David Cropper

Sorry to contradict, Moose. I don't know what part of France you are referring to, certainty not where I live and work. Barriers left in situ after work has been completed, temporary speed restriction signs still there a week or so after the jobs done, in perpetuum. I'm delving into Latin now, to show what a smart arse I am.

Becca sounds like the sort of girl to take home to meet mother.

Exactly the same for me Matt. Normally we are in a heat wave here now, rained pretty constantly for weeks , one month's worth fell overnight a week ago. My pumpkins, cucumbers and courgettes are crap, loads of leaves and flowers but they just aren't setting. Spuds are pretty tasteless, soil has been pushed into the skins, have to scrape the skins rather than just run them under water. Tomatoes are growing but the fruit seems to be waiting for some sun. Very depressing. Weeds have gone mad, the soil is so wet I can't get in to lift them. Worst year I can remember.

This was sent to me by another of our colleagues from the Mental Health forum. Mr Village Idiot, I shall also send one of these to enable you to prod the servants without actually coming into contact with them.

Listened to it, hated it as pretentious rubbish. I believe I and my leather suited friend will be seeing you on the mental health thread also. Till we meet again.

Yet another music hating oaf!

I assume we shall meet again on the thread about Mental Health, we seem to be on a converging path. I have a short booklet entitled " How to escape a strait jacket in three easy moves". It is a classic. I shall send it along with the George Formby material.

Curse him!

I refuse to be judged on my musical tastes by a leather suited gentleman in a gimp suit. I'm now off to listen to my favourite album of all time. " George Formby performs the best of Wagner". If you ask nicely a copy will wing your way shortly. I bid you Good day, sir.

Philistine!

I must be more mentally ill than I thought, I liked that! Bier keller music to get pissed to.

To bring a bit of light relief to an otherwise serious subject, I propose that we start a club, entitled something catchy such as "The damaged and depressive buggers club." I don't think we'll lack members, I'm the first in line for a badge.

Do not, I repeat, encourage him. The thought of him stamping around in lederhosen complete with sandals and socks would put the tin hat on it. His father lives in the next village to me, the last thing I need to see his great lump of a son mincing around glaring at the locals whilst singing the Horst Wessel marching song. I'm shuddering now!

A very brave and honest post, Gavin.

I'm a Northern bloke, Oldham, but for me getting pissed and ringing a mate wouldn't enter my head. I've never felt comfortable discussing my problems with anybody. If I relied on drink to help, I usually ended up getting even worse, bottling it up, then taking it out on some poor sod who looked at me sideways. I ended up seeing a psychiatrist for "my anger issues", didn't do me any good, I just felt a pillock and a bit of a tart. It took my then new wife to read me the Riot Act to bring me to heel and realise I could lose everything unless I changed. I did, although I still have an extremely quick temper, but now manage to control it. I've never taken it out on my animals or children, I'd walk away and fume on my own till I got under control. Again to reiterate, everyone is different, what works for one doesn't necessarily work for another.

Is that a bad thing, being "soft" ? I'd rather that I can now listen to someone who needs to unburden their self than how I was a few years ago. I come from the generation were being sensitive was seen as a fault, get a grip, man up, don't be a girl etc. That works for some but not everyone. When I was a very young Trooper, we had a lad about my age, 18, hung himself with a towel in the block drying room. That's something I won't forget. I expect he'd been told to "get a grip of yourself ", nobody would ask for help in those days, sign of weakness. It turned out he was working himself into a lather because of the constant patrols , he was basically frightened, couldn't see a way out. Took his own life rather than appear weak. What a waste of a young life. In case some of you think I'm a soft arse, I assure you I'm not. Just finally grown up. The World has changed, hopefully for the better.

I had a case of this today. My french pal a gardener/forester, 36 years old, was at my place and I'd got him some work with a Brit neighbour. He then starts to get upset as he's worried he can't cope with extra work. It turns out he was working at the local chateau at the edge of the village this morning, rained very heavily in the night meaning he was struggling to get the grass down. He told the owner he would return later after lunch when it was drier. Owner started moaning etc, turns out he constantly micro manages ever job that Franck does. Whilst he's telling me the tale, he starts to cry. The stress of it all has gotten to him in a big way. I took him into my kitchen, sat him down and we went through his options. The end result was that I've told him that when he's finished and the owner has paid him, thank him for the previous work but unfortunately it is impossible to continue due to his behaviour. Be polite but firm, his mental health is worth more than a few euros. I was worried he would take the stress home, a wife and two little ones to consider. He was thinking of future work from this chap, not worth it in the long run, something else will turn up. Quite worrying at the time as he's a nice lad but prone to thinking the worst will happen. I'll ring him in awhile to see what happened.

Pissed as a pudding. Or stupider than ever.

You can have it! It stinks of unwashed matelot and abused cabinboys.

I havent forgotten or forgiven him for saying he's anti horse as well. I remarked that you shouldn't trust the Boche with women and horse flesh.

You, sir, are a barbarian.

Not again!

I must be slipping, Mr Johnson, I can usually spot a Sausage Jockey straightaway, no offence to your good self. I don't think he is to be honest.

I've got the Husqvarna 535, Craig, only 35cc but was powerful enough when I did lots of brushcutting. I once was cutting stuff that was 3 metres high, around 5000 mtrs sq , and had been untouched for donkeys years. Found a hay cart completely covered in brambles, then 3 metres plus of that I hit an empty gas cylinder. Actually pierced the metal. First thing I knew what it was, was the smell of gas. Blade was knocked out of true but I think I was only paying 20 euro each for the two blade. Excellent bit of kit. Thankfully all that sort of work is behind me!