The trophy is now safely ensconced upon our mantel.

I'm the man. . .again!

On Monday, I won the first annual Central URC Open played at the demanding Farrington Golf Club. I especially encourage you to look at the scorecard except for holes 11, 12 and 13 when my torn cruciate ligament and two stress fractures were giving me problems. As soon as we returned to level ground and I was able to recover from the excruciating pain, I ran off a string of 5 straight fours to finish my impressive and totally dominating win. Please double click on the card to see my impressive scoring, please double click on the trophy to get some idea of its actual mammoth size.

Signs of 'The Times'

From today's Times of London. I present these humourous signs without additional comment.

Cosmo (on Queen's Square)

Milsom Street Pig (Of course, being a child of the sixties I could say this picture contains two pigs, but I have the utmost respect for our Constables On Patrol.)

Bubbles (in front of the Bath Spa, of course!)

Paradise (pig hanging from the giant tree in Abbey Green)

Roger (next to one of the few remaining hexagonal pillar boxes in the UK)

Happy (in front of Holburn Art Museum)

Rattus Rattus (not a pig)

In search of Bladud's pigs. . .

During the spring and summer, brightly painted pigs are appearing all over Bath. This is to celebrate the legend of Bladud, who was a Celtic King whose leprosy was cured in the healing warm springs that made Bath famous and make it such a tourist attraction today. I went out to photograph a sampling of the pigs that are now appearing all over the city. Most have names and I have included them for your edification.

Rory at 6 months. . .

The vivacious Rory celebrates her half year birthday.

Happy Birthday, Your Majesty!

A few photographs from today's annual Trooping of the Colours in honour of the Queen's "official" birthday. She was actually born on April 21st. The parade took place on 'Horse Guards Parade' which I along with the William's gang visited just two weeks ago. The grandstands were already in place when we were in London.

The original Diane Arbus photograph
Abby's impression of the Arbus photograph
The truth is in the photographs

On my daughter Abby's blog she states that the horrific face she is making in the photo immediately above was one that she had seen me make on several occasions. This false perception was confirmed by my step-daughter Jessica and Abby's mother, Sheri. For the record I wish to state that I have never made such a grotesque face and doubt if it is even possible.

But, I do think that I have found out how this perception became seeming reality. I am a great fan of the late photographer Diane Arbus (pronounced, Deeyan) Diane was at one time married to Alan Arbus, who played psychiatrist Sidney Freidman on the television series, MASH. I have at various times owned books of Diane Arbus' photographs. I think the three women in question probably saw these books and were drawn to Arbus' famous photograph of a young boy in Central Park. The similarities between his expression and Abby's are beyond coincidence. I rest my case.

For more of Abby's delusions please see her blog at http://ouranimalhouse.blogspot.com.

A taste treat fit for a King (or Queen)

The thawing of US/British relations. . .

As I sit down to write this entry, President Bush is in the midst of his farewell tour to Europe. In a few days he will arrive in Britain to say his final goodbye. Needless to say, the last seven years have caused considerable strain between Britain and 'the colonies.'

When the Williams clan came to visit Maurene and I they brought two 'must have' items with them. Marshmallow Fluff is a staple of the Ron Garner diet and can only be obtained at exorbitant prices in the United Kingdom. Whilst they were here, I introduced them to the joys of addictive McVities Digestives. Upon their departure, I began experimenting by spreading Marshmallow Fluff on the individual biscuits and then topping this all off with a second biscuit. This made for a McVitie/Fluff sandwich. The taste is indescribable but can best be captured by simply calling it a gourmet s'more -that wonderful treat that is often created over the great American campfire.

I have determined that if the makers of Marshmallow Fluff and McVities Digestives would combine their efforts, that the strain of the last seven years would quickly be diminished.

We still haven't found a useful combination for Maurene's Strawberry Twizzlers.

Happy birthday to my beautiful daughter!

I hope you have a happy birthday. Wish I could be there to celebrate with you.

Happy Birthday, Abby!

I miss you! We'll always have London.

Love,

Brad

A new take on the Revolutionary War

John O'Farrell is one of my favourite columnists in the Guardian. In his latest book, An Utterly Impartial History of Britain, his biting humour is displayed in the description of the Revolutionary War from a British standpoint.

The first War on Terror lasted from 1775 to 1781. In the American colonies, local insurgents, hell bent on causing anarchy and destruction, began their cowardly attacks on the British peace-keeping forces. As the assassinations and bombings escalated, there were calls for the British government to withdraw the security forces, but despite being thousands of miles from home, the British army bravely refused to cut and run, trying instead to maintain the fragile peace so desperately desired by the vast majority of the peace-loving colonial settlers. In the warped mind of the extremists, they might have imagined themselves to be fighting some sort of 'heroic war of independence', but by any of the standards applied in the West today, the actions of the extremist militias was terrorism, pure and simple.

Ouch!