Market

Rather a dreich day for the market to make a special effort today.  Cloud overhead and spots of rain at times spoiling the market.  Several new stalls selling overpriced food to hungry customers, a bread stall selling bread at £3:50 a go, it's £1:30 in Tesco, and cakes etc at £2 a time.  I know the stuff is good but my wallet made me avoid the area where the food outlets gathered. I also avoided my fruit & veg stall as I feel guilty about buying stuff in Tesco during the week.

The last market failed miserably as poor organisation, including not replacing the organiser, led to many complaints and how these townsfolk like to complain.  A better effort even if the weather failed to comply.  I suppose as it is a holiday weekend we ought to expect such weather.

   
A collection of 'vintage vehicles' was promised and these few turned up.  I suspect more would have come if the sun shone but who wishes to get an expensive old vehicle covered in raindrops?  This mid 70's Bentley caught my eye however these were not among the best produced so I did not make him an offer.  I noticed the Morris Cowley at the end and it reminded me of the old matron at Maida Vale.  When she came over from the main hospital she drove her Sunbeam Car dating from 1926 which looked similar in general shape to this Morris.  I suspect it was a family heirloom but I forgot the history.  Whenever she arrived it was imperative to allow the wards to know she was here and then talk about the car/weather/life for a few minutes while they nurse hid things that ought to be hidden!  I'm sure she never guessed...

In the 50's these Wolesley's were the main police patrol car.  This was fine until Jaguar produced their Mark V (I think) seen above as the gangsters being chased had a huge advantage of speed over the cops.  Soon enough the black Wolesley's were replaced by Jaguars, white ones in Edinburgh.  The police were happy enough with this but criminals were not so keen.
A small improvement to the market, reducing prices for stalls might be a better one of course, and shoppers buying from them instead of Tesco might also be a good idea.  I, it must be said, went into Tesco, there I almost had a heart attack, there were NO chips!  The fridge was empty!  Looking around I found some hidden in a corner but the entire are was bereft of chips!  Someone suggested fish & chips eaten by Catholics meant they run out but that does not ring true, it does not happen at other times.  I had to stop shaking before I went to the checkout, imagine no chips!  I could die!
er, I am off to eat some now so I will have to die another way...

    

Good Friday

Butchering

Amazon

I've finished a book!  This to me is a great surprise as I had six given to me at Christmas, and a large book token, and so far I had only read three small ones and one paperback.  I have been so lazy busy doing other things I did not get time to read properly.
I was a bit taken aback by this one.  While I have worked in hospitals I avoided things like blood and gore as much as I could leaving that to the professionals to clean up.  This book takes us into the macabre surgical world of the 19th century and tells of the wonderful discovery of ether, later chloroform, to knock people out while operations took place and then on into the efforts of one Joseph Lister to clean things up.
Operations, whether with or without ether, took place on filthy tables in filthy hospitals where the speed of the surgeon cutting a leg off was more important than anything else.  No one comprehended germs and hygiene was considered needless.  The operation was watched by medical students, several assistants participated and cleaning was limited to removing blood quickly rather than keeping patients healthy.  Many died. Many of the surgeons and students also died having picked up diseases from the patients who in many cases were of the poorest calibre and not very clean either.  The richer classes could be treated at home on the kitchen table as this was considered better.  Hospitals were for the poor.  
Lister learned much in London but moved to Edinburgh which was much better surely?  He learned much from the famous Professor James Syme who not only took him on as assistant recognising his qualities as a surgeon but allowed him to marry his daughter.  Later however Lister moved to the filthy Glasgow Infirmary leaving behind the filthy Edinburgh Infirmary which he had somewhat improved.  Glasgow was not keen on his ideas as numbers of patients treated meant cash and cleaning the hospital was not seen as important to the management.  
All this time Lister had been seeking to improve surgical results and his use of the microscope, much derided by many, and his later knowledge of the work of Louis Pasteur led him to understand germs existed, few wished to believe him.  He discovered, after many failures, that Carbolic Acid could be used to heal patients.  His experiments produced results but the medical world did not run after his findings.  How often science is proved to be true but scientists will not accept the results because they do not wish to hear the results?  It took years before people accepted his work and in the end all hospitals improved their cleanliness, surgeons and others accepted the existence of 'germs' and hygiene was improved in all hospitals.   Patients no longer entered hospitals expecting to die most now lived and hygiene and Listers use of carbolic acid on dressings that was responsible.  Clearly I have condensed a lifetimes work which took much long study, many experiments on patients, including his sister and later in life Queen Victoria, and long years of struggle against the perceived wisdom of the medical world.  Nothing is easy in this life even for a genius.
From his research others developed items such a carbolic soap and even 'Listerene,'  this was developed from several other uses that failed but has since become popular, and the Johnson brothers began to develop re-packaged dressings and became famous as 'Johnson & Johnson.  We owe much to the man who discovered ether for taking away the pain and we owe much to Joseph Lister, a humble man who treated rich and poor alike, for developing such surgical skill and after care that healed instead of killed.

Walk?

This is a story of a postman who used to walk around the villages north of the town.  He retired in 1833 having felt the job was beginning to get too much for him.  I am not surprised! 
"From May 1803, at 4 days a week till Oct1811, then until 1833 at 6 days a week, absent but 5 days with permission, 5 off sick. He walked 26 miles a day round the villages for 8,673 days, all 225,498 miles. Now 54 feeling himself declining and not equal to the task he retires."
Samuel Wyatt, walked from Braintree to Rayne, Saling, Bardfield, Finchingfield, and Weathersfield.  Simple enough today in the days of the motor car polluting the air but this walk does not take into account the state of the road, mostly mud tracks, nor does it mention the weather, hot in summer freezing cold and or wet in winter.  In between the villages and houses here and there would be little shelter during a storm.  Of course the villages were less well populated and the majority were if not in shops or skilled trade working on the farm and the amount of letters and parcels would therefore not be great.  However he still had to do the walking, up hill and down slope, day after day.  
I am sure he was fed and watered along the way, there are many pubs he had to visit and summer time must have seen him spend a penny or two in those places, however I suspect anything he drank there may be free and a jolly good place to rest awhile.
Today such places are divided between several postmen, each with his own van and with less chance of drinking time between villages.  One village a few years ago saw the postman walk ten miles around the village and the houses slightly apart, another that I delivered to took the postman in days gone by one bag and a long walk.  When I done that walk it took four heavy bags of around 20 kilos and today that also is done by van, the villages grow as fast as the towns.
This postman's job has similar conditions to many of that time, and he probably thought he was doing well as he was outside and master of his own work to some extent.  Those in factories would work 12 hour days, men, women and child, for a few shillings a week.  Not all employers were careful about their employees and keeping a job was not always easy.  Yet 96 or more hours a week was a common sight right up to near the end of the 19th century, around the world this is still a common sight in some places.
After he retired he got a certificate for good behaviour and as a memento, nothing is said about a reward.  I wonder what he did after that?  Did it involve walking?  He retired at 54 from the GPO as it then was and how long did he live afterwards?  He must have retained fitness for some time and I wish I knew more about him.  I had a quick search but he does not appear to have been born or died!  At least the post got through.

 

Old Photos

Stupidity runs in our family.  I fear for my idiot nephew if he has inherited the genes that have caused s much distress in this world.  I mean I sat for some time tonight fretting that I could not get BBC Scotland to work properly on my laptop.  There are two options and neither worked.  It took me some time to realise that what I was looking for was not taking place.  I wanted the Scotland v Hungary match live and I was indeed in the right place for this it is just that this is Monday night and the game takes place on Tuesday!
This is not the first time I have not realised what day it is.  Indeed the clocks went forward on Sunday and as I awoke I heard the man on the radio give the time, I therefore rose and some time later realised all the clocks were an hour behind.  It took about an hour before I realised the clocks had gone forward and I didn't know.
I wonder if matron will keep me in this week...?  

I had to look out a photo for a friend, OK for an acquaintance, and found several somewhat dingy pictures taken at the beach one pink sky night many years ago.  I wonder if I used the 'Zorki 4' but I suspect this was the 'Zenit 'E'' that my brother gave me.  A wonderful camera which was dying long before I got my mitts on it.  However it gave me much fun and sometimes properly exposed pictures, and the results of our time at the seaside was good considering the pinkish twilight.  

Browsing old photos can be a daunting experience.  While many good memories and people appear there are also many faces, some long forgotten, who bring memories not always pleasant back to mind.  Long lost loves, I have hundreds, good people who have moved or passed on, good places now altered for ever and bad places that still haunt the mind.  One unfortunate aspect is the undeniable fact that this shows me forty years have passed and I have wasted much of that time, this is one of the problems of getting old.

 
Another problem is the old albums as they fall apart.  Glue used on pics dies and photos fall out, those plastic covers on some albums, the covers that are supposed to keep the pictures there for ever have faded and come lose and whenever the album is lifted several minutes pass as a search under the furniture for fallen pictures ensues.  Of course once they are all digitalised this will not be a problem, unless the 'delete' button is hit by mistake.
Right, now I have left a morose emotion in your head I will retire to contemplate my naval while seeking sleep.  I need sleep for my mind requires much input from nourishment and sleep these days.  

Palm Sunday with Jesus

An interesting Palm Sunday.  Once these were 'religious services' soon forgotten.  Today we had one that the kids will remember for a while, one they enjoyed.  Resetting the seats to form a central area allowed room for Jesus to parade.  On arrival Jesus was not expecting to parade but the eight year old entered to be volunteered to play Jesus.  Dressing in white surplice, large beard and vast wig Jesus spent the entire morning parading (over the curates cloak) into Jerusalem while other kids, one or two quite old ones, waved palms and other suitable accoutrements and sang and cheered along.
The congregation was also forced into readings, songs, and short discourse all of which told the story of Jesus triumphant entry into Jerusalem, an triumph that did not fool him, and brought about his death a week later.  How quickly people turn.  Those that love you today do not do so tomorrow.  Football managers and politicians note that daily.  Never rely on peoples opinion of you because tomorrow it will change when they decide you are not what they want you to be.
Jesus was not on for show, he did not come to gloat among his followers, he was however forcing the issue with the religious leaders and making them decide whether they would accept his claim to be the Son of God come to claim his people or not.  The leaders reject him knowing he was indeed God preferring to keep control themselves and in so doing lost their souls.
Many cheering him that day would do so also.
This week many will look forward to chocolate eggs, holidays but few will look to the reason for the season.

XL or XXL?

Size is important!  What is more important is getting it right.  
Yesterday I bought a cheap (in M&S mark you) pullover.  The size claimed to be XL which would suit my feeble frame.  Once home I tried on this made in Bangladesh bargain t be reminded that what is 'XL' in Bangladesh is either 'L' or 'M' here!  I hobbled back today and exchanged for an 'XXL' size which in fact just does the job, however a 'XXXL' which was there yesterday might have been a better option.
Why don't things fit?  I am convinced that in the past things fitted better.  Of course cynics might say that is because my mum was buying for me however for fifty years I have bought for myself and things these days do not fit like they used to.  For a start there are different measurements to watch out for, M&S leg lengths come in 29, 31, & 33, while other folks are 30, 32, 34, which appears to me to make more sense, maybe there is a reason for this?
That aside the decision to outsource all clothing to the far east has seen a decrease in standards and all the main shops do this and then charge very high prices for their goods.  The sweatshop workers I am sure are happy to earn a few coins making clothes that are too big for them while the bosses line their pockets but not as well as the directors of our main street stores are doing I suspect.  'Primark' appears to be the only shop that sells similar goods at cheap prices and they still make a vast profit, where are the others going wrong?  Don't mention quality that varies little in my view.  
Sad to say that when 'XL' shirts are tight this means these things are shrinking after each wash or while hanging up in the cupboard they shrink even more, I wonder why...

Lucky for me all this is enabled by the Free Bus!  The council installed one of those shopping centres that specialise in 'Outlets' for big companies, outlet being another word for 'stuff that didn't sell.'  This would be useful if such folks reduced the prices to a sensible level however this does not happen.  'Levis' (or Wrangler) were things we used to wear constantly, either jeans or cords.  I wore such for thirty years yet today I cannot afford them and go for Tesco (far east) cheap ones, if they have any that fit!  The Levi shop here offers bargains such as 'Two Pair for £99!'  They appear to think this a bargain!  What gets me is that this shop has been doing this for several years and is still going strong, who is buying such bargains?  OK many of these shops are 'loss leaders' but even so someone is buying and considers themselves lucky to obtain bargains!  
Me, I'm going to look again at Tesco clothing....

Football...

Sitting here drinking my honey filled light Horlicks I am enjoying watching Scotland play Costa Rica.  Asalways with Scotland the word 'enjoy' is notto be taken seriously.  
For a start I have to seek out a stream to watch this game.  While England fans have the dubious option of watching their losers on ITV Scots cannot do this, I expect however STV will be showing the England game to rub this in.  So folks like me who canny afford 'SKY' have to seek out one of those horrid streams that convey the game to us poor folks, this I have found on malware full 'First Row' and a blessing to go with this is the lack of commentary!  No blethering numpty to fill the screen with needless words and talk about a different game from the one I watch.
Of course with another of the 'Old Firm' Glasgow Mafia leading the team it is no surprise to find many of his 'friends' in the side, including a goalkeeper who is second choise at his own team to a better Scots goalie who has not been brought into the squad!  We need not mention Charlie Mulgrew who has only one left foot and keptputting the ball onto hisright in the first half.  Overall this was nothing special as a game, Costa Rica are preparing for the World Cup in Russia while we are rebuilding once again and the result does not matter but individual performances do.  McBurnie at centre looked OK as did McTimanay or whatever his name is in midfield.  Both have lots to learn but did no bad.  McGinn of Hibs appeared and committed more fouls in ten minutes than most do in 90! 
We did make some chances and miss them, they only made one in the second half and hit the bar so in the end I am not to unhappy with this mishmash of a side mainly because theyoung lads did OK.
This is not the first time we have met Costa Rica, during Italia 90 we managed to laugh at this small nation far away and rejoiced at meeeting them.  We lost one nil.  This however has not led some, especially the hacks, to continue regarding such sides as 'small teams' while we are a big one.  That attitude has failed us so often in qualifying for tournaments that you might think it had gone, it hasn't and tonight will not see an end of such arrogance.

Work!

As I was choking on my morning toast I was disturbed by a call from the museum designed to ruin my day off.  The knees quavered at the thought of going out today but the lass on afternoon shift had claimed sickness and was refusing to put it aside and do her duty.  So because an attractive young woman called me out of my bed I went in this afternoon.  
This of course ruined my day.
Instead of lounging around at home I had to lounge around in the museum all afternoon.
Few people arrived even though it is market day.  One or two did pop in but fewer than I hoped.

 
However the exhibition on '60's, 70's and 80's,' has been popular as many here remember the US based at Wethersfield Airbase just up the road.  The US have been hanging around here since 1942 and many have experience of them in wartime and during the 'Cold War.'  The Yanks left some time ago as the 'Berlin Wall' came down but once Donald Trump is removed it may be they will make their way back again as Putin continues his gangster operation on the west.  
An enormous number of airmen and their crew married local girls, bus loads used to arrive from as far away as Ipswich, and a large number remained in the UK after their service was over.  Occasionally they arrive in the museum.  It amazes me how many nuclear bombs were stored not far from my house.  One big Soviet one and much of this area would have been unusable for decades.  Nowadays there is little fear from the 'superpowers' bombing one another it is the little man with a suitcase full of 'small nuclear bomb' that is a concern.
Sleep well.

I am surprised however that these books have not sold.  I think one of the books on the right has gone but none of the 'Suffragettes' book have been sold and that only costs £1.  Possibly the girls are all at home making their men's tea as they ought to be?

First Day of Spring

Spring music for the official first day of Spring. 

Naturally the sun is shining and the wind is just above freezing, as it is in Spring.  All day people have walked around almost smiling as they considered the worst has passed.  Maybe they are right but as we know another day or two of snow and storm will appear before May.  

The weathermen use the 1st of March as the beginning of Spring for reasons unknown but this time of the year is when the hemispheres share the change over, in the north Spring begins while in the south Autumn arrives.  I read that the cuneiform tablet shown above speaks of this event.  This dates form around 3000 years ago, most likely from Ashurbanipal's library in  Nineveh, Assyria.  

The King liked to gather information that would help him run his kingdom, he lasted around 40 years and built up a large Assyrian Empire so he learnt well.  This king not only gathered information it is possible he was academically inclined, unlike some of his kind.  As is the way he obtained high office when the legitimate heir died and he was selected to the position, a good decision it turns out.

The scribes and learned men in Babylon might not have thought so however, Ashurbanipal's desire to know more led him to take such men into Nineveh and make them write out all the knowledge they had.  To ensure they reluctant ones did so he chained them there until they had furnished him with knowledge.

The Babylon folks did not take kindly to their northern neighbours and once Ashurbanipal had gone the Assyrian Empire went into decline.  Another couple of Kings later and an uprising from the south saw an end of the Assyrians empire making for good.  

Down there in far off Mesopotamia (the land between two rivers) the people five thousand and more years BC were happily working out the earth was round, the times table and other difficult maths (they taught the Greeks) and building high Ziggerat temples and other buildings, often just from mud brick, long before most of us considered such things important.

Staring up into the sky their 'Magi' would soon learn the movement of the stars and planets (would they know the difference I wonder?) and interpreting the movements as indication of events on earth.  They would not tell you a 'tall dark man will come to your door on Tuesday' however that is the stuff of girlies magazines not the real world.  Clear skies in the night sky would allow a wonderful panorama above and these men would quickly learn the change of the seasons.  Their understanding from away back is still relevant today (they gave us '60' for minutes in the day) and recognising Spring would be a reason for a celebration I would think.

Spring is here, the skies are bluer, the early morning brighter, now we can enjoy it as the weather improves.

'Snowed in' Saturday

I am enjoying our latest attempt at being snowed in.  This however is fine by me after the trip into the Midlands I am happy to watch small, slushy flakes of snow littering the world.  Yet another brief interlude of snow for a day or two, not unusual for March. 
So I sit here writing emails regarding the events in the Midlands.  Funerals are strange events, this one involved a burial, quite why my brother wished this I am not sure, maybe he just wishes us to take long trips out of our way to stand in the rain and wind remembering him, it would be his type of humour!  As it was the day was bright, the sun shone and took the edge of the chill wind arriving from the east.  

The travel included passing through St Pancras station.  The last time I was there was about 30 years ago and how it has changed.  Having struggled through the underground I now walked about a mile or more past these grossly overpriced shops in this brightly lit tourist filled mall.  Not only was this not here 30 years ago I did not realise where the platforms were!  "Upstairs!" he said knowing I didn't believe him.  However after walking back the way I came clutching my ticket I found an escalator going upwards.  The nearest one much to my by now tired bodies dismay came downwards.  Only upstairs did I understand the layout of the station here under the huge cavernous space I realised the platforms had moved bar the ones on the far side now used by the Eurostar trains, the reuse of the undercroft, once used to hold major beer haulage as it was transported around the country, for the mall is a sensible way to gather money.
St Pancras apparently was a 14 year old Christian who Diocletian had executed for his faith.  No, I had not heard of him either.  Pancras means 'The one that holds everything' whatever that means.
During 1868 the first train, the overnight mail from Leeds, arrived at St Pancras Station  stopping under the vast metal and glass roof designed by Barlow & Ordish that has the largest span in the world.  

The 'Midland Railway' built the line and in 1923 joined with the 'London and North Western Railway' plus the 'Lancashire & Yorkshire Railway' to form the famous 'London, Midland & Scottish' Railway Company (LMS).  These maroon coloured engines hauled their fare through the middle of the country.  This came to an end with welcome nationalisation in 1948 when 'British Railways' came into being.  Only nationalised railways can serve the nation as privatised ones merely take the money out of the governments generous purse and keep it to the few at the top.

 
To hide the train shed the Midland railway opened the fabulous station hotel built across the from of the entrance.  This is a tourist site in itself!  It has been said that Sir George Gilbert Scott originally had this design for the Foreign Office but the then Prime Minister Lord Palmerston would not accept any 'Gothic' design.  In stead he insisted on a 'Greek' model and this indeed is what Scott built for him.  However when asked to create a hotel for the Midland Railway he merely took his design, moved the centre tower to a position to the end of the building and created this masterpiece.  Today just walking through the station now it has been renovated takes the breathe away.  I have been inside the building many years ago when it was being used by BT among others.  Even among the accumulated crud of years it was possible to see the fantastic quality of this building.  The hotel failed in 1935 and became LMS railway offices remaining in lean condition until reopened recently as the St Pancras Renaissance Hotel.  Of course I cannot afford to stay there!

The Hind Hotel in Wellingborough has recently been given a new owner, this is good as it is in much need of refurbishment.  Meeting the rest of the family who managed to make it we found the staff very friendly, helpful and capable on the late shift.  This was the hotels strongest point in my view.  As a three star hotel it was acceptable, everything worked, effort had been made to keep it clean and usable and my knees were delighted to climb the ancient wooden stairs to the second floor.  The lassie on the desk helpfully offered to carry my bag 'if I needed help!'  Grump!

The 'Hind Hotel' was built by Lord Hatton a courtier of Queen Elizabeth who had a hind on his coat of arms.  He became a loyal courtier of Elizabeth and was granted much by her and in time reached as high a position as Lord Chancellor.  It did not stop him dying with great debts, these folks knew how to lose money.  The Hind was built in 'Jacobean style' at a time when Lizzie was trying to ensure Catholics did not return to power yet Hatton remained one of her favourites.  Originally the building offered hospitality possibly to those visiting the nearby abbey and they claim evidence Cromwell slept here before the Battle of Naseby.  Cromwell, like Elizabeth, slept in many more places than he actually visited of course. 

The wooden doors, stairs, bannisters alongside the remains of the coloured glass in the windows indicates something of the quality of the original building.  Once the refurbishment is complete this will be an outstanding building.

  
This was one of the fireplaces this time referencing Victoria though it is not possible to say when it was installed.  Now used as a breakfast room and as you can see polished often!

I thought the rooms decent enough though in one or two places the paper was beginning to come away.  This made the place feel just like home!  TV at the far end where my eyes could not reach was irrelevant as I never watch it anyway however I did consider installing a radio by the bed would have been a good idea as I listen to that.

The weather remained fine for the funeral, the wind eased by the sunshine and the short service led by a man who was not a 'Humanist' as one thought but a 'Spiritual Atheist.'  A what?  Yes I wondered also however he was raised in a proper evangelical background and now (I think having retired) he had begun to doubt his faith and the biblical view.  Listening to him as we talked at the buffet (wake to you) in the 'Stags Head,' a lovely pub, I got the impression it was not a lack of belief but the fact he may have been gay and was attempting to fit that with reality, it will however not work.   I could not help but like this man who took trouble to understand my brother and thoughtfully led the service.   

A handful of people from my brothers past attended and it was good to hear stories untold by him.  I was not aware that at his work on your birthday you brought n a bottle of whisky which was empty by closing time.  Nor was I aware that he stood the bottle upside down just to ensure he got the dregs from the bottle and obtained his monies worth.  This is not a  family habit...  

   
I journeyed back with two soprano's, friends of my talented niece who she often does concerts with, and once again visited St Pancras.  This time I wandered around the station and at the base of the needless slushy statue of a couple kissing hello or goodbye found these carvings at the bottom.  All round the base several carvings in what looks like brass appear telling stories of those who have  passed through.  The pictures a re lighter than reality.

Troop trains must have carried thousands of men from this station, not all going abroad of course, many training in various parts of the land.  Others were returning from far off, some wounded, and on both occasions relatives may well have watched the comings and goings with worried thoughts.

This looks like a 'tramp,' or 'homeless' as we must call them today, it could indeed be a 'bag lady' but I do not know the story connected.  This is a shame as the dog alongside has been well loved by kids and others passing by.

The photo does not do this justice but I plead tiredness and desperation to get to the Tube for my next train.  Clearly this one is popular and the head well rubbed.  I suppose it was a local who lived near, in or under the station at one time, possibly someone will know.

 
It is just not possible to picture this magnificent building from the ground.  You must get high up and find a decent position.  Standing on a Friday afternoon with around a million people roaming around is not the ideal way to take photographs.  

 
It is even harder with a man asking for money for food and failing to get some as he was in my view influenced by drugs/drink and just not getting any from anyone.  It is easy to feel guilty by not helping but easing your conscience will not help him and if you really wish to help I say give to one of the many organisations that work among sch folks, then those in need will get help.

Then it was home with one more change arriving in time for tea.  However I could not get my knees interested in heading to the shops so made do with anything lying around.  Luckily I had thought cleverly enough to get something in and leave it for my return, it did not feel anything like enough.
I keep trying to get fit and keep failing, this journey revealed just how unfit I am and I must do something about this and will start this possibly on Wednesday, if I have the energy... 

Space Filling Post

On Thursday morning I will head down to this glorious station in London while making my way towards my brothers funeral on Friday.  This means travelling via underground to Kings Cross, walking through to St Pancras where I will entrain for the Midlands.  What a roundabout route to get there and this could be avoided if I was rich enough to own a car and drive up in a couple of hours.
How lucky the rich can be!  Of course if the roads are busy it could take a lot longer to get there an the possibility of an accident, much, much less likely on the railways, will always pose a hazard that can take hours to bypass.  I suppose rail has its advantages.
While my niece has the job of arranging things I also have to arrange myself for this.  For this reason I spent yesterday rushing here and there for this and that and I am left flat by evening when I would much rather have spent my day lying about the house in a manner to which I have become accustomed.

Today was a mostly quiet day in the museum where I noted how the bug that left me weary last week was still hanging around, I hope it goes soon, I don't want to travel like this!  Work however was quit today, a couple of visitors a couple of shoppers and one or two queries but not much else.  In spite of this workload I managed to read the 'Friends of the Museum'  magazine which was interesting, unlike this bile.  
Now I am sitting here unwilling to answer all those emails that sit awaiting reply.  This involves thinking, writing, amending the spelling and wondering why did I say what I did?  Email is without a doubt the greatest boon to communication.  Not only is there almost instant contact but you can put in writing what takes ages on the phone and costs a lot of money.   It certainly takes longer to write some things but on the phone dealing with a woman takes even longer!  A ten minute email against a twenty minute call in which she asks at the end for written confirmation is a joy to behold.  Much better to send email and let her call to ask you to explain slowly.  
Ah wimmin, what trouble they cause.  One chap today has a cleaning job in a school in a town not far away.  He was off today to see a lawyer re the treatment he gets there.  Clearly they don't like him and it is probably his sense of humour that is responsible.  Women do not take kindly to humour men participate in daily, their poor wee feelings get upset and we are supposed to run after them, I never do.  They demand equality and then demand we do everything their way, this is not what I would call democracy.   Putting them back in my kitchen might be a good use for them mind...