Monday Morn Sun

The day began brightly, the clouds were red tinged and the sky was blue.  This meant the temperature must be about freezing, and it was.  Having wiped the condensation from the windows, stuffed aged 'hot cross buns' down my throat for breakfast, I switched on the heater and wrapped up.

This was a day where the light tempted me out and the cold tempted me back in.

I remained in.

I worked through another chapter of the book of Amos and wondered how nicely this book fits in with the government of the day.  Both Westminster and Holyrood, and indeed Wales, have corruption at the centre these days.  Being in power is on one hand an opportunity to do good, it is also something people do not like to let go off.  The Westminster power does not appear to have the intellect or political savvy to hold their position, not heled by Boris and Liz obviously.  Nicola has some talent, she ought to be PM not FM, but her weird obsessions may bring her down.  Her gender failure may be too far from Indy for many.  

Next I spent a few minutes pretending to exercise, I will feel the aches in the morning.  And followed this up by dusting!  The stour flew all around, thick clouds filled the house, lost items were recovered, much more exercise was involved, and after this was over I considered hoovering to finish off.  However, instead I made lunch and spent the rest of the day seeking out live pictures from various parts of the world.  I had to, the effort had worn me out.  I realised the bug that hindered my earlier this year was still hanging around.  An underlying weight hindering life.  This has hit the UK hard this year, and while I am quite used to suffering this was for months on end it has come as a shock to all those who used to call me lazy.

I give them no sympathy.

So, I sit smugly here, happy with what has been done, planning tomorrows day, and seeking a decent football game to finish of the day.  As I wait I watch the Blue Tits flitting through the trees, I note the happy attitude that comes with the shorter nights and brighter mornings, and an expectation of Spring soon calling us from afar.  This keeps the news of the Chancellor, multi-millionaire he, who is going to increase our energy prices come April once again.  The Conservatives, the party that cares...

Thurs...Wednesday Drivel

 

Another October morn with sunshine filling the sky.  Notice how 'Ryanair' and other early morn flights have criss-crossed the skies.  Most are landing at Stansted, others are passing over at 35,000 feet on their way too and from the US or China.  None ask me if I wish a lift.  

As it was Thursady I sauntered early around Sainsbury's, then, enjoying the experience of being outside I dumped my treasures at home and walked around to Tesco.  How the rich live!  I was a bit surprised to see some of the Wednesday market stalls sitting there, and slowly dawned the reality that I was a day early again.  However, I managed to purchase lots of things I do not require, as that is what us rich folks do, and more of the little xmas gifts that fill the bag.  

****

Back home, I considered watching the latest Prime  Minister fail at Prime Ministers Questions, but I just could not stand the smugness, the non answers, the bile, even though this one actually looks like a PM.

There can be little doubt that while he will amend many things from what the Muppet left behind, he has ceased one or two, there remains many 'Boris' problems as well as the 'Liz' ones to deal with, some will not end.  

 ****

The gas board have kindly sent me details of a new deal, mine ends in April, and I am wondering what they are up to?  Gas prices have fallen, government aid is working, and they are up to something.  It arrived this afternoon so I have not read it properly but there is a catch, but I know not what it is.  No doubt the blessed elelctric people will now do the same.

 

Storm Liz

 

Summer is still here.  

I realised that at about 3 am when a tremendous clap of thunder brought me to life.  This was followed by the usual downpour hissing across the area.  At first I thought someone had fallen down the stairs, it was that sort of elongated rumble.  However, my interest peaked at this point and I closed my eyes as lightning flashed once again and I retuned to slumber.

I wondered if this storm could be a precursor to the announcement regarding one Liz Truss becoming Prime Minister.  I shall repeat that, 'Liz Truss has been announced as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom!'  Yes, the 0.34 of the population, or those unknowns living overseas who joined the Party just to vote for her, have given us Liz as PM.  

According to Suetonius in his 'Lives of the Twelve Caesars,' it struck me as interesting that when ever an Emperor was born an eagle was seen flying over Rome, lightning struck the Temple of Mars, and a woman gave birth to a horse with three heads.  I wonder if the lightning arrived last night in such a manner?  There has been no reports of eagles and less about strange creatures born to woman, until now at least, but it is worth keeping this in mind.

I noticed a sign on the 'Citizens Advice' centre door, 'Liz Truss PM : EMIGRATE!'

While the two previous PMs were a flop neither was as inept, lazy and possibly treasonous as Boris.  Now e have come one step further down the line.  A woman who's mind changes so often you begin to think she is a woman!  Much has been written by her backing from US billionaires who made their money from fossil fuels, and their right-wing policies are found in much of her scribbles over the years.  There is no doubt she is for the rich and wishes to ensure the cowed population behave as serfs, as she, and many other Tories, clearly intend.  There is a new level of spite and idiocy at the door, this leaves only one question: How long can she last?  I say gone before Christmas, unless she calls an election and wins.

Train at the Station for Boris

I have been searching for steam engines.  You see my grandfather, who died in 1917, before I was born, drove steam engines in the 19th century.  On the census pages for 1881 and 1891 he is described as a steam engine driver, a very skilled operation.  He certainly left home and was living with his sister in Edinburgh opposite the great engine depot at Meadowbank when 15.  His sister had married an engine driver so this made an ideal place to learn.  Eventually, after returning home for reasons unknown, he was found in Edinburgh, growing family with him, and probably, but I remain unclear here, probably worked for the NBR, the North British Railway.  Incidentally, you see the arrogant English owners abuse of Scotland in that name!   He was of course working as a general labourer b y 1901, this was either because of various family problems, his wife ended up in a lunatic asylum and one son died in mysterious circumstances, or he got sacked for the drinking.  I wonder if he went home during his teenage years for similar activity?  He did return to driving with the new Gas Works at Granton.  There he worked the small loco used for moving tender of coal and whatever around the large yards.  He left there we think because of drink.  By this time his wife had died, he had remarried and by 1911 he had lost two more jobs, his wife, his home and his kids.  He lived out his time for 6 years in the workhouse.  The family, with my grandmother, moved to Granton by chance, and he met the kids once a week.    

Why am I blethering about this?

Well I was searching for possible engines he could, maybe, possibly, have driven, and I wondered what he would have thought about the Prime Ministers of his day?  He would have been born under the Premiership of Sir Robert Peel, way back in 1845.  While a young man tasting beer in Edinburgh Lord John Russell, famous for opposing the Corn Laws, and encouraging the Reform Act, would have been exchanged for the Earl of Derby, and while puffing back and forward across Scotland and possibly Northern England he would have witnessed, if he cared, the antagonism of Benjamin Disraeli and the great William Gladstone, who was also the MP for Midlothian at the time.  By the time he was reorganising his family, the eldest daughter really took over the mothers part very early, and settling in to a labouring job the 3rd Marquis of Salisbury was opposing home Rule in Ireland and supporting claiming as much as possible of Africa for the crown, and this while the Boer War of imperialist expansion continued.  Arthur James Balfour declared little of interest at this time, not even commenting in granddad's success at the gas works.  Henry Campbell Bannerman, a man who encouraged free school meals for children, Home Rule in Ireland, and led the Liberals to their last victory in the House in 1906,  he merely snorted when he realised our patriarch had been dumped from another job.  I am sure Henry Herbert Asquith, the last PM grandad would know, often considered drunk while on the front bench, would sympathise, though he never visited the workhouse.

For myself, I was born under the great Clement Attlee, a man who revolutionised the nation in a proper manner, first noticed Harold Macmillan, was old enough to understand Douglas-Home going down, and watching the rise of Harold Wilson, and keeping your eyes on Harold was always a good thing.  Ted Heath, who took us into Europe in the hope of avoiding another war, Callaghan who also had served in one, and then Thatcher of whom the less said the better.  John Major, decent but just a manager unable to cope with the Brexiteers, Tony Blair, who did many good things, all lost when he entered Iraq, and Gordon Brown, another decent man who came too late and was caught out by rising right wing nasties.  Since then we have entered a new world.  Attlee would not comprehend the depth of right wing anti-EU hatred.  Thatcher herself would fail to understand why we left the EU when that is where the money is!  And David Cameron, 'I went to Eton you know,' and Theresa May, (was she ever alive?) leave us with Boris Johnson.

The record for ministerial resignations was six.  As I scribble this Cabinet Ministers, junior ministers, PPS, and various others have been resigning, five on one letter!  By the time you notice this few will be left.  However, unless he fails to find sufficient to form a cabinet Boris can stay, even if he loses a vote of no confidence.  The royal house has little influence today publicly, however, as I understand it , the queen can step in and remove a PM and government in certain circumstances.  This is not one duty she would enjoy, but maybe in the lying PMs case, she might offer a giggle.

5 pm, the resignation total stands at 32.

I will wait a wee while before posting, we may see more yet!

5:14. resignations stands at 35.

5:28.  Count no 36.

Both the newly appointed Chancellor (chancer certainly) and the new Education Secretary have joined the senior MPs delegation in No 10 to tell Boris to go!  That's loyalty.  

17:53 Still only 36.

All awaiting Boris's response to the delegation.

Wednesday Wittering

 

On this day in 1812 the Prime Minister, one Spencer Perceval, was assassinated.   I do not mention this as a suggestion for anyone to take note off by the way, I am just mentioning it in passing.  Security, by the way, has since been tightened somewhat at the House Lobby.  Spencer, a 'run-of-the-mill' Prime Minister had done nothing to upset his assassin except be PM while the gunman tried to get recompense from his trials, though the government as a whole was guilty in the assassin's eyes.  

One John Bellingham was the man responsible.  While in Russia during 1802 he had discovered an insurance scam in operation.  However, Russian corruption has not changed its spots and soon he was serving 5 years in prison on trumped up charges.  Eventually released, he demanded compensation and was ignored.  Back in the UK about 1809 he spoke to his MP and a Treasury official seeking compensation for this injury.  This led nowhere.  Advised to take 'whatever means he thought proper,' Bellingham obtained two pistols, quite easy in those days, and sat by the fireplace in the House of Commons Lobby.

When the PM entered said Lobby Mr Bellingham quietly rose, walked towards him, produced his gun, fired at Perceval's chest and stood quietly awaiting arrest.

The Prime Minister on the other hand fell to the floor and said "I am murdered."  He was not mistaken.  He did not rise again.

Bellingham dd not run, merely informing all those around him that he had been badly treated and Perceval was responsible for this.  However, now that he had found sufficient justice had been done he was satisfied.

The 'Old Bailey' was satisfied that he was not 'insane' as he pleaded, but guilty of willful murder, and thus sentenced Bellingham to hang.

His greiving wife was however, not left alone.  Public money was gathered and she was provided for, especially as within a year she was once again married.    

I spent some time watching the 'West Somerset Railway' today.  This is what today is called a 'heritage line,' but to many of us it is just a Steam Railway, a remembrance of times past.  Several stations here have live camera's available, though apparently not Minehead where I believe the line terminates.  

Any such line deserves respect.  Many were closed under the famous 'Beeching Report' in the 60's, I wonder if this is what happened here?  Watching two steam engines pull around eight renovated coaches in either direction was quite impressive.  The fact that these locomotives, not always young when bought, had to be paid for by donation, renovated along with coaches, station buildings and track, and all by many part time volunteers is very impressive.  Remember also that such railways cannot cut corners, all British Rail legislation must be obeyed.  Operation at all times must be according to BR best practice, anything else, apart from not being true to life, can be dangerous.  Inspections are tough and costly, each engine must have the boiler replaced every ten years, and that is not just a big job but a very expensive one.    

I had the live shot from Williton on in the background, and it gave me a very good idea of what working on such a railway in past times must have been like.  Certainly there would be more traffic, including goods vehicles, and very possibly a yard at the rear with a large hut and a couple of lines, plus space for coal to be deposited.   

Usually such stations had a Station Master, a ticket clerk, possibly a signalman if they had a yard, maybe in larger stations a shunter engine with driver and fireman also.  There would be two or three porters, and as the station was open most of the day I expect there were two shifts to operate.  Today, at Williton I saw one Station Master, a signalman, and two "cough" not so young porters moving noticeboards and talking to passengers.  Who knows how many volunteers work at the busier weekends or during the summer? 

It appeared to me working on such a line in the past would not be a bad job, though possibly not making the worker rich.  In between trains there may be long periods of silence, broken only by various duties, including at many stations tending flowerbeds, while preparing for passengers and trains to arrive and depart.  Such silence today I found enjoyable.  I suspect that when younger I would be anxious for adventure, now however, I loved the silence while we awaited the arrival of the next train.  Winter time in such exposed areas might be silent also, but I suspect not be so much fun.

Railwaymen in the past did tend to remain loyal to the company, though not all companies treated them well.  Often men followed fathers, and their sons followed them.  A good secure job, with possible promotion or movement elsewhere, and a guaranteed employment for life, after all nothing could overtake the railway, could it?

I notice someone has already claimed the £184 million from the Lottery win last night.  This means nothing to me as you know, though I have checked with all my family, friends, acquaintances and people passing my door, just to be sure it is not them.  I would not wish anyone to be ruined by such sudden wealth...