A Storm in Syria

We are enduring another storm with a silly name today, Storm Darragh!  Winds blow things across the west of the country, while we endure strong gusts and rain.  This is not to bead here but I remain indoors.

Once again graphic warnings were made, not to avoid catastrophe but to ensue no politician or weatherman is blamed for not warning of a storm.  If he fails a storm arises and they don't like that, especially when it is a 'Daily Mail' fake outrage storm.

Once upon a time we were warned a storm was approaching, it is December after all, and we sat it out.  Why do we need all this fuss?  We need less fuss and more action, and less silly names for a storm.

Daily Telegraph

 

A lightning attack in Syria might mean the end of the Syrian war, a war that began in 2011 with a local uprising.  The Assad regime has held on since then with Russian help, help that may be lessened by the war in Ukraine.  

It appears in this fast moving situation Aleppo and now the important city of Homs have been taken by the rebel alliance, an alliance if several Islamic groups and some with support from Turkey.  Fighting continues and reporting is rare at the moment  as journalists cannot enter some areas, and rumour always speaks louder than fact.

Israel's attacks on Hezbollah and Iranian backed groups has weakened Assad's control.  With Iran losing power and Russia looking for other ways to continue its influence Assad himself may have to flee.  Those Arab states that recognised his power have been very quiet, a disagreeable situation for him, and the loss of friends means the loss of control.

There are 27 million refugees in the world, a few million of them coming from Syria, many living in tents for many years.  Maybe, just maybe, there is a chance for them to return home.

But what then?  Israel is happy with a weak Assad regime, they will not be happy with a contentious Islamic gathering in Syria.  What happens now?

A Boris Storm

It comes as no surprise to note that the Covid Inquiry has been informed that the Prime Minister, one Boris Johnson, was inept, incompetent, and willing to let old people die if it saved money.  It also comes as no surprise to note the right-wing press are not mentioning this today, instead attacking Cummings, the one time aid to Johnson, who revealed what we already had discovered from the civil servants who spoke in the days previous.

The message is Boris and Sunak had no idea what to do, money was more important, wise medical information ignored or despised, and Hancock, the Health Secretary, was considered by all around as worse than they.  

None of this is a surprise, we knew this at the time, yet the media who also knew this kept quiet then and act surprised now.  I look forward to someone brining a 'manslaughter charge' on them all.

Another stupidly named storm is approaching the land.  Panic is being announced in the media, local councils are preparing for the worst, warnings abound re possible occurrences of wind, rain, flood, and mass destruction.

It's almost as if we have never had a storm before.

Before storms had to be named, and who's idea was that?  Before then the radio or TV man would tell us a storm was approaching, possibly 'Storm force 8 or worse,' and life went on.  Now we must panic in case a storm arrives and the 'Daily Mail' and other tabloids have a chance to attack the weatherman for not warning us that storms arrive during the year as they have done for thousands of years!

I may respond by staying in bed.

A Storm Approaches

A touch of rain tonight.  I could hear it lash against the window as a particular series of gusts passed by. Water swelling across the road as the gutters fill, drops crashing outside the back window, and not one person to be seen walking the dog.  I bet there are several dogs wanting out nevertheless.  

Just another winter storm, two have passed, this is the third, and yet the Daffodils will be blossoming in the morning.  The moving jet stream has aimed these storms at us, it is to be regretted they are not aimed at the Eastern Ukraine, maybe that would dampen Putins desire.

The problem with sabre rattling is that things go wrong very quickly and usually not under anyones control.  Putin has weakened the UK by paying for Boris and his Conservatives, and encouraging Brexit. With Boris in charge and Liz Truss as Foreign Secretary it is no wonder he dismisses the UK with contempt.  The divided thinking within the EU has much to do with Russian interference also.  No wonder he expects to walk into Ukraine and vanish one invented enemy.  The problem is the Ukrainians do not give up easily.  Afghanistan has shown how to fight a guerilla war and many Ukrainians I suspect will participate if needed.  This could be bloody, this could escalate, we could end up with WW3 on hand.

There, that has made the storms appear insignificant.

Habakkuk the prophet, had problems with Jerusalem.  The king was corrupt, the courts took bribes, murder, robbery, sin was abundant, and God was forgotten.  Habakkuk was a prophet who took this to God rather than reproaching the people, maybe he had and they did not listen.  He made clear the mess the land was in and the Lord replied.  He indicated he would bring the Babylonians to Jerusalem and end all this.  Indeed he did, but it took a while, Jeremiah began his years of prophesying at this time, God moves at his own speed, not ours.  Habakkuk wondered about the Babylonians, a great powerful people who did not hold back when it came to destroying their enemies.   He feared for the future, how did he respond?  

 

 Though the fig-tree does not blossom
    and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
    and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the sheepfold
    and no cattle in the stalls,
 yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
    I will be joyful in God my Saviour. 

 The Sovereign Lord is my strength;
    he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
    he enables me to tread on the heights.

                                                                                 Habakkuk 3:17-19.

⁴ Jesus answered: ‘Watch out that no one deceives you. ⁵ For many will come in my name, claiming, “I am the Messiah,” and will deceive many. ⁶ You will hear of wars and rumours of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. ⁷ Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. ⁸ All these are the beginning of birth-pains.

                                                                                Matthew 24:4-8.

War has been with us since Cain and Abel, it will be with us to the end.  The Good News is that Jesus is with us also, at all times.  He never changes, he is the same, yesterday, today and for ever.

Sleep peacefully.

 

Stormy Weather.

 

The winds, supposedly at 77 mph, are passing the window.  It does not appear to be that bad however, the trees are swaying a wee bit, things are being blown about, and at least one of our wheelie bins had to be retrieved after being emptied this morning.  Yet people are about, dogs are being walked happily, no serious damage in the near vicinity, though the main water pump has failed and the taps are offering only a trickle throughout the town.  This is surely not the result of the storm.  

The temprature is around 50%, the sun breaks through now and again, and in spite of the fear messages us indoors do not see this as worse than regular winter storms.  It may of course be dangerous elsewhere.  Looking out I noticed that the weather has little effect on the Council Daffodils.  The first one has bloomed, others are ready to come out once the storm has blown over, and soon the world will be springtime yellow once again.

 

 

As I said, the wind was not that powerful, so knowing that tomorrow all the old people who would not venture out in a storm would arrive at Sainsburys early in the morning I decided to shop now.

As I walked the wind gusted at varying speeds, with the temperature being mild I quite enjoyed the short walk.  I took the trouble to carry the empties back to the recycle part, therefore I was anchored quite well.  I thought the sound of the wind enjoyable, almost howling through the trees above me and around the park.  A very interesting sound, not like the sound of the trees swaying in the wind around the 'Big Hoose' behind us when I was a kid.  I recall how often we could hear the sound, storms are not unknown in Scotland, and the trees up the back swayed and creaked as you neared them.  At the other park down the road two trees have fallen over, these were more isolated and open to the wind than my neighbours, but it appears no-one has been hurt.  

A quick shuffle around a very quiet store, less than half the cars expected at this time on a Friday, and being happy with life, I decided to go back via the park anchored by the weight of my goodies.  You can tell my back, still with an ache, is far better than it was on Monday.  Someone had cordoned off some areas in town, but the cordon had been blown, or knocked down, so passage was easy.  Little damage had been done around the town, though our wheelie bins had been laid down, and other items similarly dealt with.  

As I rounded the corner the wind blew me roughly backwards then very roughly forwards again, I became glad of my anchor.  It appeared not to know which way it was meant to come.  Various items flew down the road with each gust, plastic lids, a few bags, lots of paper, carboard boxes and the like.  

As I crossed the near deserted park the trees appeared quite stout but lots of branches, usually small ones, lay around.  The wind made my journey back much quicker than usual.

 

 

 

Storm

A touch of rain today.
This comes from one of those winter storms that now possess daft names, Caroline this one, offering, they say, 90 miles an hour winds.  This excites the tabloids who offer panic laden headlines with wind damaging buildings and blowing people hundred of miles away from home.  Hmmm it was windy, around 20 mph this morning, and severely wet for the postman who left a note as I didn't hear him.  I suspect he was being drenched and could not wait, I don't blame him, horrible day to be doing that job.
Tomorrow it will improve to snow, blocked roads, crashing cars and halted railways, at least according to the tabloids.  It might get cold here.
So who suggested this absurd idea of naming storms?  These things have ripped up the coastline happily for hundreds of years without personal names so why name them now?  Following the US I suppose and pandering to some daftie who requires to name a storm so they realise winter is upon us?  Bah!

However truly sad news comes from the US where Jerry informs us his wife of many years has passed on after an illness lasting some time.   Naturally he is distraught although as she has suffered much in recent years there is an element of peace at last for her.  It came quite quickly at the end so she did not linger but now Jerry has the worst of the deal.  She has passed into her Lords hands and is safe there Jerry remains longing to be with them both.

Cogitation on Silence and Noise

Late Sunday night and the world feels different.  It does not take long to recognise the reason, it is the resounding silence.  There is no football hullabaloo in front of me, no cars passing by outside, no young girls screaming in the park, no young males impressing them with their noise, there is school tomorrow and all that homework still to do.  There is even an absence of aircraft overhead, no quiet voices of passers-by, no footsteps.  All is still.  

Silence, something we are no longer used to.  Something I notice only when I have no radio or TV blaring, no football in front of me, no music, no sound.  All this silence appears a strange experience to me now.

Once, before the motor car and the radio it was always like this.  Small market towns had their own daily sounds, loud voices were not uncommon then as now especially when the pubs emptied but there were few if any motor vehicles with polluting engines, pollution was the responsibility of factories and they were closed on Sunday nights.  No workmen's carts would trot slowly by however the local gentry might pass in their Brougham on their way home from a free dinner.  On the edge of town animals in the fields might be heard, nocturnal creatures on the hunt, an owl or a few bats and in the country there are always noises nobody comprehends and does not wish to investigate. 

How quiet life could be before the motor car and electronic devices.

Perhaps we avoid life by hiding behind such electronically produced sound and thus fend off the need to think and face the reality of our lives.  Bread and circuses for the many in the modern day.

   

After eight in the morning the contrast is clear.  Already the barking of happy dogs with wagging tails with torpor filled owners following has been heard.  The bread van snarls it pollution spreading diesel 7:5 tonner up to Sainsburys, cars driven by Monday morning blues ridden owners head for work in shop or factory, and soon dragging schoolbags behind them the future of the nation appear slowly making their way to the school Stalag.  By nine the streets are busy, shoppers appear and the sun decides to shine when most folks are in work, isn't that always the way.  On Radio 3 a soprano warbles uninvited and behind me the kettle boils noisily for third, or is it fourth time drowned out by passing white vans rushing into their busy day.  All we need is the police round the corner or the ambulance from up the road to announce their arrival by blare their siren and the day will be complete.

Maybe I ought to go back to bed...?

Going back to bed was a good idea, I heartily recommend it.  In fact I recommend it so much I may return there once I have eaten something for lunch.  

Lunchtime certainly is not quiet.  Next door the builders hammer and bang, lorries back up across the street, cars waiting for builders lorries to move allow me the pleasure of their poor taste in music while they wait, and on top of this I have been back in the BBC iplayer.  This gave me five Radio 3 Essays on the Great War by Sir Hew Strachan a historian of repute.  (Do you ever hear of a historian being called anything else?  They are never referred to as 'dodgy' are they?)  This series is about 'The Long Road to Peace' and well worth a listen.  These fifteen minute programmes suit me as if they get wearisome you can dump them soon enough, I listened to all five.

The noise levels grew also as the street life became busier and the world went about its busy business.  I added to the cacophony by setting aside a few minutes to listen to AC/DC offer us one or two of their melodies, well if 'melodies' is the correct term with AC/DC that is!  Just in case a neighbour was in I used small earphones and now I am not sure I can actually hear the traffic outside as tinnitus appears to last longer than I thought.  

Storm Ophelia has been filling the news today.  This was a hurricane at one time but now is referred to as a mere storm even though it manages to reach over a hundred miles an hour in parts of the Republic of Ireland.  This is not one of the usual left over US hurricanes, Ophelia never moved from the eastern Atlantic and has begun to move north picking up large portions of Sahara sand with it.  This sand is they say much finer than that found elsewhere, whether this is true or not the sky has turned a yellow colour above us this afternoon and in some places a deep red has appeared in the hazy clouds.  The picture is quite close to how it looked at one point and the air is filled with a heavy scent, with fine bits going up the nose I noticed.  As darkness falls the sky changes colour and with the storm heading north the sky will clear by the morning I suspect.  The storm has caused much damage and several people have been injured and a few killed.  Here the sky has changed colour, the trees shiver in the wind and the slow traffic reveals the rush hour at its height.
I may as well go back to bed...

I've Never Been so Happy!

 

I spent the night here.

This was not my intention earlier in the day but after last night's 'entertainment' I felt there was no longer any choice. 

We have had the misfortune of 'Brexit,' we have had the greater misfortune of Donald Trump and whatever that means, now the lowest point for a long time has arrived, a 3-1 defeat by the 'wee team.'. 

In all my 32 years I have never known a more humiliating experience than the one offered by the Heart of Midlothian during the Edinburgh Derby against the 'wee team' last night.  Defeats occur occasionally, usually the fault of cheating refs and diving Hibbys, rarely do the Heart of Midlothian get swept aside by the better team as they did last night.

Now as the European Championships take place on Tuesdays and Wednesdays at this time of year nobody is allowed to televise football games so as to protect the overpaid self important clubs involved in the Champs league.  This means I could not see the game live and had to rely on the wireless and the comments of the pundits.  However it was clear from this the display was awful.  How it looked to those paying through the nose for their tickets I would hate to say.

Losing 3-1 to the Hibs is not and never will be a good thing but to lose without a fight is terrible, a 'terrible' of frightening proportions.

Why did it happen?  

The new (and as we are constantly told 'young') manager wishes to play classy football.  To do this he has introduced players suitable for the performance of such football and at times this shows through.  However it becomes clear having watched one or two games recently that to succeed at such football a degree of strength is required, this was missing all too often, and not available last night is appears.  Real Madrid, Bayern Munich and others play the type of game we wish to play but add talented players who are strong characters and have the will to fight even against wee teams like the Hibs.  Often they encounter clubs who close them down, hassle them and give them no time on the ball but still produce the goods, this is a trick some of our players have yet to learn.

I spent last night, and rediscovered this morning, many needless abusive comments from people who's mental failings have caused them to support the Hibernian, these posted many comments on Twitter and elsewhere which did not enable my cardiac performance to remain normal.  It is too be hoped that those who post such needless and hurtful comments will contract Mumps in the next few days from their kids!

Oh and the trains had stopped by the time I got down there!  Bah!

Storm Doris!

Now who in their right mind would put a name to a storm?    

At the moment winds of around 30 to 60 mph are hurtling past the window.  Policemen are seen chasing their hats, trees falling over, roofs crashing through houses and the media inform us this is the fault of Storm Doris! Doris!!!  What a daft name to give a storm.  

Why do we need to give storms names?  Who decided this?  

Storms have blown across this land for thousands of years, always referred to as 'a storm' or 'strong winds' or just 'bad weather' yet to enable this enfeebled population to understand that a 'storm' is raging we now know it by a name, and not just a woman's name but we vary from a woman's name to a man's name time after time!  What a load of juvenile baloney.  

A storm is a storm, we need not know it's name as we cannot call the police and as them to catch 'Storm Doris' and not just because they are busy running after their hats either. 

Bah!!!

Look at that poor pigeon, he was swaying this way and that and now hours later he has gone and disappeared.  I suspect he will be in Harwich by now, walking back slowly as he canny fight Doris.

You of course will know the 'Nereids' were sea-nymphs according to ancient Greeks (and some young ones I believe).  Fifty daughters of Nereus and 'Gray eyed' Doris!   Doris was a popular name at one time and was indeed the name of Herod the Great's first wife.  He banished her along with Antipas his son for another and bumped that one, Mariamne, off after 'in house' lies and office politics from the women of the palace even though Josephus claims he actually loved her.

Doris is also the area of south eastern Turkey, then called Asia Minor, which the Greeks helped themselves to unasked in that English Imperialist style.  The area including Halinass Halingcar, Rhodes and Kos formed the 'Dorian League' and they became 'pillars' of the community (did you see what I did there?).  Not many women are called Doris today, fashion in names change as quick as a woman's mind...

What...oh!

Musing

I had a call on Thursday from the landlord's lassie.  She informed me he was arriving about three to look over the property.  This was kind of her as it gave me a couple of hours to hoover, clean, wash, scrub, and hide all the faults that I ought to have fixed, mended, repaired and painted long ago, indeed a very long time ago!  I must say he is a good landlord and his staff are excellent, I have no complaints there, but this year little has been done that ought to be done as I have been too busy!

Naturally he did not arrive although I had my excuses laid out for him.  

He has the eyes of a hawk and would see all the faults I have kindly hidden and he would not see the work I have done in maintenance, because it aint been done!  ooer!  I assumed he may come therefore on Friday so I took evasive action, wandered down to the bus station and got on the first bus to arrive. This at a time when I would rather have spent the day sleep after my exertions of the day before! However it was good to get the bus pass out and drive past fields of green, with a mist in the distance, or was it a house on fire, not to sure.  I wandered about the bits of boring Chelmsford that I had not been bored by before, and this without a camera to picture the one or two old and interesting buildings, mostly Victorian, that survive in the badly rebuilt town. The motor car has led to the pedestrianisation of the centre of town, which is fine, but there are dual carriageways running next too them which is less attractive, especially as old streets and buildings have been demolished for the important vehicle.  This may be practical but is not enhancing the city.  Some towns have managed to improve themselves even with an increase in vehicles and selfish drivers but far too many have knocked down good buildings for roadways.  It is not an attractive place now, practical but boring.

Of course as I returned footsore and weary he had not visited.  I might check tomorrow if I need to urgently visit Colchester!

Braintree Museum

Saturday at the museum began well.  The thunder and lightning overhead shook the house during the night and as I prepared my good looks in the morning the rain thundered down also as lightning continued to reverberate all around.  As I arrived the Big Boss grumpily let me in and muttered something about alarms.  Indeed the lightning had switched off all the alarms, knocked out the town clock (he is responsible for the Town Hall also) and rain flooded their basement.  In his hurry to be in several places at once, and having been up half the night with all this, he forgot he had the only key to the light switches.  We therefore had a dark museum, not fire alarms, and a kids event to run.  This had to be cancelled at the computers and photocopier all failed also. 

I wandered about switching on anything that worked but the young lass was afraid to move through the darkened museum to open some of the locked doors, until the torch on her iphone was used to guide her as she ran through! Just as well we got it all going as by eleven we were busy for a while.  How nice to meet interesting people and kids who don't wish to go home as they enjoy what they are finding.  

Tonight I realised my ansafone was also dead because of the storm.  I should have closed down the laptop during it as lightning landing nearby once killed the old modem in my first PC and led to me being ripped of in my ignorance of such things.  

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Dawn, George and Storm

The dawn came up not quite like thunder this morning revealing a bright sun glinting off the clouds.  The day ahead beckoned brightly.  When the sun shines the world is a better place, people almost smile, and indeed beneath the thick clothing they had wrapped themselves in they may well have been smiling, it was just impossible to know.  

George Osborne must have been delighted.  Before leaving for the House of Commons he entered his office at the Treasury, sat in one of the newly installed seats (the office revamp costing a mere £10.2 Million) and began to read his notes on cutting public spending by £3 Billion.  

For the most part I have ignored what he said.  An attack on the lazy young was not unexpected, they do note vote but the 'Daily Mail' reader does, and shifting a pittance here and a pittance there he hopes to rescue his party from destruction at the next election, and replace Cameron as leader.  After all he is the one doing all the work, right George?  Whatever he says makes little difference to most of us.

  

Yesterday, as the sun raced far too quickly below the horizon, I crossed the field heading for town.  Today the rain hammered down at a 45% angle.  The wind reached 25 miles an hour here yet way up north in the Scots Highlands winds of 148 miles an hour were recorded!  Snow fell, winds blew, trains were halted, lorries turned over and sadly people died.  Much nearer here along the East Anglian coast a combination of wind and high tides threaten to engulf the homes of many.  Electric pylon falling all over Scotland, followed by flooded houses near here.  I become grateful to be housed, upstairs, in an area that rarely suffers damage like those poor folks endure.   

There is something about a tree bare of leaves that stands stark against a blue sky.  I do not refer to the blue sky being so rare, my thoughts concern the contrast between the two.  There are photographs in there, however I fail to get them out. 

      .

A Good Dying Day!

For days they have been on TV and Radio informing us of the impending storm. The papers of course were hoping for another 'Hurricane' such as blew through in 1987, it did not arrive.  What did arrive was a storm indeed, houses were damaged, tall vehicles turned on their sides, trees fallen over, trains halted because of, "leaves in the line, attached to the tree," shop fronts damaged and lots of rain hammering into the already sodden earth.  Sadly at least four people were killed, two of them quite young.  

The media reports were desperate to build this up into a howling gale equal to 87, the fact that it failed did not stop the large pictures and hyped up reports. Certainly the wind reached 79 miles an hour around here this morning, it did make a mess of my hair, however little real damage occurred overall.  In the afternoon however I noted the remarkable clear sky.  The sun shining at an angle gave a very clear light.  The gale had stopped the Sainsbury's heavy lorries running around, the road traffic was lessened and aircraft were not landing at nearby Stansted. All this contributed to a clear sky along with the wind clearing the air and leaving an interesting sparkling light.  I attempted to capture this with my wee camera but it was not easy as no decent subject showed itself.  However the owl on top of the aged drinking fountain in the town did reflect the light brightly and the sky behind was a lovely blue.  It was the best I could do in the circumstances.  The drenched bench did not quite work.

It strikes me as unusual that this is almost November and the temperature is still mild.  Does this indicate the winter will be harsh from next month on I wonder?  Lasting until April probably? It may be the jet stream moving south may give us a mild winter, I hope so, just to annoy the energy people!

The title?  In Edinburgh such 'storms' are referred to as "A good drying day," by the housewifes.

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