Frost, Bishop and a touch of Toby

It was one of those ridiculous winters morning today.  The sky was blue, the sun shone, and the streets were slippery with frost.  As I walked, tripping up several times and almost going flat out once, the pavements on one side were white while the frost on the telephone wires above slowly melted, dropping great blobs on heads of the few passers-by.  Everything ached, and as I rose that morning my one thought was "I wish it was Monday."  Then I can go back to bed, but not today.

 

Today the Bishop was preaching, so I was ordered there to take pictures.  

This once confused me as he is not the Bishop of Essex, just of Colchester.  But large counties have a Bishop and as many 'sufferagent Bishops as required, Essex has three.  The sbishops, as you may have noted, are strange people, this one however, has his good points.  For a start he knows God, though he does have a tendency to the 'Stonewall' nonsense.  I was glad he did not mention this today, I may have started something.  All went well, he spoke well, many pictures were taken, all smiled.

 

I then watched as the Heart of Midlothian strolled past the poor Hibs team.  This, as you know, is not unusual.  The best part was watching Toby Sibbick run up the park near the end of the game and chip the ball past the despairing goalkeeper.  Toby Sibbick, the new striker!  Another great performance from him, though the team was not playing to well once again.  Playing not to good we have beaten Aberdeen and Hibs.  All looks good so far.

Sabbath Snow

With freezing hands, I forgot the gloves, I hobbled down the road this morning.  Last night it fell to minus 4 they say, and the place was white with frozen glory.

Normally, we would not notice just how many spiders webs are hanging about us, but today all was revealed as the dew thereon froze overnight highlighting where the beasties had trod.  The mechanical knowledge of wee creatures that are born, find a corner, and design a web so intricate that engineers today would find baffling is something to admire.

 

 

The warm hearts at the kirk were welcome but a great many remained at home, thus avoiding the walk or drive across icy highways.  Enough of us gathered however to murder six songs, some of them mercilessly, and enjoy the piano playing, I think by Les Dawson!  

 

Tonight however, to the delight of children everywhere, and to the annoyance on grown ups, snow has descended upon us.  Snow, which they say will fall until six in the morning, now blankets the area.  Traffic, such as it is, slowly passes, leaving long trails on the road and exasperating many drivers, though the one who passed just now has no worries it appears, either that or no brakes.  

The heating is on, I am fed and cosy, now to spend time praying for the many friends who have serious troubles.  Why so many at one time I wonder?  Who knows, but age has a play here.  My friend Jesus however, knows all.

 

Cold Stroll

 

Clear skies above and frozen temperatures below, an ideal  winters day.  However, for those who had to walk, drive or cycle to work across a frozen white landscape their impressions may have been unwelcoming.  

The peely-wally moon struggled to be seen in the bright morning air.  Continuing his journey unmindful of the 8 billion below he hung above slowly disappearing as the sun rose higher.  Now taken for granted by us all but in the past early man watched the moon and the stars above circling the earth.  He calculated his journey, not always understanding the difference between a star and a planet, but very early on had worked out how they rotated above us, possibly understanding that we two rotated and moved through space also.

As I was passing, I decided to take the lift to the top of the car park where the frost whitened the layout.  Few park here, most prefer downstairs, inside, and free from chilly weather.  I wanted to see how the sun lay across the houses.

A light blue haze hung across the houses blurring the distant electricity pylons, the ones that power the homes and enrich the power companies.  The heat comes not from the radiators but from opening the bill every month!  It is nice to know the men at the top of such companies will not need council benefits to heat their houses.  

Under these whitened rooftops live some 40,000 souls.  I know this for a fact, partly because of the 2021 census returns indicate this, partly because each and everyone of them was in the shop early this morning stocking up for the weekend and Christmas!  December is a time when shopping must be done the minute the stores open.  Waiting until later means meeting the 40,000 and this includes the kids at the weekend.  

The dads, usually abused by the chattering classes in the media, were out in force once again.  The trailed behind them kids of to gatherings, organised or individual, shops, parties, special events, and things which cost dad lots of money.  One was seen somewhat bewildered by one lass, about 7 years old, who was much in tears though dad did not seem to understand why.  His perplexed expression was a picture.  I winder if he ever sorted this out?

I fought through the crowd and crossed the deserted park.  The grass was beginning to show green by this time, the dogs would be pleased, and the sun was reaching the furthest portions of the grasslands, easing the frost away, though by the time I write this scribble it is already back to zero degrees around here.  It was so cold in the morning I had to open the windows to let the freezing air in to warm up the house!  I might use heating tonight...

Cold, Grave Birds

We awoke to temperatures of minus 1c this morning.  The field opposite had a white sheen of frozen dew, the condensation covered the windows, and while the heating was on the moment I opened the rear window I quickly closed it again!  Too much at 7:30 in the morning!  I wished to rise early and search one particular shop before the crowds gather.  I took the long way round and popped into the graveyard behind the old Congregational Church in the hope of some sunshine glinting on the frost.  I was in time for the birds seeking nourishment, though they insisted on flitting around quickly making it difficult to picture them.  This was the best I could manage, the Robin sitting on the end of a grave deciding whether or not to leap down to the cold grass below.  I caught him just as he leapt behind the solid grave.  This looks like one designed to keep graverobbers out.  Before medical science was better organised medical students would acquire bodies for research, often fresh from graves.  The Ghouls would strike at night, which is why some cemeteries employed guards during the dark hours, and dig up the body and sell to a 'doctor.'  Thus many graves have iron fences, brick walls, or solid brick tombs atop them.  Today, these gather ivy and moss and are welcome perches for the birds of the district.

I searched the shop, every shelf, up and down, all along, and back again.  Naturally what I wanted was not on offer.  The only other likely place was not likely either.  Aint life grand?   Instead, I bought chicken bits from the local butcher, and listened while the girl explained to another customer about the lack of turkeys this Christmas.  With 'Bird Flu' present, and an incompetent government dumping Brexit on the nation, the farming world has been suffering badly off late.  "Turkeys," she said, "Might be available, but if so they will cost an arm and a leg!"  This bothers me not, I eat any old thing at Christmas, but for women like the customer this is important, though not important enough to break the bank.  No reason for turkey at Christmas anyway, just be grateful to have something to eat, and heat on which to cook it!

Is this a Rook or a Crow?  Rooks are usually in a group, Crows individual, and the mob we have around here tend to hang around in two's and three's, so I never know if they are Rooks or Crows.  Maybe they do not know this either?  My beautiful, highly intelligent, and nature loving great niece claims it is a Crow, and she should know.  So I am going with that.  While the Robin was dancing about below, this man sat high up in the tree planted at a graveside many years ago.  He appears untroubled by the cold, well fed, and well able to look after himself.  

How about a blurry, cold, Blue Tit?  Lots of them around here.  Clearly such places, usually quiet, are ideal for wildlife.  Small though it is there are many birds, and a squirrel took off as I approached and sped up a tree into the wilderness there.  I suspect the only thing they fear, apart from one another, are the kids coming out of the church hall.  A kinder garden takes place there, and the approach of toddlers and mums would scare anyone.

 

Cold Christmas

 

 

It is a pleasure to wake at five O'clock in the morning and find the sun has begun to show its face.  It is not so good when you wake simply because you canny breathe!  The heating on all night, ice cold outside, and inside also, and the air died in the room.  When I eventually ventured through to the real world the bright sun shone wonderfully but the white frost remained on the rooftops and on the edges of the field.  It is still hanging about in the shadows, our first really cold night.  Up north they have snow, falling trees and a warning.  The warning states the weather is bad so people in the South should remain indoors while those up North ought to put on a coat!   About right!

 

It is also a pleasure to find the postman ringing the bell and knocking desparate to give me my first Christmas box!  It is a pleasure to open this box, unwrap the mountain of needful bubblewrap (well wrapped indeed as any postie was tell you) and find several bottles of liqueurs made from a variety of fruits.  I accidentally opened the Blackcurrant one now and am forced to enjoy it. 

I am not sure these will last until Christmas... 

Facebook:-  MalloryMade

However, I have packed several items for transmission onwards tomorrow.  The cards are almost ready also, and one box for my sister, full of trinkets, chox and rubbish rather than anything wonderful, and that will soon be off also.  I like to post my cards on the 1st if December, well ahead of the rush, ensuring they get there without any trouble, usually.  This also reminds folk to send me something! 

A thought that never crosses my mind usually.  

It is still November!

 

Cold TV

A wee bit chilly last night.  I forgot to put the heater on in the living room and it was a lower temperature than any so far!  Wrapped up in my duvet in the West Wing I did not notice so much.  The field was white but soon the frost evaporated as the sun rose low in the distance.  (I suppose the sun would be at a 'distance.')

I am not sure if you had noticed but apparently Prince Harry, him of the ginger hair, and his woman have fled to Canada.  Apparently they think this will give them the opportunity to live free of press scrutiny and allow them to live life their way and make cash sufficient to enable them to live according to what they have become accustomed.  He clearly has his mothers brains.
You may have missed this and I hardly noticed it myself bar the near entire page of the 'Online Mail' mentioning it several times.  Almost everybody connected to the Royal House have made their comment, although none of the actual royals have done so, ex-butlers, retired journalists, women who 'waited,' 'friends,' 'sources close to...,' and lots of nobodies who wished a chance to appear on TV or have their picture in the paper have spoken.  I missed them all.    
My ignorance of the travails comes from a choice, a choice to ignore anything other than the main headline and omit the pap that follows, this makes life easier.  There again not watching the 'Bread & Circus's' offered by TV I do miss much of what is going on in the world, however I do not appear to miss out on anything important.  One lad asked two old men on Sunday about a chap called 'The Rock.'  My mate asked if this was 'Rocky Marciano?' but the young lad had never heard of him.  It appears this is a chap from TV who we had missed.  I am not sure we regret this.  This reveals how we are educated into the world.  Kids follow what the others at school watch, much of TV is ideal for young heads, and anyone over 35 or so avoids such TV unless they have kids watching, the parents attempting to understand what is going into the brats head.  
Were we like this?
Did we become dumb watching 'The Lone Ranger,' or 'Robin Hood?'  Knowing now how little historical accuracy was employed in either programme, let alone the sight of the 'Lone Ranger' and his mate 'Tonto' walking across the prairie searching for the silver bullets he fired that missed, did not take away from us kids the enjoyment that such rubbish brought.  Young folks require historical accuracy but not it appears entirely accurate.  How many 'Cowboy' films did we watch, still available on the 'Movies for Men' channel, before we realised they were nonsense?  How often did we see our lives developing as some individual on TV?  Real life got in the way too often to stop those lives appearing.  I could never afford those sharp 1960's suits the 'Saint' wore anyway.  What we put into our kids heads influences them, just as it does us.  
Looking at what is on offer on TV today I am glad books exist!  Books, whatever sort, offer more detail, more facts and by reading both sides of an argument you can come to a conclusion not offered by watching the 'A Team' or a film from the 1940's.  Such films appear to be popular with women more than men I note while men prefer news or programmes that actually say something useful, like football!  My mum used to complain men just want to watch the news while she just wanted local news.  
Men are such a nuisance.  

Wednesday Frost

Thick fog, ice covered fields, roads and me!
Shops busier, happy checkout girls with time to chat, crowds of kids following fussed parents.
Sun arriving but slowly.
Market empty as stallholders still sleeping it off.
More kids taking parents round shops.
More gifts, even more money.
Grandparents the happiest of all.
After all they can give the kids back!
Later park full of kids showing off new things to satisfied families.
All wrapped up, many in new outfits.
Home.
Laptop.
Dead soldiers.
Boring TV.
Poor radio.
Chilly as forgot to shut window.
Yet more parsnips for tea....

Jack Frost Morning

Just before eight this morning I dashed out in an effort to picture the frost lying across the grass over the road.  This turned out harder than I thought as the park was freezing!  As I wandered down the fingers became ice and i was suddenly struck with a desire to eat hot food and lie in my bed once again.
The sky however was wonderful!
I am unable to reproduce the colours I saw, the camera and my ham-fisted operation saw to that, but I think such mornings are fabulous.  Few were about bar those hustling to work and kids yearning for the bus to take them to imprisonment in school for a day, even the dog walkers were missing, just one or two hardy folks, the rest being kept in by grumpy owners.  Maybe it was too cold for even the dogs.

On mornings such as this it is easy to see how many aircraft operate over this area.  Many headed for nearby Stansted, others crossing over to Luton or on to the north or even those 35,000 feet up where I suspect it is far colder yet they head over the Atlantic to the Americas.
The trails fill the sky mixing with the variety of cloud that soars high above, very interesting patterns they make today.  I love such morning, I just wish I had better things to picture alongside of the sky.

  
This sums up my day, a few pictures, back to bed, and little else to show for it.
Tomorrow there is the museum and even better lots of Fog!  Now this is supposed to be with us all day so that might provide a picture, if I can get out...

Jack Frost Arrives

Late last night I spent some time attempting to identify a high pitched whistle. Being late, cold and dark I wondered what sort of bird would be hanging around at that late hour.  Imagine my surprise when I realised it was no bird, it was my wheezing chest!  Therefore this morning I restarted the failing exercise regime, the last one having failed after a few days you will recall.  So bright and early, well just after eight, I was found creaking my way up the old railway heading for Rayne Station.  It is several months since I got that distance, a whole two miles, and my knees let me know about it as we reached the top of the slope.  How those old engines steamed their way up here I do not know!  The sun shone brightly, the fields were white with the first real frost of winter and the scenery was wonderful!  Smiling dogs led their well wrapped owners a merry dance as they raced about their favourite haunts.  A jogger or two passed in ridiculously loud clothing seemingly under the impression this made them either faster or more 'with it.'  In both cases they are clearly mistaken.  

   

At the station the Rangers (not that kind) who run the line (now called the 'Flitch Way) have installed an old railway coach.  It appears the plan is to use it as a museum or an enlarged tearoom, thus enabling the station itself to be a better museum.  I hope whatever they decide works for them.  This is the first time since the late 70's that rails have been seen on this line.  Oh to see a proper train, one with steam at the front and compartment coaches once again! How romantic and atmospheric a steam train can be, something the more efficient diesel and electric machines cannot match.  These may well be better in every way but in spite of this they have less romance about them.

This coach never saw a steam engine pulling it that is for sure, and it is far from the aged wooden coaches used until 1952, the date the last passenger train ran on this line.  The charabancs that abounded after the Great War, plus the vast number of ex-army lorries that came available at the time led to a drop in numbers both of people and goods.  It was only the presence of the huge sugar beet factory half way along that kept the line working and even they turned to lorries by the 70's.  Soon after it had all gone.  Our station survives and many commute to the pleasure dome that is London for a means of earning their high wages.  Most of which goes on the fares to get them to work.  I came home that way one night and feel sure the crowded train would do my head in if I used it five nights a week. One derailment, accident, jammed door, body on line and the hour and five minute journey could take a week!  Interestingly the Transport Minister is based in Chelmsford, just down the road.  He was caught out using his chauffeured car to drive him to work rather than the train.  So for a short while he was made to rise in time for the 6:00 and he was not pleased! He may well be back in the car but he has announced he will not stand at the next election, retiring to a directorship or two I suspect, probably concerning railways!    

Naturally I decided to get up on the platform, in spite of my weakened hulk having strained its way up here, and so I placed my toe in that little step used by railway men to onto the platform.  I did this, got almost up, my knees gave way and I went splat on my face.  No-one amongst the handful in the vicinity around appeared either to notice or be surprised.  The coach had been used as a money making idea Santa Claus den just before Christmas and the windows were decorated appropriately, well according to them anyway.  Nothing exciting was seen bar this angel, possibly this is the one that enabled me to get down without falling flat on my face twice!  You may well be bored of this coach by Summertime. 

Home Jeeves, down that slope, and don't spare the horses dogs.  The sun shining through the trees as I cantered homewards could well have done me damage if I were epileptic.  Bright sun then dark shadow, it was like a thousand flashbulbs one after another.  Flashbulbs?  We are not old enough to remember flashbulbs are we?  Home at a degree of speed not imagined earlier, shaking of the attentions of the dogs I rejoiced in the bright morning, always the best part of the day, and breathed fresh cold air to remove the whistling noise.  Home in my mind meant hot bath, a continuation of the sleep I disturbed when this daft idea entered my head, breakfast and a hot massage.  I still await the hot massage!  I will ache all day tomorrow, to be honest I ache now! Bah!

Jack Frost

At just before 12 noon on the 12th day of the 12th month of the 2012th year of our Lord I took this picture of our frozen landmass.  The sun was at its zenith and having had my hair cut shortly before I can tell you the suns batteries had run out!  The novelty of 12 noon on 12/12/12 did not occur to me at the time.  I was merely attempting to record the front covered country around us.

This sight as I woke explained why the air had been so cold during the night.  This sort of thing is fine up north, Inverness played Ross County where the temperature was -5 at 7:45 kick off last night, these folks expect such horrors, I don't.  However there is something fabulous about a frost bitten land when the sun shines upon it.  Another 24 hours and all this will turn to our more usual rain.  Oh joy!

Oh Spring, wherefore art thou pal? 

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Icy Saturday

The frost still lay heavy on the ground well into the morning today, although I went nowhere near it until then, and I expect it will be similar tomorrow the temperature already dropping.  The benefits this morning include few folks bringing their kids into the Gardens, although as I was searching for a picture one couple and brat began to play around in my sights so all I could capture was this grabbed shot of the freezing park with a hazy mist, caused by the ice slowly turning to mist in the sunshine.  The potential for good pics was all around but the subject was either in the wrong place or covered in people rushing to and fro as they tend to do on Saturdays.


I myself rushed home with my prize of tomatoes and mushrooms and made myself a health conscious lunch. Once more I turn to improve my diet, exercise more, and instead I spent the rest of the day in front of the PC watching or listening to the football!  You will be glad to know that thanks to the great Czech star Rudi Skacel the Heart of Midlothian thrashed the excellent St Mirren by five goals to two and brought smiles to all decent people everywhere.  Sadly Hibernian won and moved clear of Dunfermline at the bottom and the hopes of the Hibs relegation are beginning to fade.  Still there is still time for them to fall apart.


Saturday night means most folks have nothing to say so hear is some Saturday night music. I know you people of taste will enjoy this.

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