An ordinary bloke in an extraordinary world: warning to previous recipe

Friday 24 June 2011

warning to previous recipe

If you happen to have read my blog

Christmas is Coming

, then beware. Buy a bloody big cake tin. I have ended up with not one, not two but five yes that's right five Christmas cakes. All very good I might add but all different sizes. Problem is I cannot even pass them on to the children as they may end up being a little tipsy. The RBL will get one for their Christmas raffle, but it looks like Karen and I will be eating Christmas cake for a while so come the actual day will be sick of Christmas cake. MMMM I wonder if i would get done for feeding the birds cake. Has any one ever seen drunk birds flying? Maybe an experiment is in order. But then the garden could end up bieng infested with alcholic birds. Entertainment on tap.

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IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master,
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)