Hi Everyone
If, like me, you are approaching middle age, and especially if you were a boy you will remember playing marbles or Shotties as we called them. The game of marbles was a circle marked in the dirt into which you then put some of your marbles together with some from your opponents. With your main marble, you then flirted your marble to knock their marble out of the circle. You then added their marble to your bag. Many boys had a small bag of coloured glass marbles but as you are well aware of my sporting prowess, you can imagine that my bag did not contain many marbles unless I could find some poor kid who was even worse than me. I was reminded of this nostalgic Rubbish this week as Prime Minister Rishi appears to be losing his marbles. In this case, his marbles are not even glass but stones 'stolen' by Lord Elgin from the Parthenon in Greece in 1801. Now the Greeks want them back as they have done for many years. Apparently, the Greek Prime Minister was in London to meet Rishi this week on the understanding that he did not mention the marbles. When Rishi realised that the marbles were on the agenda he cancelled the meeting causing diplomatic problems for both countries. Now it occurs to me that if the Greeks had nicked all the stones from Stonehenge, we would want them back. I realise of course that it would have taken half the male population of Greece to transport our stones back to Greece but that surely is not the point. The problem for us is that if we have to return all the items 'procured' during our Empire dominance we would be left with little more than Marks and Spencer, a few fish and chip shops, some must have local oatcake shops, and ten charity shops on every High Street.
This last two weeks I have had my annual November cough and cold. When it first started I felt so ill that I nearly put a bulletin on the front gate just in case our neighbours were concerned about me as I do not seem to get much sympathy from the Main Contractor. Now in the past, I have said some less than complimentary things about researchers and experts but this week they have got it absolutely right as they have concluded after years of extensive tests and exhaustive research that Man Flu is worse than anything the ladies have to suffer. If you are a male reader of this Rubbish I know that I will have your full support and you will completely understand this awful condition but don't be surprised if next time you get Man Flu, your partner will give you about as much sympathy as me.
Can you remember when you got your homemade wooden sleigh out of the shed before rubbing the rust off the steel runners as you anticipated the coming of winter and snow? All this was before the days of insulated clothing as you were probably still in short trousers. None of this seemed to matter as you spent all day with your friends oblivious to your wet clothes, chapped knees. and squelching water in your shoes. After that brilliant day out, it was back to the Senior Partner who told me I was completely mad as she dried out my clothes and shoes in front of her five pieces of carefully positioned coal. Fast forward to this week when winter finally arrived with middle age approaching. The wooden sleigh has long gone, the coal fire has been replaced by central heating, and the short trousers replaced by tracksuit bottoms as we gaze out of the window grateful for the fact that we do not need to venture out of the front door. The only connection with all those years ago is perhaps the wet trousers but not for the same reason.
Just a Thought:
I failed my Greek Mythology exam. It has always been my Achilles' heel.
My friend caught flu at the airport. Apparently, it was a terminal illness.
It's been so cold this week that customers are wearing two pairs of pajamas when shopping at Aldi.
Brian