Quick spot of happy

Happy slightly late birthdays to the elegant and witty violetage  and to the passionate and delightful salixbabylon . And a very happy birthday for today to shoeboxer4life , whose encouragement and thoughtfulness is so marvellous for so many!

Quick spot of happy

Happy slightly late birthdays to the elegant and witty violetage  and to the passionate and delightful salixbabylon . And a very happy birthday for today to shoeboxer4life , whose encouragement and thoughtfulness is so marvellous for so many!

Oh dear ...

I'm feeling unwell, so swapped tomorrow's day off to today and slept (it's not the flu redux, but I think it is another bloody cold, could I please just get well? I will eat steak and garlic and see if that helps.)

Since I am feeling manky, I am watching Time Team where they are digging a redoubt in Kent. I am writing at the same time, so have only been paying it half an ear. But I noticed: "In 1793, France declared war on Great Britain".

Distractedly, I thought, "Wow, that's really weird, I wonder why? It's centuries after the Hundred Years' War ..."

A few minutes later, as the Time Teamers chainsawed brush back, a small section of my brain piped up loudly enough to be heard.

"Excuse me? Brammers? That would be the French Revolutionary War that you studied at school and that two of your ancestors fought in."

"Oh, good point," said the larger, more febrile bart of my brain. "Yeah, because we were at war with them after their revolution, weren't we?"

"Yes," said the small part of my brain. "And for quite some time after. Do you remember that chap Napoleon?"

There was a pause while the two parts of my brain surveyed each other, one smugly, the other coldly.

"Nobody likes a know-it-all," said the larger part.

There are perils to a field of interest that ends in the early 1600s and doesn't pick up again until the 1870s. Being told off by your own brain is but one of them.

Oh dear ...

I'm feeling unwell, so swapped tomorrow's day off to today and slept (it's not the flu redux, but I think it is another bloody cold, could I please just get well? I will eat steak and garlic and see if that helps.)

Since I am feeling manky, I am watching Time Team where they are digging a redoubt in Kent. I am writing at the same time, so have only been paying it half an ear. But I noticed: "In 1793, France declared war on Great Britain".

Distractedly, I thought, "Wow, that's really weird, I wonder why? It's centuries after the Hundred Years' War ..."

A few minutes later, as the Time Teamers chainsawed brush back, a small section of my brain piped up loudly enough to be heard.

"Excuse me? Brammers? That would be the French Revolutionary War that you studied at school and that two of your ancestors fought in."

"Oh, good point," said the larger, more febrile bart of my brain. "Yeah, because we were at war with them after their revolution, weren't we?"

"Yes," said the small part of my brain. "And for quite some time after. Do you remember that chap Napoleon?"

There was a pause while the two parts of my brain surveyed each other, one smugly, the other coldly.

"Nobody likes a know-it-all," said the larger part.

There are perils to a field of interest that ends in the early 1600s and doesn't pick up again until the 1870s. Being told off by your own brain is but one of them.