Old toys, new toys, we all love ’em all, whatever their age, whatever their state. I have a Teddy Bear – they’re named after Theodore Roosevelt, you know – who was passed down to me by my brother. Actually, to be truthful, my brother didn’t so much pass Teddy down to me as throw him out of his cot in fright. He really didn’t like the ursine furball. But I did, and do, and we are often to be seen snuggling on a cold Martian night, searching for Earth in the evening sky. Even more often, though, we are searching for that wretch of a takeaway delivery hound with our Honeyed Tuna Melt Bites.
It is also suggested that Theodore ‘Teddy’ Roosevelt said this: Start where you are, use what you have, do what you can. It will be enough. Try it out next time you are suffering in extremis and see if it helps. I think it will, friends and grasshoppers. You can only do what you can do, Honeyed Tuna Melt Bites notwithstanding.
I have a lovely, luscious, yellow banana every single day, viewers and readers, and others of that ilk. Mmm, banana – a simile for perfect fruit, yeah …
Yes, the banana can travel anywhere at a moment’s notice, fully suited up, ready for anything from biting and nibbling to slicing and dicing to mashing and smashing.
Never mind the avocado toast, friends, try some fork-squashed Lady Fingers on Sourdough, or even Happydough, with a soupcon of cinnamon sugar and a teeny, tiny squeeze of original lemon juice, just a few citrus-y drops. You will love it, it will love you. That’s all.
The wonderful people at the European Space Agency in Darmstadt, Germany are a bit sad, but hopeful, just as I am hopeful for my shiny (and rather glary) new friend, Schiaparelli lander’s recovery. It’s touch and go, and yes, the chocolate bars helped, but you can never be certain on the Red planet, especially with all these jostling space-o-nauts scurrying around and recklessly stealing tuna pies.
In the meantime, my dearest Earth peeps, keep dreaming of Martian playing fields just as I dream of my feline ancestors who lived a mere furball’s toss up the A5 from Darmstadt, in Frankfurt am Main. Many are the imaginary plates of tuna-wurst helpfully digested with a litre or three of catnip schnaps I’ve shared with my great-great grandparents, Charles Gustav and Margaret (or Meowgaret, as she was known in the family). Ah, those could have been the days but for pesky physics. Dream on.
You may have heard rumours that the aquatic life on Mars is less than satisfactory. However, I’m here to tell you that, but for a little dust storm every so often, the fishing is extratunaordinary with bells and whistles, and an occasional crabby crustacean. Soon enough, Hale crater will be invaded by reckless teenagers from other, less salubrious (read extinct) water flows and I’ll be forced to seek out new life and boldly go, or go boldly, down the avenue.
Meanwhile, well, meanwhile, stay a while, and doze in a daze. When the time comes, you may hitch a lift with me in the PeskyCATarian-mobile.
For those of us of a certain era, it’s hard to remember a time when David Bowie wasn’t entertaining us and surprising us in so many different and wonderful ways. British PM, David Cameron, was spot on in describing David as a genius, and he is one of a small handful of artists who have had a deep and lasting impact on several generations.