Showing posts with label Niece. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Niece. Show all posts

Saturday 7 January 2023

Books! & Family.


So, in spite of my better judgement I wandered off up the road to the wee shop, entering just after they had opened.  I am always wary of this shop, on the few occasions I have used it I have been confronted by what we refer to
as 'wide boys.'  However, after a quick prayer, and a quicker breakfast of stale hot cross bun and coffee, I made it anyway.  They were still sorting themselves out for the Saturday traffic and quickly I explained my desire and quickly the packet was forthcoming.  Soon I was heading home via Tesco.  This surprised me as I was aiming for Sainsburys but fell into a dream and found myself at the wrong shop.  This may not surprise anyone.  A quick wander round for the needful, and a fight to stop the girl at the checkpoint stealing my packet, and home I stumbled.  Another exciting Saturday in flow.
I have always liked the H. V. Morton style.  Especially as the books date mostly from the 1920s and 30s and as such offer a differing view on life.  Already I have mentioned his book on Scotland which I have somewhere on the shelf.  The link also offers the other Morton books I have read, and one on the man himself.  While his books offer an insight into the world of his day they also offer an insight into the man himself, this is not always pleasant.  
With the book on medieval churches I failed to realise that is contains over 400 pages of small font!  It looks historically interesting, probably is, and will be very interesting to read.  However, with several other 'heavy' reads on the go it may not appear here for a while, possibly this year!  


There are quite a few books I am slowly working my way through at the moment, and one of my sensible nieces has given me an 'Amazon' voucher, this means I will have to make use of the second hand books available there and save money and increase the book pile.  I am not sure this is a good idea...
I will start looking on Monday!


Yes its a baby.  Yet another great niece for me to spend money on.  However, on this occasion, the mother has brothers and family without nieces or nephews to spend money on, so I will not venture much more than I already have.  As far as I can count, that is four nieces, one nephew, three great nieces and two great nephews.  Though I may have missed one.  They are all at a distance, only the latest two require anything, the rest all successfully grew up and found work, bar the archaeologist who still has to decide whether to find work or study for a PHD.  
Her dad says 'Work!' 

Tuesday 6 July 2021

Tea, Deaf, Boris

 
I am sat here chock full of tea.
My favourite, best looking, and most intelligent niece, sent me a gift of tea and biscuits from the 'taverymuch' company.   The biscuits are frowned on by my highly specialised diet but were accidentally eaten just the same.  The chosen tea was also a change from the normal Sainsburys 'Red Label' stuff, and very welcome it was.
That this is the only gift my family have scraped together for my, er..32nd, birthday says something.  Most of them could not even get round to sending a card on time.  One of my good looking and highly intelligent niece's did manage to get a card, forgot to write it, then her daughter took her for a day out so it did not get posted, and I only got to see it when the daughter, also good looking and highly intelligent, posted it on facebook!  The other two favourite and good looking women both managed a card, three days late! 
It is not that I require anything from them, it is just nice if they get the dates right.  One niece managed to send everybody a Xmas card one year, nobody was missed out as was normally the case with her.  We enquired as to her efficiency, "It's because I forgot to post them last year" she said.  My brother got my Xmas present from her one year!  He did not send it on.  
On top of this shambles I have gone deaf.
Washing the other day left me deaf in the left ear.  Nothing I have done since has moved it.  Surely it is wax that is the cause, but the proper stuff to clear it has not made a difference yet.  Another week and I will annoy the doctor, well the nurse probably, just in case something has gone wrong.
Using only one ear is a huge disadvantage.  Nothing sounds the same, everything is different.  Noises appear from all around and are difficult to distinguish with only one ear.  I am amazed at how different things sound, and how much I cannot actually hear, the right ear being no longer as young as it was.  How those totally deaf manage I know not.

 
Boris has been at work again.  This time announcing the end of lockdown to go ahead, in spite of the increase in the Indian variant numbers.  Boris and his pals are telling everyone to return to normal even though the variant is out of control.  Vaccinations are not catching up and even the new Health Minister Savid Javid says we can expect 100,000 to be hit by this virus.  These people are playing with the nation.  'Herd immunity' is being tried by not vaccinating the schools.  All their press supports this stance yet the health experts say vaccinating schools ought to be done.  The privately educated scholars may get vaccinated, you wait and see.
 

Friday 28 May 2021

An Escape from the House and to Sudbury by Rail

 

 
On Thursday, my best looking, most intelligent and highly talented niece, called me to a meet.  This meant heading for Sudbury.  For reasons unknown she and him were spending a week at Bury St Edmunds and wished to see me.  Having not met for well over 18 months and with her expecting in September it was important to meet now, but how?  He does not drive, I have no car, and no bus runs between here and there (Thank you Mrs Thatcher!).   After much thought and confusion, a reading of timetables, still a difficult operation, in the end they caught a bus to Sudbury and I took the train.  I still pray for the maroon Landrover to arrive, still waiting...


Train travel as you know, is a simple matter of taking the train to Witham, changing, travelling two stops to Marks Tey, changing into the one grubby coach, travelling three stops to Sudbury.  Easy.
 

So, rising before dawn, I shuffled down the slope to the station early, just to ensure I got a ticket from the man and did not have to use the complicated machine.  I was able to make use of my 'Railcard' and get some money off the cost.  First time in two years I think.  The night before I checked the 'Greater Anglia' website and looked at the various prices.  If I set a time the journey cost it £10:60.  If I had an 'open return,' the cost was £16:50.  At the station in the morning I paid £11:05, no wonder the rail staff are confused about ticket prices today?  I chatted to a gran showing the child the railway and soon I was aboard the high speed express, 30 mph at times, heading south.
 
 
Easy?
Naturally, at Witham confusion reigned!
The signals had failed between here and Marks Tey, two stops of trouble!  In this picture you see the Norwich train awaiting instruction in the loop, on the right the Ipswich train also awaits while behind us, as seen in the previous foto another Norwich train arrives  These usually have at least 30 minutes between them.  The two railway employees were doing wonders in the situation as every passenger (sorry, customer) had the same question and the poor lads had no answers.    
Quicker than expected the 'all clear' was given, instructions announced, and I now had to clamber up stairs and down to catch the Ipswich service as that was now going to stop at Marks Tey, if the driver remembered.  Apart from my knee giving way and almost falling down, a workman reached out his hand to stop me, there were no more mishaps and the destination was reached.
Indeed the passengers, like the workman, were mostly pleasent to one another in this confusion, no blame being attached to the workers either.
 
 
At Marks Tey the change was simple, the platforms merging into one another.  Much to my surprise the grubby coach no longer runs, replaced during LockDown by this glamerous three coach set.  Very nice indeed I must say.

 
While many travelling had been affected by the short disruption there was a healthy use of this train, clearly much used during commuter hours for those travelling to London or in the other direction towards Ipswich.  


Having not been anywhere for so long it was good to view the acres of green fields with early crops beginning to show through.  Occasional cattle, small villages with houses priced so high no pleb will be moving there anytime soon, a church spire here, a tower there, trees and bushes lining the track, something not allowed in days of steam.  Altogether a bright day with a colourful landscape, such a change from being indoors.  The recent weather harming the windows prevented any chance of a picture from the train, this one does not see the washing machines daily obviously.  So far, an enjoyable and 'interesting' day out.
 

I was quite surprised to see my niece, young attractive, slim, as I half expected to see a bell tent on legs, but it is far too soon for that, maybe August.  James, her owner, looked as expected, balding more I noticed, come Christmas what he has left, may well be pulled out of course.  
Here we have one of life's mysteries.  How come and attractive talented young woman in London cannot find a rich man?  How come she ended up with a hill walking university librarian as opposed to a rich man with a yacht in the Med?  
I will never understand women, and James has probably found he will never understand them either to his cost!
 
 
'Sudbury,' meaning 'South of Bury,' has been around since Saxon times, the twice weekly market, which was busy when we passed by, itself being over a thousand years old.  The town became wealthy in the days of long ago through the Flemish weavers who flooded into East Anglia, many sheep in the area and judging by the size of the ancient 'Corn Hall,' now used as a library, there was great money in agriculture also.
 
 
Certainly some people made a great deal of money in times past but looking up house prices I find Sudbury to be considerably cheaper than this area.  These house on Gainsborough Road maybe no more than £350,000.  You can of course pay a million nearby if you wish but round here these would add a hundred thousand to the price.  There is still a great deal of money in Suffolk but being further from London may keep prices down.
 

We found a cafe for tea and cake and a chance to natter, more about the cafe later, and wandered back and forth along the main street, there not being much else to see.  There was limited time as even on holiday my niece chose to follow up on her piano teaching work, money makes demands, and had to return for a certain time to their high class lodgings.  I hope the tent was dry.  
Sudbury is a small Bury St Edmunds with a mains street, a big church, no longer used, indeed it has three medieval churches and a famous archbishiop called Simon Sudbury.  He had arranged for a Leper hospital to the north of the town and has also come up with the idea of the Poll Tax.  This however, in 1381, did not go down well with the natives.  They collected him from the Tower of London, took him somewhat unwillingly to Tower Hill and chopped his head off, eventually, as it took 7 or 8 strokes.  Some 'Brass Neck' on an Archbishop.  Why did we not do this with Maggie when she had the same idea?  Simon's body was buried in Canterbury but his head remains in St Gregory's Church, Sudbury.  Maybe we ought to have gone and had a look?
We wandered past Gainsborough's House, he was not in as the workmen were renovating it.  Famous as a landscape and portrait painter a statue was erected in 1903 to commemorate the man, long after he was dead you note.   At the OU I had to comment on one of his pictures, that of Mr & Mrs Andrews of around 1748.  It was said he wanted a landscape and they a portrait, whether this is true or not it is fact that he had his landscape and put them at the side of it.  Very well done.
 

In amongst the wealth of weaving, agriculture and the vast array of vehicular traffic the townspeople, all 14,000 of them struggle to survive like the rest of us.  I wonder what proportion take the early train to Ipswich or London?


Too soon in my opinion came time to depart.  Parting is such sweet sorrow, well no, it isn't!  I was enjoying them, James is a great man and will fit in this deranged family very weel, he comes from Burnley you see.  Burnley, it is a place up north, I believe they call it 'Blackburn's little brother,' but I will have to check that.  They clambered aboard the bus that took them round all the houses and through the suitably named 'Long Melford,' another place well worth a visit if you ever venture up that way, and I hurried to the station to catch the train that would be soon to depart wiping away tears from my eye.
 

Naturally, I had read the timetable wrong, it was not 46 mins past but 26!   
This meant a wait in the sun, which was fine by me.  This short platform here is extremely well kept, I wonder if volunteers do this rather than staff?  I suspect that as there are no permanent staff it is indeed a voluntary job, well doen to them!  Neat and tidy with a background of varied plants it is a welcome resting place for the traveller.

Not only do the birds get a home made for them...


So do the bees...


Wildlife must flourish in such circumstances, here's another enjoying life here.
 

 
It once was common for railways stations to be a gardeners delight.  Dunbar I believe still is, and many others have some attempt at improving the environment.  Staff themselves probably have less time today, certainly at bigger stations, and in such places the public may be less concerned with the surroundings.  I consider Sudbury Station a wee treasure.  Awaiting a train in the sun is a delight when birds sing in the trees, creatures move around amongs the flora opposite and you know people appreciate the surroundings.


On time as always the 335 arrives and soon we were heading home.  On the way the conductor (what we used to call 'guard') chatted amiably.  Ian, his name, explained the difficulties of his job re ticket pricing.  So many railcards (Indeed, I counted 28 on the website) some of course only for certain parts of the country, all making Ian's job difficult.  On this train the conductor collects fares, no ticket booth at such stations, add to this a crowded train, a short journey and the mad rush you could see how he enjoyed this late, quiet, shift.  It is not unusual to find rail staff friendly on the quieter lines.


We sauntered across the famous Chappel Viaduct, some 32 spans made from around 7 million bricks. Completed in 1849 it reveals why so many young men became bricklayers.  A 'Brickies' life, or indeed a Bricklayers assistants life, in Victorian days was one of constant work.  Railways required bridges, buildings and a wide variety of other constructions.  A great housebuilding increase saw towns spread out and follow rail lines, no wonder there are so many 'Bricklayers Arms' to be found in the nation.  It was at such pubs that men would gather once a week and pay their 'subs.'  Usually a sixpence would cover it, if they fell ill or were injured they could then draw a few shillings a week to keep them alive, hence the pubs took their name.  Just imagine how many bricks are in the buildings around you now, Victorian made and still doing their job.
 

By now my feet as well as my knees were telling me to go home.  Naturally, at the modern Marks Tey Station to cross the line you use the stairs.  I have my own opinion on stairs.  This modern station has no lift!  How do you cross in a wheelchair?  I captured this train arriving, to slow to rush down, and allowed it to depart knowing another would be along soon enough.  I then clambered up another flight to the coffee shop in the main entrance only to find it closed because of Covid!  
I was pleased.
So I waited in the shelter as Norwich trains raced by, on time now, and the Liverpool Street from Norwich rushed the other way.  Why do I find such things entrancing?  I just wish they were steam!


Every station has a numpty taking pictures of trains, some staff object, others don't care.  Here a dirty look from the far side from someone, possibly not working on the railway, failed to discourage me.  I was Thursdays train numpty.  How I was enjoying being allowed out!  
I note nobody else was enjoying me being out however.
 
 
I clambered up the stair at Witham muttering many things unfit for this gentle blog, I muttered much more when at the top I remembered they do have lifts at WithamI  So I descended gracefully by the lift to the platform.  By the time I reached the end of the busy station the train arrived.   The short sun filled wait at quiet Marks Tey being better than a longer wait at this now busy place.
 

Soon I was hobbling up the Hill, a hill I used to refer to as a slope.  Once I hardly noticed the slope, now I trudged on feeling like I was in the Cairngorms and not Essex.  This was made worse by realizing  I had failed to take anything from the freezer last night and now, for some reason being hungry, I was forced to trudge round Tesco and struggle home with a bag of ready to cook pasta.  Another staircase, a fight with an oven, a burnt pasta mess, tastless, burnt, but all eaten no matter what, and bed with a very  stiff drink to stop me from calling an ambulance.  Totally whacked, soon out for the count.

Today's breakfast... 
 

I must say I was really glad I saw them. 
 

Sunday 3 March 2019

Niece


Today I rushed up to Sainsburys for buffet food.  My niece and her man were arriving on time, they said, so I considered it wise to shop while I could.
They arrived in town after the usual weekend fare on the railways, train so far and arrive early, bus so far, wait for train, then walk to house.  Naturally she who would walk without my guidance as she knew the way got lost. There are hardly any streets in this town and she went the wrong way! Women!
He of course did not know the way and she made use of Google Maps on her phone and got lost.
How nice to see them, it is rare to actually meet the family today (most are pleased with this) and hear the news.  Then after finding out information on him, a good man for her, I threw them out so they could get home before tomorrow.     
How strange to see family after so long, last time we met was her dads funeral a year ago.  What she has gone through since.  It reminds me I must head north at some time this year, once I stop coughing, and see the ageing family up there.  This of course might be difficult as my bus pass only takes me to the border, from then on I'd have to walk the rest of the way or pay... I had better check my shoes.
Now, in spite of missing the football (He at least has the decency to support Burnley) I enjoyed my day with human beings.  I might do this again one day.
The thing is I am glad I have this family.  Too many families I see are broken up, have serious faults and do not get on with one another.  This is annoying.  I am grateful when looking at my parents, many of their ideas, the siblings and their brats and am happy with them even though one or two require  good slap now and again.  It would be terrible to come from a family that would fit into 'Eastenders.' 

I wonder if they are home yet...


Thursday 28 February 2019

Gray Edinburgh


After sunny days, most of them missed by me, I wander out today under gray leaden skies with a chilly wind annoying.  I suppose we will have snow sooner than April.  
This is annoying as I have to spend the next couple of day cleaning the place.  My niece is bringing her boyfriend on Sunday (Sunday with football on?) for some reason.  She comes once a year to see if I am alive and if there is any money, she is disappointed in both.
So tomorrow I must finish the bathroom work, the sinks, dust everywhere, then hoover the dust piles, polish woodwork, tidy books and other things lying around, iron shirts, wash others first, put out the rubbish and open the windows.  
I am worn out already.
If luck is with me I will force feed them in a local cafe, if it is open and if it is not crowded with the local ageing Mods who gather there occasionally with their scooters.  That saves giving them e.coli and time and effort.  
But what is she after this time?

 
Because of the work done on our behalf by the noble parliamentarians the Parliamentary Standards Authority has given them a 2.7%pay rise, around £2000 each.  This means they will be getting just under £80,000 a year each.  Now personally I consider that small beer for an MP.  People who decide Law and routine purposes in life ought to be rewarded with a great deal more than that.  I would suggest a minimum of around £150,000 -£200,000 for such employment.  Of course with a nation under austerity that would not be appropriate, however that would not stop this lot, and such a rise would be unworkable in today's situation.  Also so many of these 'workers' have other jobs.  Lawyers take time of to make ten times their salary on a case, doctors run off to rip of private patients and almost all have 'directorships' that bring in the cash for little effort bar their name on the headed paper.  The advantage of bigger wages would be by tempting in those who earn a great deal more now in their employment, even if they were only MPs for five years or so.  The present lot have sold out for or against Brexit and have little self awareness to take a stand on any principle of any kind.  As such I am not sure they deserve a wage increase and new blood, with principles would be good to have.

    
There is something bout old photographs that are catching.  I refer to pictures of places you once knew.  Here is Edinburgh, 'Up the Bridges' as we used to call it near Tron Church, where lots of major stores once wasted much of my mothers time.  I like such photos as we can compare how things have changed and yet over a hundred years on they remain the same.  
My dad would have been two years of age at this time, 1910, the world was advancing in so many ways, scientifically, socially, economically and it is clear from the picture three men have done reasonably well out of things so far.  I wonder who they were?  How come they can stroll along during working hours while others, on little pay, work?  It is clearly summer, the old man is wearing an overcoat, the younger ones are not.  Watch chains protrude from the waistcoats, hats are worn indicating class, successful men but in what I wonder.
The buildings remain the same I guess, shop names change, goods change but the basic function remains as always commercial.  The lighting will have improved, surely that is gas lighting but how would the 'Leerie' get up that high?  Could it be early electric street lighting?  The cobbled streets are famous in Edinburgh, especially on the northern side where snow aids the buses as they slither down through Stockbridge on frozen cobbles.  The traffic however is considerably less, walking there would result in a few words from a bus driver and the horse and cart is now replaced with 7.5 ton vehicles delivering goods.  
Many changes but instantly recognisable and made me cogitate for a while.

Friday 24 August 2018

Shopping Joy and Holiday Carnival...


Having forced myself into Tesco late this morning, forced is the word as the place was bloated with people, most not quite clear as to what they were doing, I obtained most of my needs and the most important gift card for yet another nieces birthday.  I am convinced that some of these girls are fraudulent as there appears to be a birthday every month and sometimes two!  Are these really family members or hangers on who have somehow got their name on my calendar, it is a mystery. 
Back home resting my maladies I became aware that Monday is a Bank Holiday.  As the card must arrive by Monday that means I must post it now and ensure it gets there on Saturday, this meant leaving my comfort and once again heading into town.
After much shillyshallying I trudged all the way into town, some seven minutes away, and posted the card in the box I know will be collected, sometimes Mr Postman misses the nearer one, the cad!  
As I sauntered around I had intended to visit Sainsbury's and collect the oven chips that I forgot when amongst the masses in Tesco earlier but the herds of people suddenly had vanished!  The streets were clear, well almost, and 'Iceland' lay over the road with few people to be seen.  Naturally with only one item to obtain I spent £14:63!!!  At least the freezer compartment is full now.   I even tolerated the 16 year old with an attitude.  This was a surprise as most of the girls here in Iceland are usually quite good, cheery even, I suppose working is a new experience for some.
The Bank Holiday brings out the Notting Hill Carnival and whenever I see pictures of this I am glad to be out here far from the event.  Over a million people, hassle, police, yobs, noise and mess everywhere, it makes me glad to be here indeed.  The church pictured where my friend is minister has to close on Sunday because of the crowds.  In times past it remained open but many struggled to get past the police cordon to get in, then struggle again to get out.  The church attempted to make something out of the carnival by opening and offering tea and coffee but that had too many problems and nowadays it is easier to just close for the day, well two days as the building is usually used on Mondays.  Most locals head off out of town and do not return until Tuesday of they can, a wise precaution.
I will sit here in boredom watching football, it passes the time.   


Thursday 27 July 2017

A Day of Rest and a Visit.


Yesterdays early morning sun (I didn't see this mornings as I was still akip) shone brightly.  I struggled out of bed to attempt to clear up the mansion before my niece arrived.  This is her every eighteen month or so visit the intention being to see if I am still alive and to see if I have any money.  Sad to say she was disappointed in both endeavours!  Not only am I still alive (in one fashion at least) the money has not as yet made an appearance.  I took the opportunity to visit the museum to prove to the doubters that I actually had a talented family member.   


As my most beautiful and highly talented niece was only here for a few hours to run her finger over the dust on the mantelpiece and fail to engender any guilt from me while doing so it was a chance to eat properly, or so I thought.  I bought reasonably well and she ate it all!  We then talked, well I listened while she spoke of her world travels and musical talent.  I have musical talent also, daily I play the wireless!  At least she left some organic chocolate which has put a smile on my face and a hole in my teeth.


Today I have been recovering from the aches and pains, the tiredness and eventually clearing up the mess left from our dinner yesterday, the leftovers made an excellent breakfast!  I didn't realise until today how tired I was!  How it catches up with you when not expecting it.  
Next week, maybe tomorrow, I will begin my new exercise programme that I will devise.  I intend to get fit, certainly fit enough to meet my niece at the station and walk home as fast as she did.  I only puffed so much because  we were walking up a slight slope!  
Time for bed, it's just after six... 



Wednesday 11 January 2017

'Ae Spark o' Natures Fire'


Today I elected to board the 12:08 Zimmer Bus but for reasons beyond comprehension the bus left exactly on time meaning I missed it!  Since when did 'First Bus' buses run to timetables around here???  The little problem was the timing. This bus takes 43 minutes according to the timetable, this ignores roadworks, car crashes and bad weather of course, and had I been aboard enabled me to arrive at the theatre in time to select a decent seat to watch my best looking, most talented and highly intelligent niece perform at the piano alongside her singer.  As it was I did arrive well into the concert and squeezed myself into a seat between songs much to the numerous audience members disgust.  This small theatre holds about a hundred seats and was quite full, these (cheap) lunchtime concerts entertain music lovers and fill in time for people off the Zimmer Bus.  

My wonderful niece played superbly.  I have the CD of the concert they gave during the Edinburgh Fringe (sent by another attractive young niece) but to see her in action was a real treat.  It is two or three years since I saw her play so with a memory like mine this was a new experience!  It was good to see how she has developed her skill, the variety of songs gave a lot of opportunity to shine, some soft, some rather rugged in comparison and watching her hands work the keys with each was super.
Jillian her singer took centre stage (singers always do) and they went through a wide variety of songs, some Rabbie Burns, some from Spanish writers, some Russian.  It amazed me how she could concentrate on her singing and remember all the words of so many songs.  It was interesting to note how she almost acted out some of the words yet did not go so far as to lose track of what she was doing.  I mentioned afterwards how many of the locals would fail to understand the words of the Scots songs, they probably understood more of the Russian than anything by Burns.  There again with sopranos it is more than the words it is the noise produced (am I allowed to say 'noise' at this point?). 

I regretted greatly missing most of the first 30 minutes and have spent much time this evening seeking suitable works on YouTube but only one can I find from their act, the one above.  However I had a really enjoyable hour what with the music and meeting my favourite niece, what more can I ask?



Books!  That's what I could ask!  After leaving them to their devices, probably the pub, I made my way down the Big City back alleyways looking for the new 'Foyles' Bookshop.  Naturally while following strict instructions how to find it I ended up in a car park!  Wandering round the back streets I found gleaming buildings that were not there six months ago when I last passed this way. One of them was the gleaming 'Foyles' Bookshop.  Two floors of books surrounded by huge windows and lots of space, too much space in my view and not as much 'cosiness' as found in old fashioned bookshops.  One real irritant was the placing of books at ground level, I canny get down that far and with one section of small sized book crammed together my eyes found it hard to read the titles.  At least I made use of the generously donated bookmark with a book or two which now join the queue to be read.  This means five books are in that queue and I think I am reading eight others at the same time.  As they are mostly in the loo, a place most men use as a library, it may well be I do myself some harm while stimulating the brain.



Saturday 30 January 2016

'Setting the Desert on fire'


My best looking and most intelligent niece only ever made two mistakes, she married a Hun and bore his son.  That said she appears to be quite happy about all this in spite of my opinions and the son has turned out to be the only member of the family with the ability to read books.  Since he learnt the art of reading he has always had a book in his face although drink and women have lessened his reading abilities somewhat in recent years.  However when Christmas arrives and the two are together long enough for a briefing re presents he has clearly advised her regarding a book for me.  It is not possible she, wise though she be, would consider such a work as suitable.  Indeed the last book she chose by herself was 'Grumpy Old Men,' a book with which I could not begin to comprehend the reason she sent to me and then could not see any 'grumpy men' within, indeed they appeared quite commonsensical for the most part. 
This year once again she has returned to him for advice and clearly his advice has been good.  "Setting the Desert on Fire" by James Barr is a wonderful fast moving narrative concerning the details of 'Lawrence of Arabia' and his Middle Eastern adventures during the Great War.
Having read so many Great War books I was going through one of those moods when any more offerings were not seen as urgent reads, naturally I have four more lined up after this one all demanding my attention!  However once I opened the book I could not put it down.  Everyone has heard of 'Lawrence of Arabia' British propaganda and tabloid newspapers half truths saw to that but few including myself know the real deal.  This book, the result of four long years trawling through documents, diaries and letters scattered across the globe, enlightens us as to the reality of the popular myth.  Creatures found in Hollywood movies usually bear no relation to the facts I find.

The political problems faced by London were simple enough.  The Royal Navy was now powered by oil rather than coal so guarding the oil fields in southern Mesopotamia was urgent.  The Turkish threat to the Suez Canal could lead to uprisings in Egypt which may lead to loss of the Canal and cut the lifeline to India, the so called 'Rose in the Crown.'  France was desperate to control Syria and the Brits were desperate to avoid any interference from them in that area.  Here also two forces fought for control of the region, London and India.  The Indian end was afraid upsetting the balance in Arabia could lead to disturbances in India and their solutions cut across much of what London, or their people ion Cairo wished to see.  Political games are of ten delicately balanced and strong forces often care little about the harm others may suffer.
The Arabs were of course not asked their opinion.
This is not quite correct as Arab opinion was important, that is getting Shaikh Hussein and Ibn Saud the two most powerful Arab leaders, to follow British wishes in removing the Turks.  Politically this led to vague promises that in reality meant little in western diplomacy however in the Arab mind many steadfast promises were made.  Often this was exaggerated by translation promises and lack of comprehension of the other sides views.  This still causes resentment today.     
Lawrence, or Captain Edward. T.E. Lawrence as we should call him was an intelligence officer in Egypt.  Before the war he had travelled widely in the region working as an archaeologist and just happening to note Turkish positions in the region.  During 1916 he got his way for more action by transferring to the Arab Bureau and entered the Hijaz region to assess the situation.
In Arabia hew as able to convince the Emir of Mecca Shaikh ibn Ali Husein to follow British will and provide men to help deal with the Turkish railway that ran to Medina the then capital and birthplace of the prophet Mohammad.  
For the next two years Lawrence developed the various factions into an army of sorts and indulged in 'Boys Own' type adventures attempting to destroy the railway line.  As time passed they progressed form cutting small sections soon repaired to blowing bridges and long lengths of line.  Each occasion hindered Turkish movements of men and supplies destroying equipment and men.  On occasion the Arab nomadic approach of looting and taking no prisoners caused some degree of disagreement as this cut across the normal British approach to prisoners.
Difficulties with tribes fighting with one another rather than Turks, of shaikhs demanding large sums of money which appeared to disappear, with Husein fear of ibn Saud taking his place from the rear, and above all problems between London, Cairo, and India and the personnel involved each working from his own position all added to Lawrence's struggles.
For political and personal reasons Lawrence's aim was to enable the Arabs to be seen as fighting the war, not a Briton leading them.  This was to stop the French moving into Syria and to encourage the British to allow Arab rule over the land.  Treaties were signed unknown to those in the field, and often hidden for months, promises from one, vague or not, flew between various peoples, all to often Lawrence would no little of these or in some cases be found responsible for them.  It was that kind of situation.

The final victory brought more confusion as one promise or another was pushed aside to suit worldwide requirements.  All to often consideration for the Arabs themselves were considered unimportant.  The Arabs of course were not one nation, they remain today a variety of tribal and sectarian groupings forced together into political states invented by more powerful nations and their requirements.  Political turmoil in itself is not the fault of the west, that would occur anyway but it is always good to have someone to blame, especially if you have oil and money.  
For most of the war Lawrence's role, along with that of many other British officers and men who joined as time went by, remained a secret back home.  It was the French, in an attempt to prove their position, that revealed his work.  A great hero was created and common myth keeps this going for years afterwards.
Lawrence was not in my opinion a man you could get close to.  He was certainly affected by the war but appears to have been a troubled soul before this time.  he claimed in his 'Seven Pillars of Wisdom' that he had entered the town of Dara then in Turkish occupation and been arrested as a deserter from the Turkish army and roundly whipped and abused by the commander of the town.  Much of this appears from this book to have been an invention of his mind.  The 'Seven Pillars' was not meant for popular publication and given only to friends and this may have allowed him the freedom to express his rather unusual desires more openly.  He certainly indulged them after the war.  The settlement saw Lawrence back in 'England' and later he went on to join the RAF as a lower ranked airman.  Captain W.E. Johns famous for his 'Biggles' books was working at the RAF recruitment office when this strange character entered to sign on.  Orders from above came through and it was only later did he realise what was going on, the purpose of his enlistment was never clear.
Lawrence died a hero by crashing his motorbike at high speed in 1935.  His influence on the Middle East must have hung heavy with him as he saw the major powers mishandling the situation there.  At least some of those he worked with were inspired by their actions there, one Francis Stirling was to join him and later became the leader of the 'Long Range Desert Force' in the North African campaign, this was the beginning of the SAS. 

The book is well researched and a racy read.  My knowledge of that aspect of the war was limited to General Allenby's push up through Palestine and the actions of the Arabs against the railway line did indeed go a long way to helping him by disrupting Turkish movements and greatly hindering the Turks in their operations.  The suffering of Turkish prisoners is not something to consider however but the Turks had followed the usual Middle Easter approach and treated all peoples badly.  The book does not gloss over the good and bad aspects of Arab and political behaviour, it shows the British in a poor light all too often and exposes the confused mix of Arab politics.  
Well worth a read and a change from the Western Front!    


Monday 29 July 2013

Pill Box


Being forced to remain indoors by my most beautiful and intelligent niece.  A Radio 4 play (yawn) was occurring and the musical genius was playing the piano in appropriate places.  She I must say was magnificent!  Displaying the talent, intelligent understanding of the role, and sheer ability that left me wondering if indeed her dad really was my brother.  However the play concerned a famous ballet choreographer, her men, and the Queen Mother.  I confess I preferred the piano to the old queens.  'Drama,' never reflects real life, and the characters of the characters offered made me puke wish to turn off and listen to a woman talking about her baby!   The old queens I've worked with always appeared decent enough folks for the most part, those at the top of their profession however always give me the impression that folks fawning around them has turned their head somewhat.   That will not happen to my favourite pianist, her mother informs me!

But I digress, I began by attempting to inform you (those still awake) that I had spent that 45 minutes radio listening by wondering through the old albums.  There I found this picture of a disused pill box.  This was one of many installed across south east England in 1940, the intention being to hinder a Nazi advance.  The policy was in fact erroneous, the better tactic, and one Rommel attempted in 1944 was to stop a bridgehead being built on the landing beaches.  Once that is secured the day is lost, which is what happened in June '44.  However these pill boxes were built in many spots considered able to defend any advance.  Many still exist in back gardens, overseeing railway lines and river crossings, and here in the fold of a hill.  Quite why this one is here, somewhere in the north of Essex or the south of Suffolk I cannot remember, but some general of sorts considered something worth defending here, most probably the roadway, or railway, now removed.

These small concrete emplacements would have held two or three men and a couple of machine guns.  Their chances of survival under a real invasion would have been slim, although the enemy would not have been kindly disposed towards them I suspect.  These low doors, often you have to crawl to enter, now find use as storehouses or play area s for children.  Some are preserved as memorials others rot slowly and the vast majority have been removed.  The effects of war remain for many years, some notable, many unseen, all enabling us to be grateful the invasion never occurred.


Wednesday 6 June 2012

Wednesday Trivia



I discovered this interesting quiz in the Graniud the other day.  It is well worth wasting a few minutes of your valuable time to get the wrong answers here.  Have fun!
Where should you emigrate? Click here!


I didn't mean to post this but this laptop has a mind of its own. 
 I may be wrong but is that a 'For Sale' sign I see before me.....?



This beastie reflects my mood this week.  You see I had a great time on Monday.  My best looking, most intelligent, classical trained and favourite niece came all this way out of grotty London to see me.  How lovely to have a visitor.  At least the place has been cleaned up, the dust polished away and the floor hoovered.  I also found where most of those frozen peas went that time!  Hiding the remaining stench behind vanilla candles she cooked my dinner (oh joy!) and we discussed the family, the world, her future, Bartock and Stravinsky (which she has played magnificently) and all sorts of meaningless rubbish (the family) and I at least had a real good time.  Since that visit my life has been lonely, dark, empty, and shorn of joy.  The lifted heart droops when you know she will not reappear for another ten years, or at least it will seem that long.  So I look like yon joker placed there to bring fun and joy to the carnival at the weekend.  I don't think I can go on, I feel suicidal, the empty cold rooms, no bright young thing to listen to.......

Hold on, what's that?  Oh yeah!  Football starts tomorrow night!  EURO 2012.  Oh well it's just as well she isn't here. You know what women are like when football is on......  


A more important piece of trivia is shown on this picture.  It was here on the night of June 5th 1944 that D-Day began.  Men of the Ox & Bucks Light infantry landed here in gliders and took possession of the bridge over the Caen Canal.  The 6th Airborne Division thus began the liberation of Europe.  The film 'The Longest Day' portrayed this action quite well.  This is not surprising as John Howard, who led this action advised and Richard Todd, who took Howards part in the film, landed with the paras shortly afterwards to reinforce the hold on the bridge!  A further piece of trivia comes from the new French president visiting war graves at a British cemetery at Ranville Cemetery.  Many of those buried there fell in this action.  This act is notable as the French have made a point of ignoring Britain's part in freeing France from occupation.  The royal family themselves were snubbed at the 65th D-Day commemoration when Sarkozy went to Omaha Beach and ignored the British contribution.  Today's event was meant to patch up that mistake, but Sarkozy himself was not around to participate!  The French leaders have never liked to admit British help in two wars, most French people are less reticent.  


That steamroller must have been going at some speed when it hit this fellow!


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