Morning Blues Eased

Monday morning blues ought not to bother someone who is not going out.  However my bleary eyes did not relish the chill in the air nor the requirement to leave my bed at 7:15.  The sight of the pink clouds in the distant did help however.  Deep pink reflecting of the long streaks of cloud, or was it something left by aircraft heading into Stansted?  Either way when I got the camera to the window it had all gone and instead this long, very long cloud reflected a more usual morning sight.  The denser lower atmosphere, so my book tells me, tends to disrupt the 'Blue' wavelength of sunlight leaving lower clouds tinged with pink, higher clouds in less dense air show up white as the light is not broken up.  Whether this means 'Red sky in morning shepherds warning' still rings true we will no doubt discover soon. 

Apart from requiring heating on all night the weather in the morning is bright.  Saturday saw the sun creep just high enough to burn the rooftops of the houses, I hope they did not catch fire.  During 1962/63 we had a terrible deep winter, no 'global warming' then and I recall the pain in my eyes as I stepped out of doors while in school and wandered into the snow filled landscape.  The low sun bouncing of the snow hurt eyes badly.  I am quite glad that is not happening now.  It is bad enough trying to see when the sun is directly in your eyes as it is. 

BBC

One thing we know about Boris is the lies and grandiose statements that fly from his ever moving and never honest lips.  The latest is the Troll idea of moving the House of Lords 'up north' so it can 'Connect with people.'  This of course has filled acres of space in the press already, meaning no space is left for discussion of the 'Russian influence' dodgy dossier that Boris has withheld.  Possibly there is a connection?  Boris likes absurd ideas, a bridge between Scotland and Northern Ireland for instance, and any other item that will appeal to the sheep while avoiding answering questions that matter, not that anyone in opposition is asking such questions.  We will find the media dominated by such absurd stories in the next few years as Boris and his friends are found out.  The Billions he has offered for Police, NHS, Education and everyone else, with tax reductions, does not make sense until you remember he is a liar who never keeps a promise, just ask any of his women.  I now await expectantly his government, and himself collapsing internally.  This may take time, the sheep will be slow to accept, but collapse it will and then hopefully justice.  It may be too late for the nation by then of course.

Morning, Noon and Night.

For the first time this week I rose without the heavy sleep hanging over me, a touch off that bug that has been going around here.  So just after seven a.m. I  trudged in the freezing weather up to Sainsburys.  It was colder than I anticipated, some frost lay in places in the park, and I was unable to open my eyes properly but that means nothing at that time in the morning.
High above the warning red sky offered a day of terrible weather even if the BBC site claims it will be chilly but none too bad around here.  Rarely does the red sky warning fail, somewhere today someone will feel the weather hurt them badly and I therefore must lay plans to stay in all day, once I have popped into the museum to pass on some info for one of the volunteers there.  I expect grumbling re the cold to be heard all around, but not from me as I never complain....

Wandering round to the museum just after ten with the weather colder than it was at seven I went to drop off the material for Keith.  He was busily involved in researching Braintree history back into the distant past.  What will come from this I know not but it looks good.  Judging by the size of he work he has done I am glad he is doing this and not me.
I am much happier than he, he is meeting with others to discuss that work, while I am watching the Scottish Cup on the BBC.  Much better than making my head spin with staring at long lines of aged information written in small and often undiscernible letters. 

My busy day is over, two football matches and reading my book has worn me out.  I had little time to spend arguing with Brexit lovers today, they must miss me?  Mind you Brexit has been pushed back by Prince Philip proving his manhood by crashing cars and then returning to the wheel without using a seat belt.  Vast acres after the accident spoke of his 'bravery' but almost none mentioned the people he crashed into.  They were of no importance I suppose.  I wonder who pays for the cars he crashes...?

Freezing Early Saturday

Long before i was awake this morning I trudged out towards Sainsburys.  Yesterday I went round the shops for the things I forgot, this morning I went back for the other things I forgot.  I really must get used to writing these things down.  Of course of I write them down I forget the list! 
The sun had yet to rise, that came at just on eight this morning, and the gray sky did not ease the cold wind blowing from the south east, neither did it offer much light.  The lack of light made the lit up shop windows appear cheery,the main one in sight cheers many people I think.  This shop has been here for some time now, not that I ever notice anyone going in or out, and on the occasions when the proprietor is noticed standing outside, cigarette in hand, I become aware that she has not had much use for what is on offer for a while, since round about 1958 I guess!  Online sales must be good!  Actually they are not, I have just found the website and it is 'under reconstruction' and nothing is available.  Hmmm... just who is sneaking in I wonder.  Maybe if I set up a camera opposite...

Coming out of Tesco with the remembered forgotten items I grabbed a shot of one of the two fruit stalls in the market.  It was the bright lights cheerfully failing to detract from the icy wind while the staff grabbed as much cash as possible from the customers.  I prefer the other stall myself. 
I have remained glued to the laptop since attempting to avoid the ironing that remains and keep warm.  I must give in and do something now. 

OK, hours later and I failed to do anything but eat and no watch football while also 'discussing' Brexit with brexiteers.  When I said they had no argument to put forward one immediately replied 'We don't need to as we voted for it.'  Hmmm...

Sullen Sabbath

I awoke, eyes straining to open, to note the clock claiming it was twenty past eight. This irritated me as my head was still at fifteen minutes past four.  Sitting on the edge of the bed I pulled back the aged curtains and stared into the world.  Rusty leaves carpeted the ground under the once blossoming trees, the sky above appeared blue in between passing clouds themselves lit by rare occasional glimpses of sunshine, occasional dog walkers followed their pets commands in the distance.
Tesco 'Cheerios' with currants and rolled oats for breakfast.  Adding strong honey for energy I soon found myself flopping into my seat while my mind slowly decayed.  The energy bit had failed and what slack mind I possessed on waking quickly dissipated.  Another day of joy had begun.
I soon fell into arguing with a TV pundit on Twitter and thus losing what feel good factor I had on awakening, if that could be called 'feel good.'  Typical of him, he thought that as he was a full time professional footballer for many years and an experienced coach that he knew more than I do!  Typical of such people!  This radge however interfered with my morning biblical study as I kept seeking answers to him here and not from him above here.  As I was remaining indoors to avoid church this morning as the heretic was speaking and I did not wish to disturb him.  Maybe it would have been better to argue with the heretic?  That would have been interesting.
Having checked all my empty email accounts, not counting the spam sent in French, a wonderful idea for those that do not understand it, and browsed the papers as I sought something to stimulate me by checking the TV schedules.  As always dead TV rules and while the brain dead enjoy such banality I wanted more.  The News channels, when I eventually got round to checking, offered Theresa May impersonating a prime minister and lying in her teeth about the Brexit agreement.  This was making eating my lentil based soup difficult at lunchtime and I could not put up with this for long.  Politics can be interesting and important, Brexit however has changed things for ever.  I am at a loss to understand if Theresa is attempting to stop Brexit as she knows it will fail or just floundering in an attempt to keep her job.  No normal answers appear relevant it is all a mess.  Naturally there is no decent football is available on BTS so I will have to wait for German or French games arriving later.  Good job I am not one to complain...

I managed to pick up some of May's comments tonight and have to say such bare faced lying has not been seen since Lloyd George denied knowing your mother, or grandmother as the case may be. Lies about how much money we save?  Lies about the economic growth, lies about everything, just lies and more lies.  Pandering to the far right, paid for by unknown multi millionaires as well as that nice Mr Putin we find ourselves almost out the door hoping the judges in the Brexit case in court will declare it illegal as foreign money has paid for it.  The chances of enough MPs voting against it are rare, sheep don't think.  I will start stocking up on corned beef in the morning...

Morning Trip...

Just after six this morning the brain damaged head of mind got me out on my bike to see if it and I still worked.  In bright sun and with only an occasional dog walker or early morn jogger to pass I slogged along further than my knees would like.   For twenty minutes I enjoyed running around the quiet town and arrived home in fine fettle, except that when leaving the bike I could hardly walk!
However I forced myself to trundle about the park to loosen my pins again.  
Since then I have done nothing but stare at the laptop, eat, watch or listen to football and wonder why so may people go out in the sun on a Saturday.  It's an easy life today, but a lot of creaking going on.

 
The other day there was an item re the couple who won £57 million on the Lottery.  They were pictured in the paper shaking champagne bottles and talking of how they almost lost the ticket.  I was not impressed.  Winning the Lottery is a good thing and after I read this I found it hard not to dwell on what I would do with the cash one seaside home coming up I think, but on the other hand I would not be allowing them publicity revealing my name and how much I had won.
It appears that if you win and accept publicity the Lottery people give advice on making the most of then money, no publicity no advice.  I think it may be possible to find such advice my myself in reality. The publicity might be seen as a safe bet when suddenly confronted by such a large amount yet on the other hand you are now known to be rich and the media, evil, selfish and abusers of the rich, will follow you daily seeking bad stories to reveal to the voyeuristic readership.  Whatever hard luck you endure will be front page news, especially on slow news days, and those that know will wish for a handout from the media for tales of past misdeeds.  Of course I have always been nice, so this is not a problem for me but you never know what may arise once your name as a very wealthy Lottery winner is known.  Good job I trust Jesus and do not buy these things, yet if I could just have that house...

  

Cogitation on Silence and Noise

Late Sunday night and the world feels different.  It does not take long to recognise the reason, it is the resounding silence.  There is no football hullabaloo in front of me, no cars passing by outside, no young girls screaming in the park, no young males impressing them with their noise, there is school tomorrow and all that homework still to do.  There is even an absence of aircraft overhead, no quiet voices of passers-by, no footsteps.  All is still.  

Silence, something we are no longer used to.  Something I notice only when I have no radio or TV blaring, no football in front of me, no music, no sound.  All this silence appears a strange experience to me now.

Once, before the motor car and the radio it was always like this.  Small market towns had their own daily sounds, loud voices were not uncommon then as now especially when the pubs emptied but there were few if any motor vehicles with polluting engines, pollution was the responsibility of factories and they were closed on Sunday nights.  No workmen's carts would trot slowly by however the local gentry might pass in their Brougham on their way home from a free dinner.  On the edge of town animals in the fields might be heard, nocturnal creatures on the hunt, an owl or a few bats and in the country there are always noises nobody comprehends and does not wish to investigate. 

How quiet life could be before the motor car and electronic devices.

Perhaps we avoid life by hiding behind such electronically produced sound and thus fend off the need to think and face the reality of our lives.  Bread and circuses for the many in the modern day.

   

After eight in the morning the contrast is clear.  Already the barking of happy dogs with wagging tails with torpor filled owners following has been heard.  The bread van snarls it pollution spreading diesel 7:5 tonner up to Sainsburys, cars driven by Monday morning blues ridden owners head for work in shop or factory, and soon dragging schoolbags behind them the future of the nation appear slowly making their way to the school Stalag.  By nine the streets are busy, shoppers appear and the sun decides to shine when most folks are in work, isn't that always the way.  On Radio 3 a soprano warbles uninvited and behind me the kettle boils noisily for third, or is it fourth time drowned out by passing white vans rushing into their busy day.  All we need is the police round the corner or the ambulance from up the road to announce their arrival by blare their siren and the day will be complete.

Maybe I ought to go back to bed...?

Going back to bed was a good idea, I heartily recommend it.  In fact I recommend it so much I may return there once I have eaten something for lunch.  

Lunchtime certainly is not quiet.  Next door the builders hammer and bang, lorries back up across the street, cars waiting for builders lorries to move allow me the pleasure of their poor taste in music while they wait, and on top of this I have been back in the BBC iplayer.  This gave me five Radio 3 Essays on the Great War by Sir Hew Strachan a historian of repute.  (Do you ever hear of a historian being called anything else?  They are never referred to as 'dodgy' are they?)  This series is about 'The Long Road to Peace' and well worth a listen.  These fifteen minute programmes suit me as if they get wearisome you can dump them soon enough, I listened to all five.

The noise levels grew also as the street life became busier and the world went about its busy business.  I added to the cacophony by setting aside a few minutes to listen to AC/DC offer us one or two of their melodies, well if 'melodies' is the correct term with AC/DC that is!  Just in case a neighbour was in I used small earphones and now I am not sure I can actually hear the traffic outside as tinnitus appears to last longer than I thought.  

Storm Ophelia has been filling the news today.  This was a hurricane at one time but now is referred to as a mere storm even though it manages to reach over a hundred miles an hour in parts of the Republic of Ireland.  This is not one of the usual left over US hurricanes, Ophelia never moved from the eastern Atlantic and has begun to move north picking up large portions of Sahara sand with it.  This sand is they say much finer than that found elsewhere, whether this is true or not the sky has turned a yellow colour above us this afternoon and in some places a deep red has appeared in the hazy clouds.  The picture is quite close to how it looked at one point and the air is filled with a heavy scent, with fine bits going up the nose I noticed.  As darkness falls the sky changes colour and with the storm heading north the sky will clear by the morning I suspect.  The storm has caused much damage and several people have been injured and a few killed.  Here the sky has changed colour, the trees shiver in the wind and the slow traffic reveals the rush hour at its height.
I may as well go back to bed...

Holiday Monday

Morning arrived quite early today as it often does.  The early sun inspired me so much that long before eight I was engaged in exercising my knees to a painful level.  The stretching ensured that I had therefore to sit and ache for a while before stuffing myself with peanut butter covered brown (organic) bread before realising this was not the best option.

In an effort to avoid stiffening up I went for a walk down the hill.  Here stand houses dating back to the 13 -1400s.  This one stands close to a similar effort that forms the back end of a house on the corner.  I suspect that these once served workers from the nearby fields or possibly in the many weaver connected trades that flourished down this street.  I also suspect that once these had thatched roofs and were not so dainty as they now appear.  I suspect also they cost less that the vast price they go for today.  
Street Details

Essex houses, made of timber and plaster, often have patterns such as this on the walls sometimes covering the entire wall.  Whether the design has any significance I cannot say having found no information of the houses I pictured.  How long they have been there is also hard to tell.  These building go back several hundred years and have found many uses, Inns, weavers, dyers, various cloth trades (the 'Bays and Says' of the Flanders folk who worked here in the past were famous. No one receiving these goods checked them as they knew they would be correct and they would not be cheated.) and of course one pub remains but the shops have gone with the weavers and their cloth.

   
This fellow and his mate has been gracing the doorway off 'Wentworth House' since the 17th century but the house itself probably began back in the 1400s.  Over the years, as with all the others, it has spread from a mere hall, added rooms, workrooms and then another storey on top and until quite recently was in a mess.  Restoration has given someone an expensive but historical work of art.  

The smaller houses go back a bit also, these have interesting but not always genuine ancient items upon them.  Genuine in age maybe but possibly in some cases recovered from elsewhere.  This is one of three in a row, well decorated, brightly painted and costing a small fortune with a very busy main road outside the window.  Why do people buy there?

My limbs told me to head homeward so I eased my eyes by bathing them in greenery by the river.  This is a well kept spot but someone had chucked some files away at one place.  I was tempted, not to greatly, to jump in and seek my fortune but managed not to.  

Someone has been tending these trees for many years but I know not who.  This was merely a place for the river to overflow (sorry Texas) and now contains recent housing costing just under half a million.  I am sure they all have a  stock of sandbags at the rear nowadays.  

The reflection makes this picture a bit abstract and it takes some looking to understand it.  Lovely and quiet today, no kids yelling, no couples groping, no passers-by,  just the birds and the slow flowing river.  Flowing so slow I thought it had stopped.  Recently there has been a plan to put a number of (expensive) houses across the other side.  This has caused upset and will certainly spoil this walk and the view over the other side.  Money however speaks volumes!

This is what happens when thistles explode!  So be careful when passing them.

Having exercised, walked, eaten and slept I now sit here aching all over wondering why I bothered!  Tomorrow it is museum day and the last week of the holidays.  I expect thousands will come in tomorrow and many mums begin to long for the peace and quiet next week.  I will be longing for it also by lunchtime!
 

The Morning Shines Brightly

Amazingly the morning has shone brightly several days running now.  Today I trundled the rusty bike with my rusty knees along the way to see if I could catch it somewhere.  Indeed this old path with aged oak trees to one side (an aged map shows them there over a hundred years ago, how long can an oak tree last I wonder) offered a pleasant view at the top.  Beside me birds sang in the trees, young squirrels frantically looked for the way home and a proper forest, six foot wide, ran alongside the path.  This contrasts to the huge school field the other side of the fence justly hidden behind a stout fence and much vegetation. 

Only one early morning dog walker met my greeting and he was more concerned with his mobile phone and the many secrets therein to notice me.  The fact that he knows me and was too occupied to recognise me I let slide and passed on.  I suspect if we were able to read the messages contained on his phone we would not in the least find them interesting yet he stood head down ignoring the bored dog that wanted something to sniff while he perused his phone, he might still be there.

  
When they laid out the housing estate the clever people allowed much of the copse that existed to remain.  If you choose to ignore the old crisp packets and plastic bottles lying around from the scruffy unkempt types who wander through it does give a brief indication of a wood.  The more we build houses the more we require such small glimpses of green to enable us to breathe freely.  The mind can only comprehend so much stone and brick, it requires trees and green grass with areas of sky to let the mind relax.  The Victorians knew this only too well.  The rise in suburbs expanding out from town and city centres, slums all too often left behind, caused a longing for a romantic and unrealistic country life.  The song lines 'You could see to 'ackney Marshes, if it wasn't for the 'ouses in between' comes to mind.  The romantic vision ignored the damp country shacks, the poor life of the villagers, hard toil in fields and the disease that was just as prevalent as in town.  However from a crowded slum tenement after a 96 hour week it could be made to look attractive. 
Life is always better over there.   

This strange colour has been hanging all over the country today.  
I think the sky is broken!

Morning Has Broke

Stupidly rising long before I ought I thought to myself that riding the bike in the quiet of the dawn might be good for my knees.  So at 6:30 I trundled somewhat shakily down the road heading straight into a fabulous sunrise.  One thing that cannot be missed is the number of aircraft coming, going or passing over up above at this early time.  I fail to comprehend what time people have to leave to board a flight in far off places if it brings them into one of London's overcrowded airports at six or seven in the morning.  Fine if you have come from China but not so good if the departure point is say Vienna.  

 
There again the standard of public transport in this land is such that to leave from Stansted Airport at six in the morning and having to be there long before boarding means arriving the night before to await your flight, possibly delayed, or get some family/friend who owes you one to drive you there in the middle of the night. This of course is not helped by the dozen or so protesters who made it through the fence (again) to block a flight to attempt to stop a deportation.  Several flights delayed, this would affect other airports and a wee bit annoying for those catching connecting flights elsewhere.  I suspect these passengers will hope the courts decapitate the protesters rather than merely fine them.

It was difficult to tell, when slowly heading up the wee slopes, who was creaking most, the bike or me.  I suppose I must put some oil on it, maybe rub some on myself, and judging by the mushrooms growing on there this morning I think I may need to clean it also.  Still much to my surprise it worked and there was sufficient air in the tyres, just.

Half an hour on the bike and still stiff but now stiff all over.  Riding a bike in the quiet of the morn is a delight, unless you are wrapped in a Hi-Vis jacket and heading for work.  I always cheerfully greet such men. (Note no women passed dressed this way - again!)  Back to bacon rolls and seeking what I have failed to do on this laptop for the museum.

December Begins

You could tell it was December by the chill under the blankets, the struggles of the heating to work properly and the thick, dull mist lying over the town.  Eight O' Clock saw me wander past the many heading into town, few walking but countless others in cars clearing the mist one hand by their movement and adding diesel and petrol fumes to it on the other.  I had to giggle as I saw them moving quickly into work while knowing that later today a long line of similar people will be slowly trundling back out again, grumbling against the hardship of busy roads.  "Catch a bus?" say I to nasty glares and the question "What bus?"  "The bus that would run if you had not all bought cars you canny afford!  Vote Tory, lose buses, increase car ownership, increase pollution and the need for car ownership as there are no buses.

Watching the Heart of Midlothian take the grubby Rangers apart last night I was not in the least surprised to notice the Glasgow press ignoring the famous victory and instead playing this down, emphasising a disallowed (rightly) goal and wallowing in tears that their team had been beat.  A more objective journalist would say the Rangers club ought to have died when it had the chance, the directors are failures and the chairman bogus, the manager out of his depth, his expensive players flops and injured at that, the rest inexperienced and out of their depth and the whole club urgently requires a make over. 
They will not say this directly of course.
However the Heart of Midlothian will carry on as that sort of reporting has gone on since 1890 and before, nothing changes under the Scottish football scene.  This team looked quite good last night however I felt a four goal win was what we required, just winning by two goals to nil was not enough in the circumstances.  Hopefully we can do the same again in a weeks time.

You can tell nothing else happened today.  
I wandered up to the shops for pillowcases, pillowcases of all things, red ones and black ones, that will brighten the odourous  west wing.  Then I sauntered the other way to upset the smiling girl at the Post Office as I posted my last parcel (have you done yours yet...?)  and wandered back home testing my knees with a new exercise, walking too much!

 
The walk back reveals the weather in these parts.  Cloudy yesterday, misty this morning, now as I hobbled round the pretty way far from traffic the sun shone brightly in a blue sky!  Tomorrow we appear to be back to gray clouds!

The sun shining through the trees is a wonder.  It is just a pity there is nothing new or exciting for it to shine upon!  Most of this little town has been photographed from all angles and there is little new to find sadly.

The sun shining on the disused and now some form of accommodation water towers I thought would be a good shot but it was not quite as I saw it.

High above the housing a plane from Stansted airport heads into the sky above us.  At that time of night it may be too early for those heading for the sun therefore I wonder if it is the commuter plane for Edinburgh, Glasgow or Belfast.  It may be heading to Frankfurt or Warsaw, or some distant unheard of airport where it is cheaper for the airline to land.  Once only the rich could fly and now almost everyone has done so at least once.
I would fly to Edinburgh if I could avoid the delays at the airport.  On occasion I have been there early and there has been a delay as a window has cracked on the flight we should take.  The replacement was held up by fog this morning in Glasgow and was on its way to us but held up by air traffic control.  Over three hours extra we waited - patiently - and eventually made it there.  
On another occasion we were also very late in taking off and on arrival at Edinburgh the plane dropped t 700 feet and rose again as the landing indicators on the ground were off and we were again in fog!  We landed from the other end as the passengers decided if we had to continue on to Aberdeen!
The flight is off no more than an hours duration so the waiting on the ground makes the journey seem long.  The view is good mind, usually I find I fly in bright sunshine watching the land below for anything interesting.  I love the view as everything is very different from the air.  There again I am easily pleased.