Dawn of a New Diet

The sun was attempting to rise as I woke this morning.  I struggled into the light, through aside the hot water bottle, the radio, the empty drinks bottles, the books, the crumbs from supper and the teddy bear and climbed out of bed.  Dressing quickly (I must close those curtains one night) I ventured out into the misty dawn.  A large red disk hung just above the treeline, a 'Blood Sun' to go with the  recent 'Blood Moon.'  The air at seven was quiet and still.  An occasional vehicle passed, one or two cyclists struggling towards work greeted me, a lass passed with her nose in the chilly air.  A squirrel chased something that was not there  while the Rooks strutted importantly about the park stopping now and then to listen and look around them.  
The early morn is such a lovely time of day, unless you are hurrying towards bus, train or work of course.  Only those individuals and a dog walker or two will be spotted, dog nose to the ground, owner wrapped up ready to climb the Eiger!  The freshly cut grass gave of its fragrance, the air itself selling sweet.  High above the blue could be glimpsed trying to break through the mist and as yet no aircraft dared to break the near silence.

 

It was somewhat unfortunate therefore to be reminded of the kiddies who had been screaming late last night when ensconced here in the dark.  I didn't hear them that well last night as I was concentrating on the football but clearly one of them is old enough to obtain several bottles of cheap American beer.  I wondered what their folks would say when they got home.  Indeed did they have a home?  Did anyone at home care?  Maybe they are old enough, so why not drink in a pub I ask myself?  I was 17 years of age before I got my hands on a bottle of beer, one small bottle of  'Sweetheart Stout' then considered a ladies drink but we cared not.  Later I shared a similar small bottle of 'McEwan's Export' with several others, signifying not that we had grown up but that one of the older blokes must have turned his back at the wrong time!  Later, still 17 I took to drinking in the pub outside the brewery where I worked, 'Lager & Lime' was the chosen drink at that time, and I celebrated my 18th birthday there, but got no free drink.  I can see why folks take to this stuff but they appear to get a great deal more than we ever did far too early in my view.  Oh I'm old!

Alas my fuzzy brain failed to experiment enough to get a good capture of the red sun, I ought to have fiddled with the settings, but it does give the impression of the mist that spread itself all over East Anglia hindering the light warming the land.  A dreamy scene in which dark silhouetted figures pass in the far distance dogs trailing behind, occasionally far ahead.  The women gather in groups to gossip and protect themselves from the nasty men who attack them constantly, or so the papers tell us, and the dogs love the get together with others, tails wagging, cheerful yapping and kiss and chase action all over the park.  

Fiddling the bits did give an interesting picture of a historic street.  At least around a thousand years go the Bishop of London took control of half of the town land.  This are was close to where he built his little palace and chapel therefore a road was created to run to it, possible building on an earlier pathway.  Essex was once all forest and it may well have had a path running though here.  The road we see now is the hardened version that came relatively recently but well in time for the nineteenth century revolution in factory life that hit the town.  To the left new houses exist where once Crittall's, famous for their iron window frames, had their large factory, or at least one of their factories.  Many men walked this way to work in the morning, good conditions, good pay, good labour relations and most remained there for life.  During the Great War Crittall's employed two thousand or so women, all paid the same as the men, and behind the houses to the right stood Lake & Elliott's foundry, that too employing thousands and with a gas works so powerful it fired the factory and all of the town as well!  Now all is housing.  Crittall's exists still but shorn of its glory, Lake's 'Jacks' for vehicles were once word famous now dissipated by the fifties influx of foreign competition.  

I then headed home for a breakfast of leftover 'Singapore Noodles' with egg running through it.  Later, some time later, when the sun had turned yellow and rose high in the sky I wandered out once more and accidentally fell into the strange shop in the High Street that sells grossly overpriced health.  I noticed that two employees were very thin and one far from that position but I made nothing of this.  I wandered about chasing away attempts at 'help' and browsed the potions.  At last I found Carol's recommended 'Chia seeds,' and also a mixture of 'Flaxseed & Goji berries,' the Goji I believe being the stuff recommended by 'The Venomous Bead' a while back.  
Being lunchtime I lunched on healthy microwaved porridge with a rather large portion of ''Flaxseed & Goji' upon it, followed by tea with a dose of 'Chia Seeds' thrown in.  This I said to myself with make me healthy, give me vim and vigour, encourage the mind to work, strengthen the muscles and produce energy, something I desperately require at the moment.  I finished my tea and soon fell asleep. 

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