From Dreich to Mary

Dreich!

Monday saw me up and down the stairs three times before 10 am.  Today, nothing has been delivered.

I reckon the postmen have been flooding the area yesterday, today they are elsewhere.  Maybe it is the rain hammering down since last night?  Possibly Tesco café is full of drookit postmen avoiding work until the rain eases?  Tsk!  That never happened in my day...

I have searched the press for news of Michelle and her £200 million, but it appears the real news is found on Twitter as always.  There, the heart of the Conservative Party is revealed.  All Tories who comment are blaming her alone, all are moving far from her side, almost no-one in Westminster has ever met her, seen her, or heard of her it appears.  

In short, your on your own love.

Of course she can hit back, indicating the names of those who knew and approved.  All such are found hiding under bushes at the moment.   Interestingly, Lord Bethell, the man who lost all his mobile messages re the Pandemic, has found one from Michelle that incriminates her.  How convenient.  Maybe now the rest can be ordered to the Covid inquiry.  Mone is asking whether Sunak benefited from the Moderna Covid vaccine, he has connections, did he get paid?  Sunak has not commented.

Luke 1:26

God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, 27 to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. 28 The angel went to her and said, ‘Greetings, you who are highly favoured! The Lord is with you.’

29 Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. 30 But the angel said to her, ‘Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favour with God. 31 You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. 32 He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, 33 and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants for ever; his kingdom will never end.’

34 ‘How will this be,’ Mary asked the angel, ‘since I am a virgin?’

35 The angel answered, ‘The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. 36Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. 37 For no word from God will ever fail.’

38 ‘I am the Lord’s servant,’ Mary answered. ‘May your word to me be fulfilled.’ Then the angel left her.

When you consider Women were pledged to be married by the age of 12, this means Mary was possibly 13 or 14 by the time she was to give birth.  Many have attempted to alter this as they feel this is incorrect by todays standards, but this was biblical times and many women would not see 40. 

Neither would the men.  

The 'pledged to be married' bit is not a forced marriage.  In such places marriages would be arranged by talking women over many years as the kids grew up.  It is likely most would therefore have been reasonably happy and secure.

Joseph, the lesser man in Luke's story is secondary here, not least because Luke appears to have spoken with Mary and learned from her the details of the birth.

The name 'Jesus' is given, though as you know that is the Greek translation of his name, the Hebrew being 'Joshua.'  That name means 'God saves.'  It was common in ancient times to give names that meant something about the person.  The ancient Sumerians did this down at Ur and Uruk, and it also applies, as we have all seen on bad Hollywood cowboy films, to the 'Red Indians,' as they were slaughtered by the incoming immigrants of the day. 

This teenager is suddenly confronted by an angel calling himself Gabriel.  

How would you react?

A quick glance through scripture reveals that no angelic appearance ever mentions 'wings!'

So why do we always see pictures of angels with wings?

This angel, standing in the presence of God, is instructed to visit Mary.  No arguments, no questioning whether she is worth it, no doubt about the job, just obedience.  An obedience based on knowing God and loving it.  This, I suggest, is an angel that enjoys his job.

'You will carry a child, he will be son of God, and will rule over all for ever.'

Quite an achievement for a 13 year old.

Her response?  Apart from a practical question as to 'How?'   

Mary responds with 'I am the Lord's servant.'

What faith/belief/trust in a wee girl, all based on Gods word alone.

I note she appears not to say anything to Joseph.  It seems like she left that to God himself so Joseph was able to understand just what he had got into.  Joseph may well have been no more than 19 or 20.

And so they prepare for life, and what went through their minds at this time...?

Psephizo For more detailed study 

Nazareth

Late Delivery

 

No rain this morning.  Cloudy sky yes, rain no.  So I prepared for a haircut!

Shoes on, not the slipper things I tried to go out with the other day, jacket on, glance out the window and off I go downstairs.

I open the door and the rain is thundering down!

One huge dark grey cloud hovers above me, drenching the park opposite and all who were dwelling therein.  To my right heavy drops crashed onto the road, the cars, the people sheltering ineffectively under the brolly.  To my left bright blue sky beckoned, a white cotton wool cloud reared up to the heavens, speaking of warmer climes.

I waited inside the door.

Eventually life moved on.  My hair was cut by a lovely young lassie who, when I remarked on all the grey stuff lying around, informed that this was 'Very fashionable today.'  What a clever lass.

While she was being a clever lass I was not being so clever.  I went off to find something interesting to post and having failed, completely forgot about this post.  This will disappoint few.  

The new day is already half over, the sun is shining now I am indoors, and once again nothing has happened.  The media crow over their defeat of the woman in charge of 'Coutts Bank,' as she resigns her position, after Government threats.  Even the burning tourists are pushed aside for this one.  What else are the press ignoring/covering up?  The question as to why a wee girl, known to Boris, gets into the Lords perhaps?

Thursday morning.

Dreich.  

Once again I forgot about this.  I was so busy doing nothing that I forgot until late at night.  Too late to finish of a meaningless post.

So I will take up the meaninglessness this morning.

Good news at last.  Kenneth Vargas, the highly thought of SC Herediano player, has agreed to join the Heart of Midlothian to 'progress his career,' and get sold on to one of the big clubs around Europe.  This is good business for the Heart of Midlothian, at least, as long as he turns out to be worth having!  The Scottish game is not like those in Central America, as he will soon find out.  

The usual international clearances are required, but as always it is the Visa that is a problem.  This as you will know, is controlled by the English Colonial office in Westminster, and they may decide he is not wanted, him being foreign and all that.   So we wait and see.

David Roberts - The Aqueduct of the Nile

Dreich Day

 

As the Spring equinox approaches it is no surprise to find the rain teeming, the air cold, and Dreich being the order of the day.  This suits my mood perfectly.  I'm fair scunnered with all things at the moment, the never ending virus, the weariness, the empty media praising liars, and nothing being quite right or as good as it once was.  That sort of a day.

Nothing is what it was.  Twitter, once a good place to argue, meet new enemies, and learn things, has now become a drudge.  Musk has decided to change everything, mostly without any idea why, and ruined it for all.  Things and people I follow do not appear on the new 'Following' thread.  Things and people I have not followed, and certainly do not wish to know about, US College Basketball, Pakistani politicians, Movies, Arabic and Indonesian football?  I mean how does the algorithms find such things?

Rarely is anything suitable.  

Some things have disappeared, rather like Putin's opponents, other things appear unwanted.  Just what is the schoolboy owner attempting to do, other than force us to read far-right posts supporting Russia?  I think stepping into one of his rockets and firing himself off to the moon might be a good idea.  

I note the International Criminal Court has put out an arrest warrant for President Putin.  It appears that some of his actions in invading Ukraine, massacring people, dropping missiles on cities, and blundering about with a broken army has not gone down well.  If you happen to see him when you are out and about either ring the local police or make a citizens arrest on him.  

There might even be a reward...

Terms and Conditions Read?

Us dreich, miserable, types arose on the last day of a dreich, miserable year, to venture out into the dreich, miserable damp day to collect the several items forgotten yesterday when we visited Sainsburys.  An early start in the mirk was required as the rain lessened and the met office live map indicated very heavy rain to follow shortly.  They were correct.  As I huffed my way upstairs the rain had already began the days offering.  This the result, they say, of cold weather pushing down into north America thereby shifting the jet stream to the south.  This brings mild, but wet weather, or the Atlantic Ocean as we call it, upon our heads.  Climate change ensures this has made things worse than usual.  Rivers are higher, some places flood more, but at least the Water Companies sewage floating therein is swept away more quickly.  Touching innit?

At least the post is catching up.  The cards have been arriving, a parcel or two also, and a delayed box from up north has arrived full of excellent goodies.  I do not deserve women like these girls.  Of course the 'Private Eye' mag from three weeks ago has not yet appeared, and I am unsure if one ought to have arrived this week.  No doubt there are other items lingering in those large sorting offices placed at the edge of towns which will arrive in due course.  I understand how this happens, a 'York,' a large stand upright basket if you will, full of mails in bags arrives, it is pushed to the side with all the others.  Day after day, strike after strike, more mail arrives and the 'York' is pushed to the back.  Therefore later mail gets through first, until someone realises what is happening and changes things around.  This kind of thing, believe me, is easily done.  The dreich, drookit and miserable postman delivered my box today but without a smile.  Mind you, in all the years I have known him smiling was not seen as his normal habit.  Anyway, that's more chocolate for my few remaining teeth, a pullover that fits and another book to read.  This is a good one.  She has always chosen very good books for me, though I suspect her son helps, and this is another good one, which you will hear about in good time I suspect.  

So, we leave this year of joy and happiness, several Prime Ministers, umpteen Chancellors, and goodness knows how many cabinet ministers have come and gone.  The stability under the teeth now residing in No. 10 is based on making more money for the rich, not upsetting the 'wide-eyed loons,' and selling off whatever is left on the Tory ideology list.

More strikes then?

The year makes no difference.  Life goes on whatever the year.  We decide what happens, and the Good Lord rules over all the feeble upstarts leading the nations, both good and bad, mostly it is true, bad.    

No need to despair, Jesus continues to rule, our lives will have their ups and downs, there will be good times and bad, tragedy and laughter, and hopefully you will enjoy much laughter in spite of the many tragedies that we will face.  

Dreich Day

 Dreich day.  The picture sums it up.

Dreich Market

Another glorious Satuday Market build up, another glorious wash out in the rain.  Tee Hee.  I just glanced at the prices as I passed, ignoring those that did not show prices, and went to the Museum where I found similar items reduced.  That is much more my cup of tea.

I only went out as the sun began to appear, soon to be drenched as it hid itself once again.  I had to visit the smiling staff at Tesco to fill a space or two, they smiled at me, grimmaced at the customers, as I foolishly jumped in behind two women and a man with a kid not used to shopping.  I could have walked home and had another breakfast in the time I waited, too late to move elsehwere.  

There again I was given a discount in the museum, but do not let the boss know. 

 

Pizza in the rain anyone?  

I made it home, missed the postman, redirected the parcel I missed, and ate the wrong things for lunch.

After that I went to finish sealing the bath.  I had scraped it out the other day, left it to dry, was unable to return to the job until today because of sloth other engagements and when I made use of the seal gun I found it was dead!  Too late in the day to go up the road and buy new seal, another job for Monday.  And I discovered my spare Laptop does not have the TPM required being 9 years old!

Rather typical of life innit?

So, it's back to watching T20 cricket until England appear to be winning against Australia.  So I turn it off and watch poor English football instead...  

Dreich Day

Today, as you know, is the first day of Summer.

It rained all day, clouds cover the earth, 

and may do similar tomorrow.

 

Dreich Day

 

 

Dreich Day indeed.

It poured this morning, encouraaging grass to grow and weeds to sprout.  Suddenly, in spite of the weather forecast, it stopped when it ought to have been pouring down.  So I visited Tesco for the last time, met a grumpy staff member and a happy manager, stumbled home with my loot, mostly for others rather than myself, and settled down to await the postman.

Naturally, when he came he was in Teir 4 attitude and refused to ring the bell in case he catches a virus from it.  He must have knocked but I canny hear that, even though I was looking for him!  So while one measly routine letter arrives my neices expensive parcel has gone back and will not be re-delivered until Tuesday!  Bah!  He will hear about this!   (The word 'expensive' is not meant to be taken literally)

 

 

The Dreich day is not improved watching that Mr Hancock placing more people in Teir 4 while not acknowledging his guilt.  The Tories have been lying about the number of Lorris awaiting Ferries, only 170 one claimed, while 1500 others claimed where blocking the roads.  Some say several thousand now lie full of rotting perishables near Dover.  

What exactly are the benefits of Brexit...?

'Tis the Season to be Jolly...?'

No it isn't, not yet, but the attitudes of the people in town today represented the Christmas cheer we meet annually.  Women blocking the way with buggy's, women walking into you in shops, miserable faces all around, cheerless shop staff cheerlessly dealing with the cheerless customers who cheerlessly obtain needless cheerless goods for others to break or wonder how to hide.  In short the Christmas season has started already.  All I needed to find was a drink sodden Santa Claus to make my day!

The day was indeed 'Dreich!'  Gray, rain sprinkled clouds from the south east hurried across the sky, blowing the remaining leaves around the streets and chilling those forced to walk therein.  Indeed the only bright lights came from the ambulance helicopter which landed in the park opposite to collect someone and rush them onwards to hospital.  
Umbrellas early on, removed by the 'breeze,' as the weatherman calls it, sprinkling rain afterwards and many a coat turned up and yet, as I wandered out of B&M after a fruitless search for children's cheap gifts I passed a man and his son in t-shirts.  Macho men who walked fro the covered car park to the shop showing us their strength.  Ponces!  

 
Boris has been on the hustings again, or rather has not been.  He was to attend a debate in his own Uxbridge constituency on December 5th or 6th, date not sure as yet, but has not responded to the call to attend.  This is the normal local debate at any election and he knows he ought to be there.  Possibly he cannot cope with an outraged audience, such as the one facing Dominic Raab at his local meeting in Esher.  He was 'booed' and catcalled and did not have an easy time.  Boris is not good at handling such scenario's.  Maybe he will just run away?  If he does they will just put an empty chair there and ask questions anyway, the chair might know more.
Of course it may be a ploy?  Maybe he hopes to be deselected by the election.  Possibly he hopes the electors will choose another candidate and dump him.  That would save him losing face with his financial backers and avoid having to deal with the Brexit farce.  We shall see.

Now I discover, this shows how little I have looked at news today, that a 'Question Time' special is to be aired tonight with, it says, 'Leader of the Labour Party Jeremy Corbyn, First Minister of Scotland and Leader of the Scottish National Party Nicola Sturgeon MSP, Leader of the Liberal Democrats Jo Swinson and Prime Minister and Leader of the Conservative Party Boris Johnson facing topical questions from an audience.'  This will be the only real debate, depending that is who asks what questions!  I suspect myself, if she is allowed to speak, that  Nicolas will wipe the floor with them all, however I will expect the chairwoman Fiona Bruce to ensure she does not get a 'fair crack of the whip.'  I wish I could watch this....

Unfortunately, as always, this programme will clash with the Linlithgow Rose v Falkirk Scottish Cup Tie at the same time.  How inconsiderate and quite possibly racist is that?  I am convinced this is to stop Scots watching the debate.  I wonder if Boris will actually show, if he does not will they 'empty chair' him or cancel the programme?   
It appears each leader will be given 30 minutes, they will take questions from the audience (how are they selected I ask?) one after the other.  Then I suspect they start breaking bottles over one another's heads and screaming blue murder.  It may not be nice but will suit the TV audience well...

The dreich weather along with my dreich walk about town, caused by missing the Free Bus, meant no photos were possible in the mirk.  So, instead we see a lot of old birds who hang around here, or did in times past.

Dreich or just Freezing?

The man in the 'run-of-the-mill' suit offered a forced smile while cheerfully telling us the high temperature of 6%, that's 43% in English, would lessen to around 3 during the night, that, he said with a smile, was "Just above freezing."  I am so glad he pointed that out.  
I wished to inform him the "Just above freezing" last night left the field opposite 'just about white' with frost, but I suspect as he is in warm studio in front of TV lights in Norwich he really does not care to know.  
However, I was forced out after 8 this morning to get through Tesco before it got busy.  This was because I forgot yesterday to go upstairs, which had been the whole reason to go there yesterday, and so trekked off in the frost this morning.  
When I returned shivering I wandered through the gardens, stupidity is my middle name, to see what effects had occurred during the cold night.  The frozen pond was beginning to thaw, white surfaces on plants, and Blackbirds with scarves around their necks foraging in the hedges.  I suspect what fish remain are now frozen and awaiting Mr Birdseye to collect them.  

 
Apparently. last night there was a debate on TV in which Boris and Corbyn made absolutely no difference to the publics view of them and their views.  It appears the questioner was inept, the answers brought laughter not admiration, Boris claiming something about 'Truth' brought giggles, and nothing happened to make anyone take notice.  
I watched Scotland playing Kazakhstan instead, more important and worth a great deal more.  That also makes me ask why the Welsh game was on at the same time, I wanted to watch both? If only one had been held back 24 hours!
Anyway I suspect Boris and Corbyn did not realise football was on, if England had played the debate would have found another night of course, but I doubt we missed anything much.  We know where they stand, or pretend to stand, the sheep will vote without thinking all over the UK, thinking folks will strive to choose he right place for their cross, and others will wonder where the 'Anti-smoking, pro Cycling' candidate is this time.  Possibly he has run out of money from losing so often.  
I have discovered one of our 'Independent' candidates has referred to himself on one sheet as 'Bell-end' or possibly that was an outsider making an observation.  As he is based in Haverhill, right on the border just inside Suffolk I fail to see why he stands here, possibly he has been rejected too often there.  

    
To make the town appear worse a TV company has been filming in the town.  The programme on offer is from BBC 3, 'TOWIE,' 'The Only Way is Essex.'  This has brought much disgust from the locals who suggest that Basildon or Billericay would be more appropriate.  It appears they did not stay long, as folks d not do in the programme I suspect, and the slappers young women involved have run off back home to mum while not forgetting to have several 'touching' photographs taken for publication accidentally in the 'Daily Mail.' 'Touching' can be taken in various ways here...

'Dreich' you will be pleased to learn, has become top of a Poll to discover the favourite Scots word.
Beating 'Glaikit,' 'Braw' and 'Scunner' to become number one, and no surprise.  No surprise as this is the word most Scots utter first thing in the morning upon waking.  Whether they refer to the view outside or inside is not always clear.  
The words meaning are in themselves quite obvious, what?... Oh!
All right then, here is a run down for you...  

• Dreich - tedious; damp and wet
• glaikit - stupid or foolish
• scunnered - disgust or strong dislike
• shoogle - shake or move from side to side
• wheesht - call for quiet or silence
• fankle - to tangle or mix-up
• outwith - outside or beyond
• braw - fine or pleasant
• beastie - an insect or animal
• bumfle - an untidy bundle 

They appear straightforward to me...

Dreich!

Dreich!
Rain all day, busy trying to wake up all morning, exercising in an effort to kill myself in the afternoon, and Scotland losing 3-0 and it's only half time.  It is a dreich day.
There was a moment of laughter when Boris was put in his place by the Irish Premier.  Straight talking leaving Boris crumpled and almost but not quite ashamed.  Tonight he has lost his fifth vote in a row and is intending to close parliament down for five weeks to avoid questions on his behaviour.  They say his cabinet took fright regarding the 'breaking the Law' regarding ignoring parliaments wishes.  It will not do as it could land them in trouble also, even if Bojo is the one who goes to jail.  So his friends have made him see sense regarding lawbreaking.  So many questions regarding his behaviour and even the hardest Brexiteer must see this man is unfit for his job?
When I think back to the giant politicians, Brown, Thatcher, MacMillan and look at the puny representatives here now I find myself wishing even Thatcher would come back!  Gold grabbing, money loving and hard hearted she may well have been but we all knew what she wanted, we knew where we stood, we knew her cabinet were grown up liars, we knew there were things she would not like close parliament to avoid answering questions!  She would answer questions and not give a reply!  A proper MP.  Brown had some good intentions, and failed, MacMillan did want to give people a better life, and he built 3 million houses in the early 50's, not something Tories do today.
Now John Bercow the 'people's friend' is standing down.  He will soon be blessed with a seat in the Lords while Dominic works out how to get Rees-Mogg into the Speakers Chair!  Just so an unbiased Speaker will be seen.
The rain continues, it's dark early these days, summer has gone and Christmas stuff is already in the shops.  Oh joy....
(You can tell I have had a good few days...)

Bleak

Bleak, gray, dull, yucky day.  Disappointing after yesterdays sun.  Town filled with children rushing about, no parents controlling them, no police, no shotguns sadly.  Rotten day, dreich everywhere, no news, nothing happening, time to go back to bed I think...

Market Drizzle

As it is wet, drizzly and not so hot the market has a special day.  Once again the wide variety of grossly overpriced foodstuffs bring out the crowds (Where do they get the money?) and as a special treat this month there are a few stalls selling the kind of overpriced hand made items women buy, whatever they are.  

I am always tempted to the bread but the price £3 or so a loaf puts me off.  It looks good and probably is good stuff but expensive being twice and more the price in Tesco's.  I suspect the variety of cakes available are also good but to fattening for my calorie controlled diet (with chips).  

   
Once again the car folks brought out their pride and joy into the drizzle.  A different crowd from last time and I suspect that when the sun shines regularly there will be more of these on show.  I am not clear as to why that guy has his bonnet up, possibly he broke down, possibly he is showing off his clean well tended engine.

Somehow I managed to spend nothing but a few quid on mealworm pellets for the Starlings that are breeding just now.  The brutes have emptied the feeders already this morning and trying to empty them again this afternoon.  A single Blue Tit has been spotted there but few other wee birds.
Guarding my money carefully I came limping slowly home and have spent the day watching football!
What more can a man want?
Oh yes, a woman to iron a shirt for tomorrow...

Dreich Saturday

I was somewhat surprised to come upon this van parked round the corner the other day.  I mean who would have thought a delivery van would be called 'Grabbit & Run?'  I would have said that was one of the local lawyers vans myself.  Fair to say he was facing the wrong way in a one way street so it is understandable that I thought it a legal experts vehicle.

Another gray dreich Saturday with cold winds a blowing.
This encouraged me to remain indoors mostly listening to my new neighbour downstairs move things in to the flat.
One thing about moving is the wonderful way nothing goes through doors.  On one or two nights I have heard strange noises and it was he and a companion pushing things through the window into the flat (He is on the ground floor).  Of course I offered assistance but he may not have heard me say this as I kept my mouth shut when offering assistance.  Clearly he and those assisting him have not yet finished as the noise has abated and he will no doubt return tomorrow to continue his movement.  I know it is a he as a letter arrived with a strange name and correct flat number so someone somewhere knows about him and is already asking for money.
The problem of flitting is the packing.  What do you keep and what do you throw away?  How do you pack it and how do you remember where you packed it after you arrive where you are going?  Some stick coloured labels on boxes, each pertaining to different rooms, other write in large letters the room, still others use numbers, all this to no avail as the box you wish is hidden under all the rest and you cannot find it.
When I moved here 21 years ago, almost 22 now, I had little to pack.  To move now would be torturous as I appear to have so much, where did it all come from and do I really require it all?   I suppose I ought to discover if I really need so much and dispose of the excess in charity shops and to be fair if I am continuing to be as forgetful as I have become I suspect I will buy most of it back again!
Most of what I have was required at the time, books are on the shelf, read once or dipped into as required but are these excess I wonder?  Clothes?  Not much as most people comment on my ability to shop at the charity shops, some rather too often I think.  I suppose some would wonder at what I have but I think most of it has a place.

 
I awaited with baited breath the Heart of Midlothian v St Johnstone game on BBC Alba this evening.  At ten minutes to six I switched on the laptop and found an update in the top left hand corner.
Eventually the machine woke up and demanded I 'RESTART NOW!' in that loving manner it possesses.  This I obediently did and after what seemed hours, partly because of my impatience as time was running out, partly because in my impatience I switched things on quickly and banged the buttons it all fell apart.  After many rude words and much finger twitching the game appeared two minutes after it began.
Over an hour and a half later I said to myself, "That's better out than in."  A worse first half could not be imagined.  Our lot appeared to consider going backwards the way to go forwards, I told them my opinion of this, they however continued to play a game of football unknown to kids in the playground.  Kids would try to score.  Kyle Lafferty, has he played football before? 
The second half was much better they started facing the right way, which was an improvement, and soon scored a goal, which was also an improvement.  For a while they pretended they were a football team and passed the ball to one another, checking the colour of the shirts worn by each side beforehand, something they had not done in the first half.  However it soon degraded into a slog and by the end we were all glad Barcelona were not coming in midweek.  We were not cheered by the knowledge that we meet St Johnstone next week in the Scottish Cup once again, oh joy!
Kyle Lafferty, has he played football before?