Camulodunum, Charity Shops, Gays in Gents, Hastening Bus Drivers, War Memorials, and Corn Fields and Blue Skies.

I hesitated about going out today yesterday, I was tired physically but my brain was needing a change of scenery.  Just being indoors I begin to go 'stir crazy.'  So, I trooped of early to catch the 10:20 bus.  We left at 10:28, and not just because of the Zimmer users.  I looked forward to green fields, waving corn, and gray skies.  At least the sky was often gray.  

We had not gone far, just about to leave the town border as a woman with pushchair and 3 years old attempted to leave the bus.  The pushchair was easy enough but the kid would not move.  Mum encouraged, demanded, apologised to the passengers, took his toy, but he would not leave the bus.  Screaming ensued, from him, while we all grinned and laughed.  Mum took action, slinging him screaming over her shoulder and forged her way off the bus.  Everyone laughed, almost all of us have either been the mum or the kid, as it were!

Having left 8 minutes late we naturally arrived one minute early!  Considering we faced three road blockages, one from BT Outreach replacing telegraph poles and digging holes, one from routine road works, and one from traffic blocking cars half parked on road and pavement.  Why not on the pavement, there is no-one around, it's a country house, why block a busy road?  

On arrival I hobbled slowly through one or two remaining charity shops.  Some have gone since I was last here about 4 years ago. It amazes me how things change so quickly.  What were charity shops were now doing good, but expensive business.  How can such shops survive here but not in our town?  

The picture?  I have no idea.  She stands there, marching all in black, along the street, why?  What or who does she represent?  I have no idea.

Having ensured sufficient water before I left I visited the Gents.  While clean and modern they are also these days a meeting place for gay boys.  I entered not long after what I assumed to be a normal man but found him standing right next to a another with several spaces empty.  I noisily, very noisily, used a not so clean cubicle.  A perversion, legalised for the privacy of your own home, now appears to be standard in this Gents as it is in so many others.  If such activity is legal how come they are gathering in such places?  Have they no clubs to meet in, no cafe's, why use this place in an underhand manner.  The man I followed had left as I made for the door, but the early arrival was still there.   I was tempted to say something but would only have caused offence.  At least offence I may not be too unhappy to cause.  However, I refrained and moved on.

Having searched more shops, Millets (nice hats with huge prices), Edinburgh Woollen Mill (Based in Hawick, full of old people and charging £210 for a Tweed jacket), and a walk through Waterstones without looking in case I bought something, I took the obligatory War Memorial picture.  This one says so much about the people of the time, the need to glorify a war in which so many died, the need to show off the towns wealth, and the link to fables as History.  I do however admire the statues on offer, though spiders have been making use of them these days.

I considered rummaging through the crowds, sitting in one of the overpriced pubs, or eating at a greasy spoon café, but decided to run for the bus instead.  My knees had seen enough, nothing worth buying had appeared, and I was realising just how weary I had become.  So, obtaining, for £1:19, a bottle of 'Aqua,' a plastic bottle of cold Romanian water I made for the bus stand.  Romanian bottled water with a Latin name?  Well I suppose since Trajan took over what was then called Dacia in the year 106 AD, the Roman influence has been felt there.  The name, or one similar is attested some 400 or so years back but how Roman the people are today after the last couple of hundred years is anyone's guess. 

The water was almost cold, the bus was almost due, my task was to find it.  Once again the bus stops had changed.  Many people stood staring at the timetables while searching for their bus, their stop and soon their bus passes.  I was one of them!  After some time I worked out what 'Ac' meant, wandered slowly in that direction, found the bus waiting but without a driver.  Several waited, glancing at the watches, while the driver, sitting on a seat nearby, ignored them.  

The bus driver on the 10:20 was a happy soul, this one, when he arrived, was not.  Grunting to the boarding passengers he then treated us to a display of sharp braking, caused by going too fast and suddenly finding a stop required.  Consistently racing along when he could, only to sit in a suitable place and wait while the timetable caught up with him, and he even attempted to avoid one man trying to board as he did not wish to miss the green light at the road works.  We spent an hour being thrown forward constantly until we arrived, still breathing bus fumes in spite of all the open windows, at our destination.  We clambered off, but not as fast as the driver, as he headed for home.  At least we know why he was miserable, the end of a long, warm day driving a bus full of the public!

On the way, while bouncing back and forth, I attempted to make use of my little aged Leica.  This wee camera is old, full of dust, and I was looking through a filthy window that has not been cleaned for a while.  The results as you can see are not great.  I was however, glad to see the fields, though quite a few have been turned into expensive houses for the Camulodunum elite.  

On occasions the sun had shone, the clouds gathered, and after I got home the rain fell.  I let it, I was too tired to care.  I have to realise I am not fit, I and not 32 as I claim, and I canny do too much at the same time.  I must pace my wizened body better.  Last night I ate everything that lay around, finished the Brandy, and slept well.  Today I eat and sleep, while clearing up all those things on the laptop that are outdated or useless links that have long since died.  

In truth yesterday was a disappointing day.  The town itself was quieter than usual, I think they have stopped buses running through the main streets, the shops same as always, most people quite sociable, and half the bus drivers happy at work.  Imagine, not only did I walk through Waterstones without buying, I avoided the other bookshops, the charity books also, and came away with nothing.  I really was too tired!

Short Jaunt

Waking before six at this time of year is not a bad thing in my view, unless like me you have had insufficient sleep yet the brain will not close down.  This dumb approach to life left me spotting this picture first thing and attempting to reproduce the yellowness of the early morning sun, quite something today.  Within a few minutes I was on the bike and racing slowly towards the old railway in an attempt to enjoy cycling when its quiet.

Fifteen minutes later and the cloud was beginning to blot out the sun, typical.  Instead I pondered over the farmer who has sown wheat here and is half way through harvesting the crop.  He has been desperate to sell to a local money grabbing developer for years and once again has put in a bid to erect around 500 houses.  This would fill the space between town and village causing much upset and ruining the old railway as a glimpse of country much loved and required by folks like me.  
Who can blame a farmer for wanting out?  Once Bexit comes and the promises of Brexiteers are seen as hollow regarding the cash farmers would receive, fishermen have just began t understand that also, then food production will be unprofitable and Farmer Jones's all over the shop will be unhappy.  However a strenuous effort by people with talent has opposed this move once again and it may well be that they will succeed in stopping this development.  Several others are ongoing all around this area, the Tories are keen to build on 'green land' as their friends the developers are cashing in and they get something out of it, those with expensive homes get bills and debt while we all lose a green lung.    

Farmer Jones has got the huff once again and forced the Rangers to erect fences ensuring the public do not take their dogs onto his land, something they have been doing to his fallow fields for years.  Behind this one he has also chopped trees and attempted vainly to block the long established path and ensure he is continued to be loved by local residents.  Further up the road a similar large plot was threatened with housebuilding and someone bought the fields and turned them into a decent nature reserve, well it will be in a few years when grown.  That would cost a great deal here however as the area is quite extensive.  

 
How nice to see the bike out in the country again.  Not that I went far, just far enough to wake me up, and then return to do the ironing and have a jolly day with that....any woman willing to lend a hand?

Meandering Waffle

I managed to survive the big day on Sunday, 'Textile Day' was a roaring success and by a clever trick I survived this day - I stayed at home!  It appears the multitudes did arrive, did spend money, did buy loads of cards in handfuls, did gossip, admire and altogether have a real good time.  I had better, I stayed in bed.
Tuesday however I was warned of a group arriving to visit, this soon occurred.  One woman arrived just after ten when she claimed they all would be meeting, ignoring the women gathering outside.  Eventually another woman arrived and then they came together to the prearranged meeting with one of my many bosses.  However still they women arrived, all of dubious ages, as there was a second group meeting here but not informing us, and they happily gathered themselves together slowly until they all arrived much later than planned.  It was however not their fault.  
This at a time when we have just begun to replace the heating system therefore half the museum is out of bounds.  Plumbers and staff, not me I must not leave my post, spent the day moving, clearing, carrying and hiding things while I attended to the ladies.  

While one meeting went quickly, as quickly as any all female meeting can go, the other group sauntered around examining each item and discussing its merits and meaning. I did not listen in, I had my own opinions.  The girls happily spent much time on each exhibit, and some it must be said are very well done, before coming in to the shop on the way out and spending money!  This was pleasing.  Such exhibitions do not attract great crowds during the year so to see groups making the most of them and enjoying themselves, and they appeared happy, was a good thing.

The laptop has been playing up.  It has been running slow and I have run all the proper items to speed things and also removed and altered other items.  On top of this the online banking has not allowed me in, so I must spend time changing all the info to see how much I have not got.  All this takes time as I also have been sorting out all the items on those memory sticks which are lying around.  These have become somewhat confused and there are several items (big items) on more than one disk and often twice on that!  
During this process, in between the grunts, swear words and oops I've closed it down somehow, reactions I have been discovering old pictures.  This one taken at Sandbanks a while back.  How lovely to be there when the sun shines, or indeed at other times.  At one time I considered moving there but it never felt right, which is a pity as I miss the sea and friends are there, but they at least are happy so that is one thing I suppose.

This Lightship was based at St Katherine's Dock positioned as you can see near Tower Bridge.  These one time busy docks had been transformed into residences of a variety of ships and the warehouses around contained shops etc and flats above for the upcoming rich.  In the late 70's I wandered down Wapping High Street, until then I had always known High Streets as laces full of shops and businesses but here I discovered, in between the empty spaces left by WW2 bombing, towering warehouses on both sides of the street.  A bit run down and seedy with the occasional burnt out church or ruin but quiet enough at the time.  How many people worked alongside these buildings?  How many famous or predecessors of famous people walked up Wapping Steps off shipping in days gone by.  How many foggy London nights saw ships rocking gently in the tide?  In the 70's all this had gone, only an occasional moored barge on the far side reflected the distant past. When I wandered there in the 90's these warehouses were now expensive flats with their own 'Oddbins' wine shop at the foot in easy reach for the trendy residents.  The two up, two down, houses of the late Victorian era had not survived the council planners even if they had survived the blitz.  Modern housing, expensive at that, filled the area outside the ex-warehouses and sleek cars sped past where once growling lorries or horse and carts had pulled their loads.  

Now you folks with any sense will regard this picture as boring.  There is a reason for this, it is a boring picture!  It is one I took some 20 years ago when I first had the bike and sauntered out around the area looking at the sky, dangerous on a bike, and watching green fields with strange crops therein.  Having sent so many years in the concrete jungle this was refreshing to the eyes and the locals could not see it because it was just always there!  I could see it and enjoy it, no matter how boring such pictures appear to be.  All around that road there were fields, they must be similar today, crops pushing into the sky cheering the farmer and possibly encouraging wildlife.  I am not so sure such fields help wildlife myself though the number of fields left fallow under EU rules has meant these fields do encourage birds and bees and other creatures to thrive.  I did however here a warning that rabbits, once covering the UK have disappeared from many areas.  In Scotland some 80% of rabbits have gone, about 60% in the rest of the UK.  Why I did not hear but many birds are also failing, sparrows are less in evidence and the Swifts that must soon appear are less in  number each year.  Maybe people have taken to eating rabbits rather than use foodbanks...?

What's That in the Distance?

During the second world war (1939-1945 in case you missed it) a mistake was made.  Fear of invasion led to the erection of many 'pill boxes' around the land and those in charge of defence made one little error.  A line of 'pill boxes' and other deterrents were strung across southern England in an attempt to stop any approaching army.  When placed in charge of such defences General Alan Brooke quickly caused this to stop and followed the correct procedure, one later used by Field Marshall Edwin Rommell along the Atlantic coast, which was to make every effort to stop an invader on the beaches so they could not secure and establish a 'bridgehead.'  Therefore he turned attention away from inland and beaches everywhere were crowded by builders busily working out their profits while ladling cement onto little round boxes suitable for two or three machine gun armed men. In the distance while passing wearily home from the crowds in Chelmsford's centre I noted this lump in a field.  At first I thought it was hay bales that farmers often pile up, usually however next to farm buildings, and later realised this was one of the old 'pill box' defences.

On Friday after wandering around the churchyard I came past the field and crossed the path well worn by dog walkers toward the concrete box.  It was clearly well used by the younger generation and the original door long removed for other use and a hole large enough for my bulk to enter had been created.
I have wanted to get inside one of these for eons.  Here I was in the smelly, plastic bottle and other crap littered den, plastic not a substance that has been left by the original users.  This was a mess, the concrete worn and corrugated iron sheets peeling from the wall however it was large enough for me to stand upright and I moved into the separate compartment inside where the rubble made waking difficult and darkness made it hazardous.  

 
The field of view was interesting however and would not have been welcomed by the folks living in the houses over there.  Had an invasion occurred most of the Regular Army would have been placed down at the beachhead and places further inland such as this would have possibly been occupied by Territorials or the 'Home Guard, 'Dad's Army.  How would they feel in this dark place lit by candles or oil lamp probably when confronted by a large German force intent on blowing them up?  It would be a case of hanging on as long as possible before they finally shoved a grenade through the hole and finished you off.

This field slopes down towards the River Chelmer, a small narrow stream at this point and I suspect it often overflows in winter almost up to the 'pill boxes.'  I say 'boxes' as I had not noticed until I got near that there was another tucked away at the bottom of the slope.  Crafty indeed and if the enemy came when crops had risen and were still green this box would be completely hidden until too late. 
In spite of weariness I dragged my bulk across.

 
This smiling face was very different possibly reflecting the constantly changing demands of the War Department (WD) something else that gave the builders much to think about, possibly however they thought more about the great time lag before they actually received any money from the WD!
This was cosier, the wall inside, the door has long gone possibly to use as firewood, and this one is almost untouched.  Behind the blast wall visible inside the door there is nothing but five wee windows opening out over the field and over the river behind.  An excellent position but suicide for anyone occupying this if under fire.  This too was tall enough to stand upright in, little litter was found and looks to me as being almost perfect.

This one does give excellent cover for his mate in the first box and with the 'Home Guard' being trained in their use could it be they fired some sort of projectile by accident into their pals box?  Just asking!  That brings to mind the 'Dad's Army' on the island in the Firth of Forth.  Their job was to fire at enemy aircraft heading towards Rosyth Naval Base and Glasgow further on as well as defend Edinburgh.  However some of the shells were large ones and practice consisted of firing dummy shells out to sea.  On one occasions our heroes managed to fire a large dummy shell into a house in Leith causing considerable damage and irritation.  The residents comments have not been recorded.

From the Firth of Forth to the Chelmer!  A pretty little river here but this area has not been built on and I suspect this is because of midwinter flooding.  Good, this is a pleasant area for those walking dogs or just wanting to commune with creation and I hope this remains like this for some time.

An abundance of this was found by the path as I made my way for the bus, driven by a friendly driver.  Is this 'elderberry' I wonder, as you know I'm not good at plant names.  This type of thing flourishes at this time and the councils have learnt to let it stay until some moaning minnie  grumbles about what it is doing to their coats as they pass.  The beasties must love it and so do I.  Not that I actually eat it you understand.

I noticed this house as I waited for the bus.  The design is typical of Essex.  Small semi detached workers cottages once lived in by farmers labourers and the like.  I note this one has been extended at both ends adding a door one the near end and similar at the other but there an extension, possibly a kitchen has grown on also.  Many similar are found in the area but I wonder if the occupants can put aside the Satellite TV for a while to plant potatoes and cut the grass in the garden? 

Another Day Out

The crops are beginning to show through now, as this pic taken from the speeding train shows.  The sweep of the fields always catch my eye, although it does not make for the greatest picture, especially when the sky is gray.  I listened to the messages Richard Branson and his MI6 friends give us secretly as we sped along, but mostly my attention was taken by the smartly dressed young lass who journeyed one stop only and the smell of disinfectant that came from an Asian man suffering a cold.  With my luck I suspect I will be a Man Flu disaster area soon.  Why do such people leave the house I ask?

The weeping willows appear to be bright intelligent trees.  If you must weep, weep into a river I say.  I did wonder about the drought at this point.  Farmers want water and here we have a full river, why not put it to use?  Rather than let it flow into the estuary use the water on the fields.  there must be a legal way of doing this?  No point in farmers, and ourselves, losing crops I say.

  

I am not keen on 'candid shots' of people, I see them as an intrusion, however I did wish a shot of this man's bike.  I would say it was somewhat overloaded myself, and the bag on the ground he had on his back!  Was he off camping?  is he one of the homeless?  Is this how he makes his living perhaps, a travel writer with an angle?  When I made my mammoth ride I had two saddlebags and as little as possible in them.  How much does he carry?  Is he a member of 3 para, stationed here, on his way home for Easter?  I found myself a little intrigued, but just looking at him and imagining the struggle up hill made me tired.  I climbed aboard the train and went home to bed.

The gratuitous train picture!  You all want to see one, admit it!  

  

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Countryside

This picture is for town dwellers.  If you live in towns and cities, not both at the same time, you will probably not realise that underneath your house/flat/slum there is a thing called 'earth.'  Outside of towns the food that appears in plastic wrappings in the supermarket comes from here. Some of the food grows by itself in the ground helped by nothing more than rain, sun and a ton or so of chemical warfare which, the government assures us, is 'healthy.'  Other items on your plate grow by eating the green stuff called grass, you may find some growing through the spaces in the wall if you look closely, and these creatures are called 'animals.'  These are divided up into sheep, cows, pigs, chickens and if they go under any other name check out it does not come from South Korea.  


When at the Open University, failing to obtain a B.A. through poverty, sloth and total ignorance, I discovered that around 1801 (in England, as English historians ignore Scotland, but I am not one to complain about such racism) the majority of the population lived in the countryside. By1851 fifty one percent lived in towns or cities and by 1901 the vast majority of people were crowded into the urban slum that was the home of the 'Greatest Empire the world has ever known.' I have come to believe that this does indeed affect our mentality.  We need to see greenery, animals, trees and nature to keep our heads clear. That is why so many of us rush to get out of towns and even the Victorians came to realise that public parks were required in built up areas.  That appreciation of the need for green space resulted in the housing estates built just before and after the war.  Many three bed-roomed houses, with gardens front and back, are to be found throughout the UK.  There are often green areas, roundabouts with grass centres, and reasonably wide streets.  However a look at housing built in the last twenty years shows that while the design of the houses are often in keeping with the area in which they are found these house are often crammed together in an effort to get as many as possible into the space, partly to supply enough houses, mostly for profit!  The green areas, gardens or open spaces, are very limited in comparison to those designed in the forties.  The sense of being hemmed in increases among those living there.  Estate agents call such areas 'popular,' and postmen will inform you that they have many 'redirections' for these houses.  Some from people who find they cannot afford the cost, some from young folks living together too soon, and others from those who realise a new house is not always a joy to live in. I used to have six or seven 'redirections' on my old house route, my friend John had so many it could take him an hour to attend to his!  People need space, a decent green area front and back, and natural daylight.  City life offers to little of this, and I know about city life!


It is only recently I realised how little contact most of us have with creation around us.  Do we realise where our food comes from really?  As kids we were well informed about this but we also had a view of the distant world, farms nearby and a good instruction from our parents, who really 'never had it so good.'  Too much manufactured foodstuffs, supermarkets that push rubbish onto us in our weak moments, and a life full of haste leaves us missing out on something I think.  We need individually to get into green areas, look at animals in their natural setting, or walk along the sea shore. Some call this a 'spiritual experience' but it is not 'spiritual' it is just our need for the open space and the natural world around us.  It is re-creative for our heads stuffed full of life.

Barley

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I walked out to the edge of town this morning and wandered slowly (I don't do fast) along gazing at the fields of Barley growing far too slowly for the farmers liking, and watched the Swifts cavort over my head. What a lovely way to spend the early morn. I suppose the Barley is headed for beer or whisky use although some goes into foodstuffs and other uses. Rabbie Burns often called whisky 'John Barleycorn,' as I am sure the literary amongst you would realise.  Barley was the first grain to be domesticated and was known around ten thousand years ago. When Jesus taught his men to pray, "Give us our daily bread," most would have considered he meant Barley Bread as this was the cheap staple of most people. Wheat Bread cost around three times as much! It is fair to say that as a staple it was worth much more than the bread so many of us eat today. Most white bread and a great deal of brown stuff bought from supermarkets is so bad for us. The requirement for shelf life has led to a manipulation of bread to make it dangerous for us to keep eating. Some doctors are beginning to believe that this is a major cause of much illness!  The bread of Jesus day would not have anything taken out, and better still nothing put in!  There are many additives in bread that the producers do not have to identify on the label. Can this be good for us?  It is time to review what we are stuffing into ourselves, and I know for a fact that this government will do nothing to hinder big business, will they?

As I walked, still chewing the breakfast toast that lingered, I looked skywards and attempted to count the host of fast moving Swifts that gamboled in the sky. At first there was twelve, or was it twenty, the brutes kept moving, left and right, up and down, swooping at high speed past my ear and racing to the far reaches of the field and returning high above. It was like untangling a ball of string, it just cannot be done!  I decided there was forty or more birds, then looked higher and found a cloud of them over the By-Pass. Maybe fifty, let's say.....no, let's move on as watching the birds I have just walked into a youthful oak tree and knocked my cap off. Who put that there at the side off the pathway? Returning the branches to where they belonged I moved on, always looking for a better picture than the one shown, amazed that these birds kept going without any break. They appeared not to contact one another, no two chased one another, they were all happily running about madly in the sky, I think just having fun! Imagine coming all the way from Central Africa to cavort in southern England? Would you?

 
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