It just isn’t good enough you know. Here I am a young Eagle in his prime just wanting to talk to my friends both near and far and that man doesn’t allow me to publish my thoughts to the world for such a long time. I mean to say we all have things to do but none is as important as our together time on this site. So much time has gone by that I am going to have to skip across a lot of ground by just pretending it didn’t happen. As most of it involved that man’s fury at the government and me having to be Cliffie Nightingale it is perhaps no bad thing to skip along.
That man has shocked and surprised us once more by going all Hollywood as he phrases it and has acquired a personal trainer who comes to the house and tortures him. He has nicknamed him the sadist as if he isn’t one then he is wasting his money. We know him as nice Mike who we like a lot as he tortures that man. He has got him doing planks and press ups so you can see that he is good. Next up it is going out into the world and outdoor workouts. We might pass on those but we will be ready to hose him down when he returns all muddy. I am pleased to say that Uncle Tache is rising above all of this late middle age madness and has kept his dignity quite firmly intact. Watch this space.
Last weekend it was up and away to sunny Scotland and a trip to Edinburgh. Someone had a birthday and so it was marked in appropriate fashion. There was a lovely pre flight snifter in the First lounge and then a nice flight to the frozen north. We had a lovely day with Aunty Sue and Uncle Steve in sunny Stirling and a very interesting few hours on Britannia which has come to rest in Leith. A genuinely interesting tour and that man loved to see the Queen Mother’s lift which was installed so that she could access all decks. That man has had a bad cold and so he couldn’t taste anything so it was a shame as they went to some very nice restaurants indeed. As he doesn’t really drink anymore it was a bit of a waste really. Send the eagle instead is what I say. Anyway we all went on an early morning walk to St Giles cathedral but the witch burning must have been late starting as we were the only ones there. Sorry apparently they no longer do this as Scotland is a very modern country. Instead they assert their Caledonian pride by selling very overpriced tartan products to American tourists. Much more civilized apparently! That man threatened to buy me a tartan dog coat to keep me warm but I put my foot down on that and told him to buy me a vodka martini instead as that would warm me from the inside.
It was an interesting night last night. We had people in for dinner and Marcus made his signature toad in the hole (foreign readers should look this up straight away as it is not meant to be taken literally as a description of the ingredients. No frogs were harmed in the production of the meal I can assure you) which met with universal acclaim from one and all. That man went to bed early and he had snuggled down when the fire alarm goes off. It was quickly silenced but keeps on coming back on. He gets out of bed and promptly enters a parallel universe which had opened up in his absence that most closely resembled a scene from a Cynthia Payne party. One neighbour is stood outside his room with a blanket in hand and is waving it vigorously. Another visitor comes out of another bedroom with a cushion in hand and simply wishes that man a good evening in a strangely dodgy Dorset accent as he passes by and then Uncle Tache appeared from the same room. Apparently there had been some burning going on and that man decided that discretion was the better part of valour and just rose above the whole thing and did the sensible thing and wished one and all a good night and shut his door very firmly indeed. It reminded that man of an incident involving Uncle Dave and my Stalker. They were having dinner in the Barbican one evening and were sat at the table. A fog started to descend on the assembled gathering and that man could only see Uncle Dave and my Stalker with difficulty as dinner progressed. Uncle Dave then showed his grip on things and his ability to deal with any situation with badly aimed humour by simply saying “oh someone is having a party”. The reality was that a nearby flat was on fire and the firemen appeared in the corridor a few minutes later and escorted Uncle Dave from the building “for his own safety”. What a giant we have lost in the form of Uncle Dave and his South London wit and wisdom.
We met up with Aunty Helen this week and had a lovely lunch. She reminded us that it was nearly time for Bob the Sheep to come out and amaze us all by his annual bulb hunt. It is sadly true so let us hope that spring is delayed a bit this year and we can put the horror off for a few more weeks. There are snowdrops in the churchyard though so it is not looking promising. You have been warned.
Where Eagles fear to flap 