Bicorne

 

Bicorne

Napoleon Bonaparte

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

I have been listening to the Wellington and Napoleon Quartet, by Simon Scarrow. It is historical fiction portraying the parallel lives and careers of Arthur Wellesley, (1^st Duke of Wellington) and Napoleon Bonaparte (1st Emperor of France) A small detail that jumped out at me last night was about the bicorne, and active duty.

The bicorne is a two-pointed hat, usually seen in portraits of Bonaparte, or Wellington, or Admiral Lord Nelson, during the time of the Napoleonic Wars (1803-1815). 

Anne, Princess Royal

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

It is still seen in ceremonial dress, though usually in fore-and-aft fashion, whereas Bonaparte et al wore theirs side-to-side, or ‘athwart.’  

By the beginning of the nineteenth century, the practice of wearing bicornes fore-and-aft became more popular. It was more practical, because there was reduced wind resistance, when marching or riding, and a smaller likelihood of interference with weapons. There was also less chance of it being knocked off!

Napoleon famously continued to wear his athwart, while Wellington, according to the author Simon Scarrow, altered his from athwart to fore-and-aft to indicate that he was on active duty.

Green shoots?

Not oak, but new rose leaves.

Not all new spring growth is green. The leaves in the oak trees near us are a rich bronze-red colour when they emerge, turning green later on in the year. The red colour is from high levels of anthocyanins, which provide an important natural defence against damaging sunlight. The chlorophyll in young leaves is protected until the leaves mature, and turn first light and then darker green.

Red leaves are less likely to be eaten by pests. Studies have shown that red indicates that a plant is not good enough to eat, lacking nitrogen, or is tough and more difficult to chew. Additionally, some sick or dying plants have red leaves, so will be avoided by herbivores, both insect and mammal.

Freelance

 

Freelance

Where did this expression originate? Were freelancers otherwise known as mercenaries, ‘lances for hire,’ ready to fight for whoever would pay them?

I digress. Our middle daughter, Susannah, is an excellent organiser. Weeks ago, she organised a day’s sailing for her father, brother, and eldest nephew. As the time drew near, she fretted over weather forecasts, but all looked set fair for a glorious day on the Solent. Every day this week the weather was beautiful until today, the day of the projected sail. The forecast was dismal. After much deliberation, they decided to make the most of it anyway. It might be a bit damp and there probably wouldn’t be much wind, but they’d have a good day out together.

Susannah is a television producer. When her contract ended recently, she became freelance. ‘Times is hard’ and jobs are few and far between. The nature of the work means that she is called at sometimes very short notice to work unsocial hours. That happened on Friday evening and she found she would be required to work all weekend as well as next week. She was very torn. Obviously, she couldn’t refuse the job, needing to keep her name in the forefront of potential employers’ minds, and not knowing when or if another would crop up any time soon. She thought long and hard about taking her laptop with her to the boat, so that she could work there. Reluctantly, she decided against that, needing to be on immediate call, and concluding that it would be difficult to concentrate on the job.

She was really upset, especially when her brother, Gareth, drove up with one of his sons. It was the right decision, but it has unsettled her. She had intended staying with us for a few days, but now has to return to London, as the job requires her to go to the office on Tuesday.

The men had a most enjoyable day. The sun shone, the wind blew gently, and the projected rain didn’t appear until late afternoon. It was very pleasant for them to spend time together. Callum, our eldest grandson, and Louis, Gareth’s younger son, are close in age, and employed in the same world as their elders.

Meanwhile, Susannah has highlighted another day for sailing. If nothing else, it may ensure that she is provided with work! She wasn’t very amused by that observation.

(Postscript: I just looked up the derivation of freelance and found the following:

The term “freelance” originates from the Middle Ages, where it was used to describe a “free lance,” referring to a medieval mercenary or knight who was not permanently employed by any lord or king. These knights offered their services to the highest bidder, often being hired for specific battles or campaigns.)

A veritable forest

 

A veritable forest

Api noir apples

Image source

This morning a long cardboard container was delivered to our front door. We knew from the depiction of flowers on the box that the contents were living plants, but we hadn’t ordered any.

They were carefully packed and secured to prevent damage during transit, and we soon discovered that we had been given a veritable forest of fruit trees and shrubs. There were six altogether. If we’re lucky and look after our trees properly, we should be rewarded with some sweet fruit, though probably not this year, of course.

‘Peregrine’ peach is reputedly one of the best-flavoured peaches, heavy cropping, and giving juicy white-flesh fruit from August. It is self-fertile, so does not need a compatible partner.

Apricot ‘Large early’ is also self-fertile, providing large, sweet fruit with orange-yellow flesh from late June to early August. It is described as ‘hardy’ and ‘dependable.’

‘Patio’ nectarine is grown on dwarf root stock and should not grow more than two metres tall. It does not need to be pruned, and is loved by bees. It, too, does not require a pollination partner.

‘Early Rivers’ cherry is an English tree that gives large, almost black, sweet cherries in the first half of June. It is one of the earliest cherries to ripen. It is said to be a heavy regular cropper, and has been grown since 1872. It is self-sterile, so needs a partner. We will attempt to identify our current cherry tree, which produced masses of white blossom this year, and hopefully it will be compatible.

‘Api noir’ apple is a French dessert apple, probably dating from the seventeenth century. It, too, is self-sterile, so perhaps one of our apple trees will fulfil the required task. The apples are small, and purple to almost black. They are plentiful and sweet and keep well.

The Goji berry (Lycium barbarum) is a member of the Nightshade family (Solanaceae) and is native to China. It was originally used for hedging and as a decorative garden plant when it was first brought to the UK by the Duke of Argyll in the early eighteenth century.

All six plants are suitable to grow in patio containers.

They were a gift from our eldest daughter. Thank you, Gillian!

Bow windshield

 

Bow windshield

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Watching the Solent to see if the sea was as rough as we had been led to expect (it wasn’t) we saw the CMA CGM Montmartre leaving Southampton on her one-month voyage to Port Klang in Malaysia.

She is an extremely large vessel, but was making way on her own, without the assistance of tugs, so presumably was relying on large, effective bow thrusters to make the sharp turn into the main channel.

We noticed her large green bow windshield, or wind deflector. Such devices have been fitted on container ships since 2015. They have proved to improve a ship’s aerodynamic profile, reducing resistance, fuel consumption, and carbon emissions.

At present, bow windshields can only be seen on container ships, but it is expected that environmental considerations will see them becoming more widely employed. They can be retrofitted on existing ships in dry dock.

 

Ligers

 

Ligers

Liger

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Ligers result from a mating between a male lion (Panthera leo) and a female tiger (Panthera tigris) They are the largest known cats in the world. They have been recorded since the 1800s, when they were first publicly exhibited.

 Ligers do not occur naturally in the wild, since the habitats of lions and tigers are quite separate and do not overlap. Although there is a small Asian population of lions, they are generally associated with Africa. Tigers are found only in Asia. Therefore, ligers can only occur in captivity, where the two species have been kept together.

It was human curiosity, and an urge to conduct deliberate experiments in controlled breeding, that led to them being mated. The resulting litters produced animals which developed into exceptionally large adults, much larger than either of their parents.

 As with most hybrids, the males, though interested in and capable of copulation, are sterile. Female ligers have the ability to conceive and reproduce viable cubs, but these may be more delicate and prone to congenital defects and other health problems. Tiger mothers often reject their liger cubs. In one well-documented case, in 1824, a terrier bitch was employed to suckle three rejected liger cubs in Thomas Atkins’ travelling menagerie. These were probably the first ligers ever seen in Britain.

Ligers display characteristics of both lions and tigers. They are sociable animals, like lions, whereas tigers are solitary. They enjoy swimming, which is something tigers enjoy. In appearance, they display faint tiger-striped patterning on the tawny background usually associated with lions.

  Cubs produced from a mating between a male tiger and a female lion are called tigons.

House of Commons Select Committee

 

House of Commons Select Committee

House of Commons flag

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

It’s a drizzly morning, so a good opportunity to sit and watch a House of Commons select committee.

Such committees are an excellent example of how cross-party politics could work.  They are composed of small groups of MPs appointed to conduct inquiries, question experts and ministers, and make recommendations. They cover a variety of topics like education, public spending, allegations of misconduct.

This morning’s committees followed Sir Oliver Robbins’ appearance last week. The first to be questioned was Sir Philip Barton, former Permanent Under-Secretary at the Foreign Office, preceding Olly Robbins. He was followed by Morgan McSweeney, former Downing Street Chief of Staff.

The answers to the questions posed raise more questions about the appointment of Peter Mandelson as British Ambassador to the USA.

The plot thickens!

 

 

 

Axolotls

 

Axolotls (Ambystoma mexicanum)

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

On holiday recently, a ten-year-old girl found an axolotl under a bridge over the River Ogmore in Bridgend. Experts said that the axolotl would have died if she had not rescued it, either as a tasty morsel, or because of conditions to which it was not suited. It is possible, though not proven, that this specimen was an unfortunate pet that had outgrown its fascination for its owner. Such is the fate of many creatures.

Axolotls are found in the wild only in the lakes of the Mexican Central Valley. They are a critically endangered species.  They are named after Xolotl, the Aztec god of fire and lightning. The legend holds that he turned himself into an axolotl to avoid sacrifice by other gods. Axolotls are an important feature in Mexican culture, appearing in murals and on bank notes.

They are bred in captivity for research purposes, because they have an extraordinary ability to regenerate parts of their bodies, including limbs, and parts of their eyes, brains, and hearts.

They are neotenic, meaning that they reach maturity without metamorphosing from a fully aquatic form to an amphibious being, as salamanders or tadpoles do. Consequently, they retain their feathery gills and live their entire lives in water.

            They can be triggered into metamorphosis in laboratory conditions through an injection of iodine or thyroxine. Following that, the gills and fins are resorbed, while lungs develop, and eyelids grow, allowing them to adapt to life on land. They then resemble salamanders, though differences are visible. For example, a metamorphosed axolotl’s toes are longer than a salamander’s!

Wild axolotls are carnivorous, preying on small fish, worms, molluscs and other aquatic beasts. They are attracted to food by smell, and suck it into their stomachs. They have teeth, but they are vestigial and serve no practical purpose. The average lifespan of a wild axolotl is five years, though some manage to survive for ten. In captivity, they typically live between ten and fifteen years, though exceptionally, some can reach twenty years.

Axolotls become sexually mature between eighteen and twenty-four months, and reproduce through external fertilisation. The average length of a mature axolotl is 23 cms (9 inches) though there is some variation.

Concern about the axolotl’s decline has led to attempts to release captive-bred individuals, but the very real fear is that they will suffer the same fate as wild-bred animals. Pollution, the introduction of non-native predators, and greater urbanisation, all threaten the future of these fascinating creatures.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Harry Flakers

 

Harry Flakers

Roxy likes sunbathing!

Last night, as Roxy lay sleeping (sounds like the beginning of a poem!) Barry commented that she was Harry Flakers. She and Gilbert had had a wonderful walk, dashing in and out of ponds and undergrowth, sniffing here, snuffling there, thoroughly enjoying themselves. Playing in water always seems to be more tiring than simply running. Anyway, there she lay. Gilbert was also asleep, accompanied by Jellicoe and Herschel, one either side.

When I was at school, I had to take two buses to travel there. I always met a friend at the second stop, and one day she told me her sister was ‘Harry Preggers.’ I didn’t query what she meant, just noted that she was about to become an aunt. Years later, I wondered why putting ‘Harry’ at the beginning of a phrase was thought necessary.  What did it add? Did it mean ‘very?’

I’ve just looked it up. It was ‘upper class’ British slang, originating in the 1930s and 40s from the upper ranks of the Royal Navy, and Oxford University undergraduates, and not much in use currently. During the Second World War it became part of ‘jackspeak,’ about which I have written before. I have also learnt that ‘Harry’ is a ‘meaningless intensifier.’

So, ‘Harry Flakers’ means extremely tired, or ‘flaked out.’ ‘Harry Starkers’ means stark naked, stark meaning ‘completely.’ ‘Harry Flatters’ can mean a flat, calm sea, or driving at maximum speed, or lying down and resting. ‘Harry Hotters’ would be used in a ship’s engine room.

There are other ‘Harry’ expressions, but ‘Harry Flakers’ is the only one we use occasionally, perhaps because we both, separately, grew up in the Medway Towns, (now known as Medway) and were unconsciously influenced by Naval and Military tradition. I don’t recall my parents or my mother-in-law ever using such an expression. (I just asked Barry, and he thinks he picked it up at Sandhurst. Many of his instructors were Second World War veterans.)

It does, however, perfectly describe the total relaxation of a well-exercised dog, or lively toddler.

Brainy bees

 

Brainy bees

The 'Waggle Dance' is a communication behavior observed in honeybees, where a dancing bee moves in a straight line and then in a semicircle to convey information about the distance and direction of a food source to other colony members.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Image source

Robin at TheCrankyCrow was wondering how people discovered that bees could count. It has long been known that honey bees return to their hive and ‘dance’ to tell the other bees where to go, and how far, to find nectar and pollen. 

Bees have minute brains, yet display behaviour usually associated with larger, more complex nervous systems. Experimenters in the 1990s trained honey bees to discriminate between pictures showing different numbers of shapes. They learned that choosing an image with the required number of shapes earned them a sweet reward. If they chose a picture with ‘fewer shapes’ they were given a bitter treat as a disincentive. 

Once they were indicating a high degree of accuracy, of about 80%, they were tested without rewards to discover if they really recognised number difference. When the shapes were changed, or rearranged, the bees continued to choose the correct images, thus showing that they were responding to number, not pattern.

Bees also showed that they noticed and counted landmarks in their flight path. If landmarks were removed or added, the bees adjusted their flight to find the food.

Further research demonstrated that bees can count to at least five, comparable to many vertebrates, though you’ll never hear them chanting their numbers. They can be taught simple arithmetic and understand that ‘zero’ is a quantity smaller than one.

In attempting to understand the mathematical brains of bees, I have succeeded in confusing myself somewhat.

A bumblebee choosing between two patterns containing different numbers of yellow circles.

 Credit Lars Chittka

Image source

Live and learn (4)

 

Live and learn (4)

Skirret

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Polygon a few weeks ago gave me ‘skirret,’ which is a lovely word in its own right. It sounds as though it should be something to do with cooking, like a skillet.

In fact, skirret, or Sium sisarum is a root vegetable belonging to the same family as carrots and parsnips. The name comes from the Middle English ‘skirwhit’ or ’skirwort’ which means ‘white root.’

The Scots call it ‘crummock,’ while the Danes know it as ‘sukkerrod.’ In Dutch it is called ‘suikerwortel’ and its German name is ‘Zuckerwurzel,’ which means sugar root.

It develops a mass of bright white roots which are best harvested during the winter, before the plant is active. If left until spring, the roots may become woody, more fibrous and covered in hairs. Skirret is prepared and cooked in a similar fashion to other root plants, or it can be grated and eaten raw in salad.

Recipe for Skirret Pie from 'The Family Receipt-Book, 1820'
Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

It was a popular vegetable before potatoes became available to Britain in the late 16^th century. However, although it is easy to cultivate, it doesn’t keep well, and is of unpredictable size and quality. In addition, it is awkward to clean. It can be grown as an ornamental plant, producing clusters of small white flowers in the summer.

April 23rd

 

April 23^rd

Saint George slaying the dragon

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

April 23^rd is St George’s Day, England’s national day, though this Christian Roman soldier never visited England. He lived and died in or near present-day Israel. He was a Greek-speaking officer in the Roman army, and was executed for his beliefs around 303 AD. By the 8^th century AD, he had become known and revered in England for his courage and piety.

During the Crusades (1095-1291) soldiers invoked his name on the battlefield as they fought to defend the Holy Land, or regain it from Muslim rule. He was adopted as a martyr by Edward III, who made him the patron of the Order of the Garter in 1348. The dragon he was alleged to have slain made its appearance in St George’s story several hundred years after his death.

 The dragon represented paganism, evil, and chaos. The beautiful damsel/princess the dragon had captured and who St George saved, was the personification of purity and innocence.

St George is honoured in many other countries, including Ethiopia, Hungary, Greece, and Catalonia.

April 23^rd is also remembered as William Shakespeare’s birth (1564) and death date (1616). The precise date of his birth was not recorded, but he was baptised on 26^th April 1564. 

At that time, babies were typically baptised three days after birth. Infant death was common in the 16^th century, and the prevalent belief was that baptism washed away the original sin in which they were born and granted them salvation.

  

 

Forget-me-not (Myosotis) 

These unassuming little flowers are among my garden favourites. The dainty flowers return every spring, becoming more abundant each year.

 Blooming from April to the end of October, they are usually dressed in shades of blue, but sometimes appear in pink or white

They are a symbol of true love and remembrance. Our vets always send a small packet of forget-me-nots with a condolence note when one of our pets crosses the Rainbow Bridge.

One legend about forget-me-nots tells of a pair of sweethearts who were walking by the River Danube, when they spotted beautiful blue flowers growing on a small island in the river. The young man leapt into the water and battled through the strong current, managing to reach the island and pick some of the flowers. On his return journey, the waters proved too strong for him, and as he was being swept away, he threw the posy to his love, crying ‘Forget me not’. She wore forget-me-nots in her hair until the day she died.

The yellow centres indicate that the flowers are full of nectar. When the flower has been pollinated, the centres turn white. This indicates to bees and other pollinators, that the flowers are no longer offering nectar, the food they are seeking. The cupboard is bare, and they should look elsewhere.

Did you know that bees can count, and recognise images of human faces?

 

An extra pair of hands

 

An extra pair of hands

Susannah is staying with us for a few days, and insisting on helping. We took her at her word. Barry hacked, I pruned, and Susannah cleared and graunched and mulched. The brown gardening waste bin is filling satisfactorily, and the trees will appreciate the mulch.

We got so much more done with that very useful extra pair of hands, and the strength and energy they’re attached to.  She commented that it’s not a low-maintenance garden. It’s better than it was. When I remarked that we’d removed on arch, she said, ‘I knew there was something different, but I couldn’t think what it was.’

Well, we haven’t seen her since Christmas!

Gilbert went upstairs to our bed – he didn’t like the noise of the grauncher. Roxy relaxed, happy to be left to her own devices and not be asked to play by Susannah’s dog, Arthur. He wanted to come outside with us, and helped in the only way he could think of, by bringing some toys out and eviscerating them.

April birthdays

 

April birthdays

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

There is only one April birthday in my family, and it is mine. There are two zodiac signs covering April, (mid-March to mid-April and mid-April to mid-May) Aries and Taurus. The first covers the dates from March 21^st to April 19^th. Taurus covers April 20^th to May 20^th. It’s entertaining to look at the different traits associated with each one and consider how appropriate they are.

There are people who take horoscopes very seriously. One of my nieces spends much time charting horoscopes. I look at daily forecasts for amusement, and choose the one I find most favourable to my circumstances at any given time. I have a similar approach to weather forecasts, and frequently seek out the one that is most amenable.

People born under the Fire sign of Aries are represented by the Ram, and ruled by the planet Mars. Though Mars looks hot and red, it is actually a cold, dry world. Ariens are said to be natural leaders, enthusiastically taking charge with confidence and passion. They are honest and outspoken, but can be impatient and moody. It sounds as though they act first, perhaps on impulse, and consider their actions later, maybe with regret. Maybe those curly horns are used to favourable effect.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Those born under the Earth sign of Taurus are ruled by Venus, which is the hottest planet in the solar system. The symbol for Taurus is the Bull. Its subjects are thought to be patient and devoted, but also stubborn. They dislike sudden change, and seek comfort and stability, to satisfy their sensory needs. They are not the ‘bull in a china shop’ I thought they might be.

Do you know your horoscope sign? Do your character and temperament align with it?

 

How do you eat your animals?

 

How do you eat your animals?

                        Chicken of the Woods (Laetiporus sulphureus)

The pig that Tom the piper’s son stole was actually an apple filled pastry and it made me wonder about other possibly misleading food items. I’m mainly thinking about local, British things.

Pigs in blankets, surrounding a roast chicken 

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

The first that sprang to mind was ‘Pigs in blankets,’ a favourite accompaniment to roast turkey at Christmas. They are chipolatas wrapped in bacon rashers, very tasty and extremely salty. There are other versions, and I gather in the US that pigs in blankets are sausages wrapped in croissant dough, sometimes with cheese.

Hot dogs originated in Germany and/or Austria and made their way to UK in the early 20^th century via US. Eleanor Roosevelt served them to King George VI in 1939 in New York. Why dogs? They share a passing resemblance to a dachshund, a ‘sausage dog,’ and there was some question around 1880, about where the meat in them was sourced. Some queried whether it was from dogs, or horses. I suppose they might just as well have been called horses, and we might now be eating ‘hot horses.’

                                            Garibaldi biscuits
                                    Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

‘Fly cemeteries,’ more properly known Garibaldi biscuits, are currants or raisins squashed and baked between two strips of sweet pastry. Personally, Garibaldi biscuits are not popular, perhaps because of my older brother’s teasing. Legend has it that the biscuit was named after Guiseppe Garibaldi, after he sat on two biscuits while on a visit to South Shields in England.

                                        Toad-in-the-hole
                                    Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

‘Toad-in-the-hole’ was originally a means of making meat go further in poorer households. It usually consists of sausages baked in Yorkshire pudding batter, though historically other meats have been used. Batter puddings were popular in early 18^th century England.

‘Fish fingers’ are surely confusing to the thoughtful child, though they do have some relation to fish, if not actually digits. 

                                            Langues de chat
                                        Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Almost as horrifying are ‘langues de chat,’ for who would not baulk at the prospect of eating cats’ tongues? These are French-inspired sweet, crunchy biscuits in the shape of a cat’s tongue, and a genteel tea-time treat, or so I’m told.

                                                Welsh rabbit
                                            Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Travelling from France to Wales, we encounter ‘Welsh rabbit.’  No rabbit is hurt in this concoction of melted cheese on toast. It is thought that ‘rabbit’ was an insult, inferring that the Welsh were too poor to provide meat to eat. The name changed to ‘Welsh Rarebit’ in the late 18^th century in a bid to ‘gentrify’ the dish. It often has ale, or mustard, or Worcestershire sauce added to it for extra flavour, and makes a quick, satisfying meal or snack.

In Scotland, ‘Cock-a-leekie-soup’ is a traditional dish. It is made with chicken or chicken stock, and many leeks, and much pepper, and often has barley added to thicken it. Sometimes prunes are an additional ingredient, which give sweetness to complement and counteract the fiery strength of the soup.

Scotch Woodcock is not Scottish, and nor does it have anything to do with the elusive, declining Woodcock (Scolopax Rusticola) It was a popular dish in the mid-19^th century at the House of Commons and the then élite Universities of Cambridge and Oxford. It consists of scrambled eggs and anchovies served on toast, and was recorded in ‘Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management.’

‘Chicken of the Woods’ (Laetiporus sulphureus) is not a bird, either, but an edible mushroom found on the trunks of woodland trees, commonly oak or sweet chestnut, from late spring to autumn. Said to taste of chicken, it has a similar texture to chicken, and is useful in vegetarian stews in lieu of meat. It is also an important food for much wildlife, particularly some beetles which only feed on bracket fungi.

Tom

 

Tom

Scanned page from 'The Baby's Opera' by Walter Crane, 1878 edition by McLoughlin Bros. in New York.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

YP was the inspiration, if that’s the appropriate word, for this post.

There are two nursery rhymes I know about Tom. In each he is a piper’s son, but one presents him as a thief, and the other as a musician.

Tom, Tom, the piper’s son,
Stole a pig and away did run,
The pig was eat, and Tom was beat
And Tom went crying down the street.

The pig in question was not a hefty mammal, but a type of apple-filled pastry, maybe like an apple turnover.

The origins of the ‘thief’ version are unknown, but it was first printed about 1795 in London.

The longer version, touting Musical Tom, was printed at the same time as the shorter verse. It was adapted from a popular rhyme from the late 17th century, as a recruitment song to encourage volunteers to join military campaigns in the early 18^th century (1705)

Tom’s skill was such that everyone enjoyed his music.

Tom, he was a piper’s son,
He learnt to play when he was young,
And all the tune that he could play
Was o’er the hills and far away.
Over the hills and a great way off,
The wind shall blow my top-knot off.

Tom with his pipe made such a noise,
That he pleased both the girls and boys,
They all stopped to hear him play,
‘Over the hills and far away.’

Some found themselves forced to dance.

Tom with his pipe did play with such skill
That those who heard him could never keep still;
As soon as he played they began for to dance,
Even the pigs on their hind legs would after him prance.

Tom’s music entranced Dolly, a milkmaid.

As Dolly was milking her cow one day,
Tom took his pipe and began to play;
So Dolly and the cow danced ‘The Cheshire Round’
Till the pail was broken and the milk ran on the ground.

The Cheshire Round (or Rounds) was a country dance and a prime feature of social gatherings in 17^th century England,

 Following that, Tom’s enthusiasm led him on to further capers.

He met old Dame Trot with a basket of eggs,
He used his pipe and she used her legs;
She danced about till the eggs were all broke.
She began for to fret, but he laughed at the joke.

Finally, he used his piping talent for a good cause.

Tom saw a cross fellow was beating an ass,
Heavy laden with pots, pans, dishes, and glass;
He took out his pipe and he played them a tune.
And the poor donkey’s load was lightened full soon.

Magic carpet

 

Magic carpet

. . . or Flying Bedstead?

I was awake early, after a poor night’s sleep, otherwise I might have been startled into consciousness by an announcement from Tom Tom, courtesy of Barry’s iPhone.

‘Traffic is getting worse.

You are still on the fastest route.

You will arrive at 6:41.’

Then, half an hour later, came another announcement:

‘Traffic is getting worse.

You are still on the fastest route.

You will arrive at 8:10.’

I have no idea where we were headed, or why. Tom Tom had been playing up the previous day and not receiving traffic news. A factory reset solved the problem, but why it chose the small hours to prove itself is anyone’s guess.