Wednesday, 13 March 2024

Tuesday March 12th 2024

Dear reader, have you got a fence or a hedge that separates your house from the one next door? A lot of people do, I've noticed. And it's kind of reassuring, even if they're nice people next door, because they may keep a fierce, unpleasant dog, say - do you know what I mean? 

a typical fierce and/or unpleasant dog kept at bay by a fence

Or alternatively maybe the dog is nice, but the neighbour is fierce and unpleasant. A boundary fence or hedge works for this case as well, which is kind of reassuring!

The downside, particularly with fences, is that they may blow down in nasty, or what people nowadays call "extreme", weather. Have you noticed that too?

Lois and I moved to a new-build home in Malvern in December 2022, and the fences here are rock-solid. However, in our previous house in Cheltenham, we had numerous experiences either with our own fences or our neighbours' fences blowing down in extreme weather.

Do you remember the great storm of April 2022, when one of the 6ft x 4ft fence panels between our old house in Cheltenham and our neighbour Nikki's house got torn off and landed somewhere in our garden. Nikki hadn't noticed, and it was quite a surprise to her when I took it round to her the following day and asked her if it was one of hers. She readily acknowledge ownership and invited me in for a cup of tea, so it was a win-win.

flashback to April 2022: a strong wind blows out
one of the 6ft x 4ft panels in our neighbour Nikki's fence

But fences are expensive to replace, and with all the problems of extreme weather caused by climate change,  a lot of people these days are suggesting that we adopt the method they use in Papua New Guinea, which is to stage annual "boundary dances" to mark out our "territories".

The downside to this is that you have to be a pretty good dancer, or word will soon get round the neighbourhood and people may start pointing you out in the street. The upshot is, I think personally, that there'll need to be maybe evening classes in "boundary dancing" set up in local schools, before Parliament passes any legislation on the issue.

And if your friends are indifferent boundary-dancers, also, that can be almost as bad, can't it. Did you see the recent story in Onion News?

KOROMA, PAPUA NEW GUINEA—Huli tribesman Olene, 32, expressed annoyance Tuesday after being "guilt-tripped" into agreeing to attend his friend Gumaiba's boundary dance.

"This is the last thing I need tonight," said Olene. "I had a really bad day. I'm beat from a long day of hunting, and I broke my favourite hongoia bone knife. All I want to do is chill out at home, maybe craft myself a new knife. Instead, I have to go out to Gumaiba's boundary dance. What a drag."

The boundary dance is a traditional ceremony performed by Huli tribesmen to mark the territory they own, or that their sub-tribe owns, around their simple straw huts. 

Gumaiba, 30, first invited Olene to the event last week, when he handed his friend a hand-painted, bark invitation. According to Olene, Gumaiba has reminded him of the dance several times since then. Olene said Gumaiba then used guilt to coerce him into attending the boundary dance.

Members of the same clan, Olene and Gumaiba have known each other since childhood. "Gumaiba and I go way back," Olene said. "We're not close-close, but we often run into each other at the shrine."  Olene has attended three of Gumaiba's boundary dances in the past.

“It's just, look, he's not a very good boundary dancer," Olene said. "It's sort of painful, as a friend, for me to sit through it.” 

Gumaiba began performing boundary dances two years ago. Olene acknowledged that his friend has improved his presentation in recent months, by adding more plumage to his manda wig and by obtaining an impressive array of pajabu cordyline leaves for his buttocks. Olene maintained, however, that no costume alterations will help Gumaiba's poor dancing.

And I can hardly even begin to imagine the shame that Gumaiba must be feeling  because of his poor dancing skills. 

Poor Gumaiba !!!!!

But also poor me, if  if "boundary-dancing" ever catches on here in Malvern, as everybody seems to believe !!!!  

Don't you just hate the feeling of pajabu cordyline leaves round your naked buttocks - I personally find them so itchy. Call me over-sensitive if you like haha! And anyway the local B&Q Garden Centre don't stock them - I rang up a few days ago to check.

typical pajabu cordylilne leaves - so itchy on the buttocks

And secondary issue, but also important - I personally will not be in very good shape for the dancing bit of the boundary-marking, because of my dodgy right hip.

Hopefully all that will change, however, starting from next month, when I'm due to check in at the Queen Alexandra Hospital, Redditch, for some hip treatment. It'll take up a Wednesday and a Thursday, so today Lois and I book a couple of nights in a nice local country pub, to make it seem more like a naughty romantic "getaway" - it's the psychology that's SO important isn't it.




the nice quiet country pub where Lois and I 
have booked a couple of nights

After the treatment, I should be "okay" for any boundary dancing, more than okay, hopefully. Maybe I won't ever stop dancing, like Father Finnegan, the dancing priest in the 1990's sitcom "Father Ted".

flashback to the 1990's sitcom "Father Ted": in this scene
we see Father Finnegan, the "Dancing Priest" showcasing some of his "moves"...

,,, and again in this scene, the exciting "dancing duel" between Finnegan 
and Father Ted: the one that everybody remembers where they were 
when they first saw it.
[I expect they were at home, watching TV, shurely? - Ed]

And like Irene Cara advised in the film Boundarydance (1983), I hope to "take my passion, and make it happen".


"Take your passion, and make it happen..." -
the words of Irene Cara in "Boundary Dance" (1983)

Or maybe I'll just lobby my local MP to campaign for garden fences to remain legal. So the jury's still out on that one.

Watch this space!

[That's enough whimsy! - Ed]

21:00 Lois emerges from her zoom session with local church-members, and we watch the final episode in the current series of the sitcom "Here We Go".




Another chaotic episode of this sitcom, with - like, literally, a billion things happening at the same time, simultaneously almost, for the whole of the programme's 30 minutes. 

[Really? Like, literally a billion? - Ed]

For me the key "takeaway" from tonight's episode was Dad Jessop's problems with his head size, or more precisely his hat size, which really resonated with me, and it's something I can relate to, no doubt about that!

Dad Jessop has been training to become one of the city's newest police constables, and his head size has proved to be something of a sticking-point, particularly now that he's due to "graduate" and take part in this year's intake's "passing out parade".

First there's the "cringe" conversation with family-members at the breakfast table, being filmed as always, by Sam Jessop with his video-camera. I know this kind of conversation SO WELL from my own life experience - you would not BELIEVE!




And - wait for it - it's not going to be long before Mum and Dad Jessop's Norway-obsessed daughter Amy comes out with the H-word, yes - "Humpty Dumpty". Oh dear!












It isn't all doom and gloom though. Apparently the local police are trying to find a solution in time for Dad Jessop's "passing out parade", thanks to some positive-sounding liaison "feelers" put out to the Greater Manchester force.



Then the conversation turns to the actual size of Dad Jessop's head.




Well, fingers crossed, we think, maybe Greater Manchester Police will have a suitable helmet. Hopes are dashed, however, when the family gathers to witness the graduation parade and to wish Dad Jessop well for his new career.




Poor Dad Jessop!!!

And I feel a lot of sympathy. The first hat-shop I ever went into that had a whole tray of hats my size, size 7 and a half, was in Williamsburg, Virginia, back in 1983. They even had a tray of size 8's, which was reassuring to me. You see, I wasn't 100% sure that head hadn't stopped growing, even though I was by then, 37.

So if YOU have a big head, what I'd say to you is, that it's well worth the time and money nipping across "The Pond" to take a look. I'd recommend it to anybody with an unusually large head.

flashback to 1983: me in my shiny-new size 7.5 "tricorn",
seen here with our 2 daughters Sarah (6) and Alison (8),
 showcasing my new hat for passing local residents

It's a no-brainer really isn't it! Or is it a "big brainer"? [No! - Ed]

[Just go to bed! - Ed]

22:00 We go to bed - zzzzzzz!!!!!


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