Except maybe, can you beat this example of abominable parking?

If so, post it on your blog and leave me a link.

By the way, those yellow ‘do not park here’ lines go all the way to the back wheel. They curve.

Out walking the dogs today in the park, we saw a woman with a magnificent boxer straining at the leash. As she passed us on the path, I was overcome with a cloud of cloying perfume. It made me cough.

Me: I’ve often wondered what the dogs think of that.

OH: What?

Me: That horrible, heavy perfume. Didn’t you smell it?

OH: Oh yeah. Perhaps they do it on purpose.

Me: What?

OH: You know, so they can find them again.

Me: So they can find the dogs?

OH: No, maybe they do it so the dogs can find them again. Like .. for when they’ve fallen down a mine or something.

And I thought the poor dog was just trying to get away from the smell.

Look at this picture carefully. Yes, it is what you think it is - a field mouse sitting in the dog’s bowl.  And OH was sitting in the conservatory not more than six feet away with the door open. Cheeky little beggars, aren’t they?

Just for the record, I like mice, but they do carry diseases which are communicable to humans and also to dogs. Leptospirosis being the most common in this part of the world.

Down near Newmarket, in a village called Kennett, there is a fairly typical English pub called The Bell. It’s a lovely old part-timbered building, much patched and repaired, and it stands on a corner squarely facing the main road. Coming from the north, as we did, the approach is from the rear and the first thing you’ll notice is that there seems to be a pigeon loft built into the rear wall in the shape of a large bell. It’s a reminder of gentler days, so it is, when everyone needed a way to supplement the pot, especially landlords with customers to feed. I imagine that squab pie might have been a popular menu item, along with rabbit and the occasional jugged hare.

The second thing you’ll notice is that cemented into the pavement, at the front right corner of the pub, there is a bell. A real, genuine, honest-to-goodness bell. It seems to be made of cast metal, as bells usually are, and it is rock solid. Immovable. An obstacle to progress. There are no warning signs saying ‘Mind the Bell’. There are no flourescent paint markings or barriers or exhortations such as ‘Do Not Touch The Bell’. There are no admonitions not to let children climb on the bell. And I think it’s wonderful.

Can you imagine getting planning permission for that these days? The politically-correct lobby would have a purple-faced fit! Can you imagine filing an insurance claim? ‘I swerved to avoid a bicycle and hit a bell and that’s how I broke my car’. Yeah, right. Ahahaha! Now, come on, what really happened?

Ah, how I love the eccentricity of humanity! And it’s everywhere - I bet most of you can think of an example. Something so weird that you take it completely for granted, something you hardly notice anymore, but you’ll maybe find tourists gazing at in perplexity? I bet you do.

C’mon, guys and gals - what have you got?

Tell you what - I’ll issue a challenge to five people to find something quirky in their neighbourhood, photograph it and post it on their blog.

Anyone can join in, but here are my five victims.

I’m Having A Thought Here

Coastal Aussie

English Mum in Ireland

Notions From the Left of Far Right

Thinking Out Loud