Holiday Monday

Morning arrived quite early today as it often does.  The early sun inspired me so much that long before eight I was engaged in exercising my knees to a painful level.  The stretching ensured that I had therefore to sit and ache for a while before stuffing myself with peanut butter covered brown (organic) bread before realising this was not the best option.

In an effort to avoid stiffening up I went for a walk down the hill.  Here stand houses dating back to the 13 -1400s.  This one stands close to a similar effort that forms the back end of a house on the corner.  I suspect that these once served workers from the nearby fields or possibly in the many weaver connected trades that flourished down this street.  I also suspect that once these had thatched roofs and were not so dainty as they now appear.  I suspect also they cost less that the vast price they go for today.  
Street Details

Essex houses, made of timber and plaster, often have patterns such as this on the walls sometimes covering the entire wall.  Whether the design has any significance I cannot say having found no information of the houses I pictured.  How long they have been there is also hard to tell.  These building go back several hundred years and have found many uses, Inns, weavers, dyers, various cloth trades (the 'Bays and Says' of the Flanders folk who worked here in the past were famous. No one receiving these goods checked them as they knew they would be correct and they would not be cheated.) and of course one pub remains but the shops have gone with the weavers and their cloth.

   
This fellow and his mate has been gracing the doorway off 'Wentworth House' since the 17th century but the house itself probably began back in the 1400s.  Over the years, as with all the others, it has spread from a mere hall, added rooms, workrooms and then another storey on top and until quite recently was in a mess.  Restoration has given someone an expensive but historical work of art.  

The smaller houses go back a bit also, these have interesting but not always genuine ancient items upon them.  Genuine in age maybe but possibly in some cases recovered from elsewhere.  This is one of three in a row, well decorated, brightly painted and costing a small fortune with a very busy main road outside the window.  Why do people buy there?

My limbs told me to head homeward so I eased my eyes by bathing them in greenery by the river.  This is a well kept spot but someone had chucked some files away at one place.  I was tempted, not to greatly, to jump in and seek my fortune but managed not to.  

Someone has been tending these trees for many years but I know not who.  This was merely a place for the river to overflow (sorry Texas) and now contains recent housing costing just under half a million.  I am sure they all have a  stock of sandbags at the rear nowadays.  

The reflection makes this picture a bit abstract and it takes some looking to understand it.  Lovely and quiet today, no kids yelling, no couples groping, no passers-by,  just the birds and the slow flowing river.  Flowing so slow I thought it had stopped.  Recently there has been a plan to put a number of (expensive) houses across the other side.  This has caused upset and will certainly spoil this walk and the view over the other side.  Money however speaks volumes!

This is what happens when thistles explode!  So be careful when passing them.

Having exercised, walked, eaten and slept I now sit here aching all over wondering why I bothered!  Tomorrow it is museum day and the last week of the holidays.  I expect thousands will come in tomorrow and many mums begin to long for the peace and quiet next week.  I will be longing for it also by lunchtime!
 

A Welcome Sight

A closed door!
Four pm and the door was slammed shut!  It was time for home.  My one half day a week has been somewhat disturbed recently with so many missing in action.  Tuesday I was there all day as I was much of yesterday as a school came through the shop as I was running for home, I made it by 3:30!  Today the two girls were off and I held the fort uncomplaining in spite off it all.  Now in times past a three day week would have been welcomed but now I find it tiring.  Worse still I canny get anything done at home, as they stour in here will tell.  The 'to do' list for tomorrow & Monday is quite long now, anyone fancy cleaning an oven...?

Having managed to cut the benefits received by the disabled the Conservative government that comprises at least nineteen millionaires now wishes to cut the cash given to the disabled to buy much needed equipment.  Is there any individual in this nation who cannot be attacked by these people?  The disabled, the elderly, anyone bar those who fiddle massive tax demands can be chosen as the one who pays for the national debt.  How will this help?  In no way but after receiving an increase in MP wages, making extravagant claims on their expenses and accepting cash form anyone who offers this party continue to claim benefits are too high, their papers are full of evidence for this apparently, so the poorest must suffer.  You will be next if nothing is done.

I A'Door Me

After months of procrastination I managed to make a start - again - on fixing the slats on the cupboard door.  This time armed with cheap wood glue I slotted the slats and gunked the ends only to find the last attempt left the gap a wee bit too wide and they fit but only just.  Still I put my handyman skills to the proof and remembered again why I failed technical subjects at school all those long years away. 
After many rude words I managed to fit the top half so as though it looks fixed.  Anyone who opens their eyes, or I fear opens the door, will soon discover a weakness or two.  I expect next time I touch the door to be back at the starting gate. 

This little job held me back long enough to prevent me reaching the shops when they were quiet.  So this afternoon I walked among the living dead around Sainsburys wondering why I bothered.  I only had to shoot two customers and one was driving a black van when he attempted to run me over. I lacked suitable pity for him at the time.  What is it about supermarkets that make people girn so badly?  Normally I am in early so I miss the crowds but the rest of the day in such a place is a wonderful way to practice patience.  

When I first graced this world the family lived in a tenement in Granton.  For the first three years of my life, little of which I recall, we lived a short walk up the road from the harbour pictured here. This photo was taken in 1958 it says and I can recall going down there with dad to look at this rig sitting in the far side of the harbour.  I had no idea what it was for until today when I found this picture on facebook and discovered it was used to search for coal under the Forth.  It is different from what memory recalls so this may be a different rig or my memory may falter but the era is about right.  
The view north over the Forth is fantastic, one of the great memories of Edinburgh.  To the north lies the Forth and Fife opposite, the view to the south reveal the Pentland hills and for a major city the escape to the countryside is  remarkably easy.  How I missed that in London!  
The building on the right was at first a Hotel but for most of the 20th century, and possibly still, it was a land ship for the Royal Navy.  The large ships in the harbour also stopped in a similar spot to the left of the picture, a harbour soon afterwards filled in for industrial buildings.  To the left there was a small school house that my dad attended.  Two doors, one marked 'Girls' and at the other end 'Boys' and quite rightly too, but last time I was in that area the only possibly building had boarding around it advertising the company I could not determine if the school still existed.  At the entrance the road to the left led along to the promenade where relaxation and sea watching took place.  To the right we could eventually reach Leith.  A high embankment carried a railway into town, a railway that closed around 1962, and the embankment has long since gone also.  Behind the embankment lay a small beach and on any occasion I wandered down there I was struck by the smell of fire.  It was the done thing then when at the seaside to gather driftwood and build a fire, even in summer, the smell lingered forever afterwards.  The road on either side near the camera rises upwards as you will realise Edinburgh slopes down to the sea, sometimes we fall in. 

A more recent picture nicked ungraciously from facebook shows a more modern image.  The view has been devastated by the ugly new blocks of flats that take so much money from young trendy people, and to the left there are many more such buildings.  Those with a clear view up or down the Firth of Forth will have a fantastic sight before their eyes, not too sure what the others will see mind. 
The ships have long gone, even Leith harbour appears to be struggling with such reconstruction these days, and at Granton I think only rich folks yachts can be found today.  There have long been such yachts but the actual Yacht Club has sold its premises and moved elsewhere or died.  
As always some things remain, the toilet block stands as always, the buses halt here before trudging back across Edinburgh, and people still climb the stairs grumbling at the effort.  
Is this an improvement?  Is it progress?  Is it the passage of time?
Life goes on and we cannot stop it.  

Here in the soft south I spend a lot of time looking at old pictures and comparing them with the reality today.  On the local facebook page old pics are offered and people reminisce about their childhood and youth, always claiming "it was better then."   No it wasn't really, even if the fifties were better in many ways for kids in the end the 'good old days' are always in our minds.
1958 was good in many ways for me but there were fears and problems also.  For a start we had school and that was not my favourite place.  The fears and problems of childhood disappear and we forget the bad things that caused us worry then, the fears can be worse now of course, but
we were lucky to be living in an era of peace and even prosperity, a time such as my folks had never known before.  We moved into a three bedroom place, bathroom and kitchen, dad got a better job, and we got a TV.  How the world changed then!      
There are good memories in the past but in three quarters of the world war was raging and millions died.  The 'Good old days' are always in our heads, nowhere else.

A Day Trip

In Camolodunum again today, I travel the world you know, I discovered a church building I had passed but ignored for some reason.  This lay behind the Roman wall, note the red bricks and the construction of the wall, solidly built to ensure no more Boudica's attacked and burnt the place down again.  Amazing to see these walls, ignored by most through walking past them daily, these solid walls were erected in the first century and stand proud, if not beautifully, today.

This was the first time I had noticed St Mary's by the Wall, and naturally I first took a picture of the once elegant door.  It is likely a Saxon church once stood here, the Norman's liked to build stone churches where old wooden ones once stood, and this one dates back to the 1200's.   You can see the lack of respect for history as the lower walls are built using portions of the Roman wall!  The tower above is probably the only remaining original portion, the church was rebuilt in the 1700's and many unreadable tombstones stand there some from that date as far as I could make out.

During the English Civil War, which imperiously included invading Scotland by the Margaret Thatcher of the day, one Oliver Cromwell, the church was used for defence by the Royalist side as Colchester opposed Cromwell and the Parliamentarians.  Whether the people had a choice is not noted!  A man named as Thomson set up his gun there and directed fire on the besiegers until the many returning cannonballs brought him and the tower down.  The top of the tower has been renovated with red brick and shows in between the remaining Roman bits.

I wondered a bit about the sign above the door.  What kind of church is this that has a licence for booze?  A Catholic one looking after the priests?  An Anglican one with a thirsty vicar?  In fact it is a redundant building now used as the Colchester Arts Centre.  I didn't go in.  There may have been a chance to look around but I considered they may have an 'art' exhibition on and I would possibly express my opinion, and I don't like losing new friends...

The graveyard is a bit of a mess in truth, this was one of the better graves established in 1797 but imaginatively I forgot to check the name.  They clearly were important enough to have a block of stone and iron railings around their tomb.  Most of the others must have dated that far back, the town must have been on the up during the 1700's and wealth flowing in the right places, but the place is a sad site now.  Only one drinker was found there today and we shared a couple of words but clearly many more waste their lives here.  How sad is that?

 On the way to the bus driven by a man unsure of the braking capabilities on offer I once again was impressed by the war memorial.  This angelic creature is a magnificent example of war memorial of the time.  Totally ridiculous regarding the conflict but like many others a magnificent creation.  What soldiers thought I know not, but less was spent on wounded men's care than on this!

 

On the way home I bought two appropriate inner tubes for future use!  No fool me!  This time I spoke to someone who knows about bikes, and recognises an idiot also.  This shop ought to be nearer home I say!

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Saturday Pigeon Post

Football is back!
Today is the first day of Scottish football, well the wee cup began today, next week the real thing begins.  So for the first time in ages I was able to watch a proper game, until I got fed up as we knew who would win and went out for some wood glue.
Yes wood glue.
In trying to restore the door I am inserting each strut in it's rightful place, then doing it, and several others, once again.  Soon I will require to stick them down and wood glue will be useful.  However I have only reached half way and they are not keen to stay in place.
I walked away in disgust.
Nothing else happened.
I keep forgetting what day this is, a habit these days. 
There is something else I keep forgetting, but I canny mind what that is...

 

The Other Big Town Trip.

From the window of the five past eight bus this morning I snapped as well as I could the sun shining on the local harvest.  One problem city dwellers (Known as 'Townies') fail to comprehend is the delay caused by a tractor wending its merry way to the next field along.  While farmer Jones is contemplating his profit, added to by the generous EU, CAP which is why he is merry, the vehicles behind are filled with smouldering folks who were not in a hurry when they set out.  The trail behind a vehicle dropping lumps of mud from his giant tyres can stretch for several miles. Today I smiled benignly at the people in just that position as they were headed in the opposite direction to my bus.  They however did not respond kindly.  There is little to beat sitting upstairs on a near empty bus in the early morning as I am sure you know.  Had I ventured out an hour or so later a bus full of chatting women and screaming brats may well have been my lot.  I also noted that according to my timetable a bus left here every twenty minutes, however a returning bus only departed every thirty minutes!  Three go out and only two return, a mystery indeed. Could there be a depot somewhere with dozens of buses waiting around for their drivers to return I wonder?  This reminds me of the No 8 London bus rescheduling in the late 70's.  The drivers pointed out that had they followed the timetable ALL the buses would be travelling in the same direction at one time!  Tsk!     

The bells of St Peter's well ringing loud as I passed, a peal that went on for quite some time. Possibly they do this regularly as this is one of the Anglo Catholic churches that likes to be part of the town.  The not quite musty interior is lit only by the large window at the far end.  The dim light is sufficient for individuals needs, allowing some privacy in a busy town.  The bells were only heard dimly in this ancient church, which has its own mention in the 'Domesday Book,' would you believe!  The picture may indicate the interior was slightly lighter than it may have been to my eyes.  I find this quiet spot strangely attractive myself.

With a camera in the hand it is important to always look up when in town.   The horrid tardy shop fronts and entrances of today could hide past architectural delights.  Above the dingy entrance I noticed that this once was the 'Grand Theatre,' no doubt home to many great stars, and a few bum ones also, of the past.  Today it appears to be one of those 'clubs' young folks take delight in, although I myself canny remember why.  

Adjoining this theatre is another pub, this time however an interesting looking building that stands on the ground that since the 18th century bore the name 'Lamb Hotel,' although this has been changed many times in recent years.  I suppose there must have been a market nearby and farmers would gather for lunch here.  This present building dates from 1905 and the present owners have not defaced the building thankfully.  Sadly the High Street is a mucky place, not helped by traffic that has to pass through, there is little else that can be done to move it.  This pic does show what lies unseen above our heads.  Look up when out, but look down and ahead first! 

  

On the other side of the street stands the Red Lion Hotel, still operating as such, and with a history dating back to 1495.  The mock Tudor front dates back about 20 years however and quite a lot of pubs do themselves up this way to make themselves look older.  This I suggest is to attract the customer who likes his old buildings to look like his imagination tells him it ought to look!  Ah the teaching of History cannot defeat the wishful thinking of the individual!

On either side of the entrance stands these two gentlemen.  The one on the left appears to be wearing a crown (Henry VII would be King in 1495 followed by Henry VIII) but the other is less discernible.  Maybe he represents one of the town worthies, maybe a traveller, maybe the first or later owner.  I am unclear and find nothing to aid me.

I had to laugh at this sign.  The A120 is the straight road home, called 'Stane Street' after the Romans worked on it some time back, and normal weekly traffic numbers are very high.  The fact that the warning of advance works end with the words, 'Delays Possible,' did make me laugh!

Well might you ask what such dereliction is doing here.  This is a once busy car park at one of those 'out of town' shopping centres.  There are still several major businesses working there but so many have gone that this large car park has become disused and is dying slowly.  What are the chances of the Tories upsurge in the economy of bringing this back to life soon I wonder?  All around this area lies the beginning of development which has ceased since 2008.  I am not sure whether I prefer the wide open acres filled with beasties to the modern empty office blocks that ought to be arising there.  The economy requires it but we need open spaces.  Just passing by these fields, the ancient houses and wondering what life was like for the souls found there in days of yore does take away from the shopping experience that saw all charity shops visited and two books and a handful of birthday cards bought, still no jacket......  

What?  You have had enough?  OK, I will bore you with more later.....

All I want for Christmas.....

I passed the 'Seat' shop early this morning, before any of you were up, and decided that this would be an ideal Christmas present, for me!  There were two reasons for this, one the colour yellow is the safest on UK roads it appears, and two, it was the cheapest car in the pound.  A mere £5999, a snip for the rich amongst us.  When I got home I checked the £2;34 in the savings account and at 0.001% a year I may soon be able to but this car myself, what?...oh.

I learned to drive in a Seat Ibiza and very nice it was too.  A nice tight 'feel' to it, although the driving instructor did keep in it tip top condition, not counting the time yon lassie rammed it against the left hand side and scattered them across the road of course!  He thinks of that still!

On the way I passed the setting up of a 'Boot sale.'  You will all be aware of this, people driving, paying the man in charge a £5 note, setting up a small table or blanket, and selling all the junk in the house they wish to lose.  I am told there are many bargains to be had but when I passed nothing had begun and I had no cash.  Why these boot sales always occur early on a Sunday morning when I have other things to do I know not.  Why not use a Saturday I ask?  It would suit me and my piggy bank better?   People are so selfish I find.

My Sunday ended in here, the first time I have been inside.  I should say I took the picture earlier when the heat of the day had returned, chased away the mist and made the heart glad.  These English churches fascinate me, it is very different in Scotland you see.  Places like this go back hundreds of years and many bear traces of the events history has wrought on them.  This was possibly began as a Saxon church and was developed as the town grew once the market began in 1199.  Roman brick can be seen in places and the graveyard may well have been used by them and Saxons, though not at the same time!   An unusual Anglican church this one, they appear to believe in God!  Pews, arches, interesting things in corners I would have liked to look into, and as I sat pondering I pondered on the Victorians sitting stiffly in these pews, each in their place, the unwilling dissenters from the years of the reformation forced to attend unwillingly, the vicars who canny men that they were led the people wisely, the vicars from distant times who may not, and who may not even have been able to read that much!  Pilgrims passing through, beadles using sticks to control 'rowdy youths,' a panoply of a thousand years of the towns history.  As I was having difficulty following the sermon, acoustics not as good as I hoped and his speech a slight hindrance, I mused instead.  Nice to be in such a place, in spite of the Anglican way of doing things. 

Oh yes, and for collectors of doors we have this narrow item.  I suppose this is used by those wishing to climb into the ancient tower, and those who each Monday practice ringing the bells.  There is not much point in being a campanologist if you are too fat, says he taking his stomach of the table.  

I told the vicar and he tolled the bell mate.

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Nil Desperandum Jimi

I trawled through my old albums tonight, amazed at the rubbish shots I used to think so good, and found one or two I had forgotten all about.  Nothing special, although I find the lamp with praying angel quite attractive now.  Beforehand I thought it a bit iffy.  I never managed to get through the door of this large impressive building, and I suspect still evangelical church, but always admired it.  Built of what they call 'Bargate Rag Stone,' with 'Box Ground' and 'Baths - Stone' dressings, as you can tell, it rises high over Bayswater and was erected during the great wealthy days on 1880.  At that time the are only contained the best people, Westbourne Grove' being shopping of high quality, and while the area depressed somewhat, my part full houses divided into bed-sits and small flats, a small flat today would cost about half a million!  It should be noted I moved out.  They knew how to build in those days, especially when labour was cheap and 'gothic revival' popular.  Almost nothing however can be discovered about John Johnson the architect.  How strange.

Nice doors, that I almost got into the picture!  I think I took these on the Leica IIIb that I possessed for a short while.  Foolishly I swapped it for something more efficient!  It was a good camera but to difficult for an idiot like me to use.  I should have kept it mind.  The things daft folks do!

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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.   

   

The Day Out

The day out consisted of a couple of hours in Chelmsford.  Not renown as a city of fame, in fact it is quite boring really, but I fancied a change and off I jolly well went.  The Cathedral, begun 800 years ago, is quite impressive inside.  Sadly it is on the Anglo-Catholic side of things, but it is very well done up.  Nice stained glass windows, a few interesting murals high up, a fabulous ceiling, interesting memorials and friendly staff.  The heavy wax from the prayer candles choked a bit however.  Not really how I see church but this one stores the Essex Bishop, whoever he is.  I always find an attraction in the steeple pictured against the bright blue sky, which never quite works for me.  I thought the old style light fitted in well anyway.  I would have liked to take a picture or two inside but felt that interfered with those prayer/meditating folks there.   Oh yes, and they had a door, indeed a door adorned by two of those heads.

This is a door, and one adorned by two of those head things.  A side door it may be but it does have two somewhat bashed heads.  Soub will point out why, but a 15 year old apprentice fixing things might be responsible I reckon.

  

The wrong way round but you get the er, picture.  Somewhat weather beaten angels I think. However this impressive piece was on the far end.

 

It is a contemporary rendition of Peter, with fishing boots, net, fish & key!  It's certainly noticeable.  (He should of course be called 'Cephas, as that is the name Jesus gave him, but the Greek version was 'Petras' and that stuck.  But you all know this.)  

Most of Chelmsford is to me just a pedestrianised High Street full of the usual shops, a shopping centre full of the usual shops, and a retail market with a variety of the usual stalls, including a butchers where I obtained a three pack of chicken bits for £5:99, a small fortune to me.  Shops are of course full of women, blocking the aisles, pushing folks aside, slowly cogitating on every other item they see, crowding into places like Marks & Spencers where the only men you see are being told by their women what they are buying, all shops are crowded, all very overpriced to me.  Even the Gift Aid Bookshop which drew me like a magnet was expensive.  While I am all for making a profit I am not paying £3:99 for a book, worthy as it may be when we all know most charity shops would charge £1 - £2:50 at most.  There is a huge price increase in such establishments as they go a wee bit upmarket.  While some such still stink of stuffy second hand clothes others are becoming very flash and while this may bring in cash I think it misses the point somehow.  The town itself however appears to be on the up.  Fewer charity shops near the centre, shops full and no Christmas goods that I noticed.  Good for them.  

    

There may well be other things of note worth pointing the camera at but all this walking through the hordes of wildebeest bumping into me every other step was very tiring.  Just wait till Christmas comes, imagine the crowds, buy now right enough!  I headed back for the train.  Just up from the stations stands this solid memorial to the thousands who fell in the Great War, many Essex men fell wastefully at Gallipoli, poor souls. 

Did I say train?  Oh yes, long time since we have had a picture of the railway.  This one was not mine by the way.  Our train was an older one.  The better class trains go past my stop.   Still memories of the old days were to be found here if one looks close.

The old water tank for steam engines and a dilapidated signal box.  Not used today I suspect.  Isn't that fabulous?  What, oh!  I forgot some of you are female......

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