The picture that always haunts me. If we don’t do something about the problem of Islam in the UK this is what my grandkids will inherit. We need to man up and stop the rot before it’s too late.
Wednesday, 10 December 2025
At last it’s fly to PC day. Fortunately flight isn’t until 1330 so have a leisurely start to the day in the Escape lounge, sadly don’t manage to blag our way into Delta at Atlanta, but sat in airport is ok.
Flight doesn’t land until just after midnight so poor old Mike has a very late night. He’s there with his truck to pick us up and we spend the night at his place – very comfortable. End to a very tiring day.
Virgin flight is comfortable and ok but alas still no brandy – gone are the good old Baron Otard days. The Delta flight is as miserable and uncomfortable as ever. Next time we need to fly to Las Vegas and only have to suffer an hour on a Delta flight or even try a cut price airline.
Mike picks us up in his big white truck and we spend the night at his place, so much simpler than trying to get into our condo after midnight.
Thursday, 11 December 2025
Our home for the next 11 weeks.
Mike drives us over to 163, our new home for the next 11 weeks.
Spend the morning unpacking and bringing all our STUFF down from the 3rd floor lock up. A busy day but we’re soon settled in and 163 is much nicer than I’d anticipated.
Off shopping at Smiths in the afternoon – joy.
Take Mike out to dinner at Sammies.
Well that’s an added bonus. Let’s get it done.
Saturday, 13 December 2025
Another gorgeous blue sky day.
Go clay pigeon shooting with Mike. I’ve not improved.
Go to a Christmas fair in the afternoon. Usual crap that nobody really needs, but may want it and then after 3 months it’s binned, or clogging the shelves of the Christian centre.
Only in America.
Can you even fathom that people are that damn lazy and feckless they pay someone $1,795 to $3,695—yes, that’s up to four grand—to have a professional whisper sweet nothings into their dog’s floppy ears until it learns to sit without looking personally offended? What’s next, outsourcing your own breathing because it’s too time-consuming? I mean, call me old-fashioned, but if you’re shelling out for a living, breathing fur missile, surely part of the joy is spending three months yelling “NO!” while it chews your $300 sneakers and stares at you like you’re the one who’s unreasonable. That’s bonding, people. That’s the circle of life.
But no, apparently the modern pet parent prefers the deluxe package: buy designer dog, ship it off to canine finishing school, hire a walker so it gets exercise without inconveniencing your Peloton schedule, employ a professional pooper-scooper because heaven forbid those expensive manicured hands touch anything nature intended.
I strolled up to the lady at the dog-training booth—surrounded by brochures promising “guaranteed obedience or your money back” and asked, deadpan: “Excuse me, do you offer the same program for grandchildren? Mine could really use a come when called module, and I’m tired of picking up their metaphorical crap too.” She did not laugh. Shocking. Americans don’t really understand or cope with my sarcasm
Sunday, 14 December 2025
Another gorgeous sunny day and quite mild, but still no snow.
Lazy start then drive up to Snowtop but alas, despite no real snow on the hill, the trail is covered in hard packed snow. Park up at the fire station and do a lovely walk down to the White Barn – circulars just 2.7 miles. Just an awesome day. A glad to be alive day. Makes you appreciate being lucky enough to do this, even if I do feel the 7,000 feet altitude.
Mike comes round for tea, bloody pot roast. Then we watch a movie, alas Mike forgot the popcorn.
Monday, 15 December 2025
Another gorgeous blue sky day, temperature not too bad. Still no snow.
Go to Basin Rec for open pickleball with Mike and Carmel. Have some good games, but it’s busy. Probably be less busy if we get some snow.
Go to bank to open an account but they’re late so it pisses me off, not difficult these days.
Quiet night in.
Tuesday, 16 December 2025
Another sunny day.
A 3 mile loop walk down to the White barn and back to Dan’s for espresso.
Carol and Angela come round for dinner and wine of course. Angela’s grown into a very sensible, talented and articulate young lady. It’s a pleasure to talk to her. Carol should be proud.
Wednesday, 17 December 2025
A rainy and sleeting day.
Pickleball in the morning with Carmel and Mike. Mikes lockup in the afternoon. And a quiet night in with some really crap TV. Set up the Christmas tree Kerry gave us and even found some lights for it. Just needs a few baubles.
Ah, the eternal mystery of American “customer service” — or as we Brits like to call it, “customer servitude avoidance training.” One does wonder if we’ve been spoiled by centuries of expecting shopkeepers to at least pretend they want our money, or if Yanks simply view customers as mildly annoying interruptions to their paperwork. I toddle through life labouring under the delusion that I’m a customer. I know, shocking. I’ve been told it’s treatable common syndrome and I’m not dangerous — apparently there’s a 12 – step program involving mandatory indifference and a lifetime supply of “have a nice day” said through gritted teeth. After being subjected to the financial equivalent of a full cavity search by Chase and Wells Fargo—complete with more fine-print weasel words than a politician’s expense claim — I thought I’d try Zions Bank.
Surely a bank named after the promised land would welcome a weary traveller with open arms?
The teller cheerily explains the account options. All sounds marvellously affordable until — plot twist! she casually drops that there’s a $45 fee for transferring money in. Brilliant! No wonder it’s cheap; they’re basically running a protection racket on your own funds. I double-check, because surely no one could be that brazen: “Are you absolutely certain?” Oh yes, love, she’s sure. I make a swift exit, muttering dark oaths under my breath.
While prowling the supermarket aisles (miraculously unescorted — Wendy must be slipping), I consult Zion’s website on my phone. Lo and behold, what the teller “forgot” to mention: ACH transfers in are completely free. Does anyone actually train these people, or do they just draw straws to see who gets to invent fees that day? Considering they spend most of their day sat around bored out of their tree, you’d think they’d find some time to read up on their product offerings and become an expert.
So back I march, armed with righteous indignation and a screenshot. Politely point out the ACH detail and request to open an account. At this point, I fully expect the red carpet, a brass band, perhaps a small fountain of champagne and a personal apology from the CEO. In my dreams.
Instead, I gently interrupt a banker mid-conversation with another client: “Excuse me, any idea how long you’ll be?” His reply deserves to be preserved in the British Museum as the pinnacle of customer deterrence: “I don’t know how long it’ll be, and when I’m done I’ve got all this paperwork to do.” I stand there momentarily stunned and lost for words. I grit my teeth and resist the powerful urge to reply: “Oh splendid! And when you’ve finished shuffling those vitally important forms, do let me know — assuming the bank still exists after you’ve successfully repelled every potential depositor who might actually pay your salary. Honestly, if this is how they treat people trying to give them money, I’d hate to see what happens when you ask for it back.
Thursday, 18 December 2025
Another sunny but cool day.
Set up a Zions bank checking account so I can have a USA visa debit card. Transfer dollars in from Uk and get cash out. Their concept of customer service leaves a bit to be desired, but no cos to operate and no minimum balance beats Chase accounts who require a $1,500 minimum balance.
Then it’s shopping with Wendy.
Brief stroll in the afternoon.
Evening we end up at Jerri’s for a tree trimming party – not a clue what to expect. But we had a great evening good company, great food and plenty of wine. As for creating pop corn and cranberry decorations that was a first. Overall another unique American experience.
The finished effort.
Corn and cranberry garlands are a classic, DIY Christmas decoration, originating from German traditions of using fruit on trees, adapted by American colonists using available foods like popcorn and cranberries for festive, homemade garlands on trees, symbolizing natural winter bounty with their red and white colors. People string them by hand with a needle and thread, often on twine or floss, alternating popcorn and fresh cranberries for a rustic, edible, or long-lasting (if sealed) ornament that feeds wildlife or just looks festive.
Origins & History
German Roots: The tradition stems from German settlers decorating trees with fruits and nuts; popcorn strings were a natural evolution in America, notes Parade.
Native American Influence: Popcorn itself has ancient ceremonial uses, including garlands for statues and headdresses by Aztec people, as noted in History.org.
Cranberry’s Role: The bright red cranberry, cultivated in the 1800s, became a perfect natural complement, lasting due to its waxy coating, according to History.org.
How to Make Them
Materials: Popcorn (day-old works best), fresh cranberries, heavy thread/floss/fishing line, needle.
Technique: Thread needle with floss, knot end, then alternate stringing popcorn (through the center) and cranberries.
Variations: Can be made purely of popcorn, cranberries, or mixed; can be strung loosely around the tree or twisted into shapes with wire, says MSU Extension.
Usage & Symbolism
Decorating: Drape loosely on the tree, banisters, or windows.
Feeding Wildlife: Can be left on the tree to feed birds in winter.
Durability: Fresh garlands last about a week but can be made with artificial popcorn (from foam) for permanent use, notes Hearth & Field and a YouTube video.
Friday, 19 December 2025
Another sunny and warmish day. Still no snow.
No Pickleball today. Have the day off to give my pulled calf muscle chance to recover.
Go round to the Eccles Centre to watch Angela perform in a talent show. She was very good, sat on a stool, sang and played her guitar.
In the evening we all troop round to Dan and Joan’s for dinner and of course wine. Another great meal from Dan and there’s Polenta. Plenty of wine, including some very quaffable chianti.
Saturday, 20 December 2025
Another sunny and warmish day. Still no snow.
We have Sylvia and Mike round for dinner
Sunday, 21 December 2025
A lazy day. Still no snow to speak of and the mountains are just getting bearer.
In the evening we have Marriane, Carmel, Dan, Joan and Mike round for Wendy’s birthday party. I know a day early but Wendy volunteers on a Monday. Greta evening, great company, food. and alcohol.
Monday, 22 December 2025
Wendy’s 77th birthday. Being a couple of tight arses we no longer buy one another presents or waste money on cards. What’s the point there’s nothing we need or even want. If there was something we wanted we would have bought it by now.
M,C and I play pickleball while Wendy volunteers.
I go down to Costco to have my hearing aids adjusted. Wow, they’re very good. I can hear now. Perhaps I won’t tell Wendy.
Followed by a quiet evening in.
Wednesday, 24 December 2025
Pickleball in the morning. Nip round to Mariannes for some Italian bread she’s made for us, like a pizza, but can’t pronounce never mind spell the name of it.
Lazy afternoon. Sarah and Brett come round for drinks and nibbles in the evening. Good to catch up.
Still no snow. And the rain we’ve had has just washed away even more snow on the mountains. Looking very dire.
Our somewhat anorexic Christmas tree, but it makes it feel like home.
Thursday, 25 December 2025
Lazy morning. Time for the Edwards traditional coffee laced with rum.
Short stroll in the afternoon.
Then it’s Christmas dinner at Marianne’s. There’s 13 of us. A great spread and roast pork rather than turkey – thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Awesome company (all of Mikes family), awesome food and great wine. What a lovely American Christmas dinner experience.
Friday, 26 December 2025
A wet rain and sleet day. We manage a short stroll.
Go to pick a car up from Hertz. Typical shit service – see yet another rant.
End up with a very nice 4 wheel drive jeep.
It’s Beatrix’s 9th birthday. We watch her open her doll present, she’s oh so happy with it.
In the evening we’re off to Blackrock restaurant for dinner with Mike and his family. His daughter and grandkids have flown in from Napa, saving him from having to drive there for Christmas. Great food and company – the Halibut was awesome.
Go to pick a car up from Hertz. Typical shit service:
No one there. Sign on door says back soon – no indication of when they left or how long soon is.
Ring the number and extension quoted on the sign and the extension is for Insurance matters. Does anybody ever check?
I’m sorry we’ve only got a Camaray. But that’s lower than we paid for. What about my President circle free upgrade. All the other cars are taken. Well make some one else suffer a down grade.
Are any of the cars 4 wheel drive with snow tyres. “I’m sorry I don’t know”. Who do you work for a Turtle Farm, isn’t it your job to Know.
We’ve got a jeep, but I’ll have to prep it, may take a few minutes.
It seems China has created a highly respect AI platform called Qwen. Carried out a few tests on it. Don’t ask it about Tianamum square massacre; China’s treatment of Muslims; their record on spying; how they steal IP from the west; the need for the west to cease trading with them; the fact they’re in an economic war with us; censorship of Qwen AI. Their standard response is:
“Oops! There was an issue connecting to Qwen3-Max.
Content Security Warning: The input text data may contain inappropriate content.”
DON’T USE IT. IT IS CENSORED BY THE COMMUNIST GOVERNMENT IN CHINA. PROBABLY ALSO A DANGEROUS EXPOSURE OF YOUR DATA.
Saturday, 27 December 2025
Wake to a lovely white world. We’ve had the first snow, all 3 inches of it. Can you believe that by 0900 all the roads have been plowed and all the paths, including our deck to the front door, have been cleared.
After yet another leisurely morning we trundle off down to Smiths for the weekly shop. I only go because it gets me out of the house.
In the afternoon it starts to snow a bit. Off we jolly well go for a stroll, there’s something magical about walking in the snow.
The grandkids are excited about Florida trip and Disney cruise. Especially Esther she’s already packed he case and is ready and waiting with her coat on.
Monday, 29 December 2025
Another gorgeous day. No snow. No pickleball. Just a walk from Willow Creek up to the White Barn and back, about 3 miles.
In the evening Neil and his family take us out to the Blackrock. Has to be one of the best meals this year. French onion soup to start followed by some delicious scallops in an awesome sauce with a flaky pasty sort of pancake. Really nice to finally meet Neil, he has an awesome family.
Wednesday, 31 December 2025
Another bluebird day. Off for a 3 mile walk around the White barn. Awesome weather, sunny and warm enough – a great to be alive sort of day.
In the afternoon a group of us go to archery.
Quiet evening in. And of course we’re in bed by 2130. Woken at 0218 by some ignorant slobs letting off fireworks. Come on, have some consideration. No problem with midnight fireworks, but 0218 is just a complete lack of consideration for others.
Much as I detest China as a country and all it stands for, including economic warfare with the West, I have to say this new years drone show was out of this world. Normally I would say that drone shows are nowhere near as good as fireworks but this has to be the turning point when Drone shows beat fireworks. Awesome.
China smashed it’s own world record with a stunning 15,947 drone show:
Just so true these days.
THE UGLY TRUTH About Pickleball’s New “Elite” Culture — And Why It’s Quietly Killing the Game
I’ve been around long enough to see every phase of this sport:
The birth. The boom. The madness. The celebs. The sponsors. The rec legends. The obsessed DUPR chasers.
And lately?
Something’s changed.
It’s not the paddles.
It’s not the rules.
It’s the attitude.
Pickleball used to feel like a neighborhood BBQ.
Now some courts feel like high school all over again.
Let’s stop pretending we don’t see it.
The elitist culture is real — and it’s squeezing the life out of the game.
—
Remember When Pickleball Was Actually… Friendly?
Not long ago, you could show up with a $30 paddle and get welcomed like family.
Didn’t matter if you were: Young or old
Athletic or injured
A total beginner gripping the paddle like a frying pan
Someone would step in and help.
Now?
Some courts feel like silent caste systems.
If you’re not dressed like a catalog model…
Don’t have a 4.0+ rating…
Or didn’t buy the “cool kid” paddle…
You might as well wear a sign that says:
“Please ignore me.”
I’ve seen players judged for their paddle… their grip… their SHOES.
Yes. Their shoes.
This is where we’re at now?
—
Ratings Used to Be a Tool. Now They’re a Personality
DUPR and UTPR were meant to help competition.
Now they act like social credit scores.
People shop for partners like it’s a dating app: “He’s a 3.47… yeah, I only play 3.5+.” “I got stuck with a 3.0 again.” “She shouldn’t even be on THIS court.”
You’re not trying out for the Olympics.
You’re playing a game that was invented in someone’s backyard.
And here’s the wild part…
Some of the most elitist people I’ve met are mid-level players with inflated egos and zero humility.
Meanwhile, some 3.0 players are absolute gold: Hungry to learn
Always encouraging
Laughing
Building real community
Ratings don’t create great pickleball environments.
People do.
—
Pickleball doesn’t belong to: The pros
The 5.0s
The cliques
It belongs to EVERYONE who steps on the court with love for the game.
—
The Best Pickleball Communities Feel Human
Courts thrive when:
✅ People cheer for each other
✅ Beginners feel safe
✅ Partners rotate
✅ No one treats rec play like Wimbledon qualifiers
✅ Joy is louder than ego
That’s what built this sport.
Not the ratings.
Not the paddles.
Not the highlight reels.
The heart did.
The humanity did.
The FUN did.
—
Here’s My Simple Ask:
Next time you step on the court… ask yourself:
Did I welcome someone?
Did I include someone?
Did I check my ego at the gate?
Did I make this court better or worse today?
If the answer is “no” — don’t blame the game.
You’re part of the problem.
Pickleball doesn’t need more exclusivity.
It needs more generosity.
More kindness.
More of what made it explode in the first place.
If we protect THAT — pickleball stays beautiful forever. 🏓❤️
Remember the first rule of Pickleball – SMILE.
And a parting thought.
