Hogmanay 2020

 

 

Hogmanay, as you know, is not New Year!

Hogmanay is the day before the New Year, it remains Hogmanay until midnight on the 31st and at the first 'dong' of the midnight chime the New Year has begun.  Out side of the Free World people these days wish one another a Happy New Year days in advance of the time.  Typical English, never get anything right.  

In oor hoose, Hogmanay was merely the time to gather the family and occasional friend, ensure everything was ready, piles of drinks for young and old, it was the only time my folks drank and my folks did not get drunk.  Although I have just remembered my sisters giving mum 'Brandy & Babycham' one year and had her giggling all night over nothing.  Dad was wary of drink, in spite of twice being in the army, his dad had been too accustomed to the beer and lost jobs several times because of this.  Dad had not forgotten his mothers warnings.  Mind you, mum always said she liked a drink anyway, that is where Granddad and her first met, in a pub!

After midnight, we await the first foot.  This tall, dark, handsome person (sorry I am unavailable) will be the 'first foot,' and bring you good luck.  He will also bring coal, to ensure you are warm, Black Bun and whisky to ensure you are fed.  I accidentally stepped out one year and back in, thus being our 'first foot.'  "You will not bring us luck!" was the cry - and they were right!  

It is also important to clean the house, this dates back to the idea of clearing out the devil before the new year comes.  Such superstitions are nonsense so I just no longer clean up before New Year.  No change there!

 

Sadly, while the 'Viking' whisky arrived the Black Bun has been unobtainable this year, another result of Covid.  However, while Tesco Christmas Cake sits in for Black Bun my niece sent, by 'Hermes' messenger no less, one small forgotten portion of my Christmas, a 'Lump  of Coal' soap!  She knows how I live!  Noticeable that he was an Englishman.  These days unemployment is forcing men to work for 'Hermes' and other delivery vans, the Romanians and Bulgarians will not be best pleased. 

Following Dave's command to get out I wandered, frozen, across the frost covered park this morning, my fingers nipping in the cold air.  Very New Year weather.  We are lucky, up north a couple of inches of snow lies all around, endangering folks like me and other sensible ones who hate the cold, slippery stuff.  

Almost all England is now Tier 4, the rest will follow soon, and 'Lock Down' after that, so the town was quiet with one or two awaiting entrance at Banks and the like.  I actually entered the Bank, when the young lady freezing on guard let me, to make use of a machine and insert a cheque given at Christmas. This is about the only time I enter this bank, the 'Hole in the Wall' machine (invented by a Scotsman) does the job for me usually.

Few people around, though some queued at Tesco as it is closed tomorrow, Sainsburys will be open. Usually one opens while the other closes at such times.  Nothing apart from Muslim corner shops will open in Scotland tomorrow!   I hobbled home, picked up the mail struggled up the stairs, all Dave's fault, and soon after was fast asleep.  All this exercise at years end, it's tiring.

 

This year has been bad for us all.  I started with that cold that began in December, lasted until April come May and then 'Lock Down' had begun.  On top of this there was the laptop explosion, the trouble with replacements, the trouble with this one and eventually some form of peace.  Once all began to settle the washing machine went bang, well, 'crack' actually.  So in the end all the money I saved by buying less during 'Lock Down,' the money saved by not going anywhere and spending on shiney things was all lost on both Christmas, the Laptop and the new washing machine.  Good job I'm not one to complain!  

The church is once again closed up for the duration, people with sense are in fear of the virus, and most now put their hopes in this vaccine, if it works.  However, if it works it is unlikely this government in England will be able to distribute it to those in need properly, already the second dose has been postponed, causing much trouble for surgeries.  

For me the year ends well, Jesus has made it clear I must be in St Paul's, this means they may not be happy of course, and the future with him looks bright, this usually means someone will oppose us, Halleluiah!  

May you all have a better year next year...

 

Moon Wednesday

 

This 'impressionist' capture of the moon (by 'impressionist' I mean 'blurred.') Is the only photo today.  Apart from a run to a busy Tesco, never go near at lunchtime, for milk I have not had the energy today to do anything.  All the overeating has caught up with me.  The half stone I had lost has halved and weight is gaining on me, not that the Christmas cake had anything to do with that, it was only a small one, well, both of them were, but too much of the chicken has affected me.

Many are back at work yet the county is quiet.  Most remain indoors, but will they do so next week when almost normal life returns?  I think my neighbours are working but many have closed down for the week.  

 

This scruffy creature is the man responsible for the new 'Deal' which from January 1st will make this nation poorer.  No PM since Walpole has gone out of his way to make the country impoverished rather than wealthier than this man.  All this for his ego, all this just to be PM!  This liar, this fraud, this cheat has destroyed the lives of millions by his selfish gain.  I look forward to Scotland's coming independence, to Northern Ireland joining the Republic, and Boris running (with his cash) for the nearest fridge in which to hide.

The Commons voted for the Deal like Lemmings going over the cliff by 521 to 73.  Labour, or 'Tory 2' as they ought to be called, went along with their gangster pals and fell at Boris's feet.  No matter that opposing the Deal meant little, they ought to have stood up against it.  One day they will have a Leader, One day they will have a policy.

 

 

 

Bored or Confused?

Amazing as it is, I am bored.

Yes, I may have 12 books to read but I am not in the book reading mood.  I wish to go outside and wander in the sunshine, except there is no sunshine, again!  A wander today would only be over the usual paths anyway.  And this bores me.  I have been over them countless times and it is an empty town with few highlights missed.  There is nothing new in this small town, nothing new to photograph, nothing new to see bar continuing road works and a needless white elephant building erection, nothing that is not boring!

Some people like Suza can wander along the same paths and fine many differing photographs and sights.  Some can find sunshine at Christmas!  Here, lacking transport, lacking a bus service just now because of Tier 4, here we can only dawdle around the same old places, freezing to death and being bored by it all.

Now I do not wish any crazy adventures to appear, although having a nice building fire, attempted murder/bank robbery or such would create interest.  Instead we have the traffic to Sainsburys, the freezing postman telling me the man in the Frame next to him has Covid (I do not expect to see him again this year) and an occasional dog walker passing by.  A boring place, not made exciting by doing the Laundry, although it appears my neighbours were in so maybe it excited them?  The week between Christmas and New Year is boring when Tier 4 traps us all indoors.  

However, reading Twitter I see how important this is!

This morning Twitter was stuffed with Medics of various types demanding help from this government, lack of equipment, lack of staff, and a huge increase in Covid patients.  Instead some media emphasis the emergency 'Nightingale Hospital' is being closed.  It is closing because this was another balloon from Boris, a new hospital but no-one to staff it!!!  Now all NHS are overburdened and Boris has disappeared.  No change there!

 

Bored?  Confused now.  One of my delightful, intelligent, talented nieces has decided to take a family photograph and have it made into a Jig-saw for me.  This sounds a clever idea, and in truth it really is clever.  However, the main colour is dark, little is light, and as it concerns several people posing before the launch of the Queen Mary in 1936, once she had been fitted out, it has awkward bits all around.

She thinks she is clever, and indeed she is, however, I am beginning to have somewhat rougher thoughts concerning her now.  In my mind jig-saws are things I last got occupied with back in the 70's, and not for long then. I have not forgotten the tricks to doing them, find the corners, look for the edges, but I am beginning to believe she has removed a corner and hidden some edges!  Anyway, it has been put aside for feeding time.  I will finish it tomorrow...

 

The Dankness...

 

A Monday holiday as Boxing Day was Saturday.  The mist has hung around all day, though some sun appeared.  Dankness now reigns.  The thin covering of snow like frost that greeted us this morning may return tonight.  Thankfully, here in the 'warmest part of the country' we avoid the worst.  

That sums up today.

The world appears stunned that it must endure another day off.  A few dawdle across the park, a few dogs sniff and bark, a few new bikes appear, and a few new scooters, boots and hats also.  All prized assests, at least until familiarity breeds contempt.  Shiny things do not remain shiny for ever.  

So, to find sunshine I look at US Railways on 'Virtual Raifan.'  Naturally, the first one was in Canada and the snow already three inches deep!  Tehachapi, California, 'where the sun always shines,'  was suffering a monsoon, and Chehalis, Washington State was covered in mist, again.  Maybe it is not so bad here after all?

This appeared on Twitter the other day.  I cannot prove the facts offered, I do not recall who published this, however I did think it looked accurate...

How interesting that the 'free press' in the UK is considered less believable than that found in Albania, Ireland, Turkey or North Macedonia!  I do not see Russia on there, maybe there is a reason?  

This tells us how much we need a 'free press,' as well as indicating some nations may trust their press and not notice the failings?  Social media, with all the 'fake news,' has taken the place for many.  What is on offer there may be more attractive, more honest or indeed more futile, however, that is where young folks find news.

I wonder if Rupert Murdoch owns papers in North Macedonia?

Boxing Day 2020

 

 

Rising late into a subdued world it did not take me long to realise that in spite of a crammed freezer, in spite of a full fridge, in spite of cupboards groaning I was about to run out of bread!  After a bacon sandwich for breakfast, all I could cope with, I began to wonder should I bother with bread.  Common sense however said otherwise.  By lunchtime I joined the trickle of people in Sainsburys for bread.  It always surprises me just how many folk fill a trolley on Boxing Day?  There were a few of those giving it a try.  Most were like myself, filling the gaps created from yesterday or finding the forgotten bread and milk.

The Christmas cheer was not much in evidence, an occasional nod from a glum passerby, a greeting, a grunt, but so many look the other way, not joyful, cheery or willing to meet people.  The recent incomers are mostly responsible for this, London overspill you see, however many are suffering, covid, family problems, illness, loneliness or maybe they are just miserable gits?   Who can tell, but it is clear less folks greet one another these days than did 20 years ago.  As I walked back across the near deserted park, a few taking a walk, far from others, it was clear most had remained indoors.  Covid has had an effect both yesterday and today.

 

I ate quite a large plateful yesterday, followed by a reasonable sized Belgian chocolate Christmas pudding, with a glass of 'Highland Park Viking whisky' that  my secret admirer sent me.  Today I made soup with the chicken bones, and I must say it is the best I have made for a while.  The butchers chickens are better fed than Tesco's.  I was also forced to eat more chicken and other bits.  I am now looking at the Christmas cake while sipping gin and blackcurrent that was donated by another admirer.  Sometimes I am glad these admirers live far away and far apart!  

Today phone calls and emails replace the bother of having people around to annoy me while watching football, (we won 5-3 by the way).  I wonder about a family gathering up north (they are not supposed to have the whole lot together for one day, though they all enjoyed it) I'm sure there was more than six there, but I am not surprised that the younger element have gone off today to find a MacDonalds! Anyway, as the wind rises and begins to howl through the cracks in the window frame, the rain lashes the glass and my feet rest on the radiator I take no heed as I now have several books to read, all good ones, with more on the way.  I also discovered a strange emotional response, humility.  Looking at what I had been given I felt realy humble and emotional, as I do not deserve all that I have been given.  I really don't deserve this family or these friends.

 

Anyway, remember this...

 

 

Christmas Day 2020

While they were in Bethlehem, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

 

Merry Christmas to one and all.

 

 

 

Christmas Eve 2020

The dreichness lessened for a while today tempting me to cross the park to seek what dim sunshine was available.  Leaping in and out of the clouds the sun tried to brighten the place, which was hard as the clouds all came from the north, driven by a bitter wind.  

Nice however, to see the world outside of Tesco, but not so nice when the cold wind crashes through the cracks in the window frames.  Walking into it across the park was great fun if you are preparing for an Arctic adventure, not so good if you just wish to see daylight.  

Christmas cheer enabled one or two to acknowledge you were alive, but not all.  A nod here, a glance there, was all the cheer available.  There again most were wrapped up in winter outfits, with face masks on, as they had been at the shops 'Click & Collect' doors.  

Argos have been doing OK in spite of LockDown.  There were several freezing poutside awaiting permission from the Stasi to enter.  One or two other shops had similar administrations ongoing.  However, that said the streets were comparatively empty.  Traffic slow, supermarkets reasonably busy but most following Tier 4 orders.

All freezing cold.

 

Christmas joy is found in the media also.  Not just the needless screaming empty headlines lying about Boris and his so-called 'Deal,' but the routine joy of someone who dies from a sudden heart attack, the child in hospital, the robbery, the mugging, the drunks in cars and so on.  Today, the thing to do if you get sick is report this in the tabloids.  Why anyone whould wish to know you are sick, knocked-down/ill/having a fit/ pregnant/dead, I am not sure as most folk have never heard of you before and will have forgotten you by tonight.  However, there it is, any skin disease can be advertised in the paper, with picture, any illness, anything in fact bar news!   

Not that the days headlines are news.  The media acclaim Boris when it would be better hanging him upside down from a lamppost!  Brexiteers rejoice, except for the pouting ERG ones who shout 'Traitor' because he has not satisfied them.  We all know who the 'traitors' are!

One day soon however all these papers will be dead and gone, news will come digitally, and these media will not be missed.

Dreich Day

 

 

Dreich Day indeed.

It poured this morning, encouraaging grass to grow and weeds to sprout.  Suddenly, in spite of the weather forecast, it stopped when it ought to have been pouring down.  So I visited Tesco for the last time, met a grumpy staff member and a happy manager, stumbled home with my loot, mostly for others rather than myself, and settled down to await the postman.

Naturally, when he came he was in Teir 4 attitude and refused to ring the bell in case he catches a virus from it.  He must have knocked but I canny hear that, even though I was looking for him!  So while one measly routine letter arrives my neices expensive parcel has gone back and will not be re-delivered until Tuesday!  Bah!  He will hear about this!   (The word 'expensive' is not meant to be taken literally)

 

 

The Dreich day is not improved watching that Mr Hancock placing more people in Teir 4 while not acknowledging his guilt.  The Tories have been lying about the number of Lorris awaiting Ferries, only 170 one claimed, while 1500 others claimed where blocking the roads.  Some say several thousand now lie full of rotting perishables near Dover.  

What exactly are the benefits of Brexit...?

Freezer Foods

 

I've never had a freezer like this before, packed to the gunnels (whatever they are) with meat!  The ageing freezer has been full but usually with routine things, often not doing what they say they will do on the packet.  I especially like the lie 'Serves Two,' when there is barely enough for one.  Possibly the £50,000 a year marketing junior who scribbles this is a 6 stone lassie who considers a fish finger 'filling.'  Such 'meals' I have tried and remain convinced they would feed people if they added food to them.  However, for me the next few days feeding looks quite good, if I remember to take things from the freezer of course.

Early this morning I joined the queue at the butchers, one of the few shops open and very busy, where the minted lamb chops and the Xmas chicken, the far to many sausages, were joined by a pack of bacon bought to avoid disruption after December 31st when the Danish bacon no longer arrives.

Then she asks for the cash!

I fainted!

However, Now I have cut it up, bagged it all, filled the freezer and feel guilty in having all this when others have so little.  I know what it is like to have nothing in the freezer bar a bag of chips and some mince, so guilt at my enormous chow wagon upsets me.   

I might get more guilt from that bottle of rum later...

 

Christmas is going to be hard this year for many.  Numbers see their family only at Yuletide and naturally this will not happen for the majority now, though some will break the rules.  A lot of older types who cannot make use of a laptop and who fail to comprehend 'Zoom' for instance (Good on them I say) along with many who understand such things but cannot afford to possess one may well find Christmas Day hard with little means of contact.  

In fact the local Salvation Army used to do Christmas Day dinners for such as wanted them but that will not be possible now.  No way they can get together, I suspect some will be sorry about that.  

Winter Solstice and Closed Ports

BBC

 

At last the 'shortest day!'

Naturally it is wet, chilly, dank, dreich and not improving the well-being of those venturing out to what few shops remain open in Tier 4 Land.  Cars splash along the street, people take great steps to avoid one another as well as the cars heading for large puddles, and blessings abound with the short-term employed in the checkouts. 

Such a happy day for from tomorrow the nights get shorter the days longer and Spring is just around the corner.  Sunshine, blue skies, bright days and lockdown for all!  

And Brexit poverty on top for us all!

I just canny wait for that...

 

 

It is interesting to see how many nations are no longer wishing to accept travellers from the 'English Free State.'  I read that 40 or so countries have banned contact, France has closed the Dover crossing, and the only ones to fly out are the Tory Brexiteer cheerleaders who have ceased claiming the virus is a hoax and the vaccine does not work for a week or two having escaped to their money in the Cayman Islands or somewhere.  I am sure they will not be missed but I feel for the servants they look down upon in foreign lands.

This is a taste of Brexit to come.  With inadequate customs staff, computer systems not ready, lack of knowledge of paperwork required, hundreds of miles of lorries carrying decaying foodstuffs one way or the other, and overworked and short staffed employees attempting to counter the virus while at work it looks like a jolly old Christmas at the ports.  

I empathise with companies that still do not understand what to do.  Information is lacking because nobody knows what to do anywhere.  Thousands of pieces of paper required to export, but what papers?  Will the customs know any better?  What will the French understand?  

My nephew is glad he no longer drives big lorries, though he never went abroad.  It is a hard life on the road, especially if you only speak Romanian!

 

Oxiana and Laundry...

 

I managed to finish a book!  No, not one of the colouring in ones, an actual book. During 'Lock Down' I expected to read all the books in the pile, I failed.  Indeed, I hardly picked one up, at times there was no incentive to read, nothing tasted and I just could net get into any off them.  Eventually, having been forced by 'Waterstones' to buy to keep my voucher points I bought three.  Even more eventually I began to read.  

I bought this because it was a travel book from the past.  In fact it covers this man Robert Byron, no relation to the other one, on his trip across Persia and Afghanistan and Turkestan in his quest to investigate ancient Islamic architecture during the winter of 1933/34.  Quite why he would choose to visit a place with towering mountains during the winter months I fail to understand. It is to be expected at such seasons that roads will be blocked by snow or landslip so why try? However, when we reflect on his Eton Schooling we will begin to understand that acting like a normal individual was not his way.  

Byron had travelled widely before this book visiting the Soviet Union, India and elsewhere and he had published several books, some of which are still available.

The book is formed from the diary he kept at the time, and the diary form works well in travel books I think.  His usual way is to describe the day, the place where he stays, the food, those with him and then an in depth description of the architecture he finds.  This part I found a wee bit wearing as such descriptions in books do not make clear to the minds eye what is being described.  However, this website offers pictures of many of the sites visited, often with Byron's own photographs as well as a modern colour view.  This site in very helpful in understanding what he is viewing.  The tale then returns to his day, the food, the problems and so on.

Journeying in this region at any time is fraught with many dangers.  Politics, tribesmen, Muslims upset at a heretic in the mosque, are all testing, while food, shelter and breaking down on the road far from help are all trials to be faced.  Illness, when it strikes shows little mercy at a time and place when no NHS exisited.  

Hints of humour, mostly from his dealings with people appear, and a surprising wide variety of  people appear in this book and his determined personality mixed with that of his diplomatic friend Christopher, who occasionally accompanies him, often forces them through difficult situations. 

Being 'British' of class opens the door to the local leaders as they pass, some more friendly than others, this including the Russians who invite the travellers to enjoy a refreshing party which leads to a headache in the morning.  

The book offers a different world from what is found in this region today.

War, politics and individual stubborness have made this part of the world attractive to many and dangerous for most.  It is unlikely a similar journey could be made today.  The road from Tehran to Kabul may offer many intriguing sights for the modern traveler but I wonder would one return?

Robert Byron died in 1941 when the ship in which he travelled was torpedoed off Cape Wrath and his body was not recovered. 

This is a good book, I recommend it.

Late in the evening, well about 5:30 pm the van arrived.  By 6 pm they were on their way. The reviews spoke well of the delivery men and John Lewis's organisations efficiency.  I now agree.  Called by a robotic voice twice to inform me of when they would deliver and by the driver himself when 20 minutes away was impressive.  It was not so efficient in the 80's before an online service and an robotic voice could call.  

A very large young man, I had to look up to him, came in, looked around, said "It's no bother," and began to remove the old machine.  His mate joined him and said, "No bother," and soon they had the old machine out, the new one in, and working!  Paying for them to fit it was a great idea!  

Well-organised, efficient, experienced, and capable, they were indeed friendly and helpful and careful not to leave any mess.  Within 30 minutes they had gone.   

These guys would not finish till around 9 pm in the evening.  Working four long days and having three off is a good idea to me.  I never had the chance to do that but I think it works well, especially when delivering goods and considering the customers work hours.  I was pleased with them, I nearly gave them a tip I was so delighted.

Today I tried the machine, once I began to understand the booklet, and happily it worked OK.  How delightful to be wearing something that does not make dogs noses twich when I pass...

 

Christmas

All this festivity began when a 14 year old lassie received a visit from Gabriel, the angel. Informed she would carry the Christ child she accepted this task but remained somewhat perturbed, as you would. Gods call is never easy, while he young husband accepted his part also neither expected to have to walk 30 miles to deliver the child in a cave used as a stable. A long walk but no way could these two afford a donkey, and anyway, he would have ridden it, not her.

Resting with the child the aroma of sheep from the shepherds who spoke of choirs of angels above must have increased their wonder as to what all this was about. Some time later the Magi arrived, a complete contrast to the shepherds who reflected the lowest in society. How many Magi arrived is unknown though three gifts were left. Three men sitting on camels pointing at a star while carrying a flask of coffee and a pack of sandwiches does not reflect the thousand mile journey from Babylon the men took to find the child. The star, possibly a conjunction of Saturn and another planet, was observed in Babylon and China in 7 BC and again in 5 BC and possibly this was the ‘star’ they saw. These men left precious gifts which was just as well as soon after they were walking again, this time to Egypt. King Herod, a sick man who found paranoia easy to excuse, bumped off all those children under two as soon as he could to ensure his Kingdom was safe.

He then promptly died in 4 BC, unmourned.

With Jesus return expected soon Jesus followers did not spend much time remembering his birth. Just looking to where he was working was more important. Informing the world of his death for their sins, his rising from the dead and the need to turn to him, and the day when we shall all stand before his throne was what was important.

It took many decades before people began to consider Matthew and Luke’s birth accounts of Jesus as worth celebrating. Who decided this first is unclear and many began to dispute the date in the 3^rd century. By 336 AD Christmas was being held on December 25^th, possibly because this was nine months after the ‘Annunciation,’ or perhaps because the Roman Solstice occurred on that date. In truth no-one actually knows the date when Jesus took human form but it was more likely to be between March and May rather than December. Anyway, the shops are busy at this time of year so who wishes to be giving birth then?

Winter in the Northern Hemisphere is a cold, dreary place for many and the winter solstice, the day the nights begin to grow longer, is always welcomed with celebration. I suspect that way back in the days just after the last Ice Age some 10,000 years ago the peoples there knew exactly the date of the solstice and celebrated just as we would. ‘Christmas’ now takes that place for most.

In the British Isles the celebration became a 12 day event, ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas,’ and for a people mostly living a hard life in poverty this was an excuse to party at a time when parties may well have been few. Food and drink began to be taken in great excess especially during the very cold 1500’s.

The Reformation however soon interrupted the enjoyment. The drunkenness, violence and excess led to much bother and the celebration was seen as ‘Papist superstition’ by the growing number of Puritans. Scotland eventually banned this ‘superstition’ in 1640, although under Charles II this was lifted for a time from 1680 until 1690 when it was reimposed. By 1712 the Act was lessened and Christmas once again became the centre of the English winter. None can explain however why the Charles Dickens type Victorian Christmas became so popular. Possibly in England people rejoice in Rickets, poverty and slums? None of these appear on the Victorian Christmas cards I notice. Scotland continued to celebrate New Year rather than Christmas well into the 20^th century. Indeed Christmas Day only became a holiday in 1958 and Boxing day only in 1974. Quite how the Church of Scotland did not notice the feasting and drinking at New Year is not explained.

For many years Christmas has been nothing but a sentimental, commercial exploitation! Christ, his birth, death and resurrection exchanged for an imaginary Santa Claus figure flying through the air on a sled pulled by reindeer, while plastic snowmen are found lit up all around, even in the middle East! I am not convinced it was meant to be like this?

Even the best churches fall for the ‘empty, vain, Christmas.’ Christmas trees, a pagan symbol, worshipped in central and eastern Europe are found in every church. Prince Albert started this and the camp followers of royalty soon decided they had to do the same. No-one questioned the purpose, no-one objected. So now glistening trees drop pine needles into peoples feet in churches everywhere while lights flicker and go out with annoying rapidity, while none question why there is a ‘Fairy’ on the top!

Is this what Christmas should be?

The good side is found where people get the family together again, often the only time bar funerals and weddings. All this is good, presents, food and drink consumed, games played, children excited, punches exchanged (the men are just as bad) and all cannot wait to do it again next year.

Christians remember Jesus came, and look to him coming again, proper churches of course do this every Sunday, and they renew their decision to follow him weekly, indeed daily as they ought.

No Santa required, Jesus presence and forgiveness is enough.

 

Boris, Pies & That Guy on the Internet...

New European

Today saw the last PMQs of the year.  I ignored it.  The report however indicates that whatever the question Boris ignored it and gave an answer that suited him, even if totally irelevant to the question asked.  The PM at PMQs has always had the ability to avoid giving a straight answer, all advantages lie with the sitting PM, the Leader of the Opposition is often floundering against a brick wall.  However, Boris takes this to the obvious conclusion and just bare-faced lied throughout.  Only complimentary points made by 'Arslikan' back benchers get a warm response, though even Boris knows they would stab him in the back if required.  

So it goes on.  I ignore it as this false question time is a waste of time.  With a disorganised opposition unsure of where it is headed, a government heading for a 'No Deal' as ordered by Mr Putin and those money changers, nothing will save the nation from the disaster of Brexit.  Only the Good Lord stepping in will save us and it appears he is allowing this nation the leaders this nation deserves!

Stock up now while you still can!

Murdoch Brothers

Around 5 pm last night I had a call from that nice Mr Murdoch, Graham to his customers, concerning my missing 12 pies.  Apologising for failing to read the order properly and promising to send the missing 12 pies ASAP he had kindly taken the time to call and put things right.

It appears he has only had three Sunday's off in 9 months as 'Lock Down' has increased his sales resulting in wearing him out.  Of course that is his fault, Butchers offering tastless pies do not have this bother! 

This is a reflection of those who have been isolated, had shops shut, and local butchers not local enough for them.  This also reflects on the care of Murdoch Brothers service as people keep re-ordering from them!  Well done to him!

Now to eat...

 

Tier 3 Handymen with Pies!

 

We have an electrician somewhere in the building.  He is 'finishing off' what he started some weeks ago.  'Finishing off' means 'repairing' as far as I can see, but I may be wrong.  He started in flat 2, has moved to flat 3, and is most probably in his van scoffing cheese sandwiches as I write.  I just wish he would come here, finish the job, and depart so I can get on.  

Ah!  Thumping in the stairwell, such banging can only indicate a professional is at work.  I have let him in and moved away so he can make a mess far from me.  I had better get the hoover out...

Yesterday I awaited another electrician, this one would change the electric meter for a 'smart meter' so I can save the planet and avoid struggling up and down the stairs into the basement.  I waited most of the day before he arrived.  He was friendly efficient and wasting his time.  These meters require a phone signal, which they cannot receive in the basement.  Further, being on the 1st floor meant the meter could not reach that far to the wee box that would give me a read out.  It was interesting to note the meter number the man had differed from mine!  I have only had the meter about 20 years, and he claimed it was the newest one there!  So that days wait was a waste.  Poor man was so helpful I felt for him wasting his time.   

With the worker arriving I thought I had better head to Tesco early.  A quick scoot around and I got almost all required, bar the things I forgot!  At the checkout two of the girls were getting anxious, they often do near me, but as the supervisor came over I noticed a drugged up chap heading past me for the door.  The girls stopped him and attempted to remove the bottle of 'Captain Morgan' rum and two beer bottles from him while next to me.  He was unwilling so I grabbed his arm and the rum and they got the beer as he ran for the door.  Complimentary words were ushered in his direction as he staggered out.  Attempting to rob while on drugs is not the best way.  Both he and his brother are often at it, well known to the stores here.  It's all rather sad really, it shows how desparate the boys are, it upsets the girls who have to intervene, but it did make me a wee bit more popular by aiding them.  No discount mind! 

So far it has been a busy week.  The church met on Sunday, masked, discliplined, "Don't touch the seat" even though you sit on them, no singing, and no conversation until outside in the rain!  

Jesus was there so it was worth it.  

Nothing has been 'settled' this week.  Always something online, email, handyman, or Christmassy to deal with.  I even missed Northern Irish football last night because of this!  

My life can be hard at times.

Now when the electrician returns, he has done a bit and will finish it in and hour - he says, and after that I have peace until Thursday when the new washing machine arrives.  If all goes well!

 

 

 

Of course it may be the imposition of Tier 3 on Essex may stop the vanmen delivering my machine.  I may remain smelling like a sewage dump for a wee bit longer if that is the case.  While all agree 'LockDown' is justified, and after the open invitation from the chancellor to 'eat out' spreading the infection it is not surprise people are sick.  Add to this those who gather in crowds claiming the virus is a hoax, and indeed the many Tory writers in the media lying in their teeth about the virus and its effects, yes Allison Pearson I mean you!  These things encourage people to be slack re distancing and meeting people with the inevitable result.  The ones who suffer are the grans and granddads trapped indoors unable to meet grandchildren, or those unable to get out and remain lonely with no-one to care.  The confusion as to what is allowed, shops open, gyms open, pubs serving takeaways, schools open even though many spread the virus...it's all a mess!  I accept such organisation is difficult but the whole thing is still shambolic and will remain so for some time.

 

 

Once again my 'settled' life is upset.  I ordered 24 Scotch Pies from Murdochs in Forres, and waited expectantly, with fridge and freezer door open and awaiting eagerly.  Today they arrived, or at least only 12 arrived!  One box, 12 pies while 24 paid for!  

I e-mailed them at once, hastening to the laptop while storing the goods away.   So far only an automatic 'your goods have been delivered' e-mail has been received.  I hope they reply soon or they may get an expensive phone call from an upset customer...

I bet they are laughing in Costa Rica...

 

 

Front Pages!

 

 

It was to be an 'Oven Ready Deal.'  There would be 'sovereignty,' we would trade freely with the world, 'our' fishing would be protected, farmers would be paid, opportunities would appear everywhere.

Now we have 'Gunboats' in the channel?

Where are these 'gunboats' when Russian trawlers or Naval vessels pass close to Scottish waters?  They do not appear at those times, what vessels we have left are on the English south coast.   It is said the Royal Navy has put FOUR ships on standby to fight off French Trawlers.  Commando's are ready to leave helicopters and land on offending 'Frogies!' But surely we had a deal, didn't we?  The propaganda promised there would be a deal!     

Of course there is no deal, 'No Deal' was always on the cars, it is what the 'Hedge-Fund' men want, they will make a killing from this.  One, Crispin Odey, is said to have bet £300 million on a 'No Deal.'  I cannot imagine Rees-Mogg is not also well into this, Farage and his friends will be rejoicing at 'No Deal.'  

Whether all these tales are true or not we must add the Russian influence on Boris.  Russian money has flooded into the Consrvative Party in recent years, and that Nice Mr Putin does not like to waste cash.  What was the purpose, bar separating the UK from the EU?   Who will benefit from the disaster that awaits us?  The Hedge-fund men, who will use their EU passports (bought from Malta possibly) to live abroad, the Russians, and Boris himself, lining his pockets to enjoy his soon to be retirement from politics.

 

A disaster looms, a nation gets the leadership its behaviour deserves.

 

The only other story in town, not counting the never ending, continuing Royal corruption/sycophancy ones, is the death of Barbara Windsor.  The poor lass died of age and dementia, and she never headed a ball in her life, and now is seen as a 'National Treasure.'  Playing a flirty bint most of her life gave her employment for long enough, I think she appeared in 9 'Carry On' films, and probably disliked them as much as the other cast members did.  However, an actor has to take what comes along.  At least Sid James liked her.

Now the tabloids are using her once again to line their pockets, not that they will do much for the dementia situation, but clearly, as with the royals, there is money to be made here!

 

Boris, EU, Charity Adverts

A friend, I do have them, in a far distant land, shares cheap Christmas tokens with me each year.  One year I received a pencil with a knot in it, another year a short string of glittering blue tinsel.  Obviously she does not appreciate the cost of the two tea bags I sent her!  This is her offering this year, possibly this could be construed as a political gesture, and with Boris now somewhere in the EU selling out so that he can obtain a 'No Deal' as he and his money changers have been looking for all along, then he can start blaming the EU for intransigence.  

I mentioned on Twitter last night that this trip was a scam, no deal was going to happen as 'No Deal' was what he has been looking for and this is just another balloon from the bumbling, lying balloon.  It was frightening to read peoples responses.  There is out there still a number, a large number, of people who believe in Boris.  People who consider 'No Deal' a good thing, people who do not think January 1st will lead to shortages, people who will not open their minds to anything but what they wish to believe.  While Boris panders to these people in Brussels his friends who demanded Brexit are all moving their business overseas.

 

I came across this German cartoon the other day and thought it appropriate...

On a slightly different subject, this morning I received a magazine, I can read yu know, and inside the plastic wrapper alongside said mag was an invitation to give a subscription to a friend, an advert for a 'Special Pensioners' hearing aid, though it did not qualify how to be a 'special pensioner,' an offer (£83 plus P&P) for 12 bottles of wine, considerably cheaper in Tesco I wish to point out, an advert for health insurance to rob us, and eight (8) requests for money from various charities.  Corum, Crisis, Blind Veterans, Trussel Trust, Lifeboats, Zane (who?), YMCA and Water Aid!  All this doubled the weight of the magazine!  Oh yes, and something dangerous was also included, a small advert, indeed a booklet, from an organisation calling itself PostScrpt.  This is a bookshop selling books!  

Comparing this to a pile of requests for charitable cash leaves me feeling too guilty to purchase a book.  And if guilt, and that is what lies behind such requests at this time of year, if guilt forces me to send cash how do I decide who to give it too?  No doubt that those charities among them that I know are worthy, the others probably are also or this mag would not allow them, but how to decide?  Are the young needy more important than old?  Or Blind more important because they were servicemen?  Do children come before families or Lifeboats? It can all become very confusing.

Naturally I dump them in the recycling bag.

I have given to various charities, month by month, sometimes for years, then if I had any cash I decided to let the money collect and give a bundle to something I truly thought worth it.  There are all around such places, from the Food Bank to local homeless hostels, young folks and the like, and there are always things near and far that could be helped.  I just like to imagine that what I give can do something for others.  My mates church in London helps the 'Street People,' many of whom sleep under bushes in Hyde Park, and weekly they give out foodpacks in these virus days.  This when the church income has been slashed, some 75% of the income has gone, and therefore so has many staff.  However, he believes the work must continue and Jesus will help.

Come January 1st we shall begin to see real need again.  What social services we have will soon face cuts, the NHS, over burdened still, will also be cut, and how many US investors will arrive?  The Food Banks may need more help, the people operating the food banks will also require assistance soon, 2020 is seen as a dark year, I suspect for many it will become darker.

 

 

Dementia and Fascism...

Guardian

 

This man is Steve Thompson, he won the Rugby World Cup in 2003, that's 17 years ago, and now appears to be suffering dementia.  Rugby Union has always been a rough sport.  Middle Class men showing off their strength to one other and to themselves, barging into one another with gay abandon and making light of injuries recieved and given, sometimes because of the game, sometimes deliberately to hurt.  The Gentleman's Sport!

I have always seen rugby union as rough, an excuse for violent attitudes to be released yet disguised as 'sport.' And since the introduction of 'professionalism' a few years ago the game got harder and more violent.  Big, well prepared men banging into one another cannot be expected to avoid long term damage.  Professionalism introduced larger, fitter, and bigger men, into the game.  Only now are we seeing the results.

Much publicity has been gven to football for old men suffering dementia, heading the ball is given as the reason.  Personally I accept that may well play a part, esepecially with those who were introduced to football via the Brown Leather 'Filly' Ball that once was the only option.  This ball, a mere pound in weight, soon doubled its weight as water and mud off the grubby pitches stuck.  The fact that pitches were not level, heavy with mud and water all added up to a heavy weight and this caused the ball to spend much more time in the air thus endangering those who were required to deal with it.  A 'Filly' hitting you in the face, even on a good day, could knock you out, as I once discovered!  The potential damage to centre halves in particular must have been serious.

Since the late 50's however a new type of ball was introduced, white in colour, easier to see, lighter, more resistant to gathering water, yet still with much improvements required.   The 'T' Ball was soon replaced by the 'Mitre' ball and in the last 20 years al sorts of ball made from a variety of substances have been introduced, thus lighter for the players and more hazardous for the goalkeepers as this type of ball swerves in the air more often.  

Several great Heart of Midlothian players have suffered this way, it is not known how many suffered in years that went before, as there are many ways to die, the NHS has in these times has given us a longer lifespan than that enjoyed by men of yore.  Yet not all old men suffer dementia, indeed many more women suffer this as any geriactric ward will testify, and they from a variety of backgrounds and intellectual levels.  David Holt, the great Hearts left back of the early 60's was seen in the paper recently, at 82, continuing to live with a normal brain capacity.  Laurie Reilly, the Hibernian centre forward died at 84 also fully in control of his mind so far as is known.  Indeed close to his death he was still working on match days as a 'welcomer' to the club visitors. 

Therefore it is not just heading a ball that needs investigation, there are many other threats that lead to dementia, what could they be?  Until around 1970 most men in football would have begun with the 'Filly' ball, men in rugby would have begun in the amateur game but the headbanging would have been similar throughout time.  Men born in the 30's may well have endured a poor upbringing, large family, poor nourishment, war rations, even military service, and I supect most, if not all, smoked.  Beer drinking also may have been constant and most men would finish their career by the age of 32 or so.

Later generations have learned about diet, fitness and health care but not all had such luxuries in the past.  So, how much does family background, age, diet and other possible infuelces have on dementia? It is likely banging heads in rugby, especially since the professional game began, has had effects, it is likely those heading the old ball in the past had an effect, yet not all suffer dementia.  

It is terrible to watch people suffer, and I am a wee bit unsure about those jumping to conclusions re the cause as they are doing at the minute.  Much more in depth research is required, not a tabloid led 'knee-jerk response.

 

The New European

 

You may not have know that the Labour Party had a 'Shadow Minister for Faith,' I did not even know we had a 'Minister for Faith,' but there again so many people are required to pretend there is a governing class that you never can be sure of what those MPs in Westminster are actually doing.  

This one, whatever else she did, if indeed she did anything at all, commented that "...that registrars who have a religious objection to same-sex marriages should be protected from losing their jobs if they refuse to certify the partnership."  Howls of anguish from the gay lobby!  Such howls that she has now 'stood down' from her role and claims she 'apologised sincerely for misjudged remarks.'

Really?

Misjudged?  Who says so?  Blatant discrimination against the conscience, now passed into Law, is clear and wrong, yet when this is stated she has to go?  We live today in a fascist state.  The morals of the people have no centre, they rely soley on what is most popular at the time, the idea of 'right and wrong' have been removed and replaced blatanly in front of us by 'Political Correctness,' a false morality that accepts what is wrong and rejects anyone who indicates that this is so.  Hence the murder of children kileld by abortion and the feeble excuses offered for this crime, the acceptance of same-sex marriage and gay behaviour as if it were normal.  The abuse of those who indicate such abnormal behaviour is unnatural is now common.  The lunatics now run the asylum.  

The vast majority keep quiet, not wishing to get into trouble, politicians join in as they want votes, the courts and media, now run by Oxbridge graduates who emerged in the 60's and 70's smoking dope and releasing their own problems onto the world now oppose those who speak the truth, they fail to understand why anyone would disagree with their view.  An open mind is not allowed in a Nazi state.  Soon the books will be getting burnt, look out for that down your street, it will be too late to object then.

I note this women stood down, offering feeble apologies so she might get another job later.  She spoke the truth but she clearly has no faith stronger than 'Look after number one.'  I suspect we will see her again, but she will not be worth listening to.