Friday, 6 March 2026

New guidelines

 

New guidelines

The UK Government, in its infinite wisdom, has advised potential employers to remove ‘stereotypically masculine’ language from advertisements, in order that female applicants are not deterred from applying for jobs. It, or rather, the ‘Office for Equality and Opportunity’ claims that the aim of the advice is to remove ‘invisible barriers’ and ‘ensure women can thrive at work.’

The offensive words include ‘ambitious,’ ‘competitive,’ and ‘entrepreneurial.’ Ye gods and little fishes!

 This is not a joke, but it is patronising and insulting. I wonder how long it will be before the ‘advice’ is adapted or withdrawn in the face of disbelief and outrage from working women.

It will just be yet another U-turn in a growing list of about turns.

Thursday, 5 March 2026

Orange Fizz

 

Orange Fizz

'Orange Fizz'

Scented leaf pelargoniums have their origins in South Africa. The leaves, with their distinctive scents, can be used in cooking, pot pourri, or aromatic oils. They are often effective in dissuading pests from plants.

We have several in the conservatory. The flowers are less flamboyant than those of the garden pelargoniums or geraniums, but are pretty and detailed. They bloom at various times and the one presently flowering is ‘Orange Fizz.’ It has an intense orange smell.

Scented leaf pelargoniums can spend the summer outside, but, in common with geraniums, will not withstand frost and must be brought back indoors as temperatures cool.

Wednesday, 4 March 2026

 

Collective

Rather than reply individually to your very kind comments, for which I thank you all very much, I thought I’d give you a generalised update on Jellicoe’s Jolly Japes.

Last Thursday, he had an operation to remove a tumour above his left eye. At the same time, an associated lymph node was removed. Tissue was taken from his mouth to reconstruct his eyelid. (In humans, a graft would be taken from any suitable part of the body since we’re not generally covered in fur/hair.)

After four nights away, he came home on Monday. He was very pleased to be back in his old stamping ground and was enthusiastically sniffed by his house mates (not the human ones!) Gilbert is rather worried by the blue cone that moves about the house but is coming to terms with it being a temporary addition to his friend, Jellicoe.

As he could not eat normally, an oesophageal tube was placed in his neck, and it is through this that all food and medication is delivered via syringe.

Not being experts, we worry at every little twitch or hiccough, but he seems to be surviving, despite our attentions. We are less ham-fisted as time and feedings pass, and should be proficient by the end of the week, when, hopefully, the feeding tube will be removed, and our new expertise will no longer be required. He’s sleeping a lot, which is to be expected, since he’s been coshed with drugs, but is interested in food, though he’s not allowed to attempt to eat at the moment. He is more alert, when not asleep (!) and every small improvement is welcomed.

At present, he looks as though he’s been involved in a bar brawl and has definitely come off worst. To be honest, he looks a mess, but will improve as the swellings reduce. We still keep telling him he’s a beautiful boy, but he really isn’t, apart from temperamentally.

To think that some humans put themselves through surgery to improve what Nature bestowed on them! It’s just not worth it. 

Tuesday, 3 March 2026

 

Jellicoe comes home

Jellicoe is home after a few days in the Aura animal hospital in Guildford.

         He has to have five feeds a day, taking half an hour each, plus medication.                                                            

It’s a good thing we haven’t anything else to do in the next few days!                          

  

Monday, 2 March 2026

The Keeper

The Keeper


Roe deer

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

 This is an English folk song. It sounds very jolly, but is an account of a hunt to kill a deer.

I am unable to embed it, but it can be found here.

Jack is a diminutive of John, and Jackie is an adaptation of Jack.

It is a call and response song. The responses are shown in parentheses.

  The keeper did a hunting go
And under his cloak he carried a bow
All for to shoot a merry little doe
Among the leaves so green, O.

(Chorus)

Jackie boy! (Master!) Sing ye well! (Very well!)
Hey down (Ho down) Derry derry down
Among the leaves so green, O
To my hey down down (To my ho down down)
Hey down (Ho down) Derry derry down
Among the leaves so green, O


The first doe he shot at he missed;
The second doe he trimmed he kissed;
The third doe went where nobody wist
Among the leaves so green, O.



The fourth doe she did cross the plain,
The keeper fetched her back again.
Where she is now, she may remain,
Among the leaves so green, O.



The fifth doe she did cross the brook;
The keeper fetched her back with his crook;
Where she is now you may go and look
Among the leaves so green, O.


The sixth doe she ran over the plain;
But he with his hounds did turn her again,
And it's there he did hunt in a merry, merry vein
Among the leaves so green, 0.

Sunday, 1 March 2026

Jack Tar

 

Jack Tar

The True British Tar, 1785
Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

John was the most popular name for a boy from around 1150 to 1470 and its pet name or diminutive was Jack, which became widespread from the late fourteenth century onwards. It denoted an ordinary or low-class man, or peasant, and was applied to any low-born or common male.

It gave rise to expressions like, ‘Every man Jack,’ meaning every man in a group, with no exemptions.

 ‘Jack of all trades (master of none)’ indicated a person who could turn his hand to any task, while ‘Jack the lad’ described a youth who was self-assured and maybe roguish. These idioms are still used today.

In the seventeenth century, someone trying to improve his social standing, to ‘rise above his station in life,’ would be described as ‘Jack would be a gentleman.’

Royal Navy Boatswain (Bosun) 1820
Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

There are a few suggestions for how the name Jack Tar came to be applied to sailors. In the seventeenth to nineteenth centuries, when wooden sailing vessels relied on wind for power and propulsion, the rigging for the sails was hemp rope. Being permanently in a damp atmosphere, they were prone to rot, so were covered in tar, which had to be replaced frequently. Tar was also used on the deck planking, and the ship’s hull, to make everything waterproof. Sailors were therefore often liberally coated in tar. Tarpaulins, canvas material coated in tar, were used to cover objects on deck, and sailors’ clothing was made of tarpaulin. It was but a short jump from the name of the material to the name for the man.

There is a belief, unsubstantiated, that sailors tarred their hair, which they wore in a long plait, to prevent it being caught in the rigging. This led to another plausible legend, that the purpose of the square collar of a sailor’s uniform was to protect his uniform being stained by tar from his queue or plait.

Coopers were skilled craftsmen in the nineteenth century whose job was to assemble or maintain casks on board. When a barrel of wine or spirits was emptied, it would be filled with boiling water and rolled about. The drink thus produced was known as grog and the coopers became known as Jolly Jack Tars or groggers.

The invention of grog is ascribed to Admiral Edward ‘Old Grog’ Vernon. His nickname came from his habit of wearing coats of grogram (grosgrain) In 1740, he sought to counteract and reduce inebriation among his crew, by adding water to the rum. With the addition of lime juice, to combat scurvy (and the reason Englishmen are called ‘limeys’) and sugar to sweeten the taste, grog became a staple drink.

Natives of Swansea, in South Wales, are known as Jacks, or ‘Swansea Jacks.’ Swansea men had a reputation for being skilled seamen and, as such, their services were greatly desired by the navy.

Saturday, 28 February 2026

Nelson’s Blood

 

Nelson’s Blood

                                    Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Nelson’s Blood is Jackspeak for rum. Jackspeak is the slang that has developed over more than four hundred years in the Royal Navy and Royal Marines. ‘Jack’ derives from Jack Tar, one of the nicknames for RN sailors.

So, why is rum called Nelson’s Blood? It has long been recounted that when Admiral Lord Nelson died at the Battle of Trafalgar, his body was preserved in a barrel of spirits, mixed with camphor and myrrh. In this way it was returned to England on HMS Victory, to lie in state in Greenwich before being incarcerated in St Paul’s Cathedral crypt.

The preserving spirit was brandy, not rum, but rum was the spirit introduced to the Royal Navy in 1655 as an alternative to beer, and water. Rum was unlikely to deteriorate and grow algae on long voyages. The daily rum ration, or tot, was distributed around midday, at ‘Up Spirits,’ to which a common response from the sailors was, ‘Stand fast the Holy Ghost.’

Though often referred to as Nelson’s Blood, rum is frequently called Pusser’s Rum. A pusser is naval slang for a purser, the crew member responsible for a ship’s logistics, and therefore the person accountable for supplying the daily tot. ‘Pusser’ implies exemplary service.

The legend of Nelson’s Blood is that sailors drilled holes in the barrel of spirits containing his body and drained off the liquid to drink!

In December 1969, just over three hundred years after the daily tot was instituted, the Admiralty became increasingly concerned that imbibing strong spirits at lunchtime was making it dangerous when sailors were operating complex onboard systems. The daily rum ration was about to become history. The final tot to the fleet was poured a few months later, on ‘Black Tot Day.’ Any remaining rum rations were auctioned off.

Nine years later, the Admiralty agreed to rum being created from the original Royal Navy recipe. It was called Pusser’s Rum. As part of the agreement, the Royal Navy Sailors’ Fund, now the Royal Navy and Royal Marines Charity (RNRMC), receives a donation from each sale.