Ooooo Nurse.

At two minutes to eight this morning I made my way round the corner to the surgery.  I decided something needs to be done about (Censored) and a visit to the nurse was required.  The present system used by the surgery to obtain an appointment is simple, turn up at eight in the morning and be first in the queue!  The surgery has far too many patients because this town keeps growing and growing and this is the best doctors around.  As far as I know no new patients are being admitted here.  However I had to join the queue standing outside the building as the door had not yet been opened and there were at least twenty people standing in the cold draught shivering.  The usual grumbles for aged relics who consider they ought to be treated better than this were heard, "Third world doctors" was one.  "My Alf says that and he knows, he was in Nigeria for seven years," says another.  I mused on the highly efficient and helpful staff at the surgery, the expensive modern equipment, the staff attitude itself and mentally compared this to a Nigerian hospital.  In spite of 82% of heat there in Lagos I think I would prefer our staff here thanks very much.  The disgraceful approach of the Conservative Party in attempting to turn the NHS, the greatest thing the UK has ever produced, into an American style insurance theft health service is the only problem we have in our NHS.  Ideology will not fix the problems better management and sensible policies will enable the NHS to run smoothly but these will not be tolerated under a Tory government, money, not people comes first there!
The queue made its way indoors and queued in some degree of warmth.  One lass at reception handled the queue, firmly and kindly in my opinion, while the other dealt with the many attempting to book an appointment by telephone, only one line being open!  Slowly but surely people were dealt with, some smiling happily and taking seats near the appropriate office, others grumbling, snarling and decidedly not chuffed.  Of course such people could pay to go private and always get an appointment and anything else they are stupid enough to pay for but I prefer to queue like everyone else in the country and give regard to the purpose of the NHS.  One man coughed incessantly throughout causing dirty looks, expressions of disgust and shuffling feet attempting to avoid him but I carried on anyway.  Old wifies struggled to stand leaning on their walking sticks, young men listened to rubbish music quietly on their ipods others just suffered the indignity of having to wait your turn in a manner unknown in some countries.  I noticed a pile of magazines three copies wide and about two foot high on the table.  Sunday colour supplements, women's gossip mags and the occasional kids book lay among them.  I wondered if there was actually anything worth reading in that pile of magazines?  I also wondered how many bugs had been left on the pages by all those sick people who had been rifling through them while waiting for their name to be called.  Somewhere in that pile were sufficient virii to keep this surgery busy for years to come, I declined to browse them.  When as a lad I was taken to our doctor in Edinburgh I was very unhappy that the only magazines on offer were 'Golf' or the 'Edinburgh Illustrated News' and 'Tatler.' These magazines full of pictures of the great and the good fiddling taxes and taking backhanders while attending 'charity' functions in town did not appeal then and do not appeal now.  I much preferred the barbers in Davidsons Mains up the road from us he provided old 'National Geographic' magazines dated 1932.  As a child of nine or ten I liked these as they contained black and white photos of half naked black women and these interested me though I was not sure why.  I may go back one day and see if he is still open.    
The man in front of me reached the desk as the sun began to shine on the trees outside and not unnaturally he had a query that took time to organise, why me I ask?  My turn came and quickly it was dealt with by the efficient dragon staff behind the glass, a time was given and I left to visit Tesco.

On the way back from Tesco I wondered at my ability to buy big things all at the same time.  This means the one bag I possess (one of those 'bag for life' jobs that last around three months if they don't rip) was not big enough for all I wish to place therein.  How come I buy them all at once and not in a sensible manner?  My packing ability is great I need not tell you but even I struggled this morning as the half dim lassie looked on unhelpfully.  Normally the girls here are awake, friendly and efficient, this was a bad day for this one.  Just imagine what it must be like sitting facing customers in such a place day after day?  Could you cope with this?  The slow, the banal, the mentally dead, the occasional zombie and worse still the retired man who has all day to gossip about nothing and happily holds up the queue while he laughs and jokes as he packs his three items.  Dealing with these daily could lead me into speaking 'out of turn.'  There is also the fiddling with cards and change, the women who stand there reading the bill checking every price instead of getting out of others way, the one woman who notes a mistake and calls for the manager, usually over three or four pence.  And then there is the managers, in this company they are not always sweetness and light according to those in the know.  Most supervisors here are good but watching some of the bitchy women managers and noting our own recent problems I can see one or two in this shop reaching high up the corporate ladder, however what they find there will not satisfy them I reckon.   I prefer my little shop where the customers and staff are better behaved.

When I returned to the surgery for my appointment to see about (Still Censored) the nurse was as welcoming as always. 
"Sit!" she ordered, I sat.
"What now?"
I said my piece.
"Bah! Is that all?"
She spat this out while holding a huge hypodermic needle and looking at my arm with a fielding expression. She typed into the computerised system, gave instructions and mentioned somewhat obliquely the idea of cutting of my legs from below the knee.
"Was this a requirement?" I asked aghast.
"No," she replied, "But it would be a giggle."
Grasping the prescription I made for the door.
"It's locked," she grinned fiendishly.
My experience of nurses in previous employments came back to me at this moment and I left via the window, something I had much training for in times past.
I may have to go back in two weeks...

Saturday Joy

 

The syncopated Christmas rhythms continued apace today as the brass played and the choirs sang.  Crowds passed by, some stood and watched occasionally joining in while others sped around elbowing towards a complete Christmas shop.  

I put my fingers in my ears and wished I had my 'Bah Humbug!' hat with me.   

I searched upstairs in Tesco for the item I needed urgently.  Last night while drifting off to sleep I made a note to remember this when in there this morning.  I forgot.  So there was I in Tesco scouring around upstairs searching the toys, the stationery, the handyman items all in a vain effort to remember what it was I forgot to note as I could not remember it now.  Only while searching the 'reduced price' box did it come to mind -ink for the printer! 
I had seen some the other day while in but was not sure of the number.  Did I require 300 or 301?  So I stood once again in Tesco wondering which I required.  I plumped for 300 hoping it was the right double pack of Colour and Black ink.  It was!  How glad I was while at home realising my brainw as much better than I had deduced.
As I opened the drawer where such stuff is kept I found both an unused double pack and the colour ink from the previous set!  I forgot to look in the drawer....

Clear Sight

 

I see the world clearer now.  By that I do not mean I have read and understood all the propaganda spewed out of the various political parties, no siree.  No-one understands those, not even the writers let's be honest.  I did however receive the Tory leaflet through the door today, personally addressed to me.  This tactic of personally addressing such leaflets is motivated by a desire to convince the householder that he is worth something to the candidate, nobody believes that!  So a glance at the picture of the smug git was enough to put me off.  Certainly he has abilities, clearly he has some experience of life, there can be no doubt he suits this Tory dominated constituency but will I vote for him, I doubt this very much!  He did not reply to my Twitter tweet asking him one question, only the Labour man managed that to his credit, the two others I asked also failed to answer. Today's media is quiet on the election however, just another Cameron fear story re the SNP. Nothing regarding policy, just one of Clegg's promises that mean nothing so it shows the Conservative Party are struggling indeed if their media are quiet.

However we get away from the point!

The point is I can see clearer now.  Indeed I see better than I have seen for ages.  You see work has begin on the outside of the crumbling building and scaffolding has been erected for the men to (slowly) do the work.  Naturally one is off at the hospital for some results and the other is off elsewhere today.  All we have is a couple of scaffolders erecting even more poles and planks remarkably quietly.  This erection allowed me to make use of the scaffold to clean my windows!  You see owing to several problems, sloth being the most obvious other than the weather, it has not been possible to actually clean the windows without much stress and hassle.  Today however I clambered onto the scaffold and removed eons of dirt from the outside of the glass.  It strikes me now I am sitting watching the gray clouds gathering outside that I forgot to continue and clean the inside also. Oh well, another job for tomorrow.  

 

Where do 'bluebottles' come from?  You know those big blue flies that race in the window flying around seeking escape and usually leave by the way they entered?  I ask because each day this week I have had one on the window that will not go to the open kitchen window but wanders around the front one.  This forces me to get up and open it and chase the brute around until he leaves.  This window remains closed because of traffic noise yet it is this one the beasts insist on visiting.  Maybe once I clean it they may find it less interesting.

Tesco today announced a loss of £6.9 Billion.  This has much to do with clever accounting that failed and opening too many large stores where they were not wanted in the first place.  Many stores have closed, jobs lost, others threatened.  The books are now clean and we move on they say.

Considering the manner in which prices have grown so sharply, I spent £35 now where I spent £20 before yet they make losses?  I find it hard to believe.

Shop the Politicians

Rather pleased that while Tesco have made a hash of their accounting procedures, or fiddled the books very badly indeed I should say, they are not closing any of the THREE shops in the town. Only one is withing walking distance but as we also have Sainsbury's, Lidl and Morrison's it is interesting how they manage to make so much money.  All claim to be losing profit, all customers claim to be broke, yet the shops are always full and the people fat! There are two small 'metro' Tescos also, one already open and another being built, who will use them?
I find it difficult to comprehend how a store of this size could mismanage the cashflow so badly. Can it be the other supermarkets are innocent of such accounting?  I doubt it.  Can other businessmen be less guilty?

You may not have noticed but there is an election occurring.  A brief nod at the media will reveal the present Prime Minister 'Vowing,' 'Promising,' and 'ensuring' things will be done.  The things that appeal to the Tea Party that is. So far none of the 'vows' made in the last five years have arisen but they will not notice.  Ed Milliband struggles to appeal having no idea what he stands for. For a while the failing Lib-dem ledear Clegg was never out of the media telling us of his marvelous deeds and actions, none believed him, and all the others keep appearing with smiles on their faces and lies in their mouths.

I fear for the UK after this.  Whoever wins the only hope lies in a massive turn towards the Scottish Nationalists getting around forty seats in Westminster. That way they can influence all that occurs to the benefit of the entire nation. A Tory victory will be disastrous as  the rich only will benefit and 'Dave' will still be there, and even the Tories want rid of him.  It looks dire, the future is bleak.

If only a Gladstone would arise!

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Waiting, Waiting.....

On Tuesday morning as I ventured out to my museum duties I found a card from 'Parcelforce' informing me he had attempted to deliver on Monday at '16:12' and had ticked the 'We will endevour to deliver tomorrow' box.  Why I missed him I know not, maybe I was engrossed in a book or listening to something cultural on the wireless?  As it was Tuesday and shortly before 10 am I was unable to wait his return and left hoping he may not arrive until I got home.  Today I was awake by 5:30, in the morning that is, and shortly afterwards rose and shone in my usual style, if that is what that is called.  I decided to wait around for the man delivering today, just in case he did, but after a while i got fed up and went to Tesco's instead.  If I knew what was being delivered I would be happier but this is a Christmas surprise, probably a bundle of legal documents from someone suing me for something said on here!  He never showed today, and I contacted them through the website and now expect to wait for hours tomorrow until he shoves a card through my door and vanishes.  I know these people work at Christmas, I've been there, but always nicely.....

Having used all the Tesco vouchers I came home clutching a bag of reduced items and stuffed a cupboard with them.  I now have more food than an entire Syrian refugee camp!  Isn't it difficult to eat another slice of cheap cake when the telly shows pictures of starving children wearing thin clothes while snow falls around them and dinner is unavailable.  I canny look!  There again I get annoyed that the UK sends aid but I find myself asking how much aid comes from the rich Arab nations, especially Saudi and Quatar who started this war? If it were possible to send £5 now to feed a family I could do it, but how much gets through, why do others not send more, and will the starving children be fed or some Islamic Extremist?  Now I distrust so many charities and I suspect many others do also which means these kids will see less aid not more.  For myself I think I will once again support Tear Fund, I used to do this for years, a fiver a week when poor and more if I had it, as they work on the ground and I believe most gets through.  I must look into it again as I stopped when unemployed.  

Putting 'Agitprop' aside I ventured out again to Tesco this time to browse the non food items upstairs.  I was not buying just checking the prices for when the sale items appear!  In fact some were reduced already.  Since Woolworths went bust Tesco have taken their place as the shop that has the odds and ends you need.  Of course one or two Asian types run similar, and in some ways better, such shops where almost everything required once in a lifetime can be found, a 'Poundland' impersonator also operates but is rubbish really.  Where would we be without a place that sells cocktail sticks and cheap pots?  I had forgotten this was market day.  Every Wednesday the stalls arrive, spend hours erecting themselves, proffer their goods, then spend hours dismantling the shop, a lot of needless work if you ask me!  Why not do what one man has done and use a van? He has a large van which he has turned into a mobile barbers shop.  Not really sure why he comes here as there as plenty of those already, 'Chris & Jim's' at the 'Manor Street Barbers' being the best.  A large van as used by the fishmonger is easier to lay out, shows the goods and saves effort.  Admittedly some goods would not fit but my laziness would make them!  

  
As always at this time of year several dafties spend thousands covering their houses with fairy lights.  Some huge displays brighten the streets to the delight of the kiddies and more so the energy companies.  Me, I think their daft!  That is not what Christmas is about.  However it gives them a laugh, a wee bit of public attention, and money goes to a charity somewhere.  I still don't think much of it, especially after the 25th!  They say that one street around here has every house lit up, mine would stand out if I moved in, just a black sign reading 'Bah! Humbug!' would show. This couple do it right.  One or two wee things to add a splash of cheer but not too much.  Now I am going to blow out the candle as it is too bright in here, almost Christmassy, and we don't want that do we?

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Weekending

What a different week that was!  The past few weeks have involved much time at the museum or failure to get things done.  This week I was only 'worked' on my normal Tuesday, however I stayed on till after three as there was a 'do' for older folks and free fish and chips were involved.  The rest of the week has been mine enabling much getting done.  The new video has been set up, even if I canny work it, Christmas presents bought, only one left, the house tidied, even dusted, and all those things lying around the place that have been dropped, mislaid, brought out and forgotten and now dealt with.  The washing still hangs damp and dreich and the ironing is waiting on a passing woman to get done. Small things you may say, but not when they have been omitted because I was slothful busy elsewhere.  All I have to catch up with now is sleep!

Sadly this has been disturbed by taking the laptop top bed each night and watching football!  Every night there has been a game, and the bigger the two teams involved the worse the performance, very disappointing.  Tonight is no difference as I watched Wimbledon playing Coventry in the English Cup. Enjoyable enough but I prefer proper Scots football myself.

The Christmas presents were easy if expensive, Gift Cards!  Small enough to go inside a card, easy enough to operate at the other end, and I need spend little time choosing, that happens at the other end.  The girls get cards from 'New Look,' a females shop I have never looked in before obviously, however the young lass was very nice when I obtained mine.  In Tesco tonight I asked where the gift cards were and a nice supervisor took me to the stand full of cards that was in front of my nose.  Immediately understanding she was talking to an idiot she put on the 'wife like' approach and talked to me in a slow voice, repeating where needful, intoning certain words with emphasis so I could understand, then placed me at a checkout to pay.  The new young lady there also quickly cottoned on and treated me in similar fashion.  They almost walked me home after taking my money as they realised I was just a male with no idea what I was doing.  They have lucky men at home I say, if indeed the men are bright enough to realise this.

One thing  that was clear in Chelmsford is the difference in peoples attitudes. The desire to walk through people as if they did not exist has a tendency to show there, smiling is outlawed, and 'Essex Girls' is a way of life many appear to admire.  They have not yet reached London levels but they appear to be trying that attitude.  The dress code is Londonish, terrible!  Men well past middle age pretending they are punks does not indicate a life lived to the full I say.  Young folks are always badly dressed, that's normal, but men who do not stop dressing like a youth when past 35 need to see a doctor.  I was glad to get home!

 
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Robin Hood?

Scotsman

This mornings 'Scotsman' featured one of the more important stories found in the papers today. The 'Tesco Express' shop in Inverness has been attacked by an intruder.  This Robin has decided to keep warm and find supper by entering the store to choose a few morsels.  Not only does he fly around the checkouts and loiter in the store he has encouraged a pigeon to do likewise!  This of course causes a health hazard and the 24 hour opening has been interrupted by closure of the store at eleven each night as the staff attempt to chase the birds out.

Not only is this happening to Tesco this December it also happened to another 'Tesco Express' last year also in Inverness.  On that occasion the robin, possibly the same one, entered the cafe and took tidbits from customers.  Another health hazard but also popular as you can imagine.  Some folks have birds in their garden, not that I'm naming names, others have to visit the park or wander into Tesco's in Inverness!  Mind you with the snow all around up there I'm with the birds, it's better indoors than out!

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I wasn't Going to, But I Did!

You see I rarely watch television.  I watch the football, 'Eggheads' and the News, plus occasional other programmes.  I watch these through the laptop now as the old TV died when analogue went out.  Actually I had Freeview on another TV for a while but destroyed this by turning it on via the plug, and as it was switched on it blew!  It takes up more space catching dust. Technology does not become me. However as I looked around the neatly laid out living quarters (I have recently rearranged everything) I suddenly felt a TV would be a good idea after all.  Now I am reluctant to spend money, especially as there is so little available, however I have a couple of bob to spend at the moment to replace the worn out and dead items that have accumulated over recent times.  So when I walked in the freezing sun this afternoon I suddenly decided to pop into Tesco and see if one of their suitable TV's were reduced.  Glory be they were!  So I went for it and now have 75 channels of pap on call.  Well actually a few are channels you pay for, so I will not be having them, and one or two are the dubious late night ones which are long past my cocoa.  Strangely enough I am enjoying watching an aged edition of 'Time Team' in somewhat too brilliant colour.  This is typical of my life, what others take for granted I am able to enjoy as a new experience as it is yonks since I actually had a TV on call.  Of coourse there is a problem, there always is I find, I only have an inside aerial.  This means that, being digital, almost every time a car passes the picture shakes.  This will always happen when football is on!  

Now if some one will pay me £50 a month I will add the football!  

Hello?  Hello?  Where is everyone....? 

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I Have Nothing to Say

It's one of those weeks. The things that have impressed themselves on my mind, the museum, dead soldiers, Rangers men lying in their teeth, and our corrupt government have not been the stuff to raise laughs or interest those in far flung places such as Texas or Dalkeith.  No sir my scrawls have gained little attention and on top of this the rain keeps coming down.  The weather is of course a talking point in the UK.  With the vast Atlantic on one side and the continent on the other weather patterns vary considerably.  Left over US hurricanes lash our western coast and drop rain everywhere while snowdrifts from the Arctic arrive via Siberia from the east.  This leaves a lush, green landscape in which crops can happily grow.  However it can also depress those who spend several days at a time with raindrops falling on their heads.  Gray skies do not bring smiles, although in the UK blue ones don't do that either.  Walking into a closed glass door however can bring a smile to those standing nearby!  It has been known for the wind (The Mistral?) to blow north from the Sahara to arrive in the south of England on occasion.  While it deposits vast amounts of sand grains in the southern aspect of Spanish homes, while leaving the north grit free but chilled, rarely does the dust come this far.  It does however bring a welcome warmth, we miss it at the moment.  What is arriving, whether from west or south, is Atlantic rain!  Tons of it is falling, a months supply at a time, and the plucky Brit is doing what he does on such occasions, he grumbles!  Of course while the rain is indeed heavier and more persistent than usual it is Springtime and this weather occurs every Springtime to some extent.   The plucky Brit of course has forgotten this and merely whines about how bad it is, global warming, ice age, and the Labour Party's fault!  Unless we have to the answer is to stay indoors unless the sun shines, but that would lead to folks complaining about being trapped I suppose.

Not being one to complain, or indeed to blow my own trumpet,  and I remarked as much this morning in Tesco's where the lass made a comment about kids behaviour.  "I wasn't perfect," she claimed, "But they are so bad today." I took the opportunity to remind her I had been perfect as a child, and her story changed. "So was I," she lied!  The young woman following on suddenly woke up to add, "That makes three of us."  I decided I was in a store full of gloating maniacs and left before anyone else joined in.  But is it true?  Are kids really worse today than 30, 60 or 100 years ago?  I doubt it.  Human nature doesn't change and certainly not in that time.  Culture does, discipline does, and we live in liberal times where freedom easily becomes licence. Personal freedom is more important than other people, and consideration for them lessens from parent to child.  However all is not lost and never indeed was in danger of being lost.  People were just as bad in the past, two major wars, a depression and less wealth all round covered up selfishness and human sin.  Things are more open today, exaggerated by tabloid press, and the good that has always been done by all manner of people still continues.  However that said all brats should be locked in school 24 hours a day, seven days a week in my view!

The museum has a Victorian classroom, a very good practical idea in my mind, that educates the brats on past teaching methods.  Dressed accordingly, but with shoes not worn by kids in the past, they learn the highly disciplined schooling of the mid Victorian times.  I thought of this yesterday while attending a meeting to discuss a new layout for the museum.  Surrounded by knowledgeable people who knew their subject i was a bit out of place, but opened the gob anyway, and found truly I was out of place.  After a morning discussion I confess to still not being sure of what has been decided, my lack of concentration, the debate, and many suggestions means I await the next news.  The Victorian times do interest me.  Vast changes in western society, influencing the entire world, mass movement of people, railways, leading to industrial development, increasing wealth, and indeed leisure times.  They are so near to us it is possible to identify with Victorians in a way we cannot with those of previous centuries, they were too different in every way.  Our towns are still based much on Victorian development, as is the rail system and much else.  Prices have changed somewhat mind!  It's a very interesting period and I would like a time machine to go back there for a look around, although taking all the medicine I require with me of course!

 I did however discover a wonderful thing today.  The old telly, no longer used since the 'analog' was replaced by 'digital' signal, does in fact play the videos that are stacked around here.  This is good as there is many wonderful programmes available, much better than the junk now filling TV.  I was beginning to wonder if I would ever get use of them again.  I remain content with small results.  Great events shake me not!  Who said cheapskate.....?  

Of course much of my time has been taken up on newspaper sites adding pertinent comments on the Rangers FC situation.  This club, sectarian to make money, arrogant and offhand to the rest, has been discovered fiddling the taxes, around £49 million, and this added to failing further tax by fiddling the way they paid players doubling the money owed by the 'loyalists' to the queen they sing about each week.  The abuse, the threats and the refusal to accept blame has risen to a level that would embarrass residents in Barlinnie Prison.  Pleading a 'special case' because '"It's us," appears to be the theme.  I am happy to report few attempt to justify their behaviour on the comments, almost all condemn them.  It is the club that whines and bleats in a shameful manner, blaming this one and that but never admitting their fault.  Regrettably  the more they speak out the more I hope for their demise.  An altogether terrible situation all of their own making.

Not much to laugh about, although I did laugh at Rangers, saw humour aplenty amongst the volunteers at the museum, laughed at folks blogs, where intended I mean, and am within myself beaming these days.  Have I been drinking......?

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Country Air

For the first time in a while I cycled, slowly, up the old railway line. I went around eleven as it is quiet then and stupid me forgot the kids are on holiday. Therefore as the sun was shining the families ponderously made their way up the line.  The kids chatting to all the dogs that passed by, when that is they were not wandering through the bushes, the women gossiping about nothing and blocking the way for normal human beings going about their lawful business. The dads being dads, carrying the bags on their backs, sometimes alone with one child, as indeed were a granddad or two, and making me miss the not so young kids way up north.  In one way this was nice to see, in another they just got in the way! A good day out and of course I ache all over now. I must get out more, as people often tell me.


I was attempting to add the 'Beach Boys' song 'Country Air,' because this came to mind when sitting enjoying the sun, greenery and fresh air.  EMI do not allow this (are they not the folks who turned 'The Beatles' down?) so find it on 'YouTube' and hum along as you read.  I was indeed 'humming' when I got home.  

A good day also in that I had a £5 off voucher for the new 'Morrisons' supermarket. The staff, for the most part, are very friendly, you can tell they are new to this game, and I will certainly return next Friday - I have another voucher!  This means that this small town has three large supermarkets represented.  Tesco have three stores, one which has just been redeveloped. Sainsburys have one which is about to be redeveloped and they plan another so big it will replace a small industrial estate! There is already a 'Lidl's' and now the Co-op has closed 'Morrisons' have moved in.  Just how much do the thirty five to forty thousand folks here eat I wonder?  I spent £16:98, and that was after taking advantage of the voucher to stock up, consider how much others must be spending on things they can afford but do not actually need?  Being poor makes me careful with money and I tend to notice prices more.  I also notice how folks buy things with little thought and choosing the label not the product!  An expensive item will be brought rather than try the store version, even though they are just as good nowadays.  Something is bought because it has always been chosen rather than because of any worth it may have.  The tricks of the store also make us all spend on things we don't want and they laugh all the way to the Swiss Bank where the directors store their ill gotten gains. I prefer 'Tesco,' but I will suffer 'Morrisons' for one more week as I use up the last voucher.

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Almost Christmas

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It was as I strolled on the white sand, hand in hand with a brunette beauty, glancing at the turquoise beach and the blue sky as we walked, and enjoying the warm sun settling on my back that the alarm went off and I flowed quickly from being Robinson Crusoe to  became Nanook of the North! Divesting myself of my dingy army blankets I dressed in my dingy clothes and nourished by a cheap nan and cheaper coffee headed once more into the day. (That's nan as in bread nan as opposed to nan as in Grannie by the way!) To Tesco I slipped and slithered on the icy pavements cheerfully ignored by the council gritters. My intention was to grasp if I could those items forgotten yesterday. My awful forgetfulness is a problem these days and once more this let me down. Today I forgot to take the chainsaw with me, I find it enables me to pass through the masses to the checkout much easier! However after a mere short and very uncomfortable lifetime I was free once more to slip on the ice outside, fall flat on my face and return home without the Cayenne Pepper I went for. I really desperately require this as it puts life into my cooking! Bah Humbug I say! Drat, I forgot the Humbugs also! More Bah!


Ah but it's great to be alive! The sun may be hidden by clouds, the pavements ice covered, money flowing like water from the wallet (not here mate!), and all around miserable faces greet the weary traveller, but we are alive! The robins still sing in the bushes, the stomach has more than enough grub inside, the PC brings good people to your heart, and we are still healthy enough to enjoy walking through the park, breathing the air, and observing the world around us! Ignore all the bad things, we think about them too much. Concentrate your energies on the things you like, the people you love, indulge what makes you laugh, what builds up and does not knock down (chainsaws exempted) and determine to enjoy your world in spite of everything!

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Tesco's

Ah Tesco's, or the 'Happy Smile Club' as I like to call it. As I wander around I want to shout 'Is everybody happy?' But never quite get round to it. Today was not too bad, in spite of it being noon and the kids being on holiday. I think most of them were wandering around filling mum's trolley while mum put all of it back as soon as she noticed it. The rest were sitting in the fridge, climbing up the shelving units and just generally getting under the feet and up the nose like brats do. But they were at least happy!

Ah happiness, where does it go when you enter a supermarket? Here, in the midst of vast wealth, where goods from every part of the globe are displayed, where overweight, overdressed (well except for her in the gray outfit, doesn't she know it's October?), folk with large 4x4 vehicles and houses filled with stuff they never use and don't need, here amidst all this wealth folk never smile! They wander around lost in their own world. occasionally you will see a deliberate nudge used to 'encourage' someone to move a bit further up the meat counter, a glare when a trolley is pushed over a foot, and, when I am around, questions asked as to why it takes a woman so long to 'pay up and get a move on out the way woman!' The cry 'I didn't need a shave when I came in!' may follow this. But I am so irritable these days, age you know. But how often do folk smile? Ask them a question and in this small town some women will respond helpfully and cheerfully, others will regard you as a rapist! Suggest with a smile they move their trolley so one can pass and receive a stare that Margaret Thatcher would run from. I blame women's magazines myself.

I ended up with a checkout lass who, although she filled the small area given to her with ease, the 'healthy option' stuff she obviously avoids, had eaten her good nature along with her porridge. A smile, received a grunt, a helpful suggestion received a silence, a comment that I was sick and at deaths door received the question 'Why don't you knock then?' I muttered thank you as she through the card back at me and raced for the door. I am just glad she was in a good mood!

I did think of trying for a job like that, part time. But the more I look at the folks doing it I can see why they get so uppity - folk like you and me! Imagine having to deal with the public? I have done it, so I know why it is so demanding. I would kill if I was on a checkout, it seems easy but how wearing and boring it must be day after day and hour after hour. hard to smile then.

Of course after I walked the long way home I realised I forgot the milk......

Just Pondering Like

There follows a stream of consciousness. You may feel that unconsciousness would have been better. How ever I am going ahead with scrawling here my thoughts. The cynical among you, yes I mean you, are wondering whether there is enough ‘thought’ to share, and then would it actually have been worth the time and effort? The world will soon know.

Outside the window, through the stour thrown up by the vehicles of the Saturday morning shoppers running bumper to bumper on their way home, I can discern the sun once again giving life to the decaying leaves on the trees opposite. the fading greens on one contrasting with the rusty red of the tree on the right. dead leaves huddle together against the park fence, swept from their roost by the rain of the preceding days. The natural world goes about its business while humankind drive slowly and stress filled by, ignoring the beauty around them, full of anxiety about life and its delusions. The birds and the squirrels appear less concerned, and just continue feeding happily, or sit enjoying the sun. Simple pleasures are worth more than those procured from Tesco!

But life does need excitement! We are made for excitement, at least when we are in the mood for it. We look forward to things with great anticipation, longing for the day, hour minute that the great event arrives. Today we await the great football match between Scotland and Ukraine! The excitement and anticipation mounts through the day. What will happen? Can we win, will it be a great anti climax? With great hopes of adventure ahead when we win filling our hearts we refuse to contemplate the possibility of loss! Such events are not mentioned in the bible but happened then just as now. Whether great sporting events such as the chariot race, or small things like a birthday celebration, then as now hopes of joy were raised. What is it within us that is made like this? The idea of something good and pleasurable is attractive to us all, sad events and situations we would rather avoid. However we do indulge some such events, in other people. Soap operas and so called dramas play on this daily on our televisions. Nothing positive or constructive is found, only the baddie being found out, the wronged being made right, someone to hate appearing, and lots of needless confrontation. Yet folk question why the nation is full of strife? There are those who claim television does not lead people into actions, yet advertisers spend multi millions each year to do just that! Who is blind here?

The natural world is at one and the same time wild and dangerous. Animals live by the simple act of devouring one another, the wonder of birdsong is often a male warning others of his patch, the slow moving stream gently flowing past could be a wild dangerous death trap in winter storms. Yet each season has its own unique beauty, the song of a thrush is a delight, the view over the hills refreshes the heart. Just like us I suppose. We worry and fret, fight and devour yet there are mountain rescue teams, lifeboat crews, air sea rescue, fire, police and Paramedics who risk their lives for others on a daily basis. Parents who go through agonies for their child, teachers who patiently go over the same ground again, Samaritans who give a listening ear to the suicidal, and each day small and great mercies are seen in every place. This from a people who live among murderers and rapists, thieves and rogues. Ministers of religion, Christians and humanists, Muslems and atheists. Folk who kill for their religion or those who kill for greed and avarice, or maybe fun, and those who’s religion inspires them to good deeds, or humanists who are motivated to see justice for everyone, no matter what.

All around is good and bad, within us the same power, to kill and destroy, or to build and create. How fragile life can be, yet how glorious also. It’s a funny old world saint.

Saturday in Town

Any Saturday in town is a busy day. Folks come in from the outlying district, locals rise early to drive the short distance to the queue to enter Sainsburys car park, mums with kids make sure their little darlings are on their worst behaviour before leaving home, and to start the day the postman rings the wrong bell at 7:30 just to let you know he has been up since 4:30!

The fruit and veg stalls in the market do manage to look attractive in the sunshine. I have always been tempted to get the camera and attempt to capture the great colours shown there. I have never managed to get round to it, but one day, one day…. It is a small market town, much changed since the days cattle were penned in the town centre and real country folk wandered around speaking only in vowels, Ooo, aaarr, and all that. If you ever come across those that remain you feel you are trapped in an episode of Radio 4s ‘The Archers!’

The towns size is small, around 30,000 when I arrived eleven years ago, touching nearer 40,000 nowadays, yet on Saturday few appear to relish travelling the fifteen miles to one or other of the bigger towns in the area, instead I am under the impression they all want to be in ‘Tesco’ at three o’clock just when I am buying my ‘two for £5’ chickens. Now why should that be? Have they all deserted the other supermarkets just to annoy me? It seems so. The impression I am left with when in ‘Tesco’s’ at such a time is that I have some sort of sign across my forehead or on my back saying ‘This One!’ This gives the women permission to shove their trolleys straight at me as if I was not there, the aged men, always the older ones, permission to stand in the middle of the alley with a trolley and stare into space, and it also allows any brat within miles the right to scream and yell at much more than the regulation ninety decibels whenever I am in the vicinity. It never fails to amaze me the way mothers go on after you shove a kiwi fruit in the gob of such children, I mean it is full of Vitamin ‘C’ is it not?

Of course, after standing for a short eternity in a queue of folk who have no idea how to smile or communicate in anything other than confrontational grunts you then find a youth on the checkout who is going through his ‘hardman’ phase.’ Glancing contemptuously at you he hurries the goods through the till and repeats the total cost in an urgent manner while you struggle manfully to open the bag. Then taking his time to return the change, deliberately pushing it for all it’s worth he utters either a cheeky word or throws the money in such a way you drop t under the feet off all and sundry. The phrase ‘forgive your enemies’ comes to mind at this point, although by this time you have grabbed him by the throat and granted him your best ‘Glasgow Kiss.’ Unfortunately, not coming from Glasgow it hurts you as much as him. Then of course everyone else in the queue starts to complain, as they will have to wait longer. Then there is the problem of the other staff, the security man, the two, rather large and unpleasant police constables, the surly desk sergeant and the uncaring magistrate to deal with – and all for two chickens! Well, that’s how it usually works out for me anyway…..

Taking your headache through the market, being crushed by passing pushchairs at one side and ridiculously fat women at the other one heads for the charity bookshops. Well, they actually sell all the usual dross and are always full of women finding cheap clothes that make them look good, while what I buy makes me look like I have been to the charity shop! How come? Anyway it is the books we look at, I really need nothing else, the place is already full of tat, I glance quickly at one sometimes two or three rows of books and wonder what they tell us of the folk who live here. In this place we learn that the women are drenched in Catherine Cookson and Barbara Taylor Bradford type tales. In short, pap! Row after row fill the five charity shops we have left here, nothing more stimulating than those large annuals loved so much by the kids who received them at Christmas that most have pages missing, badly drawn stick men all over them, and the occasional remnant of sticky bun holding the thing together. When I lived in London the nearest ‘War on Want’ shop was in an area full of middle class trendies. The shelves were packed with good, and often pretentious, things. Vast quantities of books on architecture, history, art, society stood alongside photographic works from the best around, religious and philosophical works rested by books on advanced maths, which I ignored, and the society reflected was an educated thinking populace. Not, it must be said, a better one, although many thought they were, but a ‘thinking’ population. Here we are blest by Jilly Cooper……

Fighting past the hordes who stand with their pushchairs blocking the passageways, getting as close to the stall with the radio tuned to the football, and wondering just how the fat woman over there will ever attract folk to her driving lessons when surely if she enters a car it will tip to one side, passing the man selling cheap watches, my last one from him lasted exactly 24 hours, and resisting the attractions on offer at the ‘Wimpy’ bar I make for home.

Watching the queue at the cashpoint I wonder that there is anything left by this time of day and collect yet another leaflet, not from the ‘Kings Church’ this time, the local music group advertising their next out of tune spectacular. The traffic which has polluted the atmosphere while arriving now does the same on the slow road home. Piled high in the boot are masses of real bargains from the supermarkets that will no doubt be thrown out rotten and unused in the weeks to come. It lies alongside the desperately wanted shiny new objects that will soon lie gathering dust under the bed or broken on the floor of the kids room.

Cynical, who me?

Maybe, but this is real life, well, with a slight exaggeration here and there, and I suddenly find I love it. How funny. This is home, in spite of it all, and it’s better than some places I’ve been.

I must be sick…….

You know it is not your day when............

You know it is not your day when the automatic doors at ‘Tesco's’ do not open and you walk straight into them. You continue the luck by finding your newspaper is not available, and the bread that you desperately long for is no longer obtainable. The unfairness of life smacks you in the face at this point. The point is where other people’s lack of appreciation for the things you love costs you dear!

Of course the day can get better, however wet you get walking home in the rain, but you know it won't. The water bill is lying behind the door, it joins the Gas and Electric ones in the 'This can wait for another day' tray. Stretching back with the morning coffee your eye catches the calendar and note the birthday that you thought is next week occurs today! As you jump to find a card and stop a family disaster the coffee helpfully falls over your laptop.

Just three hundred and twelve more days before the year ends. It seems a long time............

How to be an Idiot

First, buy glasses. The old pair are of course broken by being dropped carelessly on a hard floor. Take a trip to the cheape...er best optician in town. Be open to the suggestion of having 'Varifocal' lenses. Pay large sums for what seems a good idea. At first sight it works! Hooray!
Within a week you realise, it doesn't! Booooo!

Buy a laptop! Super idea. Great for trips up north to Edinburgh, and using back there. Discover modem don't work. New modem sent, no instructions on how to fix it. Discover old modem works on Com 6, but new one uses com 5! Why? Don't know, but doesn't work either. E-mail tech. 'Use the disk to put it right.' OK. Disk says, 'use DOS.' DOS says, 'Insert diskette.'
THERE IS NO DISKETTE! So that don't work. Explain why to tech. 'Use disk,' they say.
%$"@!#* say I.
Like a weegie it still don't work......

So, the bath is separating from the tiles on the wall. Simple. Buy some of that white stuff in a tube, and apply. Well, first buy the gun to actually get the stuff out of the tube, then apply. When finished going around the bath, putting the loose tiles back, and breaking in...or two, leave it to slowly begin setting while I do the same in the kitchen. Return to the bath to smooth it all out and tidy the work. Find it has already dried hard! No-one mentioned it was quick drying! Oh, we will fix that....tomorrow......

Get Freeview TV. Buy box. Spend hours fixing the 'simple' cables. Discover it doesn't work!
Decide a new ariel is needed. Rush to Argos. The slowest moving company in the world. Watch headless chickens run around in the back shop, while NONE attend to the ever growing mass of people rushing to the collection point at the bodyless instructions behest. Hours later, receive new ariel. Spend afternoon building it, then rebuilding it properly. Doesn't work! It does not pick up the digital signal! Visit Tesco. Buy cheap indoor ariel, which works. Also buy connector box to bring Tv, Freeview box and VCR onto one control point. Video does not work! Wrong box.
Burst into tears.........

Support the Heart of Midlothian. Wait forty to fifty years for success. Be inspired when George Burley is brought in buy new Lithuanian multi millionaire, and success dawns! Burley sacked when top of the league and many points clear. New man, Rix, brought in amidst recriminations and crocodile tears. Rix lets slip the fact that Vlad insists on picking team. Outcry! Again world about to collapse. Remain in second spot even now, awaiting the defeat of Hibernian in the semi final of the cup, glory is just around the corner. We know what that means eh!

Just back from Tesco. No need to buy anything till Monday. Then I will do the main shop. Great, Saturday with the shops full makes for no pleasure whatsoever!
Discover I have forgotten the bread!
Burst into tears again........

How to be an idiot? Easy, very easy.....

Pickle

I am in a pickle!
I buy a large jar of 'Tesco' pickle instead of the normal size. This is my way to save pennies.
But I cannot get it opened!
I use all my strength, all my initiative, all the tricks, yet it will not move!
I am afraid the jar might break if I try harder.

So I get out the hand strengthening tools, work hard pumping to build up the finger power,
and now I cannot get the jar open.
Why?
The muscles in my hand hurt to much from all the extra exercise!

The jar is in the bin.