The Weekend

Yesterday, to the delight of all, the clouds were ushered north by the near 40 mph winds and the annual Carnival was allowed to proceed as normal.  As normal there were less floats than last year and even less entertainment on offer.  Once more the music was abysmal and the local pub that once offered a rock band playing proper music failed to materialise again this year, a great loss.  That said several local bands of very large young girls dressed in Tutu's twirled batons and sort of danced their way around the town.  This lot represented some sort of gym, or was it a club I was not sure, clearly however none of them could be mistaken for those representing 'youth.'  They were however happy and a great many of them took up a lot of space in the parade.  You can read that bit any way you like.  

    
I often wonder where these 'queens' come from and where they go to afterwards.  They must be local schoolgirls, something I gratefully know nothing about, yet do any become famous after a year as a 'queen?'  Do they do anything the rest of the year?  I will not investigate but I do know hundreds of such are found in many parts of these islands each year to their delight and short lasting fame.

This part did not improve the music as for reasons unknown only the big drum and his little mates were banging as they passed us.  Tsk!  The fire engine led the parade but did not reach the end apparently, It appears someone called it out halfway round.   
The kids like their moment of joy on the parade, the adults happy the kids are pleased and a few hours are filled.  Those who go to the meeting place at the end and spend money of the activities there are less pleased.  I did not go there.  It is a good time for the town yet what does it say about my life that here I am enjoying this?  

I had to see a man re the food bank this morning so I went to the early service at this church. (I did not take this photograph @unknown) This is a combination of two churches that merged some years ago and they offer a 9:30 service (the old people's one) and an 11 am service (the noisy young people like you and me one).  I chose for various reasons the 9:30 and had a 'hymn sandwich'  with communion in the old style.  This was bearable but the hymns chosen were not, so old and not really to my liking.  Being without a zimmer frame I got some strange looks and few under 60 were to be seen. It made St Paul's with its informal/formal format look exciting!  There again I was at this place as an attempt to avoid the liberal theologian who was speaking there today.  The vicar banned me from throwing chairs at him so I didn't attend.

During the week there has been a big media fuss re two lesbians who were confronted by several youths on a London bus.  Taunted and threatened the girls refused to kiss one another for the yobs entertainment and were attacked, beaten and robbed.  Being gay has led to the media making this a major story and the Met police have worked quickly to detain several young men aged between 15-18 over the offence.  If these are responsible this is good action by the police.  Such attacks are rare and deserve proper sentences.  
However, had these girls not been 'gay' and been two young normal men would the media report it? Of course not!  In fact in our town some neds asked a man and woman for cigarettes and were refused.  They were hit with a bottle as a result and only the local paper has reported this.  Not being gay the major networks are not interested.  How many such assaults have there been over the weekend?  How many in Sheffield, Edinburgh, Norwich, Cardiff or any other large or small town which get no or at best little coverage?  They get little because they are normal people in the usual normal ned situations, coming out of pubs, at football games or domestic incidents, no gays involved so it does not sell.
I am not convinced these neds cared about the girls being gay, they were looking for trouble, they picked on the weak, they cared not who or what they were as long as they were weak and they considered they could get away with an attack.  Possibly not all were keen on fighting, usually one or two lead and the rest follow.  Unfortunate for the two girls in this situation but unfortunate for others this gang may have attacked yet have not succeeded as yet in getting the press on their side.
It is a funny slanted world in which we live.

Cold and Wet

The day we wandered to Poole Bay the weather was cold and wet, the wind blew a gale, and the inclination to believe this was a summers day was strong!  Such was the power of the wind that holding the camera was difficult, hence the pictures are not sharp, and the water was jumping over the edge towards us as we walked.  Many of the small dinghy's near the waters edge were in two minds as to whether they ought to just sink the 18 inches to the sea bed or remain half submerged.  In the distance stands Brownsea Island where Baden Powell held the first Boy Scout Jamboree before the Great War.  Owned by a rich woman for years the island became protected, so we were not allowed to walk over the water to visit.  Instead we forced our caps down over our heads and returned to the car.

Winds like this bring out the windsurfers and many are found in the safe bay area.  Only one was there today, many others crammed into a large van pulling a trailer of such boards and resisted the temptation to catch frostbite.  This fellow spent some time roaming around at speed, falling over, struggling up, and racing off again.  The fact that the bay slopes also encourages water skiing!  The houses overlooking this point start at around two and a half million and rise steeply thereafter. 

   

The calmer waters around Christchurch suffered the same cold wind but revealed the money available for some in these days of austerity.  The narrow opening from the Bay ensures this is a quiet place to moor.  Large numbers of boats can be seen sheltering here on Google Maps.  Personally I find the hard work involved in sailing such craft needless now that motors are available, some folks however take their boats around the world, fighting the raging seas by pulling on ropes and watching the waves at varying angles.  

I have to admit however this looked a fine little ship to me.  Looks older than the rest or maybe it is my fertile imagination.  Does it ever see the sea?  Has this wee boat visited lands afar off and have stories to tell?  It seems a shame to buy such as a mere 'tax dodge' as some do, or waste thousands on a boat and never use it.  The idea of sitting aboard such and just letting the world pass by while drinking tea and cogitating on a fine day has great appeal to me however.  What thinkest thou? 

   

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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.