Fish and Dust

 

 

I took this down near Bournemouth some time ago, I suspect that after Brexit it is now our entire fishing fleet on the south coast of England!  I suspect he hunts for 'Pilchards,' a type of fish that was so common during the hungry war years that nobody wished to see any more.  So, to sell it afterwards they had to change the name to 'Sardines!'  Funnily enough the 'Sardines' I remember from my childhood were much smaller, more like 'Anchovies,' but maybe Scots fishermen found the fish they were catching were not as well fed as those in the rich south?

  

The day was slow, I was dog-tired today for no good reason, I will blame the 'Jab' because I see no other cause.  I did wake up enough in the afternoon to tidy my desk, it has clearly been a long time since I did that, polished it, and then sorted the books on the other 'sideboard.'  Dust everywhere, mostly on me, but now all is tidy, in order and the smell of polish fills the room.

That's enough work for today...

 

Now I'm Not One to Complain...

Daily Mail

A glance at the media reveals much about the election, the 'Daily Mail' has put meaningless things such as a tennis players wedding and a boat race for 'toffs' above the election because the Conservative Party is struggling.

Andy whatsisname clearly is an outstanding tennis player, even though tennis ranks as a 'sport' so boring that someone invented Basketball to make tennis look interesting, they failed by the way. Here he is in the middle of a media scrum with crowds of women peering at the dress as if it was important. The wee town of Dunblane would be an ideal place to avoid today if there was anything resembling a brain inside your head, if not join the throng and gape at nothing.  

As if that was not bad enough I was lucky enough to be sitting in a cemetery where more excitement could be found than on the banks of the River Thames where a boat race between university teams took place.  Normally this incident passes of without notice even though it fills precious TV airtime yet today it was called 'historic' by stupid people.  You see today they let the girls race on the same day and women everywhere proved their ineligibility for voting by making a fuss about this.  

Now normally when the Olympics occurs I manage to miss most of it, especially when English toffs treat Scotland with the usual disrespect, but rowing is one thing I like to watch.  It is a gentle sport, for the viewer, as teams of big hulks tear their limbs apart rowing for miles to win a medal.  I like watching this even if it is merely girlies pulling the oars.  However having listened to one of these harridans whining this morning about the horrid treatment they suffer, not being allowed to use the men's changing rooms, having to pay up to £2000 to row etc, I felt little sympathy for these rich little darlings.  They can afford the cash, daddy pays anyway, if they wish a changing hut why not build one or buy a suitable building? They will not do this as they want it for free, from the men!

I want equality!  I want every road gang to be half female and half male, I want the same for scaffolders, miners and 'white van men,' I want the number of murdered men to be the same as that of murdered women instead of 90% being male.  I wish men got the same 'consideration' in court females are allowed 'because of circumstances.'  I wish for all male selection quotas for election candidates, I wish men could win compensation for 'sexism' the way women do, poor dears.  I wish equality but it will not happen.

A 'historic event?' You rowed a boat in a race no-one cares about bar yourselves and the 'elite.'  You did nothing while men throughout the nation did a vast number of important things, but they will never be made known.

   Telegraph

Golf, the 'Masters' is being played but only shown on 'Sky.'  This means I have missed it.  Sadly I never realised I was missing it until tonight.  I can suffer on without it and I suspect the world will remain the same.  

After rising early and finding the weather being somewhat dreich putting off my plans I was forced by circumstances to return to bed this morning.  Of course this was much against my will but I struggled through, snoring appropriately, and made the best of it.  The plans for doing something having failed I decided to cycle downhill to the other cemetery and redo the photos from their.  This I did manfully fighting the wind that decided to blow from the north with a needless intensity.  The job done, the men still lying where they had been, I sat and watched the trees with my better camera awaiting the opportunity to picture the wildlife.  None appeared!  A squirrel in the distance alongside a Magpie were the sum of it all.  Birds chirped hidden from deep inside the trees but I could not see them.  

I gave up, returned the doings to their place, looked for the bike and lo , high overhead two Kestrel type birds appeared searching for lunch.  By the time I was ready for them they were miles away!  I suppose they were a mating pair as it is unusual to see two such birds together.  Why did they wait until I was homeward bound?  

However I returned in time for the Scottish football which does not really concern us until tomorrow when we play Hibernian.  I listened to the games online while my bones creaked and the muscles tightened slowly.  I stretched, I stretched again, I fell on the floor, I groaned, I stretched, I made no difference. All this cycling is harder than it was last year, I really feel it this time.  I might need to get one of those oarswomen to give me a massage, it makes a better use of them I say.

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Dreaming...

Yonks ago I was down at Maldon wandering along the quay there.  A lovely estuary with a couple of barges and some other boats to be seen.  Most of this part of Essex is low lying estuary  filled with the yachts of the wealthy.  At least you need to be wealthy to buy one of these things and then learn how to drive one.  There have been such craft sheltered around here for generations, indeed one reason the Romans chose Colchester as their home was the ease of boats from Rome trundling up the river and almost into the town.  The yachts are a wee bit more sophisticated today but admirable as they are I refer something with a bit of character and this Tugboat suits me more than an expensive boat.
Now I realise you are indicating somewhat caustically that the last time I was at sea was standing on the old bridge at Leith harbour and even then I felt seasick however I would like to dream about being a sailor!  The crossing off the oceans, on a quiet day that is, would be enjoyable I say.  Slowly cruising past Greek Islands, wandering about the Indian ocean, or viewing the landmass of Australia - from a distance, would be intriguing.  Actually all that on a small cruise ship, with good lunches and competent crew, might be better than slogging around on an old tug.  The only problem with cruise ships as far as I can see would be the other passengers!  
Ho hum, I must go and dream on....

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Interesting Scotia Happenings

gCaptain

'Gardyloo,' as you well know, was the exclamation shouted from old Edinburgh tenements when someone wished to empty their 'pisspot' into the gutter that ran down the middle of the narrow close.  Such a load offered from several floors above, some buildings reaching ten stories, was not the most pleasant part of Edinburgh past.  Walking through it on the way ho,e from the tavern would not have been a barrel of laughs either I suspect.  Hygiene was not much improved anywhere in what is laughingly referred to as the 'United Kingdom' until the middle of the nineteenth century.  Then Ministers of Health were to be found in most cities and sewerage, slum clearance, clean water and soap brought much needed improvements.  Edinburgh, not surprisingly, produced some of the best and most inventive doctors in the world!  They had a lot to go on, as it were.  

During the twentieth century, which some of you may be old enough to remember, Scotland's capital still had problems with sewage.  By this time pipes ran way out into the Firth of Forth depositing unwanted material into the waters where it would be passed on into the north Sea. This is the same same North Sea where our Haddock came from and they kindly recycled the stuff back to us through the many 'chippies.'  I recall the early 70's when Edinburgh streets were in upheaval as a new sewage works arrived down Portobello way at Seafield.  Normally this seaside 'resort,' I use that word sparingly, contained the youthful Hibernian players and their fans idling the day's away while bigger clubs participated in European competition, however during this decade the contents of the sewage pipes had failed to reach the Haddock in the North Sea and instead arrived unwelcome on Porty beach.  Some folks still swam!  Leith people eh?  The council swiftly moved into action, once a backhander had arrived, allegedly, thousands of tons of new, clean sand was deposited, the new sewage works opened  and people removed the clothes pegs from their noses.

This was not without mishap of course.   While working in the infirmary one chap (English of course) arrived in the ward, both hands tied to a rack keeping his arms in the air.  Behind him came a nurse carrying a small bowl containing several of his fingers, or bits of his fingers.  He then had Professor James sew them back on again.  I spent the next two weeks looking after him, doing all those things you wish you could do yourself, until he was considered fit enough to return home.  I wonder how his hands are now?   Possibly the shaving cuts have healed also?  He was a warning that when fixing a large industrial fan, make sure it will not swing round swiftly when your hands are inside!

The fitters work at the Seafield plant may have been good, at least up till someone switched the fan on, but Edinburgh still had an excess of waste to deal with, this is where the 'Bovril Boats' come in!  'Bovril' itself as you know was an invention of an Edinburgh Butcher, John Lawson Johnson.  He later moved to Canada (because Edinburgh was too warm?) where his 'beef glaze' was developed into 'Bovril' as we know it today.  This he sold to Napoleon's army and made his name and his money!  However the substance also gave its name to the 'sludge boats.'  To remove the contents of the sewers boats collected from sewage farms as much as they could contain and sailed into recognised areas at sea and dumped the lot for the tides to disperse. From 1978, while I existed on a pittance in a hole in a wall in Notting Hill the M.V. Gardyloo operating from Leith Docks, took up to half a million metric  tonnes of 'sludge' from the people of Edinburgh, and headed of to St Abbs Head or the 'Bell Rock' to release its contents there.  For twenty years this interesting operation continued.  However while the dumping ground was carefully chosen, and the ship 'ponged' a wee bit the interesting thing was the passengers!  At no charge twelve passengers were entertained on the short trip and were given breakfast, coffee and biscuits, lunch and even their tea while they inspect the sea life on the islands in the Forth, especially the Bass Rock I suspect.  In between using binoculars on nesting seabirds or examining the wheelhouse the ship would dump its load on unsuspecting Cod.  Their opinion has not been recorded.  A very good day out this seems to me and I wish I had known of its existence at the time.  I would have been aboard at a shot!  Sadly EU regulations forbade such dumping in 1998 and these boats curtailed their employment and were passed on to others for less exciting work. The 'Gardyloo' now transports 'fresh water' for Azerbaijan!  The Seafield Water Treatment Works, a nice way to say 'sewage,' continues the work, although much attention is required concerning the 'odour' that local citizens may notice from time to time.  Some £50 million may have to be spent to deal with that.  The boat was cheaper!

BBC

From 1950 until 1953 the United Nations fought its first war, this took place in Korea.  The 'Cold War' had begun and used third world countries as battlefields.  Our fifty years of peace were fifty years of war for Africa, South East Asia and Central and South America, among others.  Fifty to a hundred million died, still, we were doing OK so that's alright then.  The Japanese had dominated Korea for around a hundred years and when removed in 1945 a political decision meant the nation was divided between the Soviets to the north and the USA to the south.  The two nations began to develop along different lines and in June 1950 the Communist North invaded the South making the UN rush into action - eventually.  An army comprising twenty nations, with almost 90% being American, arrived under 'Mad Boy' MacArthur.  The United Kingdom, still devastated after the defeat of Hitler, sent a large number of troops to this war, much against public opinion!  Two major wars in fifty years, a depression and now with rationing still ongoing few cared about a nation they had never heard off.   However a force built from the Commonwealth was sent.  The British Commonwealth Forces Korea (BCFK) comprised Australian, New Zealand, Indian, Canadian and British  forces and numbered 100,000 men and this was always led by an Australian. For the most part however these men have been forgotten!  The British units involved are named here.  

Allowing for the lack of news at the time, TV was in its beginning after the war and the Radio and newspapers appeared to play down the war itself.  Indeed one returning soldier stepped of a train in Edinburgh's Waverly Station where a friend greeted him.  When asked where he had been he replied "Korea," and his friend had no idea what he was talking about!  The war was so badly reported because no-one wished to know.  The Britain of the early fifties was rebuilding after the war, houses were in desperately short supply, wages were low, the ravages of war and the building of families and a new life took precedence.  The men who served, and suffered greatly, were forgotten.  As indeed were those in Britain's other small wars, the 'End of Empire' wars.  

Now however this new enlarged memorial has been opened to remember those Scots who served before they all pass away.  Situated in  West Lothian, of a Korean design, surrounded by Scots and Korean trees to represent the dead, the hills also suggest Korea to those who were there.  Many died there, many were traumatised, as any 19 year old on National Service would be!  Forgotten on their return, ignored at the time, these men endured for their country as did those from the other conflicts since that time.  It is good that something is done to remember their actions. 

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Christchurch Priory

To get away from her indoors for a few hours out of the house he and I drove around the edge of town looking at the horrendous flooding that has occurred in this region.  Huge acres were covered in water, much more than in previous years.  The fields were covered in numbers of swans rather than horses.  Interesting to look at from the safety of the car, although not when the stuff swamped the roads, but not what I would wish outside my door.  Driving through some small interesting red bricked villages, never designed for vehicle traffic, we arrived eventually at Christchurch where we sauntered among the Boxing Day walkers braving the howling wind.  The swans eagerly gathered around those foolish enough to wear themselves out and sit on the sheltered benches for a sandwich.  The tide here was so high at one point it had actually reached as high as the benches, these were covered with the detritus left behind by the water.

Much wealth found around this area.  Even in the days of long ago this area was inhabited, it was well developed by the time the Romans arrived and later saw the Saxons move in.  It is thought a chap named Birnius erected a minster here around the late 600's.  This was demolished by the Norman chaps once they took over and in their humble manner they rebuilt the place in solid stone.  The church was part of the Augustinian Monastery which began in 1094 and lasted as such until Henry 8 dissolved the monasteries in1539 to find himself an heir. It Typical Norman stone arches stand proud and are always worth a look in my (very) humble opinion.

The 'quire' stalls are decorated with intricate carvings.  It was here the monks would worship during compline or matins.  Whether the constant construction and reconstruction bothered them I know not.  Today I notice the stalls have red cushions on them, I wonder if this was always the case?  

Christchurch took this name in the 12th century when the story of the 'miraculous beam' began.  Since the dissolution the church has served as a parish church for the area.  Just as well this is a wealthy area, the upkeep must be enormous.  It must always have cost a fortune to keep the fabric of the building in shape.  The number of masons and such like who have worked here must be enormous also.  The carvings found here are worth a look.  When in such places I cannot help but think of the thousands who have passed through for whatever reason in the past, some leaving their graffiti as they did so, others their memory is found on a tablet folks rich enough have placed on the walls.     

Today the vicar is a man who actually knows his God, something unusual amongst Anglicans I can tell you, however he is far from perfect, he is an American!  Imagine!   The Victorians naturally decided the vicar required a home equated with his status and a red brick house stands at the edge of the grounds.  As always I cannot ignore the lovely door, note the beginning of the yellow lines at the bottom of the steps.

What a way to spend Boxing Day, while stayed where she ought to, cooking lunch for our return.  What a great woman!  The one thing that keeps her inside at such times is the idea of passing by the waterside, especially in a cold wind.  She hates that.  Such trips ensure a constant supply of fabulous dinners.   

2012 ends soon and I will be glad to see the back of the year.  Hogmany will hopefully bring a better year tomorrow.  I hope so for all our sakes.   

   

QE2

There are three ideas about the monarchy.  One is the total opposition, based on democratic equality or just spiteful jealousy.  Hard line anti monarchists usually don't think through their opinions and just whine about 'cap doffing,' and 'rich snobs.'  They certainly have a point, and several members of the royal party (yes Andrew I mean you!) could be eliminated without any fuss.  On the other hand there are many monarchists out there. Some with memories of the royal family's attitudes during the war, and the PR was excellent at that time.  During the blitz the queen was asked if the young girls would leave London. "They won't leave without me, and I won't leave without the King, and the King won't leave," came the reply.  For the populace that was what they wished to hear at the time, and that impression remained for years, following on as it did the previous King's resignation for an American gold digger.  Today thousands, mostly women, identify with Diana, another self publicist, and fill their homes with union flags (calling them Union jacks although those are only flown on ships) pictures of royalty, and always at the forefront at street parties and flag waving occasions.  The majority are somewhere in the middle.  Like me they enjoy such pageants, the boats, the crowds having a laugh, the attention seekers, and especially the stories which accompanied the boats yesterday.  We don't support a monarchy and worry about a republic.  A head of state like this queen costs far too much, but a president would have political influence, would probably be a Tony Blair type, and would fail to bring in tourists.  In fact that would have several bad effects all round!  Yesterdays expensive parade was a laugh, except for the drivel offered by the BBC presenters.  "Amazing, fabulous, beautiful, brilliant" they repeated over and over and over, instead of giving something sensible.  My favourite was when some bint came on to discuss the outfits, i had ti turn the sound off then but not before the BBC suit had used the phrase "The queen is like a pearl," at which point I vomited.  Quite what she or Phillip would have said at that point I would not wish to hear.


I find these things hard to take when Union flags are flying.  My inner revulsion at a flag used by England, for England, by a nation that considers the 'United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland,' to be no more than :Greater Englandshire' somewhat repulsive.  I note that at no time did the well trained broadcasters use the phrase 'Queen of England' as so many foreign johnnies do. and complimented them on their fear of a Scots backlash.  My e-mails do make a difference.  I also found the desire of the cheerleaders to encourage the fans to cheer at every opportunity tiring. We know the soggy royalists wanted to let of steam but this was embarrassing.   Not quite as bad as the painters outside Tate Modern, the home of daft art, attempting in the rain to paint the queen as she passed by at 4 mph.  Still it's only a bit of a show, a bit of a laugh.  A time for the kids to have a memory, a time to bring people together, a time to sell Jubilee Mugs and tat. An inoffensive occasion, enlivened by around 80 wet protesters (hundreds the 'Morning Star' claimed which surprised me as I thought the 'Morning Star' died 20 years ago) whining about anti- monarchy, and few noticing.


The UK has a love hate relationship with the monarchy.  The press reflect what matters by surrounding the queen with pictures of Kate and Pippa, this time neither showing tits or bum first, and fussing more about these girls than the occasion.  A great number still want a royal family, the reasons why are many, usually not thought out, and it will take a major mistake or thirty years before any revolution takes place in the UK regarding them.  Of course by then Scotland will be independent, and much less concerned with all this.


It is hard writing early in the morning while stuffing cheese on toast down the gullet.  No wonder this is a mish mash worse than usual!  never mind, I'll get the butler to fix it later. 
 

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Friday Musings

These interesting houses were I read somewhere built by one of the Courtauld's for some of their (better) employees. Unfortunately I cannot find the link again and I am going on memory here. I believe they were built as late as 1926 and appear influenced by the 'Arts & Crafts Movement' begun by the middle class socialist William Morris.  They stand alone, backing on to the allotments that join the playing fields. I often wonder what they are like inside, although glancing at the windows brings scowls from the inhabitants I find, and the only disadvantage they have these days comes from the once large front garden now turned into car parking, and the tiny letterbox which annoys postmen!  Whether they are now on open sale or still tied by some agreement I cannot tell, and being broke don't really care, but I do think that if you make homes for your (better) employees you may as well make them attractive like the ones shown here.  

I saw this picture for the first time many years ago and took to it straight away.  The face of the woman, bored, depressed, or what stuck in my mind.  I just wanted to do something for her.  Who knows why this was painted, possibly it was a genuine situation the artist noted, at least it wasn't more young ballet dancers! The reality of the situation still impresses me, and reality is all that matters. 

During the high winds that crossed the centre of Scotland yesterday, causing no little destruction, flooding and turning over of vehicles, someone, I know not who, took this picture from the train while crossing the Forth Bridge. The Forth Road Bridge behind is deserted, closed because of the winds howling up the Forth from the west, and there in between the bridges we see a small boat cheerfully crossing the Forth in spite of it all. I wonder if this is an official boat, Police or Coastguard perhaps, whatever rather him than me in such weather!


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What?

Sadly I cannot find where I came across this gem, but gem it is.  One of those early experiments at creating a car that can drive on water, or is it a boat that can sail on land?  This is an American attempt from the twenties or possibly early thirties and I wonder if it worked?  I note that the woman has a chauffeur but she has both hands on the wheel, typical!  You can bet when the tyre requires changing he does that bit!  This idea has proved successful once or twice.  A good car that could be used as a boat did succeed to some extent in the sixties but I doubt many were sold.  Of course you will recall the DUKW from the second world war.  This also came from the States as a vehicle was required to aid transporting troops from ships on to shore quickly.  An American engineer took the base of a lorry and added a boat, this became successful and the DUKW transported many men during the war and can still be seen around the coasts occasionally.   A DUKW was chosen to land Churchill and all the senior officers on the day the PM was allowed to cross over to France in 1944. One was in use at Portobello Beach in Edinburgh during the fifties to give trippers a short ride on the Firth of Forth, for ten shillings I believe.  The price is why we never got on it!  Hmmm I wonder if the lassie in that car/boat ever got onto the lake?  Did it sink perhaps?



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