Thursday Twittering

Freezing February and I am almost feeling normal at last.  No need at the moment to spend vast amounts of expensive Honey (sure to cure), nor is there another Brandy bottle sitting calling on me (the Viking single malt will do), nor indeed am I going through paracetamol like chocolate.  The toilet rolls have gone down a bit mind, no 'Man Size' tissues here.  All a con and only women use them.  So I await the arrival of a new virus, probably from China, and look to the future...

However the idea of going outside into the bright sunshine and freezing to death does not entice me.  Wandering round the corner to Tesco I note several men wearing little, the sun shining fools them into thinking it is warm, and I await the sight of them next week, if they are allowed out!  
The media is making a big thing of the next storm to arrive, these days they all have a name don't they, the idea that it will bring 80 mph winds, snow and bad weather is something of a surprise to the media.  I suppose few of the unpaid trainees writing this guff have noticed we suffer this way most December, January and February's, it used to be called 'Winter.'  I myself enjoy the sun rising earlier each morning, shining brightly in the back window, even if still somewhat low in the sky, and notice the Blue Tits in the trees opposite and the Daffodils about to bud in the area beneath.

  
Yesterday, having trudged down to the Post Office to post a packet, I  came home via Park that once was given to the town for sporting activities.  The large dressing rooms have been recently demolished, no-one could be found willing to pay a million to renovate them, and the tennis courts were dead and gone long before I graced the ground.  Football is still played, mostly young kids in organised games these days, few kick a ball around like we used to, and there is a feeling that more could be done if someone clever enough could work out what to do with the land.  
These Crows were happily wheeling around.  I wondered at first if they were a couple fighting of a stranger but I think they are just 'friends' bothering one another.  The third hung back letting them get on with it until they settled in the trees, always 'Cawing' as loud as they could.
I am told that Rooks and Jackdaws often share a roost together, Crows prefer to be at a distance from others.   A 'Rookery' in the Netherlands was seen to hold 40,000 birds at one time!  Imagine the noise!  Also some of these nesting spots have been used for generations.  One at least in England is mentioned in the 'Domesday Book' and is still in use.  I cannot remember which one.  These birds like to return to their 'home' and will continue to remain in one place until some joker cuts the trees down.  

Boris said...  No, let's not spoil the evening...

Cough!

The View From My Desk....

The view from here is somewhat limited even yet.  The Lurgi hangs around leaving a fog on the mind as well as a cloud in the chest.  The result leaves me sitting indoors as the idea of trudging around in the late sunshine does not appeal, the camera is somewhat disappointed with this. Three times I have found the camera looking mournfully out the window desperate to eye up the world.  I know how it feels.  Instead my dim mind suffers the papers lack of intellect, the older radio programmes that I have searched out, and finishing off the books that litter the place. Quite how several can be sitting half read and forgotten always amazes me, especially as I cannot remember beginning the things in the first place.  Too often I put the book down and take months to get back to it, even if it is a good one.

So like the camera I sit here moping, my eyes scanning the scudding clouds crossing the late September blue sky, only to discover today is October!  Who stole the time?  Only the other day I watched the trees budding and small green leaves appearing.  Has someone fiddled time somewhere?  Anyway the trees opposite have already began the shedding of rusted leaves, one while offering a dazzling display of bright red berries for the birds delight.  The season of 'Mists and mellow fruitfulness,' sounds romantic but ignores the chill blended in the wind, a hearkening of approaching winter.  Those who venture out reflect the dubious nature of the seasons.  Young men wander abroad in tee shirts emblazoned with 'witty' phrases, multi-coloured shorts, reaching beyond the knees, all the while carrying water bottle to make them look 'cool.'  More 'mature' people wear a jacket as they have been caught out by British weather far too often for their liking.  Surely the brown edged leaves lying across the pavements indicate to some that summer is over?  A bright sun does not indicate warmth, just ask any passing Eskimo.  The dark misty mornings keep the Blackbirds asleep till well after five these days.  A silence broods over the land early in the dark morning, enhanced by the council switching the street lights off to save money. (They have not cut the leading men's salaries however.  The silence is broken only by a raucous coughing, from me, which I think gave the birds their wake up call.  Soon they were all off, barking out (Can birds bark?) their warning to other birds and claiming their patch, a claim that will be heartily defended as the cold weather leaves feathers ruffled in the search for nourishment.
As I write the light begins to fade, indoors darkens sufficiently to demand a light is used, the sky loses its brightness while trying to decide whether it will end with a pink glow or a damp squib. Once more we enter the long nights which herald the commercial escapades of Halloween and Christmas after that.  Once again catalogues begin to fall through the door, their bargains thumping onto the floor and lying their unwanted.  The world is once again forgetting why they exist and follows the crowds into Argos, Tesco and local shopping malls.  Our reason to exist is lost among the urgency to obtain, to satisfy others or ourselves, to forget real life.  Unless of course the reader is a 'benefits scrounger,' (@'Daily Mail') and has nothing to spend on fripperies yet again, not that the 'Daily Mail' reader will accept that.

The reader may by this time have noticed I ramble, I blame the cough mixture, the whisky, the tired mind, the Lurgi!  In truth, it is just me, nothing else, ho hum.......    

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Why?

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Wikipeadia

I'm dying! The world means nothing to me now. I am wretched, aching and suffering. No words of sympathy can alleviate my distress, not that any come my way, no encouragement can be found while I lie helpless under the strain. All is lost, all is worthless, nothing matters. Nothing except another toilet roll and packet of Sainsbury's Ibuprofen and dozens of cups of steaming hot liquids that is! Why oh why did I not buy that whisky for the toddy I ask myself repeatedly. Why oh why do I always get these things? Why me? What have I done to deserve this? Well actually we will miss out that last question as there are numerous replies and I would prefer to avoid all of them, time is too short for them all anyway. Oh the suffering, oh the pain, oh the agony and distress!


What is the point of a cold virus? Why were they created? Just what part do they play in the universe? Jesus did not sit up one day and think, "I know, just for a laugh I will invent a virus that causes sniffles, headaches, muscle aches, dissipates the brain, wearies the legs and leads to no sympathy from those free from it whatsoever!" (Sympathy that those who then suffer this debilitating illness then demand!) Just what is the point of it? Why do virii of any sort exist to cause illness? These are complicated little mechanisms, the 'Trojan Horses' of the real world. I was thinking on this and wonder what they were intended for when I thought "Fly's," those little beasts that appear in warm weather and fill the house, find their way into the kitchen and are impossible to swat because of their incredible eyes. Why were they created? Fantastic vision but no other purpose apart from breeding a million a week and being a pest!

Daily Mail

Oh the suffering, not helped by unanswered questions. Oh the pain, oh dearie me. Although I must say that I have found it difficult to really allow myself to make my suffering known when I read of small Japanese towns of some 17,000 people being inundated by the tsunami and now around 10,000 are missing! Watching peoples fishing boats make their way down the High Street does make a cold appear less important. Japan is well aware of the dangers of earthquakes, well prepared, and rich enough to deal with most events. However watching the pictures it is clear that they nation has been stunned! Where do you begin? Especially as a nuclear power station is in danger of a second Chernobyl? How do you find survivors, as if any will be found? How do you clear up the mess, especially when so many trained people have been lost in the aftermath? How do you deal with such a situation?  There are advantages to living in cold, damp Britain after all.
   

Understanding Colds

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Monday, The Bug, The Driving and the Sleeping

This is a computer image of a cold virus. A small thing of itself but one that affects us all and ought to be banned under the Geneva Convention. It is indeed a brute! I'm sure we all agree!

The common cold virus rhinovirus 16 contains 60 sites capable of connecting to a
receptor, called ICAM-1, on human cells. The virus uses several of these sites to gain
entry into the cell. This computer-simulated model, developed by Purdue researchers,
shows where the receptors attach to the outer protein shell of the virus.

This horror has been hanging around for weeks. No matter what I do it remains, like debts and gray clouds over the UK. It returned the other day leaving me languid and with the occasional aches. It dissipated enough today for me to drive around for two hours. It seems to return every few days and is beginning to annoy me. I am not alone in this as I have met other who find such bugs hard to lose nowadays. I am not happy, but then is that any sort of change I ask?

The driving was affected in that I was not fully alert. I got away with it today but can appreciate how folks make mistakes when complacency sets in. Naturally I was not told that we were going into the car park to practice reverse parking. It worked well - at the third attempt. I suppose that lamp post was not used much anyway. The rest of the day was not too bad. I did however manage to catch up with missing sleep in the afternoon, although as an ex-postman the 'postman's sleep' is not one easily given up. All over the world posties lie abed when normal folk still struggle through the day. However nowadays they do not get up as early as we used to. I mis those early mornings. The birds rising singing out their songs in Spring long before the world was up, the occasional fox leaving his footprints in the snow in winter, and the thrusting young police officers, glaring at me as I passed, desperate for a crime to fill their empty hours. It is not the same getting up late, around sevenish, and seeing gray clouds and the beginnings of the 'rush hour.'

The bug has limited the things I can be bothered to do. So there is a job or tow to attend to tomorrow, jobs to apply for, windows to open to let air in, and possibly a bath - it is nearly the end of the month - and no doubt other things will arise that need to be ignored.

Well that's wasted a lot of your time. So, to brighten things up here are some quotes for you.


“Winston, if you were my husband, I would poison your coffee!”
-Lady Astor to Winston Churchill at a dinner party
“Madam, if I were your husband, I would drink it!”
-Winston Churchill’s response.

"Thank you for sending me a copy of your book; I'll waste no time reading it."
-Moses Hadas

"He inherited some good instincts from his Quaker forebears, but by diligent hard work, he overcame them."
-James Reston (about Richard Nixon)

"He loves nature in spite of what it did to him."
-Forrest Tucker

"His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork."
-Mae West

"He has Van Gogh's ear for music."
-Billy Wilder