Showing posts with label Stupid. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stupid. Show all posts

Thursday 5 February 2015

Day Out



So my day of rest (most days) was ruined by visiting the Record Office.  The 10:26 bus left right on time at 10:32 but made it to the bus station dead on time.  Then the problems began.  Do I walk to the right along the long canal path or go through town and cut through the big shop?  Town it is, this is quicker and I always go for the quick route.  
Once through the big shop, past the unsmiling painted faces at the perfume counter, avoiding 'women's shows' and squirming at the prices on the men's jackets I came out almost on top of the path by the canal.  My poor knees and I limped along the path past the huge shopping centre, over the bridge and then the doubts began.  Once I had gone miles along I found a board with a map and details on it.  No one had told me that while the River Cam runs through Chelmsford the River Chelmer does also!  No-one told me that turning left took me to nowhere and turning right took me to the Record Office!  My knees muttered loudly under their breath as they took me all the way back, over the bridge and to a place where I could cut through to the back entrance of the said Record Office.  If I have not lost several pounds in weight by tomorrow I will wish to know why!


Passing through town I stopped of for a moment in the cathedral.  This is a nice place to sit and ponder, unless some event is going on, and I always stop of for a moment.  Much altered in recent years it has not replaced the Victorian stained glass windows and here is one of St Cedd, the first Bishop of the East Saxons.  Not that I can remember much about him, nor that he would look anything like the Victorian ideal, indeed he would not have fitted in well with them I doubt, but he was a strong efficient man in his day.  The sun was not bright enough to reveal the depth of colour in the window.

I spent hours in the Records Office, mostly looking through incident reports of WW2 bombs and V1 and the like that fell in this district.  These reveal the confusion when an explosion of some kind occurs in the dark 'over there somewhere.'  This has to be investigated, damage or casualties reported, and few if any of these men were professional.  However they dealt with bomb damage, individuals made homeless or wounded, and a hundred other events including being shot at by passing German aircraft.  
I was left with something of the lifestyle the man in the street endured as each day he risked passing aircraft, bullets and bombs while going about his everyday business.  These were the men at home, often with family members away on service, 'carrying on' and 'muddling through' while this great event erupted around them.  We are lucky we do not have that situation daily as they had.  
Naturally the bits I really wished to read about came late on when I had lost my mind by reading all the comments and struggling through a mass of carbon backed paper.  I will haven to go back next week and look at some of these again.  

Naturally the bus home met with the 'rush hour,' streams of red lights ahead of us, yellow ones to either side, and roundabout after roundabout hindering our advance to home.  Now home, fed badly and watered just as badly I ache all over, await the pains in the knee keeping me awake, and worse still there is no football on the TV!  
Bah!
  
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Tuesday 25 March 2014

Stupid Week.



Stupid week continues apace.  It never seems to end and I suspect it will continue on, possibly for ever! I indicated to a woman at the museum this morning that she was incorrect in saying that her relative was on the war memorial.  Her insistence almost convinced me but I remained adamant that I was right, I mean I usually take the correct opinion do I not......what? Oh!
Anyway after she left I realised I was wrong.  I was doing things alphabetically but putting 'M' after 'N,' Thus ensuring that her man was not there.  It is clear   the dementia has either started or I am suffering one of those bugs again. The lady however will be returning with info regarding here ancestor and offering them to the museum for the exhibition later this year.  However there are in fact two persons with the same name, only one of which was put on the memorial, which one I wonder?
  
Stupid week continued when I took for ever to count £30 cash.  One of those women who must be obeyed was muttering things as I did this, you know how they go on, I was just trying to find my mind but am failing terribly there. Can it be age, I'm only 24.

The lass I practiced my stupidity on discussed a lot of things with me while she browsed our bookshelves, one was telling her eight year old how lucky he was when watching adverts for hungry children.  Poor wee lad is too young to appreciate what he was looking at but will learn in time.  It made me remember how lucky I am to have what I possess.  The good Lord could have had me born in India, Africa, Syria or Vietnam.  I could have endured war, hunger or a variety serious wrongs, but most of my woes come from me, not others.  Jesus called to me when I cared nothing for him, cared for me when my life was in danger and has provided all that I have now, yet I still remain ready to grumble? One visitor today could not speak or walk properly, a young lad who had suffered terrible damage, possibly from assault, and is lucky to be able to still get around.  How many of those like that I saw in the NHS who are dead today?  

Of course I will still find something to moan about.


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