It's the Greediest Time Of the Year

Early in the morning, before the sun was rising, and it still hasn't, I limped my way to Sainburys for my Christmas dinner.  It was quite busy for that time, cars were arriving, trolleys were being banged into one another, decisions re what to buy was occurring all around, and usually in my way, as I carried my basket from point 'A' to point 'B.'  By the time I approached the smiling lass at the checkout I realised I had bought too much, and on top of that had not obtained the Xmas foodstuffs I sought.  These had been advertised yet were not available.  Nothing daunted of course, I will survive I thought to myself.  The smiling lass charged me far too much once again and yet had the audacity to blame me for this.  I wished her merry Christmas just the same and limped home once again.

Sadly, once home my metal derangement kicked in once again. 

I decided to visit Tesco for my Christmas dinner, NOW!

I blame the bang on the head I received when playing football all those years ago.  The large brown 'filly' ball knocked me out and I found myself sitting with my head between my knees.  While in today's game a medical team would appear, spending many minutes ensuring I was alive, stable, awake, playing with the boys in the Meadows meant I just got up again and played on.  I think the shock is settling in now.

So, I washed my filthy face and dried it on the filthy towel and hobbled off once again towards Tesco's.

Again a mere 10,000 people were barging into one another in a friendly manner.  This time many items suggested for lunch were available, however, the pretty decorated boxes, the attractive contents, and the prices did not fit with one another.  Small items indeed, but the prices were far from small, Christmas increases I reckon.  So, after searching around I went back to the more normally overpriced goods which we all know are not worth the money, but they were worth it much more than the Christmas deals.  Christmas expense comes but once a year, and supermarkets are desperate to make the most of it.

Oh yes, I don't have enough bread....

Shopping

It was along day yesterday which resulted in a nothing doing day today.  This, as many will be quick to point out, is not a strange occurrence here.  I have however, planned the shopping for tomorrow, if I can get up early enough to beat the crowds.  The Xmas stock must be obtained, enough to last until Boxing Day when the store will reopen, closed Xmas day.  One day off for the staff!  And that grudgingly.      

Cars from the store have trundled past all day.  A sight seen all over the nation, indeed all over the western world at the moment.  Many remembering what Christmas is about, many looking forward/dreading a family get together, and several thousand hugging stones at Stonehenge for spiritual satisfaction.  Then getting drunk or stoned.  I am even more keen on remaining indoors.

Did you notice the picture...?

Christmas Sunday

Returning home in the heavy rain after a busy Sunday.

Morning service, the last before Christmas, quite busy with a lot attending.  All quite cheery as Christmas approaches, bubbly and ready for anything.

Except me.

I had forgotten to eat on the previous night and was almost asleep during the service.  My mind kept floating away, and concentration is hard enough these days.  Rejoice! Rejoice! Coffee was served, this kept me going till I got home.

There I ate, and watched the Heart of Midlothian walk all over the arrogant, orange dressed, Rangers.

2-1 was the final score, but it ought to have been 4-0 at least.  We missed an excellent opportunity to give them a hiding, sadly.

I then slept for 20 minutes.

Just as well as I was doing the first reading at the 6 o'clock Carol Service.  

This went well, all read acceptably, carols were sung, strangers, some annual strangers, came.  Then all the strangers ran for the door at the end in case someone spoke to them, and we had all the mulled wine to ourselves.

Still raining.  

See...

Saturday Saunter

It was clearly near Christmas as the angels appeared again on the fences.  All round town the women have been knitting these wee creatures, oblivious to the fact that angels in the Bible do not have wings, and leaving their work for individuals to take home.  This happens every year.  

I left them where they were, though most have since disappeared.

The town, by the time I got there, was beginning to close down.  Christmas stalls abounded, each and every one stuffed with overpriced, often home made, items that I do not wish to purchase.  Clearly there is some profit as it is always the same people selling their goods, one has even progressed to a small shop.  

Normal Christmas activity was to be seen, a wedding in the old town hall, loud aged rock music from one stall, but no actual Christmas music was to be heard, I am glad to say.  I took my puritan attitudes to the museum to obtain a jar of honey, and there I saw lots of small items that I missed before, I'm glad to say, that I may have been tempted to but for the family.  Money saved is a good thing.

We awoke to mist, deep mist, that hung around for a while and was soon replaced by constant sunshine.  The temperature did not rise mind, freezing it was all day.  Here I am glad the hearing comes on.  It has come on and off all day. keeping the heat reasonable, and me unreasonable, as always.  Naturally, tomorrow brings drizzle.  

Sainsburys and Kemi the Racist

I headed off bright and early this morning to Sainsburys for the weekend needful.  Being Friday it was a bit busy, even more so as it is the last Friday before Christmas, which is next Thursday you know.  I went through my list, I have long realised a list is always required in such shops, bumping to many men unused to shopping trolleys, and unused to following the wife around such shops.  Clever men carry a basket and skip by such as they.

Having decided the basket now weighted more than I can carry I headed for the checkout.  Much to my surprise three, new, girls were sitting silently awaiting customers while the self service place was overrun.  That has not happened before.  I chose the young Asian lass who I met last week.  That day she was having a disaster, nothing was going right, the supervisor was hiding, and we were all waiting.  I found myself becoming encouraging towards her rather than grieved.  Eventually we got through and I spoke kindly to the new girl and went on my way.  No point in complaining in such situations, we have all been there, and we have all been struggling at a new job.  Today, all was well and quickly I overfilled the bag, gasped at the price, and nothing, absolutely nothing was a luxury today, paid the money and stumbled home, stopping only to encourage a lost driver that the street he wanted was a mile back they way he had come.  Good luck to him amongst that heavy traffic.

Heavy traffic that was not eased when Zak parked his Royal Mail van at my door blocking the other lane.  While I raced down slowly to gather the parcel from my favourite niece it left the cars behind fuming.  However, I checked on his Christmas, his work pattern this week, and wished him well, ignoring the red faces turning blue in the traffic.  It's not often I stop the traffic, let alone twice in a  morning.  The traffic is still slowly trundling past now, late in the afternoon.

This was produced by Kemi Badenoch the leader of the Conservative Party.  Such blatant racism while commenting on the Labour Party's rather stupid idea, of teaching boys not to be misogynist, and offers blatant racism.  

Lets be clear, while around 200 asylum seekers have been involved with sex attacks of one sort or another, and some 2000 or so 'ethnics' also (meaning Pakistani's usually in the media) the majority of the 16,000 sex attacks in the last account were conducted by white Englishmen or Welshmen.  These numbers come from the Law covering England and Wales only.  

This is another example of the failure of the Conservative Party to find a policy that works, and a failure to admit to their corruption and incompetence over the past 14 years.  For them a change is required, and this woman, herself a daughter of immigrants, is not the answer.

Christmas Date and Stable Question

I was reading an interesting item re the reason Christmas was held at, er Christmas.  This was written by the excellent Psephizo, or Ian Paul if you prefer.   This was a page discussing the date of Christmas as found by researching a variety of records, mostly Jewish, and attempting to discover if December is the real date or ought it to be another.  This is well worth a read.  

Some claim that the date was chosen to cover over the debauchery of the annual sol invictus however, Andrew McGowan, of Yale, has proved this was an anti-Christmas forgery.

Psephizo discusses the various claims, and works through the ideas that indicate the actual time Jesus came to earth.  This of course could be wrong!  We have no actual date, it was not the done thing in those days, and we have to make educated guesses.  Here we have some good guesses.  Well worth a read.

Psephizo also has his own ideas about whether Jesus was actually born in a stable.   This is another good read, again we cannot be sure as we must guess all too often, however, this is worth a read.

The unfortunate western image of a brown hut does not fit in with near eastern practice, so must be rejected.  We tend to see things from our own perspective, but must remember Jesus was born in Judea.

Tuesday Blether

My sister, who, as you know, is considerably older than me, were discussing where there were aged relatives who might pass on and leave us a small fortune.  We were somewhat irked by the fact that WE were the aged relatives now.  There are no 'old ones' left but us.  The distant Fife relatives are all our age or younger, and we have lost contact with them, since contact came through the elderly members, now all gone.  Locally there are none to be found, searching the genealogy has failed to produce an aged millionaire anywhere in the family.  And now we confront our nephews, nieces and the rest with the sad reality that when we go there is nothing but debts to pay off. 

I cannot on here describe their saddened reaction.

It's a laff, innit?

The Gaza War Cemetery lies dishevelled after Israel bombed it, 'Because it was being used by Hamas.'

Aye, OK.

The various governments, the UK, New Zealand, Australia and India, have as yet not condemned the destruction of their fallen's cemetery.  I wonder why?  Some individuals are making a noise, Israeli money has silenced this.

Many protest re the destruction in Gaza, and rightly so.  Barbaric treatment from Netanyahu and his boys is not what people wish to see.  Major support in stopping the war is ongoing and very popular.

However, I wonder why such a response is not found re Sudan, Darfur, Ukraine, Syria, or any of the sub-Saharan wars that we can find, if we look, at the news.  Why are the dead elsewhere less important than Gaza's dead?  Why is there no protests?  Indeed, why do people not know about other wars?

It is not that they are not reported somewhere, we can read about them if we wish, it is that this area of land is the centre of the world these days, and indeed for ever.  There is much more to the Gaza fighting than we reckon, but I would like to see the nation ask re all these other wars, even if they are not popular.

Another Day of Joy and Happiness...

Christmas makes people mental.

Elbowing, tripping, gnashing of teeth and the occasional fist fight occur when people shop for the last remaining 'special toy.'  I of course avoided this by shopping online, I still await the latest to be delivered, and enter shops early in the day before the lower orders are up.

I was thinking of a woman who was whining to her husband re what he does in the house.  She was complaining he did nothing, never took the kid too and from the nursery, and she done it all.

The husband mildly explained that he was working 7 days a week, doing 12 hour shifts, and all to pay for the Christmas she wished to have.  Meanwhile, he stated quietly, she worked only four days a week from 10-2.  He mentioned that she was being unreasonable.  It was at this point he discovered that he had married a woman.

A woman who, I suspect, had been reading those articles in women's magazines telling women how hard a life they had, and that they ought to stand up for themselves and avoid being 'used.'

Of course the women who write this drivel don't actually work themselves.  They live in comfortable surroundings, paid for by temporary man or daddy, and do not have to work at all.  Some write books along this line and enjoy the cash while ruining other women's lives.

Sadly, we all do this.  We read of others happy and easy life and wish to indulge this ourselves.  It does not exist.  Real life is hard work, male or female, rich or poor, well poor anyway.  Those tempted to believe the slavering of those living behind a laptop ought to stop and think a wee bit deeper.

er, blog writers do not count...

Firefox, like all other Browsers, websites, mail accounts, keeps updating the browser.  This is nice, but really, I never use what is already on the thing why do I require more suggestions not to use?  They are all at it, and things to help keep appearing and getting in the way.  I need to work AI just to stop them giving me helps.  None do help of course.

YODEL!

Yes it's them again.  No there has been no delivery, of course not, it's just that I found someone else who suffers from YODEL despair.   

Yesterday, when the cold wind blew and the sun shone, I ventured all the way out to Tesco.  Stumbling around the shelves trying to remember what was written on the list I left on the bunker, I grabbed a few items and headed out (after paying).  

Wandering up the steep slope that I neve knew before, I noticed the Barber was empty!  I entered, was warmly greeted with fixed smiles, by the woman who wished I had continued past, and smiled also as she offered me the seat.

As she expertly clipped and buzzed away I mentioned Christmas online shopping, ensuring delivery and she went into a rant.  Her son is selling old football boots etc, through Vinted, the place that sent my little order by YODEL, and she was NOT happy!  One item, a computer that had been returned as not working, had led to much stress on the YODEL website.  Fumes were offered to the website until she managed to speak to someone, well done her I say!   

Unfortunately it was AI and useless. 

After demanding a human voice she was landed with a foreign sounding chap who was indistinct, yet promised to re-order the delivery and sent for the goods to be delivered.

Nothing happened.

This is YODEL in normal mode.

They do not care.

However, one bright light is they have discovered that when sending goods out you do not have to use YODEL.  There is a choice of another van, I know not which, and they will make use of this as it cannot be worse than YODEL.

The hair now looking great, I went to pay, and she questioned my age, implying I was young.  Lovely woman.  However, I mentioned the number 74, keep this to yourself, and received a reduced price.  So glad was I about this and her excellent service, I left behind a packet of chocolates as a tip, Toblerone bits I think it was, and that I felt was fair response.

Christmas Shopping

 I finished cleaning this morning, the house, not myself, and after a spot of lunch I started to once  again Christmas shop online.  The idea behind this is great, you fond a shop, you select a suitable gift, and it arrives by post or van very soon afterwards.  Payment is simple, and all is well. 

NO IT IS NOT!

For a start, for every child you look for, the gift not the child, there are pages and pages online in a wide and varied selection of shopping centres all designed to take as much cash as possible from you for the least they can offer.  All expect their customers to be middle class, preferably a merchant banker, and willing to pay much for very little, as long as it is trendy.

This is not me.

In the end, having pondered on many things I changed over to Black Bun.

Black Bun is a Scottish delicacy.   This very rich fruit cake is a delight and a New Year special.

Such a shame it now costs between £8 or 11s.  It may not happen in this house. 

Only four shops sell the same make, no alternatives on show, and each has a rusty website inviting you to spend more for thing you do not require at Christmas, but they say you do.

An afternoon wasted cogitating on toys and buns.

Nothing was bought.

Nothing was spent.

I may repeat this tomorrow.

A History of Histories

I've finished a book!

This has taken me ages as all the books on the pile are slow reads.  This one began quite well but slowed down as we passed through time heading towards today.

John Burrow was an intellectual historian, and in this book eh seeks to discover why historians wrote, what past they were writing about, and what motivated them.

John reviews history from Herodotus, who gave us the term historia, that is inquiry, as we inquire into the past.  Beginning with Herodotus and Thucydides he reviews historians in their periods, though not always chronologically correct, from Greece and Rome and moving into the 'Christian' period.  

Then comes secular history, and more recent attempts at studying the past, England, France and the USA.  Then comes his treatment of the 20th century, in which he developed his ideas and fame.  

I found the book fascinating, especially in the earlier studies, as I at least knew something about them, but his later subjects I sometimes found myself lost, these are no use if you have not read French or other unknown authors.  Interesting it was, but confusing to an intellectual misfit like myself.  

All who study history will find something in this book, published in 2007, but as it progressed my reading slowed.  This speaks more for my lack of knowledge than the authors writing.

Well worth a read, if you have time.

Amtrak 52

Metro Jacksonville

 

Once the morning repast had been dealt with I floundered around trying to decide my next move.  

This took a while.

I could have gone out into the sunshine and cold wind to spend cash at the supermarket, but just could not be bothered.  Instead I sat around cogitating slowly, reading the grubby newspapers and once again checking Twitter to see if any intelligent life had landed.  There was nothing to report.

Then 52 came through.

Amtrak 52 is an unusual train.  It runs up from Orlando, Florida, to just outside Washington DC.  This train comprises one or two engines, around 16 coaches, and these days around 25- 30 Auto Cars.  These are trucks that contain cars, or automobiles if you are a US citizen.  The people travel down from the north, especially at this time of year with snow falling, to the Florida sunshine, and Donald Trump.  To do this they let the train take the strain as a very famous deviant once took money for saying, and put their cars in the auto trucks so they can drive them around Florida chasing or being chased by the 'Sunshine Girls.'  

Being 'Thanksgiving' Weekend there has been lots of to and froing from the masses, each either seeking time with, or avoiding time with their families.  So all the trains have been busy, and Mr Amtrak must be coining it in this weekend.  

There is a well worked routine for loading and unloading the cars.  Looking via Google Maps it is possible to see the cars in 6 sidings awaiting loading, then they are joined together following the coaches and off they go, usually on time.  

The coaches appear to be off two types, some have seats, other have single or double 'rooms.'  Shower facilities are on each coach, and of course there is a dining car for Breakfast, lunch and tea.  Therefore, you can either join others stuffing your face, or sitting in the viewing car, or lay about in your small room watching the East coast of the USA drift past.  The individual room is a good idea as passenger trains are not priorities in the US, the lines are owned by the freight companies, and they come first.  Any break down and you could wait for hours before continuing on.  

In such circumstances I may not mind to tell the truth.

The rail watchers on Virtual Railways play a wee game as the 52 passes north, and indeed the 53, as the train returns south.  The trick is to guess the number of engines, coaches and auto cars.  Simple games satisfy simple lives, and wee intellectuals are a not drawn into such things, well actually...

So this morning as 52 passed in the poring rain, and it was Aberdeen rain this morning, I suggested to myself it would be 2/16/28, of course it was 2/16/25, wrong again.  A silly game but those regulars who participate find it fun.  It amazes me how as we grow out of childhood we return to finding fun in silly games, the type adolescents despise, but folks above 25 often enjoy.  We are strange creatures.  

The overnight train, taking two days and sometimes three, is the 'Southwest Chief,' or 4 as it is known, the trains carrying names and numbers, even numbers one way, odd numbers the reverse.  4 Runs from Los Angeles Station to Chicago.  Now, I do not wish to be in either Los Angeles or Chicago but I reckon travel by rail would be a good way to actually 'see' the USA.  You could travel by road, but all highways look the same, the advantage there being the ability to stop and ponder, but rail is more comfortable, food is on hand, sleep nearby, and an attendant at all times available.  I could do with one of those!

However, the thought of spending $1500 to do the trip when I reject the idea of spending £5 to travel by bus here puts me off.  One day when fit and healthy, rich and spoilt, I may do this.  Chances are I will not.