Cards...

This, the second card to have arrived, reflects somewhat on the sender in my opinion!
Each year we exchange expensive gifts, this year I sent one of those small tubes of coffee costing about 20 pence, this is the reply!  A card designed for those who send large cheques to their family and friends arrives and as the wording tempted me to believe in a fortune awaiting inside I opened it with much anticipation.  Here is the result, one much used worn penny that may have found a home in her shoe for some considerable time stuck to a picture of an old man and his hat!   I mean really!
In times past I have received a short length of glittering blue cord, a chocolate biscuit and a pencil that had been tied in a knot!  When it comes to spending money on great gifts this lass has not yet started!  I imagine her granddaughter will however be piled with vast amounts of gifts none of which will contain a hat with a penny inside!
And what does she mean by 'old man's hat' anyway...?

More old fotos!
I like this one, it speaks of the sea and journeying to far off places on an adventure of some sort.  I am afraid the 'Brent' never quite managed that as it spent most of its life pulling and pushing boats in the Thames around London Docks.  However the time spent near water is never wasted in my mind especially when there are few about, you can enjoy what views there are, note individuals working on their boats and just enjoy an atmosphere very different form that found in car laden towns.  If I ever find the energy I may rush back to Maldon and see how the Tug is preparing for Christmas.

I noted it again today when wandering about the shops, the stress that comes with Christmas.  People are often grumpy and inconsiderate while shopping, the woman are, men are always thoughtful I find, but at this time of the year when the 'season of goodwill to all men' is in operation I find that 'goodwill' is harder to discover than at any other time.  The lassies at the checkout are a wee bit stressed with the constant flow of people but still happier and more considerate than many customers.  I did find one or two decent folks today and while the checkout girl gossiped with one slow old dear I gossiped with a lass who has lost three stone by avoiding sugar!  Sad to say she had to as diabetes arrived but it goes to show how much we can lose.  I considered the two large Xmas puddings, the ice cream, the three small Xmas puddings and the many sweet things I have to stuff down this Xmas and considered a new diet after this is over.  I started some of it today but will slowly remove the rest over time.  How often have I began a new diet...?
Anyway it is a stressful time but it need not be.  Presents must be bought for important people and folks always leave it too late.  Not all are strapped for cash and buying things as the money comes in many can prepare throughout the year but don't and leave it all to the last minute, not a good idea.
The cheerful music, played over and over again until the folks in the shops speak through gritted teeth, does not help matters.  Much is irrelevant to Christmas anyway, soppy and sentimental but meaningless in regard to Christmas itself.  Most cannot be heard from the hubbub below and interestingly while many sing along few will consider visiting a church carol service and join in.  
Ass it is the phrase 'Goodwill to all men' is incorrect.  I believe it actually reads 'Peace to men of goodwill,'  the word 'peace' probably being 'shalom' and having more than just 'peace' in the meaning.  You can check it out for yourselves.  So many phrases we use are incorrect and far from their original meaning.

Football will be on soon, must fly....

A Wander

Ah the dying suns rays brighten the darkest skies!
Actually it would be lighter but I set the camera to the wrong setting and this resulted.  Good enough for me I must say.  Doing that and pointing the camera at the sun gives a better picture as it hides the town beneath it, and that canny be bad.
I sauntered around half dead, I forgot to eat properly again, looking for unusual signs and views with which to entertain myself.  This meant walking slowly, as I do, looking up dreamily at the buildings in the High Street and being accosted by folks rushing past on more normal Saturday duties.  Tsk!  The taxi driver I unwittingly stood in front of was most kind, he picked me up and dumped me at the side of the road after running me down in that side street. 

   
I'm sure someone will know the significance of this flower (?) being placed at the entrance to the parish church.  There is a similar but different one at the other side.

It may just be decoration but it is the first time I have noticed these.  The advantage of actually 'looking' enables you to see what lies in front of you, the things that you ignore just because they are always there!  I still don't know what purpose these met.

Opposite the church door stands a tree that is home to some sort of bird.  Quite a large nest and it is only at this time of year these become exposed.  I wonder what nests here?  In one of the villages the zimmer bus passes through one tree has half a dozen very large nests visible high above the main road.  Clearly home to someone, Crows possibly?

This does not respond to my day!
I found this in a small shop, once upon a time a pub, which sells variety of ice cream to the kids and teenagers also I suspect.  Quite how it survives I do not know but it was open today and with a couple of folk inside.  There were other words on the other windows but this one can be used again and again, about twice a year if the present is anything to go by...

The town has lots of 'Gants.'  These are narrow alleys between buildings in the town centre mostly, the word originating most probably with the Flemish weavers in the middle ages when the arrived here to avoid persecution.  Many moved down the road into Bocking and their trustworthiness was such that the 'Bays & Says' they sold far and wide were never checked on arrival as their honesty was without reproach.  If it said so many yards then that is what you got!  
There were roadsigns placed at the gants a short while ago to remind us of the town's heritage, many being rather obvious such as this one but others being somewhat strange to the eye.

Now work that one out!
This relates to a small pub that once worked from the back door of the building next door to the sign.  There were an enormous number of pubs in this small town, in olden times many found them warmer and more social than their own rather poor housing, but others were cheap and not always so cheerful.  I would not like to guess what this one was like, not what was on the menu!

Can you guess what this is?
Yes indeed, it's used by a small dance company!
This once was the church vestry, used for such meetings and indeed was used by the town council in times past I am told.  Until recently a law firm stored their documents in here but they have moved to safer dwellings, I hope.

Noisy Breakfast

As I haul the brain out of the Valley of Torpor where it has spent the night the last thing I require is a gaggle of screaming Starlings having breakfast outside my window.  Worse indeed is the result of their breeding experiments in that now they are accompanied by a large brood desperate to eat!  The birds spend their time screeching and fighting and flapping wings at the best of times so it is easy to imagine them when several young are attempting to join in.  One or two of these can feed themselves , others require attention from parent but all have breakfast as loudly as possible.  The fact remains that feeding children is never fun at any time.
There are those who have the recurring ideal of the family sitting around the dinner table for foodstuffs and claim this reflects a happy family.  I fail to see this myself.  This is an adults dream, a child just wants fed when hungry and then wishes to play or indulge their own activities.  The 'happy family' ideal has always been a dream.  Some claim technology spoils this but they are wrong.  It used to be TV that got the blame and now it is social media, both wrong, it is merely human nature, kids are not adults and do not share adults perceptions of what matters.

Spring

Spring has been springing all day today, I could see it through the museum window this morning.  However I was only out in it for a wee while afterwards as I had to shop in the charity shop for other people and then eat, something I appear to have forgotten to do recently.
Coming home I was amazed at the leaf filled trees, all those different shades of green, and the joyous sound of the many birds heard at this time, chaffinches, blackbirds, thrushes, robins and many things that I know not the name but love the sound.  The sun shining all day made it better as we are so unused to that.
Very tired, my mind is not working well this week, either not enough protien or carbohydrate or the mind is dyng.  I remembered to shave this morning two minutes before I was about to leave, then I forgot some stuff I had to take with me, and when at work I took my laptop but forgot glasses that enabled me to see what I was writing.
I suppose it's just another day...

Busy Birds

At this time of the evening the Wood Pigeons begin to roost in the trees across the way, trees with leaves beginning to bud now, the Starlings chase one another round high above and the Blackbird and Thrushes take a high spot and inform the world around that this is their patch and he is watching all that goes on within it. 
These poor birds must be tired.  I read somewhere that a small caterpillar appears at this time, dangling forlornly from all the trees where it emerges, and Blue Tits need 18,000 of these to feed their young!  They, like all the rest, spend all day guzzling as much grub as they can so mum can produce eggs and then both spend the day guarding the nest and feeding the chicks when they emerge.  To to this all these birds are chasing the worms and wee beasties and searching  around for hanging feeders that are found in almost every garden these days.  Some say this actually makes the birds prosper better than when all this was farmland as they find food easier and often better prepared for them.  Whether this is so you can decide but one thing is clear they like the Suet and Mealworm pellets found here as I have to refill them daily.  Tomorrow I must go to the 'PoundShop' where they are found and buy more.  It's costing me more to feed these birds than feed myself!  
Mind you money may be flowing out soon, the Hoover, the cheap Tesco variety, was failing to clean and the burning smell was worrying.  That ended when I removed the long shoelace that was entwined around it but it still fails to work.  Later I will have to clean the whole thing out properly and see if that works, tomorrow is museum day all day, and if it fails a new proper one might be needed.  I did splash out (£4) on new scales as clearly my 30 year old ones could not bear the weight were lying to me.  One day I was heavy, the next I lost lots then it all came back again.  The lass in the shop suggested dancing would lose weight as it had clearly done so for her, maybe she was just trying to pick me up, it failed as the thought nearly flattened me.  Me dance, aye right!

Spring!

Robin

The Robin pictured here was helpful enough to stop singing and pose for me while I struggled to work out which button to press on the camera.  Sitting there singing his delightful song while announcing to other Robins or any other bird that he was around, and if any lassie is available here is my phone number.  Possibly my presence stopped him getting a response.  Listening to his call and awaiting a reply I wondered if I would here a reply.  Could it be that with the traffic noise nearby he might yet hear any reply even though I could not I wondered?  
We appear to have a lot of these tough wee birds around here but usually they do not pose.  Possibly he thought me a threat to his territory and was willing to see me off.  He won.  Being you I suspect you are telling me he is a she but I will let that pass, you are just guessing as I was. 

Museum was busy today.  I found an interesting museum type magazine and began to read but found it difficult as every time I picked it up the phone rang.  People booking for one of the events usually.  Back to the mag and someone comes in the door, handle them with care and attention hoping they will pay money and back to the mag.  It took till long after finishing time to get to the back page and then I could read no more as three disparate groups came in to prowl the premises. 
All regulars in one way or another, two groups with 'learning difficulties,' that awful pc tag dumped on them by white middle class know best types and one of the 'University of the 3rd Age' groups.  I find it difficult to see people in their third age university when I never finished one.  
B.A. (failed) that's me.  

Having spent all morning indoors I had to get out and take advantage of the bright sky above that I had been watching through the windows.  With the temperature being so low and the sun in the sky we had a wide variety of colourful skies laden with streaky clouds today.  The sky is always worth noting and in the distance especially there were fabulous colours appearing yet I was unable to turn the camera onto them.  When I eventually left the building the skies had changed and these puffy clouds drifted high above, still bright yet without the hues of earlier.  
The one thing I missed from Edinburgh was the view north across the Firth of Forth towards Fife as the skies there were always attractive, although at this time of the year usually gray and flecked with snow!  Bah!  Yesterdays view of Granton was one of the best in days of yore but with all the flats built there it is not like it was sadly.

It appears there is football on tonight, you will be surprised to hear I am off to watch this.  I hope I can keep awake to the end...


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Away With the Birds

The world has been shrouded in mist today and I had a 'couldn't be bothered' day at that.  However I dragged myself out before noon to wander through the gardens looking for misty pictures.  It has to be said that I was too late, the mist was clearing somewhat and what could have produced interesting shots two hours before offered merely damp scenes now.  
However up on the bare branch sat this Robin singing away to the surrounding world informing them that this was his patch so gerrroutofit and if any passing women were available he wanted his next tidied.   He sat there some time.  
I love the song of such birds, as he is part of the Thrush family like Blackbirds he can sing very well.  The song resounded all around and it is sad that I have no record of his voice to offer.  Maybe I will think quicker next time.  

Gey dreich in the distance however and this is how it was as I plodded homewards.  Dampness all around including my shoes and the chill in the air indicating the mild winter is ending and a cold spell appearing.  This times nicely with the request for my Gas Meter reading which arrived today.  I promptly ran slowly downstairs, read the meter, sent off the numbers and noted how my use of gas has fallen slightly in these last few months.   The gas man will not be happy with this.  He might not be able to make me pay more this time, but he will certainly not reduce the price even if he has got gas cheaper than ever!

While the Robins and other wee birds sang, chased one another and stuffed themselves the Wood Pigeons (which are not made out of wood) merely spent their time sullenly sitting high in the tree gathered together but at a distance from one another.  Rare to see two sit together unless it's hanky panky time.  The people around were similarly morose today, the weather does this.  Therefore I am off to bed to sullenly grumble to myself about the weather and the lack of interesting activities around here.

Hard Work and People

The reason my back aches as much as the knees is this allotment.  Having an easy day they said, which meant working in the allotment.  The goods that grow organic like here are excellent and I wish I had a small garden in which to do the same.  However the bending, cutting, pulling and lifting are no longer aspects of my life and I have few thoughts of going back to them.  This did not make any difference to my friends!  In spite of their various health problems the work had to be done and therefore as I was the youngest and for unknown reasons considered the fittest I had to follow orders.  What was revealed was the level of fitness I possess, a near death experience I think it is called.  Having dragged me all over town, along the beach and up Mont Blanc, through Wareham and dumping rubbish at the council dump I can tell you I was ready for the Friday trip home.  The morning saw desperate prayer as I could not consider a long train trip tired as I was as a jolly.  Prayer of course worked and the trains, and the exchanges were as good as could be!  However by Friday morning I was worn out.  Monday sees me still recovering and my knees not keen on climbing stairs.

Again I embark on one of those exercise periods, this time I must continue this, otherwise I may well die.  

Dawn yesterday promised bad weather according to the proverb, remaining indoors I never really noticed how it went but it did not appear too bad to me.  Should we believe 'Farmers tales?'  There must be something in them as folks who work out of doors always watch the weather and little things attune them to the changes unseen by others.   

One thing about being back home is it means I do not have to watch others TV choices.  The missus relaxes after her hard work by making use of brain dead TV, 'Murder She Wrote,' 'Heartbeat' and 'NCIS' being the favourites.  These I watched with no remarks regarding the stilted acting, the bad scripts, the hairstyles (of the men!) or the endings, which were obvious, no I stayed quiet all through wondering if having my teeth pulled would make for more enjoyment.  

In 1978 I got rid of the TV.  I did without one until 1986 when the World Cup forced me to obtain a freebie when neighbours left for the richer suburbs.  Since then football, news, a documentary or two are about the only things I watch.  The so called drama these days is mere soap operas but soap opera with guns, explosions and near naked women, real original drama with new story lines, original events and proper acting appear rare.  Placed alongside a diet of house programmes and bloody cooks I find little of joy on telly these days.  There are good things available if you search hard enough but only rarely.  The demands of advertising force bread & circuses on commercial channels and the BBC appears intent o following them.  It's a disgrace I say!

However on the other hand sitting stuffing chocolates and other unhealthy foodstuffs down my throat as we gathered around the big screen was enjoyable.  Being with this my 'other family' is relaxing in other ways than forced marching.  I first came across them in 1971 when I entered a strange dark Baptist church in Notting Hill and spent a little time with them then as he ran his first attempt as church minister.  The place had almost closed a year before and he started with only a handful of people and left a thriving growing congregation behind when he moved to the coast.  There he took a thriving congregation and left them in a new building, a disused cinema costing a million pounds.  A great success at both places and all this leaving behind a sense of 'love' of the proper sort.  Of course they remain members of the church there but without the 24/7 stress, that belongs to others now. 

I would be nothing without them, they gave up so much time for me as they did and do for others, and I owe them much.  There are so many people I have met who have been good to me it is a wonder how so often I think only of the bad ones.  It is a truth that if ten things happen, nine of them being good ones, the one bad thing is what sticks in the mind.  We all have bad things happen to us and bad people abound, truth being we also do bad things to others but this we can justify to ourselves, these things happen and we just have to get on with it.  I am glad there are good people out there who read this and some who miss me when I am gone.  This surprised me somewhat as I thought you knew I was away but cheered me up a great deal to know you could not live without me.  What?....oh!  Anyway that made me happy.

Back to Normal

How nice to see the museum back to normal, short staffed, awkward questions, disappointed visitors, no-one making my tea, only one sale, heavy boxes to lift, my chocolate robbed, and having to look through 800 wedding photographs.
Not a child in sight, how quiet and tidy the place appears once it has been tidied up!  I did spend some time cleaning paint of one or two tables, the result of arts and crafts last week, that was required as the tables will be used for tea and biscuits by some group or other.  Otherwise I spent my time looking for photos and answers to a man's query.  Sadly there are no photographs of his street, little information and less to go on.  It just shows that we need to take pictures of our locale and place them where they are required, the local museum, for further investigation in years to come.  That is a hint by the way...
Tomorrow and Thursday I will spend time there again.  Where are all the volunteers these days?  At least in the morning I will make use of the bike, a massage may be needed later if anyone is around. Well if that's your attitude....

Once upon a time such as these were kept in 'Doocots' for use as meat during the long winters.  Where I was raised the 'Big Hoose' at the back on whose land our estate was built in the early fifties possessed one not far from us.  As kids we regarded it as some sort of witches house or a place to find rats.  In fact it was just an empty shell slowly disintegrating.  It still stands but I reckon it has now been roped off by H&S for safety.  I think these boys taking the sun early the other morning would not be as healthy as birds feeding on the one time fields of northern Edinburgh.  

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Sunday...

Sunday draws to a close and I am glad.
I could not get out this morning as typical July weather let it pour with rain and offering me nothing but a soaking.  Yesterday I left my overheating laptop to wander outside and began to burn after thirty minutes in the sunshine, today I would suffer rust!  Aussies don't know how lucky they are.
I took the Thrush picture yesterday after cycling around for half an hour to give my muscles a chance to ache, they took that chance very well.  I walked across the park in a vain attempt to loosen up and all that was loosened was my brain cells.  Later after rewriting (again) my latest volume I went out to get the sun.  The birds had gone by that time, hiding under the leaves in the trees I suspect.
I did get out this evening again on the bike.  Trundling, late to avoid people laughing, up the road to see how unfit I was.  The effort yesterday and tonight has done wonders, for the undertaker who smiled knowingly at me as I passed at least.

A quick glance at the media shows the Greeks have given a rude gesture to the European money men, that shortly George Osborne will give a lot of help to his rich friends in his next budget, that the benefit scroungers that are the royals have unbiblically christened yet another child, and that meaningless activities such as wimmens football and tennis are given far too much room.  Nothing of importance is found there these days.
I do note however that lots of good pictures of steam trains have been posted on facebook, that the Forth Bridge has been made a Unesco world heritage site, the sixth in Scotland, and that the football season has not yet started.

When I have finished the rewriting I might find something worth writing about, right?  

  

Work, Work, Work....

This has been my view for the last 48 hours.  I have been doing a bit for the museum which must be in tomorrow, and it is not nearly finished.  My eyes are looking at one another, my mind does not know where it is and I did not catch up on other things till long past the time they had gone.  I am not used to this work lark these days.  
Writing things, when they have to be accurate and right, is not easy as it means going back over it time and again, fixing the mistakes, wondering where bits have gone to and asking why a paragraph is twice repeated in different places!  This is just the revised draft, and two thirds have still to see a preliminary scribble.  
Here I had no interruptions, except when going back and forward to remove that red line that claims I canny spell.  That takes a lot of time I can tell you.  I would like the machine to auto correct misspelt words (Yankees don't like the word 'spelt' either) but this means I would have to go over every word and take out the things the machine puts in wrongly.  
So tomorrow she will scratch my eyes out and grumble "This is not what I wanted," before reaching for the whip.  Not much change from normal for her then...

He thought it funny to sit there and laugh while I attempted to print some pages off.  Not only did it fail as the black ink had run off.  This required the removal of a thousand items to open the printer so as to insert the new one, which luckily was in the drawer.  This complicated operation, once every thing had been returned almost to its place, went wrong as all the pages printed off instead of just the seven I wanted.  I may need a new cartridge soon!  I think that bird may be a Kookaburra and not a Starling judging by the way he laughed at me.

I shot him!

Like a Bird

Like a bird I flew through this day, until that is I fell asleep when I got home.  The wind howled as I made my way to the museum and it increased in strength as the day reached noon.  Thankfully the rain stayed up north where it belongs.  
Our first visitor got talking about the birds he feeds in his garden, he has many feeding places for them and one or two nests where he has created space for them.  He noted how few small birds were seen today.  Tonight I notice only Starlings and Sparrows have so far been at the feeder.  This is worrying as I was told the wind last night was terrible.  I, it must be said, slept through this terrible wind.  However it may be the wee birds have been flung from their nests and lost to us.  Possibly they have been flung far away and might return, the first thought however is that they may be lost.  Few Blackbirds sing tonight, that is a worry.   Ah, out in the trees over there a bird sings happily, some sort of Finch perhaps, maybe all is not lost.

The day was much better than yesterday, my rant file was not working, I smiled at people and spoke nicely to them and all was well, even though few staff were in.  However my colleague and I took control of the situation and we worked as a team - he did everything!  We now stock all sorts of things suitable for the few tourists and passersby that arrive including these jams and chutneys.  They have sold well, I noticed one had gone today!  The weather kept many away but a few toddled in and we had a chat about all sorts of things yet not one bought even a postcard!  Meanies!

Now I am not one to criticise learner drivers but really only a woman could miss a tank coming down the road as she comes out of a side road!  Tsk!  The 'Daily Telegraph' records the name of the road as 'Tank Ring Road!'  Did I mention she was female...?

Glancing through the papers just now I wonder about the number of attention seekers on show.  The ones keen to tell us they are gay or transgender, the singers/actors who just happen to have photographers with them when they divorce/marry/fall over/wear little, or as happens so often in the local press those who have to show us their accident/sickness/hardship.  Why I ask do people run to the media in these situations?
I can understand when you have been badly treated by some business and wish to embarrass them, I can understand the desperation of 'celebrities' to further their failing careers but why must we see your failing love life in the papers?  Why must we see your sex problems day after day?  Even worse why run to the local paper to tell us you have a disease, hundreds have such problems why are you in the paper?
Maybe it is that I would not wish anyone to know if I had been run over/took sick or become pregnant, especially the last one.   I would not see any reason for publicity, indeed I prefer to keep out of the way from that sort of thing.  I was very reluctant to be photographed for the museum when something was being put in the press, that is what the women are for I say, not me.  So I find it strange that Mrs Jones has caught a disease and we all get to know about it.  Those who need to will already know, those who don't need to don't care!  I know sick people here I have no requirement to be told of others.  I have no need for peoples private lives, nor their sex changes, nor their self seeking adverts.  If you have a broken life get it fixed and sort yourself out, don't fill the media with it!  Do what the rest of us do in these situations, keep it to ourselves!  I don't want to know.

I scribble this as it is clear that is the sort of thing people increasingly wish to know.  This is 'bread & circuses' for the masses.  Living their lives through the mess that others are in.  These folks need aid, and such aid will not be fund by rushing to the nearest newspaper office I can tell you!
  

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Friday Reading

Little happened today.  This was because I woke up asleep.  Until I had my siesta later in the day the mind did not work.  Then I had to saunter to the museum to pick up the reading material for the WW2 exhibition.  This will be all about the town during the war so I now have to read through all the missives from those who have recorded their memories for us.  I have six of them here to read through and this with several football matches to watch this weekend! Time is so short! 

One of our men has appeared in the 'Daily Mail' of all things.   

During the war he was evacuated to a village close by.  There he was left and lost touch with his mother. He blamed this on her having eleven kids and no money.  Edmonton in north London at the time was not a wealthy area and feeding the kids was a problem.  The 'Daily Mail' story gives the tale of how he got in touch with some distant relatives recently, the first contact since the war, and this explained much about how he was left in Essex.  

He himself handled things well and successfully lived out his life, writing a book on his adventures, and is very happily married to a lovely wife.  Dumped he may have been but he has done well, a cheery good man to meet.  

My attempts to catch a picture of the birds on the feeder has been hard work. For one thing the Starlings still annoy me, one just flew in the window instead of going the other way, bounced off the front window and squawked his way back out off the kitchen.  This has happened in the past with young birds, not adults. It must have been a she.  At least I know know a Robin has also joined the feeder queue but refuses to let me take a picture.  Standing hiding behind the fridge holding a camera for hours is not much fun I can tell you!    

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Watching the Chimneys

Plant life will arise anywhere!  I noticed this settling itself on the neighbours chimney today.  A small seed somehow plants itself in a crevice and happily grows away knowing the owner not only cannot see it he will not dare climb up there to fix it.  
Any building, town or city left to itself soon becomes overgrown with what we often refer to as 'weeds.' Yet they are plants of some sort to another even if we cannot find much use for them.  The birds and bees and other beasties certainly make use of such as these and without them I suspect we would wither also. The variety of plant life in this world is astonishing when you stop for a moment to think about it. Those little blue flowers that I can never take a decent picture off, the crops that feed us, the trees that last hundreds of years and climb hundreds of feet into the sky are all a wonder, just grass in a variety of colours, sizes and shapes.  A walk through a well stocked 'country garden,' the type not favoured b y the BBC these days, gives a splash of colour and fragrance we could never copy.  
Just saying like....

The variety of bird life around us is also a wonder!  For a start it is a wonder that every time you press the button the brute turns his head the other way! They do this for spite I tell thee!  At least this one is calling his mate from a distance and not outside my door.  I am having trouble with Starlings however. My little bird feeder is meant for wee birds like Tits and Goldfinch but recently Starlings have discovered how to land on it for the wee white Suet Pellets that I give them.  This annoys me as the big birds hinder the wee ones and It's them I want.  Starlings are excellent birds but come in flocks rather than in pairs and chase away other birds.  I even saw a Wood Pigeon eyeing up the feeder considering how to get a handful from it.  

Up above we have been enjoying blue skies and thick clouds.  At least those who ventured outside. I remained indoors, working hard - for an hour - and wasting away otherwise.  At least I did some work on the WW2 exhibition, feeble I know but it was a start, and I am amazed at how much the lass has managed when I was shirking work.  The next thing is to search for downed aircraft, and there were a few, and bomb holes maybe.  
Oh suddenly my brain hurts.  I think I had better go and watch Forfar Athletic playing Alloa Athletic and let my mind cool down a bit.  Life can be so trying sometimes...  

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Thalatta! Thalatta!

"Thalatta! Thalatta!" "The sea! The sea!"
The cry of Xenophon and the ten thousand when the saw the Black Sea for the first time. To the sea faring Greeks this meant they would make it home from their expedition against Persia where they had been dragged into the wrong war and on the wrong side. It was also the cry that rent the air when I stood next to the great deep and breathed in the brine and rejoiced in the sun glimmering on the endless waves. Getting there however was not as straightforward as I hoped. 

To begin with all went well, the train was on time, the carriage was quiet, the sun shone on the green and pleasant land as we flashed along and even better nobody made use of mobile phones.

The change at Stratford would have been smooth if I could understand how to work the ticket machine, when things are simplified they are always harder to comprehend and I found that technology was not on my side this week.  Eventually however I sat in a tube train full of happy Londoners, cheerful, kind and ...oops, sorry I was deluded for a moment.  However I reached the station that French presidents try not to arrive at and boarded the train where a youthful London lass equipped with all the social graces of a nineteen year old Londoner sat next to me working on her texting.  Joy abounded!  

We moved, the five coach and therefore overcrowded train slowly made its way out of the platform.  The sun shone in our window, no-one spoke in the quiet carriage, an occasional bleep from a mobile or tablet was heard and we settled down for a happy journey.  The train slowly made it's way to Clapham Junction station where it ground to a halt five minutes after departure.  Enter the guards voice from the depth of the Tannoy, "A person has been hit by a train at Surbiton so there will be a hold up as both lines are blocked.  (This occurred at 11:34, one minute before we left.)  This usually takes about an hour or so."  Apologies were made, and resignation ran through the train.  Being the quiet coach we are not allowed to riot.

Having sat at Clapham for almost an hour we moved suddenly and without warning.  No-one believed all was well.  It wasn't.  We parked ourselves at Wimbledon station because it appeared we stood in the way of some 19 trains that could depart and avoid Surbiton, we could not.  The crowded masses on the platforms at Waterloo waiting for their trains did not bother us one bit but must have been a nightmare for the staff.  Here we sat watching the station staff run around like headless chickens, a very interesting experience as I, like you, have been involved in similar situations when nobody has a clue as to what is happening, information does not arrive and customers have steaming heads.  So it was fun to watch others suffer, in love obviously.

Was this an accident that a 75 'hit a train?'  That happened last week on the Tube.  Or was it suicide?  Now it peeves me that people kill themselves by throwing themselves in front of trains not for them so much as for the trouble their action causes others.  The train driver may well be traumatised by this.  He may get a day or two off work but will have to pass this way again and some folks find such things hard to dismiss from their minds.  He may suffer guilt for doing his job and being responsible for another's death even if he is not in truth responsible.  Then there are those who have the job of collecting the pieces from the track who may not be too happy about it either, let alone the thousands who are delayed by this action.  Indeed this is a selfish approach to suicide.  

The late arrival led to confusion at the other end but soon I reached the happy home where we sat scoffing while the birds hammered away at the fat balls in the garden.  What can be better than a small enclosed garden?  Well one by the sea I suppose.  Everybody ought to have one, humans need it!  However it is very difficult to get a decent shot through a window, especially when the brutes will not  stay in the sunny bit while flitting from one seed type to another!  This shot shows a really magnificent example of a fat ball!  I have also numerous pictures of blurred Blackbirds and the rear end of Blue Tits if that's your thing. 

How lovely to be able to sit in another's house and feel at home?  l don't often get that as I am usually kicked out but I did relax here and began to enjoy it greatly.  My second family who I owe much to and I realised I have known for a mere 44 years.  I should add that eating properly for a change helped a good deal, the food in this house is cooked by a  lovely woman, as indeed it should be!  Nothing in this home got burnt, not even when three of us men cooked Pizza all by ourselves!  

We also watched, in spite of murmurings from the corner, Bournemouth football club getting themselves promoted by beating Bolton 3-0.  Jolly good for this little club even though a cynical female woman failed to appreciate the magnitude of the occasion.  Such women still get to vote mind!  Think about that next Thursday!

  

Thalatta at last!  A trip over the chain ferry at Sandbanks to sit and stare at the sea, what more could you ask?  Well sunshine for a start and an end to the chill in the wind!  Running since 1926 and secured from the tide by two tough chains the ferry runs back and forth across the short distance  saving motorists a 25 mile trip round Poole Harbour. To one side stands the huge harbour area where a mass of sailing vessels and some very big Channel ferries base themselves, to the other side lies the Solent and out into what the English call the 'English Channel.'  Humble eh?  This is one of the delights of this area.  The views are fantastic and I find this sort of thing refreshes the mind.  Air, sea, breezes, sand and a few boats of various designs all combine to relax the heart.  That is why folks sit in the car at the parking bay and stare out to sea.  That is why others, braver than some, walk no matter the weather along the shore.  There is something about the sea that humanity requires daily, no wonder I miss it.  Of course some people do not like water, they will sit in the car muttering while the brave scout for dangerous fish, illegal immigrants or flotsam & jetsam.   None were found here as the water was clean as indeed are the beaches.  The area is quite upmarket, a house here would set you back from £2 - 10 million, but they are well done up.  I do not have one - yet!

At Studland two brave souls wandered down the slope to the tea stall situated, as such things always are, at the far end.  In summertime when the heat is on and the beach huts crowded with revelers, while kids drown one another in the sea or bury dad in the sand this place must be mobbed.  It is not large but when crowded it would be a place to avoid!  Today however the chill reduced the numbers and we watched while this crow (or is it rook?) waited while the lass at the table fed him chunks of her lunch.  Usually timid he was keen enough to jump on to and off the table quickly while grabbing his portion.  Her wee dog considered grabbing him but she would not allow that.

  

I could have taken a thousand pictures here, often of the same subject but in different ways however some people muttered about 'having a life' and we moved on.  All told I did take 190 fotos although not all were a success and you lucky people will be spared having all of them shoved down the throat.  A hundred would be enough.  What's that you said...?  Oh!  Anyway, that's enough for now.  I have been forced to walk hundreds of miles, OK, well two at least and some of that up slopes, and my knees will not stop moaning, and I canny bide folks who moan.  So I am off to bed to rest up!          

Now I'm Not One to Complain...

Daily Mail

A glance at the media reveals much about the election, the 'Daily Mail' has put meaningless things such as a tennis players wedding and a boat race for 'toffs' above the election because the Conservative Party is struggling.

Andy whatsisname clearly is an outstanding tennis player, even though tennis ranks as a 'sport' so boring that someone invented Basketball to make tennis look interesting, they failed by the way. Here he is in the middle of a media scrum with crowds of women peering at the dress as if it was important. The wee town of Dunblane would be an ideal place to avoid today if there was anything resembling a brain inside your head, if not join the throng and gape at nothing.  

As if that was not bad enough I was lucky enough to be sitting in a cemetery where more excitement could be found than on the banks of the River Thames where a boat race between university teams took place.  Normally this incident passes of without notice even though it fills precious TV airtime yet today it was called 'historic' by stupid people.  You see today they let the girls race on the same day and women everywhere proved their ineligibility for voting by making a fuss about this.  

Now normally when the Olympics occurs I manage to miss most of it, especially when English toffs treat Scotland with the usual disrespect, but rowing is one thing I like to watch.  It is a gentle sport, for the viewer, as teams of big hulks tear their limbs apart rowing for miles to win a medal.  I like watching this even if it is merely girlies pulling the oars.  However having listened to one of these harridans whining this morning about the horrid treatment they suffer, not being allowed to use the men's changing rooms, having to pay up to £2000 to row etc, I felt little sympathy for these rich little darlings.  They can afford the cash, daddy pays anyway, if they wish a changing hut why not build one or buy a suitable building? They will not do this as they want it for free, from the men!

I want equality!  I want every road gang to be half female and half male, I want the same for scaffolders, miners and 'white van men,' I want the number of murdered men to be the same as that of murdered women instead of 90% being male.  I wish men got the same 'consideration' in court females are allowed 'because of circumstances.'  I wish for all male selection quotas for election candidates, I wish men could win compensation for 'sexism' the way women do, poor dears.  I wish equality but it will not happen.

A 'historic event?' You rowed a boat in a race no-one cares about bar yourselves and the 'elite.'  You did nothing while men throughout the nation did a vast number of important things, but they will never be made known.

   Telegraph

Golf, the 'Masters' is being played but only shown on 'Sky.'  This means I have missed it.  Sadly I never realised I was missing it until tonight.  I can suffer on without it and I suspect the world will remain the same.  

After rising early and finding the weather being somewhat dreich putting off my plans I was forced by circumstances to return to bed this morning.  Of course this was much against my will but I struggled through, snoring appropriately, and made the best of it.  The plans for doing something having failed I decided to cycle downhill to the other cemetery and redo the photos from their.  This I did manfully fighting the wind that decided to blow from the north with a needless intensity.  The job done, the men still lying where they had been, I sat and watched the trees with my better camera awaiting the opportunity to picture the wildlife.  None appeared!  A squirrel in the distance alongside a Magpie were the sum of it all.  Birds chirped hidden from deep inside the trees but I could not see them.  

I gave up, returned the doings to their place, looked for the bike and lo , high overhead two Kestrel type birds appeared searching for lunch.  By the time I was ready for them they were miles away!  I suppose they were a mating pair as it is unusual to see two such birds together.  Why did they wait until I was homeward bound?  

However I returned in time for the Scottish football which does not really concern us until tomorrow when we play Hibernian.  I listened to the games online while my bones creaked and the muscles tightened slowly.  I stretched, I stretched again, I fell on the floor, I groaned, I stretched, I made no difference. All this cycling is harder than it was last year, I really feel it this time.  I might need to get one of those oarswomen to give me a massage, it makes a better use of them I say.

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