Wednesday, 31 October 2012

Halloween. We rocked it baby!

Ah, Halloween. It's one of those things that drastically changes in significance once you have children.

In the olden days (i.e. before Izzy), the night in question would arrive, and I could oft be heard saying: "turn off the lights and hide, I don't want the little buggers coming round here begging."

Then, whilst I was cowering in abject darkness, one horde of kids after another would shout through the letterbox, 'you miserable bitch!', sometimes pushing through a dollop of dog shit to emphasise their general dissatisfaction.

That was London, where the kids were hardcore, and where it was also generally accepted that midget zombies could be shooed away with a cricket bat if necessary. Not that I did of course. I don't play cricket. 

Fast-forward to Halloween 2012 and we encounter a different state of affairs. Instead of London, I now live in genteel Oxfordshire, where the kids are more likely to be found discussing the perfect roux. And instead of me being 'bah humbug' about Halloween, there was seven year old Izzy to please. It's a different gravy. I had to raise my bar.

So, to celebrate the occasion, I invited two of Izzy's best mates (May and Chip - short for Chipmunk) around for a mini-Halloween bash (no flies on me, although you can see where they've been). I thought I had excelled myself in the preparation department after purchasing a giant 'ham and pineapple' pizza, and some chocolate mousses in readiness.

But apparently (according to Izzy), we also needed a pumpkin, fake cobwebs, giant spiders and a whole load of other guff that I hadn't bought. That's probably why one of my nicknames is, 'hostess-with-the leastess'. Crikey, I only have a kitchen because it came with the house.

My only redeeming feature was that I had been sent a whole load of Halloween freebies by Asda (Izzy chose her own outfit from the selection), so at least Izzy had a costume to go trick-or-treating in, and some costume make-up.

And because I am like Mother Theresa, except that I would have a facelift if I became that wrinkly, I have got some photographs for you ................

Pic.No.1 Izzy's friend, May, arrived first and they immediately changed into their Halloween costumes. May was a witch and Izzy was a corpse bride (yeh, I don't know what that is either)

Pic.No.2 Man alive. Now for the challenging bit. I had to do the scary make-up ....... and I'm the least creative person on the planet. I was a bit worried that the look was a bit too 'giant panda', but they seemed to love it

Pic.No.3 Chip (left) turned up in time for dinner, and the Three Muskehounds were complete. I burned the pizza a bit, but the tubs of chocolate mousse turned out ok

Pic.No.4 When Chip's mum, Denise (who is dead creative), dropped off Chip, she also gave us a pumpkin ..... how cool is that!

Pic.No.5 Not only that, but she dropped off some Halloween spider biscuits that she and Chip had made that day ....... May contributed the bat to the photo (left hand side)

Pic.No.6 The Muskehounds ready to go trick or treating ......

Pic.No.7 They were a bit hesitant with their first trick-or-treat

Pic.No.8 But the hesitancy lasted for about 30 seconds, and then I couldn't keep up with their exuberance. We must have visited about 40 houses .........

Pic.No.9 Flippin' hek! There is a giant orb / space ship in the sky ..... actually, joking aside .... what is that?

Pic.No.10 This was the girls' favourite trick or treat house. The guy had dressed as a monk and there were loads of spooky skeletons hanging down

One thing that these pictures don't show, is exactly how busy the village was with trick-or-treaters. There were huge amounts of kids all dressed up and enjoying Halloween. And the whole village was buzzing. It was bloody brilliant fun.........

There was also another amazing thing - the weather. There had been torrential rain all day, but it stopped at exactly 6pm (when we left the house) and resumed again at exactly 8pm (the time we went to the pub). It was like divine intervention or something.

Pic.No.11 Finally, after an hour and a half of trick-or-treating, I asked the girls; "Anyone fancy a quick pint in the pub?" They all yelled a big affirmative. That's my girls

Pic.No.12 And the girl's fathers weren't far behind, once the pub was mentioned. On the left we have May's dad, DJ Hyper (also a founder member of the band Bright Bright Machines). And on the right, we have Tim, the founder of Alberon (a large web development company). I hope I get paid for that .........

But finally, it appears as though I have a potential rival blogger ...... Izzy. To celebrate Halloween, she decided to write a spooky story.

Pic.No. 13 Izzy's Halloween Story

And here is the story in type: "Once there was a girl called Scarlett. One day she was getting married to a boy called Tom. She looked so pretty in her beautiful wedding dress. She went looking for a rose at a brickwall castle.

She was near the woods when she saw a man on a horse. It was black and huge and the man had no head. He was the headless horseman. Scarlett was scared, she screamed and ran away. The headless horseman chopped off her head with his huge axe and she was dead.

She arose from the dead and she had long fangs. Her dress was disgusting! There was cobwebs on it and black roses.

Then she found him and she bit him on the neck. Then Tom turned into a vampire and spent the rest of his life scaring people to DEATH!"

The End."

I might have to give her a guest slot on me blog!

So dahlink, on a different note, how did your Halloween night go?

Monday, 29 October 2012

Help me! I am being bitten to death .....

I'm under seige I am. A bit like the Last of the Mohicans (that's the only siegey-type thing I could think of). Except that I'm not using a twig to defend myself against gunfire. Although I might as well be.

Yep, I am rapidly losing the battle against a plague of mosquitos who have taken up residence in my back garden. Apparently, a 'perfect storm' (opens in a new window) of horrendously wet weather throughout the summer, combined with fairly warm temperatures, has provided the perfect breeding ground for the relentless little bastards.

It's a bit like living in an Amazonian rain-forest, but without any cool shit that you would get in a tropical habitat: like sunshine, exotic flora and fauna, frogs with long tongues, copulating orang utans, lurking crocodiles, bird-eating flowers, and men in loin cloths killing wild boar with a single shot of their poisoned dart.

Except that I live in Oxford. And the most exotic animals that we get round here are cows. And pigeons. And sometimes I spy ants carrying out the breadcrumbs from my kitchen because I am a bit slovenly about housework. But sadly no men in loin cloths. The men here all wear tweed jackets with leather patches at the elbow, because that makes you intelligent.

But still, back to the matter in hand. I am being slowly bitten to death by the berluddy mozzies.
Pic.No.1 If this picture was taken in my house, I would twat that mozzie with a spade

Despite wearing 'Mosquito-Proof Jungle Formula Spray' (whenever I remember to apply it), I am still sporting between 40 - 50 mozzie bites all over my legs and torso, and it's getting worse every night.

Yet Izzy and Naughty George remain bite-free. What the blazes is that all about then?

I implore you ..... if you know any tricks for getting rid of the buggers, can you let me know? I am beginning to look like a victim of Leprosy, except I haven't had any limbs fall off. which is handy in the day-to-day scheme of things.

Maybe I should spend tomorrow inventing a Mozzie blow-torch?

Look forward to hearing from you dahlink!

P.S. Update! After writing this post, I had a parcel arrive in the post. Some kind people from a company called 3M Select, had read about my plight, and sent me this ..........

Pic.No.2  Huzzar. Thank you 3M Select ..... that'll see the little bastards off ......

Saturday, 27 October 2012

People keep sending me Freebies .... it's great!

Dahlink! I don't know about you, but I am bally glad that Friday has arrived. It has been one thing after another this week. And it feels like someone has flipped open the top of my skull and given my brain a bloody great hammering with a Kenwood (TM) electric whisk.

As well as all the other crap that I told you about in my last post (opens in a new window), I have managed to break the back of my iPhone again (in my defence I have stone floors throughout my house, which are very unforgiving). The Ebay man who sells me the iPhone backs will probably send me a magnum of Bolly this Christmas ...... and still make a profit.

And Naughty George crapped and pissed in the kitchen again last night, but this time it was due to the fact that I didn't take him on his normal one and a half mile drag (because I was sorting out my new tyre). He's like a Guantanamo Bay prisoner with his dirty protests. I might buy him an orange doggy jump-suit and refuse him access to a lawyer.

Pic.No.1 Sacre-Berluddy-Bleu! It is the third time in as many weeks that I have broken my iPhone (you can see the cracks near the lens on the bottom left)

I digress. Back to freebies. In the last year and a half, I have had quite a large number of marketing and advertising agencies bunging me free stuff, asking for it to be featured on my lil ol' blog.

Crikey, I have all kinds of things arrive at my house. For example ...... tickets to West End shows, back-packs full of treats for Naughty George, a high-definition camera, free lunches at exclusive restaurants, an electronic front door lock, free school uniforms for Izzy, monthly play-packs, Harry Potter previews, and no end of invites to product launches. And that's not a tenth of it.

I even had someone contact me in order to help raise awareness of badgers. Firstly, why do badgers need to be more prevalent in society? Secondly, given that badgers are wild animals and I have never seen one in real-life, how was I supposed to help? All I know about badgers is that after hearing recent news, there is going to be an (apparently mis-guided) planned cull of them to prevent the spread of Tuberculosis. Were they expecting me to twat one with a spade or something?

Anyway, back to the matter in hand. Freebies. I got sent a load of freebies by ASDA this week because they wanted me to feature their Halloween dressing up collection. But in return they also wanted Izzy to write a 200 word Halloween story. I'll let you know how that goes in a later post.

And because I am turning into a fame-hungry media whore (and because Izzy loved what they sent), I am going to succumb and give you a link to their Halloween website ..... Asda Halloween Stuff (opens in a new window).

Pic.No.2 ASDA sent Izzy a fancy dress costume (Corpse Bride), Halloween face paints and a colouring kit

Pic.No.3 Izzy was well happy with her new Halloween gear, and sported a 'Corpse Bride' headband whilst eating her breakfast

Pic.No.4 Izzy chose the make-up that she wanted to wear on Halloween night. I look like that after too much red wine

So all in all, I have to admit that I remain perplexed as to why so many companies would like to advertise their clobber on my blog. Gordon Bennett, maybe spouting random shit could be turned into a proper job?
Pic.No.5 Here is some of the random shit that I have been sent this week

So dahlink, what are you getting up to this weekend? Have you experienced the 'Artic Winds' yet?

They hit Oxford today, but because the sun was out at the same time, I decided to do a final cut of the grass before winter (something I should have done in early October). It was ankle high, and because I had left it so late in the season, it took FOUR hours to cut because it was so wet. And I burned out the motor of the mower because a twig got stuck in it's blades. It was smoking and everything. 

Looking forward to hearing from you my lovely!

Wednesday, 24 October 2012

This week has been sent to 'try' me

Sacre bleu! If I didn't have the mettle of a Grecian warrior, I would have quite simply perished this week.

You know what I mean .... everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. In the UK we call it 'Sod's Law', although I don't know who Sod is, or why his parent's chose to call him that. Or why he had a law named after him. What I do know, is that I have always fancied having a dog called Sod.

It's because you can talk to strangers and say things like, "that's my little Sod over there." Except that I wouldn't say that to old people here (in my small village), because they think that words like 'sod' and 'bloody' are swearing.

I know that from personal experience, because I once said to my elderly neighbour; "avoid the bloody dobbin in that field over there, because it's got murderous bastard hooves."  the minute I said it, I knew I had done wrong. She clasped her hand over her mouth, her eyes widened, and I could almost see the ticker-tape flashing in front of her retina on repeat; ... harlot .....harlot ..... harlot.

That's the countryside for you. It's so .... ummmmm .... genteel. When I lived in London, 'fuck' was a punctuation mark. And no one would have batted an eyelid if I had run around the streets naked. Not that I would mind you, I specifically bought a car so I didn't have to run anywhere.

Bloody hell, I am the queen of digression today. Back to the crap week ..... If you are my friend on Facebook (and if you aren't, why not?!), you will know that things haven't gone to plan, namely:

1. I spilt a litre of milk in my kitchen. And I can safely say that a litre of liquid goes for miles if you drop it in such a way that the plastic bottle explodes (with the liquid going under the cooker, fridge, sideboard and units)

2. I nearly totalled my car when a lorry slammed on the brakes in front of me. In utter horror, I shouted, "I say, Sir! That manoeuvre was terribly dangerous!" ... or words similar to that but maybe containing more 'Fs'.

3. I had an appointment with the Dentist from the film 'Marathon Man'. She managed to stick a pointy probe in every single sensitive, nerve-tingling orifice

Vid.No.1 This was what my Dentist appointment was like .... a bit (thanks to my mate Andy Brierley for the link)

As you can see, the week started out pretty badly. So I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I finally got home yesterday evening. 

I was just about to go inside and relax, when I happened to notice that I had a properly flat tyre on my car. Sacre bleu (mark 2) - had I been bad in a previous life?

So instead of chilling out at home, I had to make a mad dash to the Wheatley Tyre Centre, (I had to put a link in because they are so bloody friendly), where they concluded that the whole tyre was completely knackered because I had driven on it whilst flat. Sacre bleu to the power ten!

Pic.No.1 As you can see, my front tyre has been replaced with spare tyre .... and it is ugly

So dahlink, have you had any challenges this week? And what have you been up to?

Saturday, 20 October 2012

Dead Pet? I've got it covered..... BIG time!

As you may remember, in my last taxidermy post (Dog Sick and Taxidermy gone wrong .... part 3),  I promised you a Grand Finale when it came to making use of dead animals.

Governments are pressing us to become ever more "environmentally friendly", so it makes sense to turn our dead mutts and cats into something fun or useful, rather than consigning them to landfill, or flushing them down the toilet (I did that to a dead goldfish once, but I prefer to think of it more as a Viking ceremony).

Anyway, I was doing a bit of research about innovative uses for dead pets, when I stumbled across a Dutch artist called Bart Jansen. His pet moggy (Orville) was unfortunately squashed by a juggernaut. But after Bart had peeled Orville off the road, and subsequent resuscitation attempts had failed, he made a decision ..... that Orville must live on, in one guise or another.

In a stroke of genius, he decided to capitalise upon Orville's lamentable and procumbent state by ....... turning him into an 'Orvillecopter'.

First of all, Bart stuffed Orville, thoughtfully retaining the characteristics of his flattened demeanour. Then he teamed up with a helicopter expert to attach the flying mechanisms. As Bart said himself, the results were 'artwork'.

And because I am like Mother Theresa (except that I don't wear sackcloth skids), I have got some pictures for you ...........

Pic.No.1 Bart stares lovingly at his four-legged furry friend prior to his virgin flight

Pic.No.2 Orville soars through the air like a mighty eagle, except that eagles don't have electronic cables hanging out of their arses ..... or stabilisers

Pic.No.3 Bart conceded that Orville has grown more intellectually challenging following his sudden demise. "When he was alive, I gave him Kitty treats," Bart said, "but now I have to contend with thermals and cumulus." 

Pic.No.4 Orville undergoing routine maintenance

How cool is Orvillecopter? And the beauty is, that you don't necessarily have to have a dead pet to hand, unlike most taxidermy projects. It would be really easy to improvise using roadkill. Imagine Badgercopter or Squirrelcopter! That would outdo the neighbours ..... unless they were the ambitious type and took things a stage further with Deercopter .... or even Cowcopter.

So dahlink ..... can you out-taxidermy Bart? The gauntlett has been thrown down ........

Thursday, 18 October 2012

Dog Sick and Taxidermy gone wrong ..... Part 3

Hurray! No more posts about my holidays which means that I can go back to doing what I enjoy most ....... talking random shit. Don't get me wrong, I do like writing about holidays, but it always takes ages because there are a squillion images that need editing, and whenever I resolve to do it, a new episode of Dragon's Den or Downton Abbey pops up. And I always succumb because I am probably weaker than Paris Hilton's pelvic floor.

On a totally unrelated note, you will be pleased to hear that after the 'crapping in the kitchen' saga, Naughty George is back to his old self.

After getting up at 7.30 this morning, I went downstairs to make myself a cup of tea. NG hauled himself out of his basket, woofed at me vacuously for 30 seconds whilst I was waiting for the kettle to boil, and then proceeded to spew copiously next to my foot .... heave after gut-wrenching heave.

If I had to pinpoint a positive arising from the general scenario, it was that his puke was very well formed. I could quite clearly make out all the mushrooms he had eaten because they looked like they had just been chopped, except they were tinted a biley-orangey colour.

But perplexedly, I hadn't given him any food with mushrooms in.

What's that all about, then? That's my Georgie ............................

After puke-gate, I decided to do some more research into one of my favourite hobbies .... discovering interesting things you can do with dead pets. After all, it seems such a waste to just bury them. And I have found some cracking uses for our dead companions in the past: 'When Taxidermy goes Wrong' and 'Addicted to Taxidermy: It's Dead Good' (both open in new windows).

And because I am like Ghandi, but with a better hairstyle, I have got some new taxidermy pictures to inspire you when Rover carks it .......

Pic.No.1 Jeez, I have got no idea what this animal is, but I want to put it on a pole outside my front door for comedy value. That'll stop the pizza leaflets

Pic.No.2 Blimey, Someone wanted to hold onto this image of their cat in the litter tray for posterity  ... did they preserve the crap as well?

Pic.No.3 It is wonderful thing seeing birds in their natural habitat, even though one of their heads has fallen off

Pic.No.4  The majestic beauty of a fox in full flight is captured by this skillful taxidermist

Pic.No.5. This is a great idea! No pet would ever be wasted if we all turned them all into a chest of drawers (disclaimer: only try this when they are dead)

Pic.No.6 "What? You want to stuff me?"

Pic.No.7 "RARRRRR! I'm SCARY ...... go away .... or I'll throw a pansy at you ..... RARRR!" The raw power of a bear is captured in this photograph

Pic.No.8 Another great idea. After some preliminary examinations, I have calculated that approximately 80% of dead pets could be made into footstools with their feet at funny angles

Pic.No.9 A natural-looking fox jumping out of a very short, hollowed-out tree stump, as is their wont

Pic.No.10 A Polar Bear with a California Smile .....

But my research has made me happen upon a Grand Finale when it comes to dead animals ...

I am not going to post about it now, but if you let me know what you would do with your dead pet, then I might just think about it.... ha ha ha (evil James Bond Baddy Laugh).

Sunday, 14 October 2012

St Michael's Mount - it's history-tasic!

"Where the bloody  hell have you been?" I hear you cry, "you don't blog, you don't phone and you don't send me flowers."

In my defence, I should point out that I never send anyone flowers. Simply because I could spend the money on more useful gifts like a set of spanners. I know what I would rather have, and suffice to say a bunch of pansies ain't going to help me change a flat tyre.

Back to the matter in hand. The last week or so has been a bit of a blur, comprising lots of random shit, and exacerbated by red wine. I'm telling you, the stress of it all would have found a lesser person wondering naked through the streets of Forest Hill, wringing their hands and mumbling; "where did Bitty go? Where's Bitty?" (P.S. I don't know who Bitty is either.)

Here is an example of some of the random shit ......

Pic.No.1 I am not sure why, but Izzy had to go to school dressed as a viking. She got into character and wanted to pillage Naughty George's dog biscuits. I only lintervened when she wanted to behead him with plastic axe

Pic.No.2 My car suffered a flat battery, and when I opened the bonnet to jump-start it, my iPhone fell out of my pocket and smashed (again). Thank the lord that I had previously treated myself to some jump-leads instead of a bunch of flowers

 Pic.No.3 Izzy's Grandparents came to stay. You've already met them - they are the ones we went to visit in Cyprus, earlier in the year. Grandad Paul looks like Noel Edmunds

Pic.No.4 Grandad Paul and Izzy painstakingly built a lego castle with a wind turbine for power. I asked Izzy to showcase her creation. "Have you got me in the shot Mama?" she asked. I sure had, and she looked like an evangelical preacher with a levitating yellow Paddy hat
Anyway, enough of that random shit, I wanted to finish off this post by showing you some more pictures from my Cornwall holiday (this is the last of the Cornwall series - huzzar! I can do some new stuff tomorrow! Huzzar squared!).  If you can remember, Izzy and I went on holiday to Cormwall with Sarah and her friend, Gary, and on the last day we decided to visit a place called St Michael's Mount.

St Michaels Mount is an island with a Medieval castle built on it's summit. I say 'Medieval', but in reality, it's history spans a huge amount of time

Pic.No.5 This is what St Michael's Mount looks like on the map. It's a blob in the middle of the sea

So I am going to do a bit of history for you. But not too much. If I try to do too much "history", I lose interest and always end up playing Angry Birds on my iPhone. Or even better, that Flight Controller game. I managed to land 32 consecutive aircraft yesterday.

I digress. Back to the history of St Michael's Mount: In 350 BC (yep, before Jeez), the mount was a key port for trading tin to the rest of Europe. In 1135AD the stone church was built on the top. Following that date, there were centuries of scrapping done over the mount, some of which involved the Spanish Armada. The general scrapping ended in 1647 when Colonel John St Aubyn was nominated Captain of the Mount (woof! how many men would like that title?). He bought the Island in 1659, turned it into a private home, and his descendants have lived there ever since (and still do, although they have had to redecorate a number of times).

And because I am like Mother Theresa, except that I don't wear scratchy crackers ...... I have got some pictures for you .........

Pic.No.6 This is St Micheal's Mount. You can only get to it when the tide is out

Pic.No.7 At last! A picture of me ...... and Izzy of course

Pic.No.8 When the tide went out, a causeway (path) was revealed ...... quite a slippery one at that. We had to make sure we had enough time to visit the island before the tide came back in to avoid being stranded

Pic.No.9 One of the first things we encountered when we landed on the island, were numerous references to 'giants'. Here was the 'Giant's Well'

I got a bit curious about the references to Giants, so I did a bit of research ........ and here is the explanation (from the St Michael's Mount website - I nicked it):

"As you start to ascend the path leading to the Castle on St Michael's Mount, you'll walk past the Giant's Well - and a rock called 'The Giant's Heart', which is well marked.  Both these are references to another Cornish legend.  Jack the Giant Killer allegedly dug the well while the evil giant Cormoran was sleeping.  As dawn broke, Jack blew on his horn and when Cormoran woke and rushed towards Jack he was blinded by the sun and he tumbled into the well; his heart flew 50 yards up the hill in the process - and that's the Giant's Heart that is in the stonework to this day.  The well is to be found at OS Map Reference SW515298."

Pic.No.10 This was the marker for the 'Giant's Heart'

Pic.No.11 See that heart-shaped stone in the middle of the picture? Apparently, that's where Jack's heart landed after his encounter with the Giant

Pic.No.12 Enough of the Gianty-shit ....... we finally reached the castle perched upon the top of St Michael's Mount

Pic.No.13 The first room we entered was the study, and it had this marvellous fireplace

Pic.No.14 This was the view from the study window

Pic.No.15 This was the castle library

Pic.No.16 This was one of the Medeival bits (approx 1300AD) - The Great Hall. It was older than that tin of Corned Beef at the back of my cupboard

Pic.No.17 The Medieval dining table (over 700 years old). Definitely not from Ikea

Pic.No.18. In 1641AD, this was the family's Coat of Arms - two dobbins rearing, and some latin shit

Pic.No.19 The view from the castle to Marazion (the village on the mainland)

Pic.No.20 This was the view from the castle ramparts. Man alive, I DO NOT like heights .... and I started feeling all sway-ey

Pic.No.21 This is one of the turrets ..... it was a LOT higher than it looked in the pictures. Sacre Bleu!

Pic.No.22. I loved this: In 1846 Queen Victoria made an impromptu visit to St Michael's Mount whilst passing on the royal yacht, Britannia. The St Aubyns were not at home so she had tea in the Blue Drawing Room

Pic.No.23 I promise, they're 'armless! The Blue Drawing Room with Gothic Rococo styling

Pic.No.24 Hurrah, it's me again! (picture taken by Izzy)

Pic.No.25 The Ginge poses on the ramparts whilst multiple poses are going on in the background

Pic.No.26 Aha, so now we reach the Medieval church ...... it had better be good after climbing up 20 million steps and nearly swooning over the ramparts

Pic.No.27 Ok, yep. It had some lovely stained glass windows

Pic.No.28 A ladee with wings apparently trying to tazer a crim

Pic.No.29 This was the altar. The stained glass was magnificent and the walls were thicker than Mitt Romney

Pic.No.30. After the church, we headed down a number of small corridors adorned with numerous portraits of the St Aubyn family

Pic.No.31 And then we ended up in the Armoury room. There was this Japanese armour on display. But it looked like a taxidermied hamster was modelling it

Pic.No.32 Look at this! it was a window in the Armoury room. The walls were at least six feet thick. That's thicker than Paris Hilton

Pic.No.33 Finally after our tour of the castle, we got to play with the heavy artillery. This is Izzy, with her hero, Gary .......

Pic.No.34 Born free! As free as the wind blows ....... !  It felt like we were on top of the world being so high up in the castle grounds

Pic.No.35. And so we finally descended from the castle on the mount. And following a stroke of genius, we briefly stopped to have a cappuccino in the cafe next to the harbour, before heading home (Izzy is posing next to the cafe wall)

So dahlink, I have two tasks for you: (1). What have you done in the last weekend? and; (2) tell me about the oldest place you have ever visited.

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