Sunday Thoughts

It has been a tiring week.  My sullen hulk refused to go out yesterday leaving me with no option but to watch football all day.  This was tiring, especially as the football was mediocre English stuff.  I struggled through two games and gave up halfway through the third.  However, I did have the joy of watching Kilmarnock beat Rangers the evening before, and that cheered me greatly.  Always good to see the Old Firm struggle.  

One noticeable change in recent days is the Conservative Party candidates refusing to mention that they belong to the Conservative Party.  Here is my own MP, and Foreign Secretary at that, not only dropping the word 'Conservative,' from his poster, he, like the rest, have changed the Conservative Blue to a peely-wally green.  Possibly this is to convince people that the ones who have given licences for hundreds of oil and gas rigs to appear in the North Sea are doing so for 'Green Environmental' reasons.  The water companies pumping sewage into the sea with no punishment possibly don't count here.

A simple con, which will fool many let's be honest, but not all.  Whatever this crowd of gangsters get up to a third of the English population will vote Conservative.  Why?  Habit, fear of 'socialism, because the 'Daily Mail,' 'Daily Express,' 'The Telegraph,' or the 'Sun,' tell them the Conservatives will stop foreigners coming here on wee boats.  They believe taxes will be lower, and they will benefit.  The majority are no longer fooled, but many will still support this gangster party.

Wiki

Daniel 7:9

‘As I looked, 

‘thrones were set in place,

and the Ancient of Days took his seat.

His clothing was as white as snow;

the hair of his head was white like wool.

His throne was flaming with fire,

and its wheels were all ablaze.

 10.  A river of fire was flowing,

coming out from before him.

Thousands upon thousands attended him;

ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him.

13 ‘In my vision at night I looked, and there before me was one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven. He approached the Ancient of Days and was led into his presence. 14 He was given authority, glory and sovereign power; all nations and peoples of every language worshipped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed.

**************

This Sunday the church I didn't attend, was considering the transfiguration of Jesus.  The time he took three disciples up a mountain alone, and was suddenly transfigured, Moses and Elijah appearing beside him.  This, strangely enough, is a moment I and others I think often ignore.  We read it and move on.  However, if we read the powerful description in Daniel we see where Jesus came from, thus we can no longer imagine him to be merely a 'good man,' but we are forced to accept him as God on earth.

The supernatural is missing from many churches these days.  Those who accept and believe it often forget it during the working day, yet it remains the real world, and this earth a mere copy.  

Jesus transfiguration frightened the disciples, how much more we when God moves in our lives.  When God interferes with our lives on earth it can be frightening, we cannot control him, the supernatural is above and beyond what we know.  Yet, the image of God seen on his throne, pure and Holy, surrounded by myriads of angels, yet offering his Son, the one to be worshiped, simply to save individual people here on earth.  The Love that is revealed as this Holy God reaches down to me and you, dies as a substitute for my sin and yours, and knows all the corruption inside, and there is plenty in me, is quite astounding.  To think that this Holy God wants someone like you and me to be with him, enjoying him for ever is a thought worth considering.

Albert Goodwin - The Rain From Heaven, All Souls, Oxford

 

Edinburgh, Autumn and Football

Louise Rayner - John Knox's House, Edinburgh

A quick glance at this picture and you may think the scene has not changed much in all these years.  This picture, painted in the later 19th century, is full of life and depicts what is supposedly a normal day in the life of the great city of Edinburgh.  We see the High Street, or 'Royal Mile,' as it is known as it leads from Edinburgh Castle down to Holyrood House, has always been a bustling place.  The painting portrays the locals, with a few workers of many kinds included.  The better off by now having moved down into the 'New Town' long since, we can tell the small tenement dwellings are occupied by those standing around in the street.  None are ashamed of hanging out the window and participating in the conversation, none are ashamed of washing hanging from the windows, neither activities being seen done today.  

However, this month Edinburgh endures, sorry, welcomes, the Festival.  An orgy of high class entertainment for the paying public.  Alongside this come the 'Fringe,'  this is an orgy of artists seeking fame and fortune, alongside those from previous generations who made it here in the long forgotten past.  This comes with a plague of leaflets no-one reads, mostly scattered about the streets or pinned to any available post, also unread by passers-by

Add to this mix the Dustbin men are on strike for a week!  This means wheelie bins overflow, rubbish piles up, and none gets collected.  The tourists flooding into Edinburgh, while the locals flood out if they can, get the benefit of Brexit Britain in their face, and certainly up their nose.  An excellent idea of the Binmen to make clear what is happening in our country today, low wages, high energy bills, and Brexit failures flood the nation, and the government, in Westminster, has gone on holiday!  As I keep telling the Brexiteers, "You voted for this!"  But they refuse to accept reality.  "This is not the Brexit I voted for!" Is their cry, though there never was any other on the table.  Lies and devious politicians, backed by very rich men abroad has brought the nation to its knees.  And Brexiteers refuse to accept this.  Trains, docks, Royal Mail, and dustmen on strike, and Brexit continues to make problems.  

Boris is on holiday.

400 miles away from all this I sit watching August slowly disappear from us.  Already 22 days in and leaves are falling from the trees.  Possibly this is encouraged by the dry ground, the heat heavy upon us this year, possibly just normal Autumn approaching.  

The sun still shines, though now through much more cloud, and slowly heads towards the west.  Women take their dogs across the quite safe park, enjoying the sun while standing gossiping about their neighbours with others like minded.  The impatient dogs snuffle around the fallen leaves and sun browned grasses always finding something to keep them busy.  

The rush hour now struggles past the door, music of an awful kind emits from one, a ringing phone from another.  Rap, with a capital 'C' passes by at three miles an hour, followed by the airport bus, hydraulic brakes squealing like a crying child.  Every evening the same people, the same slow struggle towards retirement.  Others, often retired, foolishly shop at Sainsburys in time to meet the rush hour.  They have done this for several years, why?  Have they never considered an early morning or late night shop?   I suppose getting up, checking the pills, finding breakfast, walking the dog, and then it is too late for shopping.  In the evening they would not wish to miss the 'Bread & Circuses' provided for them by broadcasters dulling the brain and hindering thought.  

I avoid such TV yet find my mind is dull and thought hindered.  Having exercised, twice early last week, then twice worked in the front to clear the mess I found my self very tired and aching much from Thursday onwards.  Even today, after a trip to Tesco, my body aches.  This, I must say, has nothing to do with the money saving offer on a bottle of 'Jameson's Orange Whiskey'  that was going cheap last week in Tesco.  Irish whiskey does not just possess a wrong spelling of 'whisky,' it is also only 30%, which tempts some to drink more than they ought.  Especially when watching football.  My neighbours now know I was watching football at the weekend.  

Saturday Delicacies

As I sit here, chomping on a 'Murdoch's Macaroni & Cheese Pie,' I contemplate the day before me.

I should be fussing with the water in the washing machine but instead I had to dismember the chicken from last night and boil the bones for stock.  It is now almost noon which shows how slow the day has been.

  

I suspect I will begin with Morecombe v Solihull Moors in the English Cup, or if they insist on the useless female commentator I will revert to Sky for Reading v Bristol City.   

After this comes the big game of the day, I have booked my ticket (£12) on the Alloa website and will enjoy the Alloa v Heart of Midlothian game in what is now called the 'Betfred Cup.'  How these names annoy!

This finishes on time for me making use of the chicken, now in the fridge, for tea and being prepared for the other 'Betfred Cup' match between St Mirren and Aberdeen.  

If my eyes still focus I may watch Atalanta v Verona or West Brom v Sheffield United.  Of course I may just be asleep by then, or if the Heart of Midlothian loose I may be round the corner sitting in the local Police cells being asked about things flung from windows in an aggressive manner.  

"Not me guv."

While quite used to being alone I have noticed how I have become more aggressive and indeed angry at things in recent months.  Whether this is 'Lock Down' or my tiring mind I cannot say but clearly both are having an effect.  The numpties on Twitter were getting to me so I avoid it now for the most part, but on Facebook similar people arrive and wind me up.  Good job we do not carry guns these days.  Imagine if Donald Trump was to shoot those who opposed him?  Count the bodies...

I looked into those I encounter and find how mixed up many people are.  Confused about life, their place in it, sexually confused, not sure if they are male or female, gay or normal, some politically motivated but appear confused re what their aim is or where they are headed.  A sensible answer to one upsets others, answer them and the first is offended.  

Talking of offended I see one football pundit has been suspended by the BBC for using the term 'Handbags' during a game.  Several people, probably girlies, objected, and the man dumped.  How silly the BBC has become.

 

 

 

Haircut and Football

At last I had a haircut!
I was about to get one when Lock Down began so it brought back memories of losing the Hippy hair many years again when the Barber chopped all those lumps of grey hair from my head. Waking up with hair not indeed unlike a bad tempered used mop was becoming a bit wearing.  Now I no longer feel my hair growing into my shirt and can happily move my head almost all the way round now.  Not quite Owl like mind.
It was a while before I could find a free Barber.  All the shops I passed had people waiting or several being dealt with as I looked in.  The sight of Barbers wearing those face masks, those with glasses loose out as they steam up so wearing them appears difficult.  I was interested to hear the Barber had not been paid for 4 months.  I thought there was some money made available for businesses, though I suspect these guys work independently so miss out any cash, the boss may do well mind.
He was efficient and friendly enough, the result OK, not that I am one to fuss, and at least the hair is cut.  I need to go again, just before the next Lock Down begins in 6 months time!

Back home I have invested in NOW TV for Sky Sports once again.  I have done this a bit early, Scots football does not arrive for a few weeks yet, but already I have watched several not very good football games.  I also watched the English tedium called Cricket!  This was a bit tedium as not much happened when I watched and the 14 year old director spent far too much time making use of a moving drone and short 5 second pictures of individual players interspersed with each ball or repeats, and several of them, of incidents that for the most part need not be replayed.  Rather typical TV these days.  Then it got dark they went home, and I went back to football.

Monday Mump

It's been one of those weekends. Nothing has gone right.  Even my spelling has failed more than ever, according to all the red lines under this sentence.  Just like being back in school.  I had to buy the teacher six new red pens when I left.  Some refer to being 'Booted' out of school, my teacher took that phrase to heart.  She had a nasty streak after all.
Early this morning I headed to Tesco for bread.  I had been in Sainsburys late yesterday for bread but when I got back I discovered I had got everything but!  I knew I should not have followed that woman around the store...
Today I was in Tesco just after 8 am.  Wandering around, just for bread, I spent £7:27 on other things that I suddenly realised I required, but managed to obtain bread first.  By only shopping once a week I have spent much less money, today reminded me how I was overspending in these money grabbing places.  Of course the lovely lass at the checkout did not like me, that helped to make my day.
The list of things that did not work, was not possible, unavailable over the weekend, plus rain when I considered wandering outside, all added to a dreich weekend.  I did rejoice at the number of freely available football matches on telly but discovered most of these were dower, dreary typically English affairs.  The best part was the second half of the 3rd division German game I found, at least both tried then to play football.
However, with Craig Gordon returning to the Heart of Midlothian there was one piece of good news this morning.  Just as long as he does not injure himself going up to the press conference.
 

I suppose I could have been like the clever people and taken out insurance against my day.  Many celebrities take out such insurance in case their voice/legs/talent suddenly leaves them.  Others take out insurance for their wedding day just in case 'cold feet' appear.  Still others, while swimming in Loch Ness took out insurance in case the Loch Ness Monster bit them!  Similarly a cruise ship did likewise as they feared the monster might bite them!  Sometimes of course insurance is worth while.  The Wimbledon Tennis people took out 'Pandemic Insurance' after the 'SARS' outbreak some years ago, now it appears they may get back some of the £1.5 million they paid out annually, around £114 million expected to arrive sometime soon!
I wonder if they will allow 'Having a bad day' as an insurance request...

Football, Church Women and Holidays

Life has been much enhanced lately, yes Friday night football is back, and today the Heart of Midlothian are slugging it out with Aberdeen as we speak.  I will watch the delayed broadcast on BBC Alba at 6pm.  What a great use of a TV station!  No more Friday evenings wondering what to do, no more Friday evenings staring out the window watching people without TV football wandering about bereft.  At last life has returned to some normality.  
I have lost BTSport however, I could obtain it via Plusnet but this will cost £10 a month, and that is not on, I went there to save cash, anyway BT have BTSport only for this season then it moves to SKY.  This season I may take a 10 month ticket with Now TV to enable me to see Scots football on Sky, along with English rubbish.  I might be able to afford that.  
Of course after Brexit all these English players will be returned home, Trump fashion.  Then what will happen to English football?  A collapse at the top level is on the cards and Boris and his strange backers will line their pockets and run I expect.

 
At church this morning I noticed the three 'old' women gathered together again offering a view of a female 'Last of the summer wine.'  I began to imagine the kind of adventures they would become responsible for.  

'The Guild & the Missing Communion Wine.'  
Nobody knows what happened to the Holy bottles of QV Sherry procured from the Co-op but it was noticeable at the 'Bring and Share' Sunday they girls would not allow the children to drink the raspberry cordial on their table.  It remains unknown as to whether this played any part in their dancing on said table later in the day.  
The curate was later found in the vestry, tied up with string and with an offering bag over his head. 

Sometimes I laugh when folks talk abut little old ladies.  The impression given is of weak and not too bright women.  I remember being in a room full of ex-missionary women, their husbands, those who had one, had all died long before, and feeling more unsafe than when I was in some football grounds.  These women had had to succeed in difficult and often dangerous places, the Belgian Congo was one where many missionaries died, and in inhospitable habitations far from help.  These were not women to men with!

These summer days make me wake early each morning, usually so early that by 10 am I am back in bed!  I am surrounded by people telling me that they are off to Spain, Iceland, Majorca or some far off land while I mention my trip to Chelmsford to by sausages.  This does not seem right to me in some way.  
I keep asking for a pretty young lass who speaks French to drive me around the battlefields in France and Flanders but have so far met with little in the way of encouraging responses.  One or two have been specifically unresponsive I must say!  There again I have little desire to go where others go.  Spain for the sun, especially for those with kids sounds good but would be boring for me.  Iceland might be interesting but expensive and would mean eating a lot of fish!  For Majorca, sitting reading books sounds good but why go there.  If I go somewhere, if the knees let me, I would wish to see something!  Why g abroad to lie about all day?  What a waste.  The old battlefields would be interesting, foreign nations with a history far from tourists might also satisfy, but lounging about amongst lager louts can be done cheaper at home.  Not for me thanks.

 
 

Wednesday Half Hearted Post

I have attempted to post for three or four days now but frankly could not be bothered.  Pressure of laziness wore me out...
Yesterday I was unable to post as I had to work, the kids came in to the museum for music, that is Bongo Drums and noise.  I remained at the far end away from the noise and had to contend with the mums and kids.  This I like as kids are different!  Kids views on the world are limited to the family, school and whatever they have around them.  Each one is at one and the same time different yet the same.  The same daft actions bring similar responses yet they also act in distinct manners.  So one will laugh while another finds something humorous but has a reply to fit.  At least when leaving all who I asked were genuinely happy to have visited and enjoyed themselves.  Mum will have brought many back each day this week, cheap, safe and easy for them.  

 
Not so easy for me as my replacement took the day off to enjoy her friends birthday leaving me doing overtime.  My egg roll did not help my diet (3 pound lost) and cost me £2:50.  The working late meant I missed my siesta which leaves me tired even today and also left all yesterdays jobs still to do.  They can wait until tomorrow now...

Last night, struggling to keep awake, I watched part of the wimmins football that was on BBC Alba.
While it was fast paced enough, with commitment, effort, no little skill, it was clear that this is 'Girly' football.  Put this triumphant side up against any male side in the world and they will be defeated easily. 
Now I have no objection to girly football as such however I have much objection to the lie that tries to put this on a par with proper male football, it isn't and never shall be.  Such an attitude is part of the lie that attempts to make men and women the same under a lie of 'equality.'  We are 'equal' but we are made to be different.  The satanic lie is to scrub that difference and confuse people, it works well today.  Too often we read of some famous (usually an actor) person claiming they will not force their son to be a man but let him 'find himself!'  Yeah right!  'Bring up a child in the way he should go' I say, you will not do that trying to sand back will you?  Instead the strongest influence in the house, in these cases probably the mum, will fill the kids head with her feminist views, whatever they are.  Feminist views are in the eyes of the beholder, there is not a 'ten commandments' for them, they are a mishmash published in book, magazine and media, a confusion of thought with no single driving purpose except make the woman think she has been cheated and is missing out.
She isn't.  Men 'miss out' as much as women, men suffer as much, men do not have the ability however to sell the gutter press by whining about their lot, women can.  We see in the BBC the epitome of such slanted views on sex and 'gender.'  Women are forced into everything, radio pop stations, football reporting and elsewhere, often clearly not fitting and yet grumbling about this is dismissed.  We are not allowed to complain.  Why a women footballer should comment on TV football when men from the lower leagues are not considered fit to do so is a clear sex bias.  Why mediocre women are filling the BBC World Service today when in the past better journalists were removed, often female, to make way for them puzzles me, probably employed because they are cheaper.  Ah cheaper!  If women earn less in business surely the boss would employ more women than men?  They don't do they?  There must be another reason.
Anyway I was quite happy watching the girly football but it is not equal to the male game and never will be.  When will the hype cease?

Now, can I go back to sleep...

Tiring Saturday

I have been forced to remain locked indoors as there is a constant stream of football to be watched today.  So far I have had Aston Villa v West Brom, not counting falling asleep at the start of the second half, and await whatever is next.  After watching the Aberdeen Hearts game on Friday night I need reminded as to what football is all about, there was none on show there.
Three more games lie ahead, with similar tomorrow.
Not much else is getting done....

It was during the monotony that resulted from Derby County's inept attempt at goalscoring that I browsed the book 'The Old Ways.'  Mindful of Jenny wishing to read and Fly having considered his precious book 'precious' I ventured inside one Leeds United had taken a comfortable lead.
The first thing that struck me was the paper used, very nice and suitable for a book of this subject, but a bit 'precious?'  Look I am listening to you not reading for myself.  The next thing was the immediate confrontation of four, yes FOUR, pages of review blurb!  People of all sorts from all parts of the wide globe were informing me how good this book was.  I thought one page of blurb usual but four was a bit, er, 'precious' right enough.
However I went straight to first chapter 'Tracks,' and read the first piece as 22 men humped and punted one another about the field to the accompaniment of 'encouragement' from men of limited vocabulary.  In this chapter the author walks out into the snow one dark night and proceeds out of town and across the fields following the tracks left behind in the snow by beasts of the night.  An atmospheric walk and quite enjoyable.  Was it a bit 'precious?'  With that thought in mind I could see what was meant and yet look forward to the next chapter, 'Path.' The reading offered a different perspective from what was on offer in front of me as I read.  Maybe that helped...?

The Glories of Spring!

The north wind has been hammering my windows all day.  Rain lashes against them every so often while elsewhere snow and ice, rain and hail aid people to enjoy their long weekend holiday.  
I am indoors. 
Now the sun shines brightly and after the wind has dies and the sun switched on the heat again we will be able to enjoy all the growth in the gardens round about.  I say 'we' but the man cutting the grass again might have a different opinion.

It is fascinating how people interpret the times.  The other day the vast majority of parties supporting Brexit were thrashed in the polls, the parties opposing Brexit obtained huge wins, today Theresa and Jeremy have decided that this means we need to 'get on with Brexit.'  I have discovered many others also wish to accept that is what the 'message' was, clearly it was not.  People will see what they wish to see and political leaders are no different.  It is interesting how many 'friends' I have made on the 'Daily Mail' forums however... Interesting also that insults abound but no arguments are forthcoming.  On one UKIP site I accidentally posted a picture of sheep and some folks were not happy abut this.  
Jenny made an interesting point in her comment on the last post re voting.

From what I've seen most people won't have a clue how to vote. What you really need to know is that the parties list their MEP candidates in order of preference. So you do a bit of research, google MEP candidates, choose your area, check out the candidate at the top of the list in EVERY party and choose which ever candidate's views you like the best. Then you vote for then, regardless of party. The second candidate might not get in if the party doesn't get many votes, so it has to be the top one if you want to be sure of having your views represented. I think that will be clear enough in the case of the Brexit party, but a pity that there is not a Remain party on the other side.

Unfortunately I have been forced to watch football on and off all day.  This is not my fault but being the end of season it means teams find out if they are 'going up' or 'going down' and in many cases this was unclear.  Clarity being established for many only the 'play-offs' await and these too can be intriguing.
However this meant I missed my life today.
I now have a backlog of work to catch up on and it is after 10 pm, this is annoying and I am beginning to wish they would schedule football matches at a more appropriate time for me!  
I might then get my life back.  

Slow Day

It's been a long boring day.  Once the Motherwell v Rangers game was over all else appeared boring.  That game was worth watching, especially as Motherwell got their deserved equaliser with almost the last kick.  That nice Mr Gerrard has just realised how difficult this league will be.  He still has to go twice to Edinburgh to play the Heart of Midlothian and Hibernian, not at the same time, and our big centre Uchi will enjoy the men we saw out there today.
After that a succession of boring French and German football appeared, these, while offering decent amounts of skill were slow in comparison and the French league is the poorest of the two.  Yet these players get transferred for many millions while Scot lads are cheap?  Something wrong somewhere.
Not leaving the house has left me bored, no emails, only one chancer phone call and nothing to divert my attention from my troubles.  A boring day, and the rain falling all afternoon did not help the chill that gripped me today, another couple of days of sneezing lie ahead as if I have not got enough problems.
Any news?  No, it has all been swept under the carpet except for that attacking Scots independence, the media enjoy that while hiding their own bad news.  Clearly Independence is a threat again and the bad news stories are starting to appear in the media, more to come.  

Nice Day...

As I teetered my way up to Sainsburys this morning I glanced around the slowly filling car park and failed to notice any English flags today.  Possibly they were all over in the corner, beside the recycling bins...?  The social media was far from sociable today, only Scots, Welsh and Irish appeared keen to comment on last nights game, sullen resentment appearing to be the approach from English quarters.  I like that!   One chap gave the sad "Scotland didn't get there" reply and I saw him off with "UKIP are raging!"  Now he will not speak to me, him being black and that I mean...
However the suggestion that Nicola Sturgeon ought to make July 11th a national holiday in Scotland has as far as I know not yet been debated in the Scots Parliament.

A man masquerading as a US president has been found wandering the streets of the English capital surrounded by high security.  Police for many areas have been drafted in to protect the public and Humphrey the Downing Street cat has hidden itself away after hearing comments about Trump and his love of 'pussy.'  
There have been some daft US presidents, in the 19th century one or two were not exactly civilised, but in recent days we have become used to a more sophisticated politician than the market trader now in that office.  Others have brought opposition, Reagan and Dubya among them but none have been regarded in such a low manner than this lout.  What a shame for decent Americans.

Apart from ensuring Englishmen suffer I have done little but waste away today.
I think it was worth it!

Tough Day!

The cruel, cold-bloodied women who boss me around forced me to stay on at work today.
The afternoon lass has gone on holiday again and none were available to cover except myself.  I did indicate to the harridans that Columbia were playing Japan (an exciting match it turned out to be) and if I stayed I would miss this.
She replied by kicking my ankle and saying "Stay if you know what is good for you!"  I am not sure this is in keeping with good management practice. 

The day had started badly.  The central heating upgrade was still in progress and yesterday (the museum is closed on Monday's) the men had moved half the shop to get the cables for the new radiators in place.  My first job was to replace everything, and I mean everything!  First of course this meant finding where it had all been put before putting it into some sort of order.  
This however was held up by the arrival of a small excellent school. 
This in the middle of a muddle, electricians wandering about, things everywhere bar where they ought to be and a school to teach.  It could not get any worse, but it did!  Visitors arrived!  A group came to see the exhibition in amongst the clutter and children yapping away.  This however they coped with and even bought things, so well done to them.
I merely continued restructuring the shop knowing that tomorrow when Boss 3 gets back she will change everything round again as she always does.  Humph!  Still I managed this hard work, breathing heavily to the delight of two female visitors, I know not why, and realised I must up the fitness striving.  

The work done, note no new photos, I returned to my tepid cup of tea and attempted to interest two women in buying the stuff I had re-installed.  They bought one card instead.
Having done all I then finished a small job, cutting wool for Boss 2 intended for a kids project she in engaged in.  This done I sat, and how I sat.
By now it was lunchtime and as I ought to be heading off the Boss 1 came by and kicked my ankle again and suggested I eat as I was going to miss the football and I ought to stop crying over this.  So I sat and ate my egg bap and prepared for a quiet afternoon with no football.  Then I realised I may be in luck.  By getting my egg roll from the cafe the boss had covered me at the desk, she left the computer on so I raced onto the BBC and found the game there!  Of course when it starts it asks 'Have you a TV Licence?' and as I have one I click 'Yes!' and continued.  The manager (Big Boss) glared at me when I informed him of this and he began to mutter about check ups etc.  I merely smiled as I knew he would sort it.  
It was then I realised sneaky boss 2 had been back in and filled the wool bag with a huge ball of wool for me to cut up for the kids.  This when watching football!!!  Have these wimmen no heart?  I say no as another volunteer entered to collect something and stood there yapping for ten minutes as I strained to watch Japan stuffing Columbia.  She knew what  she was doing!  Bah!
At four, with lots of cut red wool all over the place I left hoping to catch the beginning of the second game of the day.  Naturally I would not as a couple came in at ten to four holding us up by asking questions and meaning I did not get out until after four.  Home by quarter past dead beat, bruised and satisfied with another happy day at the museum.
Isn't life grand...?

At Last!

At last something to watch on TV!
The World Cup 2018 has begun and for the next wee while we have three games a day to fill the screens.  How lovely!  Well that said I must state that this first game is living up to the usual forst game in a world cup, it's rubbish!  
We have had the prelude, with Robbie Williams of all people, drawling while some dafties performed around him.  That nice Mr Putin spoke about being careful of the doorhandles in the hotels while staring down at the Ukrainian representative.  For some reason the image I saw was of that nice Mr Hitler opening the 1936 Olympics, maybe that's just me?
The first game has gone as feared.  The Saudi's are full of zeal and the Russians, no great deal here, are well on top having scored two easy goals (as we speak).  The early games are often full of fear as no-one wishes to lose a goal so as yet I see little excitement approaching.  I will however check it out just in case.

This morning, long before you lot were up, with the dawn chorus in my ears I ate breakfast.  Having burned eggs in the microwave I made coffee and sat there wondering who was burning plastic.
I soon realised it was me.
Somehow the hob rear had turned on!  I didn't do it, but it was on. 
This was unfortunate for the plastic container of biscuits was sitting on that hob ring hiding from the sun coming through the window.  I grabbed the metal ladle more used to scraping eggs from the pan and scraped the melting morass from among the by now thick pungent smoke that was filling the place.  This I threw into a bowl of water and removed the rest slowly dumping it also in the water to cool.  All the while choking on the fumes which I must say were very strong!  Quite how firemen cope with that in real time amazes me.
It took a long time to remove most of the smoke, the smell is still clearly noticeable, and the ring might be almost clear for the moment but I suspect requires more work.  Good job I never use that one.  
How stupid!  How on earth did I manage to turn the hob on?  
At least had the Robin entered at the time he would have had several open windows to leave by!

Tiring Weekend

An emotionally tiring weekend.
Saturday I sat through three full games, from the 'National League' play-off to the Dundee v Partick Thistle relegation battle.  Thistle now enter the play off on Thursday.  Today I was forced to watch Hibernian playing Rangers.  Now this is a time when I want Hibs to win! Anyone playing the old firm has my vote and today the Hibs numtys went in to a 3 nil lead within 20 minutes.  Fantastic to watch the Huns fans staring into space.   Naturally Hibs threw it away and not long into the second half they were 5-3 down!  However perseverance brought them level to a 5-5 result in the end.  With Aberdeen defeating Celtic (who lay down I suspect) this means Aberdeen finish second for the fourth year in a row and Rangers sadly finish third.  Hibs are fourth and we are happy to remain in sixth place, the season has been hard for a variety of reasons exemplified by the fact that in our last game today we had only four senior players fit so the youngsters, eleven teenagers, were in the squad and fiver were on the pitch today, two for their debuts.  The loss of a single goal was satisfactory in the situation and we now plan for next season.  Of course I also watched the Dumbarton v Alloa play-off tonight, the fifth this weekend, and am happy to see Alloa rise to the second tier of Scottish football. 
Just a handful of proper games left, then a cup final or two, and the season is over.  I must say that watching European giants play is far less satisfying than watching lesser clubs fight for promotion or to avoid relegation.  Such games have more desire and while the talent is less the entertainment is much more.  Real Madrid could learn a lot from these boys.
I am worn out now...

Football Commentators

I spent much of this afternoon grumbling about a football commentator.  This is not unusual.  These men, it ought never to be a woman, these men spend much time gathering useless information about the people involved in the game and then fill the time spouting this dross throughout as if they are attempting to appear knowledgeable about the game.  This does not work!  When a goal is scored I have no interest in being told that this is the first goal the man has scored since September when he scored against blah blah blah!  Tell me about the goal he scored today!  There is no need to inform us that this player or that once played for Manchester United's under 16 side, almost a million young men did so and only seven made it to the top!  I have no interest in the man's private life, his wage nor the seven clubs that 'may' be chasing him as most of this information is pure guesswork or straight forward lies from the hacks.  Just explain the game to us.  Explain the tactics, why are they playing 'three at the back' and not 'four?'  Explain why the opposition do not play 'two up front' and as the game progresses explain also why the co-commentator with twelve years experience at the top level cannot explain the tactics other than saying "He went for it, got his head to it, but put it over," in similar manner which thousands of us at home could happily do for half the money!   
I often watch games on BBC ALBA, this is great because the commentator speak Gaelic and I understand nothing of what he says thereby allowing me to watch the game almost undisturbed.  Now I have an idea, I have found a stream that in amongst the dubious adverts and malware offers me football coverage, of dubious quality, that uses no commentator!  This is brilliant as the crowd noise is heard but there is no constant whine of needless chat from someone who considers his voice more important than the game.  Let the TV people give us the chance to watch a game without commentators for a while, see how much they can save and how our ears will benefit. 
I look forward to the day.

Sunny Saturday

There is an unlimited amount of fuss in the media at the moment regarding the 'Honours.'  This is the system where the nation rewards individuals for what they have done for the nation or at east one small part of it over a lifetime.  Most of course go to the high and mighty regardless of worth though many indeed deserve a reward for their labours.  The benefit of such a system is that Lollipop ladies, gardeners, charity workers and individuals who have benefited those around them by helping out can get recognised and a wee bit of deserved publicity. 
The media however concentrates on media stars, celebrities or politicians and debate whether they deserve or not such rewards.  Personally I wonder at some 'celebs' who are given Knighthoods and Damehoods unless of course it is a suggestion, and not too subtle a suggestion, that it is time they retired and never came back.  On the other hand it is a wonder that certain people wander the streets as 'commoners' while many of us consider them worthy of such a reward, maybe their face doesn't fit?
At this point I must make clear that I have not been awarded a Knighthood, OBE, CBE or a BBC, in fact I have been ignored once again.  But there again I'm not one to grumble...

The thing people wish to see at football is goals, lots of goals.  So you can imagine how I feel having sat through two nil-nil draws!  The first was disappointing in that the sectarian bigots failed to either kick one another off the field or institute a riot.  This was disappointing as one would hope for this in a vain effort to have them both closed down.  This surprised me also as the home side, Celtic, ought to have been far ahead by half time and then in the second half they allowed their blue bigot opponents back into the game and indeed to make the better chances. All very disappointing.  In the end I was just wishing the depressing bigotfest to cease and allow me to have my after lunch (which was terrible) nap.
Then I had to ignore football completely until six in the evening.  At that time BBC Alba offered the full Aberdeen v Heart of Midlothian game, a proper football match between proper football teams, or at least they are on paper.
This game also ended as a no scoring draw but was much better in that we were involved.  The main grumbles were the BBC Alba director who felt the need to look deep into the eyes of each and every player,that is when he was not watching some character in the stand, the Aberdeen manager or someone on the bench applying an ice pack to a wound.  Someone needs to tell him that the game is played on the park and that close ups off ugly men are not required!  I wonder if it is a woman?  This would explain the incompetence as she searches for someone to pay her way.
The only other grievance was the expected one, John Beaton the referee has to send off a Heart of Midlothian player at each game, it is in his SFA contract!  This he did by practicing yellow cards for Hearts men but not for Aberdeen ones, even if the jumped into a defender leading with an arm and collapse him.  We have seen such refereeing before and no doubt will see it again.    
However having established a six game run without conceding a goal we can see how the team is being rebuilt, the right way from the back, and once all the injured players return and new ones come in the January sales we will see much improvement in going forward.  That reminds me will someone  give Isma Gonzalves his spectacles back sometime soon? 

Breathing

What a difference in life when you can breathe!  I slept for hours last night for the first time all week and even visited Sainsburys by 7:30 to avoid crowds and replenish stocks.  I have cleaned the mess and having fallen asleep since I now feel almost human again, almost.
This began a week on Thursday and only today, Saturday, is the worst past.  What a rotten week, it is easier to be ill than suffer Man Flu!  How lucky wimmen are in not getting it.

Having spent the midday watching Hibernian struggle at Hampden, I did not continue to send 'Tweets' to Hibbys asking if they had left by half time as always honest...well OK I did.  How lovely to spend the day breathing while watching football!  The dinner is burning slowly in the background just in time for the six O'clock game of BBC ALBA tonight.  Mince, to remind me of what it is like watching Hibs!

I have sent time listening to this great album for 1969. The Hippy influence at its height on here. Great stuff!  I still have this in the rack behind me, not that I think it playable now but it was a great album at the time.  The Moody Blues continued for many years and performed at Glastonbury in 2015 ( I didn't go).  There have been changes to the line up and occasional fall outs but even in their dotage some are still continuing to play on.  I suppose it keeps them alive though after 70 million album sales I doubt any of them need the money.   Amazing to think all these guys are in their mid 70's!
I am still 32.