Friday Flippancy

You and I may think it is still November but the people who make money plan such things consider this the right time to start the Christmas shop!  Last night the nearby 'Outlet' shopping centre had some famous person I had never heard off switch on their Christmas lights (hooray).  Tomorrow the town lights will be switched on so the centre of town is being prepared for the event.  Several stall have appeared in the centre, I expect many more tomorrow, alongside children's funfair attractions and ten thousand people.  The museum will be open and we too have stalls and activities.  The stall shown has lots of Greek eatable's.  On the right hand side lie lots of those Mediterranean sweet cakes filled with figs, dates and other luxuries. I love them but last time he was here I spent vast amounts fattening myself up as I just ate them all one after another.  This I must avoid this year although now I mention it I begin to fantasise about them, help!!!

I will be there, eventually, attempting to dress as a Victorian!  My top hat is secured at the museum and the girls have a variety of Victorian clobber to wear.  All I have to do now is develop Ricketts and expire before I am five years of age.  With FREE entry (the manger must be having a fit) we ought to get hundreds through the door and mush of the goods on sale ought to go tomorrow.  The shop has been prepared with appropriate kids stocking fillers and much else, especially candles, candles appear to be what women wish for these days, smelly candles.  Possibly this has something to do with the smelly men they live with...?

The weather ought to be tolerable for the switch on but later the sun will arrive and spoil the fireworks which they insist on having each year.  With November the 5th just past the days leading up to and after it the area was like World War 3 at times, we need more of that tomorrow.  I will be abed by then however but the sound will crash all around.  I suspect a good time will be had by all but the Christmas Spirit is alive and well, Christmas shopping spirit that is, people walk into you rushing here and there ignoring others, bless them....

I have almost completed Christmas!  As always I missed out some people, four to be exact, just how many nieces can I have exactly?  Someone has added one or two when I was not looking.  So tomorrow before anything else I must finish that and then little has to be done.  I am convinced you are all in the same situation as I.  What?.....oh!

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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A Better Bus....

A better bus took me to Chelmsford, one of the dullest towns known to man.  The main street has been pedestrianised and today contained several stall offering the usual fruit and veg, bread, cakes and stuff.  None offered coffee funnily enough but 'Costa' cafes appeared every few minutes.  Another wasted search for that jacket, although I did find a chap with a similar search to me.  Neither of us have been satisfied by the major stores.   

Coffee was provided, for £1, at the excellent stall in the Market however.  Not as good as the Colchester chap but better than overpriced 'Costa!'  I prefer such places as this.  

The old entrance to the Essex County Buildings reflects the Edwardian elegance and pretentiousness considered so important at that time.  Around the corner the new portion of the building reflects the modern pretentious style.  I much prefer this door!  Clearly this building did not satisfy the needs of the populace, or their councillors at least as an addition was added in 1929

It is of course the panel on the right indicates Chelmsford Council however I canny find any information on the building and at the moment have too little time to search.  Quite why a rams head, if indeed it is that, sits above the letters I know not, there again there is no reason for another ram or what might be a vulture above the date 1929.  That was of course the year of the Wall Street crash so I hope the builders were paid before people started to throw themselves from 67th floor windows.  I checked the pavements round about but they were no worse than normal.

Along the old canal I wandered, strengthened by the coffee and discovered 'Boris the Spider' hard at work under the road bridge.  My knowledge of such beasties is somewhat limited, usually limited to crying "AAAARGGGH!" and running away, so I am not clear as to the real name of this one.  I have seen lots of these around here and usually have a couple on the windows living of other beasties.  You can keep this one if you like....  

I am much happier disappointing the ducks by not feeding them.  This lot were ganging up to threaten a toddler for his lunch just before I arrived.  Once he had been deprived they looked for other mugs.  I never expected to find a large pond in this area.  An excellent feature and much more interesting, when the sun shines, than the High Street and its crowded shops.  In Primark, a place I never entered before, I discovered an imitation Harris Tweed like jacket for £28.  Not far away a similar jacket, made with slightly better 'Tweed,' cost more than twice as much at a 'reduced ' price.  It crossed my mind that the same sweatshop slave earned fourpence for making both.

Running across the top of the park lies the Liverpool Street Railway.  High above on this excellent viuduct the trains run several minutes late regularly, especially at rush hour when people jump in front of them or lorry drives crash into the weaker bridges!  It was not possible to get the whole thing into a photo, it continues behind and into the distance, but the number of bricks is very impressive and a credit to the men who erected in during Victoria's reign.

As I said goodbye to the ducks that followed in a forlorn manner I headed back towards the bus station grasping my Free Bus Pass tightly in my hand.  However I was distracted by a statue in the distance that at first I thought referred to the Theatre that stands nearby.

With the light right behind the poor souls head it merely leaves him a dark silhouette but this man holding the 'lightning flash' in one hand and what looks like an old fashioned phone in the other is Guglielmo Marconi, the inventor of 'wireless.'  He in fact was not the actual inventor but he did play a serious development role and created a successful factory in the town that survived until recently.  It may still be found as part of GEC, if that has not died also.  You may recall him as the chap who sent a wireless signal across the Atlantic to Newfoundland, in spite of opposition from the men running the Telegraph system!  

Naturally I missed the bus!  As I approached I noticed the bus maneuvering about in a tight space.  Quick thinking, and a fast walk against my will, took me around the corner to the next stop which I reached, puggled, by the time the driver had made it past the traffic lights.  I was quite proud of my quick thinking.  I could tell by his snigger the driver had watched my attempt at speed and did not mistake me for that Bolt fellow.

I snatched this picture of the 'St Annes Castle' as we sped along because I noticed the sign on the other wall claiming that this was 'The Oldest Inn in England,' with a date that I think may have been possibly 1171.  I began to wonder how many other 'Oldest' Inns there may be, there is always a pub claiming to be the 'Smallest,' and how many can claim 'Elizabeth Ist Stayed Here!' Claims such as these have limited evidence but one of the must be right.  Inns such as this, on a road probably going back long before Roman times, must have carried many travellers requiring sustenance, so it is possible it was around a thousand years ago.  Here is the pubs own information regarding its age.   The place is mentioned in the Domesday Book, which you will recall, though not from personal experience, was written in 1086.  I may go down there to check it out one day myself....          

                                       

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Sunny Saturday

First thing most Saturdays I am round here attempting to find fruit and veg that will keep my slim lithe fifteen and a half stone.  I have been attempting to lose weight, especially when it touched 16 stone again recently and have decided a more disciplined routine is required.  This means less home made oatcakes, flapjacks and shortbread.  The trouble with such goodies is the tendency to be fattening, especially as I tend to eat them all, quickly!  So once again I was at the markets best fruit and veg stall seeking the weeks supply.  Bananas, apples, small orange things, and so on.  Naturally, as I settled down to watch the football on BBC Alba I was stuffing my face with chips!  

Well I was hungry......

Wandering about in the early morning sunshine, the wind still from Siberia, I photographed some buildings for the house project.  Amongst Grade II listed buildings we find this telephone box.  Designed by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott in 1935 and produced by a variety of manufacturers, these are fast disappearing from our streets.  The use of mobile phones, plus the majority of homes possessing land lines, such boxes are falling out of use and into disrepair.  Many have gone altogether but surely there is a need for a few to remain?  This is a very thin picture because the box now sits in the midst of scaffolding as the 'Swan' pub is repainted. Otherwise it would stand out from the pub which may  have stood here for seven hundred years.  

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One Dreich Morn

While Australians sit on the beach grumbling about the 40% of heat I wandered across the damp park looking for a chink in the gray clouds above.  They fight fires in Tasmania which destroy homes and lifestyles, around here we light fires in the streets just to keep warm!  It's no fair so it is!  I was inspired this morning to sit here after what passes for breakfast and watch the folks outside cough their way to market.  By lunchtime the dank atmosphere has lightened to allowed me out for the cheap veg.  "Happy New Year," greetings came from the veg stall, desperate to keep their loyal customers.  (The other stall has many more for no good reason)  It made no difference to me, I am still using up the left overs in the fridge!

Glory be!  The afternoon saw the sun appear and left us with this lovely dusk view, Once I chopped of the view of the back streets at the bottom of the picture.  It is always a good piece of advice to ;look up' rather than around you.  The place you stand may be a dump but the sky almost always looks good, unless the clouds are gray of course!  Tonight the sky was fab, and hopefully it will stay this way, well, not when dark I mean.

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Christmas Market

I discovered this afternoon a Christmas Market was under way.  This has occurred a few times in recent years and stalls from France and elsewhere usually predominate.  Clothes, hats, trivia, and far too many fast food (healthy well made foods) on show.  For some the stalls offer gifts for Xmas, for me they appear overpriced.  They must make money however as many appear to have been here before.  The simple idea of blocking the High Street, only buses use this in theory, allows folks to parade back and forwards.  Sadly a stall at the far end has a stand for some sort of performance so I expect loud, bad, music to be heard tomorrow afternoon.  I looked at the bread stalls (£2:70 - £4:00 a loaf!!!) and fancied some of those on offer but managed to restrain my hunger.  A good selection but prices that those who call themselves poor appear able to pay!

In the shopping centre itself the British Legion stand, with resplendent lorry on show, brought the remembrance services on Sunday to peoples mind.  Since the 1920's the Poppy has been the UK symbol of remembrance and the Legion makes millions for sale throughout the land to raise money to aid ex-servicemen.  It always get a huge response.  This year Armistice day, the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, falls on the Sunday itself.  Throughout the country people will gather at local memorials to remember the fallen.

Remembrance Day    Royal British Legion   Poppy Scotland    

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