Friday, 28 November 2014

Friday.


Above picture shows the other (or off) side of yesterday's mystery object. I must say that Rog gets the answer absolutely right when he says 'very good Crowbard', in that Crowbard's first comment is completely correct. I could hardly have bettered his description (including the area of Italy) meself. I think I would have gone for the latter year of the dates to which he attributes the pistol, but this is a quibble.  Full marks young Horner, and again full marks Peacock for spotting that fact.

18 comments:

Rog said...

Full marks Mike for spotting my brilliance

Crowbard said...

Well done to you too Rog, your sense of fun is so hot it's smmmokin'!

paul cully said...

I seem to have been sent to Coventry. My slight attempt at drollery designed only to counterbalance the erudition of Crowbard, and incidentally where does that moniker come from,has been shuffled off into the darkness.

Mike and Ann said...

Dear Paul, I'm afraid the previous communication you mention has not arrived. Are you quite sure you sent it? Sometimes, days after I know I've dispatched a communication, I've found it in a weskit pocket, because I've forgotten to post it. If, however, you think it may be lost somewhere in the great Canadian forests, or has been eaten by wolves or Esqimeaux, then I think it may be a matter for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police to investigate.

Still, it's always good to hear from you, and I'm sorry your first letter didn't arrive.
Warm Regards, Mike.

Mike and Ann said...

Paul - mea culpa. I have found your lost communication. It arrived here on 24th November, but it still seems to be very reluctant to be published. I will keep trying. My apologies, but please keep trying to lighten my blog. There are times when it needs it.

Crowbard said...

Thank you Paul from Canada (or Coventry) for supposing that erudition might have been a quality of mine. Your humour is more to be appreciated, despite Mike's negligence in mislaying it. It may have been safer in the vast uncharted Yukon wilderness than in the tangled grimoires of Mike's computer.
Crowbard is a nickname I acquired in a previous incarnation when as a bard I rehearsed my first choir and to dispel their nervousness told them they were singing like crows. Their voices were much clearer after they had had a good laugh at themselves and they sang like stars. They always thought of me as the crow bard thereafter and it stuck in my mind through the intervening lives. Please consider this as harmless lunatic waffling if it does not fit into your cosmic paradigm.

Mike and Ann said...

Dear Crowbard, I just wish to make it quite clear that I refuse to be held in any way responsible for the opinions or general dottiness of my commenters, even when expressed in this blog (and however entertaining they may be); and even when expressed by erudite close relations.

Mike and Ann said...

Paul. I have traced your comment. It was published on Thursday, 20th November. I don't know how my machine managed this miracle, but that's where it got to.


SORRY!

paul cully said...

It's a wonderful reality indeed, that thanks to a shortfall in my medulla oblongata's storage area, (or some other bit of whetever's up "there") everything seems to fit into my cosmic paradigm with room to spare for a clean pair of socks and a toothbrush. Oh and Crowbard while dismissing erudition as being within your purview, I would point out that while I just barely got Mikes " weskit", you totally bamboozled me with your " grimoire "

Mike and Ann said...

Paul. Your comment bears out a theory of mine that a person's reading matter will affect the language in which he writes. I think, after a perusal of your last comment, that you are a fan of the late P.G. Wodehouse?

Mike and Ann said...

Crowbard - I feel that I must write in your defence, that despite my charge of 'dottiness' you are probably one of the best men in the midlands for making matchcord.

That apologia is, of course, to ensure my supply of the stuff.

Crowbard said...

Oh Mike you overpraise me mightily, thank'ee kindly; or could it also be true that I am the ONLY Midlander you know who still holds the recipe for matchcord in his grimoire? (book of shadows Paul, almanac, Scholarly records, diary, aide memoire, book of prophecies, note book etc. Norman/mediaeval equivalent of Anglo/Norman ‘Gramarie’, Modern schoolboy-speak = a grammar= a book of grammar; in current usage ‘grimoire’ is reserved for a witches book of spells. And if this sounds arcane tremble before attempting to comprehend the convoluted mysteries of Mike’s data stowage system)

paul cully said...

I probably wouldn't sound so plumish if I were writing to some other people but writing to a couple of posh types like what youse are I suppose it just creeps in naturally. I've been reading and re-reading Pelham or Pelly as his nearest and dearest used to call him, although only when well out of earshot, for fifty plus years. He only wrote one book really but he re-cycled it brilliantly. He had one trick that knocked my socks off. He'd introduce, for example, a small group of men chortling on, and then add a dreamy wisp of a poetry lover who upon beginning to open her mouth would cause one of the company to offer up a silent prayer that she wouldn't mention something which he would much prefer be kept hidden. And of course she would in all innocence divulge that very thing. I'd fall down laughing no matter how many times he used that device.

Mike and Ann said...

P.s. Crowbard. Ref you comment- do stars sing? I thought they just shone.
P.s. Although I do seem to have a dim memory of a phrase 'the music of the spheres'.

Crowbard said...

Sorry Mike,
Only just spotted your enquiry.
I certainly recall William Shakespear making mention of 'the music of the spheres', but may I refer to your favoured King James version of the Bible, the first seven verses of the 38th chapter of the Book of Job?:-
1 Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said,

2 Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge?

3 Gird up now thy loins like a man; for I will demand of thee, and answer thou me.

4 Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding.

5 Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? or who hath stretched the line upon it?

6 Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner stone thereof;

7 When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?

Surprisingly the Book of Job reminded me of my first job....
All kindly blessings,
Crowbard

Crowbard said...

PS
perhaps I am nuts.

Or perhaps you recall Max Boyce's catch-phrase ?

Mike and Ann said...

Thank you Crowbard. I'm surprised ther's any suspicion of that sort.

Do you know, I don't even recall Max Boyce, leave alone his catch -phrase. Are sure you don't mean Max Byegraves? (A music hall artiste of the fifties).

Crowbard said...

Max Boyce was the man to whose catch phrase I refer. He was a comedian and an ardent Welsh rugby supporter who gloried in his tall tales of Welsh scores. His catch phrase to convince his audience was 'I was THERE !'

Perhaps mistakenly but genuinely I think I was there at the big kick-off.