Brew

Heh, having weird dreams has never been a problem..

It's Bulwell so you won't have to worry about them for long.....

No Chulla, never liked the stuff but that's OK - it doesn't like me.

Not a lot to understand really, if you don't like the taste then you don't like the taste. I have tried foreign food (all kinds) and simply don't like herbs, spices and cheese etc. I had a meze in Greece once. It was the foulest thing I have ever willingly put in my mouth, some sort of spicy mince wrapped in a privet leaf, disgusting! I have a Hindu mate who made me a 'mild' curry - felt like it was taking the enamel off my teeth. The list goes on so I do speak from experience and I'm not rejecting stuff just 'cos it's forrin innit.

I think you may be confusing the house with one further in the village at the crossroads. It use to have a very old sign on the wall saying Kings Head.

Living on budget? I started out wi' 'nowt and I've still got most of it left...

Heh, bin there dun that - and got the belting for coming home soaked to the skin and usually minus a shoe..

Have you seen the cost of those things! It's conspicuous consumption for the benefit of people with more money than sense! It says look at me, how urbane I am, how so very trendy I am. They usually sit there running up a large 'leccy bill and I suspect are rarely used after the novelty has worn off.

Never understood the concept of BBQs plantit. We have thousands of pounds worth of state of the art kitchens but are apparently quite happy to throw meat on a smoky, ash laden grill and leave it to be attended to by a bloke who is proud of his culinary skills but actually has no idea how to cook. The end product is usually burnt on the outside and raw on the inside and smothered in sauce to disguise the fact if you gave the steak a slap it would get up and moo!

Spaghetti Bolognese is by definition, forrin and can't be thrown far enough.

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I'd love to have carbolic soap again but it's sale is banned in the E.U.

My tastes have stayed boringly utilitarian (she says). Meals drive 'her in doors' barmy. Give me mash or roast taters, peas, carrots and any meat except veal or offal and I'm a happy bunny. Curry is the food of the devil. Cheese of any kind makes feel ill. I'm not lactose intolerant but the taste and especially the texture in my mouth is.. blechh. I don't put vinegar on chips and only use brown sauce on a bacon cob if the bacon is (as it usually is) pretty much tasteless. I've not drunk beer since the breathalyser came out and I've never liked wine or spirits. Might be a bit of a porky pie in

Jill Sparrow! how so very dare you! Moi, playing tricks on girls? Moi with the blonde cherubic looks and butter wouldn't melt? No miss it weren't me 'onest.

At my first school we had a small blackboard and chalk. Later we had dip pens and there were two nib types. A pointed one producing very thin lines that scratched and dug into the paper. A 'square' tip that made thick/thin lines depending how you used it. I preferred the square type for writing and the pointed one for throwing and sticking in the ceiling tiles. And I was an ink monitor so there!

I also remember the teachers giving some kids a hard time because they were left handed and tried to make then use their right.

Do we need it? Most certainly not. Will we get it? yes. Will it be on time and in budget? Most certainly not. Billions to go London - Leeds forty minutes less than present day trains. A bargain I say. As an aside I recently needed to go to Falkirk on business. By train £147 ONE way and five hours. From East Midlands airport to Edinburgh £59 and ninety minutes. But I'm sure the our version of a bullet train will sort that out and make it cheaper and faster and ooo look we're overtaking that flying pig...

I remember that. When I mention it to friends no one has ever never heard of it, I was beginning to think I'd dreamt it. We had to change from a slight 'italic' style with loops etc to the Marion Richardson style which was straight up and down and no loops.

The house is still there and I often wonder if the secret room was ever opened. Someone said that due to it being listed it had to stay as it was. Picture upload failed but here's a link to Dropbox and clearly shows where the window for the room should be (covered in ivy). I slept in the dormer room on the left. https://www.dropbox.com/s/2flv9vok380kspx/house.jpg?dl=0

Let me state quite clearly that I do not believe in ghosts... but I met my wife to be in the early '60s, she lived at that time in Bulcote in what was once a coaching inn built late 16 early 17 hundreds.It's grade 2 listed.The house is large with 7 or 8 bedrooms, a small library type sitting room, a main lounge with an inglenook fireplace that has direct access to the street. At some point in its history the archway that led to the stable block was bricked up and became the dining room, also with an inglenook large enough to stand in. Up a narrow staircase and turn left led to

I lived on the A614 in the '60s in a house just after the railway bridge. The MD of Barton buses lived next door. The only thing I remember of the military camp near Ollerton are the 'Beware Tank Crossing' signs. I always assumed it was some sort of tank training ground. It was whilst living there that I first fired a shotgun. The guy at the farm next door asked if I'd like to go 'rabbiting' . Six guys met outside my house and I was given a shotgun and told to be quiet as we crept across the road and stealthily peered over the hedge. Lo and behold there was a rabbit. So, more creeping unt

I don't know why but a phrase that really grates on me is: 'Let's go to yours' or 'you coming to mine'?

To be fair he said to everyone who only managed to get as far as the second declension and then mangled the rest.

My latin tutor had a phrase he muttered: stultus est sicut stultus facit - every time I wrongly conjugated verbs. I'm not certain he didn't mean it. The language tutors were like comic book stereotypes. Latin, about 300 years old white haired. German, square jawed iron grey almost crewcut hair. Doc Chapman, French - blue/black wavy hair five o'clock shadow always on the scrounge for a Woodbine.

Just found this forum about GEM. As a callow youth in addition to my day job I worked part time for a firm on Cliff Rd who supplied cleaning staff to the store. It was my job to drive the Commer mini-bus, collect and deliver the ladies to the store then take them back to Clifton. I drove the floor polishing machine. The store manager was an American, not very tall and a little portly. He also had very sticky out ears. I can't remember his name but the ladies all called him Mickey Mouse. If we were a team member short one of the cleaners would bring her daughter as a replacement.