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One of my neighbours has his young granddaughter stay with him quite frequently. They are obviously very, very fond of each other. I saw them today and asked her

“Do you like your Grandpa?”

“Yes he’s very nice. But some of his hair and some of his teeth are gone, a bit like a baby. But I still like cuddling him.”

I looked at him and he at me and we smiled.

It reminds me of my eldest son who as an infant made the following pronouncement in our local shop:

“My mum’s bottom’s too big!”

There’s a great story to follow and my ex wife – who had a similar build to Jerry Hall – and was very toned at the time - was not amused. Didn’t stop the shop owner and me falling about laughing when he told it to me. Didn’t stop her accusing me of sewing the seeds of the infantile thoughts either. I was innocent Guv.

Kids say such funny things. I bet I’m not the only one to have been ‘dropped in it’ by an innocent remark either.

What a morning. Started off outside early in the cold working on my banger. Then the phone started ringing. The agency I was working for think that they have more work for me – with the client I was working at in South London – based on what I’d already done and the report I submitted. They agree with my findings and are trying to find some budget so that I can take it through. Good or what? They also have some potential work for me in Bristol. Bristol? That’s miles away! And I will probably be able to do both together. It beats the prospect of working in factories into a cocked hat and is CV building stuff too. So fingers crossed.

Meanwhile…. back at the ranch... I applied for work with a consultancy 25 miles away and they called to say they like my CV. Well the MD did, asked me a few questions and that was it.

So much finger crossing and a hope to enter the New Year out of the financial poo.

Does anyone know where the superstition for finger crossing comes from? I don’t and as I’ve just done it, maybe I should.

I love Kingfishers. They are I think our most beautiful native bird, small, very good at what they do and the most glorious colours - that mix of aquamarine and vibrant orange is something to behold. I love seeing them either in focused poise as they hunt or as a flash of brilliance in flight.

Living on the water I have been lucky to see loads. In Stratford on Avon one used to hunt in the moorings nearly every morning. Where I am now there were at one time 6 pairs nesting on a nearby island. I have in the past gone to my galley in the morning to see one perched on a post less than 2 feet away. Though I have yet to get my desired photograph of one - they are cautious and aware.

During the last year I have seen few and none close up. But this morning as I sat and typed I looked up and there was one on the pulpit of the boat opposite. I was mesmerized until she darted in a swift sleek dive into the water, took her fish and flew away.

It is a privilege to see such beauty - I hope they've returned to stay.

I am not in the Depp, Brosnam, Craig, Clooney, Crowe etc mould. Heart throb looks have I not. But that's OK, must be very tiresome, - women prostrating themselves before you and tripping over the dozens of thongs and gurt big drawers thrown at ones feet.

The phenomena isn't new. Franz Liszt was stunningly good looking when young and had a black carriage pulled by plumed white horses. Women used to swoon at the sight of it (years later he had a gurt big wart on his fizzog - ha).

I am happy to be ordinary looking me - with no dashing carriage. But I do wonder at the 'Ratings' thing on here. I think people vote as much by what they read as what they see. So being one of the regular diarists on here may have its drawbacks.

"Ewww - look at what he wrote there Shirl"

"Yeah I know Em. Bloke's a tosser - lets go vote him a 2"

I think it happens and it doesn't bother me. Some lovely lovely women have seen fit to talk to me and that's good - innit?

So when I see someone with a face that looks like its been pulverized by the ugly stick, been in bar room fights, lost the lot, then rebuilt on the cheap by some dodgy East European short-sighted trainee plastic surgeon using Playdough, do I vote it a 1? Nope. I hit the refresh button and move on. One man's vision of 'Mother in Law joke ugly' is another's 'Fallen Madonna with the big boobies' beautiful. We all have our own tastes and life is too short for that sort of meanness. And real beauty radiates from within. A stunning but scowling face may not have the attraction of someone plain but serene.

Did I write that? I am a bloke and reserve the right to be a bit facile.

SOCIALISM
You have 2 cows.
You give one to your neighbour.

COMMUNISM
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and gives you some milk.

FASCISM
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and sells you some milk.

NAZISM
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and shoots you.

BUREAUCRATISM
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both, shoots one, milks the other, and then throws the
milk away…

TRADITIONAL CAPITALISM
You have two cows.
You sell one and buy a bull.
Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows.
You sell them and retire on the income.

SURREALISM
You have two giraffes.
The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.

AN AMERICAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows.
Later, you hire a consultant to analyse why the cow has dropped dead.

ENRON VENTURE CAPITALISM
You have two cows.
You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of
credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a
debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so that you get all
four cows back, with a tax exemption for five cows.
The milk rights of the six cows are transferred via an intermediary to a
Cayman Island Company secretly owned by the majority shareholder who
sells the rights to all seven cows back to your listed company.
The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on
one more.
You sell one cow to buy a new president of the United States, leaving
you with nine cows.
No balance sheet provided with the release.
The public then buys your bull.

THE ANDERSEN MODEL
You have two cows.
You shred them.

A FRENCH CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You go on strike, organise a riot, and block the roads, because you want
three cows.

A JAPANESE CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and
produce twenty times the milk.
You then create a clever cow cartoon image called ‘Cowkimon’ and market
it worldwide.

A GERMAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You re-engineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and
milk themselves.

AN ITALIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows, but you don’t know where they are.
You decide to have lunch.

A RUSSIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
You count them again and learn you have 2 cows.
You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.

A SWISS CORPORATION
You have 5000 cows. None of them belong to you.
You charge the owners for storing them.

AN INDIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You worship them.

A BRITISH CORPORATION
You have two cows.
Both are mad.

A NEW ZEALAND CORPORATION
You have two cows.
The one on the left looks very attractive.

AN AUSTRALIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
Business seems pretty good.
You close the office and go for a few beers to celebrate.

AN IRAQI CORPORATION
Everyone thinks you have lots of cows.
You tell them that you have none.
No-one believes you, so they bomb the **** out of you and invade your
country.
You still have no cows, but at least now you are allegedly part of a Democracy…

THE POLISH GOVERNMENT
You have two cows.
You lecture one on how turning gay will mean the end of cattle.
The other cow emigrates.

A CHINESE CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You have 300 people milking them.
You claim that you have full employment, and high bovine productivity.
You arrest the newsman who reported the real situation.

2008 COW OWNERSHIP

In 2007 you had 2 cows worth £700 each. Your bank manager persuaded you to float on the Stock Exchange which at one point valued your herd at £10,000. The bank took out insurance through the back door with another bank - just in case you weren't worth £10,000 and sold this policy to another bank for £15,000 which sold it to another bank for £20,000 which added it to its assets sheet. The financial markets collapsed. The bank manager was persuaded to retire with a measly £500,000 p.a. pension. Your cows are doing very well, milk yields are at their highest and you are selling everything you produce. The Stock Exchange values your cows at £1 and the bank is trying to repossess your house.