Friday Frippary

 

 

A day of nothingness.

Nothing in the news bar finger pointing by ex-MP Paterson's friends and enemies.  Tory MPs indicating their displeasure at his situation and what it has done to them and their 'integrity!'   Boris, as expected, hiding in a fridge while his Chief Whip takes the blame for his mistakes.  Madame Leasom has not commented as far as I know.  The 'Daily Mail' made clear their opinion and roasted him this morning, Geordie the editor does not like Boris, even though the owners wife does.  Maybe she has changed her mind, Geordie has not.

The 'Sun,' which still exists, avoided the issue.  The Commission still has questions over his wallpaper and holidays which Boris is refusing to answer.  Hopefully a 30 day ban might occur for him and then we shall see something!

 

I spent the day on the laptop.  Emails, from me begging for money, sending the gas meter reading, and searching for ages on how to log in when the password and name does not work so I could renew the WFA.  Tonight, after watching Scotland humbled by a poor Indian side at cricket, it all went through by chance, how did that happen?  I still do not know.  A pension provider, £10 a month, keeps sending online payslips, I am unable to find the log in details or the paperwork detailing these.  This meant clearing out the 'imortant paper' file.  That has half filled the recycled box but did not produce the letter.  I used to be very careful with these things, but times appear to have changed.

 

 

November 5th, fireworks have exploded at strange hours occasionally this week, and they are banging away as we speak.  Being Friday there may be more later, however, tomorrow might be the time for a blow out altogether.  Possibly Covid and common sense might lessen the effect tnight and tomorrow.

I am beginning to think only organised displays, by various groups, ought to be allowed, thus lessening the noise, diminishing danger from bonfires, and making it safer for all.  And remember, after November 5th it is all out Christmas on TV, Radio, media and your purse!

 

Sabbath Tale.

The Last 100 Days Battle is continuing tonight.  In the distance explosions abound and more will follow later I suspect.  There were plenty of fireworks last night and I suspect a few tomorrow also the weather will be mild and fire crews overworked.  It does enhance the remembrance events however, one thing never absent during the war was noise.  Noise from big guns and the rushing of shells overhead, noise from explosions, machine guns rattle and rifle patter adding to the screams and yells form men all around.  The silence after eleven on the day war ended surprised many. 
Having a baptism at church this morning gave us an idea of warfare in a different manner, hundreds of children appeared, at least there may not have been hundreds but it sure felt like it.  Screams and shouts, yells and laughter, lots of laughter, and fun all around.  This would never have happened in the church I went to as a child!

Amazon

How churches once were is found deep into this H.V.Morton book.  Morton travelled around Scotland (possibly during 1927/8 as the book is published 1929) and at one point high in the highlands he comes across a Scottish Sabbath!  This he found was a strange place for a Londoner.  He foolishly walked across the street expecting the chemist to sell him goods even though the village was shut up.  Through a slightly opened door the chemist refused as it was not life or death.  Later he saw the man dressed in black frock coat, black hat, black gloves carrying a black bible heading solemnly towards the Kirk, as indeed did everyone else, all similarly dressed.  I suspect there was no music, just a prompt from the front as they sung through the psalms, solemnly.  This reminded me of a tale of a young man being taken dressed in a kilt, his father was an army officer, towards an Edinburgh church.  The town was quiet, little if any traffic in 1914, and as they passed they greeted those heading to similar churches as themselves which studiously ignoring those heading elsewhere. Ah the delight of the religion of 'agape!'  To be honest it is only in the last fifty years such walls have come down and churches, as here in this town, work together much more.  The baptism shows a clear divide between the regular attenders at this place and those who rarely touch churches, the visitors come dressed neatly for church, the regulars have a 'come as you are approach' and this is not always neatly dressed!  Still, the ten pence pieces dropped in the bag as it passes by always helps.  
Morton tends to be a bit dramatic in his writing.  The tales were put into the newspaper he worked for and worked up into a book and he had both audiences in mind as he wrote.  Hence we see him finding tales from long ago in the borders, ghosts and weird happenings that probably never happened mixed in with historical accuracy.  At each stop he finds a story from the past, often intriguing, all to often a bit romantic, but well worth a read.  In Edinburgh, Glasgow, Skye and Aberdeen he roves around revealing something of the country in the period after the war, a war in which he participated and as such recognises old soldiers and the power of the new war memorials that abound by his time.  Not long after this of course the great depression settled in bringing with it another war.  The book is an interesting insight into the period, the accents, very strong then, and attitudes of the time.  It would be hard to enjoy a quiet walk in Skye these days when thousands of tourists clad in brightly coloured expensive anoraks fill the hills and ruin the experience they seek.

The Battle of Arras is continuing to the north, the Somme to the East and I am told Passchendale erupt at eight round the rugby club.  I may take to bed soon...

Friday Frippary

I finally got fed up awaiting Hermes collecting the returned goods and took myself off down the road for the long walk to the sub post office where I knew I would get a smile from the lassie there.
Naturally she was not there and I was faced with an overworked individual who I do not know, the regular couple were off it appears, who took the package anyway.  They have a small post office section used for after hours mail, good idea.   I informed the sender who did not care as they probably had the goods written off by now and being Friday were looking at the clock.  I care not, it has gone and I am happy to be rid of it.

The third world war war heard beginning outside tonight, Monday is fireworks night so people have been practising at great expense for days, tonight an artillery barrage occurred not far to the north east, I expect even more tomorrow.  I ought to be reading about the war when these things go off, it gives a decent backing noise but without the screams of course.  I am glad I don't have a pet at times like this.

   
Having spent an enjoyable evening listening to loud 'Canned Heat' and 'Joe Cocker' music, there is no football tonight which is a disgrace, I am no easing my ears with Gesualdo.  Very nice it is too.

I hope you enjoy it also.

Tuesday Twaddle

Tonight I will sit in the dark.
I spent the whole day doing almost nothing at the museum.  Hardly a soul came in and when they did I was busy at my laptop and they interrupted me.   Tsk!  Now I am exhausted.  Innit always the way?
Nothing happened, all day!  Now my brain is dead and off little use to me.  Not much change.

I so wish I had taken this photo!  It does not matter if it is a set up or not it is a marvellous slant on so many things.  The cat looks somewhat bewildered to me, possibly wondering what he was there for, but being a cat I am sure he will do it anyway.  If he cannot do it he will just eat whatever is lying around and go to sleep.

On days like this, gray, dreich, depressing, when the sky never clears and the sun remains hidden I just want to be by the coast far from it all.  I want clear air, sea, sky and few people around as I wander about.  
There is something about the sea that speaks of freedom, possibly because you can jump on a boat and sail away, whereas being in the country, though enjoyable, means it goes on for ever and often does not get you away from whatever is around you.  
Not that I recommend travel by small boat around the world, or indeed large liner, the sea is its won master and those waves get very large in some areas and storms can continue for days.  In those conditions being on land is superiour.  The only thing I miss about this area is the absence of sea.  I must travel a distance to find it and then travel all the way back when I have put it away for the night.  One day I will be rich enough to own a home there.  One day I will be rich?  Those tablets are wearing off!

The noise of an explosion outside reminds me that November 5th is the time we fill the world with fireworks, bonfires and visits to the accident & emergency services.  While a good fireworks demonstration is appealing I find the needless desire to fill every night of the week with the noise a bit of a pain.  I do realise that many animals also get terrified when such noise erupts, cats & dogs wonder what is going on with little enjoyment from the sight of the things high above.  I'm not one for banning them but restricting their use would be worth considering.  There is a man nearby who considers any event an excuse to set of fireworks, birthdays, weddings, having a cup of tea, it all brings out a few bangs in the sky.  I say control yourself man!

Fireworks Saturday

Because of a failed attempt to kill a King several hundred years ago people today still make bonfires and set of fireworks to celebrate.  Most of them cannot tell which King this was )Google it!) but they do know a guy called Guy Fawkes was involved.  As they stand around in the rain on a Saturday night while they attempt to roast potatoes in the fire that keeps going out, could someone justify the noise levels that are keeping me awake?  The houses behind me are sending up sufficient gunpowder to bring down half of Bomber Command, the houses in front and to the right have worn themselves out by seven O'clock sending rockets high above.  In the far distance the battle of the Somme occurs amongst the lower orders, however that may just be because it is Saturday night.  All this while yet another 'storm,' is beginning to blow.  While cats and dogs everywhere run for cover and I long to join them I ask, do I ever complain?  Well not normally, so it must be them being a pest right enough! Ban them!

While dodging the Friday night fireworks I discovered my old albums are beginning to fall apart through damp and age.  During the rescue attempt I found some long lost pictures that might be of interest.  This one features an early post box.  You will note the original colour was green, changed to red because these were indistinguishable from the greenery around, or so the 'Daily Mail' reader of the day claimed.  These were first used in the Channel Islands for some reason and when found to be a success placed all over the nation. Anthony Trollope, the writer, was an employee of the Royal mail, writing much of his output on the train between Ireland, where he was based, and London. Some say these were his idea.  This was a somewhat dark picture so I had to fiddle with it a bit, hence the grainy appearance.  I cannot mind where I found it but I think it may have been at a heritage railway somewhere.  

Bournemouth somewhere I think.  Not a great picture but the wave patterns attracted my little mind.  How I wish I was by the sea!  It's not Black & White, it is just the way I 'improved' the tones.

This indeed is in B&W, found in 'Postman's Park,' London, the long wall erected in the 19th century by a man who wanted to commemorate those who died while attempting to save others. Some succeeded, some failed.  All lost their lives.  Men and women, young and old, policemen, firemen, passersby, all gave themselves to save another.  One of London's most poignant and most forgotten memorials.  

I suspect this area is very different today from when I took this view of Kings Cross.  The gas holders may well have been removed or destroyed, they have the same troubles with the ones in Edinburgh, and the road from whence this picture was taken has certainly been rebuilt.  The dereliction will have gone, but probably not the derelicts that exist in the area.  The St Pancras complex, the new buildings, the renovation of the housing opposite, most likely for sale at high price, makes this image historical.  

You may tell that my mind is dead this evening, in spite of the bombardment overhead.  Rising early I deposited myself in the museum this morning because whatsername was not in.  naturally she turned up anyway!  Women!  A quiet morn with the exception of an eight year old who placed himself behind the alcove as I made my way to the kitchen.  He kindly yelled 'Boo!' just as I rounded the corner and almost sent the cups i carried across the entire complex!  How he laughed!  I wondered if I could get the stone age axe out the display unit without breaking the glass but he got away in time.

My dear niece, who decided to take a stroke, appears to be well.  She remains in hospital awaiting Monday morning test results and another telling off from the doctor for misbehaving.  It appears she is walking and talking as normal, and that the physio has been ensuring she exercises (HA! That's good for her!) her limbs appropriately to ensure no loss occurs.  Her grumbling and complaining have returned, so all appears to be well.  I suppose I will have to get her a Christmas present after all.....

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