A typical morning
It's Pancake Tuesday today and probably the first morning for months that isn't dark and rainy here in Brum. Last year Pancake Tuesday (Shrove Tuesday, Mardi Gras, Carnaval) was a week later, or earlier, because it has to be 40 days before Easter Sunday, and Easter Sunday keeps changing according to a secret formula based on the the 'Paschual Full Moon', which is the first full moon after the 'Vernal Equinox'. I don't know why they don't just decide on a fixed date like they did with Christmas and Boxing Day and stop messing us around.
It's a big day on the Christian Calendar. We have a 'My Favourite Dogs' one, so I can't confirm that. It marks the start of Lent when everyone is supposed to give up something until Easter.
Mrs. S. and I and are following the fine example of Jacob Rees-Mogg and giving up going out of the house or, in the case of His Excellency and Prime Minister, The Right Honourable Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson, going out of the refrigerator, in readiness for the arrival in Birmingham of the Coronavirus (Covid-19) when we will have to 'self-isolate' ourselves anyway.
Boris Johnson and Jacob Rees-Mogg. At the moment, 'staying in' is no hardship for us as the weather is dreadful, we can get Netflix, the freezer's full and we've no money anyway.
We could do without the What's Apps we keep getting from Álora, though. The weather there has been hot and sunny for the last 6 weeks, apparently, and the annual 'Carnaval' last Saturday was a big success - although a small group of British expats in the top square (La Plaza de la Fuente Arriba) were overhead asking if anyone knew what all the fuss was about.
Now that we are 'self-isolated' we are even more 'economically inactive', as we were cruelly named by the current 'Home Secretary' of Britain, Priti Patel. I must say I was a bit put out by being called 'economically inactive'. I'm all in favour of economising. You should see me at our local Waitrose in the early-to-late afternoon when they start putting the yellow 'reduced item' stickers on!
Mrs. S. and I are planning to do our bit by going pea picking in Norfolk when the UK leaves the European Union and the farmers can't employ migrant workers any more. It can't be that hard and we'll be doing it for Britain.
Come to think of it, it's a bit rich her calling people 'economically inactive' when she, herself, and the 'special one', who must not be named in case he shows up, are hell bent on sacking everyone in the civil service. Even the 'wierdo and misfit special advisers' that lurk in the shadowy alcoves of 10 Downing Street are looking over their shoulders - such trusted aides as Messrs. T. Robinson, M. Borman and A.Tilla-Th'un aren't safe there any more.
If a pandemic of Coronavirus isn't scary enough, we've got climate change and global warming to worry about as well. Two gales, Ciara and Dennis, followed by floods, have left vast areas of the UK under water at the same time as the glaciers are melting and Antarctica has higher temperatures than Aberdeen.
Migrant polar bear arriving at Margate.
While the greatest polluting countries are still climate change deniers, the British Government has announced that all diesel, petrol and hybrid vehicles will be barred from our roads by year 2032.
This announcement came a week after I bought a new diesel-powered car.
Now we can't have wood or coal fires either. Well, coal fires were banned in Birmingham 25 years ago and the same goes for the 'wet wood' fires also covered by the new ban. Nevertheless we've all got to do our bit to reduce our 'carbon footprint'. I expect our only national festival, Guy Fawkes Day or Bonfire Night will be banned this year, too.
What next?
On the only dry day for weeks I decided to try mowing our lawn. It got me out of the house for an hour or so and my recently bought self-propelled petrol lawnmower started straight away. I'd just about finished when the mower hit a small tree stump that I'd forgotten about. Some bits flew off the engine and it stopped. I took it to the nice chap at 'Mower Maintenance', 'just behind Solihull Blinds', to see what could be done.
'Knackered'. he said, 'The crank's bent'.
Mrs. S. has a favourite saying, 'Buy cheap, buy twice'. (El dinero mal gastado viene dos veces al mercado)
I'd only paid 50 quid for it so she might well be right (again) even though its dramatic demise was my fault (and the stump's) entirely.
The tacturn technician was only able to give me one piece of useful advice:
'They're selling these at Aldi from this Sunday at £179.99.'
And, indeed, they are.
Prices for self-propelled petrol lawnmowers range from £200- £500 on Amazon so whose advice should I take? I have to
And another thing. If they're going to ban petrol cars, they may well ban petrol lawnmowers too, so I've got to make a decision that is environmentally friendly too.
The British Lawnmower Museum
I contacted Oberon who runs The British Lawnmower Museum in St. Anne's, near Blackpool, for advice. He told me that there are no solar, wave or wind powered lawnmowers being made yet. He has not heard any rumours about banning petrol mowers either, but he warned me that the ones on sale at Aldi are made in China and parts are hard to get hold of.
I was just wondering what we'll have to give up next to save the planet when I noticed Monty, our dog, giving me an odd look.
I can face giving up driving a car and having to brick up my fireplace; after all it's for the best possible of causes, but there appears to be some suggestion that even 'man's best friend' may be next for the chop.
There are 9.9 million dogs and 10.9 million cats in the UK (163 million in the USA) and between them it is alleged that they are responsible for 64 million tons (tonnes) of 'greenhouse gases' a year - the equivalent of 13 million cars!
That means, so the story goes, that a cat is as harmful to the earth's atmosphere as a VW Golf, and a dog, a great big Toyota Land Cruiser.
('The Guardian' 12th. November 2009)
I won't try to kid you that our Monty doesn't let off the odd fart now and then. Don't we all? But there is some mishtake here, surely! What a load of old baloney (un cuento Chino).
We've just got back from a trip up north to Oldham which used to be partly in the County of Lancashire and partly in the West Riding of Yorkshire - an anomaly caused by the difficulty in drawing a boundary line up in the harsh, rugged and beautiful Pennine Hills. It's now in Greater Manchester.
It was snowing up there and cold. They have a very dry sense of humour, too, despite all the rain.
While Mrs.S. was having a bit of a knees-up at a mountain 'boutique hotel' resort on Ripponden Road with her sister, I drove up to the snow line at 'Grains Bar' to give Monty a bit of exercise. A van pulled up beside me in the car park. The driver's window was open.
I won't try to replicate the accent.
Me: 'What a fantastic view!'
Local van driver: 'Aye. You tend to take it for granted.'
Me: 'Not me, but I don't come here much since I left Oldham.
L.V.D. 'Where did you move to?'
Me: 'Birmingham.'
L.V.D.: 'How long ago?'
Me: 'Fifty years.'
L.V.D. Umm. Think you'll like it?
See you soon, if we're spared.
Juanito Sánchez February 28th. 2020.
