Be Happy...

Nothing to Say

Nothing to say as I have been lazy, nothing happened, and football was on...

Daffs

I have a picture of Daffodils in the sunshine, sunshine being an unusual feature round this way at the moment.  The field of daffs planted by the council workmen and stolen, damaged and sometimes admired by the public are always a wonder to behold at this time of year.
However that is not why I post the picture.
I post the picture and realise I have nothing to say.
Now you may feel that is not an unusual happening around here also but my fingers were ready and willing to type words for me but the mind, ageing, slow and full of holes, appears to have nothing to say at the time of writing.  This is somewhat unusual as all too often words fall out of my gob long before the mind has formulated a reason for them.  At least that is what folks have told me down through the so many years.  
Today is always a nothing day while I recover from the hard three hours spent in the museum yesterday.  It was quite hard at times, the kids arriving for the activities required booked in, checked off, phones answered, problems dealt with and so on all at the same time of course.  Three of us managed to make a mess of this quite well yesterday but in the end the kids were all happy and delighted with the day, especially those who persuaded mum or gran to part with cash for a small treasure. 
My day began in sunshine and watching dogs happily bounce about the grass opposite while I sat on the end off the bed trying to get my eyes in focus.  I then ate something almost but not quite healthy and looked at Deuteronomy chapter 3.  This I now do instead of reading the gutter press each morning.  Deut, as friends call him, is more interesting than I thought.  It is however easy to read the gutter press early in the day it is not so easy to cogitate on something that requires thought long before the coffee kicks in.  It is also not too easy when the finger on the page points in your direction, I can do without that early in the morning. 
I cold bore you with details of my exercise regime but most of you would consider that a failure.
You may be right.
However today I again made the effort, as aches now remind me, and while not yet fit enough for the Scotland Commonwealth Games team I can now walk around the park with less squeaking coming from my knees.  Something must be getting done right. 
I could discuss Ronaldo's overhead kick last night that indeed took my breath away at the time.  He is not the type of person I would wish around me but it has to be said he manages to bring off the spectacular when it is required.  The Juventus fans also applauded the goal at the time and this got me thinking of how in the early 60's it was quite common for people, especially the rich sitting in the stand, to applaud a good goal by the opposition.  This may have been because at that time many people went to both Heart of Midlothian and Hibernian games in those days having season tickets for both, a common enough thing then.  Today this is less likely and fans like society in general are more polarised however I remember reading of one Edinburgh Derby game where both sets of fans applauded the Hibernian goalie Andy Gorum for a couple of outstanding saves he had made that day so it still can happen, most fans appreciate the good in the other side but say little about it.
There is so much I could say that would be as boring as what has gone before so I will go and read my newly delivered copy of 'Private Eye' and discover which politician is lying n his teeth, which hack is doing similar, which local councillor is filling his pockets, and possibly fond a cartoon that is funny for  a change.  

Nothing To Say

I failed to find anything.
It has become dark and dank.
I'm back off to bed...

Nothing to say...

So here is a 'Selfie!'

All Quiet Here...

Apart from a quick trip to 'Poundland,' I needed to check prices for Christmas presents for the girls at work, and the joy of cleaning the sink nothing else has happened today.
The dreich weather, gray clouds with almost no sunshine, a weary mind which forced me back to bed not long after my porridge, a very good breakfast they say, and a lot of time running boot scans on laptops there has been nothing to report or even question. 

Of course there are major events unfolding, 'Brexit' has been brought before the 'Supreme Court (so named to aid Tony Blair in his US style 'Presidential' fantasies) this court must decide if this government can go ahead without a parliamentary vote or indeed by ignoring Scotland while doing so and begin leaving the EU.  Elsewhere war and starvation continue while few bother to report it, tides rise and fall, Polar Bear wonder what they will be called when the Polar has disappeared, and the majority carry on regardless too busy with their own situation to care or do something somewhere to aid matters. 
Just like me in fact!

I have however eaten well today.  I began with porridge because Oats are indeed good for you.  They say that this is one way to lower cholesterol and by adding Honey a good way to allow 'energy' to be available throughout the day.  I am far from sure about the last bit!  My energy lasts an hour or so and goes elsewhere.  maybe I ought to cook a lot of it, let it harden and then chomp on it biscuit fashion.  It might be difficult getting the right consistency mind, it might be difficult eating it of course...
However tonight I had a bit of STEAK!  The woman next door is now searching for her cat...

Some may think these are old pictures, some would be correct!  Nothing to see today out there.  Dreich weather does not encourage outdoor pictures especially when there is little in this wee town to call attractive!  I took my camera but the inside of the crowded 'Poundshop' was not really a place to start photographing things.  As my hands were full of bird pellets anyway it made things all the harder.  I met a neighbour there who has the same problem as myself, the birds will not eat anything but 'Poundshop' pellets.  She found that by using a different kind of seed from that found in the shop the birds rejected that also.  Imagine, we are henpecked by fussy Starlings!   Who runs the feeding anyway I ask!  During the breeding season it cost me £10 a week!!!!  Good job I am kind and loving...

Nothing to Say

Looking and Failing

Nothing to Say

After a day at the museum working myself into my chair I have nothing to say.  Liverpool Street pictures have been used up, what is left is not great and my mind is dead after having to get up early and work.

In a corner of the entrance at St Magnus the Martyr stands this grimy iron relic.  Some claim it is a boundary marker but to me it is more likely to mark a fire hydrant or some such device.  E & S Poynder were plumbers in 1914 it appears and this strange device may be understood from that - possibly.  
Tonight I return to a search for a man who I searched for last year, or at least this time i look for his brothers who survived.  My frazzled brain is contemplating leaving it until tomorrow but it will have to be done soon.  

I leave you with this thought...

 

I Have Nothing to Say

Nothing Friday

Nothing happened.
I dreampt I was being besieged by an angry Boxer dog last night and was pleased to escape it by waking.  I failed to waken after this until almost 8:30.  That shows how hard I worked yesterday.  Having looked for people who leave only a badly spelt name and finding little about them I have done nothing else all day.
A wander a couple of times through the town, no fotos to be seen, and a wander back again disappointed was my lot.  Had it not been for the chatting up the lass in Tesco the whole day would have been wasted.  
Now I look to blog when nothing has happened, the town is the same as always, darkness falls early, I have no energy to go anywhere, and life continues in the mundane mould?  Where is there inspiration in this?  
I could discuss the two up and two down little houses that were erected around the late 1870's up 'Sunnyside' and let you know that the first dwellers therein could male use of the water pump found next to Number One, but that may not interest you.  Having been inside one some time back I can tell you the walls are too thin, not a problem then although most contained families of six or seven plus occasional lodgers!  I suspect noise was a problem even then.  One has a deep hole in the back garden this the remains of an 'Anderson Shelter' built during the war.  It had been covered up and was found by accident by one of the people renting there.  There must be many such holes across the nation like this.
Holes in the ground was a war happening.  It was Spike Milligan in his book 'Rommell, Gunner Who?' In which he tells of his experiences during the war as he raced slowly across North Africa chasing Germans.  He mentions standing in a hole on guard one night pondering the vast number of men also sitting or standing in holes in the ground all across Europe, Africa and the Far East.  Millions of men like he were doing their duty although he was possibly the only one having officers point and laugh at him as they left the mess late at night.  How lucky we are to no longer send young men into holes in the ground so we can sleep in peace.
There are holes in my teeth also and the dentist was champing at the bit to extract the big wisdom tooth at the back that broke up some years ago.  The NHS must pay him a decent amount for that!  However it bothers me not, all the nerves were bust long years ago by an Aussie dentist, and I am content with it at the moment.  Such a good dentist but he might not sleep if it does not get done next year.  
Local papers are often full of holes.  Small meaningless stories made to be great headlines.  This week however we saw a good one.  A woman received a letter from the DWP informing her that she was not sick enough to receive benefits.  On the day the letter arrived she died.
This has happened so often under this Tory government, it is difficult to know how many times as correct figures are hushed up but possibly up to twelve thousand people have lost their benefits because they are not 'ill enough' and been dead within a week or two.  If you are Amazon or Starbucks or Vodafone you can dodge billions in tax revenue but if you are just another cog in the wheel this government will chase you to death.  Soldiers die from abuse and lack of care as well as faulty or inefficient equipment, patients are allowed to die slowly in hospitals, social workers fail to care for so many needy who are injured or die and yet nobody cares.  The secular money chasing world has lost compassion, only politically correct ideas can be cared for and if you don't fit then it is not good for you.  We kill children in abortion and hate migrants flooding the land, we can hate paedos and Muslims but so many other wrongs are not just accepted they are positively encouraged. No wonder people are confused about life.
The weekend is here, I can tell by the long line of cars outside my window.  Rush hour on Friday begins about 2:30 as folks race slowly for home, to the supermarket, to collect the kids, to beat the rush and find themselves in the rush.  A weekend of bad television, good cup action and drinks all round for some.   Hopefully your weekend will be worthwhile, enjoyable and make you happy.

I Have Nothing to Say

I have nothing to say.  Nothing worth mentioning has happened, nothing worth noting in the diary.  The world has gone on its way with me ignoring it for the most part and in turn the world has gone out of its way to ignore me.  I ventured into it, a haircut from a nice young lady, a fruitless search for bargains in charity shops, a walk around town looking at the girls shops, a few dirty looks from people practicing to live in London and listening to one neighbour describing the illness of another.  So I saw the world and went back home again.  
There was a ten minute exercise session after hearing a Radio 4 programme on the brain informing me how much exercise improved the mental faculties (don't ask!), and then several gallons of tea to return me to normal afterwards.  I helped one woman find her dead relatives online, after informing her those names mean nothing to us I found they did!  I ironed enough shirts to last a month!
See, nothing happened.
Quite nice after doing too much last week.

I've been ignoring the papers, merely glancing at the headlines, none of which are startling, and feel better because of it.  I did take the opportunity to read blogs, not your lot which I read anyway, the other ones from your other readers.  A journey through them was stimulating to the mind and I found some interesting people.  I must look at some more.  
This is the best of the internet, research which finds answers and new blogs which finds new people worldwide.  I hasten to add these people are not quite up to the standard set by your good selves and will never replace you in my admiration and love (cut the slush! ed.) but it opens new doors and I hope you try likewise.

  
   

Nothing to Say

Nothing To Say

I write this as I wish to write something.  I have nothing to write and nothing to say.  My wizened mind is slow tonight, dull and dreary would be appropriate words, inspiration is lacking and no-one is around to read or care what I write. However my fingers insist I type something and my mind is still gurgling away wishing to write even though it fails to provide energy nor subject.  
Thus I find myself crawling to a halt at this juncture.  I look around, as if late at night I can find creative subjects in the grime engrained curtains or the clothes strewn around the room.  Thankfully the dim light hides everything else or I may write about what lies in those dark corners! The bits of the failed shower gather dust in one corner, a picture frame that refused to stay on the wall another, dust that has hardened somewhat now lies deep on the mantelpiece, possibly it is time for a Spring clean after all?
A lone passing car reminds me of the quiet nature of this town.  Saturday night in the big city, as indeed most other nights, brought constant noise, here we occasionally hear an owl hoot in the distance, a plane very high overhead, a dog cheerfully walking the owner.  Of course when the pubs come out it will be different for a short while, and the weekend supermarket shoppers tail one another for miles down the road polluting the world while grasping their special offers that are rarely special at all.  In the big city lucky people have a park nearby or maybe a garden to remind them of the world underneath all that tarmac.  Out here a five minute drive, an hour at 'rush hour' takes in country views.  Rolling gentle slopes, wide open fields the colours varying with the seasons, trees standing tall after more than a hundred years, even cows and sheep desperate to be partitioned and sold in plastic wrappers throughout the land.  The opportunity to sit at a green lined avenue listening to chirping birds and squabbling squirrels means little to those brought up in such places, it is merely the background to their lives, but for city folks it is breathing afresh, inhaling real air and refreshing the tired weary mind.  Of course not all air is that pure, big cities send their pollution this way quite readily and when farmer Jones adds manure to his land the locals know about it. 
This land has been keeping farmers busy from dawn to dusk for thousands of years, even before farming as such began people harvested the deer, following them across what is now the north sea to Germany and back again.  Crops were farmed probably three thousand years ago and the same fields that saw Iron Age man, Roman villas, Saxon and Norman peasants now provides us similar crops.  Apart that is from the bits we have developed towns and industrial estates on of course! Then war needs meant more space was taken up by airfields and not all of that returned to the farmer.  This explains the planes high above climbing towards Spain and France, Norway and China, taking the masses on holiday or the businessman to his wealth.  Blue skies reveal white lines criss-crossing high above, drifting slowly as they fade defiling the clear blue of the sky.  Drunken revellers seeking the sun fail to notice nor care as they look to the beaches and cheap beer bottles lying ahead.  Their own corruption entices them too much to worry them.
The books piled on the table beside me appear to grow each time I notice them. Crossword books dating back years, quiz books, a bible, Tacitus 'Annuls,' and instructions for long dead electrical equipment form the basis.  I am now afraid to search further in case long ignored letters appear also.  There is the remains of a jam sandwich, a 'piece' as we called it back home, gathering enough mould for enough penicillin to supply the NHS. I will ignore that also.  
Nope, the mind has not woken.  Sloth remains.  Only sleep, and I have had three of those already today, can remedy things now.  Sleep, that strange unconsciousness that takes a third of our lives.  The coma that allows the mind to refresh, it's like when we turn off the computer and switch it back on again and it works!  I can mention some folks who do not appear to do this often enough in my view.  Sleep offers dreams, usually instantly forgotten on waking while the emotions remain.  Can this be a means by which the brain resets itself?  Everybody has them, sometimes filled with the actions of the day often bringing to mind people and places, somewhat confused maybe but clear, from many years ago.  I often dream of a building I lived in, a place I worked in, a dead relative, there appears to be no reason but they are real enough for a few minutes or is that seconds?  Like the need for food and water sleep is one of God's ways of reminding us we are just mortals, not gods ourselves, something we forget all too easily.  Sadly we are not the centre of the world, he is, and only when he is centre of our life, my life, can the world be seen for in reality.  
Look at that, having nothing to say, worn mind, so worn I could not watch the football as it meant little to me, tired body still aching from the exercise three days ago and no inspiration coming through the ether I have managed to misspell more words than normal!  That takes skill!  Enough, I canny see the screen for eyes half closed, which indeed is how they have been all day. 

Yaaawwwn!

Nothing to Say

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Nothing to say

Albert Goodwin, Westminster

Nothing Again.

Too tired after my hard week, too worn out after my day with the niece, too knackered by the bug and too weak after having to eat porridge instead of chips!  
The world it must be said has not noticed.  
I had to drag my weary bulk to the shops to stock up on uneatables like Cottage cheese, nuts and tins of fish.  I really just wanted milk but thought I would gather the stuff anyway.  It was once I got back I realised I got everything bar milk.  Life is no fair.  So I had to drag myself out later for that.  

One thing that drew some limited attention was the practice of taking 'selfies.' This idea appears to thrill tabloid hacks but does little for me.  Take such pics if you wish but why put them in the paper? Why fill facebook with pics of you and your travels?  The sights I wish to see, you I do not!  Especially as you hover between the camera and the building in the background.  Me, myself and I would rather see the building thanks.  I say this because the English queen has apparently been getting annoyed by brats jumping in front of her to do this, not only does it go against protocol, and she is rigid on that, but it is a nuisance. Next time one of her Beefeaters should use that pike thing to remove said pest, that would be a picture worth seeing.

Rangers, that sectarian Glasgow football club, are in trouble again.  Desperately short of cash, overpaying players and manager, the board piling cash into their pockets and the chairman looking for his huge bonus for failing and now it appears the man from JJB Sports bought the rights to rename the ground for a mean £1 some time back.  This means he could insist on naming the ground after his company, as indeed some have done, and upset the fans who in this nation do not like this idea anywhere.  Rangers have it appears been going through the courts in an attempt to buy  out this contract (bought for £1) and so far have spent £25,000 on this endevour.   You have to laugh at the greed inside this club.

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Nothing to Say.

I've searched the papers.  I've looked at pictures, I've stared out the window and I'read others blogs but I still have nothing to say.  Now that the exhibition is up and running and I have merely to continue researching my men there is no news.  
The routine wars ebb and flow, the media builds up nothing as important, the sun goes down early and life goes on but there is nothing to say!  
I got my haircut, I ate badly, I avoided the teeming rain when going to the shop early.  Not much to write about there, bar miserable people you meet during the day.  Funny how when I meet folks they all look miserable but when they pass on they are happy again.  I must have the gift of encouragement, I must practice this more.  The warmth is still in the air as it ought to be, even when the rain falls as it did earlier.  The brats scream and yell in the darkened park, skateboarding in the fenced off skateboard park which is undergoing repair.  No doubt soon the screeching girls, why must they always scream, will be testing 'morning after' outfits.  This area having one of the worst pregnancy rates for stupid girls.  I note the gardeners are ensuring foliage fills the gaps that appear between the trees near the fence at the side.  Blocking area that will save much money from single mum benefits.     
The official exhibition opening is tomorrow night, although it is already open! This means another clean shirt and a bath, that will be the second this week and it is not even Sunday!  The costs are high here, soap and water!
Hours have gone by and nothing has stimulated the mind.  This mind needs stimulation, or as the lass at the museum put it, 'a kick.'  Typical women's approach!  

However I like these girls, they speak my language!

  

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Nothing to Say

So here is a picture of a Highland Coo all dressed up and ready for action.  
The sad truth is that while rising early was on my mind I did indeed awaken at six but fell back to sleep and reawoke at 8:30!  Not only but I awoke exhausted! Why?  By ten I had managed to finish breakfast and half dozed my way through the morning.  It was time to return to the museum before I had done anything, so nothing is done!  What happened?  Nothing!

The museum was once again busy, hundreds passed through, actually only a reasonable number but the kids passed back and forth many times each, and young and old appeared to enjoy their visits.  The boss had a slight mishap when the kitchen cupboard containing the plates gave way and dropped the two boxes of glasses on the floor.  We salvaged 15 out of considerably more. 
Ho hum!   
However by the time I get home I am washed out, nothing is done, and I cannot get the little gray cells to function properly.  The news is the usual bunk, Tony Blair seen as having shoved his nose into dubious happenings, the Westminster government getting 'friends' to frighten Scots into voting 'No' in September, floods fill the land still while Cameron promises money and we trust his promises, and the Ukraine heads towards civil war and it's everybody else's fault!  So nothing to comment on.  There is the Australian arrested for giving Christian leaflets to folks in North Korea of course, he could do 15 years but at 75 he may not be too worried.  He will certainly not get out quickly.  Some things need to be subtly in North Korea, and not when in a small guarded party. 

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Nothing Day Again

I have nothing to say!  The day has been filled with torrents of rain hindering my attempts to walk the streets looking for lost coins so instead I did the washing.  Now how do you make that sound interesting?  You shove it all in the machine, and leave it for an age while it whirs round, remove the sodden pile and hang it up somewhere.  There it remains until dry, or kind of damp I find, and gets ironed (ha!) later.  There, that's interesting innit?  I paid a debt, bought milk and cheap cheese from Tesco, froze while crossing the park, and warmed my feet on the heater.  
Can you take much more of this?  I can't.
There is a pile of things to do noted on the recycled pad beside me.  In fact I just remembered I did one of those.  Mince!  I made mince, with veg, and it sits cooling on the hob.  The taste will be interesting when I get round to it.  Not quite sure what it will taste like, cooking is not so much a boring necessity, it is an experiment!  Who knows what that brown mush will actually be flavoured by?  
The rest of the 'to do' note glares at me.  Rather in the way women often glare when I say things. It is not an unusual glare, at least I often come across it, like that time I used the word 'fat' to a group of women awaiting the arrival of the woman from 'Weight Watchers.'  Man glaring in unison!  They had reason to use that diet organisation however.  
Indeed I was so lacking enthusiasm for anything today I looked up the 'Daily Mail' to see if the world had changed, it had not.  No news of anything important but lots of terror, death, outrage and fear, usual stuff then.  The real world had little news either, repeats of floods, Syria and the like but nothing new to excite pressmen.  The fact that Liverpool easily defeated Everton last night, that Manchester United also won and that the Heart of Midlothian play tonight was all pushed into second place in the 'Sport' section of the 'Today' programme on Radio 4 this morning.  Why?  An England team had won something!  It was merely cricket, and worse just a bunch of lassies winning, but to Rob whatsisname et al this was important news!  Tsk!  Some folks have no understanding of reality I say.
Possibly my feeling a bit light headed today may have helped my lack of interest, it certainly has resulted in two burnt hamburgers, mash spuds and beans for tea, and possibly an early night is called for, after I have listened to the Hearts game on the radio that is.  

Right, let's clean up this dinner....

 
   
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