B bought some oranges t'other day. Well, I say "oranges", but I reckon it could be the start of another food mis-labelling scenario. Fair enough, from the outside they look like oranges, but once the skin has been peeled and you bite into the flesh of a suspiciously pale looking segment...Cheeereeest on beeeek (no idea if they're Siff Iffrikin, jist gissin) are they tart, or what?
Methinks they are actually lemons. Some cunning fruit wholesaler has seen the increasing disparity in the orange/lemon futures market in favour of the former and got his slaves to stuff lemons inside orange skins. You think I'm joking...Actually, I do like it tart, and once I've got over the shock they are rather fun in a citrus-masochistic stylee, although the wince stays with you for a good half hour after consumption.
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I have a friend who, while we were discussing the lead actor's performance in the cult classic The Wicker Man did not understand my referring to the guy as Ewar Woowar. I'll let him off for he is young, and I am old.
While we're on thesps, I've a joke about Anna Hathaway, but it's a bit rude... ;)
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Mathematically, it was Spring on 1st March, but since when did the weather pay any attention to that? It's not really spring up here until the sun heads northwards over the Equator on 21st March (or 20th depending where you check it). Anyway, the last couple of days have indeed been Spring-like and in the direct sun it actually felt warm for the first time in ages. Marvellous!
I took advantage of this by having a roaring fire in the grounds of Burwood Towers this afternoon, combusting old bits of branches that have fallen from our 100+ year-old pine trees. You could've melted steel in it, such was the heat.
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We're off to London tomorrow to see Phill's current least-favoured musician Steven Wilson at the Royal Festival Hall. Bet you're glad I didn't get you a ticket now, eh?
Anyway, apart from the gig itself, highlight of the day will be meeting up with two DPRP colleagues who up to now have been mere ciphers at the end of email or Facebook messages.
Jez is the mad fool who volunteered for the Editor's job at DPRP and as such is the poor sod who has to unmangle my garbled syntax, and Alison is the polar opposite of me in the prog style of choice department. Mr Wilson is probably one of very very few musos who could have brought us together. It's going to be interesting chewing the fat. Bring it on!
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Those Siff Iffrikins...they're all a bit mad, are they not?
