Heart of Midlothian

Once again we see this great football club in a spin!
Romanov, who has always been 'different' in his approach, may have gone too far this time.
Pressley, Gordon and Hartley appear at a press conference and the talk is of 'player unrest.'
Too many mediocre east European players coming in, and this at a time when the squad has never been so strong! Vlads intention to raise young Lithuanians and sell them on is a dud! They are just not good enough. No matter how many Russian coaches he produces they will never replace what is already there!

Will he stay? Yes. Will things improve? Who knows.
Another typical day at Tynecastle!

Strange Flu Symptoms

My friend Blackberry Juniper has been suffering from the strange flu like symptoms that have arisen in recent years. Colds and flu used to arrive in their time, destroy your life for a while, then move on. Now the bug arrives, and lingers. One day, or more, in the throat. One day, or more, in the head. Slowly it moves around the body affecting various parts with malady. This goes on so long that I have suffered one bug for a time and it has rolled into the next one. Why?
Is there a reason for this new style cold? It cannot in truth be called flu, even though we use that name. But it debilitates, causes suffering, and is a nuisance. Symptoms can be dealt with, sometimes. But the disease just will not end!

The Cave of Adullam

The sun shining in the cave opening brightens the whole place. Sunshine, in the worst of circumstances, cheers all things. What a great invention! However, looking round into the hidden depths the environment is far more gloomy. Cobwebs hang in the corners, whole generations of spiders have made their homes here undisturbed. The dank air is suffused with the odour of ageing onion leftovers, the traditional British foodstuff curry, and a wide variety of human foulers that need not be mentioned here!
The rusting washing machine, in good working order until the handle came off, sits sullenly in a recess. The trouble and stress required to have running water installed, or electricity and gas knows no equal. Utility companies, especially privatised money greedy ones, have no concern for 'service' of any kind. A disgrace began by Maggie Thatcher and her money obsessed friends! What passes for a kitchen lies deep under a crust off fallen breadcrumbs, left over pasta, tattie peelings, empty rusting tins, and so on. All coloured by a variety of splashes of sauces which now energetically are turning a bright green with the mould. Maybe I should start a penicillin factory?
The video recorder, which doesn't record, the wireless, with an out of control volume knob, and the broken community of PC's lie covered in a thick gray dust. Newspapers, colour supplements and half read books cover the floor. Mice hold parties in one of the tunnels to the left. Beasties of all sort crawl, wriggle and slime their way around the walls.
It's true what they say. There is no place like home! Well, when the sun shines.

Sick!

Why am I always sick?
I'm convinced these cold symptoms have been with me since 1987! Constantly I am assailed by a bug in the head, or throat or somewhere. An underlying tiredness comes and goes with amazing regularity. WHY? I have tried all the usual things, and one or two unusual, which I won't go into! But again I find myself down with this virus! In days of yore a cold came, caused deathly suffering, and went in three days! Now it comes one long lasting symptom after another and starts after the previous one has just gone.
Good job I'm not one to comlpain.
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Madonna adopts a child from Africa. I hope she does this for the child's sake and not her own. I wonder if the better idea would be to spend some of her wealth enabling the child, and others, to be brought up in their own country? Too often the woman's emotions rule the head. When the woman is a celebrity I think questions need to be asked.
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Think on this. God creates us. Because he is perfect we cannot be near him, so he gives his Son to die for us, as a substitution. Many respond to this grace, and struggling maybe, find a new satisfying life. So how come with all I know, and with all the grace I have received, how come I am so bad? I still want you God. But, well....but......you know.

Writing

This writing lark is not as easy as it looks. I wrote a small item for some friends and when I looked it over I had to make one or two changes. It took several days to complete those changes! As I wrote all seemed well, but later the wonderful text turned into total drivel! Similar happenings occur when I am lying half asleep in my bed. In my mind I write wonderful articles full of drive, inspiration and constructive thinking. By the time I reach the keyboard this has dissipated faster than an ice cream in the desert! Where does it go?
A year or so back I started to write my tome on the Great War. It naturally got forgotten in the rush to make a living and find sufficient sleep at the same time. When it came back to my attention I could not believe what a load of rubbish stared me in the face! I reckon someone had sabotaged my effort!
If you have stumbled through this I congratulate you. I tell you I am not going to re-read it, just in case.

Press Coverage

Never fails to amaze me how the press twist things to suit themselves. Football reporting is the clearest example of tabloid spin imaginable! If the team win by a lucky goal they may well be called 'all conquering' but if they lose that way it is 'shockingly poor!'
Last night England (always shockingly poor it has to be said) lost a second goal from a back pass that bobbled past the keeper. Today it is called 'His mistake' or 'blunder.' But it was neither a blunder or a mistake. Just one of those things that happen. The fact that England are rank rotten (amen) is ignored so long as one man can take the blame. Poor journalism!
Scotland meanwhile did Ok against the Ukraine. However the refs dodgy decisions undid us at the end. No way should Pressley have been sent off. No way was Shevchenkos dive a penalty! But the English press will concentrate on Scotland being beat, not Scotland losing!
Overall while the English struggle to accept they are not one of the worlds top sides, and never have been, Scotlands slow progress from the past few years continues. While there is a long way to go hope is there for the future. The young Scotland sides, Under 19s, 16s etc are doing well.
For us the way is up. Until England accept their failings and lose the needless unjustified arrogance they have only failure ahead. Failure and a long line of scapegoats no doubt.

Some journalists exist. Why is football lacking in them? Why is there so little good football writing? The fanzines of the recent past showed that some folks out there could write. How come the press ignore this and concentrate on 'loving' or 'hating' individuals or clubs?
We deserve better.
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Good also to see the two Irish sides ad Wales sorting themselves out. Northern Ireland in particular are doing well for such a small nation.

Withholding Self From Jesus

For far too many years Jesus has loved me.
For far too many years I have found myself withholding my self from him!
After all he has done, after all those answers to prayer, all the reaching out to me, I sit here in the Adullam cave, keeping myself, and merely existing.
It is one thing when among Gods people to respond, one thing when the Holy Spirit moves on me, but another thing altogether when early morning comes. Then I hold me tight. I want to follow my way. Work may call, things to be done, places to visit, fun to have and Jesus can wait, sometimes for days.
Many times he has been here. Close and real. But have I not clammed up within myself? Have I not withheld my self, me, from him? I use logic and realise I must let go to him. I work it out in my mind, and understand the situation, but hang back. He yearns for my love. He gets offhand responses, unless I am in trouble of course!

Jesus, why must I be like this? I must let go, I must let you, I must..... But I sit in the cave, empty.
I have me, and nothing but....

Muslim veils

Should Muslim women wear veils in the UK?
Well now I think about it the wearing of such veils seems wrong to me. It sets up a barrier between the woman and the world around her. Worse, some wear the vile not because they want to, but because their man dictates that they do. To me that is wrong! It is one thing for a man to want his wife to do something, it is another when she is just an object that belongs to him, as it appears to often to be the case with some immigrant attitudes.
For many years the UK policy has been 'diversity.' That is, encouraging folks who come here to be themselves and feel welcome. However, far too many have misused this, and incomers have become more important than the indigenous population! No wonder the BNP find a following!
It is time people were treated equally and as 'people' not objects! Immigrants ought to learn the so called 'British way of life.' By doing this they, as the majority are already doing, are able to keep most of the lifestyle they have left and enjoy the fruits of work in this nation. Very good too!
But some seem determined to live their way, and claim racism when they are opposed. Too bad I say. These are the vociferous minority, and must be listened to, but disagreed with. One sign of such people is the vile. It is not a Muslim religious necessity, but a cultural one, and as this is not British culture it needs removal!
Democratic we may be, but pragmatism in all things is needful.
Should Muslims be free to follow Islam? Yes! But the veil should be removed, now!

Hard Work Looking For Work!

Looking for work is harder than working, especially when there are limits in what you can do.
So I buy the relevant papers, lookup the pertinent websites, and ask around, or network as they call it now, in order to see what might be available.
But depression is not far away.
Why? No matter how good or bad you are. No matter your age, talent, knowledge, experience and willingness there is always the problem that suitable employment just does not exist!
If you have a degree employers think you are 'over qualified for the job. If you are like me, you have not got enough qualifications! You can be to old or young, even though they will not say so now, too inexperienced, or wrongly experienced. There may be something you lack, in my case a driving license, or the distance is too much. Disability, as with my arthritic knee, will be a problem, however some look for a disabled employee to make it look like the company 'cares!'
And in the end, the money is poor. Round here anyway.
One major problem is caused by living in a small town. Even major cities can make job finding difficult, but little market towns leave little leeway for those with few skills.
So, if you know of a vacancy for a no nothing who likes photography, history, football (naturally) and is trained only in humping things, who is not keen on dealing with people, wants to work more or less on his own, is broke, can't drive, and is a headcase, please call!
I sit here in my depression, waiting.

Somerfields

Yesterday I went to Somerfields. I go there in the middle of the day because it is always empty. The poor quality of the goods and the cheap, off hand staff make it by far the least of the supermarkets in the town, if not the country! However it was mid morning when I turned up there. Lo and behold it was stuffed full of staff, all running around like headless chickens shelf filling! Never before have I seen so many workers in Somerfields.
The customer count was high also, with some folks doing the weekly, or is it monthly shop that morning. Imagine, buying every thing you need from this store! Jings! But here once again the true nature of the store showed through. While the chickens filled the shelves no-one bothered to serve the customers! Only two tills were opened, both staffed by unsmiling snails. Here also Somerfields absurd checkout system shows its weakness. The far too small, and clearly cheap, bags hang on rails at the end of the far too small checkout. While the goods pile up folks struggle to fill the bags and get on their way. This is excaberated by the fact that most are female, and as you know, slow at everything that requires simple logic
I headed for the cigarette kiosk where small baskets can be served. No quicker, and the glum fat sixteen year old, more intent on getting home to watch some imitation Oprah type programme, was doing her best while other staff bundled around beside her helping no-one and doing less.
Somerfields, the down market, less classy store! I wonder if they ever ask themselves why Tesco make a £billion half year profit eh?