Thelwell meets Outlaw Susie Wales

Can you spot the resemblance between this and


the picture to be revealed if you click here

I said I would do it though I have to confess it is not the first time. The first time the batteries did die in the camera. I knew my legs were short but this has been a negative epiphany.....if you have an urge to post a comment on the blog please reserve it for none short fat hairy leg Ernie Wise jokes.

This time though my horse was thinner - Dave got Joker who I had last time and he is (the horse not Dave) a little like the cartoon one. I'd like to say we made an orderly group on our trail ride but Riona and I were at the back sniggering at:

1 the size of "ass" on P's charge and the fact that the sassy walk suggested that it was a re-incarnation of Marilyn Monroe walking down the platform in Some like it Hot

2 Joker stopping every five minutes to eat to maintain her girth

To add to the confusion was one of those unfortunate fanny pack (US for bum bag) moments when american use of language and our sometimes juvenile pc sensitivities collide - my horse apparently was "spunky" and also liked to jump the creeks rather than go down one side and up the other so:

1 I found myself explaining spunky meaning spirited

2 when my horse TITAN who did not like being the last in line came right up behind Riona's horse in an attempt to get in front she got slightly nervous that the old definition of spunky applied

3 this fear was compounded when hearing our laughter the trail guide turned round. I told him that TITAN was getting too close and he then said pull him back if he is getting too frisky! So what did he mean now???

4 correct interpretation was affirmed when at the second creek...having lulled me into a false sense of security and with no warning whatsoever spunky TITAN launched himself across the void, no photographic evidence again but apparently I looked like this:

click here


I attach a picture of us all when composure was restored down by Grapevine Lake.



Having completed my crash course in horse management I have successfully graduated to doing this:


and this

and this

and not to be forgotten....this



Indulge me by clicking here and going straight to 2 minutes and 7 seconds

Occupations vacant - Elvisologist

I've had an epiphany - I understand the whole of "Walking in Memphis" -

I was that "(provide your own adjective) little thing waiting for the King down in the Jungle Room" but had to make do with a lookee likee who issued postcards and booking arrangements should you ever wish.....
Having endured a 9 hour car journey during which the windscreen wipers froze so stiff they no longer touched the windscreen and we witnessed 10 crashes and the back end of the car swinging out every time we went over or under a bridge I was a tad worried that Memphis and Graceland would not be that exciting especially when Riona and her boyfriend had endured a 14 hour journey to be with me on my birthday.

We scuttled into the nearest blues bar on Beale Street (the one on the right hand corner) complete with a hang yourself from the rafters and swallow my harmonica blues band belting out "The paaaaaaayn of luuuurv from an angry wommmaaaaaan" and proceeded to order gator gumbo and 4 spoons (1 to eat and the other 3 to hit any full size version jumping out at us from the bowl). MMMMMMMMMMMM spicy man.
The evening was topped by a surprise slice of key lime pie, the traditional birthday offering from the restaurant, ordered by P in secret. It came with 2 other surprises, one was the smack round the head from the waitress for P when he asked if she could put 46 candles on it (and you can stop pretending to be shocked) and the second was the fact that he got charged for the privilege.
Saturday am - into the hallowed ground to witness some almost "taste"

and some total tack

A breathtaking awards room

And a very deep sense of him as an icon.
The unnerving bits were:
1 the lookee likee mouthing all the words of the songs being piped through
2 the woman that sobbed and howled the length of the trophy corridor
3 the dummest,loudest dame edna everidge sound-a-like who despite the introduction which explained you cannot go upstairs in Graceland since he never took visitors up there and it was the only private place he had, whined "Why caaaaan't we go upstairs, I wanna go upstairs, what's upstairs we caaan't see....yadayadayadayada".

Late Saturday - the Peabody Hotel

In this lounge at 11 and 4 a gold top cane wielding duck master in a smart red jacket persuades the ducks that swim in the fountain to climb out and race across a red carpet to the lift. Based on a historic bet I think he said. It is a tradition which many people gather for, I tried to to a picture but was blocked by a butt the size of Kansas which was also swallowing little children in its wake. It had every right to be there to watch but at the back with the other adults.

We finished off the weekend with me almost becoming a pin-up....literally. Emerging from the motel room with two cups of coffee, I was one step short of the door when a man parking outside our room hit the accelerator instead of the brake, flew over the concrete bay marker and mounted the pavement. What really made me mad was that he didn't even stop the car to say sorry...just reversed and sped off. My friend B would say that it was just God's way of saying look sharp and think on...not that he ever quotes God anywhere else....

And the Elvisologist is real....I kid you not, it is the Elvis expert on KLUV radio station...that's KAY Ell YOU VEE.