Wednesday Grump!

 

Yesterday morning I looked through my grubby window at the sun glinting on the rusting leaves opposite.  A short individual hastened by supermarket shopping in mind, dog walkers appeared, the dogs once unleashed racing to meet their friends, tails wagging happily, slowly behind them the owners gossipped about the same gossip as the day before.  Children meanwhile were being dragged unwillingly to school, some ensuring they kicked every fallen leaf, others annoying mum by asking the question "Why?"  As the sun broke through the gray clouds the world appeared a happy place.

This morning no sun appears, instead rain continues to fall, as it has done all night, drenching the park leaves scattered across the paths.  Mums, hidden under umbrellas to protect their hair, urge the children on as they walk to school, concerned less with their education, more with avoiding spoiling the new haircut.  Dogs meet happily, owners less keen.  The 'moderate' breeze (The language used by weathermen requires improvement I say) shakes the raindrops from the branches and takes the loosened leaves with it across the faces of those passing by.  Even the traffic appears slower, rain does not usually slow these drivers down, yet less traffic is heard and that less keen on racing than normal.

Wind and rain, the one condition that postmen fear.  I look forward to paper mache being deposited through the door later today.  

 

                                            Gaurdian
 

 The sulk has done it again.  His bully boy ways, well known in Eton, has seen him offer £60 million - he says - to Manchester to do what he tells them.  The Manchester mayor has told him what he really wants and so Boris has sulked, remember he was roundly abused the last time he went there, and held back nearly £40 million of that as punishment for disobedience.  The inefective pandemic policy that has failed throughout the nation, especially in England, continues with a mixed lockdown in various places, none of which are required by local NHS operators.  Once again Dominics view, supported by mixed scientific advice, encouragement from money men whom no-one knows, and Boris's sheer incompetence rules the day.  Manchester standing up and disagreeing with Boris has sent him into a sulk, this man is Prime Minister!  It must be remembered that Manchester supported Boris in the last election, many up north turned away from the Labour party and voted Tory!  This was to support Brexit and remove the black immigrant from the country, but we are not supposed to say that.  Here we see how much regard Boris has for those voters.

 

Afternoon, the rain still rains, only those who must go out do so.  I remain inside wasting my life.  So far I have downloaded the census returns for the town from 1841 - 1911, we are in fact two towns and the other one's census will be downloaded soon.  Doing this I was struck by the confused manner of census operation and how the town has grown every ten years.  People talk as if in the past the townhad always been the same, they are ignoring the constant changes that have occurred, no town stands still, no town has 'always been like this' until now.  Growth throughout the 19th century and into the 20th, all this ended after the last war when items made here were being produced cheaper in the far east, the town slowly faded at that time.  People here consider life was better when they were young in the 50's and in many ways they are correct, however much of that lies in their personal memories and forgets the many fears and woes of youth.  Those pictures in old photographs looked back to a better day while grumbling that kids today do not know how lucky they are.  It was ever thus, these are the 'Good old days.'

 

 

 

Post, Rain, Coal Mines,

 

 

The weathermen said 'Rain in afternoon.'  "Good!" said I, and before noon wandered down to the Post Office with my two packets.  The sun shone the sky was blue, it was even warm on the far side of the street, so I crossed over, slowly these days annoying the motorists, and wandered happily into the shop.  I was in so quick I forgot to put on my mask and risked a £100 fine.  I told the sweet Asian lass at the counter (I only go there because she always smiles at me) I was Boris Johnson's dad, so she let me off.  £2:14 paid, change pocketed, xerox paper bought, I was down to my last sheet, and off I went back home.  Naturally the sun had gone, the sky was dark gray, the rain hammered down, and I was fair drookit by the time I got home.  I am still wet now, my hair cold and clammy.  Was the cloud waiting for me?  Could it be the BBC had got it wrong?  Before noon and the rain was falling, now, after one pm the sun is out again and I am still cold!  It is a good job I am not one to complain, that's all I can say.

 

I just typed in 'Freefotos rain' on 'images' and found many excellent free fotos.  At least they appear free and I am making use of them.  Very useful when you do not get out as much as you would like. I had to get out this morning to post the family details I had been looking into.  My mothers side were all miners from Fife, and it appears that between the early 1600s and almost 1800, some say much later, miners were enslaved to the Lairds who ran the mines.  Coal being important, using trees for firewood banned, the Lairds ensured worers were available for this horrid, hard, dirty, dangerous work by passing laws forcing them, and their descendents, to work for them in their mines.  Moving location was outlawed, wages low, danger to life high.  Add to this small cottages, not always healthy, poor diet, no NHS, and lots of children, it can be seen that attitudes towards coal owners would not be based on love!  

I note that not only do my forefathers first appear in the East Neuk of Fifearound 1620 but they marry people who also cannot move on.  This does not help chasing up relatives, especially with the Scots habit of giving one child grandad's name.  So we have Colin and Robert repeated endlessly over generations, not helped by other family lines doing similar.  The Scottish Mining Website gives details of many accidents, about 5 deaths a month in Scots pits, during the 19th century alone.  The uncles I knew in Cowdenbeath, realeased from slavery by their time, would not allow their sons to go through what they endured.  All got apprentiships somewhere else. 

My grandfather had 11 children.  Two died early, and he went through 3 wives to get them, they too died early.  Not unusual in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.  On those few occasions I have had to work physically hard I see it bears no relation to men working with pick and shovel down a mine in which the coal face may be less than 2 feet high!  The dust, physical difficulty, bad, uncaring management, and low wage makes it difficult for me to complain at the work I have been involved with.  

My mother had a story concerning a family member, possibly a brother of my granddad, who became a manager in a pit.  The family cut him off as if he had died!  This was a crossing over to the other side that could not be forgiven, and never was.

 

Dreicher Friday

 Dreicher Friday indeed!

Trapped by rain teeming down until after lunch.  More of this to come, lasting for several days they say.  Not doing much for the cricket or indeed anyone else.  Many paces near and far are having a wet time, many a car trapped in streams of water it appears.  

I risked a walk this afternoon, dressed for the rain, searching the new type pawn shops.  Last week my niece and her daughter, the car mechanic, drove up to Wester Ross with the dog for a few days away.  White sand beaches, no other people in sight, the Rottweiler happy paddling in the shallows chasing a ball, or anything else that moved.  With an Eagle soaring overhead, and they would quickly identify it, I suggested my great niece got herself a better camera so she could catch pictures of such, she has the talent.  I also suggested her dad bought one for her, much harrumphing in background, not just because he was left behind while they went north!  

So I checked Ebay first, then wandered into our two modern pawn shops, actually there is a third, a bit suspicious that one but I forgot all about him, and searched the cameras there hoping for a bargain.  I was shocked at how little they had in stock.  Usually there are an abundance of cameras today there were none bar a couple of old film cameras worth less than the £10 price tags.  Only one, too expensive, camera was suitable and so that was out.  I was surprised but the lass in one told me how bad things had been.  People are not buying, nor are they selling old phones or ipads.  Even the pawn shops are struggling, how much worse can it get.  I noticed both shops had only two employees, the larger shop usually has half a dozen.  When such shops suffer how can the rest cope?

So it was back to cricket before the rain comes on and stuff my face with yesterdays leftovers again.

Tuesday Twaddle

The day is dreich, rain much of the morning and little fun to be had although these two on the neighbours roof appear content.  I wandered around Sainsburys attempting to find things, they have moved everything for reasons unknown, and enjoyed the battle with old men driving trolleys they did not understand, old women barging into you as if you did not exist, ignorant women gossiping where you wished to obtain things, they then glare at you when you insist they move is a straightforward manner, crowds desperate for goods they already have too much off and little me in the middle of this.  A mad rush next Monday or Tuesday for the goods that will cover Christmas, I expect that if any store opens on Boxing Day the same people will be back in again filling the trolley while grumbling about lack of cash. 
I meanwhile was merely concerned to meet the Amazon man who attempted to contact me yesterday.  I found him today, blocking the pavement and struggling with the ipad type computer that requires a heavy thump to work properly.  Interestingly his had a crack on the screen and after his fifth attempt to get the screen to change I understood why.  Poor man was trying his best.  As he was delivering a bottle of 'Highland Park' whisky all the way from Orkney they now insist my date of birth is recorded, just in case kids drink it I suppose.  This took longer than driving all the way from Bulgaria where I deduce he came from, his screen had Cyrillic writing, and Russians are all living of Putin's money so I suspect Bulgarian is his nationality.  Eventually the deed was done, he passed on his way with his white van and 500 more drops across Essex to deliver, the rain and ipad not helping. I know how he feels, I have been there, and I sympathise with him and all those others racing around crowded streets for little pay.
I failed to tip him right enough...

Monday Mumping

Forcing myself out to the Saturday market for an urgent visit to Tesco, what kind of a fool forgets bread the day before? I found myself caught in the rain.  Naturally after I got home the "Passing shower" as the man on the radio warned us from lasted until then.  Shortly after dripping my way home and seeking out the 'big coat' for winter blue sky appeared.  This did not improve my mood.  I met the postman on the way back, he also sought out the weather man early on, all postmen do, and was not happy with his forecast.  Usually I must say the BBC get this right but on occasion it goes wrong.  As indeed did the postman's opinion of the weatherman.   

With the sun dying in the afternoon I had to venture out again for those last minute presents.  The main items have been dealt with long ago and the small things for little people or the occasional gift these have taken much longer.  Eventually, thanks to 'Poundland' I managed to complete the job - or so I thought as when I began to scribble on here I remembered another!  I think I will go back to the old idea of falling out with people in late November which leads to reconciliation after the new year.  That way saves much spending!

This morning, after a Sunday off, watching three football matches and sitting around like a slob,  I woke feeling almost human again.  As I ventured through from the 'west wing' I began to list the few jobs requiring attention, the tidying up of the mess, the last card to post and paying in to the bank on Christmas cheque received.   Note that, paying in!
As I considered the options in the dark, dank room I stepped on my glasses that somehow found their way under my feet.  Now irreparable I had to add 'Specsavers' to my day.  This has been coming for several months now and I kept putting it off as I hate such things as eye tests.  These are never satisfactory, something is always not quite right, and it is always my fault.  However this was now out of my hands.
So I posted the last Xmas card, I bet there is another tomorrow, I paid the cheque in via a machine at the bank, well on the second attempt with the teller girls giving me that look, and wandered around to a nice young blonde in Specsavers who treated me as she does her granddad and booked me in for Wednesday.  
To get their I had to wear the 'other pair.'  These are the tinted glasses I got for the hot summer days which fill the middle months of the year.  I never needed these while in Edinburgh!  So, in spite of fearing I would look too 'cool' for this town I wore them under the grey skies above.  Nobody noticed, except when I fell off pavements.  
I must say it is good to feel almost human again.
Almost.

What is he up to?
Boris has given his friend Dominic Cummings the right to change the way the Civil Service operates.  Hmmm.  Dominic has long wished to fiddle with this and other aspects of the nation, the monarchy, the constitution and so on.  Also how parliament works.  Hmmm this could be interesting.  Rumours abound, none of them healthy, and we approach a situation under Boris such as we have not seen for a long time, if ever.   The voters who wished for an end to EU rule, control of fishing, better farming, sovereignty and no more black people coming into the nation are about to get a shock, not just from the bills they will pay under the new NHS!

 

Stupid Man in the Dark Rain

"Only a stupid person goes out into the dark, in the rain.  Especially when there is no need to do so"

You are talking to a stupid person. 

It crossed my mind that as darkness falls shop lights stand out, go take pictures.  Great idea!  There was no rain when this thought came to me.  However, out I went, into the downpour, cheerfully splashing through the puddles that arise on pathways that are supposed to be flat but are anything but.  Crossing the park meant meeting many such puddles and in the morning I suspect many an individual will grumble loudly as they walk the dog before the skies turn to gray.

As the 'rush hour' had ended, much improved by an accident at the roundabout that ceased almost all movement for an hour, much hot air in the atmosphere as people made their very slow way home, as folks had mostly gone and the rain drove others indoors the streets were quite empty.  This was helpful.

  

I could have remained wandering for a while and ventured down to the big church where the local candidates, including Mr Cleverley, a Tory who does not live up to his name but has reached cabinet level, is appearing.  This goes against the grain for Boris who I note has been replaced at Channel 4 TVs Leaders debate by a melting block of ice set in a Conservative Party symbol.  Boris is not keen on meeting people who ask questions.  Andrew Neil at the BBC has interviewed two leaders, a third on the way, but Boris cannot make a date?  His own constituency has not seen him for a while and he refuses to meet at their local debate.  Possibly he ought to take up running, he is good at that.

However there is a good chance he will lose at Uxbridge, maybe he wishes to lose?

  

Listening again to the Beatles 'Rubber Soul' album I was struck by the passing of time.  In 'You won't see me' there is the line 'When I call you up your line's engaged.'  A reminder of the time when to stop an incoming call you took the phone of the hook.  That does not happen today.  I suppose what they call 'voicemail' takes over or just ignoring the call, numbers of callers often displayed these days.  It just made me think how long ago this tremendous album was made.   December 1965 it appeared, long before we were born, yet it remains a great album, I think George claimed it was his favourite.  I read in the dreadful online 'Daily Express' that John thought the 'White Album' best, mostly because Paul disliked it as he was not in charge!  Paul preferred 'Sergeant Peppers' in which he was in charge.  Hmmm... Ringo preferred the second side of 'Abbey Road,' but I am not sure what he thought of the first, "Peace and Love," probably. 

Standing in the shop doorway I was a wee bit tempted to enter the 'Swan' but as it appeared only three people were making use of this recently re-opened pub I deferred.  That spot is where the market began in 1199 with a variety of locals dropping stuff in that area and trying to flog it to one and all.  King John was pleased as he got the taxes from it.  At some time a pub arose, when I cannot discover, but round the back a later addition is dated 1590 but whether it was a pub or a dwelling for one of the rich I know not.  I think myself the house came first and the pub later, it does not look like a success at the moment.

The problem with social media is that it does not go away.  Whereas in times past it was difficult to find something written in a newspaper or said privately in a pub or even at a public meeting, a search of past papers takes time, nothing can be proved in 'pub talk' and things said at meeting are difficult to obtain conclusive evidence about, today anything said can be fund quite easily.  So, daily we are finding candidates from all parties being hounded out because of things said many years ago in the press or on social media, no wonder so many false names abound online!  Boris apparently claiming single mothers produce poor quality children is a case in point, his child, the one he ignores and pretends does not exist, is now all over the social media, but not the Tory press, I wonder why?

I must go and delete my history...

I am not convinced by the sparkling town Christmas lights.  This does not reflect a booming economy.  Or indeed a council or town centre willing to spend money to encourage visitors.

It has been mentioned that Trump is visiting troops in Afghanistan, telling them the Taliban want a deal.  It may never cross his mind what the troops think of his visit, privately.  They can now tell the folks back home they have sat near the President of the United States, many relatives will ask "Where was your gun?"

"TAXI!" 

Time for home, this rain gets everywhere, even in my pockets...

 

Protest the Rain in Spain...

With monsoon like rain teeming down I was forced, last night, to walk miles in the rain to attend, under compulsion, the St Paul's men's meeting 'SPAM.'  This spiritual gathering, in the Liberal Club, occurs every month, it is a crime to miss it.  Having no wish to be forced to sit on the 'Cutty stool' and be preached at by the prelate for an hour concerning my sin of not obeying I attended, in spite of the rain coming in through the holes in my worn out shoes.
As the gathering progressed we discussed the NHS, the Great War, painting and decorating according to the wife's instructions, the Holocaust, the use of metres rather than feet and inches, all the while attended cheerfully by the barmaid attendant of the premises.  To enable discussion nourishment was provided, 60/-, 70/- and 80/- was noticed and indeed the spirit was abundant in one quarter also.  These short get togethers bring about a feeling of 'team spirit,' a binding of personalities, a warmth of companionship and a question as to the genuineness of the prelates insistence that today was 'Buy the Priest a Pint' day.  I hope he got home all right...  
These rich men, 40 years of paying into a pension has paid dividends for some!  My £10 a week from the NHS pails into significance besides them.  This also enabled them to ensure a wife was given driving lessons so she could collect them after the meeting had ended, the end coming when one wife arrived and threw us out, thereby proving her worth and his displeasure.  
I sloshed my way home in the dark, fumbled my way upstairs and collapsed in a warm spiritual contentment.

Guardian

While the media concentrates on Trump's latest farce, the Turks invading Kurdistan, less attention is given to the Spanish 'Franco like' approach to Catalan independence.  The English media play this down implying the Spanish are doing the correct thing, indicating their willingness to do the same to Scotland, and even worse is the lack of criticism of this disgraceful jailing of Catalan politicians who dared to separate  from Madrid. 
While the EU leaders are quick to condemn the Turks under their somewhat desperate leader Erdogan, they have said nothing regarding the Spanish inquisition.  One Scots MEP spoke in the European Parliament but nothing has come of that as far as I can see.  Riots followed the 13 year sentence handed down by the Spanish 'Judge Jefferies' and I suspect these may continue for a while. It may indeed be a proper referendum next time, and where will Spain be then?  Sensitive political handling is required, Spain has not offered much inclination that that in recent years.  Fear of the nation splitting, Franco's memory and the division that leaves, short sighted politicians all combine to offer an unstable future which ham fisted handling will not ease.

Bumbling Boris has been told to fix things by midnight tonight.  The question is, who will he sell out to get himself an agreement - if he gets an agreement?  Does he care, will it happen, will it go on....?

At last the Met is doing its job.  The children and fantasists are being removed from the streets, roads are being opened, and London returns to its normal terribleness.  What has been achieved?
Nothing!
Police costs have mounted, vast number on overtime and all to be paid.
Crime risen around London and probably much of that not reported as there is no-one to report it to, they are all in central London confronting men dressed as Brussel sprouts!
Streets blocked and much hindrance to daily traffic, many small businesses losing money.
And the environment effect?
None.
Planes still fly, taking the celeb protesters home.
China still builds faulty Nuclear power stations and faultier cola fired ones.
India does no stop kicking Muslims and Christian around to turn of their smoking power stations.
Trump continues...well that's a big environmental health risk!
The USA continues to allow polluters to buy Presidents and candidates.
So what has the protest movement achieved?
Nothing.
There is a grown up way to protest, this was not it.
Lock them all up!

Rain!

I am supposed to be out this afternoon and its raining.
The weather girl, the one who refuses to come and do my ironing, cheerfully informed us the rain would pass over 'late tonight,' but cheerfully added that it will be 'back tomorrow.'
Nasty things women!
A male weatherman would have ensured sunshine for the weekend.
Bah!

'Plusnet' Speed dropped recently from around 57mps to just under 30.  I was not amused.
This still gave a workable speed but I am paying for the lot and wish to obtain all of it, even if not required. 
I contacted them via the site, a response came, then nothing for a week!
I contacted the 'Plusnet Help' on Twitter and soon had a reply.
At their end there was no fault, indeed they claimed I could get 72!!!
So he offered a plan.
By making use of the Ethernet cable I tested again and lo and behold all returned to normal, right up to just over 57 mps again.
I was intrigued how this use of a cable could sort this problem.  What caused it?  I may never know.
Still, it is now fixed and if he rain stops in 20 minutes I may leave and go to the 50th anniversary party of the St Paul's Church.  That is, 50 years since it became an independent parish.
Church folks will do anything for a nosh up.
It does mean I miss some football however...

Boring Tuesday

I was disturbed early this morning by a message on my ansafone informing me the appointment with the 'Health Check' lady was cancelled as she was 'unhealthy.' 
"I have wasted time having a bath," thought I," I could have left that to the weekend after all." 
So I continued using the old socks and vest and lazed about the house finding lots of things to leave for another day.  This included the difficult link in the family history that took me 48 hours to figure out.  The answer was of course right in front of me!
Having avoided the health check I decided to take advantage and change the diet again and see if the extra weight that has appeared again might disappear by the time I see her indoors.  Fruit now appears delightful though for a while after several choice portions I wondered if I did the right thing...
I checked out Tesco for light foodstuffs, apart from the Bakewell Tart that fell into my basket, so I kept it as it might be broken.  I noticed a long queue at the 'Costa Express' coffee machine and wondered if the word 'Express' was a suitable term to use.  Later I heard that today all such machines were FREE and that explains the queue.  In various parts much grumbling and complaining was heard as 1st world problems reared their heads.  The FREE coffee machines had run out!  Despair and anguish all around.  I feel for these people...
Then I paraded around town watching the clouds above gathering for a get together.  The began to look menacing as I crossed the park.

I was right!  
They menaced me on the way home and began to drench the world as soon as I got in.  Thunder gently clapped above, (Can thunder gently clap?)Lightning flashed and rain teemed down heavily for quite a while.  It was seen that the BBC had promised this on the website and they got it spot on.  Thunder, Lightning and rain they said and that is what we got, lots of it.  Car drivers did not appear to ease the speed outside my window but they are in a hurry to avoid the inevitable accident down at the roundabout.  Possibly that may be the reason there are so many accidents, but car drivers do not think that way.

The latest Boris wheeze, which he now says is 'out of date' is to put custom posts, 5 or 10 miles either side of the Border in Ireland.  This later became, 'only on the Republic side of the border.'  I think we can ask if he and his advisor's, Dominic and Carrie, are actually mentally ill?  Could it be that they have taken too many opium tablets to keep themselves going?  Could it be they are just daft?  Do they neither care or understand the situation in Ireland?  Does Boris think Nanny will fix it?
Boris is still trying to shake off Jennifer, a US lass who he managed to gift £150,000 of taxpayers money to for her 'business.'  She has hopped it to the US because off Brexit!  How did she managed to get cash from Boris I wonder?
Allowing for the Conservative Conference which is driving them to sleep, isn't it interesting how Michael Gove is keeping remarkably quiet these days?  He does appear and toe the party line on occasion but he is very quiet for him.  Is this orders?  Or is he awaiting the inevitable 'slip up?'

Now I'm not one to complain...but..

Does this rain ever stop I wonder...?

Up the Old Railway

It was quarter to six in the morning, the sun shone from behind the trees in the east, the wood pigeons sat bleary eyed on the fencing staring into nowhere, I climbed aboard the dirty, ramshackle bike and headed west.
Having filled the tyres with fresh air the day before I was prepared for the journey.  I had not bothered to check the gears, brakes or anything else as I knew all would be well, at first I was wrong, the gears took a while to remember what to do.
I passed through the market centre dodging the early Burger vans setting up for the Saturday Market.  The market is indeed an ancient one beginning in 1199 when the Bishop of London, who had inherited the land from the Theign Athelric, got permission from King John by promising him taxes could be raised this way, John agreed and also agreed to a similar market in Chelmsford which more or less exists today.  The cattle and sheep have been replaced with Burger vans, fruit and veg stalls, and on monthly occasions a variety of items produced in a desperate fashion to reinvigorate the town.  Lowering the rates on shops might help but the council see that as a bad idea.
Peddling down the High Street, another new invention in medieval times, I find the way very rough. A while back the road was relaid using red bricks and looked marvellous, since then buses and vans running over its length have turned it into a glacial like mountains range, cycling is harder here in town than in the old railway.  The road from London crosses Braintree where it meets 'Stane Street' running from Colchester west.  Whether it was the wealth produced by the market or the Bishop deciding to reroute the road in favour of his dwelling on, appropriately, Chapel Hill, is unclear but this new way became the High Street.  Next door to the shop on the corner, the blue fronted one, lies an ancient house which has served as a hotel of sorts for some years.  The owner once told me a wooden pillar in the house had been dated to, I think, 1387 AD, which indicates the ages behind some of the shop fronts.  Most now have Victorian or more recent fronts but behind that lies ancient years and memories.

Slipping, and I mean slipping, past the church which has stood for almost a thousand years, probably on the base of a Saxon wooden edifice, and the houses nearby cover what were Roman graves, I head for the traffic lights on the old London Highway.  I note on old documents they referred to a road as a highway at all times.  Mr MacFarlane would be happy on this once dirt track wandering through the woodlands heading on a pilgrimage to Bury St Edmunds.  Edmund died 869 AD so such pilgrimages continued until Henry VIII removed them in religious zeal, so he could marry again.  A busy road for many years.
At the lights few realise that to our right stood an Iron Age settlement.  In the gardens round about the occasional grave can be found if you dig deep enough, usually Iron Age, occasionally a family argument.  Not wishing to ponder this I continue past the Victorian houses which appeared as wealth grew and farmland was bought out and turned onto the pavement in a bid to beat two early morning joggers (and they needed to jog) to the old railway line, the 'Flitch Way.'

There was of course no real requirement to build this railway line, joining Braintree to Bishops-Stortford, the line from Braintree had connected to the Liverpool Street line since 1848 but the railway company was afraid that their line from London to Cambridge might be compromised by a competitor running from London through Bishops-Stortford to Norwich, the answer was to run a line across their plans and so this line came to be in 1869, after the usual squabbles, usually about money. 
The public came for a while however after the Great War lorries took away much of the freight and charabancs took the public leaving them almost at their doors while the railway line was often a mile from the villages themselves.  By 1952 the last train ceased and twenty years later freight also failed and the rails were removed.  Hard work by the Rangers, that is Essex Rangers who maintain the ground not a football team, has enabled the way to be a perfect rest from town life.  Those who plan to place over 500 hundred houses alongside the way require removal to Afghanistan in many folks opinion.

  
Having spent so much time indoors I was happily surprised by the verdant way as I passed.  The Rangers had maintained the way so well it was a corridor of green all the way up.  Funny how at this time of the year the colours disappear and green and white become the main draw.  Only a handful of colourful plants were noted, most were white flowers. 
The picture shows part of the land that a local developer wishes to change into housing to his advantage.  Several hundred houses could replace this view, much to everyone's disgust.  I can understand the farmer wishing to cash in, farming is not a great winner and Brexit brings no guarantees with it so I understand his wish to sell out.

I think this is the farmer who wishes to sell the land.  The future for such as he is not clear and it is understandable if they will seek other revenue.  I note the horse and the gymkhana material to the side which is new.  Further up there were four young ponies chasing each other around their field happily and I would imagine they will spend time this week carrying little Tabitha and her friends over the jumps.

I must be at least a year or more since I rode up here.  The weather was wonderful as I headed up the slope, only one old lass being overprotective to her ageing dog was to be seen.  The air was filled with the scent of lush foliage and I breathed deeply as I rode.  There again I have to breathe deeply when on the bike, puffing like the wee tank engines that one crawled up the slope at 25 mph overtaking the likes of me with little effort.  It was wonderful to be out this far and being empty with even the bypass traffic lessened at this time there was a kind of silence filled only by bird song and rabbits rustling through the undergrowth.   

While installing the railway and the new station the engineers had to build the new bridge.  The road until this time crossed the line, it still does, but it was felt that it was better a bridge went up to enable people safely to cross and avoid holding up all the horse and carts desperate to rush through their day.  Houses were being built on the other side and a new road was put in.  In keeping with the standards of English villages life, the street through the village was called 'The Street,' so the new street was given the name 'New Road,' a name it keeps to this day.  The road that led to the school, now converted into very expensive housing, retains the name 'School Road.'  This however was far enough for me today so I turned the bike around and slowly trundled down the still quiet slope.

I stopped occasionally on the way down to listen to the birds singing but discovered silence each time.  It appears they were watching me carefully and only sang when I had gone.  The rabbit holes that have existed half way up for as long as I have been here were empty, not that I looked in, but I wondered about the life a rabbit has deep down underground all his life.  Underground in safety I suppose as there were rabbits to be seen but quick to run for it when I passed.

Jemima here had been sitting chomping leaves when I appeared.  Her friend had no hesitation in running but she is either brave or stupid enough to wait until I had taken her picture before she moved.  How do I know this is a she, well can you prove me wrong?

Very few brightly coloured plants now, the rabbits must have been busy.  The predominate colour is now white.  Do the wee beasties prefer this?  Does this attract them at this time of year?

Canny mind what this is called but it was abundant today.  All along the way there was verdant greenery with this plant filling in the spaces.  

The summer weather (is it summer yet?) never fails to surprise.  While I was attempting and failing to capture the sunshine behind me a large black cloud was forming and hiding itself behind the trees.  

At the bridge, where my lack of fitness made me get off and push both ways up the slope leaving me feeling so guilty about this that I refuse to tell Dave in case he cuts me off, I stopped to attempt a picture of the light rainbow.  Not too bad an effort and a rare sight for me.  I did not hang about as I realised another cyclists hint is 'always carry a cap' as rain will fall.  I knew it would not rain and was naturally drookit by the time I got home.  

   
Raindrops falling while the sun shines blindingly ahead of me.  Not a great picture but indicates the rain at this time.  One hundred yards down the road, when I got home, the rain stopped.

A delightful morning, home for three sausages, three egg omelette, and two rolls left from earlier in the week, almost fresh enough.  Then back to bed!  So glad I am fit enough to travel a just a few miles on the bike, hopefully this continues.