Quiztime

 

Is it an island or is it a continent? Today's quiz is all about Australia. As per usual, the answers may be found in the comments section.

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1) In which Australian state is Brisbane located?

2) Name this famous Australian singer - not the green fellow on the right!

3) Once known as Ayers Rock, what is this big rock in the middle of Australia now called?

(a) Didgeridoo (b) Kangaroo Rock

(c) Coochicoo  (d) Uluru

4) Please name this famous Australian film actor.

5) What is the current population of Australia?

(a) 5,855,102 (b) 11,945,666 (c) 26,799,251 (d) 52,140,386

6) There are over 330 different marsupials in Australia but what is this one?

7) "Waltzing Matilda" is an iconic Australian song. This is the first line with one word missing: "Once a jolly ............... camped by a billabong" What is that missing word? 

(a) squatter (b) swagman (c) pommie (d) jumbuck

8) Viewed from above, what is this very famous Australian sight?

9) Annually, which city hosts the Australian Open tennis tournament every January?

10) Australia is a very big country but in terms of land area how much bigger is it than California?

(a) Twice as big (b) Six times as big 

(c) Sixteen times as big (d) Thirty six times as big

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That's it. How did you do?

Crossing

Four miles from this house, up on White Edge Moor, stand the remains of an ancient stone cross. It is known as Lady's Cross. I have plodded past it three or four times before but yesterday it was my main target. I planned to linger there and take several photographs of it, hoping for optimal lighting as sunshine peeped through ephemeral gaps in the clouds.

What is Lady's Cross and why is it there? Some say that it marked the southern boundary of the Beauchief Abbey estate which was founded in the twelfth century by French monks.  The remains of their abbey can still be found in Sheffield's southern suburbs. It operated for four hundred years until the middle of the  reign of King Henry VIII.

Others say that the cross marked the meeting point of three local parishes while yet others think it was just a guidepost, assisting moorland travellers centuries before paved roads for motor vehicles were developed.

The first known written reference to Lady's Cross occurred in a land deed from 1263 but it is probably much older than that and may have had different iterations through time. There is a significant amount of dressed stone in the area that surrounds the cross today. Its presence there hints at earlier structures. Also the cross we see today is no doubt much shorter than it would have been eight hundred years ago.

I rambled onward for a further half mile and from the western edge of White Edge Moor, I  looked towards The Hope Valley.  Before backtracking to Lady's Cross, I  captured this image:-

The gloomy bulk of The Kinder Plateau broods in the background but closer to my viewpoint, I could easily make out Lose Hill to the left and Win Hill to the right.

Puddoween

 

Most readers will be aware that  "Yorkshire Pudding" is not just the pseudonym of a grumpy old blogger with high blood pressure but it is also the name of a simple savoury "pudding" that traditionally accompanies  Sunday roasts.

If I was so inclined I could devote this blog entirely to those golden puddings but that would surely become rather tiresome.

However, today I stumbled across a news item all about crazy pub landlord James Paley from Southend-on-Sea who for a few years has put his sons in Yorkshire pudding costumes for Halloween. He makes the costumes with actual Yorkshire puddings that he bakes himself before fashioning the mad outfits.

This year, with one of his sons, he even made one of our morning TV shows:-

P.S. Sorry I could not reduce the size of the TikTok video at the top.

Reservations

When you book your advance tickets for intercity train travel in Britain, you are automatically given seat reservations without charge. Consequently, when Shirley and I boarded our London-bound train we headed straight to Coach C and successfully found our seats there.

The train was full and following some hold-ups  and a cancellation, it became even more full by the time we reached Derby.  The guard came over the tannoy, announcing that all reservations were now cancelled in order to accommodate the extra passengers. It was now standing room only.

Further down the track, we arrived in the city of Leicester where plenty more travellers were waiting on the platform. Our carriage was pretty quiet so all could hear the conversation between a young woman who had just boarded and an older woman who was sitting in the window seat across the aisle from me.

YOUNG WOMAN Excuse me. You are sitting in my seat.

OLDER WOMAN  All seat reservations have been cancelled. The guard announced it at Derby.

YOUNG WOMAN But I have paid for that seat. Could you leave it now. It's mine.

OLDER WOMAN I'm not going anywhere. Someone was sitting in my reserved seat.

YOUNG WOMAN You are refusing to get out of my seat?

OLDER WOMAN  Yes. That's right. I'm not going anywhere.

YOUNG WOMAN I can't believe it. I paid good money for that seat. You selfish bitch!

The young woman paused for a while, staring at the older woman but after a few moments she left our carriage no doubt looking for somewhere to stand on the last hour of our journey to London.

I continued to read my book but five minutes later the young woman, minus her baggage , returned to the situation. This time she was filming it all on her phone.

YOUNG WOMAN (voice raised) I am telling you again. That's my seat. Get out of it now!

OLDER WOMAN No way.

YOUNG WOMAN So you are still refusing to leave my seat!  I can't believe it. How can you do this?

OLDER WOMAN (No reply)

YOUNG WOMAN  I hope you're happy with this. Look at you smiling! It's not funny you ****ing cow! **** you! (And with that, the young woman exited stage right - no doubt returning to her baggage. We didn't see her again)

On the train home a somewhat similar situation occurred when a tall young man boarded the train at Peterborough. At the window seat across the aisle from us, another young man was sitting. He had, by the way, been talking to someone on his smartphone all the way from London.

Politely, the new passenger made his challenge, showing his seat reservation to the interloper. However, this time  there was no big drama. The interloper offered to give up his seat but the new passenger said, "No, it's okay man there are one or two spare seats down there. You stay where you are." And with that the brief meeting between two strangers was over.

It was interesting to witness these incidents at close quarters and not that it makes a ha'p'orth of  difference but I note that one of the four characters was Asian - of Indian heritage and another was Afro-Caribbean. The other two players in these scenes were white English. Happily, that heritage element played no obvious part in the dynamics of these two encounters.

Report

Car with autumn leaves in Fulham, London this morning

Back from London. All went well.

Late on Saturday afternoon, there was a little house party for Zachary when members of  Sarah's family dropped by after the separately important engagement meal in an Italian restaurant in nearby Chelsea.

There was her mum and dad and two of her five brothers plus their partners and  Zachary's only male cousin and the lovely girlfriend of another of  Sarah's brothers. He is an officer in the British army and  co-incidentally was at a stag do up here in Yorkshire.

I found myself talking to one of the girlfriends. She was about twenty five and very pleasant, asking questions that showed interest in who I was and the life I lead. It was only afterwards that I discovered she is a genuine "Lady" and a bona fide member of the British aristocracy. Her father is a duke and her family home is a sprawling stately home in Sussex. I have racked my brain but I do not believe that I have ever met a "Lady" before.

Zach's birthday  cake was a work of art, decorated with animal figures from a BBC TV animated children's show called "Raa-Raa The Noisy Lion".  We gathered round as the single candle was lit before singing the little fellow his first "happy birthday" song. 

Shirley and I babysat for all of Saturday night as Ian and Sarah returned to a certain pub in Chelsea where the evening session of the engagement party was now in full swing. They got home just after midnight and this morning they both had raging hangovers.

Zach is coming along nicely and is much loved. It was great to spend more time with him. He is pretty mobile and has a happy, uncomplaining nature. He laughs readily and has everything that he needs though that list was supplemented with numerous generous birthday gifts.

At 3pm we were at King's Cross Station to catch our return train home. Because of Sunday engineering works, we had to come back via Doncaster on the main east coast line. Good heavens! What an impressive journey that was - speeding along in a sleek, new train at 125mph*. We reached  Doncaster railway station in just 1hr and 33mins. Fantastic!

* - Thanks to Tasker Dunham for correcting my previous estimation.

Weekend

Little Zach, our only grandson, was one year old yesterday. Today, we are heading down to London to see him and of course his mama and papa too. In fact, they invited us down there so that we could look after him for much of Saturday while they attend a family engagement party. Above - that's their street.

We are going by train. The journey normally takes just over two hours. For two of us the return package has cost £85 using our "Two Together" railcard to reduce the cost. I don't think that is too bad. We will be coming back to Sheffield on Sunday afternoon.

On the outward journey, our train will terminate at St Pancras Station and then we will make for the London Underground then it's twenty minutes to either Barons Court, Fulham Broadway or West Brompton. Probably the latter from where we can catch a bus along Lillie Road to the north of Fulham where Zach lives.

We sleep up in the attic  with its nice en suite but  neither of us are keen on the bed up there. Its a futon that sits very close to the floor and is quite hard too with a fairly thin mattress. The Japanese may be brilliant at designing and producing electrical goods and motor vehicles but when it comes to creating comfortable beds they clearly have a lot to learn. 

Let's just say that I am very glad there are no known YouTube videos in existence of me getting up off that futon in the middle of the night. It would be like watching a bloated sealion rolling off the rocks in a gale of laughter.

Anyway, I must dash. We have a train to catch. Toodle-oo!

Meds

 

Arguably, this is the end of my youth. I always hoped that my life would never need to be sustained by medication and that I would live drug-free to the end of my days. But at the grand old age of 71, reality has finally caught up with me.

Ten days ago I knew virtually nothing about blood pressure or indeed cholesterol but following a rather accidental, unplanned health check all that has changed. Yesterday, I agreed to be put on low doses of both "Amlodipine" for my blood pressure and "Atorvastatin" to address mild cholesterol concerns - preventative really.

I know that if was inclined to find out more about The Green Bay Packers or The Irish Potato Famine then Google would open up  vast granaries of knowledge. And it's the same with antihypertensive  medications and statins. There are YouTube videos, learned papers, lists of side effects, comparison debates, reviews etc.. Before you know it a whole world of previously unrealised knowledge has appeared in front of your eyes.

This is just the start. I will have to check my blood pressure regularly, attend more doctor's appointments and so on. It's possible that my medications may need to change - dosages upped or brands replaced. I will also need to watch out for side effects such as swollen feet.

It's a little depressing to admit to myself that these medications will now be part of my life till the day I die but of course the up-side is that I will probably live longer than I would have done without them.

Finally, why do these drugs have to have such unmemorable and unpalatable scientific names? I would much prefer it if "Atorvastatin" was called "Misty Forest Path" and "Amlodipine" was called "Ramalamadingdong". Yes - that would be much better.

Energising

Yesterday, I needed to get out for a walk. I drove fifteen minutes west and parked Clint on Ringinglow Road in the lee of Higger Tor. From that one vehicle parking space I took the picture shown above. You can see the spire of Hathersage Church as you look beyond it to The Hope Valley.

I was on the edge of Hathersage Moor where I followed the path to Over Owler Tor - an outcrop of the base rock which is millstone grit. There I sneakily snapped the picture shown above of a couple sitting on top of the tor. Perhaps he is asking her to marry him.

There are two or three curious rock formations at Over Owler Tor like the one shown above. Beyond it you can see Higger Tor - a rocky plateau that was once used as a hill fort in the mists of time and long before Romans occupied our land. The swathes of bracken you can see are now brown for the winter but a vibrant green in the late spring and summer.

An iron grey cloud rose in the west as I headed along another moorland path towards the big sheepfold on the edge of the moor. I saw four deer grazing amidst the bracken. They looked at me warily but were too far away to photograph successfully.

My camera zoomed across to Overstones Farm below Stanage Edge. I have taken many pictures of that scenic farm from different viewpoints, in different seasons and in different light and weather conditions.

The walk was over in less than two hours but it was energising to get out there under the sky in that October light amongst the bracken and the rocks where many have gone before...

Quiztime

This edition of "Quiztime" simply requires you to name the ten cartoon characters shown below. As usual, the answers appear in the "Comments" section. Good luck!

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1) This cop appeared in "Top Cat".

2) She lived in Bedrock.

3) A boy detective created by Herge, the most famous Belgian cartoonist:-

4) A minor character in the Popeye cartoons.

5) Her boyfriend was much more famous. Choose one:-

(a) Daphne Duck (b) Diana Duck (c) Daisy Duck (d) Delia Duck

6) From British culture, emerged this unflappable cartoon mother:-

7) Though he has a first name , he is usually known just by his surname in "South Park":-

8) His yellow skin might tell you which cartoon series he is from but who is he?

9) First created in 1932 by The Walt Disney Company:-

10) And finally, another cartoon dog but which one?

a) Scooby Doo b) Scrappy Doo 

c) Doggy Poo d) Huckleberry Hound 

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That's all folks!

How did you do?

Katie

 

My niece Katie was born in the autumn of 1976 so later this month she will be 48 years old. Born in north London, she had experienced many visits to western Ireland before she moved there for good at the age of eighteen.

If you heard her speaking now you would think she was entirely Irish and you would think the same if you witnessed her singing or playing her flutes and whistles in a bar in Kilfenora, Lisdoonvarna, Lahinch or Doolin. In this she has followed her father, my late brother Paul.

Her singing voice is lovely. She closes her eyes and sails away upon the back of the song to somewhere else. Virtually all of her singing has been of other people's songs but in 2020 she crossed the line and created an original song for my brother. As it says in the first line, "This song is dedicated to my father".

I have featured it before in "Yorkshire Pudding" but recently I was alerted to the existence of another video version on YouTube. Listening to it and watching the video unfurl brought tears to my eyes. I remember how Paul and Katie were together - like peas from the same pod and he loved her very much. The feeling was wholly mutual.

A loved someone might die but they never go away - not entirely. Please listen to "When You Were Big and I  Was Small"...

Sunday

I borrowed a blood pressure monitor from the health centre but the "cuff"  you put round your upper arm was too tight for me. I guess my arms are a bit like Popeye's after a can of spinach. The cuff kept bursting apart as it inflated.

Anyway, we decided to invest in our own monitoring device which I did NOT order from Amazon! Instead I went to the "Boots" store at Heeley Retail Park. There were several to choose from.

As I was looking at them, I met a man who showed me which one he had bought. Some friendly chat followed and it turned out that he had only recently emerged from the hollow of "Long COVID". For three years he had been housebound - mostly languishing in bed but now he's up and about.

I said, "It must feel like being born again?"

He said, "You're right. I hadn't thought of it like that."

"Boots" is Britain's most famous pharmacy chain. At the prescriptions counter, a young shop assistant kindly opened the monitor box so I could see the size of the cuff inside.  Then I parted with some money after removing the padlock on my wallet.

Upon arriving home, I reopened the box and set up the blood pressure monitor. Soon, with the assistance of my personal nurse we were ready to go. The cuff was perfect and it squeezed my arm as if Bluto was gripping it. Unfortunately, both blood pressure readings we took were almost dangerously high - around 190/102 - confirming  the high readings taken at my health check on Friday morning.

The sooner I can get started on that antihypertensive medication the better.

In other Sunday news, I went down to Frances and Stewart's house to watch Hull City play Sunderland courtesy of Sky Sports TV. We lost by one goal to nil but our lads played well - especially in the second half. Their goal was controversial following accidental interference in play by the referee.

Stewart made the Sunday dinner which was a nice change for me and later I caught the number 88 bus up to Bents Green, meeting my quizmates in "The Hammer & Pincers". 

We were the overall  winners and would have scored 25/25 if I had remembered the correct title of the Christmas 1994 hit by East 17. It was "Stay Another Day" and not "Stay Now" as I had mistakenly recalled.  Such moments are not good for one's blood pressure.

Mugs

Considering that most of the time only two people dwell in this house, we have a surfeit of mugs. I am almost embarrassed to admit that we have twenty four mugs in our mug cupboard. We could serve tea or indeed coffee to two football teams.

Giving someone a mug is a common gift option but for me the arrival of a new mug creates an internal groan. We have enough mugs already! No more mugs thank you very much!

Our lovely daughter, Frances - now aged thirty six - has always had a penchant for buying lovely, thoughtful gifts so I was a little surprised when on the occasion of my recent seventy first birthday she gave me a cardboard box that obviously contained yet another mug! Oh no!

But when I opened the box I was delighted to discover this mug which she had spotted online:-

Immediately, this new mug surged up my league table of "favourite mugs" putting it just above the mug below which a few years back was also given to me by  The Beloved Daughter:-

I dare say that if you, dear reader, did your homework you could also purchase an "I ❤ Yorkshire"  mug or better still a "Yorkshire Pudding" mug.

How many mugs have you got in your kitchen?

Health

Throughout my adult life, I have been very reluctant to visit doctors. I suppose that in some regards I have been in continuous denial - as if believing that my health was so robust that I didn't need medical assistance. To illustrate this point - when I was twenty two I broke my left leg at university playing football but it took me two days to hobble to the campus health centre. There the doctor I saw concluded almost immediately, "I think you have broken your leg". Given the swelling, bruising and pain it may have been his easiest ever diagnosis.

At seventy one years old I am proud to say that I have come thus far without any kind of regular medication. Today, at my health check appointment, the bespectacled young doctor whose name was Rebecca asked when I had last had an eye test and I  said that I hadn't had one since I was in primary school - around the age of ten. She was flabbergasted.

By keeping my distance from doctors, I suspect that up until now I have always slipped through the nets of general practice healthcare but today I have the strong impression that they have finally caught up with me. The key concern is elevated blood pressure and as requested I have even borrowed a home testing kit to use over the next few days. Rebecca wanted to see if my reading might be lower when tested regularly at home.

I was making a late lunch after the health check when Rebecca phoned me at home asking me to go in next Wednesday for another appointment where my blood pressure will be tested once again. She had been in consultation with the senior doctor at the surgery after my health check. Alarmingly, she said that in the meantime I needed to watch out for headaches, chest pains and breathlessness and to dial 111 immediately if I experience any of these "symptoms".

I know what is coming just around the corner. I am going to be put on antihypertensive medication that will hopefully decrease my raised blood pressure and I will be on these tablets  for the rest of my life. There's also going to be pressure to take statins which I must admit I currently know little about. It is of little comfort to learn that the vast majority of British men over the age of seventy take medication that reduces their blood pressure and they take statins too.

I may have imagined that I was invulnerable - like some kind of superman  but the truth is that  I am as ordinary as anybody else. The game is effectively up. I want to get older than this - to see Phoebe through primary school, to enjoy more country walks, write more poems, see more places, read more books. Today was the first chime of a wake up call that my instincts had already predicted. It would be foolish not to grab the medication with both hands and take other sensible measures to reduce potential risks and probably lengthen my life.

Michigan

"Michigan seems like a dream to me now" - Paul Simon

The Yorkshire Pudding Spotlight of Curiosity falls today upon a rather ordinary little town in Lapeer County, Michigan, USA. It's North Branch  which has grown slowly since it was first settled in 1856. It now has a population of 1096.

Two years ago, it was visited by a YouTube contributor called Daryl Turcott. He mostly focused on the town's Orr Historical Museum and this was the six minute video he produced:-

By the way, I deduce that the little town's unusual name is derived from the fact that it stands on the north branch of The Flint River. For a while in the second half of the nineteenth century, it was known as Beachville  after Mr. and Mrs. Richard Beach who were two of the very first settlers.  I guess that Mr. and Mrs. George Simmons  - the other first settlers - may have objected.

I took a look around North Branch myself with the help of Google Streetview. It seemed a sleepy kind of place. Not much was happening and there was hardly anybody around - not much traffic either. But superficially at least, it appeared quite tidy and relatively affluent.

Above - Huron Street, North Branch - the centre of the town and below two businesses on Huron Street

North Branch Bar & Grill

The Open Door Hair Salon

Above - a small home on Saginaw Street and below a larger home on Spring Street

Below - when the Google Streetview car cruised around North Branch in August of this year there were plenty of banners hanging in the downtown area in praise of local men and women who served in the US military - including Jeffrey Swain:-

So, you might be asking, why North Branch? The town is set in productive farming country and one of those farms was the childhood home of David Godfrey who is the blogger behind "The Adventures of a Travel Penguin" which comes to us these days from Washington D.C.. But just like the rest of us, David can never forget where he came from...

David

Miscellaneous

1.

The opposite of a hypochondriac is most likely an "anosognosiac" - someone who insists they are perfectly well when that is not the case. Such people try not to visit doctors' surgeries or other health facilities, often pressing ahead with their lives even when they clearly require health support or intervention. That's kind of like me.

Oddly,  in the last week I have been a "customer" of the health service three times with one appointment still to go. Last Wednesday I had my prostate examined by a young doctor called Georgina with a chaperone present - a member of the reception staff. Fortunately for a man of my age there was no problem and Georgina dealt with the procedure very professionally. It was the first time I have ever had my prostate examined.

Yesterday, I went to The Royal Hallamshire Hospital to have bloods taken before tests happen and today I received winter flu and COVID vaccinations at my local health centre. On Friday I am going back there for a full health check to which the blood tests are connected.

My trolls may be disappointed to learn that death is not imminent.

2.

Above - for a year or so these messages have been appearing when I log into my hotmail account. At first I believed that they were from Microsoft so I started deleting hundreds of emails from the past  - especially those with attachments such as images. My clearance efforts made no impact  on the alleged percentage of storage used. Now I just click these warnings away because I believe they are spam messages that are trying to get me to pay for more storage when I don't need it. Has anybody else encountered this kind of messaging within hotmail or perhaps other email accounts?

3.

A rare picture of me with Phoebe - up on Stanage Edge last week. I appear to be squeezing out some people but that is merely an optical illision.

4.

And finally for all you poetry buffs out there and  as half-promised  yesterday, here's two recent poems by Bluto:-

Love Bluto

Olive, my darling, I dream of thee
When e'er I behold the briny sea

Thy limbs as slender as a deer's

And golden studs in thy shell-like ears.

Oh Olive - why did you pick Popeye?

Your cruel choice oft made me cry.

I would have given you everything  -

Upon your hand a wedding ring

And a little house with a picket fence

Where we could dwell in the present tense.

Such dreams have drifted away like mist

With memories of the times we kissed

Along the shore or under a tree

Olive, my darling, I dream of thee.

                     ⦿

Threesome

He was Popeye the sailor man
He was Popeye the sailor man
He went to the pictures
And pulled down his britches
He was Popeye the sailor man.

But me? Well, let's see...

I was Bluto the aid worker
I was Bluto the aid worker
My voice was quite gruff
And my habits were rough
I was Bluto the aid worker

And she?   Dearie me...

She was Olive the mum of four
She was Olive the mum of four
I loved her completely
And remember her sweetly
She was Olive the mother of four.

Bluto

You may have seen me in cartoons of long ago. My name is Bluto and I am a very, very old man now. I live in a nursing home in Connecticut where I am attended by some very kind carers. To be frank, they have lengthened my life for which I am infinitely grateful. From my room, I can see the ocean sparkling through the trees, reminding me of my youth upon the salt sea waves.

Some of you will recall that I was the arch enemy of Popeye the Sailorman and together we battled for the affections of  Miss Olive Oyl who we met on the harbour front in Boston. In fact, you might say that it was she who tore us apart for up until that time we had been crewmates and drinking buddies onshore. Ah, those were the days.

If you had a page devoted to you on Wikipedia, I am sure you would occasionally check it out - for its detail and its veracity. I guess that all famous people do that. When I first saw my Wikipedia page, I was shocked, stunned and hurt. This is what they have to say about me:-

"Bluto is a cruel, bearded, muscular ruffian who serves as Popeye's nemesis and archrival for the love of Olive Oyl. He usually uses brute force and/or trickery to accomplish his various goals. His voice is very loud, harsh and deep, with an incomprehensible bear-like growl between words and sentences."

You know folks, to read that, it was devastating. It was as if Wikipedia knew nothing about me and my complex relationship with Popeye and Olive. Effectively, it was a classic love triangle.

They neglected to mention my challenging upbringing  and how I helped my mother Florence to raise my six siblings after our father ran away with a Canadian floozy called  Gloria.  They also forgot to refer to how my life unfolded after my long years at sea. Through a correspondence course I gained a degree in International Relations and then spent several years working with the downtrodden citizens of Senegal and Bolivia.

And after Popeye and Olive were killed on the freeway just east of New Haven, it was me who delivered their eulogy even though Popeye had stolen Olive from me all those years ago. She was the love of my life and I admit that I never truly got over her.

It is easy and sometimes tempting to portray people as mere caricatures of themselves - focusing on the surface rather than what lies beneath. I may have conveniently seemed like a "muscular ruffian" with a "bear-like growl" but there was always more to Bluto T. Windass than that.  For example, did you know that I wrote poetry?  Maybe  one day, if I remain upon this earth a while longer, I will share one or two of my poems with you.

Kind regards,

Bluto