Election ZZzzzz...

I have been looking around but failed to find any photographs of Boris 'Dead in a ditch.'  Once again his promises have failed us.  This I must say is a disappointment.  Now I am not the kind who wish to see politicans 'dead in ditches' but he did promise, just as he is promising vast financial input into the NHS, education, police, prisons and everything else, I did think that as he did so he could at least keep one promise, the 'ditch' one, and show how trustworthy he is.  He has failed to do this and I am somewhat disappointed.
There has been the usual weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth as several women MPs have decided to stand down.  The fact that many more male MPs are 'leaving is of course ignored as this does not sell the grubby papers.  Amber Rudd, in spite of her Tory credentials could have been a successful minister but did not appreciate having Boris as boss, that reveals her intellect.  On the other hand, muttering about the difficulties of the job, pressure and abuse Nicky Morgan has also stepped down, this less from abuse one feels than from the fact her career has reached an end and off she will go using her name to line her pockets at some Bank, financial institution or business somewhere.  Not much of a politician but knows where the money lies.
The Bigger 'Beast' among those leaving, either by choice or Party opposition will appear regularly on TV and radio, enjoying retirement while keeping their opinions well to the fore as whoever ends up in charge hears their mistakes and lies being analysed.  Ken Clarke will lead these, although the Lords is where he will end up, Hammond and others may well join him there.

Tomorrow people will be wondering why on earth they spent so much money on halloween.  Most have no idea where it started nor why, most see it as a kids party, few comprehend the waste of time and money involved yet this commercial event brings in the cash.  One absurd night a year costing how much?  Consider the time spent in shops stocking the tacky items on sale, the time putting them out, then hiding them the next day.  Consider mums forced to shell out for plastic tat by kids who tomorrow will mutter about plastic pollution! What a waste of time.  
Of course we went in for it as kids...

Grumbling a Wee Bit

Nothing exciting happening these days.  The halloween wagon is well under way.  Shops full of rubbish  that lasts for one night and few people understand the occasion and fewer still the reality of spirits.  We turn this into a kids playground opening their minds to the occult and its many dangers.  Much better what we had as kids,a party ducking for apples in basins of water and trying to eat treacle tarts hanging from the ceiling with hands tied behind our backs.  I canny mind the other activities.  Sad to see so many churches fail to understand the problem also.

The Poppy parade is however well under way.  People today comprehend the need and are willing to pay and wear poppies.  One or two things do annoy however.  One is the demand that everyone wears them.  The whole point of fighting for freedom is to ensure people can decide for themselves whether to wear them or not.  TV companies are bad at this as those who appear MUST be seen to wear a poppy in case the TV company gets a bad name, that is not right!  
Another point that annoys is the remembrance being turned into an event.  Instead of remembering people are wearing fancy poppies that cost money, TV channels offer elaborate poppies for women to show off and some events are less for remembrance than for get togethers. This is fine for ex-servicemen meeting up but for too many the real reason is forgotten.
From what I have seen of the Legion members these days few participated in the Second World War but many were in Korea, the forgotten war, Malaya fighting Communist insurgents, and those 'end of empire' conflicts when nations became independent, sometimes peaceably.  It is forgotten that British troops were in action somewhere in the world in every year since 1945 except 1958.  There was always some problem somewhere.  Today many ex-servicemen were involved in another forgotten conflict, one that most people today do not wish to remember - the Irish situation.  Many were shot in the back, blown up and maltreated while attempting to separate at preserve a divided nation that did not wish, and some say still does not wish, to keep the peace.  I sometimes feel we should be considering local memorials to those men who fell after 1945 and ensuring their names are not forgotten by being blended in with the armistice remembrance.

What do you mean I'm a grump?  Try these then if you wish....

I understand some of you find an advert on the page blocking things.  I do not see this as I use AdBlockPlus and the ads don't show here.  I will look into it and see what I can do.....

The View From My Desk....

The view from here is somewhat limited even yet.  The Lurgi hangs around leaving a fog on the mind as well as a cloud in the chest.  The result leaves me sitting indoors as the idea of trudging around in the late sunshine does not appeal, the camera is somewhat disappointed with this. Three times I have found the camera looking mournfully out the window desperate to eye up the world.  I know how it feels.  Instead my dim mind suffers the papers lack of intellect, the older radio programmes that I have searched out, and finishing off the books that litter the place. Quite how several can be sitting half read and forgotten always amazes me, especially as I cannot remember beginning the things in the first place.  Too often I put the book down and take months to get back to it, even if it is a good one.

So like the camera I sit here moping, my eyes scanning the scudding clouds crossing the late September blue sky, only to discover today is October!  Who stole the time?  Only the other day I watched the trees budding and small green leaves appearing.  Has someone fiddled time somewhere?  Anyway the trees opposite have already began the shedding of rusted leaves, one while offering a dazzling display of bright red berries for the birds delight.  The season of 'Mists and mellow fruitfulness,' sounds romantic but ignores the chill blended in the wind, a hearkening of approaching winter.  Those who venture out reflect the dubious nature of the seasons.  Young men wander abroad in tee shirts emblazoned with 'witty' phrases, multi-coloured shorts, reaching beyond the knees, all the while carrying water bottle to make them look 'cool.'  More 'mature' people wear a jacket as they have been caught out by British weather far too often for their liking.  Surely the brown edged leaves lying across the pavements indicate to some that summer is over?  A bright sun does not indicate warmth, just ask any passing Eskimo.  The dark misty mornings keep the Blackbirds asleep till well after five these days.  A silence broods over the land early in the dark morning, enhanced by the council switching the street lights off to save money. (They have not cut the leading men's salaries however.  The silence is broken only by a raucous coughing, from me, which I think gave the birds their wake up call.  Soon they were all off, barking out (Can birds bark?) their warning to other birds and claiming their patch, a claim that will be heartily defended as the cold weather leaves feathers ruffled in the search for nourishment.
As I write the light begins to fade, indoors darkens sufficiently to demand a light is used, the sky loses its brightness while trying to decide whether it will end with a pink glow or a damp squib. Once more we enter the long nights which herald the commercial escapades of Halloween and Christmas after that.  Once again catalogues begin to fall through the door, their bargains thumping onto the floor and lying their unwanted.  The world is once again forgetting why they exist and follows the crowds into Argos, Tesco and local shopping malls.  Our reason to exist is lost among the urgency to obtain, to satisfy others or ourselves, to forget real life.  Unless of course the reader is a 'benefits scrounger,' (@'Daily Mail') and has nothing to spend on fripperies yet again, not that the 'Daily Mail' reader will accept that.

The reader may by this time have noticed I ramble, I blame the cough mixture, the whisky, the tired mind, the Lurgi!  In truth, it is just me, nothing else, ho hum.......    

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