Friday/Saturday

A bit of a conflict high above us this morning.  These two Magpie's have taken to living amongst the trees.  This annoys the Crows who live here.  Yesterday two Crows buzzed the Magpie pair and saw them off.  Today one Crow was chased off by this fellow and his mate, but the Crow is still hanging around in the trees high up somewhere.  Possibly he awaits reinforcements?  The Crows from times past would not put up with this, and I suspect more conflict soon.  I just wish they would come down lower so I could get a closer picture.  

Naturally, I was so engrossed by the birds conflict that I forgot to scribble anything else on here.

Few noticed.

However, Saturdays have little to say other than shops, football, sleep and feeding the face.  Nothing out of the ordinary occurs at weekends, unless something personal does.  

I met my downstairs neighbour walking the dog, at least the dog was pleased to see me, and little else of note occurred.  

Nothing in the news, no accidents, no trauma, just lies from crooked politicians, and mostly made up stories about royalty.  What a disgrace the UK media is.

My weariness, and the fear of heavy rain which did not arrive, put me off walking to the Kirk.

Instead I read the chosen verses, Jer 31:31-33 & John 12:20-33.  This took me to Jesus telling the disciples, at least those close to him, just how troubled his souls was, to the point of death.  Yet he chose to follow his fathers will, for that is why he came.  What a moment it seemed to me, here Jesus was faced with the choice of avoiding the cross, yet he would go through with it.  Then he says 'If you follow me you must take up your cross.'  He gave up so much, lost life, faced Hell for me, us, and he chose to go through with it.  What I face is so much easier.  So why do I fail?  

I am not sure being at church today would be any stronger an interpretation than what this meant to me.

Quiet Saturday

How quiet the morning appears when a holiday is on.  The rat race in the evening was very slow last night, and not because of the crowds.  Just force of habit caused drivers to dawdle at the normal speed for the rush hour.  Today, Saturday appears the same.  How lovely to think those that would normally block our streets in the morning are all blocking the road into Dover as they await a ferry to France.

Tee Hee  You vote for Brexit and then wonder at the result?  The man in charge at Dover claims the French have put on more staff, many on overtime, yet still they wait.  This, he made clear, is a result of Brexit and nothing else!  It is hard to feel sympathy.  However, those going through Belgium have little hindrance, that however, does not make a story for the tabloids.

I toddled to Tesco for bread, I usually run out when shops close for one day, and chatted cheerfully with the man in the queue in front of me.  We both glared thoughtfully at the woman at the front on the only open checkout while she fussed over what we considered to be 'nothing.'  Holding the queue up is what women do we decided, men always just 'get on with it,' and fuss later.  Two women behind me, with a few items each, moved to the next checkout when it opened, looking questioningly in my direction.  I urged them to go as I knew the man in front with a trolley full would be quicker than they with half a dozen items each.  And he was.  We sniggered like schoolboys and moved on.

Later that day my laziness caught up with me.  So I addressed three cards, two for Easter eggs and one for a birthday, all running very late, and struggled back up the road and posted them in the best post box.  The cards ought to be no more than three days late!  My unhealthy body did not like this dawdle, especially as my head wished to be refreshed by crossing the park.  The sight of greenery, council Daffodils, and a dog or two under a blue sky is very helpful  Such small benefits are huge at times.  If I go out tomorrow I must struggle down the long road.  I am not looking forward to this and may reside here.  But it is Easter Sunday, one of the two days in the year when the scruffy church turns up better dressed.  This is a sight to see.  Normally, only visitors make sure they look good before entering.

I noticed the two Crows happily avoiding me as I passed.  Also, I noticed the two Magpies who have taken up resident in the trees opposite me are still there.  This surprised me as I expected the Crows to see them off their land by now.  I wonder if they have noticed, or if they are just waiting their time?

The soap opera's of the wildlife can be interesting.  Last night there was much loud barking, this from a young Roebuck deer in the park, hiding in the darkness.  I heard no reply but his folks must have been about.  These are timid creatures, soon off at a pace if they see you.

Cold, Grave Birds

We awoke to temperatures of minus 1c this morning.  The field opposite had a white sheen of frozen dew, the condensation covered the windows, and while the heating was on the moment I opened the rear window I quickly closed it again!  Too much at 7:30 in the morning!  I wished to rise early and search one particular shop before the crowds gather.  I took the long way round and popped into the graveyard behind the old Congregational Church in the hope of some sunshine glinting on the frost.  I was in time for the birds seeking nourishment, though they insisted on flitting around quickly making it difficult to picture them.  This was the best I could manage, the Robin sitting on the end of a grave deciding whether or not to leap down to the cold grass below.  I caught him just as he leapt behind the solid grave.  This looks like one designed to keep graverobbers out.  Before medical science was better organised medical students would acquire bodies for research, often fresh from graves.  The Ghouls would strike at night, which is why some cemeteries employed guards during the dark hours, and dig up the body and sell to a 'doctor.'  Thus many graves have iron fences, brick walls, or solid brick tombs atop them.  Today, these gather ivy and moss and are welcome perches for the birds of the district.

I searched the shop, every shelf, up and down, all along, and back again.  Naturally what I wanted was not on offer.  The only other likely place was not likely either.  Aint life grand?   Instead, I bought chicken bits from the local butcher, and listened while the girl explained to another customer about the lack of turkeys this Christmas.  With 'Bird Flu' present, and an incompetent government dumping Brexit on the nation, the farming world has been suffering badly off late.  "Turkeys," she said, "Might be available, but if so they will cost an arm and a leg!"  This bothers me not, I eat any old thing at Christmas, but for women like the customer this is important, though not important enough to break the bank.  No reason for turkey at Christmas anyway, just be grateful to have something to eat, and heat on which to cook it!

Is this a Rook or a Crow?  Rooks are usually in a group, Crows individual, and the mob we have around here tend to hang around in two's and three's, so I never know if they are Rooks or Crows.  Maybe they do not know this either?  My beautiful, highly intelligent, and nature loving great niece claims it is a Crow, and she should know.  So I am going with that.  While the Robin was dancing about below, this man sat high up in the tree planted at a graveside many years ago.  He appears untroubled by the cold, well fed, and well able to look after himself.  

How about a blurry, cold, Blue Tit?  Lots of them around here.  Clearly such places, usually quiet, are ideal for wildlife.  Small though it is there are many birds, and a squirrel took off as I approached and sped up a tree into the wilderness there.  I suspect the only thing they fear, apart from one another, are the kids coming out of the church hall.  A kinder garden takes place there, and the approach of toddlers and mums would scare anyone.

 

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...

Rain

Being stuck indoors while the plumber mucked about under the sink replacing the taps that fell apart I had little chance to get out.  This was just as well as after I had finished the clear up the weather broke.  The usual weather round here in Spring/Summer is a few hot days and then a 24 hour period filled with thunder and lightning and torrential downpours.  I hide under the bed...choking in the dust!

The torrents that fell, only for a short time it must be said but repeatedly all afternoon, forced normal people indoors.  Those dressed for the heat ran, walked or stumbled murmuring anti-rain words as they made their drookit way home.  The rain begins suddenly and caught many out, I laughed empathised from the window safe inside.
However the wood pigeons, possibly because we have had so little real rain recently, made for the developing puddle in the park and thoroughly enjoyed the bath/shower that ensued.  At least two were there in the downpour, other birds appeared when the rain eased up searching for beasties forced to the surface by the water.  The Crows when they appeared also cast mere disdain on the rain as they do on anyone or anything that passes by. 
Birds, they are not human are they?

Something happened re the election today but I really don't care.  I know how I will vote however this plan has been changed since last week as I hooked myself onto the Twitter feeds of the candidates and discovered the UKIP man does not have one, I wonder why, I already offer advice to the sitting Tory, the Lib-Dem woman was impossible to discover info about and the Green was not worth it.  This left the Labour man who has lost any chance of my vote as I discovered he must have blocked me at the last election!
I wonder what I said?
I must vote but this makes things difficult.  We know the national outlook but it is here at local level votes count, or in this case don't as the Tory always wins.  Even more chance now they are using UKIP policies.  How I miss that inner London constituency where there was no guarantee for any MP no matter what party they belonged to, this one feels like a one party state!  
One more week and then we can complain about something else.

Morning Cycle

The rolling English countryside early in the morning sun is a grand sight, however if a developer gets his way this grand sight will turn into 1600 houses, plus Doctors Surgery etc.  The old railway walk will descend into just another litter covered backyard for thousands more people.  Since arriving here 21  years ago the population has grown from 30,000 to 40,000, the need for homes and the greed of developers would increase it by 30,000 more if they could.  The fightback appears to be holding at the moment, the first plan was turned down, the new one has faults and hopefully will not go ahead.  There are areas where such housing could be placed, this however is not one of them.

One man who would be happy is the farmer who I presume lives in this house.  He has been trying to sell up for years and who can blame him?  Farming is a hard life and easy money from the EU will end soon with no replacements on offer, even from a Tory Party that relies on farmer Jones and his vote, so selling the land for housing makes sense to him.  He will move far away I'm sure. 
The farmer requires a decent deal but housing will go against the needs of the locals for green space, and this development will join the town to the village and destroy the appeal for those living there.  Quite what the answer to this can be I know not.  
Just a wee bit further up the line they collected money to buy the land and use as a nature reserve, with added facilities for those health freaks looking for a place to exercise.  This is a good idea but money is not available for the land the farmer wishes to dump.  If only I had become the Billionaire I was meant to be...

Avoiding me at a distance were several horses.  The field here often has a horse or two, head down and uninterested in passersby, and I note rarely the same horses.  Maybe he trades them, hires them or just offers a field to feed them in. I don't know why?  The rabbits seem content with their arrival and look down their nose at the camera from a great distance, which is why there are no pictures of them.  This is the edge of the village which will be attached to the 1600 houses if greedy developer gets his way.  

  
The idea of rising early and cycling appeared a good one late last night, this morning it took on a different hue.  However my knees need the exercise so off I went, immediately unhappy about it, and in spite of the early morning traffic, the pain, the chill, I kept going and got some way up the old line before my knees began giving me their opinion of it all.  
The aroma early in the morn of the vegetation, the birds singing while hidden in the trees above, the glimpse of blue in the sky, all made for a delightful start to the day.  A dog was keen to make friends, the owner well she was less keen, while one other dog walker informed me the old industrial estate will soon be 125 houses, including flats!  I must agree with housing there as the place was almost empty of companies and gypsies were moving in, and that means vast amounts of rubbish left behind for others to clear.  Housing of the right type in the right place can be accepted.

Bluebells abound at the moment and it is a pity I am too far from the woods where they cover the land.  Yesterday I was shown pictures of woodland that was a mass of blue from one end to the other.  All I found were the poor wee things outside my door.  

Blossom is beginning to fail.  The bright white on some trees has fallen and these lovely red ones are turning a slight pink shade.  These are not long for this world so now is the time to picture them until next year.  The park was originally a house belonging to one of the rich folks who gave much to the town.  The gardens were very well organised, whoever planned them distributed a variety of trees around the place and after a hundred and more years some are beginning to fail.  The council have cut down several that were diseased or dangerous and have begun planting new ones in appropriate areas.  This blossom is quite new and is flourishing happily, hopefully all the others will do so also.

Home to find carpetlayers in the hall hammering away all day.  Just what my tired mind wants to hear.  However I fed them tea, once only in case they stay too long, and while doing this broke the kettle!  Since buying it there has been problems and now it has failed.  The bin for this and back to Tesco later for a new (cheap) one.  Yesterday I had to go there to replace the iron which died, the water dripped out the bottom alarmingly, and now more money is to be spent.  I wish I could survive as well as the Crows who I found feeding themselves in the town centre this morning.

Another Day...

Oh to be a Crow!
Or is it a Rook...?
Anyway I had a great day at the museum.  We were not overworked, the kids being back at school led to large periods of quietness an experience we have not been used to.  However some folks came, the odd child also, and there were once again those asking questions, that is what I love. 
Add to this having work dumped upon me regarding the Great War, he asked about one man and I went straight to him, (aint I good?) and tonight and tomorrow I will have to research a bit more for him.  Also a woman with Zeppelin questions, all as museums ought to be.
All was going swimmingly and then a discussion online tonight went awry.  Possibly jumping in when tired is not the best thing, even when right, but there you go.  Now this has ruined my good mood, even though I was right, and I wish I was that Crow (Rook) as he never gets ruffled.  Indeed he lords it over all other creatures in the park and happily wanders at a distance from people, treating them with disdain.  Sounds right for me.
Ah well, another day tomorrow and another disaster awaits. 

Thoughts...

This old boy was sitting on this sign early this morning as I entered Sainsburys.  He was cawing in a somewhat tired manner and while a bit wary made no attempt to fly away as long as I kept my distance.  He looked world weary and possibly did not wish to move unless forced to, I know how he feels!  Later in the day he and his mates were soaring high above in the sunshine making the most of the sun before it disappears for the winter.

 

Independent 

The Middle East is indeed the place to look for confusion.  The Sunni Saudi's, along with the Sunni Qatari's, have spent much encouraging Syrians to rise up and fight Assad. How much US & western support that was given for this is hard to define.  Iran & Russia have supported Assad, Shia Iran knows the Saudi's are in reality attacking them, and by encouraging the rise of various groups, now interspersed with a variety of Islamic groups, we see ISIS coming into prominence in northern Sunni Iraq.  Southern Shia Iraq merely imports Iranians to help defend their bit.

Because they are a danger to us here we bomb ISIS, we give no support to Kurds fighting them as this upsets Turkey, our friend, who bomb Kurds because they are not their friends.  Bombs have been falling all over the place occasionally on the right people and the total effect is near enough nil!

Now Russia has added their men to the fight informing the world they will bomb ISIS and instead bombing all the opponents of that nice Mr Assad.  

One mistake with all these planes bombing this group and that is the chances of a US or Russian aircraft being downed by the other.  That will be nice.  Who to blame, what will be the result?  We sit and wait.

Possibly Putin just wishes to be accepted in the Big World, possibly he is just a thug pushing his luck, possibly WW3 will arrive any time now.  Naturally the media have taken the sides the government has told them to take, naturally much that is written is speculation.  Naturally the people suffer, die and disappear into oblivion and nothing changes.  David Cameron has spoken, no one listens.

Washington Times

While the Middle East fills the pages of the press wars elsewhere do not.  This old story of the Central African Republic I note has not changed since it was written in January.  The violence has been interrupted by the UN and French troops arriving but it continues yet.  More refugees, more flooding into Europe - if they can get there - more violence, death and homelessness.  The European press does little.  Many places suffer in this world only some are worth mentioning it appears.

Thalatta! Thalatta!

"Thalatta! Thalatta!" "The sea! The sea!"
The cry of Xenophon and the ten thousand when the saw the Black Sea for the first time. To the sea faring Greeks this meant they would make it home from their expedition against Persia where they had been dragged into the wrong war and on the wrong side. It was also the cry that rent the air when I stood next to the great deep and breathed in the brine and rejoiced in the sun glimmering on the endless waves. Getting there however was not as straightforward as I hoped. 

To begin with all went well, the train was on time, the carriage was quiet, the sun shone on the green and pleasant land as we flashed along and even better nobody made use of mobile phones.

The change at Stratford would have been smooth if I could understand how to work the ticket machine, when things are simplified they are always harder to comprehend and I found that technology was not on my side this week.  Eventually however I sat in a tube train full of happy Londoners, cheerful, kind and ...oops, sorry I was deluded for a moment.  However I reached the station that French presidents try not to arrive at and boarded the train where a youthful London lass equipped with all the social graces of a nineteen year old Londoner sat next to me working on her texting.  Joy abounded!  

We moved, the five coach and therefore overcrowded train slowly made its way out of the platform.  The sun shone in our window, no-one spoke in the quiet carriage, an occasional bleep from a mobile or tablet was heard and we settled down for a happy journey.  The train slowly made it's way to Clapham Junction station where it ground to a halt five minutes after departure.  Enter the guards voice from the depth of the Tannoy, "A person has been hit by a train at Surbiton so there will be a hold up as both lines are blocked.  (This occurred at 11:34, one minute before we left.)  This usually takes about an hour or so."  Apologies were made, and resignation ran through the train.  Being the quiet coach we are not allowed to riot.

Having sat at Clapham for almost an hour we moved suddenly and without warning.  No-one believed all was well.  It wasn't.  We parked ourselves at Wimbledon station because it appeared we stood in the way of some 19 trains that could depart and avoid Surbiton, we could not.  The crowded masses on the platforms at Waterloo waiting for their trains did not bother us one bit but must have been a nightmare for the staff.  Here we sat watching the station staff run around like headless chickens, a very interesting experience as I, like you, have been involved in similar situations when nobody has a clue as to what is happening, information does not arrive and customers have steaming heads.  So it was fun to watch others suffer, in love obviously.

Was this an accident that a 75 'hit a train?'  That happened last week on the Tube.  Or was it suicide?  Now it peeves me that people kill themselves by throwing themselves in front of trains not for them so much as for the trouble their action causes others.  The train driver may well be traumatised by this.  He may get a day or two off work but will have to pass this way again and some folks find such things hard to dismiss from their minds.  He may suffer guilt for doing his job and being responsible for another's death even if he is not in truth responsible.  Then there are those who have the job of collecting the pieces from the track who may not be too happy about it either, let alone the thousands who are delayed by this action.  Indeed this is a selfish approach to suicide.  

The late arrival led to confusion at the other end but soon I reached the happy home where we sat scoffing while the birds hammered away at the fat balls in the garden.  What can be better than a small enclosed garden?  Well one by the sea I suppose.  Everybody ought to have one, humans need it!  However it is very difficult to get a decent shot through a window, especially when the brutes will not  stay in the sunny bit while flitting from one seed type to another!  This shot shows a really magnificent example of a fat ball!  I have also numerous pictures of blurred Blackbirds and the rear end of Blue Tits if that's your thing. 

How lovely to be able to sit in another's house and feel at home?  l don't often get that as I am usually kicked out but I did relax here and began to enjoy it greatly.  My second family who I owe much to and I realised I have known for a mere 44 years.  I should add that eating properly for a change helped a good deal, the food in this house is cooked by a  lovely woman, as indeed it should be!  Nothing in this home got burnt, not even when three of us men cooked Pizza all by ourselves!  

We also watched, in spite of murmurings from the corner, Bournemouth football club getting themselves promoted by beating Bolton 3-0.  Jolly good for this little club even though a cynical female woman failed to appreciate the magnitude of the occasion.  Such women still get to vote mind!  Think about that next Thursday!

  

Thalatta at last!  A trip over the chain ferry at Sandbanks to sit and stare at the sea, what more could you ask?  Well sunshine for a start and an end to the chill in the wind!  Running since 1926 and secured from the tide by two tough chains the ferry runs back and forth across the short distance  saving motorists a 25 mile trip round Poole Harbour. To one side stands the huge harbour area where a mass of sailing vessels and some very big Channel ferries base themselves, to the other side lies the Solent and out into what the English call the 'English Channel.'  Humble eh?  This is one of the delights of this area.  The views are fantastic and I find this sort of thing refreshes the mind.  Air, sea, breezes, sand and a few boats of various designs all combine to relax the heart.  That is why folks sit in the car at the parking bay and stare out to sea.  That is why others, braver than some, walk no matter the weather along the shore.  There is something about the sea that humanity requires daily, no wonder I miss it.  Of course some people do not like water, they will sit in the car muttering while the brave scout for dangerous fish, illegal immigrants or flotsam & jetsam.   None were found here as the water was clean as indeed are the beaches.  The area is quite upmarket, a house here would set you back from £2 - 10 million, but they are well done up.  I do not have one - yet!

At Studland two brave souls wandered down the slope to the tea stall situated, as such things always are, at the far end.  In summertime when the heat is on and the beach huts crowded with revelers, while kids drown one another in the sea or bury dad in the sand this place must be mobbed.  It is not large but when crowded it would be a place to avoid!  Today however the chill reduced the numbers and we watched while this crow (or is it rook?) waited while the lass at the table fed him chunks of her lunch.  Usually timid he was keen enough to jump on to and off the table quickly while grabbing his portion.  Her wee dog considered grabbing him but she would not allow that.

  

I could have taken a thousand pictures here, often of the same subject but in different ways however some people muttered about 'having a life' and we moved on.  All told I did take 190 fotos although not all were a success and you lucky people will be spared having all of them shoved down the throat.  A hundred would be enough.  What's that you said...?  Oh!  Anyway, that's enough for now.  I have been forced to walk hundreds of miles, OK, well two at least and some of that up slopes, and my knees will not stop moaning, and I canny bide folks who moan.  So I am off to bed to rest up!          

Something to Crow About

After an indolent Sunday in which not much occurred I forced my bundle of lard out on the bike for twenty minutes this morning.  This was not a good idea.  For a start the engine was not happy, indeed it was heavy, lethargic and worse still facing the eastern wind.  Strangely the enthusiasm of the other day had left this engine and the grunting as the speed touched four miles an hour was similar to that heard at women's tennis matches.  Also I met the early morning boys racing to work, some indeed awake but one or two clearly far from it.  Those chaps who have to cover 15 miles before eight o'clock to get into work were not happy to be stuck behind me avoiding the holes in the road, especially as they only had fifteen minutes to cover the ground.  It also did appear that if the women's cycle race does come this way in June then a lot of roadworks will be required.  Lots of drains at the side are two inches deep from the surface, some surfaces are very rough and recent repairs are sinking already.  I suspect more late night overtime for some is coming this way soon.
I survived the main road and turned off down the side streets to avoid the wind and found it there before me.  Quite how it knows where I will be at any one time is interesting.  Also many workers were beginning the day with a Monday morning smile as they backed the car out, walked the dog or shouted at the kids as they prepared for school.  Always a gentleman I allowed them to go first, smiling indulgently as I have none of that stress these days and I was busy dreaming off the breakfast that my weary hulk was desperate for.
Going down the gant (see Gant) as I headed for the teapot I stopped at the noise high above.  These trees, oaks mostly, have for many years, possibly hundreds of years, been home to the crows (or are they Rooks?).  This is a sample of the nests high above with a few of the birds cawing loudly, very loudly if you are trying to sleep in the house at the foot of the trees, cawing and jumping about while preparing for Spring.  In a few months young birds will arrive and spend the day screeching loudly, so loud you can hear them for miles above the traffic!   I wonder if these houses sell well?

Now it's home for a healthy Multiseed bread breakfast with lots of healthy stuff to keep me on the run. The deepening gray sky flowing in from the east indicates life will not offer much fun today and I may well spend more time hurting my eyes on the laptop rather than enjoying the world outside.

Later.
Typical, the gray sky forecast faded away and I could have made more use of the time.  Bah!  Ah well, back to bed to make up for it...

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Market Day

As I trudged back from the market I sat in the park somewhat surprised by the quietness. Usually the brats whine, skateboarders yell and passersby gossip too loudly.  Today nothing moved bar two crows who flapped sullenly across to the Scots Pine and sat high above occasionally calling to the world their ownership of the park.  Nothing replied to them.  In the distance a pigeon entered a tree to roost, Far off on the other side a walker slowly made their way along, and large puffy clouds moved relentlessly to the east.  Still little sound.  Two children passed asking mum lots of questions about the world in between answering the call of the crows.  Mum did her best to bring them back to reality but with little success.  The rumble of cars as they passed far off threatened to break the serenity, as did a light aircraft as a pilot made up his hours.  
I again was fascinated by the clouds.  Huge clumps, darkened on the flat underside and threatening rain, bright cotton wool reaching thousands of feet into the air above.  Today we were covered in floating islands of such clouds, the sun shining hot between the many breaks, the chill wind revealing itself as the clouds darken the sun.  
Moving here I understand why Constable was so intrigued with clouds.  When in London you had to look straight up between the buildings to see the sky, out here it is all around us.  In Constables time, some 20 miles down the road to the east, there was many more opportunities to note the sky above the flat lands around him.  His sketch pad would have run out of paper today.  

       
With the exhibition up and running I thought I would have more time to myself. Not so!  Not only have I discovered new ways to add to the info already gathered but people ask for information and I sit here looking for what I can find.  This is good PR, better than the PM's anyway, but takes time.  Today for instance I placed a photo on a a website asking for info re the uniform but nothing I attempted would make the thing work!  It took hours of searching the forum, trying different software and lots of rude words before it worked!  Now I notice I have a couple of helpful replies and it feels so much better, but it took time!  Similar but different occurrences already this week including having to rewrite some stuff for the booklet, and here again I stupidly checked facts and discovered more!  Bah!

I need a holiday!

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Free Day eh?

The two crows moved steadily, intent on their destination.  Behind them transparent white clouds streaked the deep blue of the morning sky.  Two tall trees, resplendent in their greenery, brightened the day as their leaves twittered in the breeze.  A female blackbird hopped several paces and stopped, cocking her ear to listen for movement underground.  She hopped three steps more, then again, continuing on her way, coming close to me, happy that I was not going to disturb her routine.  In the distance a female form with white top stood in the shadow of the trees.  She gazed into the distance as if awaiting someone yet no other movement could be seen. Two cyclists, independent of one another passed by, both wearing those lime green 'Hi-Viz' vests, ideal for crossing a near empty park in bright sunshine.  A young women paced by with determined expression, laptop grasped tightly in hand. Someone out to change the world perhaps, a young lawyer about to save the needy, or a businesswomen heading for financial utopia I wondered.  My existence appeared to mean little to her. 'White top' had moved.  She had come out of the shadows and now at last I saw her understandable reason for hesitation, a small black dog.  This, possible a 'Scottie,' ambled slowly, content like me to let the world pass by but keeping at a distance from the woman just in case she urged speed upon him. 
So the world awake early today.  At last I had two whole days to myself, this was guaranteed yesterday when I covered for someone who was off, but turned up anyway.  This was my time, time to relax, sleep, consider the Great War only if I felt like it and iron those shirts the au pair ignored.

Having shopped even earlier I returned home to healthy thick brown bread full of bits and filled it with unhealthy bacon!  I read the grubby online papers full of wonder at how they failed to ask why that editor women got off 'scot free!'  Did David Cameron's brother defend her at a cost of £20,000 a day? Was the prime minister's intervention that came so close to scrapping the trial, at enormous cost, a deliberate device I ask?  Yet the papers appear to play this down.  The law works different for important people.  I mused for a while, looked at the ironing board, and sat in the bath even though it was not a Sunday.  This was a day for enjoyment.
Then I returned to my e-mail.  I like e-mail, it is a great way to stay in touch, it avoids needless chatter, gets to the point and brings folks together so well.  Not counting Mary who abused me for not liking tennis, something she has been glued to since this nonsense began!  Boring I say, get it off the screen.  I'd rather talk to a woman about her baby!
Then it happened.  I had finished one of the items I was writing, my delightful boss has now read it and sent it back using this 'word' system that allows corrections.  I had a long list of corrections, adjustments, recommendations to attend to.  This I did once I worked out what to do.  Helpfully I returned this and also finished the second piece this time readjusting it to make more sense.  However not long afterwards she enquired as to where the thing was, it had not arrived and the reason was simple, me!  Not only had I not linked it to her I had not saved the blasted thing after finishing it!  The only action was to redo the whole lot!  'Na Poo' to this I thought!  So back it went, no doubt the second one will have just as many red lines on it.  My teachers at school were not this bad!
Then the other e-mail arrived.  Tomorrow I must go in again, as well as Saturday, as a girls sick dad has died.  This was expected as he is aged and very sick.  A second lass is off tomorrow as her dad is close to following on also.  I'm going to ask for a wage soon!
The advantage of being in is taking the laptop and working at the desk.  Hopefully it will be quiet and I can get on but if busy I will just write a story, 'Living death in the museum!' Oh yes and now I must iron a shirt....
Time for football and sleep.  Who will join the USA in the next round, I know not as I have no idea who is playing yet.  Oh sleep, wherefore art thou mush?

  
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