Yesterday evening on our caravan holiday, despite the mediocre weather, it was decided to have a barbecue for the evening meal. Table was set up under the awning and the barbeque duly lighted and a glass of wine enjoyed whilst the embers glowed. The fan heater was set up and background music played. The offerings from the barbecue were then enjoyed followed by a nice piece of blackcurrant pie.

All the while wandering around was the useless member of the establishment, the one with four legs and no brain. Finally Junior Management, trying to curry favour, went and fetched a sausage to be cooked for the useless one. When nicely cooked it was placed on the ground for the cat. He pushed it around a bit and then, for whatever reason placed the end of his nose firmly on the sausage which was obviously still quite hot. The result was quite dramatic. The cat leapt several feet in the air and then raced at an amazing speed into the far distance. He finally reappeared at which point Junior Management gently rolled the now cold sausage towards him. He took one look at it and promptly fled again, never to reappear, leaving the sausage in command of the field of battle. Me, I merely poured the last few drops from the bottle into my glass.

Turning to the potato, with or without the extra e, as mentioned by one reader in his comment on the last post I should perhaps clarify the incident. It was indeed one of America’s finest Vice Presidential candidates who tried to bring in this novel spelling of the humble potato. However it was not the gallant Spiro, but in fact Dan Quayle, another for whom the back of a postage stamp would be too big to list his achievements on. Even more worryingly gallant Dan went on to be elected Vice President to George Bush Senior. He managed to serve his four years without anyone noticing that he was there, but going for a second term he and George went down to the Clinton Mafia. Was that an improvement? I leave it to your decision.