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Woolley Jumpers anyone?

September 27, 2010

Now I don’t quite know what drives the viewing figures for this blog, but mentions of sheep seem to have an inordinately positive impact, so I felt duty bound to print a snapshot of a website found recently in New Zealand. I would like to say that it was sent to me by well-known (in this column) sheep fancier Steve Weston, but it wasn’t, and I think it would be wrong of me to reveal that it was Adrian Burgering who did, so I won’t, but his continued anonymity cannot be guaranteed, unless he seeks immediate help. Actually, in this context, that surname becomes a mite doubtful..

Find your perfect baartner

Personally if ones find solace in sheep, that is matter for them, and if that is the case then a logical extension of that theme would seem to be the existence of social networking sites dedicated to that particular strand of “entertainment”.  I am sure that golfing buddy Steve Weston, himself a confirmed sheep lover will find this internet development very rewarding.
And talking of social networking sites, Later this week on Thursday the Riviera Business Club are running an event in Villefranche Sur Mer to explain the benefits of using Facebook, which I shall attend in my capacity as a Regional Coordinator (as opposed to Fat Controller as was unkindly suggested by one of my fellow delegates whilst attending the France Show at Olympia last week)  for Currencies Direct. The expert making the presentation organises pages for many stars such as Wayne Rooney and Dolly The Sheep, sorry Dolly was just a tease for my sheep fetish followers.
Sinday (yes without spellcheck it comes up as Sinday) seems to me to be an opportunity to sin by drinking rose and enjoy an afternoon of sunshine beside the pool, and so it came to pass. I had considered the possibility of playing golf, but somehow it did not seem the right course of action, better I thought to have a few drinks by the pool and take time to consider the political landscape back in the UK. Anyway, I fell asleep, about 30 seconds after the start of the consideration, and frankly have not yet reached a conclusion.
The week will begin quietly until Wednesday when Mark Gurdon aka Mr Surrey will arrive with his clipboard of events and a tight agenda (no Steve, no double entendres implied here)  and will seek to regiment the lives of anyone with whom he comes into contact. Thus the wingco and I will be getting a short back and sides, polishing our boots and buttons  and be ready for a kit inspection ahead of tennis and golf and, I hope, lunch at the Auberge St Donat as is customary on these occasions, when Mr Surrey will at last here what is left of his hair down.
19 years of blissful marriage will be celebrated this week, blissful for that nice lady decorator anyway,  and to think you do less time for murder. Of course I jest, as she has begun to have occasional sneak looks at this column to see what I am saying about her, especially if she is alerted to something by one of my 5th columnist “friends”

Chris France

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