Season Greetings

[gavin]

Hello All

I hope that you are all enjoying yourselves and not reading bee fora 'cos you have far better things to do. Me? Only dipping in briefly, honest.

For anyone outside Scotland who doesn't know what Scottish life can be like, at Christmas or otherwise ...


http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&feature=fvwp&v=GX1DVnNWtGY

Merry Christmas everyone.

G.

[chris]

Merry Christmas Gavin!! I'm just searching for another bottle of wine................ Obviously come to the wrong place:o All the best to you all out there.

[Jon]

A bottle of wine and some Gruts from the highway. What more could a man ask for...
Well maybe a second bottle of wine instead of the gruts.

Better things to do Gav?
I had the brainwave of walking the dog over by the association apiary this morning which meant that I could treat a couple of colonies with Oxalic acid while the dog watched from a safe distance.
Very mild here today 13c.

Best wishes for Christmas to all the regulars here.

[gavin]

I take it these were crop-derived gruts, the kind you could share with a donkey or some ponies, rather than the discarded clothing gruts?

Best keep your pals away from the supply lest they feed any to your dog.*

Been so busy with festive obligations of various kinds I haven't even been to see if the bees have couped over again in the latest series of mid-Scotland gales.

Chris, there was me thinking that the average Provencale paysan was happy with one bottle rather than the two, three or four you seem to have downed.

I should really have started this in the pointless drivel part of the site, but didn't.

G.

* with thanks to: http://gruts.com/misc/faq/why-gruts/

Gruts for Tea

by Ivor Cutler

“Hello, Billy, teatime! Gruts for tea! – Billy! Billy! Come on, son. Gruts for tea! Fresh gruts!”


“Oh, I don’t want gruts for tea, Daddy.”


“What? I went out specially and got them for you.”


“Aw, but Daddy, we had gruts yesterday.”


“Look, son, I walked seven miles to the High Wood to get you gruts. That’s fourteen miles in all, counting the journey back, and you don’t want gruts? I fried them for you. Fried gruts – mm – I fried them in butter.”


“I don’t want them, Daddy. Daddy, we’ve had gruts for three years now. I’m fed up with gruts. I don’t want them any more. Daddy, can’t we have something else for tea?”


“Oh, son! Gruts! They’re lovely.”


“Daddy, I don’t want gruts any more. I hate gruts. I detest them. I have them every day and they’re always fried in butter. Can’t you think of another way of cooking gruts? There’s hundreds of ways of cooking gruts: boil them or bake them or stew them or braise them – but every day – fried gruts. ‘Billy, come in for tea. Fried gruts. I’ve walked fourteen miles. Seven miles to the High Wood and back.’ Three years of gruts. Look what it’s done to me, Daddy! Come here! Come here into the bedroom and look at ourselves in the mirror, you and me. Now look at that!”


“Yes. I see what you mean. Son, let’s not waste these gruts. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the High Wood and get something else.”


“Look, Daddy, you’ve been saying this for three years now. Every day we have this same thing. I take you to the mirror and you say we’ll have something else for tea. What else is there in the High Wood besides gruts?”


“Well, there’s leaves, bark, grass, and leaves. Gruts are really the best. You must admit it.”


“Yes, Daddy, I admit it. Gruts are really the best, but I don’t want them. I hate them. I detest them. In fact I’m going to take this panful of gruts and throw them out.”


“Oh, don’t do that! Don’t throw them out for goodness’ sake! You’ll poison the dog!”

[Neils]

Merry Chrimble folks. Now the immediate boozing and feasting has died down for a bit I'm busy putting together my talk on beehives for our beginner's course which of course is why I find myself lurking around here. :D