Willow wilson

I think we'll have the Coopers. Can you deliver it. Ta.

We've run out of horseradish sauce.

Rose and Thistle.

Long shot. I can remember seeing a butcher's shop from my bus journeys from Bobbers mill across town years ago. The name was Rideout. Was it the one on Alfreton Rd? Edited.

I worked in Syd Smith's machine shop at the top of Rye St in 1961

Can't keep good dancers down. Some good improv at the end of the clip.

Here's a young band carrying on the rockabilly style of the 50s. And the same guitarist doing a turn on the drums:- Surfin Safaris cover. I really do like some rhythm in me music, even at my age.

Or specific gravity, praps.

This house is watching the BBC Christmas Lecture series. The series so far this year has covered Covid, Sars, flu, epidemiology, t-cells, the development of vaccines and how these work on viruses. Superbly illustrated with models and practical demonstrations as usual. Very enlightening.

Man acquires top end reel; check. Cats run off with fly fishing line; check. Club Committee member scent-marks shrubbery; check. Unknown piscatorial creature nicks expensive tackle; check. There's more to this fishin' thing than you'd think.

Tight lines, PP.

I never got to the L Shaped Room even though it was local to my usual haunts. I just now searched it on here and the result is an aladins cave of engaging threads and posts. The city was a really 'fab' place in those days by all accounts regarding the club and speciality music scene.

Causerie became our clique's preferred venue for a time. Those were the days, we also would while away the hours. Chatting about important nothings. Causerie seemed ideal for daytime get togethers. But then, in later days we ventured on our separate ways. No matter where my memory chases, I forget their names but see their faces.

Le Causery, Phil. I think that's the spelling of it.

A reminder of past carefree days on me holidays. Weymouth band in the park. Maybe again next year! Ps. I'm not dancing on this one

The Tams again. This looks like an early version on northern soul. With strict dress code. Very stylish.

First time I saw a coloured television working was in 1968 at a commercial demonstration of the first trans Atlantic colour transmissions, via satellite I think.

Or as Hans Christian Andersen would say- When words fail, music speaks.

My non involvement experiences with diesels. I once saw a 17.5 ton with the cab tilted forward and a mechanic standing inside the chassis. He was busy working on the injector pumps. Airlock? Water? I don't know but the wagon was stuck half way across Parliament St. so no pressure on him. A few weeks ago I passed a car on a motorway hard shoulder and it was spewing white exhaust smoke out all across the road from, i guess, a runaway diesel. Not sure how you deal with one of those if it's getting combustible fuel from somewhere. Light smoke; sump oil?

A Romantic interlude in this hectic world.

This was quite popular in its day. We used to to sing it fortissimo in school playground along with Vaughan's 'Green Door'.

I learned to drive in those old Regents. Not in the cab but as a kid with me mam in the lower saloon on me tiptoes looking into the driver's cab window and watching what he did with the controls and noting the movements of the bus. I loved that huge steering wheel and how smooth the bus responded, turning this way then that way. And that pre-shift on top of its pedestal. Fascinated by the huge handbrake with its ratchet release lever. Waiting in the bus on Hanley Street on a dusky evening, the driver stows the safety chock, climbs in and when he'd sat down switches all the lights on, but

Tried that link Oztalgian. It brings up some real nostalgia. And in order too.

'77, memory of college in Staffs. Cool song. Electric piano, niiiiiice!