Spot the bow ties

Apologies for the recent hiatus in postings: it was largely caused by the need to plan and cook lunch for 50 in 3.5 hours and recover from the (mainly splendid) experience. On a food theme, here's a 1977 shot of the lunch with tablecloths & waitress service that was enjoyed by Messrs. Irvine, Howell, Glaskin & Roberts. Here they are in mid-trough snapped by Anna Behan. Love the bow ties.

Max Glaskin & the Irvines in 1977

Jim and Kath Irvine pictured here by Becky Spencer (now Sanderson) in 1977 with Max Glaskin as the prime mover in making a hat appear to levitate in thin air above their heads. In the background C-H-M thinks he recognises the purple-adorned door of the lorry that was hired that year from Brockworth for transporting huts and tools between the hill and Ullenwood. Its presence means this picture was taken either right at the beginning, or more likely, I suspect right at the end of the digging season. Update from Max: "More likely the start because I don't think I was there at the end. Mind you, it's easy to forget minutiae after a gap of something like 32 years, 5 months, 11 days and 19 hours."

All smiles at lunch in 1977

A beautiful day and everyone in a good mood at lunch. L to R: Corky Gregory, Kate Gilbert, Jo Bacon, Rosie from Lytham St Annes, Ros Cleal, Jim Irvine, and is that a youthful Dave Hollos in the foreground? Jim's positioning and the hint of tablecloth tells me this was the day he sat down to lunch with Max Glaskin, Robert Roberts and John Howell with Jane waiting at table, known as Wibble, because of a terrible but very funny joke about a butler that Max told that year. Wine, most unusually was served as evidenced by one very early post on this blog. Photo: Anna Behan. Update: and, now, I realise I must have taken this photo just before or after Anna took hers.

The butler joke Max told went something like this: "An English Lord had a butler named Wibble. One very hot summer's day, his Lordship summoned Wibble and said, "Wibble, would you run my bath, please?" "Certainly, my Lord," replied Wibble. "Will there be anything else, my Lord?" "Yes, Wibble, please see that some cool clothes are laid out after the bath. It's confoundedly warm." "Indeed it is, my Lord. Certainly, my Lord. Your Lordship's linen suit, I think. Will there be anything else, my Lord?" "Yes, Wibble, please tell her Ladyship I will dine at my club." "Of course, my Lord" "Anything else, my Lord?" "That will be all. Get on with running the bath, man."

Wibble ran the bath, told his Lordship it was ready and, having escorted him to his bath, hovered nearby in case there were any further instructions. "Will there be anything else my lord?" "This bath is not too hot is it, Wibble?" "No, my Lord, I have checked the temperature by dipping my elbow in it. Your Lordship will not be scalded. Will there be anything else my lord?" "No, Wibble. If I require anything else I shall call you." With that, his Lordship lowered himself into the water and let out a long, loud fart.

The blisteringly hot day sapped the energy of both Lord and butler. His Lordship went for a walk, dined at his club, came home and, at last, retired to bed. It was still sweltering. He was aghast to find a hot water-bottle in his bed. Furious, he rang the bell for Wibble. "Wibble, have you taken leave of your senses, man? What the hell is a hot water-bottle doing in my bed? It's one of the hottest days for months. One can scarcely bear to move. There isn't a trace of a breeze. I'm gasping for the touch of cool bedlinen. And you take it upon yourself to put a blasted hot water-bottle in my bed. What on earth were you thinking of, man?"

"But my Lord, you asked for a hot water-bottle." "I most certainly did not! Why would I order a hot water-bottle on a day like this?" "But you did, my Lord. As you lowered yourself into your bath this morning, I distinctly heard you say, "Whadabowdawadderboddlewibble?"" © Max Glaskin 1977 and Julian Parker 2009.

Air Balloon nastiness ...

Some people really do have some very odd ideas and do some very strange things: Max Glaskin draws my attention to the following item on the BBC website:

A chemist who contaminated food and wine in Gloucestershire supermarkets with his own urine and faeces has been sent to prison for nine years.

Sahnoun Daifallah, 42, of Bibury Road, Gloucester, was found guilty of four counts of contaminating goods at four businesses in May 2008.

Judge Carol Hagen said at the hearing in March that she found him to be "a potentially very dangerous man".

Daifallah, who defended himself, had pleaded not guilty to all charges.

Bristol Crown Court had heard the Algerian-born chemist sprayed the mixture in the Air Balloon Pub, in Birdlip, near Cheltenham on 14 and 16 May.

Deportation proceedings

He then moved on to the Waterstones bookstore in Cirencester, Tesco in Quedgley and Morrisons in Abbeydale.

Your actions showed a callous disregard for public safety  Judge Carol Hagen

The court heard shoppers and staff in both stores saw Daifallah with a black laptop computer with a vapour coming from the bag being sprayed on the shelves.

The cost of damaged products and lost business due to resulting store closures was estimated at £700,000.

When police searched his house they found stockpiles of the mixture and plans to spread it in other cities including Bristol and Birmingham.

Daifallah, who had fantasies about biological weapons to cause public alarm, was also found guilty of having an offensive weapon, namely a catapult with marbles.

Judge Carol Hagen sentenced him to concurrent sentences of three years, five years and two of nine years for the contamination offences and 12 months for possession of a weapon.

She added she had wanted to jail him indefinitely but the law would not allow her to.

"Your actions showed a callous disregard for public safety and you caused considerable alarm and anxiety," she said.

Proceedings to deport him are underway.

Think this is 1976, but might be 1977 ...

A cutting uncharacteristically messy when I compare it with most of my photographs,
with, L to R, (?) Max Glaskin, John Parry, Unknown, Mike Gething with the entrance through the ramparts behind them.

"If that's me, and unfortunately it does appear to be so, then I believe it must have been 1977, when tatty shorts were the height of fashion.
Max."

Jim Irvine, Robert Roberts, John Howell and Max Glaskin dine together...

A lunch break, possibly summer 1979 [update: actually 1977], with unusual formal touches: bow tie, waistcoat, bottle of wine... and where on earth did the table cloth come from? Jim Irvine comments: "Hi Julian, That was in fact 1977, my first (training) excavation at Crickley. I remember the dinner well and still talk about it. IIRC the guy on the left with his back to the camera may have been Max Glaskin and the girl next to him our 'butler' was called Jane and hailed from the Wirral. Crickley Hill Man said... Oddly enough, Jim, I was just looking at the grass in the photo and wondering whether I was right about it being 79 because it looks dry enough to be 76. But I'm glad you know the answer. Max's surname had escaped me: I remember he had a rather fine and inevitably vulgar joke about Moshe Dayan and an ill-behaved parrot which cannot be repeated here as it is partly visual.