Early Christian Writings

I read through this book some years ago, and decided to read it again, because I had forgotten most of it!  Books containing the words of those who knew the apostles, or those who knew those who knew the apostles, can bring is near to the men themselves.  This gives us better insight into how the early church went about its business.  Here we have Ignatius and Polycarp, both of whom knew the apostle Paul.  Also, Clement of Rome writing a very long letter to the strong-willed men at Corinth, little changing there since Paul wrote his letters 50 years before.  

Clement was a presbyter (Bishop was not used in the 1st century) of Rome in the late 90s of the first century, he may also have known John, though John was based in Asia, now south-west Turkey at the time.  His letter is more of a dissertation regarding the authority of church leaders.  An authority he wished to see imposed as there were many false teachers wishing to move in and corrupt the church at the time.  This is a very long letter, and we have no idea if anyone in Corinth responded to it.  One of the great problems with the ancients is the way important letters and books disappear in the course of time.  Very annoying.  

Ignatius of Antioch.  He had the dubious delight of debating with the Emperor Trajan, one of Rome's better Emperors, and attempted to justify Christian belief, and their refusal to worship emperors.  Trajan was not convinced, he sent Ignatius to Rome for execution around the year 109.  We have a better idea of Trajan from the Letters of the Younger Pliny 110 AD, where Pliny send his questions re various topics to the Emperor for his opinion.  Among these are questions regarding Christians. 

So Ignatius walked to Rome, no buses were available in those days, and on the way he wrote 7 letters to various churches giving us some understanding of how they operated, and what he wished to see among them.  Again one of his main concerns is the rule by authorised individuals to ensure the true doctrines were being offered, sticking to the teachings of the apostles whom he had met.  It is always very easy for any church to allow other ideas to take hold and lead to sin and heresy very easily.  

One letter is addressed to Polycarp, a younger version of himself, who also had 'sat at the feet of John.'  We also have one letter from Polycarp, followed by a report of his martyrdom when he was around 82 years of age.  Both men died facing the future with their God, Ignatius almost wallowing in the fact that he can be considered worthy enough to die for his God.  

These men knew God in a way we fail to comprehend.

To Diognetus Is a strange kind of apologetic work about which little is known, possibly from the second century.  No ancient writer mentions it.

The Epistle of Barnabas Another strange work, of which little is known, though much speculation follows today.  People prefer the unusual rather than the straight forward of course.

The Didache is the last offering here.  This may have been written in the latter part of the 1st century, or sometime within the next 100 years, scholars are still debating this.  Some reckon the teachings are often Jesus oral words, others teachings from the apostles themselves.  This could be the case, it may not be.  It could be written in Egypt or Syria, again debate continues.  However, early Christians do mention it, and it is considered possible that early churches used it as a teaching manual.  Whatever, it is worth a read.

All these letters and writings, though one or two are doubtful, take us back to the early church, the teachings of the apostles, and the men who knew them and followed them.  I believe it required reading to study such works as we get closer to the beginnings of the faith and the reaction of the early believers.  So much has been added since it is often difficult to know what is true or false.  

This translation is by Maxwell Staniforth, one of two translations for Penguin Books.  Seeking a classical academic career he ended up in the Great War.  After this he worked on railways in Argentina, and then became a vicar in Dorset.  He was a man of his time, as seen by the use of 'Thee and Thou,' when prayer is offered in these pages.  Whether he used 'Thee' in his translations of 'Meditations,' by Marcus Aurelius I have not checked.

I recommend this book.  

Culture Saturday

 

VOTE!

I began another day of joy and constant happiness by rising today, conscious that I must vote, and thereby change the world.  I pushed my way through the masses to find the place empty except for two tables stocked with two servers, and one manager standing to the left.  "Where are they all?" I asked, "It was busy this morning," they lied.  It's always, "It was busy earlier," innit?

Council elections do not draw the crowds, County Council ones appear to draw less, as the council appears to that wee bit further off from the people.  

The poll is in the museum hall and the manager is well known to me.  The six of us chatted, there was plenty of time to do so, while they prepared my voting slip and refused to answer my question as to "Why is there no SNP on here?"

Now, we have a choice of five individuals, all of whom wish to become a County Council Councillor.  The usual parties, Labour, Tory, Reform, Lib Dem, and Green.  I looked up the names of the five men, unusually all men, and found little about them.  The Lib Dem, like almost all the Lib Dems standing in this town comes from Chelmsford, the Reform lives here but comes from Colchester, the rest are local, which is how it ought to be.

But what do we know of them?  Almost nothing!

One states his favourite biscuit is 'Hobnobs.'  Surely we can ask deeper questions that this?

Another is a fellow councillor here known to one other councillor who attends our kirk.  So we have some info, and he likes 'Hobnobs' also.  For the other three I found nothing.  

This surely is not the way to seek election, surely they must make some political statement somewhere along the line?  This leaves most people voting for the party, not the individual, which is more important in such elections as opposed to general elections.  The person is nearer to the people here, why are we so poor in offering information?  I of course ignore the Twitter feeds which daily fill the page with Reform candidates withdrawing, or being withdrawn, by party or constabulary.  

I scribbled my vote to await the result in due course, and set off for Tesco.

£35:20 later I left the friendly checkout girl and took my heavy bag back to the museum.  Here I give a little support by buying their excellent honey, this comes from bees living in a nearby village.  The young girl in charge is well known to me, well known for making me spend money I do not have.  This meant I had to resist her pressure and only spent £10:50, then had to ransack my pockets to find enough loose change to give her some £1 coins as they had not left.  I was then allowed to tour the latest exhibition in the museum.  

This was magnificent.  The new curator has made changes and vastly improved the displays, building on what went before.  I was impressed with what she has done with the Great War stuff, and other local history is well noted.  This is indeed a very good local museum and deserves much mention.  The big exhibit was the between wars art deco stuff produced by the main businesses, the cloth and silk mills, in the town. This reminded me of one of my aunts, she was a child of the 20s and much in her house spoke of those days.  Being old I find a connection to the past via aunts and uncles, as well as parents, especially when some of them were born in the Victorian age, and their ideas, books, and attitudes spoke of times past.  Much better attitudes than today I hear you say.  Possibly, as most of them saw two wars, a general strike, near poverty, and a depression, that gives a different view on life.

 

Our new recycling bins arrived today.  Because of lack of space we had been promised the non-standard boxes, we got both!  Coming home from Tesco's I ate and fell asleep, when I awoke we were surrounded by bins.  These are not being used until June, 3 weeks away, and take up a lot of space.  Just how this will work will be intriguing, as we have 3 cars already, and with two flats about to be leased possibly 2 more, plus bins, life will be great in the car park.  We also have 8 boxes now!  I'm to weary to care today, maybe tomorrow I'll look out again.

Police State

Being a Bank Holiday Monday I expected life to be quiet, and so it has been.  So quiet that I went downstairs against my bodies wishes, and began cutting down the even growing bush in the front.  Taking a Tesco plastic bag for the bits I was surprised as to how long the stems were considering I had only looked at the thing the other day.  Anyway, I clipped them down to prevent them from growing ten feet high again, and managed to bag it all up. 

As I began this, a strange small white van raced out off our car park, screaming tyres as he roared away up the road.  This was strange as I did not recognise the vehicle, and racing cars do not normally head into the one way system forcing to race back again. 

I pondered upon this as I took the hoe out and began shuffling the ever-growing weeds that were beginning to show themselves again.  For the most part I just shoved the hoe under them to make them die, most being too small to be worth gathering, the larger ones dumped with the bush.  

As I was finishing the white van reappeared.  

He screamed to a halt just at my door, the squat driver and his mate leaping out to cries of "Oi Stop!" and raced after another gentleman who disappeared into our car park.  Once again I pondered, fearing we had a drugs gang fight round the back.  Just then several uniformed police came panting down the road and went round the back to investigate.  

A handful of young women, no more than 20 years if that, followed, one crying, "I don't want him arrested, I said I don't want him arrested!" The driver of the white van returned to the van informing her in the best police manner to "Shut up!" and drove off at speed down the road.

Shortly after he left the uniformed branch returned with a large gentleman, less shirt, cuffed and obviously willing to help the police with their enquiries.  

By this time most people had stopped to watch, one or two passing understandable comments as they passed me, and another police car arrived to join in, just in case.  My neighbours, living round the back, would have had a close up view of the action there, and they popped out to watch them as they placed the gentleman in their vehicle.  I am not sure about the ages of the girls involved, but they returned to the skatepark across the road where I suspect the situation arose.  They may still be schoolgirls after all.

My neighbours smirked, I leant on my hoe at the door, all calmed down, and I realised that pushing a heavy trolley on Saturday, and attempting to work today, was not pleasing the bones.  I realised again that in spite of all the anti-police stories in the media, and there are indeed some bad ones, it is clear that we need such men, and one woman, to ensure we can sleep peacefully at night. However, now the jobs are done, and that man will be done, and now we eat and prepare for tonight's important football match.    

 

A Walk in a Graveyard

I discovered a fault on my Great War website the other day.  I needed to look up a name, and he was not found.  This surprised me somewhat.  On investigation into these Google free sites I found the problem, the Google site.  Once, when I began this, it was easy to scribble words and insert pictures. Google, to save a few quid, while making billions listening in to all our chats, changed it to a new system, this does not work easily.

Everything depends on little boxes, but adding a picture to the box, while sounding simple, just does not work!  The picture may insert, but it is ten times too big, cutting it down makes the words shrink also!

Therefore, it causes red mist while attempting to fill the page.

On inspection, I discovered the missing man had escaped with several others.  This meant digging out the information and reinserting it, and it comes out somewhat differently to what was there before.  I will not tell you about inserting that picture!  Grrrrrrrrrrr!

However, after perusing the site, making amends elsewhere also, I was glad to have put it all back together for the interest of friends and family who may find it useful.  

 

 

Doing this, reminded me of the time spent wandering about the two town graveyards, seeking out the men, and one woman, who died during the conflict.  The idea of enjoying a cemetery is not one we usually consider, however, it can be interesting to wander round on a good, and quiet day.

Most graveyards can go back to the 1700s, some even further.  This often means names are worn away, depending on the material, and occasionally someone has made the effort to clean these up.  Most have the famous, the great and the good together whether they like it or not.  Many richer folks could wangle a spot nearer the church, sometimes inside it, and the paupers, well into the present day are buried respectfully 'over there.'  

Most large tombstones appear to me to be 19th century, when class distinction was important.  Having worked your way up to be someone of importance in town you expect a stone to remark on your position.  Sometimes looking at such memorials I wonder if these people are still trying to be alive, even when dead.     

 

Reading the memorials can sometimes be quite touching.  A mother who dies in childbirth, the child who dies from diseases we hope they do not catch today, the man accidentally killed during war.  A careful reading of the tombs can take you back in time through incidents that reflect on today, nothing changes, human nature remains the same, what is has been, and will be again.  

The other thing that comes to mind in a graveyard is how easily these people have been forgotten.  It is rare to see a recent posy left at a grave from over a hundred years past.  Many remember the war victims however, but great granny is often forgotten, and a distant relative in a tomb with faded words is not remembered.  Sometimes when inspired by Ancestry or the like, we tour the tombs looking for an uncle.  My niece did this in Newington in Edinburgh but could not find a mention, even the council did not have a record of the name.  I know he is there, I watched as he was buried, and the slow steam train, somewhat apologetically drifting clankingly by as the minister spoke, but no stone have been left there it seems.     

 

Sometimes care is required as on occasion a funeral may be taking place, and it is best to be at the other end of the ground.  Some people come and stand at a graveside, a husband, a father, a wife, it is not possible to know, nor is it possible to understand why they are there, but there they are.  They may stand silent, some talk to the grave, one man parked his disability scooter at his wife's grave and sat there reading the paper early in the morning.  After 50 years of ignoring her at breakfast he did not wish to give up the habit.  

Wildlife can be abundant in such places.  Birds flit through the trees, squirrels, voles or are they rats?  Bats in some at night, the local fox of course, often with cubs, or maybe a roebuck running away from you.  Pleasant for us and the wildlife.  I did see a small deer give birth in the graveyard closer to home about a year ago, it was not possible to get closer obviously, but the quiet nature of the place allowed mum to have her child.

I do see some problems mind.  Recently dead children can have an abundance of toys and gifts left on their grave.  Sometimes to the annoyance of neighbours.  Some mothers give too much when alive, and even more if the child dies.  We can all appreciate the emotions, however, sometimes less is more. A more dangerous concern is stones, frequently very large, falling over while people pass by.  Some councils have taken to knocking them all over to prevent insurance claims.  This is quite sad, especially when the name might be famous in the area.  

I just remembered, Fun posted about Highgate Cemetery the other day, now that is a post on cemeteries worth looking at.

If you can stomach it, I recommend a sunny day wander around a graveyard, especially in a large town.  Who knows who you will uncover, that is, don't uncover anyone, just look at the names I mean.

 

Sleepwalkers, 1914.

The common answer to the question, 'Who started the Great War?' is usually 'Germany.'  Those in Germany may well say 'France.'  The answer sought by the author here comes up with a more realistic appraisal, it was all of them!  

The problem with world politics is simple, it is run by men!  The difficulty there is they have their own opinions, their own understandings of the political situation at home and abroad, and a need to keep their jobs first and foremost.  This means all nations in the years before 1914 were run by governments filled with those enthusiastic for war, and those enthusiastic for peace.  One side saw war as the way to ensure the economy, their opponents saw it the opposite way.  Individual characters come to the fore here.  Strong men with a decent understanding of the circumstances could easily lead a nation for peace or war.  In several European nations at the time it appears the strong had a tendency for war, for whatever reason, and in the end took advantage of the circumstances to prevail.  While almost all understood the potential disaster a European war could lead to, almost all in favour of war tended to put this to one side hoping a three or four month war would soon be over.  It turns out they were mistaken.

In attempting to understand the Great Wars beginning the author works his way through the individuals at the heart of the matter.  Beginning in the Balkans, where Serbian expansion rubbed up against the Austro-Hungarian Empire.  Then through the individuals in the smaller states, and onto the large powerful nations of Europe, France, Russia and Germany, with the UK at all times desiring to avoid a European conflict, Christopher Clark, the professor of History at Cambridge, gives us the official reports, diaries, and letters and more from the leading men in all states.  

It is not always good reading as fighting for their job and their own desires for or against war was uppermost in all.  Somewhere capable and powerful men, others appear more devious than capable.  The UK Foreign Secretary Sir Edward Grey, was a man who spoke no foreign language, understood little re foreigners, and was reluctant to inform the cabinet, or indeed anyone else, about his talks with France and other nations.  His lack of openness to the UK cabinet alongside his talks with the French which left an opening for various interpretations, was a great cause in the UK entering this war.  

Clark covers the polarisation of the European minds, the growing fear of 'the other nations' threat,' and then the unfortunate assassination of the Archduke Ferdinand in Sarajevo.  He covers the confused Austrian response, the delays, and the people who really began the war before anyone else, the Russians!  The Kaiser and the Tsar were both hesitant about war, Wilhelm pretended he wanted it, the Tsar did his best to avoid it.  King George was like the UK government unwilling to seek a war and agreed with his governments desire to avoid war.  It was not kings that brought war, it was government ministers and military officers who concluded that war now could be won, a war later may be lost.  Remember, this was a war of men.  When the Germans counted their army at 860,000, they saw over a million and growing in Russia, plus the French who were tied to Russia.  Men as weapons were central to this war.  Mobilise too slowly and the war could be lost, so when the Russians mobilised before the Austrians the Germans declared war.  Peace was lost.

This is a big book of 592 pages of small font.  It took me ages to get through it, though I learned so much and was fascinated by the way political power operated at the time.  There have been changes since, both nationally and internationally, but as we have seen recently these can easily be broken.

This is a book well worth a read.  I recommend it for those who want to know why we 'sleepwalked' to war, as we already know the outcome.  A good book.

Books and Mobiles

I am working my way through the books on the table, slowly.  There are three I am reading, one or two I dip into now and again, and others which have landed there also.  Some are light reading, others a wee bit heavier, the big one had several hundred pages of small font to work through, and I am nearing an end to that one.  

However, ignoring the books on the bookshelf that as yet are unread, and those on theshelf  I wish to read again, I found I had to accidentally buy two more books, just to use up a 'Waterstones voucher,' from Christmas.  I did not wish it to go off lying there so made use of it.  One has been begun, the other, another 500 pages of smallish font, lies on the 'to read,' pile.  On the one hand I canny wait to get into them, and on the other I still have to finish the others first.  This while putting the world to right via Twitter and BluSky means time is not always available to read.  However, four more games and football ceases, at least until the world cup, so maybe then I can get through some pages.

Of course Royal Mail claimed they would deliver the book parcel yesterday, they told me so by an efficient email system.  Then the claimed it would be now delivered in the afternoon.  Then they claimed there had been no answer so it would be delivered today.  LIES!  All LIES!  They lazy afternoon shift did not bother todeliver as he wanted off to watch the football last night, lazy good for nothing.

However, today the regular postman delivered the book, he was the man who ought to deliver it anyway.  At least he is usually the regular man and does his job well.  And I know what his job entails these days having done most of it myselfin times past.

The UK government are considering banning Under 16s from using mobile phones in schools and indeed everywhere else.  Is this a good thing?  Is it required by the UK?  Not in my mind.  Kids have many uses for phones, and not just pictures of one anothers bits.  Keeping kids safe at school and on their way home is one.  All sorts of emergencies can arise and require a phone.  Their education will also suffer greatly if banned, but this is not what all this may be about.   

What might be in the wind is the governments capture of info from your phone or laptop without your knowledge.  'Palantir,'  Peter Theil's devious system of collecting everyone's data so he can control your life, is at the base of this.  Possibly this is the control spoken of in Revelation!  Indeed that comes to mind.   Theil has an apocalytic view of the end times, to remove western liberalism from the world, his mate Steve Bannon has similar it appears.  Both work together through the UK and US leaders to push their way into controlling our lives.  Check them out, and be worried.  

The nazi takeover of the UK continues.

Friends

I had a phone call today from an old friend, I don't have any young ones.  She moved away about 1980 and married well to produce a family in the Midlands.  How many memories were brought back, how many names, how many times did she slap me down just like in the old days!  

It was good to remember how life was back then.  The people all moved on, life is like that, yet she has retained many friends from that time.  The thing is she, was a woman that attracted men.  I remember one young lass complaining to me that while she was attractive, when my friend entered the room all the men gathered around her, not the attractive one.  This is true and it was because of her personality, strong, friendly and very capable, that men were drawn to her.  I was not drawn to her at all at first, not until she brought me a word from the Lord one day which changed my life.  We then used to meet on a Monday night and spend the evening discussing the others in the church, and mostly laughing!  

Once she moved away we lost contact, which I now regret, and older, possibly wiser, and certainly less healthy, she has kidney troubles, we connected immediately and she began to bully me in the old ways.  Some things never chanage with women.

For many getting older means less people.  Retirement means no daily contact with work colleagues, no transport there and back.  Often old men alone will sit and mope, not bothering to get out to meet folk.  Some die this way.  Unhealthy people are often trapped inside, alone and bored, unless they get on the internet and seek a life out there.  Some just sit and watch dead TV all day and die anyway.  The best old people are those that keep working when they can.  An ex- serviceman died this week, he was 109.  He had been working at the Foodbank until he was 100.  An 89 year old referee was refereeing matches still, children's games maybe but still working.  It is when you stop, lose interest that you die.

Of course whe phoned ona  Saturday afternoon when the football was on and had been forbidden to do so.  That shows the type of woman she is.  I've spent ages trying to catch up.

Biscuits or Taking the Biscuit?

First job today was to fill the biscuit barrel.  An exciting job as I am never quite sure as to what will result.  Today I had once again produced two lots of very thick biscuits, though some may object to the use of that term.  Junk food is an alternative opinion of some.  

Whether such beats made of imitation 'Stork,' flour, oats and syrup from a plastic bottle are healthy and nutritious is a debate I will not waste time upon.  I have noted however, that my weight has increased since I made the last lot, not that long ago.  

Maybe I ought to try selling them at the monthly market, without giving my address, obviously.

I note Ed Milliband has suddenly appeared on TV informing the world that he did not trust Mandelson.  This is indeed true, he kept well aware from him when he failed as Labour Leader.  Now he is reappearing, alongside Angela Rayner, Andy Burnham, and I expect our friend Wes Streeting with be stabbing other cabinet ministers in the back, all to take the place of the soon to depart Prime Minister.

Are any of them worth it?

Half the cabinet is owned by Israel.  Whoever takes over has to deal with that one way or another.   

In the meantime we await the news from No 10.  Who will Israel appoint as its next lackey?

I'm Sorry I haven't a Clue.

 

These programmes have appeared on YouTube recently, well, I have just found them there, and these have been making me laugh at times, almost laughing too much.  Of course they tend to have episodes that are a wee bit too crude for us decent folks, but they are funny other than that little drawback.  

I find it strange that someone is able to make money from these old programmes, it must be legal or it would have been stopped.  

I much prefer the older versions with Humphrey Lyttleton, the Toff, educated at Eton, served in the Grenadier Guards, and became a beatnik while also becoming the UKs leading  Trad Jazz trumpeter.  A firm favourite with Jazz lovers everywhere, and plays a grumpy host awaiting a gig in Hull extremely well throughout each series.

Worth a listen at least once.

Day Trip

Tuesday saw me travel down to Liverpool Street Station to meet a friend.  This is becoming a habit.

The smooth train, for the most part, people quiet, getting busier as we neared Liverpool Street itself, and without a cow on the line, signal failure, or pedestrians blocking the line at Shenfield we made it on time.  

This time I found I had forgotten my wallet so he generously paid for the coffee and cake.  A place called the 'Black Sheep,' fed us by inserting the details on a screen on the wall, watching another screen as your number informed you of the orders progress, and going to the bar to collect.  However, even he with a Cambridge degree could not make it work, so he talked to the young woman at the bar and got through via a human.  

Another good time, another tip back though this time I got an early train and changed at Chelmsford.  With the wait I took out the mobile and found the camera is not very good.  I forgot to take his picture, rather annoying as as he moves away I might never see him again.  

Having retired from leading a church they are now heading off into the seaside parts of the world.  Even if their house sells for a good bit they will not find a cheap one where they wish to go.  Having not seen him for years it was a good time.  

I cogitated on the return on housing.  How do you house so many people?   These five storey flats look quite good, but so many, so close together, no escape from people or noise at any time.  I wonder if any have been sold?  

Even these green fields are being planned for housing.  In some areas early building work has commenced, and I doubt these will be much needed council homes.  Anyway, I got home, via Tesco, where I was so tired by now I bought plenty, but forgot to buy my dinner.

Sunday Sermon

 

Cat

Meet Cheeky.  This was our cat a great many years ago.  I mention him because of a clip on Twitter of a Turkish mayor.  He was sitting in his chair, addressing the meeting of the council when a kitten appeared climbing up upon him.  Laughter all around as the kitten rubbed itself onto his face, climbed up onto his shoulders and eventually he was seen trying to settle it on his knee.  He can control a budget and a police force but kittens are harder to deal with.  

Cheeky, back in the early 70s, would lie on me until 1:30.  Then he would wake me, force me downstairs, through the stair back door, pictured here, and stare into the gardens meaningfully.  Quite how I got the picture I canny mind.  After his study of the land he took off round the building, I went to the front stair door where he returned, but only half way in, so he could examine the darkness in the front area.  All the time he was seeing things I could not see.  Satisfied, he went back upstairs, climbed upon me as I tried to sleep, and did this night after night!

 We were given the cat as a kitten.  My brother-in-law worked in Bathgate's truck plant where the factory cat had given birth to 8 kittens.  He took one for the kids, but they were too young to appreciate the care required, and he was to violent a kitten for them.  This meant he was dumped upon us, and lived a full life.  He took to owning us, and ensuring we followed his advice.  When my young niece was living with us he took to drinking tea from her cup.  We obtained a new cup for her, but any time we had tea Cheeky also had to have one, or he gave us one of those Margaret Thatcher glares.  

This got me to thinking about the public up and down the land all obeying the dog, cat, parrot or exotic animal that owns their house.  Big or small, the creature is lord of the manor, all have to meet the animals needs and all must obey his moods.  Failure to obey can cause trouble.  

Rescue animals often require further help.  My sister was given a cat a while after her man died, this was to keep her company.  The rest of the family are afraid of it!  He does not like being touched, disturbed or you being near, but he will remind my sister re feeding and bedtime.  He also wakes her at 3 am to have his head scratched.  Reiko, is a step back from this, but both animals having been badly treated before are coming round to the new home.  It takes time but will have some degree of success.

Money is made with animals!

Around £10 Billion is spent on animals each year in the UK.  A dog costing around £500 for food, depending on how you feed it, a cat less so, at least that is what they say.  Insurance might be more for a dog, but vet fees are huge at all times, the majority of vets now being owned by US conglomerates, so prices rise.   Animals are more fun than a child, and less expensive, some say.  Girlfriends are of course more expensive...

Artemis II

Wired

Artemis II flew around the moon recently, the media everywhere was full of praise.

Why?

I saw them fly around the moon many years ago, and then I sat up late at night watching a man or two walk around on the moon itself.  Unless it was staged in Arizona of course.

Several US men walked across the moon, the Chinese, who years before had photographed the back side of the moon have also been landing things there.  NASA have machines crawling across Mars so why all the excitement about a well chosen crew, political correctness enforced, flying around it once again while sending back more photographs similar to those we already had 70 years ago?

Now such activities are difficult, much easier with today's computers in comparison with the ones from the past.  Those were less powerful than my calculator, but they made it there and back again.  

Could it be that this was another excellent opportunity to praise the power of the United States while avoiding talking about the child rapist in the White House and the war he lost while following Bibi's orders?  Flying around the moon is not easy, but propaganda has always been easy, and we have some here in front of us.

'Communities,'  what does this mean?

Every day and everywhere you go this word crops up.  Governments and councils talk about 'Helping our communities,' what?  What communities?  This town has around 40,000, how many 'communities' are there within?  

There are the old and the young, those working and those disabled, shops and shoppers, transport links and users, what communities can they mean?  People get involved with the gym, or the pub, kids work or libraries, volunteering or mini cabbing, what do they mean by communities unless they mean people living and doing what they do in town?  

The word 'communities,' implies lots of different communities.  In a town there is only one, the people living there, and many of them we do not wish to have near us, is this a 'community?'  Various colours can be seen, is communities a word used to integrate or divide?  Tell me!   I once heard a London police officer, under stress from the press, say "We are in the community to help the community for the sake of the community."  Whatever that is supposed to mean I fail to comprehend.  

There are no 'communities, only people.  These live in cities, towns and villages, those are their community, but they do not always like one another, so is it a community, or just people living near one another?  

Language changes constantly, sometimes the words used ought to be dropped in my view.

Heritage railways

Geof Sheppard

It's that time of year again.  The time when the once great railway engines from the past race at 25 mph across the countryside bringing joy to many, and an occasional fire to the farmers.  

These trains do not reach excessive speeds these days, they travel on lines that once connected small places to large, brought milk, vegetables, and meat into town centres, and brought people a life they could never have experienced before 1825 as walking was for most the only travel option.  By 1851 travel between Edinburgh and London, that took up to 14 days by stagecoach, was shortened to 12 hours, give or take a breakdown or two.  By 1914 railways covered the land, and indeed much of the rest of the world, the real superstar of the 19th century.  Railways changed the world in a way nothing else had until computers came into desktop size.  

The West Somerset Railway, not only covers a line that was ended by the 'Beeching Report,' back in the 60s, it covers it with cameras at many of the stations.  Thus we can see how life was, and the many tourists and holiday makers making the most of it, as the steam engines or aged diesels make their way from Bishops Lydeard to  Minehead.  The sounds are evocative.  A train leaving the station brings back memories for many over, er 35, and as it chuffs away the image of such trains, black and often only basically treated by the late 60s, comes to mind.  Other sounds also stir the heart, the slamming of doors, the cries of the porters, the seagulls cry as the sea is not far from many stations on this line.  How many took this train for a day out, or later for the one weeks holiday granted them, by the sea?      

Today this railway teaches and informs many young of a daily life now long gone.  Some would bring it back, but once it has passed it must remain in the memory and the heart, but never return, todays trains are really much better, and the fireman no longer is required to shift several tones of coal each trip.  I bet he is glad about that.  Also, the young lads, 13 or 14, who had to start work at 2 or 3 am and clean out the smouldering fires from engines that had finished their day, or build the fire on those preparing to work.  Fine in July and August, terrible in winter!  They would consider todays railway much better for their health I think.

Easter Sunday 2026

 

Fruit!

This off colour picture reveals the latest fad.  A mix of South African Figs (fresh, reduced ), raisins (South Africa), Blueberries (Peru), Medjool Dates (Jordan, the best ones) Strawberries (Spain, also reduced), and I forgot to add the apple and orange that were far from me.  Add to this single cream and I have my fruit for the day.

Several short jet trips, soon to cease as there will be no fuel because of the child rapist in the White House, a little pollution and a vast increase in profit for Mr Sainsburys and 'fresh' fruit is on my table.  Quite how fresh this is can be questioned.  Peru is six thousand miles away from here, Spain a shot flight, South Africa another continent away, so how 'fresh' is fresh?

I find Blueberries last several days in the fridge, strawberries about an hour!  However, I like these dates and even though I actually prefer dried figs I will have more of these even if £2 a go.  Tesco will be cheaper and they have more choice than the 'get rich quick' people at Sainsburys.  

Such delicacies were unknown in my childhood.  Moroccan dates Christmas, in a long box with a plastic or wooden stick inside, could be found, but not during the year.  Figs were heard off, raisins common, probably because they were cheapest fruit, strawberries were a luxury but only in season.  Blueberries of course we had never heard off, brambles found on hedges sometimes could be obtained, some folks gathered them to make jam.  

It was the arrival of Asians from West Africa in the 70s that changed things.  They offered fruits and veg that only the rich could afford, and then they offered them at an affordable price.  Opening their shops for longer hours and stocking almost everything under the sun made them popular and very useful.  

Such luxury items are good for the health, and keep you on the run...

Good Friday

 

Mons Meg

 

Electrician

So a message appears on the phone from the landlord's electrician, "I need to do remedial work, Monday or Wednesday."

"OK, better makes that Monday."

"OK."

He deliberately did not say what 'remedial work.' and I was not going to ask, so I could sleep without worrying.  He came today and began replacing the main frame, taking two hours, and replacing plugs which have to be lifted high these days.  

I escaped to Sainsburys for Easter Eggs, and real eggs.  

The real eggs have more health than the palm oil ones.

I hobbled around the corner in no hurry to go home, and bought Amazon Cards for the many birthdays that are on the horizon.  I also tried the new butcher, who may be gay, for sausages, and will find out if they are worth pursuing or not.  The old butcher could not cope with the rates and meat prices, I wonder how this lot can?  

Back home the place is confused, but the lights now work, and once he finished, bar the bit he could not do today as my desk and a ton of stuff are in the way, cleaned up after him, and raced off to another job I sat down to eat.  

My routine has gone, I have no idea what to do now.

The routine is important, without that everything gets forgotten and lunch is late, or missed again, and the 'To Do' list is also half finished.  Where would we be without daily routine?  Once they finish working many men are lost without the daily struggle for work.  Wives kick them out to avoid their routine being disturbed, and some die without the routine to follow or the purpose and friendship of work.  

Not me.

I'm still here.

My usual routine begins with checking if I am still alive, scanning the laptop to find out what day, month and time it is.  Then breakfast, pray, and go back to bed.  I'm not sure what happens after that.

Tomorrow's routine includes returning things back to their place, and going back to bed, but not in that order.

Some people worry about war in the Middle East, I worry about shifting things.  That's much more normal today.