Think pink!

We bade a fond farewell to our friend on Saturday. After a fun week packed with meeting people, going places - and far too much food - she sadly had to return to Greece.

After breakfast, we piled into the car and set off up to Heathrow airport. Remembering the pig's ear that was the previous week's journey, we made damn sure we left plenty of time to get there. Just as well, because the M25 once again slowed to a crawl; rather than being way too early, we were pretty much bang on time. But that's by the by.

On the way up, I was concentrating on driving - although we did have some music going, a rather eclectic mix disc of mp3s I had thrown together. Between the two, I missed the occasional detail - especially if they were in a blind spot on the other side of the car. So when Julie came out with this particular Gem, to say I was speechless is something of an understatement.

Wait, what?
Our friend was too busy laughing to be of much help, and Julie was pointing in the direction of one of those blind spots. Eventually, I managed to reason she had been referring to an ornament on the top of another car's radio antenna.

Cute, eh?
Except it's not pink. It took me a little searching, but I eventually worked out that the ornament in question was in the style of Piglet from the Disney version of Winnie the Pooh.

You have no idea how relieved I am to know what it was...

Parking in a flash.

A couple of days ago, our guest had a little surprise; I had arranged a meeting with some mutual friends. Under the pretense of visiting a garden centre, me and our guest drove across Kent, avoiding various nutters on the way. We arrived a little earlier than our friends, so I gently steered my companion around the garden centre, coincidentally managing to keep a discreet eye on the entrance.

When our friends arrived, I casually pointed to various plants that just happened to be located in a different direction than the entrance - so a little light sneaking could be achieved.

The eventual encounter was all I could hope for and more, although my companion was quiet for a moment before turning to me and simply saying, "you're a bad man." She was grinning as she said it, though.

We had a drink and a small bite to eat at the garden centre's cafe. Although they would rather it was called a 'bistro', which should tell you about the food - and the prices.

After a rest and a natter, we decided it was time to move on. When the question of a location was raised, there was a sudden flurry of smartphones as people tapped and swiped away furiously. After some discussion, it was agreed that we would go to Shorne Wood Country Park - our friends would lead and me and our guest would follow.

A great visitor centre!

Upon our arrival, we had a small search for a parking spot. My companion, who is not a native to this country, saw a number of signs referring to the parking facilities, all with a stern, clear instruction to 'Pay and display'.

Something about me must be catching, because my friend started laughing like a drain. When I managed to ask what she had found funny, she pointed to one of the signs and said;

I looked at the hordes of children running around and politely declined the offer.

Fairways and motorways

Also known as autobahns in Germany and freeways in the USA, motorways are technically supposed to be a means of bypassing all those nasty things that slow traffic down, like towns and winding country lanes. In a sense, they have worked brilliantly, because those towns and country lanes are a lot easier to drive around now. However, that's only because all the traffic is now to be found - gridlocked - on these multi-lane car parks.

Do I sound bitter? Oh, I'm sorry.

Yes I have a reason. You see, we have a guest this week, a very good friend who has managed to escape from her homeland of Greece for a few days. The only things is, we live on the south coast of England, and our friend was due to arrive in Heathrow airport. This meant driving, on a Saturday early in the school holiday season, on the infamous M25 - AKA the London Orbital. It's infamous for having many delays and has in fact been portrayed as having demonic origins by messrs. Pratchett and Gaiman in the excellently witty novel, 'Good Omens'.

The original cover of the novel
featured an eerie, glowing version
of the M25.

Whatever the origins, the London Orbital was definitely living up to its reputation on Saturday. For about thirty miles, we alternated between crawling and complete halt. When we reached a service station, we gave in and decided to have lunch - only to find that the service's car park was about as gridlocked as the motorway we had just left. Going in AND leaving.

After we finally managed to leave the services and crawl our way to the airport, we had another problem - how on earth could we pick someone up without using a car park?
Answer: we couldn't.

Despite us timing our arrival perfectly with our friend's ejection from security and customs, we wound up going through two car parks and getting lost on the way. In the end, what should have been a joyful meeting was instead a hurried "Oh hello, come on, let's get going." I'd had enough of the bloody roads.
With that in mind, I went along with julie's suggestion that we avoid the M25 and head off a different route. Since she had the map, I agreed and let her chart the course.

Whoops.

Julie readily agrees that map-reading is not her forte, so she can hardly be blamed for us going around roads, hitting the same roundabout twice from different directions - and leaving it from two other different exits - and crossing the M25 two or three times.

I have no idea what our guest in the back of the car thought as we bickered our random way across the western outskirts of London, but it's possible she had some misgivings...
Eventually, more by luck than judgement, we found our way onto the M3. Feeling a very certain need, I suggested - in no uncertain terms - that we stop at the next motorway services for a trip to the loo and a nice, hot cup of tea.

Fleet Services (circled), as portrayed in our road atlas.

'...and relax...'

You may be asking, at this point, why on earth we don't have a satnav. Well, I'll give you two good reasons. Firstly, the sound and the look annoy the hell out of me. And secondly, when the bloody things get stuck into a closed loop by turning right all the time, I remember that I actually like maps and enjoy browsing them. Julie, unfortunately, doesn't have the same facility with maps as I do, so it can be a little hit and miss when it comes to going to new places.

That aside, I decided that we would consult our road atlas together, before we set off once more.

As the three of us crowded around the pages, Julie betrayed her lack of experience (because that's all it is really) once more and wondered how I knew where we were.

Our friend was ever so pleased. She'd only been in this country for a couple of hours and she'd already been at Gem ground zero.

A generous, axe-wielding howler of a Gem

WOOHOO! We're back!
Many apologies for the absence, and I hope you haven't all drifted away through boredom. I promise you that we are now back on track and ready to post at our original rate of three times a week (Monday, Wednesday and Friday), with possible extra posts when we feel like it.

Since we last posted, Julie felt as though she needed to store up her reserves, which meant the Gem rate wasn't particularly high. However, that's not to say that my darling wife was entirely silent. In amongst everything else that had been happening in our chaotic couple of months away, we had a visit from Pierre, a good friend from Germany (something that confused Julie's already dubious geographical knowledge). It didn't help that she - for some reason - seemed to mentally default his name to Piers...

Anyhow, the day came, and we sat in the lounge, waiting for Pierre to arrive. Since we had never met in the flesh before, this was going to be an interesting meeting, and Julie was a tad nervous.

Now, was it nervousness that made Julie confuse psychopath, philanthropist and philatelist, or was she just getting back into Gemming with a fine old start? Whatever it was, welcome back, Julie!
As for Pierre, well, he proved to be a great guest, and it was fun to have him around for the weekend; pity it wasn't for longer... It also turned out that he had left his axe at home and has no interest in collecting stamps. However, he IS a rather generous person. While not precisely of philanthropic levels, we were stunned at the  basketful of goodies he brought us...

Booze, chocs, meats and - mmmm! - lots of pistachio nuts! As you can see, my friend is substantially taller than me (and rather cautious of camera flashes), but he was a gentle giant and it was a pleasure to have him as a houseguest.
Salud!

Sick at the sight of Spike?

As you read this, I am hopefully out and about, doing my roadie bit for my company, as they try and hawk their wares to a multitude of possibly uninterested and occasionally larcenous (going by my latest experiences) hairdressers. On the way, I aim to meet a few friends, and have indeed managed to do this already, both on this tour and on the previous round. Silliness was prevalent and fun was had by... a few, at least.
By the time I post this, I should be in Coventry, and aiming to be in Manchester for the following day. On that particular day, a Thursday, I will be in a damn sweet hotel, albeit one that has changed its name (and, indeed, ownership) since I last visited, a mere few months ago. The thing is, last time I was there, there were a few problems with communication, one way or another, and one of my friends never made it to the meet-up. That was a crying shame as the lady I did meet, turned out to be just as nice and fun in real life as she is on the other side of a computer screen.
This time, there are problems once more; with timing for the previously absent friend (although he may yet make it) and with Mamacat, as I originally knew her, there is a health situation, as I explained to Julie.

Wow - nice one love; A complete sympathy fail and a crushing put-down in one sentence? Sorry, Mamacat, but I think I managed to catch the brunt of that one.
I don't know, considering my friend has contributed to this blog on more than one occasion, courtesy of her young daughters, you'd think Julie would at least extend some professional courtesy... unless she's jealous, of course...

UPDATE
I AM in Coventry, in a library, and glad to be out of the hotel. I woke up with a headache, which was unpleasant. I would have had a shower, but having seen that the shower patently hasn't been cleaned, I think I may limit myself to a quick wash-over with a sponge. Yes, the shower IS that bad; even worse, it's the 2nd room. When I saw the black-spot mould all over the shower in the first room, I immediately refused to use it and demanded a second room.
Sheesh. I wish I was back in Cardiff...

Paraprosdokians, part 1: A guest makes her own logic

"Para-what?"
Yeah, I know. I too had to break it down into its component syllables before I could wrap my tongue around it. Apparently, a paraprosdokian is a phrase in two parts or more, where the final section takes the reader (or listener) in a new an unexpected direction. Obviously, this is used quite a lot in humorous situations.
Not quite so obviously, Julie is the person who brought this to my attention, in an email saying that this seemed like Gem country to her. I'll tell you what, she's not wrong. Here are some examples from the email Julie sent me.

• The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it's still on my list.
• We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public.
• To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is
  research.
• I didn't say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you (a very Gem-like example, to my mind).
• You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute
  to skydive twice.
• I always take life with a pinch of salt. Plus a slice of lemon,
  and a shot of tequila.
• (this one is my personal favourite of the bunch) A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk, I have a work station.

Coming back to True Gems, the phrases that are verbal slips more than witticisms, I am proud to introduce a new guest star to the site. Maddy is the daughter of a friend and a friend in her own right. Her grammar and spelling, like many of her generation, could be better, but she's eloquent and a budding poet.
Normally.
This time, Maddy was talking to a young friend of hers, one who was feeling a little down about his own abilities. Maddy, being the compassionate young lady she is, decided to console him.

A little hint, Maddy - if you're trying to cheer up someone who feels like they're a little slow, try not employing Gem logic. Apparently, it took a few minutes of hurried explanation (and not a little laughter on both sides) to clear that one up. Fair play to Maddy, though - she did tell me all about it herself.

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In the meantime, since I have posted a few non-Julie Gems now, I have had a few people ask me how Julie feels about sharing 'her' site with other folk.

Does that answer your question? I hope it does, because that's probably the best you're going to get...

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Finally, I teased the people who have become Facebook fans of Julie's Gems yesterday. Today, I widen the net and pique the curiosity of others too.
On Friday, I will be giving you some small cause for moderate excitement, all thanks to a man named Ambrose Bierce, the author of The Devil's Dictionary.


Tata for now - see you Wednesday with another teaser!