Camulodunum, Charity Shops, Gays in Gents, Hastening Bus Drivers, War Memorials, and Corn Fields and Blue Skies.

I hesitated about going out today yesterday, I was tired physically but my brain was needing a change of scenery.  Just being indoors I begin to go 'stir crazy.'  So, I trooped of early to catch the 10:20 bus.  We left at 10:28, and not just because of the Zimmer users.  I looked forward to green fields, waving corn, and gray skies.  At least the sky was often gray.  

We had not gone far, just about to leave the town border as a woman with pushchair and 3 years old attempted to leave the bus.  The pushchair was easy enough but the kid would not move.  Mum encouraged, demanded, apologised to the passengers, took his toy, but he would not leave the bus.  Screaming ensued, from him, while we all grinned and laughed.  Mum took action, slinging him screaming over her shoulder and forged her way off the bus.  Everyone laughed, almost all of us have either been the mum or the kid, as it were!

Having left 8 minutes late we naturally arrived one minute early!  Considering we faced three road blockages, one from BT Outreach replacing telegraph poles and digging holes, one from routine road works, and one from traffic blocking cars half parked on road and pavement.  Why not on the pavement, there is no-one around, it's a country house, why block a busy road?  

On arrival I hobbled slowly through one or two remaining charity shops.  Some have gone since I was last here about 4 years ago. It amazes me how things change so quickly.  What were charity shops were now doing good, but expensive business.  How can such shops survive here but not in our town?  

The picture?  I have no idea.  She stands there, marching all in black, along the street, why?  What or who does she represent?  I have no idea.

Having ensured sufficient water before I left I visited the Gents.  While clean and modern they are also these days a meeting place for gay boys.  I entered not long after what I assumed to be a normal man but found him standing right next to a another with several spaces empty.  I noisily, very noisily, used a not so clean cubicle.  A perversion, legalised for the privacy of your own home, now appears to be standard in this Gents as it is in so many others.  If such activity is legal how come they are gathering in such places?  Have they no clubs to meet in, no cafe's, why use this place in an underhand manner.  The man I followed had left as I made for the door, but the early arrival was still there.   I was tempted to say something but would only have caused offence.  At least offence I may not be too unhappy to cause.  However, I refrained and moved on.

Having searched more shops, Millets (nice hats with huge prices), Edinburgh Woollen Mill (Based in Hawick, full of old people and charging £210 for a Tweed jacket), and a walk through Waterstones without looking in case I bought something, I took the obligatory War Memorial picture.  This one says so much about the people of the time, the need to glorify a war in which so many died, the need to show off the towns wealth, and the link to fables as History.  I do however admire the statues on offer, though spiders have been making use of them these days.

I considered rummaging through the crowds, sitting in one of the overpriced pubs, or eating at a greasy spoon café, but decided to run for the bus instead.  My knees had seen enough, nothing worth buying had appeared, and I was realising just how weary I had become.  So, obtaining, for £1:19, a bottle of 'Aqua,' a plastic bottle of cold Romanian water I made for the bus stand.  Romanian bottled water with a Latin name?  Well I suppose since Trajan took over what was then called Dacia in the year 106 AD, the Roman influence has been felt there.  The name, or one similar is attested some 400 or so years back but how Roman the people are today after the last couple of hundred years is anyone's guess. 

The water was almost cold, the bus was almost due, my task was to find it.  Once again the bus stops had changed.  Many people stood staring at the timetables while searching for their bus, their stop and soon their bus passes.  I was one of them!  After some time I worked out what 'Ac' meant, wandered slowly in that direction, found the bus waiting but without a driver.  Several waited, glancing at the watches, while the driver, sitting on a seat nearby, ignored them.  

The bus driver on the 10:20 was a happy soul, this one, when he arrived, was not.  Grunting to the boarding passengers he then treated us to a display of sharp braking, caused by going too fast and suddenly finding a stop required.  Consistently racing along when he could, only to sit in a suitable place and wait while the timetable caught up with him, and he even attempted to avoid one man trying to board as he did not wish to miss the green light at the road works.  We spent an hour being thrown forward constantly until we arrived, still breathing bus fumes in spite of all the open windows, at our destination.  We clambered off, but not as fast as the driver, as he headed for home.  At least we know why he was miserable, the end of a long, warm day driving a bus full of the public!

On the way, while bouncing back and forth, I attempted to make use of my little aged Leica.  This wee camera is old, full of dust, and I was looking through a filthy window that has not been cleaned for a while.  The results as you can see are not great.  I was however, glad to see the fields, though quite a few have been turned into expensive houses for the Camulodunum elite.  

On occasions the sun had shone, the clouds gathered, and after I got home the rain fell.  I let it, I was too tired to care.  I have to realise I am not fit, I and not 32 as I claim, and I canny do too much at the same time.  I must pace my wizened body better.  Last night I ate everything that lay around, finished the Brandy, and slept well.  Today I eat and sleep, while clearing up all those things on the laptop that are outdated or useless links that have long since died.  

In truth yesterday was a disappointing day.  The town itself was quieter than usual, I think they have stopped buses running through the main streets, the shops same as always, most people quite sociable, and half the bus drivers happy at work.  Imagine, not only did I walk through Waterstones without buying, I avoided the other bookshops, the charity books also, and came away with nothing.  I really was too tired!

Old Photos

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

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

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

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

Bored

 

Having chosen to remain indoors, once I had nipped out for breakfast, I have been struggling to find decent pictures form what little lies around me, hence starry fruit!  I wondered what that button would do.

   

What do you mean "I think you've had enough sir?"

Playing with the buttons has many effects, especially the effects that make me spend time trying to work out what went wrong!  How many folks have had one of these beauties?  I suppose everyone had a ''Brownie' camera at one time, some of you old enough to have had a 'Box Brownie' I suspect! 

The only one I actually used was the Minolta, a bargain at £125 from a shop in North Finchley many years ago.  How many blurred, distorted, obscure, wrongly exposed and totally naff pictures did I take with that camera?  It was fun mind!  

I suppose most pictures today are taken on mobile phones, and the majority of them are 'selfies' by wee girls exposing themselves for young men to take notice.  I remain unsure that 'selfies' are a good thing myself.  While I understand their use I reckon far too many of these are taken at the wrong time and in the wrong place. 

Maybe I'm just jealous.

The 'Glums' agree with me...

Memory, Why Doesn't it Work?

RBK

This aged picture of a London Trotters cart was taken around the 50's/60's, I forget exactly.  I came across it sorting through things tonight.  The Trotters were rag & bone men, an early type of recycling that has long gone out of fashion.  'Steptoe & Son'  is a famous TV sitcom based on one family somewhere in Shepherds Bush trying to make a living.  There is a little emblem on the cart, could it be a council one?  I wish I had time to search through the RBK site now.  This site is full of old pictures and tales from the libraries of Kensington & Chelsea.  Well worth a look.

The use of horse and carts is rarely seen today although some breweries still use them occasionally.  My dad used one to deliver milk in the early 50's and Dunfermline Co-op were still using them until the mid sixties.  I rarely saw them in London when I lived there however one horse, bored with waiting for the boss to come out of the pub, straddled the pavement to ensure he got attention from someone on one occasion.  The St Cuthberts Co-op in Edinburgh not only used horse deliveries into the late 60's they also looked after the queens horses when she bothered to use the Scottish Royal Coach.  I suspect some London based civil servant will have sold it now.  

How good memory is in making such sights appear enjoyable, a light relief from the cares of the day. However for the man working them there was no relief until he had got back to the depot, settled the horse in a stall, cleaned up and made his way home.  It's easier to switch off an engine that deal with a horse. The pay then was poor, nothing for being sick, and sacked for anything almost. Still the sun shone more then, maybe.

Memory is useful when retracing your steps as I had to today.  I noticed the battery in the camera was running low and I mused as to whether it would work if I went out then and now.  No time to ponder, I got ready and made my way out before the rain began.  As I crossed the road the rain began.  I walked through the drizzle gardens, replacing a wreath or two blown by the wind from the memorial, and headed into town.  As I left the 'Poundshop' clutching my three for two bottles of cheap bleach, oh how I live in luxury, I noticed the camera was not in my pocket, a pocket usually kept shut by a zip. Oh dear thought I, someone has pinched it or I dropped it when replacing that wreath. How could I live without the camera?  Bad enough waiting to get it repaired let alone lose it.  What if it had been nicked, how, when, oh dear!  I splashed my way, faster somewhat, through the glistening trail, down the road, through the gardens, back home.  No sign, if dropped it was lifted and gone, no chance of that returning. Naturally as I got home I found it on the desk where I had left it after checking the battery.  The stupid old fool had forgotten to put it in the pocket.  Memory you see, I need one!

.

Fraught Friday

I have sent my sick camera of to my sick brother so he can remove the dust from the lens.  He is the expert and I am banned from such tech work, mostly because of ineptitude and the possibility I would set the house on fire!  Since school where my four legged magazine rack sat happily on three legs right up to the massive holes in the wall that appeared when attempting to pin a picture up there my mechanical skills have been as efficient as everything else I get started on.  Having a wee bit more time I look around the house and not the things that await correction, most will still be awaiting in a years time I reckon, those not waiting will have been seriously wounded but not necessarily healed.  At least some form of camera will return, probably by Christmas!

so fraught I watched the football and forgot to finish this...

A Bit of Fun

A charity concerned with Dementia care arranged a 'fun day' in the town today. The idea being to collect money from various stalls and activities plus inform the town about a growing problem amongst us these days.  I suppose dementia has always been here but we just referred to it as old folks going 'Gag,' or possibly it is because we live longer these days and it is more of a problem. With this in mind I was in the museum on hand in case things got busy.  Pah! Not busy enough, the schools returning and holidays passed folks are returning to normal and kids are not being taken to places that cost.  There was a trickle of people, a Melbourne couple whom we had a laugh (why do Aussies use such strange words?), a local seeking ways to entertain his visitors which led to a discussion about railways and my giving him what turned out to be incorrect information, a couple from land unknown who tried to pass a forign coin off on us, Pth! One ageing somewhat confused lass turned up struggling to find the entrance to the Cafe set up by the Dementia people.  This was at the far end of the building right in front of her! I carefully carried her thence!  Why do the young ones not throw themselves at me like the old ones do I ask? There were a few others looking I happily showed one young woman around our new photographic exhibition of old Braintree pictures.  She ought to pay but I let her have a quick look as being with a bored half asleep child I thought she needed some intellectual stimulus, from the pics that is, not me!  

Lovely old cameras on show to match the ages covered by the pictures.  Simply by casually mentioning to each woman who looked round the exhibition that she was 'too young' to remember what was pictured I made one or two folks day.  This always appears to have the same response. Often I take them by the hand and welcome them and ask if they have brought their father for a look round the museum, the girls are always pleased by this their menfolk however never appear to be quite so happy, often appearing to be choking somewhat.   

In the market music was being used to entertain the shoppers. While the folks in the pub, right next to the band, were happy about this enquiries at the fruit and veg stall immediately to the right of the picture gave a somewhat less eager response.  Not quite sure what the emotions were as it is difficult to express words when the teeth are grinding together.  Sadly the attempt to picture the three dolts  people on horse costumes did not quite work out.  The nearby Tombola Stall cost me a pound and the ten year old running it was very sympathetic, grumbling she had been unable to give away any prizes so far. I've seen Lotteries run that way I almost but didn't say.

Amongst the stalls in the centre Belly Dancers were on offer.  By 'on offer I mean the girls were belly dancing, I don't mean they were on offer on a stall or anything, please don't misunderstand as I did as you get some very frosty looks. Few Sheikhs live this way as far as I know so where this idea came from I know not, but it was pleasing exercise judging by the audience response. The three appeared to be happy in their work although it was slowing down by the time muggins arrived.  The view from the rear was appreciated more than that from the front it appeared to me.  

All this under typical September wind, rain and sunshine weather.  The weather held for the most part but did force some folks into the museum and paying customers are always welcomed, even if they are concessions!  

   

 .

Trauma!

Trauma!  That's the only word.  Happy as Larry (who he?) I skipped cheerily across the park, speaking to white butterflies as they bitterflied by, smiling at passersby (which stops them hanging around near you) and wallowing in the bright sun when it popped its smiling head out between the clouds.  
Then it happened!
I put my hand in my pocket and realised I had left my wee camera behind!
Shock!
It has been so long since I obtained this wee camera and I carry it always.  Now however it was not there, the pocket was empty, the camera snuggled in my jacket pocket, the very ageing jacket I was not wearing.  I stopped, I stared, sweat, cold and eerie, rolled of my forehead.  There was, I knew, nothing to photograph, I have done this town a hundred times, but I needed the camera in my pocket or I was naked, and that is not a sight to admire. My hands began to tremble, dizziness swung me this way and that, my heart beat awfully fast, spiders crawled across my vision my vision. 
I began to sob.
The decision had to be made, do I continue my journey or return all the way back home, just under a hundred yards away?  There was no choice but to return.  I turned, the trembling and sobbing died away, my head cleared, the perspiration eased  and I walked into a spiders web. How sticky is that stuff!
Armed and content, with my wee camera rubbing against my life savings off 32 pence I smiled once again and headed into the bustling town.  I was bustled back and forth as I toured the charity shops, checking the jackets on offer.  One almost fitted, but as usual these shops only stock jackets that are just exactly the wrong size for me.  The nice woman in the shop agreed rather too keenly that my body may be the wrong size.  Hmmm.

As expected nothing happened.  There were no photo opportunities to speak off, all had been seen before, I need to move elsewhere, to a different town, and so I returned just in time to listen into the Scottish football on the Glasgow based 'Sportsound.'  Yes indeed the season has opened once again, with an excellent game last night between Partick Thistle and Dundee United, and once again I find myself involved with such games much more than I could be with the costly English game.  If it didn't rain so much I might go back there!

.

Representation of the People?

In times past I liked to take portrait pictures.  I must have taken hundreds of pictures of people and have at least one really good one and two I like.  Now I only have the wee camera, and no models, I don't take any, which is irksome.  However I always collect such portraits if I see any I like, either paintings or photos.  Today I found myself wandering through sites offering vintage portraits and I am amazed so many see the light of day.  There is something about these I like.  The attractive women, the clever way they have been posed, the expressions.  A good portrait offers you the real person, and the person does not always like what they see!  Some photographers have a way of making the sitter what the photographer wishes them to be rather than what they actually are, and this irritates.  There are those who put the sitter in a box, or with a background that makes them something other than themselves, these are often famous photographers, but the subject is not in my view themselves, just a mannequin.  

The use of light and dark, the background that forces the eye onto the light areas is very Rembrandt like.  I think it was Karsh, a famous portrait photographer, who was instructed to spend time in art galleries studying Rembrants work before he began his own.  It shows in what he produced.  Karsh made his name during the war with a famous 'bulldog' picture of Churchill.  He obtained this after the first pose revealed a smiling Prime Minister with an expression usually give to grandchildren.  Karsh stepped forward, said "Sorry Prime Minister," and grabbed his cigar out of his hand.  The resultant expression of disgust gave the world the appropriate picture.

One day when rich I will get a camera similar to the aged Zenith 'E' or the Minolta, scrape together a lens of around 105 -150 length and go find myself some willing (cheap) models.

Until then I trawl the net.

     

.

Rip Off!

To avoid the almost non stop BBC coverage of the BBC internal problems with Jimmy Saville and the programmes that were not allowed to expose him but managed to expose another, and an innocent one at that, and the BBC's marvellous way of paying a Director General off with a massive Golden Handshake, I turned to other things.

Tonight I mused on rip off prices.  The camera above,  Zenit - E, a Soviet made camera, cheap and cheerful and ideal for an Irish wedding I was told. How? well when the fight starts everyone swings their cameras club like but nothing survives bar the Zenit!  Built like a brick it was heavy but it did give a feeling of security!   However the digital camera revolution has ended film cameras stone dead.  Old cameras are still available and indeed collectors items, a good quality Leica will cost good money.   The other week when in the big city (they call it) I passed a camera shop with a window stuffed with second hand (sorry, second user!) cameras.  I noted the prices and noted my shock to see a Zenit-E on sale for £65.  £65!!!!!  A few years ago they were going for £5-10.  How people rip us off when they think we will buy.  

When I think of this I am in a state of shock.  Time for a lie down, for a few hours I reckon.

Cameras

As a kid my first experience of photography was the 'Kodak Brownie 127' camera.  The big fat oval shaped beast enabled me to produce my first blurred picture, at the zoo I recall.  The camera was used on many occasions, usually by my dad, but rarely by myself.  I suppose this enabled the black box to survive so long! I did have some sort of rubbish camera around 1970 and attempted to get the thing to work.  This had similar success to my picture in the zoo!  Rude murmurings from those around me distracted my learning process and my interest waned somewhat. Later, far removed from such 'friends,' I did try a 'Lomo LC-A' camera, which was a Russian produced piece of rubbish that has become a cult among some. One day in the late seventies, before most of my readers were born, I purchased a 'Zorki-4,'  from somewhere. This camera began after the war in a factory that had been produced a 'Fed' camera, a poor imitation of a 'Leica' camera. Such copies abounded after Leica introduced their high quality produce during the twenties and thirties.  These Russian cameras worked well enough, and were being produced right up till 1978.  Then one day my brother gave me a 'Zenit-E' of dubious age and condition.  

Lomo

My brother, ten years older and nowhere near as good looking, took to photography in a big way.  So much so that he ended up in the RAF photography section. After his demob his mechanical knowledge saw him repair Leica cameras until his retirement.  At one point I myself considered the RAF but while the nice sergeant informed me of all the good times I could find in the services, good pay, friends, travel and so on, he forgot to mention the millions of armed men standing guard throughout western Europe.  He also forgot to mention the nuclear bombers and fighters high above as we spoke training for nuclear war, although he did say I could learn a trade, death probably!  The photography section was closed at that time so I declined the joy of being told my eyesight was so poor I could not be accepted, and also my habit of screaming "We are all going to die!" would unsettle other crewmen on the aircraft.I dared not inform my brother I had considered this as I felt he may resign!  He still doesn't know.  

Zorki

The Zorki was an excellent camera for a simple amateur, or so I was called rather too often by some. However mine had a small problem in that a hole appeared in the screen and if I recall right my brother took it to fix and I never saw it again!  However the Zenit made up for this.  The Zenit was an SLR camera with TTL metering. Certainly the metering was aged and of dubious quality but I took many pictures with that camera and thoroughly enjoyed using it.  In time I added extension tubes, enabling me to take close ups of objects.  I had wished to do this for many years, since one day I had watched a bumble bee happily brushing the pollen from his fur into those pockets on his legs.  He stayed outside my window for ages and I had no means to take his picture, and extension tubes were the answer.  Naturally once I had them no bumble bee has come my way.  The Zenit was a popular camera, cheap, as the Soviets wanted foreign exchange, easy to use, and as it weighted a ton it was marvelous for Irish weddings.  Simply by keeping the beast in its case, grabbing the strap firmly, and then swinging it around the head it became a terror weapon in such circumstances. As the ambulancemen loaded up the guests you would be enabled to take photographs of both the wounded and their broken cameras.  The Zenit was photography's equivalent of the T-34 Tank! 

     Camerapedia

Enjoyable though the Zenit was I had seen enough Irish weddings and spent £125 on a good second hand Minolta X-300.  This was, and is a great camera for such as I. By adding a couple of lenses I was soon able to see great distances and into folks windows got shots of objects far away. The only problem I found was settling down on a south coast beach, with the Isle of Wight in the near distance, yachts making their way up the Solent, hundreds of pictures available, all the lenses, filters, and other things I never understood standing by, and realising I had run out of film! I can see that view still.  I did enjoy taking portraits of people, if I could get them to stand still long enough.  Candid shots I find a but invasive but I have taken thousands of pics of people and now have three good ones to show for it!  Very enjoyable this hobby.  Quite why we enjoy it so much I sometimes wonder, especially when looking at old pictures and wondering who, or what, I am looking at!  However since it arrived on the scene photography has always been popular.  When Kodak enabled the majority to benefit with the 'Box Brownie (and who hasn't got one somewhere in the family even today?) and a wide variety of folding cameras a rich heritage of photographs has been left for us all. I never fail to be amazed at some of the pictures I find on the web, from the 'ordinary' person let alone the one willing to pay a bit more for the camera.  People have such an eye for the unusual, the humerous and the beauty around us.  Looking at pictures takes us out of ourselves in a way that differs from reading prose.  That too can open windows in the mind but a photo makes it easier, and brings us a more factual representation of a situation and can set the mind enquiring about life.

Digital cameras have revolutionised photography in a way unimaginable just twenty years ago!  No fiddling with films, no waiting for developing, and by clever use of the pc it is possible to improve the picture in front of us.  A snap taken now can be uploaded and transported worldwide in minutes!  The pocket size makes it easy to slip in the pocket, and the use of a small screen instead of an even smaller viewer enables more options for picture taking, fantastic I say!  One day, when rich, I will obtain a bigger version, although not a Leica!  I will also find some friends and take a few portraits again as I have not done that for years. Daft I know but this is one of my favourite activities these days, simple and enjoyable, and I still don't comprehend just why it should be so enjoyable, but it is!



.

Wet Monday!

.
The day started by appreciating the rain teeming down outside. "That will please the farmers," said I. There was no point in being upset myself, so I just got on with life, in my usual 'happy go lucky manner.' Tsk! A bit of rain and people grumble so. I am not one to complain myself as I see no point in this as it gets us nowhere, so I just got on with my day, smiling cheerfully at those passing by outside. Few returned my smiles however, but I suppose at six thirty in the morning some folks find happiness difficult? Anyway as I browsed the papers I noticed that a camera similar to this one, which I believe to be a replica rather than an original  :-

Leica 0                         

a 'Leica 0.'  An original one of these was sold at auction for one million pounds! One million just for a camera made in 1923? I had a Leica from the 1930's and found it difficult to get the best out of the thing, mostly because I am an idiot, partly because it takes some getting used to. These are the 'Rolls Royce' of cameras however and most owners have their cameras serviced regularly, and at a price most of us would not pay for a camera in the first place!. However most owners are professional or serious amateurs and use them constantly, so the cost is worth it. I would be happy to own one of their latest digital efforts mind you, if I could afford the three thousand pounds.....

A sad situation nearby today. One of the streets in which I used to deliver mail saw the murder of the woman and her child, a toddler under three. A man shot himself, apparently, when surrounded by police. A cheery lass from what I remember, although it is some time since I was there, and very sad that a child died because a  man is not allowed to see her, if that indeed was the cause. How emotion, selfishness, and anger get the better of us!  So many people appear able to find guns these days, I suppose that tells you something about those who carry them!

How I laughed this afternoon. I noticed the rain had ceased teeming down and the sun was attempting to break through the, now white, clouds. I decided it was time to move! I gathered the bag of old clothes and detritus other goodies and took it down to the charity shop for mental folk. (In Edinburgh these are called 'Hibernian Supporters') and deposited it there. Walking out of the shop I noted the sun on my face and happily strolled down the hill to the cemetery where I continued my search for dead Great War soldiers. As the four I wished to find did not have the regulation 'War Graves' headstones I knew it would be a bit of a slog. I found one, eventually, and one or two other interesting finds when there including a soldier not mentioned on the website. The rain returned and encouraged me to make my way home, up the hill, and so I came back, happy, slightly damp, and wondering how long my cheery life will continue like this? Or words to that effect...

.