Gourd of the Manor

October 23, 2019 5:20pm Published by Jules Smith in Whimsy On A Wednesday 21 Comments

Gourd squash shaped like a bird

Satirical Snapshots Bringing You Whimsy On A Wednesday!

So, I got a new pet.

His name is Gourd.

I always wanted a bird.  One of those really naughty ones that shout at people and throw things around.

Instead, I got a puppet.

But now I have Gourd.  Because someone thought this would amuse me.  They were right.

Gourd is very easy to look after: No walks, no maintenance, no feeding, walking or fussing. Unlike my other pets who are incredibly needy. Not Gourd.  You can take him anywhere without an ounce of trouble.

Unfortunately, he only has a life -span of about 6 months. That may seem harsh but it stops you getting attached.

You can stick him outside come rain or shine and he will not destroy your garden.

He will sit quietly until you fetch him inside.

He adds interest at dinner parties…

He makes friends easily…

After some persistence…

He even managed to sneak up on a sleeping wolfit…

And a Jack Russell Terrorist…

He even made friends with my outdoor pet crow (also maintenance-free)  I purchased the crow in order to attract a group of them to swarm over my house for Halloween.  I also got an app on my phone that calls them.  When you say this out loud it makes me sound weird. Huh.

But not Kevin. Kevin hates him.

I love Kevin.



The Daily Grind

October 9, 2019 11:28am Published by Jules Smith in Whimsy On A Wednesday 29 Comments

Satirical Snapshots Bringing You Whimsy On A Wednesday!

I have often said that coffee is not just a drink but an occasion. As a Brit Chick my natural go-to is a nice cup of tea and a sit down but coffee has made its impact as a staple part in my breakfasting and morning mental health. When in America I opt for a bucket of cold, creamy coffee because it suits the Texan heat, whilst in good old Blighty I’m more prone to a simple flat white or an extravaganza with a floating mini gingerbread man. Like I said, coffee is a party. 

Being a naturally caffeinated person I max out on three coffees before becoming unhinged so choosing my favourites is key. Nobody wants to be disappointed by the hot stuff. 

Out in the dirt

view over English country land.


Everyday I saunter off out for an hour or so with the wolfit to a local country park. Or should I call it perk? Because situated near the entrance is a little cafe serving coffee.  Not just any old brew, I might add, but a coffee with a fast growing reputation for being a superior sepia supper.  It’s called 200 degrees.  Apparently, they roast their coffee at a lower temperature to make it smoother and tastier. Naturally, it would have been rude for me not to try. 


disposable coffee cup


And I have been trying it every morning for the last few weeks with rather pleasing results. After meandering through the fields I buy myself a 200 degrees flat white and park myself on a picnic bench overlooking the view.  The coffee is good, the wolfit lies down at my feet and I have time to assemble the ramblings of my mind and return to my desk with vigour and focus. 

Bean Thinking

One of the most wonderful things about this particular coffee are the 100% compostable cups in which it is served.  On the back of the cup is written a Coffee Blog from 1642.  


story on the back of a coffee cup


After reading this I understood why I felt so sprightly, what with all its wondrous benefits, but what I wanted to know most of all is what the blooming heck is Kings Evil?

Basically, if you get touched up by a King you’ll be OK. 

El Tomato

October 2, 2019 12:02am Published by Jules Smith in Whimsy On A Wednesday 10 Comments

Satirical Snapshots Bringing You Whimsy On A Wednesday!

Welcome to cooking with Jules!  

Cooking what? Meth? What with me now living in Villainous Village you might be thinking there’s a bit of Breaking Bad going on in the neighbourhood. 

Talking of mobile miscreants…

Here’s the thing about living in the ghetto – you have to be on high alert at all times. So, when you are woken by texts just before dawn you pick up your phone.  There might be a raid going on.

Because I am now residing in Corruption County, people come to me for advice from far and wide. 

Mein Gott!

Bloody hell!

Talking of bloody – and Hell…

I went downstairs to prepare a nice, hot cup of tea. As I waited for the kettle to boil and watched the birds flocking around the feeder I noticed that something was bleeding to death in the neighbours yard and seeping onto my patio.


Did someone not pay the Patron? See, this is the sort of ‘goings on’ you can expect nowadays, when you live in the middle of it all.  

 I stood and watched the river of red as it crept menacingly across the slabs.  I then turned around and looked for the dog incase its head was missing. 

This neighbour is a salubrious garden centre – well, so they say. More likely it’s a money laundering operation for the street scoundrels.  What a perfect place to dump a body, underneath all the winter bedding pants…

I called them and made them aware that something was bleeding into my garden.  There was a long pause, some muffled voices and then they said they’d get back to me and hung up.  I got my BB gun ready – it wouldn’t be long before the head honcho knew I was onto him. 

They called me back sometime later with the flimsy excuse that it was red paint that had been washed down a pipe that had broken.  I’m not buying that, are you? 

Don’t buy tomatoes from there. They’re only large and juicy because of the compost they’re using, if you get my drift.

Talking of tomatoes…

It’s great when you have friends that have their own allotment because they give you lots of fresh grown produce for nothing.  This helps a lot as going shopping in the ghetto means leaving your abode unattended and your knicker drawer free for rifling. 

This week I got a harvest of tomatoes, red and green.  I decided to make some fresh tomato soup.  A great big pan of it.  I worked on the premise that it’s not good to bite the hand that feeds you so becoming the soup kitchen of the area might elevate my status. 

Look at these juicy plump fruits! ( not a thing to say in the local pub)

They got a roasting.

Added to my magical pan…

And made into beautiful harvest soup that I have laced with tranquillisers  will give out graciously to any visitors. 

Happy Harvest!

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