Wind and vegetables; a link?

Wild West Wednesday they were calling it and it did not disappoint. Trees down, flooded roads, fields that were lakes and will be for months, and the wind. Best not talk about the wild wind.

You see on a 5:2 diet day, just about all you can eat is vegetables, and I don’t know about you but for me that creates wind of the most unpleasant type. A fresh spring breeze it is not. 600 calories can be taken in 4 decent glasses of a good Bordeaux, 4 pints of beer or, get this, 5 tablespoons of olive oil, so the only thing you can eat in bulk are vegetables. If you are an olive oil freak and cannot do without it, avoid this diet.

That Nice Lady Decorator has become particularly adept at finding interesting ways of serving a main meal using little more than swedes, carrots and broccoli, and very tasty these can be as well, but the fact is they are predominantly vegetables and with my constitution that makes me, quite reasonably, a pariah when it comes to close social contact. Actually, come to think if it, it does not eve have to be close.

A couple of birds together on the bridge at Arundel

There was another decent crop of limericks in yesterday’s column, and long may it be so. My coterie of followers are diligent in contributing original limericks based on the contents of this daily missive, and that does tempt me to write about certain things in a way that I hope and know will tickle their fancy (that is a typical turn of phrase which I expect will be seized upon), and so leads me into new areas. The most vibrant of these in the last week have revolved around cricket boxes, and although some of my regular contributors did not have the balls to publish, many grabbed the chance with both hands.

Today, assuming there still exists a functioning railway to London, I have important Currencies Direct business to attend to. A major corporation in the West End has called me into advise them on how best to deal with their foreign payments and receipts, and after sealing that deal, I shall be off to lunch in Covent Garden with my northern Jewish lawyer Al Yiddley (not his real name, and I cannot reveal what it is as he is a partner at respected law firm Davenport Lyons), who has invited me, probably at my expense, to join him for their Publishers Lunch. It is an excuse for all us crusty music publishers (yes, I still maintain a foothold in the music industry) to chew the cud of the music publishing world and at the same time eat and drink, nominally at my lawyers expense, until I get the bill, where I shall be looking closely any disbursements. There will also be an address by Hugh Tomlinson QC, about the new privacy laws which will be amusing and informative (I have been told).

So I shall be a London commuter for a day, (leaving directly after lunch of course, and am not looking forward to the travel. I am told that there is no longer the opportunity to take breakfast or afternoon tea and scones in the First Class compartment, and that in fact trains nowadays are predominantly comprised of Second Class carriages, a truly ghastly prospect. The last time one was a regular commuter one would usually battle through the smoke and steam from the engine to go to the front of the train to the driver and thank him for the journey.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News