Dismal Park and Dismal Charity

Twice this week I have meandered slowly across the park ruminating on how depressing and dank a park can be when weather is dreich and the park empty of life.  Trees stand bare of leaves, they lie rusting all around, even evergreens appear darker than normal and only an occasional small bird is noted high up on a bare branch shivering in the gloom.  In the far distance a pale blue sky might be seen on occasion but much of the sky is battleship gray and full of the promise of rain.  
How much better in the Spring when leaves develop happily, bright yellow Daffodils and other flowers dominate the edges of the par and toddlers run around with parents struggling in the rear and the air is full of birdsong and bright sunlight. 
Not even the occasional drug dealer hovers during this day, gathering in the dim light behind bushes at night maybe but never in the dank daylight.  Those choosing to cross the park do so wrapped up in winter garb, council workers passing through offering brightness with those high-vis yellow or lime green jackets they are forced to wear, the only bright spot in the day.  How depressing a park can be after rain or in winter.  Roll on Spring.

An A4 envelope crashed through the door today.  Inside there was a letter from a charity, a four page letter, detailing the sob story they work amongst, a reply envelope, a car, a three page handout detailing the work at Christmas all wrapped in a big envelope.  My first reaction was simple, if they can afford an appeal of this size they can do without my money.  Money spent asking for money can be saved by sending out less and more to the point I say.
This came from a  place I have helped before, a good place doing good work especially at Christmas. However as I mentioned to one (well run) charity a while back I do not wish large amounts of guff asking for money and all of it ends up in the recycling.  Brief details well written tell more and may get my sympathy.  I recall one charity working amongst children sending out small plastic packets containing a sugar/water mix that they feed starving children, my attitude was send that to where it is needed not to me!  
A quick glance at 'Charity' on Google (Google, there is a charity that is doing well!) reveals hundreds and thousands of charities asking for cash.  Some are small local ones, good for them, others huge national world wide operations paying the top people over a hundred thousand a year (charity eh?) and I am not sure they are making the best use of the cash with such administration.
Clearly charities have to fight to get our money, clearly there is much need, clearly this failing government is contributing to the need by throwing people on the streets and failing to provide care where it is needed.  There will always be a requirement for charity and in this country people are always willing to give, I just wonder if the money is always used correctly, administration organised properly and my limited cash is being used in the most appropriate manner.

 

Dreich, Cold and Miserable...

And so is the weather....

Still Dreich

The mist lingers yet.  Dreich indeed are the days so there is little to see outside, not unusual in December.  Sunday saw a Christmas service with lots of kids reading things and making things in church, not deeply spiritual but a laugh for all concerned.  Last night I took my aching knees back down again for the carol service, the usual reading sandwich type of thing, and returned mince pie full and ready to sleep.
A dreich day brightened by the occasions and the people around (all the young women wanted me) and I found several Xmas cards awaiting me.  On top of that all those little jobs that must be done I avoided and hopped it before they began!
I answered the cards received by making use of the web.  A home made card which satisfied all, well not the one who didn't know who I was.  Much easier than scribbling out a hundred cheap cards for folks. 

While mist can lead to nice pictures it is just dreich when the sun fails to break through.  All around is gray and miserable, a bit like the people wandering around town, with added pressure of those last minute gifts required.  
World news is boring, all is being put aside for the Christmas break and journalists forced to work over the period are looking forward to a disaster somewhere (preferably warm) from where they can fill the time.  Otherwise it is shopping trips, weather and road accidents, not great news coverage.  

One good thing today was the Water bill.  This told me I owed the greedy money grabbers no more than a mere 25 pence!  The lowest bill I have received ever.  This of course is because of the monthly direct debit, it cost £205 over the entire year, which would be worse if I bathed more than once in a blue moon.  It never fails to amaze me how much water I waste.   How often the tap is left running, how much is wasted in the kitchen and how deep the bath water tends to be when I am reading my books in there.  From today water, along with electric, will be used sparingly.

Sexist!

It's Been Dreich Today.

Collecting the fruit and veg (eat mangos before they go off by 5 O'clock) in a dreich misty day again.

It was the same yesterday.  At least it keeps the park free from adolescents all day and all night.

However while Thursday began misty by lunchtime I could keep my window open all day and not freeze.  This is December!  Who says there is no global warming?  

The Friends of the Museum hold a raffle each Christmas to raise money for the museum and rip off daft people who pay 50p for a ticket, books of 4 tickets are available.  Naturally at this great draw there are many prizes, around 40 this year so I was keen to get my hands on one.  Naturally being there I participated as did all others in picking occasional tickets from the large black bag in which someone had placed them having spent the day folding them first.  Naturally I got nothing!  The fact that four people obtained two prizes each, one at least who wins every year, did not annoy me, although it annoyed others.  Instead I approached them and asked if they would share a Lottery ticket with me on the biggest Million Pound draw, naturally they refused!

Instead I returned to work on one of the village war memorials, although this is not really a village these days.  Black Notley lies a wee bit to the south of the town but few realise that much of the town actually comes under the village itself.  It took me a while to grasp this.  That is why several men who fell in two wars appear not on the main war memorial but on the Black Notley one.  The village remains a village, much larger than in times past, but the few streets and huddle of houses of 1914 are now large estates of council, or ex-council homes.  
This is a memorial I worked on a few years ago.  I obtained the basics, printed it off as I ought, and then lost the link!  So when someone mentioned their ancestor was one of the men here I looked again and discovered the loss of link.  In fact three other village links have gone west.  I gave one to the lass at a villages museum and forgot about it but in fact I must have deleted the links, all the gathered information and lost everything.  I now must start them all again!
Good job the villages were small...Bah!

 
 

Dreich Night!

It was a dark and stormy night as I made my weary way homewards from another extra turn at the museum.  The rain pelted down, the wet streets enticing only for pictures of lamplight reflecting thereon.  All was closing for the night bar supermarkets and public houses.  I avoided the pubs but bought bread from Tesco, it was the cheap option.  

The vast sums spent on Christmas lights in the town was well worth it, there is a smattering of them to the top right off the picture.  Such lights have drawn out the crowds as you can see. 

Standing in the rain with two loaves of cheap 'Tiger Bread' in the bag I pondered on those who can afford to stay, eat, and be made welcome in the hotel.  What brings them here?  One at least is a one time resident on holiday visiting his past and his relatives, this is not uncommon, but who are the others?  There is little to see in the town but the Museum and the handsome welcoming staff (but only when I'm on) although many travel around Essex and discover there is indeed a lot to see and it is a county worth visiting, unlike the general impression of the place.

Being too wet to ponder I dripped home to enjoy a supper of cheese and bread with added indigestion.  Then watched football while my head looked for my brain which appears more dead than usual at the moment.  You will note how few cars were around last night at this time, how unusual is this?  Are they scared of the wet?

Back to work tomorrow as she who must be obeyed has a school in and no-one to help when they come into the shop, all 60 of them!  Guess who volunteered!

Dreich Day

A dreich day indeed, wind blowing rain appearing and nothing happening but routine housework - much of which is still undone.  However the day was enlightened by the news that a judge has ruled the 'Bedroom Tax' imposed on the poorest as unlawful!  How good of him!  This pernicious tax, a tax paid by council tenants on each bedroom that is no longer occupied by a family member.  It goes without saying the poorest, often aged parents, were the ones hardest hit.  Now this disgraceful tax has been dealt a blow and I wonder if those who have paid will get a full refund and those who have been forced into other, often less suitable accommodation will receive compensation.  Certainly there is a lawyer somewhere sharpening his pen looking for a client.

 

Daily Mail

Another 'major' story is the one where a headteacher has banned parents from bringing children to school while wearing night attire.  It appears this is what 'slummy mummies' do today.  Somehow I cannot help feeling that something is wrong when mothers care so little about how they dress that they regularly fail to be dressed when taking kids to school - if indeed the wee brats need a mummy to accompany them by that age.  My mother would not have held in high esteem any women so thoughtlessly dressed, indeed she would have considered them in need of care.  
Naturally in today's world some have arisen offering support claiming a mum has the right to do what she wishes.  True, but it is better if she wishes to use her brain and bring her child up properly and not like a lazy slapper, innit? 

 Standard

Andros Townsend has left Tottenham Hotspur to play for Newcastle United.  Newcastle have agreed to pay some £12 million for his services and one paper claims the player now increases his salary from £20,000  week to £55,000 a week.  Is this a sign of desperation from Newcastle or just realism as whoever they buy will wish for similar amounts?

Daily Mail

Claude money spent over ten years painting this mural, an image of his garden and it is a colossal work.  It is being put on show at the Royal Academy of Art in London and in my view it is a con.  Art is of course a con, almost all art is about making a name for yourself and lining your pockets, you know the type of 'artist' I refer to.  
Another is putting on show stuff like this while people pander to the 'in crowd' by speaking in hushed tones of the 'light' the 'handicraft' or the quality of the art.  Total cobblers!
Someone somewhere wishes to pay several billion for this and store it in his house and boast to his friends that he owns it, Putin probably, and jealous friends will gather round to view the painting in secret and be part of the 'in crowd.' 
Me, I think it boring and a dull background in a large hall but nothing special.
People however will queue for hours to spend vast sums staring at this.
Bah!
  

Bristol Univ

Art?

Away With the Birds

The world has been shrouded in mist today and I had a 'couldn't be bothered' day at that.  However I dragged myself out before noon to wander through the gardens looking for misty pictures.  It has to be said that I was too late, the mist was clearing somewhat and what could have produced interesting shots two hours before offered merely damp scenes now.  
However up on the bare branch sat this Robin singing away to the surrounding world informing them that this was his patch so gerrroutofit and if any passing women were available he wanted his next tidied.   He sat there some time.  
I love the song of such birds, as he is part of the Thrush family like Blackbirds he can sing very well.  The song resounded all around and it is sad that I have no record of his voice to offer.  Maybe I will think quicker next time.  

Gey dreich in the distance however and this is how it was as I plodded homewards.  Dampness all around including my shoes and the chill in the air indicating the mild winter is ending and a cold spell appearing.  This times nicely with the request for my Gas Meter reading which arrived today.  I promptly ran slowly downstairs, read the meter, sent off the numbers and noted how my use of gas has fallen slightly in these last few months.   The gas man will not be happy with this.  He might not be able to make me pay more this time, but he will certainly not reduce the price even if he has got gas cheaper than ever!

While the Robins and other wee birds sang, chased one another and stuffed themselves the Wood Pigeons (which are not made out of wood) merely spent their time sullenly sitting high in the tree gathered together but at a distance from one another.  Rare to see two sit together unless it's hanky panky time.  The people around were similarly morose today, the weather does this.  Therefore I am off to bed to sullenly grumble to myself about the weather and the lack of interesting activities around here.

Blessed with Mirk

The mirk besieged us today, clouds and rain, mist and dreichness considered us worthy of a visit.  Walking to St Paul's this morning left me soaked with drizzle after a few minutes, however not being one to complain I hobbled on without demur and found shelter there eventually. 
Not much else has happened today.

My ansafone died!  I believe this was caused by the girls at work shrill voices leaving messages for me, they killed it and it refused to accept any messages.  This meant a new one was required, not that these things last more than a few years these days.  So off I trooped to Argos and obtained one selling at half price.  
This was good!  Almost exactly half price and no obvious reason to consider a con was taking place.  So I paid my money, willingly offering my (well) used grubby notes and headed home triumphant.  Here I unpacked, checked the contents and then discovered the brute insisted that only the rechargeable batteries are used.  "OK," said I before I realised they did not include the charger!  All others possess one but this model does not, that was why it was cheap.  Grrr!  Now I have to trace a suitable (non exploding) charger on EBAY.  Not that I have got round to actually setting up this thing.  One look at the instructions made it clear they could have been written in Cantonese as far as I was concerned as they made no sense to me.  They still don't.  Bah!
Tomorrow while I enjoy the continuation of the dark clouds overhead I may spend an hour or two attempting to set this thing up.  I may on the other hand just lie on the floor staring at the ceiling as that will be just as efficient.

Dreich Saturday

This morning the plan was to rise at six thirty, cycle around for a while, visit the fruit & veg man, shop at Tesco and post the last two Christmas cards.  A simple straight forward day.  As I rose just after seven the wireless announced rain, I peered through the condensation soaked windows at the gray clouds and the drizzling rain to confirm their suspicions.  The bike faded from my mind, the veg could wait and I suddenly considered a slow breakfast important.
I eventually managed the shopping, lots of almost but not quite gone off fruit amongst it, one day I might take some of his 'eat quickly' fruit and stick it in a large vessel and let it ferment.  It might turn into a nice fruit liqueur!  Nothing then happened.
It didn't happen later on either.
The last cards entered Royal Mail's keeping, I wandered through Amazon looking for the last two gifts and had to stop myself spending large sums on myself!  Why do they offer books I want but not books I require for others?  I find other shops often have a similar problem.  I am still looking for the other books...

 
I then spent lunchtime watching the Heart of Midlothian up at Aberdeen.  I could have wished the game to have been rained off!  It was not very good.  We eventually lost to a lucky goal.  I spent several minutes in tears then went wandering through the charity shops to cheer myself up.  I succeeded in this the simple way by not spending any money.  That at least was a good thing today.
The rain continues, the clouds promise to remain all week, I promise to keep wearing my 'Bah Humbug! hat at work where it serves a purpose.  I wish I had bought more I could have made a packet selling them!  Bah!
I'm going back to bed...

Now I'm Not One to Complain, but...

The weather is miserable, dank and dreich!  Drizzle swept from the skies as I sauntered across the park seeking fresh air, I found dampness.  The thrush stood head in the air listening for worms grovelling below while sprinkles of water bounced off her beak.  She glared at me as if it were my fault and I hastened into Sainburys for the bread. 
As I approached the lass at the checkout one of those cheery helpful recorded announcements was made.  This happily informed us of a bargain somewhere in the store and continued lying to us in a cheery voice.  I indicated to the girl that a slap was what he really required and she agreed. She claimed he only came in to do announcements then ran for home while they dealt with the throng of people for the rest of the day, most grumbling about the so called bargain he had just announced. Early in the day we do not require cheery happy people, unless we are burning them at the stake!

Having made it home through the drizzle I have been sitting here staring at the laptop rewriting the draft.  It is still rubbish in my view.  Better than it was but not good enough, it just does not flow.  She who must be obeyed wants this tomorrow, it is funny how tomorrow is approaching much faster than it used to.  Having taken a break to eat and do the laundry, it is July after all, I now sit here stuffed full of bad chicken and worse chips.  It was all I could be bothered with.  My diet is not liking this either.  

Returning from the shops this morning I came through the dingle dell like area where the humidity, the dank leaves and the bad tempered Blackbird upset because I was stopping him have breakfast all gave a taste of a tropical jungle.  The trees were wet with rain, leaves dripped water on me, unless it was that Blackbird, and breathing the air was a delight.  Whether I would like this for hours at a time 
in a real jungle I am not sure but it was an interesting change from normal dankness.

Now I must return to 1943, or is it 42?  This war is dragging on and the casualty rate is rising.  Indeed it is 1942, I got ahead of myself.  I did this with one house which I bombed two years too early.  I suppose I ought to apologise to the deceased.  At least we are not alone now, the Soviets and Yanks have joined in.  The Russians will fight the Germans and the Yanks will fight anyone who tries to stop them stealing our wimmen!  "Got any gum chum?" and that's not the kids asking is it!

Saturday Cogitating

I thought I was in Edinburgh when I awoke this morning, the rain was hammering down.  This continued until nearly four in the afternoon trapping decent people indoors, me too.  There was no choice but to do all those things left undone all Christmas/New Year week(s) but sadly I failed to do them.  I tried Oh I tried but by the time a small breakfast had finished it was time to prepare the early lunch before the Edinburgh Derby at 12:45.  So there was little space left to touch the things that have been untouched for too long. Anyway it is Saturday and such things should be done midweek when the building is quiet and I disturb none.  So I left them untouched.

The Edinburgh Derby, the most important football match since time began (time began on Christmas Day 1875 when the Heart of Midlothian defeated Hibernians (as they were then known) by one goal to nil as you know) takes place four time a season at the moment and the Heart of Midlothian are of course totally dominant in this fixture.  Easily worried wimps however have begun to fear that the revival amongst Hibernian (as they are now known) may lead to a historic defeat for the Heart of Midlothian. Such types are usually found among the younger element.  I was not born the last time the Heart of Midlothian lost this game.  Indeed this time the forces of wickedness put their thuggery to good use to obtain a draw, one goal each.  Totally undeserved as but for the brutal tackling of their ape like defenders we would have won as easily as usual.  Once again the Hibs manager claimed "We were the better team, we should have had a penalty," just like he did last time and all Hibs managers have claimed since 1875, which was surprising as penalties did not exist then.  So I watched this and attempted to watch an English game but they have no meaning after such an important event.

The rain dispersed at four and I ventured out into the dismal streets.  The market was closed and the stalls all packed up.  Business must have been bad as even my 'desperate for every penny' veg stall had almost completely packed away his goods.  Nothing remained but damp streets and rare soggy shoppers squelching their way homewards.  

I  sought a picture but found few.  Taking one I discovered a woman getting out of her car just below the shot I was taking, she very suspicious that I was photographing her!  How self obsessed are these women?  At your age dearie? Pah!  However I moved elsewhere before she started screaming.  I have not forgotten the last time and honest I did not realise her window was open officer!  

My diet has meant desperation to lose weight, today I realised I was not eating enough and have stuffed myself with carbohydrates (I canny spell 'chips') and Sticky Toffee pudding to make myself feel better.

I now feel sick.

Also on the agenda is a review of the budget.  Having been extremely poor for a while, I have moved from pauperism into poverty now, it became noticeable that I was spending just too freely.  Where once I shopped careful of every penny now I was losing control and spending with too little care.  It is time for a rethink.  However it is noticeable that while the supermarkets claim people are spending less I find prices have risen considerably in the past two years alone. No wonder some find themselves using 'foodbanks.'  In spite of fiddling the books in good Conservative style the Tesco's of this world have been losing cash while overcharging the rest of us and claiming we are saving money!  My budget review is nearly done, a walk round the grasping supermarkets once more is required to reign in the spending totally.  (I wonder if I can save enough for a new camera....?)  Look, greed appears again!  Tsk!  

Around me are piled lots of books and papers, none of which are completed or ever likely to be completed.  My life is always unfinished, should I compose a symphony perhaps?  Now I have decided to review the budget maybe I should review these undone things that need done and complete the half read books. There are several language books, Russian, so old it is all Communist in style, Latin, two at least, and English which is too complicated for me learning it as a foreign language.  A pile to my right concern the local scene, all pinched acquired from the museum and unread as we worked through the Great War, that is also unfinished and the names list is not yet completed, I have only got to 'R' jings! On top of all this lies that layer of dust that has to be dealt with also.  I wonder where that comes from, I only removed it a month or so ago.  

Considering all that has made me weary, I reckon the best thing to do is to lie down for a while and see if it is all different tomorrow, I'm sure it will be....

.

Dull, Dreich New Year.

The year begins as I suspect it wishes to go on, dull, dreich, dismal and damp. I took myself out after the Dundee derby played in the usual dull, dreich, Dundee derby style weather and sauntered around the empty streets.  Imagine my surprise to find a near empty 'Argos' shop open for business. One or two other shops also considered it worth while paying time and a half, or even double time, to lose money opening today.  Few people trawling the shops for bargains, clearly many still in bed judging by the closed curtains all around.  Scotland would have been entirely closed today, and probably similar tomorrow, as the effects of the season wore off.  I still after all this time find it amazing that so many folks are keen to work on such a day.   So it's a quiet dreich start, with little in the way of new years greetings from passers-by down here, but that is nothing new, and a new year full of promise and bad weather ahead of us.

The only smiling faces to be seen were those of the dogs in the park.  From the grubby window I watched several happily wagging tails sniffing their way through the early morning gloom.  Well wrapped individuals trailed along, desperate to get back to the fireside, while the dog rummaged through the grass for friends unseen.  Today one hairbrush with a collar noted a rabbit that lives near the car park on the other side and chased after it.  Bunny was quickly back inside the bushes and no doubt deep underground within minutes.  The hairbrush cared little at his loss and made off in the other direction with the owner.  Yesterday the man with several dogs was seen clearly on the white ice covered park. He stood out clearly from the white background as did the mutts wandering about, tails wagging in the frozen ground.  Did they realise it was ice cold?  Yes, but did they care?  No!  The dogs had a whale of a time as always, no matter the weather.  

I did manage to fit in almost three complete football matches but my attention was distracted by becoming hooked on 'Watson's Block Game.'  That irritating block game that is so difficult to stop!

In the real world people pay vast sums for an 'X'-Box or PS something or other and buy violent guns and explosions type games to while away the hours. Rarely do any of these hero's enlist in the armed forces but if they do the training helps.  Me, myself and I however find one of the Solitaire games exciting enough and occasionally something else comes along.  For some years now I have taken periods where I get hooked on the block Game and today has been one of them.  Luckily there were vast amounts of goals being scored to distract me now and again but I did lose concentration on the football.  The problem is I have become addicted to using the keyboard!  If I am watching something on here my fingers demand to press keys.  Therefore I must play the Block Game or find something similar if any exists to occupy my fingers.  Life is so hard when you are an addict!

I hope your day has been good and the new year portends well for each and every one, in spite of all those difficulties we all face.  Remember, it could be worse, you could be English!

       

Gey Dreich, and so is Royal Mail.

Another gey dreich day for the citizens of the 'driest county in England.'  If I wished to live under a perpetual cloud with added rain I would have stayed in Edinburgh.  In fact yesterday was one of the frequent bright sunshine days with a bitter cold wind meaning any use of the fridge was unnecessary. 
Later the normal conditions returned.  
However the rain bringing down the leaves, stimulating the earth and drenching the flora around us does bring out a rich mixture of aromas not all being unpleasant.  Indeed a walk across the park enriches the mind and stimulates the brain as the fruits of creation, even those turning overnight into compost, release their contents.  
The light changes with the clouds above and the colour of fallen leaves below, even though this camera could not replicate this here.  A wee stab of light from the hidden sun was called upon but refused to show, it appears ten thousand feet of cloud blot out the sun.  The distant mist is not unpleasant to look at, though the woman who puts out her washing may disagree, and while the rain stays out of the holes in my shoes it was not disagreeable to walk amongst miserable dogwalkers with happy dogs and occasional Blackbirds seeking a late breakfast.

  
After the rain decided to cease to some extent I hobbled off to the Post Office.  I had to resend one  of my books to another part of Essex as someone had nicked one from the envelope!  The poor lass called me to say she received the envelope and letter but the book was missing, the envelope ripped down the side.  My work is so precious postmen are stealing it!  The problem it appears from my experience is the main sorting offices.  Here as many as 400 are employed, some of who's backgrounds are not always checked very well, and opportunities for self enrichment do occur.  Local offices suffer this also, our local recently lost one man who had been at it for years, a man I knew and like everyone else trusted totally!  He is now serving 16 months!  Missing mail is usually nothing to do with your local postie, almost all goes from the main sorting office.  Someone there is at least learning something, that I do not enclose money in envelopes.  
However on the way back I met a postwoman doing the round she has had for years.  I have done this and it is a difficult walk, on a steep hill, with houses placed in awkward positions, lots of small slopes which weary the legs, and a finish that is most despairing to those who have to do it.  Not the worst I have done but this lass is not as young as she was and deserves something better.  
The thing is she was pushing one of these appalling trolleys.  For reasons difficult to comprehend Royal mail, now sold off on the cheap to the private sector (Did you know that this government enabled some friends to buy many shares on the promise to keep them for a while to stabalise the shares. George Osbornes 'Best man' at his wedding was one such.  He took many shares and sold them the next day for £35 Million! ), decided to take away the postmen's bikes and replace them with these trolleys. An absurd idea for many and this lass suffers from it.  It is now impossible for her to do her work in the time allotted.  On a bike it took five minutes to reach the first drop, it also took about five to return to the depot at the end, both journeys pushing the trolley take around ten to fifteen minutes for the same journey, that's thirty minutes lost from the start!  Between drops there are open spaces, walking between these is slower than using a bike, especially going downhill, and I guess this change of equipment has added an hour to a round. How stupid is that?
The claim from Royal Mail that this method avoids posties carrying heavy bags and suffering back pain is rubbish as they suffer pushing trolleys uphill, through busy pavements also.  Cycle accidents are avoided this way, but trolley ones are not?  In short it was a gimmick,  the bikes have been rounded up and sent to Africa as a piece of corporate charity.  This sounds good but not at all like Royal Mail.  I suspect someone there is now selling them at high price and lining his pockets.  
The mail delivery is slower, the posties unhappy, (in spite of the good for nothing union agreeing to these trolleys nobody wanted them) and with Christmas upon us we will soon see them struggle through the rain, sleet and snow all the while expecting a tip!  
Royal Mail, like all privatised companies, is a mess and it will only get worse. 

Dreich!

.

Busy Friday

It’s not long after nine on Friday morning.  This is the day I do the women’s work, hoovering, dusting, rubbish removal and the like.  So far I have failed to get off my seat and this is an excuse to remain here. Through the condensation steeped window I can just make out the light gray sky above, something that reminds me of an Edinburgh summers day, and in the leaf strewn park occasional passers by pass by, some late for work others keen on enriching Mr Tesco or Mr Sainsbury.  This does not incite me into following them.

The dullness of the sky is reflected in the dullness of the living quarters.  I switch on the light and watch the room get darker.  Books and papers lie askew around the desk, the sofa, and the floor.  Cables and plugs lie dust grained in corners, and green oranges are noted at the bottom of the fruit bowl.  I puzzle as to quite what that lump in between the fridge and the cupboard is, I am not too sure but it has been there for some time....

Later.

The women's work has been done, the air is filled with flying debris as choking and spluttering I wonder if it is time to empty that vacuum?  This dusting business is a laugh.  As I write the dust removed from the bookcases replaces the dust removed from the desk.  I suggest the dust from the desk now deposits itself happily on the books.  Thus the world turns.  The so called years of evolution that shaped the earth are nothing more than dust particles moving from one place to another, like sand dunes shifting the Sahara south.  No wonder the world has never run out of cleaners.  

I have looked at the 'to do' list once again, hopefully tomorrow I will look at it again.  If it were not for the football at midday I might even do one of the items on the list.  For today, as the weather is not attempting to change its ways, I will merely go back to updating that never ending website.  This is slowly taking shape but each name requires at least half an hour and sometimes it takes longer.  On two occasions I have discovered I was listing the wrong man and that has had to be changed. Hopefully nobody has copied the details.  The thing about the First World War information is the need to check everything.  So many details are incorrect, understandable in the circumstances, but the backroom staff at the time have actually done a marvellous job considering the difficulties of detailing so much as accurately as possible.  I hope I am reasonably accurate.

Much later.

I stumbled out this afternoon to get some deep breaths of vehicle pollution and made my way across the dim gray park towards the shops.  As I shuffled by I watched a boy, aged about 8 years, throwing his dogs lead for the beast to catch.  He and the golden retriever were having a ball, without a ball.  His mum enjoyed the sight of them pulling at either end of the lead, especially when the lad stood on the lead and the dog happily pulled him over the damp grass as he stood on the thing.  An enjoyable encounter in which passing strangers had to laugh, especially as they all knew what strange happiness a young lad playing with a dog can obtain.
There were no signs of happiness in the store however, just suspicious glances and surly looks.  There I obtained the bottle of beer I see as being ideal for yuletide, 'Bah Humbug!'  What it tastes like I as yet know not but if acceptable more will be purchased and used as gifts.  It seems right, but maybe I am being too satirical for some.  I will no doubt find out.  Too much of Christmas requires satire in my mind.

    
It has become the norm for these 'Continental Markets' to spring up in the town centre every so often. While they are popular enough for the stallholders to return it was pretty slack as I passed.  The varieties of foodstuffs appeals, the prices do not.  Neither does the ability of women to stand in the middle of the passageway blocking everybody while contemplating with dull eyes the good on show they then do not buy!  Paella, vegetable curry and the banned cheeses looked good but would cost around a fiver a time.  Even the bread I did fancy was far too dear, Tesco sell similar at half the cost, but maybe tomorrow if they have some of the fancy bread I occasionally buy I may splash out and ruin what is left of my diet, maybe.  

Now all I have to do is write the blog...hold on.  I must have missed something out today, I should be filling this page last thing at night when half asleep.  Oh well, early bed....   

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Dreich

That sums up my day.  A few household chores, some exercise (well five minutes) some cleaning, some research, some yawning and that is my day.  A walk round town leaving my knee aching, a dinner of fishcakes to make my stomach feel the same!  It's a good job I am not one to complain!

I searched for news in the papers and found none.  Celebs pictured, politicians lying, pressmen lying, murderers caught while lying, sex on every page, health tips from the 'Daily Mail' now that's trustworthy innit!  Nothing to watch on telly, BBC iplayer would not start in the morning, rubbish available when it did, and now I have found a wee football game somewhere in the English wilderness. Actually that could be next door......

Oh sleep, to sleep perchance to dream etc..... 

Dreich Bank Holiday

Bank Holiday usually indicates dull clouds and wet streets, this bank holiday has therefore not disappointed as it is gray, wet and dreich.  Not that I care as the virus has left me looking for sleep most of the time.  Sunday was a bright day but I watched it from my bed, except when I left to watch the football.  The brute of a virus hangs around today also and tomorrow the kids will fill the museum. I'll get them some time off school the week after if I cough enough.  I ventured as far as the bins this afternoon suddenly realising how many adverts are found on the shop wall next door.  It reminded me of those Victorian photos when such advertising abounded everywhere, clearly uncontrolled at the time. It makes me wonder if the council notice, or care to notice, whether this breaks some by-law.  I hope they do not notice as he is a good man struggling to make his business work.  Without the ads it is possible the town could not operate properly.  

The good book says we should not rejoice when our enemy falls, that is not the heart of God in action, however I allowed myself a moment or two of giggling. You see Hibernian, who I may have mentioned before, played their 'play-off' game against Hamilton Accies on Sunday and were in an unbeatable position. It was impossible for them to lose their two goal advantage against a team from the lower division.  Yet they did!  Worse, they went on to lose a penalty shoot out and all this after laughing out loud at our relegation, caused as we all admit by mismanagement leading to administration. Hibernian's talented players have by sheer willpower crawled from Fifth place in the league to the lower relegation! Oh how we laughed!  Now I am not one to taunt the Hibbys when they are down - but I managed it! It fair cheered me up and wore me out! They are not speaking to me today, it's a giggle innit?  

So here is the victor of the moment, posed appropriately in front of English flags, enjoying his breakfast I presume.  He will sleep well tonight content with the fear running through Westminster.  The Conservative Party have watched their voters run to Farage and Labour watched their voters stay at home.  Half a million people in this region voted for UKIP, and ten thousand in Edinburgh voted that way and that is a surprise to me!  This area is dominated by wealthy Conservative types but there is also a large working class Tory vote and they have gone for UKIP in a big way.  Whatever happens in the next few weeks I know not but Scotland must go for independence, England will be dominated by the right of centre for the next few years.  Some of those are so far to the right they think Thatcher was a Communist!  If you have never prayed - start now!  

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