I’m usually up around 6am most mornings, and this morning’s rainy Sunday was no exception.  The radio is exceptionally easy on the ear at this time on a Sunday.

. . . . and next up is the News and papers – so is this where I learn the astonishing news that forms the title of this posting?

No.

It’s the water trickles though the dirt of the van next door.


It’s the SHAPE isn’t it? 

“The Gods have spoken to me!”  I thought, and ran away to get Klicky McKlickface . . . (my Camera, no idea – it just seemed funny when I said it the first time).

Risking the sheer acid spitting hell & fury of a partner who likes to sleep in on Sundays (or any bloody day if she didn’t work), I charge into the bedroom and fire-up Big-Bogey (the PC – I dunno, it just seemed funny at the time), Firefox, Google, and the Maps pages – understandably in that order.

PhotoShop is next: tracing the photo of the van, squeezing the layer across onto a map of europe –
something’s wrong though – it doesn’t fit.

Germany I know, Italy I know – but there’s a knob – a KNOB sitting out there to the West.

Bretagne?
Going as well? – unbelievable.

So there you have it.  Incontrovertible proof from the Gods themselves, the new shape of Europe.

You heard it here first.

Just idling here . . . . I wonder where all those fashionable pretend biker ladies black leather jackets are now?

Everywhere weren’t they?  Even that couple of blimmey-we-were-off-focus-but-thanks-to-baking-we’re-back-in-vogue couple could be seen, er . . . squeezing into the things for interviews, or to regale us with their hilarious personnas.

Most of them at the bottom of wardrobes I guess, next stop Landfill.

Watching channel 4’s coverage of President Trumps press outing tonight, they descibe his performance as “rambling”.

Funny that, as one of the subjects Trump aired was the media themselves – how they twist, lie, dramatise trivia, eulogize trivia and trivial people – just as they do, daily, here in the UK.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m as concerned as the next man about Mr Trump – but you get his point don’t you?  A far fairer assessment of his style today might have read “conversational”.  I guess that’s not dramatic enough.

Intense sadness in the marketing world as the olde worlde “as you do” and “my bad” – together with the  “ffwwwoooosh sound, (coupled with hand showing something just said went “clean over their head”) showing rapid ageing signs.

Even “bring it on” as touted by the Tesco Christmas TV advert – a mere five weeks ago is already looking a bit frayed round the edges, and “get in” – positively pedestrian, despite the pull of its ‘Almost American’ undertones.

“It’s reet bugger getting a handle on just what the dudes are saying these days, man” – complained Tristan Haarwelle, corporate head of  Aspirational Music and Heart-tugging images‘ at Weller, Weller and Spin – despite such items as the teeth-grindingly cringe-making “to be fair” gaining ground nationally.

“If fings get much worse, we’ll be playing the sound of American attack helicopters over every blasted advert, just to shock the buggers into buying” he added – “seems to work in the movies don’t it?”

Oak Furniture Land just got their TV advert banned for spouting blatant untruths – well, one, the one about veneer.

A bit CRUCIAL though – like: This car has wheels – oh no, sorry, it doesn’t.

To be fair I don’t mind this company’s adverts – they’re jolly, and don’t employ any mind-bending techniques or aspirational music.
Truth is, I was going to give them a quick blast – as we noticed last night their BIG WINTER SALE is on (hot on the heels of Xmas sale, boxing day blah blah) – so we’ve started noting just how many SALES they’ll manage this year.

Pulling a few loose strings together . . . . . .

Lendita and her Nieces have a habit of telling each other off if one or the other doesn’t ‘pick-up’ when they call.  Part of this telling off includes the word (I thought) – ‘Schtreek’.

I asked about this, and apparently it’s Albanian for ‘Witch’ – I was heartily amused, because to my ears ‘shriek’ is exactly the sound Witches make as they hurtle down out of the clouds on their broomsticks (as you’ll be aware, if you leave bedroom windows open at night).

So, I Googled the word – as you do, and the best match appeared to be SCH (I was happy with this, I can do that sound) – SCHIERKE – which (ha) is sort of shriek – I thought.

• Schierke (derived from a word in local dialect meaning ‘unspoilt wood’ ) is the name of a village located in the Harz Mountain range of Northern Germany. In present day it is part of the state of Saxony-Anhalt and is now considered part of the town of Wernigerode. Schierke lies below the highest mountain in the region, the Brocken, which for uncounted centuries has been connected to legends and fairy tales concerning witches, devils and other supernatural beings. The summit of the Brocken is held as the traditional place of revelry for witches on Walpurgisnacht (April 30) (Notably this was used in a scene of Faust by Goethe) Modern-day Schierke is host to a festival every year on Walpurgisnacht.

• Or:   (the German word schier means, in the Harz area, an utterly, unspoilt wood

Ok, so far, so fluffy.   Excited at this present-day link with a past area I once lived in and enjoyed so much, I thought I’d better find out what the word actually was.

SHTRIG – she scribbles – phone in the other hand.  Eh?  I hadn’t heard the “G” at the end – and Googling again only suggests:

OH, OK – (google can only do so much, can’t it?)

Bloody Hell!  I wish I hadn’t found out now.