Indoors!

The idea of running about all over the country via the bus pass has led to an unfortunate situation. My knees ache!  Sadly I did too much too soon and have spent this week lying about the house, not unusual that, awaiting my body recovering.  Naturally the sun has been shining all this time, buses pass my house indicating the place to put the bus ass and running off into places far away.
I remain indoors.
This morning I ventured out to Tesco as the food stocks were somewhat low.  I considered using this as a chance to diet but failed to make the most of that and by 8 am I was shopping.  My diet has been blown again and must be restarted today.  The stomach sticking out makes it difficult to see the keyboard on this laptop which hinders me somewhat.
This also means exercising again as that lowers the bump apparently though I have yet to see a difference.  That is one thing that saves me money however, I save £50 by not buying a Heart of Midlothian football strip because it looks daft with a big bump at the front.  Many do buy these and waddle around but this does not present a decent sight in my view, or indeed anyone else's.  
Clouds tomorrow, I will probably be fit enough to go out...

I sometimes sit here amazed at my stupidity and ability to misunderstand facts, however having listened to parts of Donald Trumps 4th of July speech, in heavy rain, I feel considerably better about things.  He waxed lyrical about the war of independence (in 1775 was it?) pointing out how Washington's army defeated the British forces including "Taking over the airports," as they did so. Now this is a slip of the tongue surely and we all make such mistakes, although not as a President of the United States desperately trying to remember the words he has been rehearsing all morning.  
I note he also forgot to thanks the French for their part in the independence struggle, the ships blocking the harbour, the men on the ground replacing the home forces who had deserted, the vast amount of cash given to the new US government, so much cash some say it led to the French revolution, and yet none of this was mentioned, just the airports...
Of course in recent days Theresa May, Jeremy Hunt and Boris the oaf have all revealed a similar lack of historical knowledge of their own country, this when parading themselves in Scotland!  The members of the Scottish National Party are well pleased with the results there.
The Tory infighting, like the Labour infighting and the almost completely ignored Lib-Dem infighting continues apace.  We all wish it would stop!

 
The advantage of sitting at home is that I do not get caught up in transport difficulties.  My real sympathies go out to the early commuters who fled London early to begin their weekend and are now facing a bus trip home. Damage to the overhead wires on the lunchtime service has blocked the line which means from Witham buses must be used to get people home.  
The weather is hot, the people tired, drinks running out, buses slow as it is rush hour, and the happy citizen concentration on his mobile phone or his crossword in the free paper will be considering some of the words he has heard from his boss concerning the failure of his work.  He will be reusing them tonight.  I once got the commuter special, never again!  Either in morning or evening the experience is not good.  Crowded, impatient, and tedious when things go wrong.  Train journeys are great when quiet...

Up on the Roof.

The need for fresh air and sunshine forced me out today.  This was good as the light was bright and the townsfolks were meandering about, some showing off their new bikes, scooters and clothes, others seeking shiny things in the shops now open.  

I soon found myself on the top floor of the large car park from where I thought I may get a picture or two of the town.  Here I noticed windows dirtier than mine existed though to be fair it is difficult cleaning windows through those bars.  

    
Old cottages in the distance once used by weavers they say.  Narrow houses now but large windows for the time.  The attic, now divided, once ran all along the roof space allowing for long bales of cloth to be laid out.  A good example of the craft that once flourished in this area for hundreds of years.

I was much taken with the sign saying "Pedestrians: Way Out" and pointing to either direction.  There are no stairs and this means the only way out is through the 'window' on either side.  I went on further myself...

 
The low lying sun leaving a kind of blue haze in the distance caught my attention.  Such a sun is wonderful, bright, cheery and blinding at times.  So bright that my sister a few days ago left a shop, was blinded by such sun and walked into the closed door!   This left her flat on her back being attended to by the staff who it must be said treated her well, this was in Livingstone.  They fussed while she just wanted to go home.  At home everyone laughed, I laughed, and at the doctors he laughed, she just suffered a bruise or two and hurt pride, but she is used to that.  

In among the Victorian and mock Victorian chimney pieces on show we can see the benefits of being a country town, the masses of trees in the distance.  These lie among the farmland that developers are desperate to turn into concrete and mass money in offshore accounts.  Most of the populace are not so keen.  The town has grown from 30,000 to 40,000 in the 20 years I have been here and lost some of its innocence with the introduction of 'London overspill' and the like.  A type of less friendly person is appearing and this affects us all.  People are less likely to speak in passing as they used to do though many still do and 'old folks' constantly complain about the changes, as they do.

 
The mist does create colour changes which I love.  Darker nearby and lightening with each item in view as it heads off into the distance.  Some were complaining tonight that driving was difficult with the mist, I suspect it will be worse first thing in the morning.  Not too much traffic just now mind.  Next Wednesday I suspect before life as normal returns.

While standing there on this near deserted open top floor of the car park I noticed the pigeons suddenly take flight as if aware of a predator of some sort.  Two flocks took off in different directions, joined immediately by all other hangers on, yet remarkably quickly settled down once again.  I could see no obvious enemy so it may have been a false alarm.  It does show however that being a bird is not an easy life.  The weather, lack of food and predators mean you are forever looking around for danger.  We are much safer that we realise, a bird is constantly afraid.  

 
Pointing a camera at a bright sun offers a dark picture.  I could have fiddled with it but could not be bothered decided this was a decent enough image.  I found it strange having come from Edinburgh and having lived 20 or so years in London finding the town so flat.  This was one of the few high places from which to see the town, the Town Hall roof is another and one day I will get up there, but being able to look south and see a few roofs fading off gently into the distance was strange to me.  It still is to some extent. 

Wasted Saturday

A three football match Saturday today. Not that I was able to watch them all the way through with making a broth of sorts while the first was on and falling asleep while watching Livingstone and St Mirren, a response that St Mirren will often produce.  Now Leicester are playing Spurs but I am finding my mind wandering to other things while I scribble this.
 

The town centre extravaganza offered sheep, white ducks, a donkey and a couple of goats, including this one who appeared more than happy to look down his nose at passers-by.  This pleases many and I suspect next week, or the week after reindeer will appear.
Otherwise it has been a wasted day, just as well as I did not wish for anything else today.

Drink, Preach, Sun.

I awoke before six this morning.  I usually do when totally knackered.  It was not possible to sleep, I had little interest in the 15 minute 'Farming Today' sexist programme.  Edited and presented by females each time yet all the farmers who do the work and male, typical BBC.  This did not interest me, neither did 5Live's giggling girly presenter nor the male who found her hilarious.  Radio 3 offered opera, TalkSport offered mindlessness constantly interrupted by lengthy adverts all in a fake Lahnden accent aimed at white van drivers in the south east.  I rose, knees unhappy, and struggled through to the east wing.  Stirring up the dust on the floor, I really must hoover soon, I found the kettle and attempted to make coffee but unthinkingly made tea anyway.  Here I noticed the French Brandy bottle on the shelf, I was sure it was half full when I came in yesterday.  
The day has been spent unsuccessfully sending mums the pics I took of their darlings.  Unsuccessful in that some have said 'This is not mine!'  Others have not replied and one has sent her pics to my boss, my boss is now under the channel tunnel on her way to a month off!  (She has become 40 and feels old, pah!).  My brain is so tired I am leaving it to congeal until things sort themselves out.  Maybe I ought to just finish the bottle.  I dare not ask how the rest are doing.

Update, by six this evening I think I have sent the photos I took to the appropriate mums. I await complaints... 

A man was arrested for preaching outside St Paul's.  Cathedral staff apparently complained about him reading from the bible.  He has a loud voice and upset the 'peace' of the cathedral.  This is not the first time this has happened and a policeman did indicate it would be ''remiss' to move him on from a place of worship.'  The cathedral now allows him to speak for 30 minutes at a time.  How nice of the.  Possibly they could read, preach and offer the bible themselves rather than be a tourist attraction.
Personally a quick look at most cathedrals shows many to be very far from God and possibly allowing the National Trust to take over those that are failing would be one way of saving the CoE a vast fortune.  Some of course are Christian based but not all and it is easy to tell the difference simply by looking at the bookshelves to see what they sell.  A great many were begun during Norman times less for the glory of God and much more for the indication that the Normans were in charge!  While these are tremendous buildings to visit proper churches are usually small with less than 200 members.  There again how many actually attend Sunday services at such places apart from tourists trying to avoid the entrance fee? 

A cheery face has just informed us that the heat will remain and Friday possibly will reach 36% in East Anglia, which is this region.  I suspect I will not be going anywhere soon.  It may also lead to thunderstorms, lightning and pouring rain, which will run off rather than soak into the ground.  So while being burnt to a crisp we will be cooled down by monsoon like raindrops.  I am looking forward to visiting Tesco....
However the sun has been too hot too long, global warming is a problem the rich money grabbers deny while slapping factor 50 sun cream over their inflated bodies while on their yachts.  We will see much more of these weather changes over the next few years.  While I like some warmth I think 70-75% is good enough and a room touching 88% is not a happy place to be.  The daft folks sitting in the sun will be crowding the doctor and chemists for weeks to come.  The little sun I have seen has left me scratching the itch and possessing a reddening nose.  Not bad maybe but we need a cool breeze now.  There again I did a washing the other day and all was dry by evening.  

  

Slow Saturday

The sun strives to break through this afternoon following on from a delightful pink sunrise observed from the edge of my bed as I woke this morning.  Pink mornings are of course a shepherds warning though nobody knows who this shepherd actually is, he was however right.  The dull clouds turn to light but persistent rain forcing me to remain indoors watching football.  English football and I soon fell asleep.  
That sums up the day.
I hope yours was more exciting.

Dead Men Tell tales...

 

I have spent much time avoiding the sun, head down over the laptop searching for dead men.  There are plenty around, in fact they are all over the place, we never appear to run out of them.  I am reminded of one wit who, in a creepy tone  reminded his listeners that the dead outnumber the living, what is worse it that their numbers are growing all the time.   When you consider that in the twentieth century, which seems so long ago now, it was customary to identify and bury the war dead we forget that for centuries before this often a less organised system operated.  The winning side may have dug one grave and marked this for their men while being less caring for the opposition.  Each culture followed their own ideas.  Only the other day I read of a grave in Poland of dead Russian solders killed in action and buried reasonably well in the circumstances but with little marking it appears.  In hot countries it was the thing to strip bodies and reuse material and later gather the bones together, many just left them for the dogs of course.

Sometimes I wonder if we treat the war dead in those large cemeteries better than we do the men who survived?  After the war men were sent home with a few pounds as a 'gratuity' and thanks for coming and left to their own devices, today there is some help at 'debriefing' but I winder if it is enough and do men take it?  I doubt our government cares, caring costs too much!

Tomorrow I will leave aside the dead and work on something a bit more cheery.

The end of the Hot Spots in sight.  Up north rain has teemed down and I have enjoyed sending pics such as this to my friends.  Well they were friends before I sent the pics.  Today clouds hung about for a while and normal temps appear.  I might be able to go out properly now!   This is a shame as I was enjoying watching the half naked women  young children playing in the sun, they were so happy running around the park.  

The heat changes the way we look at life.  Our outlook is affected by the climate and geography in which we grow.  Peoples living high up in mountain regions do appear to have a tough outlook on life, Australians in the 'Bush' also develop this and like to show a droll humour to go with it, something lacking maybe in those in the mountains?  What does that make city dwellers raised in comfort and ease?  Those raised in a land where it rains, clouds go gray easily, and cold winds find openings you never knew about have their own individual outlook on life... 

Sweltering!

I was forced to walk, at noon, in the 82% heat today on my way to St P's.  That's 27% to you foreign folks out there and it is not something we are used to.  It was remarked when I arrived, tired and weary, that only 'Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.'  "You," they said in unison, "Are not English!" Much hilarity ensued!  
Three days running this heat has hit us and in the south we will get a bit more tomorrow.  Up north it is wet of course, but that is what they are there for, to catch the weather falling over the Atlantic!  
I confess I prefer this heat to the usual rain though an ideal temp of somewhere in the 70's would be more workable.  Even typing is hard when great drops of sweat keep landing on the keyboard. 
I'm sure I saw a Duck Billed Platypus walking past as I made my way home.

 
Last night the folks who endured the fire in the tower saw the beginning of the end of the 24 hour news coverage of their story.  This was because a right wing nutjob took it upon himself to copy the Islamist type attacks and late last night drive his white van into a crowd of Muslims leaving a mosque where they had been attending Ramadan prayers.  He crashed into a group who were busy aiding an aged chap who had collapsed.  The driver hit them and killed one and seriously injured several others. While trying to escape he was caught by the crowd and rescued from them by the Imam from the mosque and handed over to the police.  
Today Theresa May desperately trying to look human rushed to the mosque muttering about ending 'right wing extremism.'  I am left wondering if she would include the 'Daily Express' in her 'right wing extremist' list, or the 'Daily Mail' and naturally Rupert Murdoch's 'Sun?'  All these as well as the 'Telegraph' another extreme right wing paper that has gone downhill to make money have blamed Muslims and immigrants in general for every wrong and for many years, this is now the result.
Genuine questions regarding immigrants exist, genuine questions regarding some mosques and their imams need investigating, the media, and these papers in general have not done this!  Instead they play in the fears of the 'white working class' in general and the population altogether with half truths and deliberate distortions, that is how they make their money.  By such usage Rupert Murdoch and others have a control over the country they ought not to have in a democracy.  I am unaware of any cash Murdoch might invest in the Tory Party but his influence is clear, Michael Gove, removed by Theresa the minute she got the job has been returned as 'Environment Secretary,' a job he is singularly unfit for with his opinions totally at variance with environemntal reality. 
The media can be useful, the newspapers can inform, educate, build up, however what sells is sensation so news is replaced by sex stories and 'shock horror' tales, individuals are attacked or sentimentalised with no concern for the reality, they are used and abused with no control over the media possible, this is because the Conservative Party need the papers to get votes!
There are more right wing nutjobs out there, almost as many as there are Islamist nutjobs, extreme propaganda from either side must be opposed by truth, we do not have the media able or willing to do this.

 

Too Hot

Too hot to write....

 

The Morning Shines Brightly

Amazingly the morning has shone brightly several days running now.  Today I trundled the rusty bike with my rusty knees along the way to see if I could catch it somewhere.  Indeed this old path with aged oak trees to one side (an aged map shows them there over a hundred years ago, how long can an oak tree last I wonder) offered a pleasant view at the top.  Beside me birds sang in the trees, young squirrels frantically looked for the way home and a proper forest, six foot wide, ran alongside the path.  This contrasts to the huge school field the other side of the fence justly hidden behind a stout fence and much vegetation. 

Only one early morning dog walker met my greeting and he was more concerned with his mobile phone and the many secrets therein to notice me.  The fact that he knows me and was too occupied to recognise me I let slide and passed on.  I suspect if we were able to read the messages contained on his phone we would not in the least find them interesting yet he stood head down ignoring the bored dog that wanted something to sniff while he perused his phone, he might still be there.

  
When they laid out the housing estate the clever people allowed much of the copse that existed to remain.  If you choose to ignore the old crisp packets and plastic bottles lying around from the scruffy unkempt types who wander through it does give a brief indication of a wood.  The more we build houses the more we require such small glimpses of green to enable us to breathe freely.  The mind can only comprehend so much stone and brick, it requires trees and green grass with areas of sky to let the mind relax.  The Victorians knew this only too well.  The rise in suburbs expanding out from town and city centres, slums all too often left behind, caused a longing for a romantic and unrealistic country life.  The song lines 'You could see to 'ackney Marshes, if it wasn't for the 'ouses in between' comes to mind.  The romantic vision ignored the damp country shacks, the poor life of the villagers, hard toil in fields and the disease that was just as prevalent as in town.  However from a crowded slum tenement after a 96 hour week it could be made to look attractive. 
Life is always better over there.   

This strange colour has been hanging all over the country today.  
I think the sky is broken!

Gloom to Bloom

After two days of sunshine the weather improved enough to begin the day with thick mist.   It was not just the mist that was thick, this thicko decided to get on the bike and look for a place where the sun was cutting through said mist, I didn't find it.

My knees were aching anyway so I did not think this would make them worse, it may improve things in the long term, so of I trundled discovering how low the tyres could get yet still carry my bulk.  Again I enjoyed the quietness of the streets before the town came alive, again I listened  to the birds serenading me, again I could not see them for the mist.  I did see the occasional not very happy individual dressed for Saturday overtime, how I miss those days?  One or two cycled past not too keen to get in on time, Saturdays are often less urgent than week days in some warehouses, the bright Hi-Vis vests seen long before the wearers were.

 
Watching the park opposite I often see a Blackbird defending his patch.  Other Blackbirds, Thrush's or whatever that arrive are swiftly confronted as he protects his land.  This morning as I crossed the road this one was sitting surveying the quiet morning, it was clear this was the owner of the land.  He sat not six feet away from me, not moving, not fussed, quite confident in his self as I took a few shots of him.  He is certainly not a young one and as I made my way across the park I could see him still sitting there quite at peace.  I suppose breakfast was over, the intruders dispatched, the traffic still quiet, few people around so now was the time to sit and watch.  

   
By the time I got home and recovered from my exercise I noticed the mist tinning and soon the sky was blue, the sun shining and I was trapped here filling out forms!  Much of the rest of the time was trying to work out if I had a virus on the laptop or not.  Three devices claim I did not, yet I am sure something has arrived.  I did break away from the laptop and the football long enough to cross the park and deliver one form to the Council offices.  Everywhere people were acting as if it were summer!  Are they mad?  

My knees ache...

Lost in a Misty Haze

My mind is lost in a misty haze each day at the moment.  Jumping up out of bed I noticed the world was in such a haze also.  The misty haze arriving when the temperature was below zero left fields cold and white and early risers not much better.  
I notice Theresa May has become a misty haze also.  When asked four times if she had been told of the failed test of the Trident nuclear missile she failed to answer, possibly a wee bit of misty haze there I suggest.  There is also a misty haze when she is asked about Brexit, EU negotiations, cost, and organisation of trade debates with the world and EU and indeed everything else.  Is she up to the job?  

 
Mondays have changed as each week I am now committed to a meeting at St Paul's when I ought to be enjoying my siesta.  This of course need not hinder my siesta as I can shout my mouth off even if asleep.  However we work our way through the bible making use  of a book called 'The Story,' well they do I read the good book myself rather than a cut down version.  This is good in that I get to know people better and in several cases they already loathe the sight of me, so normal situation appears.  
The problem is time!  This means getting up, waking up, eating and going out at lunchtime missing lunch.  So lunch is early, alongside breakfast to save time, and then I have to prepare my little head and walk down there is the freezing cold weather, not that I was complaining however my knees were!  By the time we finish and I stutter home via the park looking for a picture or two it is time to eat.  So my day has been eat, talk, eat and now ty and scribble something in a blog.  Not easy when you are glaikit like me.

   
One advantage of the cold is the public gardens are free of children, mums consider their child too precious to go outside in the cold which is good - for everyone else.  However with no kids offering peanuts the beasties have to dig for the many treasures they hid when times were good.  Whether they actually find what they hid or whether they are just grubbing around is unclear to me but several were at it when I approached and none appeared to be successful.

Something very attractive about the sun shining like it does but also very difficult to capture.  Nothing else I tried worked so this is all I can do to catch the sun.  
Scenes such as this, with birds and beasties grubbing all around make me forget the worries of the day and the sights are important when sitting indoors for hours at a time.  When stuck inside for hours it is important to walk amongst something green and see blue sky, or gray sky as it usually happens to be round here.  There is something within us that requires time in the outdoors among greenery and animal life.  I think combining this with the seaside is even better for our mental health, the sights refresh the mind and allow us to think freely, expand the mind somewhat and in truth are just enjoyable if nothing else. 

Fussing about Haze

The daffodils boobed their heads slowly in the early morning breeze, a blackbird took fright as I passed but not before tugging a three inch worth of worm from the earth, and the sun fought hard to break through the haze brought by the chilly east current.  Few ventured out bar those opening up their businesses or reporting for duty with little in the way of mirth revealed in their faces. Dog walkers passed unsmilingly, the dogs expectant of adventure in the fields as if this was a new adventure rather than a repeat of many previous days, from the main road the rush of traffic spoiled the atmosphere both romantic and physical, the hum of tyres racing past in the distance.  
I stopped to picture the haze in the only wide open spot available, the sun shone weakly high above brightening the land in spite of the pollution attempting to block its progress.  To my left a blue car packed a small tough looking wee dog into the back and motored away, the engine quiet as if afraid to wake the sleeping houses across the fields.  Suddenly I noticed a pouting adolescent heading for school stop to produce a bright yellow phone from his pocket and linger, still pouting, as he caught up on important news.  I resisted asking what sort of lad carries a yellow phone in case I broke some law and was more than uninterested in whatever his news may be.  As I forced the bike into gear amidst much clanking and scraping I noticed a large Vauxhall containing a woman and two smaller children parked in an out of the way place.  Quite what she was doing there I know not, it crossed my mind she awaited the school opening as it was yet long before eight, maybe she just liked rugby fields?  
Dodging one dogwalker and awaiting another as she persuaded her 'Scottie' to avoid walking through glass left by the kiddies the night before I headed slowly homewards.  The haze remained, broken occasionally during the day by brighter patches of sunlight which never quite gathered the strength to overcome it, yet much less than what occurred yesterday.  

News people require something sensational otherwise they feel let down. Yesterday the main story was the deep haze hanging over the south of England. The thick haze covering London was shown repeatedly by the news media, pictures filled the papers and the radio news talked of little else.  How these 'journalists' enjoyed this.  The pictures of London, and it is always London the picture, did indeed show the haze however it was not so thick here and TV pictures can be manipulated, and much talk and hot air was heard debating the causes.  There appeared to be three, everyday pollution from vehicles and daily life, clouds arriving from the east and would you believe sand blown all the way up from the Sahara desert.  Pictures of such sand were shown as it lay on cars and windows, murky shots of buildings in the distance suffering this outrage appeared, and indeed there is no doubt something was in the air yesterday, something above the usual defilement.  There again maybe that was just me doing the washing and the aroma of 'Daz' was filling my throat. 
The Sahara does indeed send sand to the UK on occasion, SKY news informed us it regularly sends its contents over to the Brazilian Rain Forests helping to ensure the continuation of such forests.  "This," said the man,"Shows nature taking care of itself." I thought it pedantic to ask why 'nature' had not taken care of the forests and jungle that once stood where the Sahara sand now lies, but thought that may upset him.    

The debate has continued at a lesser pace as western winds arrive tomorrow to clear the air.  It has caused the usual talk, this 'natural' event, but as far as I can see there is no movement in actually doing anything about the worst element of the haze, car fumes!  No politician will suggest 'Electric only cars in cities,' nobody will suggest developing and investing in bus and train travel to limit pollution, certainly not while an election is being held in 2015.  Yet those dying from chest complaints, asthma and other problems exacerbated by the haze might vote for those that do suggest it, and then actually do something about it.  What's that?  You heard no such suggestion from those able to do something?  I am surprised about that.

So the media has had its fill of pollution news, interspersed by the Clegg v Farage debate. However as Clegg will be removed from leadership of his party after the election, if indeed he retains his seat, and Farage at best will gain only handfuls of seats from the Tories the debate was at best irrelevant.  Since Cameron took power four years ago they say the Conservative Party has lost half its membership.  His same sex marriage ideas, the ignoring party wishes and dumping unwanted dolly bird candidates on local parties was never going to win friends with that lot.  So UKIP, Farages anti Europe party, will now gain some of their support.  This has already happened at the last local elections as a warning to Cameron that went unheeded, such as voted then may not vote UKIP, they certainly will not vote Cameron!  His job also is on the line.  Two real debates remain, Cameron and Milliband the leader of the failing Labour Party, and Cameron, as Prime Minister debating with Alec Salmond the Scottish First Minister. Cameron knows he would be thrashed by Salmond, a proper politician, this then will never be allowed to happen.  By 2015 of course Scotland may have lost interest in an English election (Westminster cares little for Wales and Northern Ireland also) and be preparing to go her own way.

 

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A Glare in the Sun.

The cat interrupted the daydream to inform me with a look to sling my hook and quick.  Sitting dozily at the gate ensuring the home is protected, enjoying the sun and awaiting feeding time the last thing a cat needs is some prat with a camera.  There is no preening oneself while the photographer positions himself, no licking of hair to get it just right, no posing on a wall or sitting just right, just a slight turn of the head and a glare.  Cats as you know can glare very well.   At least the beast has some sun in which to dwell.  Facial expressions in people can be revealing however in animals they speak volumes. Dogs, those big lumps that take up lots of room and eat everything and require you to walk ten miles a day with them can say much with a look.  Cats however say much, much more.  They need nothing except your constant attention, food and you getting out of their way.  You have to think if their is a dog in the house, the cat does the thinking for you, the response required from you is mere obedience. 

I have spent the day indoors looking for dead soldiers again.  Some fool found a war memorial from a village nearby last night and realised he had no knowledge of the folks involved and sat up till near midnight scouring the web for little return.  The day has followed on from that very well!  It is just typical that none of the names match those already researched.  Bah!  It is fun mind but annoying when nothing else is found.  At least on this one I discovered a dead Brigadier General (acting) who along with his Major was hit by a stray shell. Some sixty or more such generals perished this way.  

My eyes hurt from the bleary light, even when the sun brightened the day staring at the screen did not improve my 20:20 vision, especially as my vision is more bleary:bleary.  My mind however has been enabling me to forget an enormous amount, so I had to go back to the shop for what I forgot yesterday. While I found myself talking to myself about things I had no connection with I almost forgot the soup burbling away on the cooker but saved that before the burning started.  Later discussing with myself the future football I managed to knock everything down as I went to eat my dinner, put my dinner on my seat as I cleared the mess and then sat on my dinner.
The air, as they say, was blue!

I have now retreated to the west wing in an effort to overcome all this debacle and hope to recover my struggling brain by reclining gracefully.
Did I switch the oven off....?   

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Tiring Tuesday

Having spent a tiring morning in the museum rushing hither and thither, searching for pictures for one while searching for a card for another, watching the next job(s) piling up on the desk and failing after all this to finish my tea I was glad to escape after lunch for a walk in the sunshine filled park.  Naturally by the time I got there this was the scene.  As I settled in to open the windows and clear the fug that fills the dwelling the rain began teeming down.  The cold attempts to cover my fingers in frostbite, my toes have fallen off inside my socks and the electric people have happily told me they will check my meter, aint that kind of them?

After the day I had, non stop, so busy that I never realised the boiler was off!  Others noticed but I didn't as I was doing all the work.  However.....

Hold on, Liverpool are playing Everton, must dash......

The Longest Day Once More

The middle of the year comes round again and all that was missing was the sun.  The mist so deep and cloud cover all day until now meant it spoiled the day somewhat.  That will not please these Italian chaps who have been set in the town centre in what the council call a 'Solstice Special.'  Usually there are more stall like these but I suspect there are many such events this weekend.

Items like this grab my attention until I notice the price!  I know Italy is a long way but I'm not paying for your petrol mate!  Still I could eat those quite easily.  I wonder if any fall off during the night?

Kids are well catered for, although they appear in short supply at the moment.  I suspect tonight there will be more action, certainly tomorrow this man will make some money.  The one at the back ties the kids in and bounces them up to a height.  She would not let me on claiming I was to big even though I am merely 8 stone.

How I wanted that Candy Floss, sadly no-one was in the stall and my money was in the bank.  Several folks were attempting to Hook-a-Duck and at least one brat had himself a prize.

The usual things abounded here, Bouncy Castles who also banned me, Puppet Theatre, A man on stilts with a small bike, and a Town Crier who I heard but luckily avoided.  There was also a man with balloons.  He was twisting a Poodle around until it became a balloon and sold it to the children.  I hope it doesn't burst!

On my way back I was fascinated by the wee plants growing on this wall.  Sadly I could not get a proper picture of them.  Nice mind.

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