Family' s family Zoe, you up for a party?
there are bourkes in my family, but from Kerry.
we're on moto patrol!!! we'll pop some of the Uggers, won't we Jack!
any other Burke Birks Bourkes Burkes etc out there..? we should hook up!
ha! Just heard from Bodger Bates, he's been round the Mulberry bush hacking down stuff for your Arsenal..... ( c'mon the Gunners! ) "Master Bates" I said to him,"let your arrows be true and straight.....and get your bow down before Brian of Loxley" takes flight!
funny you should say that, was just thinking it is time to cock a leg. the birch is a good as the oak in any forest and sounds like one of your clan too... as for barking, hmmm, the OH has been doing THOSE glares - bet you know them too!
na Bri, you're barking up the wrong tree there...you up for a swift one at the Oak later...?
... Tally ho and here we go...the bey of the hounds, a sharp blow on the horn. Great great great uncle Amos Burke, a respected Hunt-master, was capable of taking anyone by surprise at he thundered up behind, a ton of sweaty horse meat throbbing between his legs. His mount, every sinew taut and the veins on the shaft of his neck standing proud like a map of Berkshire....
Post hunt, it was always back to the paddocks for a good hose down and a quickie. Beatie Berk and her sisters, renowned on the chase for their cunning stunts, were always happy to accommodate anyone at the drop of a deerstalker....well known, of course, in the surrounding villages, often you could hear the little people, doffing their caps and shouting excitedly "hey here comes Beatie's box now", highly visible in the country lanes by the bright and colourful 'Berk's livery....Amos still hangs in our parlour...along with other member of the family.. a reminder of those happy days, before the death duties hit hard.
Now it is time! Yes folk, they have arrived. The bit you have all been waiting for. Dada, fanfare, tata tata!
The leprechauns reached for their bows, enough feckin' balloons all over Berkshire, they had to go. Has anybody ever noticed how a large gathering of people with tweed jackets with elbow patches and cavalry twill trousers lowing like massed sheep can do what they like? Put half a dozen black or Irish people in one place and the law is there with riot gear in minutes. If they happen to be particularly small, with snubby noses and red hair then the army is called in as well. With orange balloons being shot down by people in green then the army and airforce turn up as well. Such prejudices do not go down well amongst small people, so smurfs invited themselves... Gets messy now so perhaps we should leave it here... Nah, along came Ron's great, great, great aunt with her hunt and cunningly stunted them all.
Quite right Bruce! ...and !t's been the bane of my life. Sadly I never got to see my great, great, great Aunt's Berkeley Hunt, but I do believe it was quite a spectacle.
Zoe, such a lovely story, thanks, that's made my day! I can just see you with the 'mini' Guinness....Thank you.
And I always thought that "berk" was Cockney rhyming slang", and short for "Berkshire Hunt"!
my father-in-law is like that. ex-civil servant who seems serious to cannot do more, plus two strokes that have cancelled loads of memory. cross the border with him and he goes berserk - keeping the Swiss in Switzerland is like champagne. take them out of the cellar, pop the cork.... and...
solidarity among men, haha.
My grandad rocked... he used to tell my mother and granny that he was taking me fishing, we'd leave with his fishing rod, and me on a tricyle..... just round the corner, we'd leave both in behind the wall of a neighbour (Timmy Flynn), and we'd head to the pub.... for every Guinness he'd have, I'd get a small glass of Guinness.... on the way home, he'd BUY a couple of salmon or trout from the local butcher, and my grandmother and mother thought he was a great man for having the patience to keep me quiet and fish salmon out of the shannon at the same time
tonight was a feckin howl. We have 3 busloads of swiss OAPs that are actually a SKI club. They gave me a run for my money. It's half one in the morning, and I've only just closed the bar, much to their disgust. They brought their own accordion, so it was like the RER B for the night.
I was at -1, and called the lift, a lady stepped out and swung a key at me, and said "je cherche la 509".. i go, "ah, 2ieme etage, madame", press the button, and let her off... then I take the stairs, and am on the ground floor, passing the lift, i see the doors open, out steps the SAME woman, with her key, and says "bonjour madame, je cherche la 509"... I actually exploded with laughter.... not very professional, but having just stopped a man from pissing in a wardrobe, and explaining to another man that the rubbish bin cabin was NOT a ski locker, i seriously could not hold it in.
These golden oldies make me wonder if the whole world I live in is just as warped as I can be, lol
ha ha Zoe, yeah, whiskey and pliers...makes me shudder, your Granddad tho' wonderful stuff, made me chuckle, what a picture!
lol, my aunt used to wash the spuds in fairy liquid... we used to say "they're very floury spuds, Cathy"
Far as car crashes are concerned, many a mate I've helped pull their car out of ditches, haha. There is also the whole teeth pulling ordeal, where whiskey and a pliers come into play. My grandfather broke his leg once, and his neighbour took him to the pub every night for 4 months in a wheelbarrow!
Right now with the broken shoulder my OH is literally my nurse, showering me and stuff like that even. So respect. Switching him off could catapult me back to utter boredom which is not good with quite constant pain. So if you will excuse me, I shall continue to keep a foot on the throttle! Anyway, the world is far too serious right now so let us big kids play.
Do feel free to switch my husband off! He'll just carry on regardless. From Michelle his nurse
he got shot didn't he?