My Joy Continues

Returning home yesterday morning from St Paul's where I had been persuaded to add my name to the church booklet (does this mean I'm an Anglican heretic?) I discovered the place swarming with these bees.  The kitchen was full of the brutes and having cleared them out I spent the rest of the day forcing more, in one's and two's, out of other windows.
Where did they come from?
I have a horrid idea that a Queen has found a home in the side of the house and we will have this lot all summer buzzing around the kitchen window, hovering across my delicacies and being annoyed by my swiping them with a rolled up newspaper.
Oh joy!

  
How old is this oak tree?  This one has sat here near a p-lace called 'Hanging Hill' for many a day.
i wonder if it is 300 years old or thereabouts?  They do last a long time.
Whether 'Hanging Hill' was used for hangings has not yet been proved but the name comes from somewhere.  Possibly a corruption of an old English word, possibly where they hanged miscreants. Rough justice in these parts in days gone by.  There again the justice was served by the local nobles and not near this place, and hangings took place shortly after sentence unless you were an important bod. 
So who planted the trees down by the river?  Did they occur naturally or was there a plan?  I suppose we will never know.  Today this is a pleasant but muddy wander along the unseen river at this point.  That appears later when a wooden path has been constructed. 

The far banks were until recently the grounds of a convent of some sort.  Here the nuns and their visitors could relax and contemplate while pushing one another into the river for fun.  Next time I take the bike out I will trundle down the councils newly laid path that runs around this area and see if I can find anything interesting.
Treasure chests, dead bodies, plastic bottles and empty beer cans possibly. 

The rain clouds, complete with a tiny airplane, threatened me all the time I wandered along.  Pah!

Now I have to spend the morning furniture shifting, wall painting (which will go on for ever at my rate) and go to the museum for an afternoons volunteer get together.  When, ask I, will I get my siesta?  

From Darness to LIght as it Were

Here is a picture of a tree.
The sky above is blue, with a hint of cloud and the stream from a passing jet liner.
The grass is green, the sun bright.
I mention this in comparison to the Eurovision Song Contest which is on telly at this very moment.
This however I cannot confirm as my laptop, like me, is musically minded and will not allow it to be turned on.  This laptop has some taste I can tell you.
The difference between light and darkness is seen between the sun filled park and the dark concert hall.  One has bright sunshine with birds singing, the other bright flashing lights with birds singing badly.  One brings contentment the other bribery from that nice Mr Putin.
Sadly having tried again the TV now works on here and I turned on to find an overacting young man with expensive jeans ripped at the knees pouting into the mike and making me reach for the off switch.
I first saw this contest when Pearl Carr & Teddy Johnson won it and that must have been around 1960.  Cliff Richard and Sandie Shaw both featured at one time but rarely if ever did music make an appearance.  Bland songs or exhibitionist crooners certainly appear and at one time the songs made an impression on the pop charts, they never do now.  Indeed it's just horrible.
Years ago in spite of my entreaties I failed to get the family to switch this off in times past so I could watch the football on the other side, for some reason they considered this tripe important and sat entranced discussing the bubblegum music that was laid in front of them.  It appeared to me they enjoyed it and I remain surprised even after all those years.  Even today there are people who hold parties just for this occasion while music lovers everywhere sit watching paint dry and feeling somewhat more satisfied than the party goers.
Why is this contest so popular?
Apart from the fact that almost nobody knows the words of any song and few indeed are ever memorable only the judging and points totals make it interesting for many.  This is incredible considering half of eastern Europe must vote correctly or Russia invades, France will not vote for Anglaterre (They still refuse to call it Britain the racists!), Russia will not vote for Poland nor will they give much support to Ukraine!  Let aone that so many songs follow on quickly one after another that few can remember what went before. They all run into one another like the 'bland leading the bland.'  One day proper musicians rather than the leftovers of Radio 2's late night output might appear and bring something new and interesting to the show.  I suppose this is what is popular today, empty music with no depth, flashing lights, rivalry at the count but little reality.  It speaks for people today.
The Anglaterre attempt has arrived, a two man Boy Band with a drum set each for no apparent reason and quick changing camera images and more flashing lights making me run for the sights far from the blandness and the monotone that is Graham Norton.  I'm off to the park even if the night is dark.

          

Chilling in the Chill

You can tell it is almost Spring as the rain falls full of snow, slushy snow.  Today however it relented and saturated the world during the night leaving us a clear sunny day.  It didn't bother to turn up the sun however, 5C at most, and with a northern wind to cut through those daft enough to leave the fireplace.  
As I am daft and was becoming desperate to get out and about in the real world for a change I did this and wandered through the Gardens after they opened this morning to find a pair of Mallards who visited the pool.  The wife was dozing and the man looked half awake, very much the Sunday Morning expression from both of them.  Probably they flew by late yesterday and found the pool and thought it might feed them, a bit doubtful about this but the rivers are close by so they will by now have fed well.  Once they placed fish in this pond and wondered why they had vanished.  I never told anyone that I saw a Heron sitting on the edge of the pond one morning, I think that told the story.  They no longer stock the pond.

   

There has been a lot of work going on in the gardens and chopping down aged, sick or damaged trees is one of the things that has been done.  Here we see two that have been put to some use as seats.  A good idea as they don't like wasting things and the trees have done their bit for over a hundred years.  The kids will certainly like these.

From the delights of green grass, blue flowers, singing birdies and wide open spaces I returned to traffic hold ups right outside my door.  Not for the first time, but thankfully not on the busiest day, they are digging in the road and stopping vehicles outside my door, how nice of them.  During the week when they last did this I enjoyed a variety of appalling music played at enormous decibel levels sufficient to enlighten the men travelling to Mars what music the driver appreciated!  Today was less so but the base is something that requires sorting in some vehicles.  Where is my spade...?

 
For the past few weeks I have been constantly sipping those energy drinks from cheap plastic bottles, mostly Lucozade types, in an effort to keep myself alive.  Yesterday I bought this type for the simple reason it was cheaper, much cheaper. Late last night I saw why, I couldn't open it!  With previous bottles I just ignored the ludicrous 'teat' on the top (I prefer real ones) and twist the thing open.  This I could not do!  I struggled and swore and sweated and gripped harder and said rude words but it would not turn.  I was therefore forced to drink through the 'teat!'  However this meant removing the wee plastic guard on top and this I could not do!  I pressed it, I twisted it I pulled and even used my teeth on it but it would not come off.  Much later, desperately hauling away I got the blasted wee plastic bit to remove itself.  Then came the fight with the 'teat' itself.  That soon opened, and the stuff shot out everywhere, but I got my reward though my day was now over.
Today I picked up a second bottle and it twisted off straight away!
I hate them!

                         

A Literate Post.

Pied Beauty
By Gerard Manley Hopkins

 
Glory be to God for dappled things –
   For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
      For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
   Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
      And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
   Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
      With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
                                Praise him. 
Poetry Foundation

I thought of this as I crossed into the park this afternoon.  The light was dappling everything and a very summery outlook lay all around, even though this is Autumn.  You can tell it's Autumn by the leaves lying around, and the rain to come next week will no doubt bring them all down.  The dappled leaves and trees were attractive and I wished to make the most of them before they disappear for the winter.

No Time to Post...

No time to post, it's late, nothing happened and I am watching Norwich play Middlesborough!  This means I have no time to discuss the men painting the outside of the house, the election, the weather or indeed the struggles in the supermarkets (that self service machine in Morrison's will get it one day).   I could wax lyrical about working out how to make the mobile phone I never use (I have no friends anyway) work as a radio!  Indeed that works, the internet doesn't, I suppose I need to join an ISP, the text doesn't, my niece made that work but all it said for me was 'cabbage,' and now it will not work.  But nothing else happened.
So here is the sun shining through some trees.

Something to Crow About

After an indolent Sunday in which not much occurred I forced my bundle of lard out on the bike for twenty minutes this morning.  This was not a good idea.  For a start the engine was not happy, indeed it was heavy, lethargic and worse still facing the eastern wind.  Strangely the enthusiasm of the other day had left this engine and the grunting as the speed touched four miles an hour was similar to that heard at women's tennis matches.  Also I met the early morning boys racing to work, some indeed awake but one or two clearly far from it.  Those chaps who have to cover 15 miles before eight o'clock to get into work were not happy to be stuck behind me avoiding the holes in the road, especially as they only had fifteen minutes to cover the ground.  It also did appear that if the women's cycle race does come this way in June then a lot of roadworks will be required.  Lots of drains at the side are two inches deep from the surface, some surfaces are very rough and recent repairs are sinking already.  I suspect more late night overtime for some is coming this way soon.
I survived the main road and turned off down the side streets to avoid the wind and found it there before me.  Quite how it knows where I will be at any one time is interesting.  Also many workers were beginning the day with a Monday morning smile as they backed the car out, walked the dog or shouted at the kids as they prepared for school.  Always a gentleman I allowed them to go first, smiling indulgently as I have none of that stress these days and I was busy dreaming off the breakfast that my weary hulk was desperate for.
Going down the gant (see Gant) as I headed for the teapot I stopped at the noise high above.  These trees, oaks mostly, have for many years, possibly hundreds of years, been home to the crows (or are they Rooks?).  This is a sample of the nests high above with a few of the birds cawing loudly, very loudly if you are trying to sleep in the house at the foot of the trees, cawing and jumping about while preparing for Spring.  In a few months young birds will arrive and spend the day screeching loudly, so loud you can hear them for miles above the traffic!   I wonder if these houses sell well?

Now it's home for a healthy Multiseed bread breakfast with lots of healthy stuff to keep me on the run. The deepening gray sky flowing in from the east indicates life will not offer much fun today and I may well spend more time hurting my eyes on the laptop rather than enjoying the world outside.

Later.
Typical, the gray sky forecast faded away and I could have made more use of the time.  Bah!  Ah well, back to bed to make up for it...

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Free Day eh?

The two crows moved steadily, intent on their destination.  Behind them transparent white clouds streaked the deep blue of the morning sky.  Two tall trees, resplendent in their greenery, brightened the day as their leaves twittered in the breeze.  A female blackbird hopped several paces and stopped, cocking her ear to listen for movement underground.  She hopped three steps more, then again, continuing on her way, coming close to me, happy that I was not going to disturb her routine.  In the distance a female form with white top stood in the shadow of the trees.  She gazed into the distance as if awaiting someone yet no other movement could be seen. Two cyclists, independent of one another passed by, both wearing those lime green 'Hi-Viz' vests, ideal for crossing a near empty park in bright sunshine.  A young women paced by with determined expression, laptop grasped tightly in hand. Someone out to change the world perhaps, a young lawyer about to save the needy, or a businesswomen heading for financial utopia I wondered.  My existence appeared to mean little to her. 'White top' had moved.  She had come out of the shadows and now at last I saw her understandable reason for hesitation, a small black dog.  This, possible a 'Scottie,' ambled slowly, content like me to let the world pass by but keeping at a distance from the woman just in case she urged speed upon him. 
So the world awake early today.  At last I had two whole days to myself, this was guaranteed yesterday when I covered for someone who was off, but turned up anyway.  This was my time, time to relax, sleep, consider the Great War only if I felt like it and iron those shirts the au pair ignored.

Having shopped even earlier I returned home to healthy thick brown bread full of bits and filled it with unhealthy bacon!  I read the grubby online papers full of wonder at how they failed to ask why that editor women got off 'scot free!'  Did David Cameron's brother defend her at a cost of £20,000 a day? Was the prime minister's intervention that came so close to scrapping the trial, at enormous cost, a deliberate device I ask?  Yet the papers appear to play this down.  The law works different for important people.  I mused for a while, looked at the ironing board, and sat in the bath even though it was not a Sunday.  This was a day for enjoyment.
Then I returned to my e-mail.  I like e-mail, it is a great way to stay in touch, it avoids needless chatter, gets to the point and brings folks together so well.  Not counting Mary who abused me for not liking tennis, something she has been glued to since this nonsense began!  Boring I say, get it off the screen.  I'd rather talk to a woman about her baby!
Then it happened.  I had finished one of the items I was writing, my delightful boss has now read it and sent it back using this 'word' system that allows corrections.  I had a long list of corrections, adjustments, recommendations to attend to.  This I did once I worked out what to do.  Helpfully I returned this and also finished the second piece this time readjusting it to make more sense.  However not long afterwards she enquired as to where the thing was, it had not arrived and the reason was simple, me!  Not only had I not linked it to her I had not saved the blasted thing after finishing it!  The only action was to redo the whole lot!  'Na Poo' to this I thought!  So back it went, no doubt the second one will have just as many red lines on it.  My teachers at school were not this bad!
Then the other e-mail arrived.  Tomorrow I must go in again, as well as Saturday, as a girls sick dad has died.  This was expected as he is aged and very sick.  A second lass is off tomorrow as her dad is close to following on also.  I'm going to ask for a wage soon!
The advantage of being in is taking the laptop and working at the desk.  Hopefully it will be quiet and I can get on but if busy I will just write a story, 'Living death in the museum!' Oh yes and now I must iron a shirt....
Time for football and sleep.  Who will join the USA in the next round, I know not as I have no idea who is playing yet.  Oh sleep, wherefore art thou mush?

  
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Dreich Day All Round

What a dreich day!  The sky remained gray, often filled with rain, and I wondered about between showers avoiding puddles in case the shoes leaked, they still managed it mind.  The highlight was jumping on the free bus to Freeport and buying two T-shirts that might fit!  I have had enormous trouble finding such garments that not only fit but do not shrink after the first wash. The charity shop is pleased with my buying so far this year.  These items are all made in the far east, usually China or Bangladesh these days, and the Chinese, mostly wee folk about 5 foot 3 inches tall appear fooled into thinking that what they call 'XL' is actually large.  Sadly to me it is more like what we call 'M' and that is before it is washed and shrinks to just above 'S.'  Just who decided asking Lilliputians to make clothing for fat folks better built people was a good idea I ask?  Tsk! These two T-shirts have been made by underpaid employees in a Sri Lankan sweatshop and at first sight fit well.  This means they will be down to 'L' by the first wash and probably 'M' by the second! Grrrrrrr!  Good job they were at a reduced price....

Now I think of it I buy jeans from Tesco, I no longer buy their shrinking T-shirts, and even though I buy the same size jeans each time each pair is slightly different!  The Rupees the Bangladeshi makes from this sale (£6) will not do much for her I guess.  

Nothing else happened. No news worth mentioning, no cards or presents fell through the door, no invites to parties or grub, nothing happened yet again! The kids will be off school now, standing at the windows looking for a fat man on a sleigh, not that you will see him fro the gray clouds above. The mums and dads will be looking also, at the next Credit Card bill when it arrives.  Many's a light will be turned off in those houses next month!  The media will be glad there is no real news, just the usual murder, corruption et al, and they newsrooms can relax and discuss their trips to South Africa, show the family their pictures and chat about the people they met.  The fiddling of expenses will be done later.  The football pages rejoice that they have removed the Spurs manager, one thing they have attempted since the season began, and are now looking towards West ham where the man in charge and his results will be the next to be put under the microscope, discussed (ignorantly for the most part) and his boss pressurised to sack him to give the press a story to fill their pages. Now I am not being cynical here, but they are!  

This is however the last week for a Christmas shop.  Panic buying will set in, men obtaining those frilly negligee's for their wives (returned and replaced with flannelette ones the week after Christmas), children will be demanding expensive goods not available in a any local shop, mums planning the dinner (as they ought) and some greedy shopkeepers rubbing their hands with glee while sympathising with their customers.  Soon be all over and Valentines cards will replace the Christmas ones and Easter eggs appear in the shops.

Mind you I like the eggs...

Life goes on however, whatever we fuss about.  The birds nestling in the wind shaken treetop care little for our concerns.  The face the wind as it howls towards them wishing the leaves had remained a little longer.  Our trials mean nothing up in that tree, life continues as it always has up there.

   

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Dawn, George and Storm

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

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

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

  

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

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

      .

Extravaganza, almost.....

Well not as much of an extravaganza as we had hoped.  The town lit the Christmas lights tonight and this meant the museum joined in.  Marcel offered his Punch and Judy, balloons and stuff, fun and games were on offer and the Twirling lassies performed.  However it appears most who came into town were drawn away from us by the variety of attractions elsewhere.  The shop was nowhere near as busy as hoped and far too few of the regulars were around today.  This Sunday, being the first of the month has tempted everybody to put on a show at the same time and left us all bereft.  Enough came to make it worth their while and we were happy chatting to those who arrived.  Much of the early morning was spent attempting to get three 'pricing guns' to work. I feel we failed at that!  How is it that something that is so easy to operate is impossible to reload?  Not one person had any idea, and four of us were at it at one point!  They still don't work, probably caused by the bashing they received.  

They would not let me on the train!  Pity, I like trains and as a kid always thought these roundabout wonderful attractions.  The other open with  variety of transport on board used to fascinate me, especially if we could climb upstairs.  The kids love them still, and only £2 a go, we used to pay 3d if I remember right.  

The girls attempted to do the Majorettes thing in spite of the cold sunshine.  Few were watching bar passersby heading into town, probably to the coffee stalls.  The girls appeared happy enough and I am told get around the country doing their show.

Some of the usual stalls appeared, all the way from Italy, via north London I expect.  Vast array of goodies on show which are beyond my miserly pocket.  This is a shame because all the fattening bread they and others offer I find delightful.  Mind you it does cost over £3 a go!  

  
I reckon this van did itself a lot of good today.  Both they and the fudge stall next door must have loosened a few purse strings, especially as they were right in the centre of activity.  Parents were pulled this way and that by eager kids, an occasional balloon would escape the owners hands flying, Helium powered, high into the sky, leaflets were shoved into unwilling hands for this and that, stallholders cries were renting the air, machinery ground away as turntables ran their course and almost smiling security men wandered, alert, through the throng.  It was good to see happy families with the kids, well cared for it appeared, occasional adolescents in the throes of first love strolled shyly hand in hand, six foot snowmen and furry animals greeted young children while the balloon seller wandered abroad with twenty balloons high above him leaving me wondering why he does not take off?  I left early as there were plenty of peoples to deal with things and headed home for the football, about which nothing shall be said.  The rest entertained with a choir, offered hot punch and lit the lights on the tree outside.  The council enlivening the decorations with blue lights on the town centre trees as opposed to an actual Christmas one (which of course has nothing whatsoever to do with Christmas!).  They looked good and I went out in an attempt to picture them.  

 
The night pictures are not too successful tonight as I did not take the time, too much clearing up going on and vehicles knocking me over were a bit of a nuisance.  However the roundabout was not too bad.

The place is quickly bereft as folks race home to eat their fill.  The kids grasping those balloons, some shaped by Marcel into dogs, spacecraft or swords, mum wondering if they are going to sleep with their faces painted like tigers or clowns, parents happy to get their feet up and watch trash on the telly.  For many an enjoyable day out.

Dreich Sunday

Dreich, damp, dismal, and looking to depreciate further.  The weather appears to be doing the same!  Trees are rapidly losing their leaves, standing stark against the intermittent drizzle.  Yet one bush in a garden appeared to have buds in Spring like mode.  They will not like what they see if they open any time soon.  The drizzle drizzled all day.  I moped, managing to do nothing but watch Bradford City play Coventry, most interesting that was!  Then I moped, a bit more, attempted to discover why a road was given the name 'Grenville,' in the early part of the 20th century, failed, and did the decent thing, gave up!  

However, regarding the left handed jibes the other day that nice man Dominic offered us an interesting, musical piece regarding a left handed piano.  This is one is a must for music lovers, who are left handed......  

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A Boring Picture...

That, says you, is a boring picture.  Aye, agrees me, but I like it.  I like it because the sky in the background looked good, the autumnal trees show their colours and it shows that I was once again wandering across the park.  It has been almost three weeks since I done this.  Three weeks since what some women call a 'wee chill,' and all men agree is a serious bout of 'Man-Flu,'  laid me low and ruined my life.  It's ridiculous that something that used to come and go in three days takes almost three weeks now.  Can it be the virus is changing, or is it my health failing?  The muck that fills the skies unseen cannot be doing us any good, it also may well be changing the way virii adapt.  What a great difference a day makes.  Yesterday I attended the museum but was far from awake.  I sat there staring into space rather than doing anything, disturbed only when a few stragglers entered.   I was glad it was quiet, but the museum needs visitors.  Today however I was almost alive and raced out slowly to peruse the market and keep my cash in my pocket.  I did however notice a lass drop a bit paper.  As I arrived on the spot it turned into a £5 note, this meant running at least seven steps to catch up with her. I still have not recovered!  

In an attempt to find a prettier picture I ventured out this afternoon, eyes peeled for enticing sights.  Sadly few appeared under this ever darkening gray sky.  However the falling leaves can produce interesting pictures, however whether this is one is debatable.  

As luck would have it the foto opportunities enlarged as a poor soul required aid from the first response unit.  This has parked in the bay as he ought but the following ambulance just stopped in the centre of the road.  Probably a woman driver I would conclude myself.  The traffic behind may grumble as it is impossible to pass, but most will accept this.  Hopefully the patient will survive, the trip to the nearest hospital is fifteen miles away!  However in spite of the Tories desperate attempts to sell the NHS to their friends it exists still and the cut down ambulance service still manages to save lives in spite of them. Sometimes we forget just how lucky we are to have an ambulance at the other end of a phone.  We take such benefits for granted, benefits not always available, nor so efficient, elsewhere. 

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Troubled Thursday

How sad to see the tree surgeons in the park again today.  The powers that be have been around checking the state of the trees that have dwelt here for over a hundred and what years.  The report was not good.  Several have become diseased and have to be removed.  Sadly these are amongst the best of the trees.  Whoever planned the gardens in the eighteen somethings really have a good eye for the future.  The trees he planted have survived the family, the school that later occupied the building, two wars, droughts and have now succumbed to disease.  Nothing to do but stand clear as the chap way up top drops the branches to the ground and await the new saplings that hopefully will be planted to replace the fallen.  

Yes the debate continues as we speak, although the outcome has been predetermined by arrangement between the leading men.  The arguments have been put forward on all sides, the members who wish the leaders of their party to notice them ensuring they say exactly what the leaders wish them to say, the 'mavericks,' making sure the leaders on all sides hear their point of view also.  It matters not.  The decision to bomb to Assad to stop him using his chemical weapons (a phrase used repeatedly by Cameron et al to ensure you heard) has already been taken long, long ago of course.  The plans are laid, RAF jets have moved to Cyprus, once again doing the hard work F16's can't manage, and concern for the 250 or so dead in the recent outrage fills the governing classes.  As people in Damascus point out "did they not care for the 100,000 already dead then?"  

Two links worth reading, from one of the UK's better journalists.

Alex Thomson  Alex Thomson 2

Troubled days.  Not only are we heading for a long Iraq 2 but the trees in the park are failing.  On top of this I see people known to me via the media all my life dying off, Cliff Morgan the Welsh sportsman died the other day, aged 83.  The shortness of life suddenly clings and I have not done what I wish I had done.  So many things to change for the better, so many things wrong.  I happened to look at a nearby town on Google Maps the other day and found myself on the road at the edge of town.  The fields spread away into the distance and the view from the neat rows of bungalows would be most enjoyable, had they not all placed net curtains at them!  What do they do this for?  It struck me most of these were retired folks and I realised many of them were just waiting to die, slowly and possibly alone, but many with no purpose any more.  It all seemed so sad as it doesn't have to be like that!  No doubt many are happy enough and Syria does not bother them much.  It will when Cameron taxes their pension to pay for the Tornados and Typhoons he is sending to Syria.

Still, there is yet another football match, tucked away of ITV4 tonight, and having that in the background keeps life ticking over.   

This strange looking (eastern europe maybe) car was in the car park today.  No idea what is was and he appears to be having trouble winding up the rubber band.  I thought at first it was a 'trabant,' but those tough little cars were modelled on old Fiats.  This is a new one on me, but as noisy, though less smokey, than any Trabant I have come across.  I would have spoken to him but he might have wanted a push, so I went for breakfast instead.

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Greenery

The picture looks a bit bland, that's because it is.  The wee camera does not do distance very well and if I had left my bench and gone closer some nasty thieving type would have taken my place.  They are very selfish like that around here.  So I took the pic from where I sat and ruminated awhile.  
It was the green that caught my eye.  You see we notice it all around us each day, especially after the rain we have endured, but we never 'see' it.   I have noted this before, many times, but few notice what we see as it's so obvious, it stares in our faces daily.  I suspect gardeners will be well aware of this but maybe not.  What I am seeing is the vast shades of green in those trees.  there is at least six shades there, allowing how your PC reads the colours of my picture, and there are many more shades of green around.  
This park began as the home of a rich man, the gardens surrounding the building were planned by a clever chap whoever he was.  The wide and interesting variety of trees today stand tall yet the designer could see this only in his minds eye.  After forty years and the money running out the house became a school for girls for decades.  A while back, just after the building had been reopened as flats, I passed a grinning woman walking over a grass verge.  Her happiness came from walking where she had once been banned on pain of death!  It took forty years but she was now skipping like a Spring lamb!
Small pleasures are the best!
I am making the most of the greenery.  The nights are drawing in, it was darkish by eleven last night and Christmas gods will be in the shops soon, some folks are ahead of us in this already!
So I am getting what I can when it is there.


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Jack Frost

At just before 12 noon on the 12th day of the 12th month of the 2012th year of our Lord I took this picture of our frozen landmass.  The sun was at its zenith and having had my hair cut shortly before I can tell you the suns batteries had run out!  The novelty of 12 noon on 12/12/12 did not occur to me at the time.  I was merely attempting to record the front covered country around us.

This sight as I woke explained why the air had been so cold during the night.  This sort of thing is fine up north, Inverness played Ross County where the temperature was -5 at 7:45 kick off last night, these folks expect such horrors, I don't.  However there is something fabulous about a frost bitten land when the sun shines upon it.  Another 24 hours and all this will turn to our more usual rain.  Oh joy!

Oh Spring, wherefore art thou pal? 

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Trees

Trees

I Tthink that I shall never see 

A poem lovely as a tree. 

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest 

Against the sweet earth's flowing breast; 

A tree that looks at God all day, 

And lifts her leafy arms to pray; 

A tree that may in summer wear 

A nest of robins in her hair; 

Upon whose bosom snow has lain; 

Who intimately lives with rain. 

Poems are made by fools like me, 

But only God can make a tree. 

Joyce Kilmer

Dull Tuesday

The bright sun that enlivened the world has faded into gray, with added rain.  Quite how we survive in these appaling conditions I fail to understand.  People blessed with constant hot weather sometimes cry out for rain, pffft!  There is no pleasing some people!   This tree however appears pleased to have been here for some time, it reminds me of an Olive tree, surely it can't be, not here?  Judging by the trunks girth it has put on the weight since it first appeared, but how long ago I wonder?  Could it have grown from seeds left by the Roman chappies all those years ago?  Well no, there is a line of them carefully planted.  Are they really Olives or have I drunk too much coffee?

A combination of the lurgi and gray skies forced me to spend the day as a slob, much against my will!  The sleeps I had were purely for medicinal reasons and nothing else.  I fed my aches, looked for my brain and failed to find it, and read blogs that appeal.  I think they will appeal to your twisted intellects also.  Especially Robert's.  This man attempts to write short stories of a mere hundred or so words, and his mind 'meanders' into strange places he says, I think he is right in saying this.  It is worth browsing his blog for a moment.  I am convinced most people would wish to know more.  'Mulled Vine.'

The sight of large fat men and women showing how many pizzas they have stuffed into themselves through the winter has annoyed many of us.  I am quite happy to see thin female flesh in the park but recent days have found the cry "Cap'n Ahab! Thar she blows!" escape my lips just once too often.  Even Edinburgh with the perpetual Haar over the Forth and the gray skies desperate to blight the city has seen blue skies and sunshine I have heard.  This has brought out the chip supper and pizza lovers allowing the famous author Mike Smith to release his feelings on the subject.  This will win him much support, world wide I suspect.  Well not from fat folks.  I declare my interest in this in that I always keep my shirt on!  Read and enjoy 'Auld Reekie Rants.'

If however you wish to see the world in a new way you require a picture blog, of which there are billions!  There is one that gives a fresh eye on London that is always worth a look.  It's called 'Fresh Eye on London.'  Take a gander wontcha!

If however you are merely a man of culture and sophistication then I have discovered a site you dare not miss!  'Railscot.'  Men of culture and sophistication will love it!  

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Timber!

Just a bit peeved at the site of trees that have been chopped down.  In the UK removing trees requires permission from the local authorities because of a variety of reasons.  So I was surprised to find the folk controlling the old railway line have chopped down lots of the trees that graced the path.  I accept many were getting old, and that one or two looked a bit dicey, but there is now a row of stumps awaiting beasties to move in.  The colour is much brighter than my picture shows, it appears a bit feeble on this laptop so use your imagination here.  The bright yellow wood stands out against the leafless trees and not yet grown weeds around.  No doubt the Rangers know what they are doing, but it still seems a pity to lose so many lovely trees.

Joyce Kilmer. 1886–1918 119. Trees I THINK that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree.   A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;   A tree that looks at God all day,         And lifts her leafy arms to pray;   A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins in her hair;   Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain.     Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. Bartleby                                         Joyce Kilmer   (A man by the way) .

The World Has Gone Mad!

Daily Mail

For one our PR PM has decided to have a Cabinet meeting in the middle of the new made 'Handball Court' at the Olympic Stadium!  Here the first Cabinet of the year ignored the dicey economy, the unemployed, the tax dodging by his friends and instead concentrated on advertising the white elephant that is the Olympics. You may have guessed that I am not too enamoured by the Olympics, I like some aspects, people throwing things, weightlifting and a few other events, but so much of it is boring and will take up more TV time than Wimbledon does.  I also think it would have been better to let the French have it, then they can pay at least £9 Billion for it!  Obviously the World Cup was more important but long ago, when Manchester attempted to get the Olympics, the powers that be decided they wanted it and it had to be in London, Manchester not being important enough to London based politicians and business types.  'Dave' has told his people to go out and advertise the Games, does he think we don't care?  The reason I suppose is that any benefits, if any, will go to London and the rest of the nation will be paying for this but getting nothing back.  Much effort has gone in to spread the events, less to bring benefits and more to ease the grumbling about paying for London's Games.  These Games will of course reverse the recession Dave' will they?  Clearly no real discussion of any relevance took place here, that will occur tomorrow when the real Cabinet meets, and far too many microphones desperate to listen in to the blubbering mistakes which sadly did not occur, but 'Dave' will be happy with the publicity stunt, he likes those.

What? Me cynical.....?

Daily Mirror

Another aspect of the world going mad is 'No Pants Day,' as you can imagine this is an American idea!  Who else would consider large numbers of people sitting on trains with no trousers on and revealing acres of peelly wally flesh as fun?  It certainly would not have begun life in Scotland! It ought of course to be 'No Trousers Day' but as you know our colonial brethren are illiterate and wrongly attribute names where they ought not.  Will they ever learn?  The 'Daily Mirror' site contains more pictures and a video, which I assure you I have decided to avoid, as I am not convinced that revelations of what is inside a trouser leg ought to be made this way, or indeed in any other. Such pranks, while containing an element of humour, can also reveal much, indeed a great deal, that ought to remain hidden!  More Man Flu (and women's minor chills) on the way I can tell.

My tired and weary body dragged itself into town again this morning, and I decided to go with it, grumbling that I wished to remain abed for another day.  However the trip was not too bad, in fact the numbers of passengers were low and entirely free from needless acres of flesh being pressed into my eyesight by 'No Pants Day' militants.  In fact traffic everywhere was quiet today, some folks still on holiday it appears.  All was refined on the train, in spite of yet another hike in the price of travel and apart from a 15 year old Chav who let us all hear his 'Rap' for two stops.  How I wish that nice man on the Falkirk train was aboard at that moment.  Funnily enough as the said 'ned'  left the train I began to feel sorry for him.  He left the train at a country station and gave an impression of a life of 'Bumpkin' ahead of him.  He looked 15, not very bright, and if he was older he does not have a future as a brain surgeon awaiting him. I wonder if he noticed the other passengers let alone the noise?  In fact I was kind of depressed at the future that lay before him.  I also thought he was a bit like me at 15, stupid!  Where would I be if Jesus had not interfered?  So I didn't shoot him after all.  No doubt a tractor or an angry pig will get him one day.  

My meeting begun early, lasted less than 15 minutes, gave me no sympathy (she was a young woman after all!) and I left for my return train wondering if this was really worth it?  These people are meant to help us unemployed find work, even though there are no jobs, and they do not have any more idea than I have.  Worse still the place was filling up as I left with men of my age beginning their time here, all long term unemployed, most capable, and only one or two shirkers.  What chance have we I ask if we congregate in such numbers?  The Tories wish to stop benefits for those who refuse job offers, what job offers?  They want unemployed to work for free, where?  In short, rather than create jobs they fill the 'Daily Mail' with pledges and attacks on benefit scroungers.  I can tell them some of us wish we were working and do not like our situation!  That of course will not please 'Middle England' and the Tory voters prejudice.  

However the good thing was the time waiting to enter and I espied a couple of pics which did not quite work but I quite like anyway.  The third one is on the Foto sight.  The struggling effort has been good for the virus as it appears to be weakened considerably today.  One day soon I will eat again properly.  

Is your name on here somewhere?

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