Museum Duty

So, I thought before I die and my niece placed all my work in the bin, I would place some of the info on the Great War that I have collected over the years with the museum, in case others wished to research that event or those involved therein.  At least appeared a good idea during the week, however, when it came to delivering the thing to the museum I found the effort required to wander five minutes down the road somewhat lacking, and my healthy lettuce, cheese and 'Happy Eggs' omelette for breakfast did not encourage me to move further than my seat.  

By ten-thirty the sun was shining outside, it rarely shines indoors, and I dragged my bulk from the chair and headed down the road.  

The sun may shine but the wind was chilly still which meant that Englishmen all around were wearing shorts.  This is normal round here, and not a Scottish thing.  Up north people understand the weather and do not throw away the big coat until it is actually warm, not just when it looks warm.  Men in light jackets taking dogs to the park, eyes bright and faces full of eagerness, the dogs not the men, passed offering a cheerful 'Good Morning,' the men, not the dogs.  

At the museum I found the woman in charge trying to avoid me, but failing.  I explained my visit, signed the form she demanded I sign, found my handwriting does not work thanks to the use of this laptop, and left my info in the Great War to gather dust in the vaults.

The present exhibition in the museum concerns toys from the past.  I did not look all around but there appeared to be more toys for girls than boys, possibly because the boys have broken most of theirs or maybe still retain them?  I was kept awake by a three year old doing what three year olds do in Toyland, crashing everything to the ground all around them.   There were a few in, enjoying watching toys from their past more than the kids were playing with them.  I saw none that suited me, but we were poor, and we suffered much loss...

Foolishly I decided to hobble home via the Saturday market.  At the first stall I fingered the pillows on offer and spent £5 on two 'Hotel Pillows' that BHS sold for £40.  (BHS?)  Anyway, I paid £5 which was more than enough for two pillows.  I have been meaning to replace my ever thinning pillows for some time.  I read that pillows ought to be changed every two years and thought I must look into this, so here I am, some dozen years later actually doing so.

No more spending, no other stall was going to tempt me, and none did.  

However, I passed the local butcher, a very good shop indeed, and accidentally fell inside and obtained a couple of pounds of real sausages, as opposed to what the supermarkets sell, for a mere £10:93.  Did I say 'mere?'  Anyway there are several meals there and one trio of such has sufficed for lunch.

Now, being Saturday, it means football takes priority...

Friday Fussing

The idea that the drone flying above Gatwick was a government sponsored scam to take peoples minds of the House closing down for Christmas while the Brexit disaster looms above keeps coming to mind.  The 'eco-warrior' the police claim they are looking for may well be a member of her majesties forces following orders, or is it just me?  I am tempted to think that if this drone was a nuisance it would be easy enough to bring in an army 'Apache' helicopter, many of them pass over us here, and I am convinced these guys would quickly and efficiently dispose of the bad by, this was not done you will note.  If it is ISIS or one of their followers you would expect it to drop bombs and they to make a claim of some sort by now, they have not done this.  It could indeed be a middle class 'eco-warrior' playing games and thinking himself clever no matter how distraught those who lose vast sums of money or miss out on Christmas trips abroad suffer.  Protest that causes such problems is not to aid the people it is merely to make a name for the drone pilot.  I wonder if hanging him upside down from lampposts is legal...?

  
It looks a lot like sausages for Xmas dinner this year.  I went to the proper butcher in town and obtain £15 worth and am about to put some in the freezer.  The idea is that these expensive sausages will contain meat, taste hopefully added to them also.  On Monday I will visit the shops again for the last bits.  I mean we have one day where all shops close and if I don't stock up I will starve like so many other people appear to be afraid of doing at the moment.  Maybe I ought to buy yet another dozen bottles of beer just in case I have a visitor...

While looking at this tree through tired eyes I could see a face in there, can you?
I am wondering whether to send it to the 'Daily Mail' and see if the new editor will print this?  He has been trying to take his readers minds of his support for remain' by filling the paper with royal or celeb clickbait, the girls and Beckham appearing to be among his favourites, or he thinks his readerships favourites.  It seems to be working.  The fascist fraternity are gnashing their teeth at him while threatening all and sundry, the royal followers are revealing their dark hearts and in many a sad longing for a dead princess which calls them to hate people whom they do not know of whom some are jealous and others just inadequate.  It's all very depressing really. 

The shortest day is upon us.  Spring will be around the corner from tomorrow, weather permitting.  The nights will get shorter, the sun be seen more often and life will be brighter for us all, hopefully.