Friday Floundering

The problem with putting things off is that they eventually turn up.  So this morning I was trapped by an ironing board as I had run out of shirts.  This done to the accompaniment of 'Last of the Summer Wine' a programme that reminds me of several men of my acquaintance.  The delight of finishing this chore was enhanced by the arrival of two books that popped through the door.  I must remove that Amazon button.  I did however manage to place these so far from me that I was able to continue work and forget all about them.  Buying books is a habit that must end!   

  
Duty done I sauntered off towards the town and made my way to the charity shops, this one in particular is always offering excellent books, and I happened to accidentally walk in the door as it was open.  However the bad habit of mixing fiction with non-fiction that has appeared recently hinders searching as there is only so much of Victoria Hislop that I can take.  A browse elsewhere in the shop left my money in my pocket though I was irked by others there with their habit of walking into me as if I did not exist, I blame the parents.
One thing I did reflect on was the two men I saw in the distance, one I wished to avoid as I did not wish to speak to him as I have not the four hours to waste, thus I moved the other way, the second man did likewise to avoid me!  How strange to feel ever so slightly miffed at being ignored while ignoring another leaving him possibly miffed, if he actually noticed me.  What a strange conflict there.  Both are decent men, both are worth knowing and both would be acceptable at another time, this was not it.  Yet I feel guilty re one and miffed re another.  Stupid boy!

Here is an interesting thought.  They knocked down the old clinic that once stood here and have almost finished building several tightly packed houses costing up to £340,000.  A glance though the local house ads show that the white ones facing us are still available while the red brick to the right appear to have been purchased.  
I wonder if the reason the most expensive homes on the block have not gone might be the fact they back onto the skatepark?  Now skateparks tend to be where young folks gather, playing on bikes and skateboards during the day and gathering around to share drugs, and sometimes music, at night.  Could it be that this might be said to be a problem when attempting to sell houses?  
There has been some trouble here over the years, gang fights at first, drugs, yobs on motor scooters and now almost silence in the evenings for some reason.  This years adolescents have not gathered to scream and shout late at night like previous groups have done, not as yet anyway but they will.  Would you wish a house there?

The promised Indian summer is not arriving, tomorrow means rain from early on.  No doubt cold, wet weather will soon be a constant and it is a week on Monday before my boiler gets fixed!  Bah!

Breath the Air Deeply

Brian Forbes

There has been a bit of a stink going around.  Some people are finding it a bit much, others just finding breathing a bit much!  It is that time of year again when Farmer Jones gets out the much spreader and covers the fields in the organic manure that is probably a lot cheaper than the chemical ones he buys.  I of course have no idea from where he obtains this stuff and I have no intention of enquiring re the source.  
A couple of days ago it began to work it's way into our consciousness late in the afternoon.  Such an aroma is not hindered by shut windows or scarves wrapped tightly around the face, I can tell you.  This delight seeps into the air and clings to you individual thus allowing the individual to enhance their lungs by breathing deeply and spending several days in hospital retching.  This happens every year yet this is the first time I have noticed people grumbling about this.  When I first arrived I remember being somewhat irked by the air but understood this is what happens when surrounded by fields producing bread.  For a day or two we benefit from this odour but it soon disappears and life continues as always.  Why people complain who have lived here for years I know not, it is part of life in the country.  The town is about three miles wide and two the other way and with lots of farmers actually growing things we are bound to notice their work sometimes.  They do not spend all day driving tractors slowly along the A120 for spite as some claim, they work on occasion and clearly one of them, to the north it seems, has been busy spreading it around.  I look forward to the crop he produces whatever it is.

How stupid can this stupid person be?  I am reading several books at once, two of which have been lying for some time and I picked them up once again while cleaning, and then is a charity shop came across this.  Naturally I took it home and placed it on the pile to be ignored for a while but then accidentally picked it up and began reading.  So that's five books one the go at one time.  Must go I have to read something before the football arrives...   

Camulodunum Trip

Dragging myself out of my pit I raced slowly into Camulodunum today on the zimmer free bus.  This because I wished to peruse the many charity shops in that rich and prosperous town.  This indeed I did but was again frustrated by all charity shops refusal to stock items that fit me!  Usually they are too small, today the only option was to big.  That does not happen often and I suppose I could grow into it but I wish my weight to go in the other direction.  I slogged around even visiting 'Primark' the new shop that sells things cheaply, though I noticed that in the three years since I last visited prices have risen and I am sure the Bangladeshi workers have not had a rise.  Possibly they have made the sweat shops safer since the last disastrous fire there a few years ago.  However I did require cheap jeans and I have them, they fit, sort off, will they after being washed however...?

  
Lunch was taken at noon in a surprisingly quiet pub, £4:65 for a pint of 'Maltsmith IPA' indicates why. The drink was indeed good and worthy of buying again but not at that rip-off price.  It was clear this was an evening venue (Called 'After Office Hours') and aimed at twenty somethings with too much money and not enough brains.       

The modern trend of vast empty spaces and few seats as folks crush together getting cheap thrills and meeting the right people.  The wooden flooring was genuine in pubs I used to visit in days gone by, not s clean and much busier at all times of day, not just overpaid trendy types either.  I suppose we were the trendy types then, sad innit?
Next time I will go back to the 'Hospital Arms' they are just as unfriendly but considerably cheaper.  When I think of it a similar but busier pub down the road was the one I used last time, the beer wasn't so good but cheaper and the girls better looking and alive.  I'll remember that for next time I am charity shop searching.

The bus was of course ten minutes late.  We stood at the stop grasping our varied travel cards and coins glaring hard towards the buses parked just around the corner willing ours to move out.  I retook my seat and allowed the remnants of the beer to chase around my body giving some sort of life to my weakened knees.  It did not liven me up much.  Eventually he  came and I was afraid the women would start shouting at the driver and he would respond by closing the doors and running but they were wise enough to shut it and clamber aboard while they still lived.  

The view, while enjoyable, was not at its best.  The grass in many places has withered and green fields were the colour of the wheat and barley seen in many other places.  Those crops while many were being gathered in are smaller than they ought to be as the several weeks of drought at the wrong time have not helped them.  Here something green, cabbage possibly, difficult to tell when moving, was a decent colour but small in size as seen from the omnibus.  The crops are being gathered and tractors of enormous size block the roads cheerily and very soon such produce will be enabling Tesco to increase their prices 'because of the drought.'  It is rather a shame as it spoils the view somewhat but there again just being out of town and watching the fields instead of the hovel in which I live is a needed change.

Zimmer Bus Day

 

I took a risk in clambering aboard the Zimmer Bus this morning, what with it being half term I expected the bus to be full of kids but as it turned out only one was seen.  She sat at the front with mum and placed 14 stuffed animals on the window in front of her and played with them all journey long.  Thankfully the rest either were away on holiday or found something nearer home to keep them out of trouble.  Most I suspect are rich enough to have a car and drive the brats out of town to a beach or parkland somewhere. 

A quiet journey other than the kid in the front seat and we passed the fields full of green crops awaiting the time to turn golden.  Quite a contrast, the green fields with gently swaying crops on either side of a narrow road full of traffic, much of it heavy traffic at that.  The major roundabout where every main road meets causes several mile tailbacks but just wait until the same fields are given over to the new 'little town' they wish to plant there.  Another entrance to add to the roundabout perhaps, or merely yet longer tailbacks as planners are ignoring the road system being over full even now?  

I am not sure what the three trophies on that sign are supposed to represent.  I am not clear as to whether it is new made to look old or an old sign slowly dying.  I never even looked into what the shop sold.  It did stand out from the Town Hall tower behind and I thought it worth a shot.  I looked into the proper bookshop just before this and forced my hands behnd my back and myself out quickly enough, I am reading three books and have ten more lined up so spending cash on more was not a good idea.  I could not however walk past the bookshop, it kind of dragged me in! 

 

This snatched pic from the bus sums up Camulodunum for me.  On the one hand there is the church tower going back centuries, old buildings, great history, residing alongside derelict shop fronts like this one.  What ought to be a well run tourist town, they refuse to be called 'city' as they claim they are the 'oldest town in England,' is ruined for me by being crowded, dingy and choked by traffic.  Add to this the number of what are called 'homeless' and the place takes on a grubby run down appearance.

The town appears to draw the 'homeless' like no other and I do not understand why.  On a sunny day it is not unusual to see a man, wrapped in blackets or old sleeping bag, sitting in a dark, damp underpass begging for handouts.  Some feel sympathy but I sense a chancer!  No-one begs just anywhere, certain places are money spinenrs and this is one of them, though not much spinning when I passed.  Too many offer coins to such beggers to ese their conscience, some from care and others thinking they may help such people.  All too often they are conned.  If you really wish to help homeless people then give at least £5 a month to a suitable organisation that works amongst them.  That way those that can be helped out of this lifestyle, and who knows what got them into it, these will be given help.  Those that do not want out can be left to it and many chancers who take home good money to add to JSA benefits or just live of the takings can be avoided.  Some of course, and I have a little experience of them, some need really professional help and a few coins may not do them any good.  If the conscience hurts offer a 'Mars Bar' or some such rather than money. Not much can be done about the traffic however, unless banning it all bar buses and taxis can be tried.

This young Starling was having trouble landing on the feeders, he ought to be able by now he comes everyday, and instead filled himslef up with the crumbs lying on the window ledge.  Do you notice I have as yet not got around to the window cleaning part of the 'Spring Clean!'  That may remain the case for a while...

I did however manage to visit every remaining charity shop in Camulodunum and find nothing that I wished for.  The nearest was a jacket that was too small wth a price that was too high!  Anything over a fiver is too high in my opinion.  Only one woman in the shops acknowledged my existence, there were plenty of women around filling the space being acknowleded however, and I note the mens secions in these shops appears to be shrinking.  Maybe the men are not throwing out the stuff they used to, Conservative austerity reaches even here.  

The bus home was empty, although a teenager managed to fill some time loudly talking on her phone to a friend about nothing for a while.  I preferred the child and mother on the way in.  We even arrived ahead of schedule in spite of the drivers attempts to slow down.  More chance to take in the green fields swaying as we passed, more chance to observe blue sky with the sun piercing the clouds, more chance for teeny to talk to her friend about nothing!

 

 

Dunmow Charity Shops

I took it into my head to visit the upper classes yesterday so off I went on the working class bus to an area more Conservative Party than our own.  You can tell the political leanings easily here, outside many million pound houses, and one or two worth slightly less than that, stood blue boards featuring a tree logo with the word 'Conservative' brandished upon it.  This I found somewhat ironic as a very large such board in a field on the edge of Felsted which we passed bore one such tree image and developers passing by would be only too willing to cut down all such trees and fill said field with million pound houses called 'The Meadow,' or 'Three Trees,' or 'Where are the Trees' or the like.  
The charity shops in a town of middle class wealth therefore ought to offer a higher standard of left overs and this indeed is the case here.  However my trawl through the shops failed to find anything I actually wished to spend money on bar a few original birthday cards although there were masses of items my sense of greed took a fancy to.  Foolishly I browsed the bookshelves and came close to buying one tome worth £3:95 until I realised this was only Vol 1, the chance of finding Vol 2 being rather scarce I persuaded myself this was not a good idea.
The volunteers in the shops who I spoke to were friendly, efficient ladies who appeared happy at their work.  This is not always the case in such shops, on too many occasions, caused by nervousness on inability to converse with anyone but the few you identify with, had left me with the impression such shops are run by menopausal women with a grudge against humanity.  Actually I meet them elsewhere often also.  If you are not happy don't be there I say but here in Oxfam the girls were cheerful.  These ladies were a bright advert for the shop in my opinion just as they were last time I passed through yonks ago.

Dunmow grew from a mere Roman crossroads stopping place into a bustling market town in the Medieval times.  Quite where the money comes from now I know not but there is plenty about, the houses outside the town begin at just over a million and while the cheap ones can be found, if you consider a quarter of a million cheap!  How does the normal individual earn enough to get a mortgage for that amount today?  Lawyers and other professionals possibly but you and I?  One thing I note is that people who pay a couple of million for a big house with acres of room plus servants quarters always have an outside swimming pool.  If you pay that much why not cover the thing in and use it all year round?  I suppose it is less for swimming and more for entertaining purposes, sitting around the pool in the evening with wine and backstabbing among friends I suppose.  One thing about such middle classes is the high divorce rate, money does not satisfy and some are rather too keen to share themselves out I reckon. Possibly I have just been reading the 'Telegraph' gossip columns again...?
However the vicar , the Rev Noel Mellish VC. MC. did not have a swimming pool at his town centre abode, he however did have a Victoria Cross awarded for rescuing wounded men over a three day period.  There is little doubt that had he not taken those few volunteers to do this work, returning under fire at first, then a great number of men would have died on those days, no-one else would have brought them in.  Such  a man ought to be remembered by his town folks, later he was the one who informed them from the pulpit that the Second World War had begun.
The rise in wealth hinders the bus however.  With Mercedes, fancy sports cars and those big imitation Jeeps come tanks called 'Jasmine' or 'Jemima' by the female owners parked on one side and Mercedes, sports cars and Jeeps coming the other way, all considering the road belongs to them rather than the common peoples bus, the drivers winding their way through the traffic must have wished they were doing this after the Great War when the bus traffic first began.
Mr Hicks, a well known Essex name, ran a 'Charabanc' from Braintree to Bishops Stortford at that time.  The 'Charabanc' was a simple bus, an uncovered row of seats with a driver at the front that revolutionised communication for the villages round the big towns.  There was the rail link of course but you often had to walk a mile to connect with that and the bus now dropped you at or almost at your door.  By 1952 there was no more rail link for passengers and the bus service, now with covered buses, improved greatly.  Lorry deliveries also hastened development during the nineteen twenties, the ex-army lorries abounded and many ex-servicemen found this the only way to survive in that 'dog eat dog' Conservative led 'austerity' time.
Today the rise in cars numbers, these folks have more than one each, means that the bus now appears only every hour and there have been attempts to end this also by people who don't need it.

 
While I enjoyed by short bus trip in the Australian hot sunshine I had also begun the day at six in the morning by cycling slowly up the old railway line.  How enjoyable that was as few were about and only an occasional mad barking 'Jack Russell' type were there to attack me.  The few other dogs I saw were so happy you could see laughter on their faces as they ran past.  What more can a dog ask than the chance to run free, note a variety of fragrances, the occasional squirrel to chase and a tit bit or two from the owner.   

You may consider this a work of art by some famous unknown artist who has made millions from offering such works to those with too much money and too little taste but you would be mistaken.  This is merely the pond at the far end of my ride where a solitary duck disappeared at my approach and was replaced by a million hovering beasties, the same type of beasties that hover in the shade of bushes in vast hordes awaiting passing cyclists who failing to avoid them end up swallowing the brutes via nose and mouth if great care is not taken.  In this case the sun reflecting of the water hid the brutes.  On occasion those who tarry here will see a collection of local insects buzzing around and a small board has been placed to indicate the general types found.  I saw one Mallard duck and a thousand flies!

   
I thought little of charity shops while watching the sun glint of the leaves and warm the stubs of crops in the fields around me.  Crops that have suffered too little rain for their good and while the sky has been dark, often damp, it has not yielded sufficient to please the farmers at the weathers mercy.  I can hear Sainsburys increasing their prices 'because of shortages' already!'  
However it is good to sit amongst green leaves and sunshine, in spite of the beasties that accompany you.  Rabbits sit upright in the distance wary of your existence, Robins and Blackbirds that a moment before you appeared were happily chomping on such beasties as could be found on the ground disappear while the chaffinches in the trees no longer sing as they wonder just what you are up to.  Still I like it early in the day even if it means my knees will remind me of their suffering later.

Occasional horses can be found trotting slowly along this part, however the day was too early for them.  These gates are to hinder neds who steal scooters or motorbikes and ride them up the old railway late at night when few are about.  While the police occasionally use bikes to cycle along this way these days I still think handing such neds over to the Saudi Authorities might be a good idea.  Maybe we ought to hand the parents over instead, that is if they have mothers.

  
Has anyone heard of a 'Long stay Catholic Church' before?  This one has all mod cons and services!
 

A Shop for Books!

This is one of my favourite shops these days, mostly because of the books the offer.  I keep getting large hardbacks at Two for £1 and that is better than most such shops round here.  On top of this they are books worth having, not the usual rubbish that fills these shelves. 
At the moment I am reading about six books at once, by this I do not mean I hold them all in my hand as I read, I pile them up and pick which one suits the mood.  I've done this for years as books can get dry or the mind requires some stimulus and swapping to another book is an easy option.  Some of course make the brain think and as I am not one for story books (there is a bin for those) I look to easy reading in biographies or travel books or the like.  This procedure extends not just my vocabulary and knowledge it does me absolutely no good at all.  In all the years I have rarely been able to put the reading to profitable use!  I will however continue this endevour and one day I shall be rich.  

One of the prize finds in the shop was this excellent £16:99 worth which cost me a single pound coin, and I could have got two for that price if there had been another worth buying at the time.  That there was another became clear the next week when I went in!  Bah!
After the Second World War comedy in Britain changed greatly.  Before the war US films had brought the fast one liners into the country rather pushing aside the comedians who made their money touring the Music Halls keeping the same script for many years, adapting this depending on the audience and the part of the country in which they performed.  The fast talkers had reached a peak during the war with Arthur Askey and Tommy Handley making great use of the BBC to stimulate the war effort by keeping people laughing.  Askey of course was removed as some of his comments were a wee bit too socialist for the Beeb.  Handley's fast patter was difficult to remove as the nation, and I mean nation, listened in weekly desperate for his humour.
However as the forties were ending and the fifties arrived new humour erupted into the world and two men were leading the change, Frank Muir & Dennis Norden!  Between them their clever humour introduced new characters into the world especially in their programme "Take it From Here." Among the characters were a broken family called "The Glums," this in satirical take off from the more normal cosy middle class families then portrayed on the Wireless.  'Eth' and her dumb  fiance 'Ron' were hysterical listening in the fifties, and the show ran throughout the fifties from 1948 to 1959 and is much missed to this day.  This brought a more realistic type of person into the home via the wireless one people could identify with, we all know a family like the "Glums!"  The show rarely gets thecredit for the use of the line "Infamy! Infamy! They have all got it in for me," which became famous when used by Kenneth Williams in "Carry on Cleo" much later.
Along with Dennis Norden they produced two panel games that also ran for years "My Word" & "My Music," both of which programmes featured them as part of the teams, this in spite of their inability to sing and Nordens unwillingness to appear.  
The Muir & Norden team split up to do their own thing but never actually parted, their differing tastes led them into other spheres and they continued as friends for life.  They had moved into TV creating many long running series for the BBC often featuring 'Jimmy Edwards.'
Muir became responsible for creating TV comedy at the BBC and later at London Weekend Television where he introduced many comedies including the long running "Please Sir," starring John Alderton. 
Frank Muir enjoyed the limelight participating adverts as well as panel shows and put together several books which led him to many signing days at home and abroad all of which he hated.  

Frank Muir's early life was spent in Ramsgate, Kent, hence the title of his book.  A happy life interrupted when his fathers work took them to Leyton, a much better place then than now.  Frank often appeared well educated but the grammar school boy ensured folk knew he was educated in 'E10' not Eton!'  The King requested his attendance at World War Two and Frank enlisted in the RAF in the photography section and spent much time in Iceland where much of his time was taken up in learning how to write for the company.  Later his photography skill was put to use with slow motion film was used in parachute experiments in an effort to end the 'Roman Candle' that is a 'chute failing to open.  Many lives were saved through this work.  He also produced photo's for SOE agents heading for a parachute jump into France, at night at that! 
Frank Muir worked all his life either scribbling books or connected to media work, happily married to Polly he produced two children.  He died in 1998 at the ripe age of 77 and is much missed.

  

Successful Trawl in Charity Shop!

 

 We have at least six charity shops in this town and I ventured into several of them today in my weekly trawl for bargains.  There was a lot of stuff outside the 'Sue Ryder' shop again today and on the top of the box of mugs (there is always a box of mugs they are desperate to get rid off) I found this glorious beast!  A Heart of Midlothian mug!  Clearly someone close by has an understanding of football although it is clear his woman has not.  No man in his right mind would dump a mug of such quality and representing his team at that under any circumstances.  Clearly there has been a falling out and if there has not been there will be when he discovers the mug gone!  

There was a surprised look in that I took only one mug, I had not noticed the price, and when I indicated that having more than one means washing more than one the man accepted this without hesitation and the woman looked at me askance!  She then charged me 30 pence, that's six shillings in real money, and being gracious I offered 50p and told them to put the change (4 shillings) in the offering box.  

What a find, makes me glad to be alive.

    

There is a debate on Twitter at the moment concerning Scots delicacies.  Two lines of thought, one asks what do you call the evening meal?  Is it 'dinner' or is it 'tea?'  Obviously those in the east of Scotland who have been educated correctly refer to the lunch as 'dinner,' that's why school employ 'dinner ladies' who are not employed after five in the evening, and the evening meal is called 'tea.'  Snobs tend to pretend they are among the English higher orders and deliberately act the 'Toom Tabard' by calling their evening meal 'dinner.'  The effrontery of it indeed! 

The second delicacy is a real delicacy, fish suppers.  In the chip shop you order the fish supper, usually Haddock & Chips in Scotland, Cod & Chips in grubby England, and in Edinburgh the sixteen year old (maybe) lassie will ask if you desire "Salt & Sauce?"  The correct answer is "Yes."

In lesser places, such as Glasgow, the 'not quite sure of her gender never mind her age' lassie will give you Salt & Vinegar, polite lassies might ask but don't argue if she/he/it doesn't.   

The Brown Sauce, pronounced 'Broon Sauce' is a mix of broon sauce and vinegar.  It makes fish suppers delicious and has kept a great many Scotsmen from starvation.  The fact that far too many indulge after a night in the pub and forgot the rules of healthy eating does somewhat contribute to Scotland having one of the highest rates of heart disease in the world, only Ireland was higher last time I looked.  A lack of variety in the diet, too much beer and smoking combined with no exercise kills.  However fish suppers occasionally in Edinburgh, and from one of the better chip shops, is indeed a delight not to be missed.

 C4 News

Elsewhere in the world conflict continues.  The picture above comes from Twitter, Kareem Shaheens picture for C4 News, is of Darayya a suburb town of Damascus that has been fought over for four long years siege.  Now those remaining are being allowed to leave, the civilians moving elsewhere, the fighters dropping their arms and going separately to another rebel held part of the country near Turkey.  I wonder whether the rebel fighters will make it?  

The picture is a marvellous insight into the kind of warfare we hear about but fail to take too much notice of.  After all it is a far away country about which we know nothing, except they are Arabs and always fighting one another.  Sadly this fight need never have happened and the news reports even on C4  appear to be somewhat biased against Assad in my view.  This irks me as the whole world is told Assad is a bad man yet few mention that in the middle east he was comparatively gentle in comparison to others.  There are as we know NO good side in the middle east, they are all bad!

Trying to read between the lines it seems to me Sunni Saudia Arabia feared nuclear Shia Iran and was none to happy with Obama's nuclear treaty with Iran.  Syria, Iran's only friend in the region, was a stable state, one in which visitors could travel around much more freely and safely than they could in Saudi.  There were pockets of trouble as in all other middle east nations yet the nation was stable and most were reasonably happy.  The troubles that arose in Darayya surely were encouraged by Saudi & Sunni Qatar, another nation wary of Shia Iran, and these protests met with typical Assad type response.  Tanks soon took to the streets.

Since then the understandable reluctance of Obama to get involved, both Saudi & Qatar are our oil & money rich 'friends' after all, has led to the fall out from the Bush/Blair war in Iraq leading to IS appearing and joining other extreme groups fighting Assad, Turkey, and anyone who happens to be in the area.  With no powerful nation forcing them to stop and Iraq falling apart the fighting increased and the suffering of the civilians, if indeed any are civilians in such a war, increases.

What is the answer?

Now Russia has begun to support Syria Assad has now won two of the three main towns leading the opposition.  Some degree of peace here.  Aleppo will be the next point of attack, unless some other horror intrudes, and the sieeg, the killing, the finger pointing will continue for another year or two.

Who really is the bad guy?  The media tends to point at Assad but he did not start the conflict, others did.  The terror, the torture, the nasty use of weapons occurs on both sides, no innocent party here.  The US & Russia have say some an agreement as to how far both can go even if outwardly it may appears conflicts occur.  The Saudis, in between cutting off hands and crucifying 16 year old's, say little possibly too busy obtaining British bombs to drop on Yemeni children.  David Cameron would not intervene in the 16year old's crucifixion because the 'Saudi's pay us a lot of money.'  Money and oil and self preservation come to the fore here.  Let the Arabs kill one another but let us remember the money they give us also.

What is the answer to this war?  I don't know.

Last week Celtic played an Israeli team in the European Champions League.  At this game many Celtic fans waved Palestinian flags (something none of them did while in Israel itself I noted) and made out they shared support for the beleaguered Palestinians.  

It's nonsense of course.  Celtic fans like to portray themselves as victims.  Victims of sectarian abuse, victims in work, victims in play and the support for Palestine Arabs has nothing to do with Palestine but everything to do with self pity and encouraging a 'victimhood' they can all gather under.

Not one fan from any other Scots side will sympathise with them, all have suffered from the hordes of yobs coming from Glasgow's east side, all have listened to their sectarian songs, all have seen them attack locals, destroy local areas and frighten men women and children.

Self pitying Celts will be better attempting to change their attitudes and the attitudes of their bigot brothers along the road at Ibrox Park.  Just remember Scotland does not want either of you! 

A 'Drookit' Day

They threatened rain, lots of rain so I put of my idea of visiting Camolodunum and headed instead for the local grossly overpriced 'Outlet' centre.  However as I got to the bus stop I saw the other bus awaiting so I went into town as planned.  The weather folks said the rain was spreading to the east so I guessed that it would be dry all the time i was in town and the rain would arrive as I left.
The moment the bus started the rain hit the windows.
Rain heading east comes from the west?  No, it came from the south, so it rained all the way in, all the time I was there and all the way back home. 
I love weather forecasters, preferably fried by burning at the stake!

So I wandered from charity shop to charity shop, visiting expensive shops just to check on the 'reduced price' stock and took in a small graveyard on the way.

It crossed my mind that the tree in the background had been there a long time.  Look at the girth on that!  Two or three times the normal size of such trees.  I suspect this one goes back to the 19th century, possibly earlier.  How long do they live?  Clearly this one has been around a long time and many branches have been chopped off by someone professional.

'Jumbo' the massive disused water tower seen at the top, stands close to the 'Mercury Theatre.'  Not a place I would waste money on but at least they have a magnificent statue of the Roman version of the Greek Hermes.  Hermes was not just the messenger of the gods he was also the god of thieves, but I suspect you knew that.  I wonder if there is such a statue in the Houses of Parliament?

The remains of this church always grab my attention the top of the tower looks somewhat Italianate, the entrance door looks about 1100, the rest look Victorian.  Either way it makes no odds as it is just a big hall now and next door in the 1990's building the church meets.  Not sure what they use this for now, behind that closed black iron gate a sign says 'Come in, We are open,' but the entrance is the other side!  

This is all that remains of this part of the town centre, the rest was bombed during the war and is now hideously shop centred.  Very good for shoppers as all the right shops are here  but not an architectural delight.  The wee narrow streets around remain and have potential but I always feel this is a dirty town, lots of character but needs a real good scrub up. 

My weary head pondered on the way home about many things.  Not the sixteen year old's blethering on the bus way behind me, not the aged couple on the other side dropping grumbles about 'all these migrants' but two things only.  

One was the greenery brought out by the rainfall these last months.  The fields were green, the tractor delaying us again was blue, the white blossom flowered magnificently all over the huge hedges by the roadside, especially on the relatively newly built by-pass, and had we been able to stop the yellow and blue flowers were abundant in many fields we passed.

No-one appeared to notice.

The other thought concerned the report that when the Conservative Party came to power there were only 66 'Foodbanks' in the UK, now there are over a thousand!  However from the top deck we could see many large, newly built homes with several bedrooms and either a large Mercedes or a BMW parked outside.  We passed many vehicles that cost a plenty as well as the cheaper, second hand, runarounds.  The shops were busy in spite of the constant rainfall, people carried bags that were full, shopkeepers still sold expensive items and people were happy to buy.  

Like me many were chasing 'shiny things' but I was doing so in the Salvation Army Charity Shop, they elsewhere.  'Shiny things' are good and we need them but where is the money coming from?  Are the shoppers once again using credit and heading for another fall?  I hope for their sakes we are not as under this government, which will be hard to remove, they will be left to rot!

Let us all sing a song of joy...

A Wander

Having had a few days when nobody wished my presence (the first day started about 50 years ago) I have managed to catch up on half of the things that required doing about an eon ago.  So as the sun decided to shine even though this allowed the chilly air to freeze everything and some things that ought not to be freezed I wandered abroad through the gardens.  The thing about the cold weather is that while the plants have few flowers the cold keeps the mums and kids well away.  Only two could be seen in the play area, two too many for me, and I wandered freely among the greenery breathing almost fresh air and enjoying the sun.
A passing stranger offered me a smile, the type of smile women like her offer when fearing you are a rapist, and I only just stopped myself shouting "BOO!"   I had an encounter with a neurotic teacher on Tuesday and I am rarely in a mood for other neurotic females.  I blame the 'Daily Mail.'  Any man walking alone is clearly a rapist/murderer/paedo/ like that man on the TV and needs to be watched as they have read about such things.  The only other who approached me was this timid squirrel and I had nothing to offer him.  However as another possibly older squirrel came hurtling down the oak tree and began to chase him from what was clearly his patch this was an irrelevance.  I actually put aside some nuts for the beasts and of course go out without them.  Tsk!  

As a few birthdays are coming up I decided to shop around the charity shops.  With Christmas past I was hoping folks would have dumped their old stuff in and give me a chance to get a new jacket, shoes and birthday gifts.  How disappointing that was today.  Nothing worth paying for except one book that they were asking far too much for.  It's a charity shop not a bookshop I wanted to say to the woman.  
I noticed some things however such as a dozen or so DVDs of English football.  I noted these were not new and it struck me one lad has found himself a wife at last and his favourite videos and DVDs are being dumped.  It may be of course that she has dumped him and his goods are following or she might have tidied up in that female fashion with no comprehension of what has value and what has not.  I expect the 'Jane Austen' sets are still in their place at her house.
There are six charity shops in town, two of them attempting to be 'High Class' shops with quality shopfronts, decent adverts and higher prices than required.  Most of the staff are of course volunteers but such shops while making money appear to have the wrong attitude for charity shops in my view.  This is made worse when the bigger the charity the more is spent of staffing costs and it appears to me some require urgent and radical rethinking of their policies.  The other shops are less pretentious and a wee bit cheaper in my view and I like that.  While one works hard at making second hand stuff look almost new the other makes sure stuff is decent and puts it on show.  What more is required?  One or two of these shops have been going for years, since before I came here 20 years ago almost, and the 'Cancer' shop has taken over a million pound in its time.  A recent refurb has made it look good and sadly they now stock less books, mores the pity.  I sometimes wonder about the history of the objects on sale.  Who wore that jacket?  Why was that gift rejected?  Did the owner of the university books make a success out of their study?  I'm very taken with the 'Sue Ryder' shop as they sell furniture and have loads of everyday items usually with that one thing you have been looking for.  Naturally they did not have what I was looking for today.
Ah well, next week maybe.

 

Things upon which to Cogitate

Scotch Whisky Guide

Fifty Scots Words  

A must read for intellectuals.

Blind man drives car in town!

Fifty Shades of Gray dumped in Charity Shops everywhere.

So many being dumped the shops canny get rid of them!

It's Dan Brown all over again!

Thankful Villages

The small villages who received back the men who marched to the Great War and received all their boys back once again were called 'Thankful Villages.'  There were few indeed of these.  At the time this report was written, 2011, only 52 such villages could be found in England and Wales.  

No such village was discovered in Scotland or Ireland.

Near me lies a small village with a population of 402 in 1895.  

During the Great War some 32 men died in action,

rather more typical of the time.

Yorkie Dialect

To stop Soub from greetin I add the Yorkshire version

.