Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Wait, yes, it’s over for another year, and Chris Froome has won. Again. For the third time. In a row.
Deja vu all over again, or what, fellow cycle people, or not? I watch it for the recipes, as I’ve mentioned many times, which is just as well, because at least they change from one year to the next. And I’m hoping that there’ll be a lovely and luscious tuna bake from Dusseldorf, home of 2017’s Grand Depart. It is, after all, a city on a river (the Rhine), so there must be tuna around there somewhere.
Meanwhile and P.S., thanks to John Mortimer, creator of our beloved Rumpole and the unforgettable ‘Chateau Thames Embankment.’ Cheers.
Remember when your mother made boiled fruit cake for Christmas? Perhaps she still does. And my lovely mother, Mrs On Mars, was, and is, a dab paw at producing the most delicious of boiled tuna fruit cakes for all of the wee Martians in the neighbourhood. A little red-dusty, but delicious, and Mars-ish if not more-ish.
As for St. Olaf and Meerecatt Meallworme, they’ve come to an arrangement: a block-buster straight-to-video mega-classic misinterpreted epic fail called Jaws, Paws, Claws, Bores, and Laws, and Another Bloody War: The Umpire Strikes Back. Look for it at your local streaming-eyes online time-waster, or not.
No, I confess, I have never attended a Star Warsfilm event, though I have watched the series. Given the dimensions of some of the costumes and the placement of feet upon unsuspecting felines’ tails, justified my reticence surely is. I have one simple question: are we certain that Darth is Luke’s father? Are we really, fretting fans? Just asking. Respectfully and with Leia adoration, Last, xxx