Books...

Is it possible to have too many books?
You see, I accidentally ordered a book from Amazon while browsing books tonight.  I had not meant to browse but found a book token from Xmas that was just lying there and considered how to make use of it.  So I browsed.
Of course had I actually entered the book into the account it would have been better but I just went on browsing and found a book and purchased it without doing that very thing.  So I paid for it myself anyway.  It took me many years to realise I was not an intellectual giant.  It did not take long for others to discover this.
I looked at the small bookshelf next to my bed, the 45 books gathering dust, and wondered if maybe you can collect too many books?  I do not mean 'collect' in the sense of gathering old books and worshipping but not reading such items, I mean just discovering you have quite a lot.  
Some go back many years, quite a few had to do with the failed Open University History study (at least I can proudly claim to be a  B.A. (failed)) which I keep in a vain effort to imply I had a brain.  That proved incorrect, but fun anyway.  Others cover the many years reading about Jesus, some are books I could not let go, 'Mere Christianity' by C.S. Lewis was very helpful in the 70's and Jim Packers 'Knowing God' is a must I say for all Christians, a book full of Christian knowledge and common sense.  Others were glanced at and never finished.  
The Great War has resulted in many a book landing on my shelves.  Not counting all those I read in the library years ago.  Adolf Hitler, a man you may have heard about caused me to buy many books in an attempt to understand where he came from and how he got 60 million educated Germans to follow him, it was of course the supernatural evil power that took a bore from a hostel and made him Fuhrer. His behaviour makes clear how easy it can be to change a nation, if you find the right slogans.  

However as I look at the shelves I wonder whether it is right to have so many?  Is there not a way to make use of them, and ensure they return?  I almost gave one away recently but found it would not leave my tight grasp.  Cold that be a danger sign?  
Obviously some have not been read, that is, quite a few are more reference than reading books.  More detailed than the internet could be, though it takes longer to search through them.  Others have been read in bits, the irrelevant pages omitted.  Most have been read from cover to cover, but can I remember what was therein?  It is amazing how many individual lines come to mind along with an inability to remember which book I read them in.  This is unfortunate.  
There is a queue of books waiting to be read, one or two can wait, others must be read soon, possibly two or three at a time.  The thing is some books fit the mood, you cannot put it down, other plod along but must be read, slowly.  Usually I read a bit from one, consider I need a change and move to another, that way happily progressing along.  Of course one lying there has small font and 780 pages, another large font and considerably less pages, it does not take much guessing which is the first to be finished.

  
So, should I feel guilty about accidentally buying another book?  If my cough does not leave I may be forced to 'self isolate' and read all my books, returning to the start.  There is no football to distract me, TV is vile so books would be great.  
Books are so useful.  You learn about the world from them, a wide variety of subjects can be found therein.  I remember standing in a bookshop cogitating on the vast array of literature around me, most in my view worthless but never mind, and I wondered what the Sumerian scribes would think if they could see so many books crammed with writing, the writing they developed.  I suspect they would be happy about this, and promptly by the worst type of slop to read.  Consider how powerful words can be.  The Reformation was powered by 'tracts' from all sides.  A printer was, like a scribe, a powerful and useful man to have on your side.  Quite what Sumerian scribes down in Uruk would think if a copy of the 'Sun' cam into their possession however I am not sure.  They might consider that beneath them.
Books, magazines, Blogs, Facebook, Twitter, and so on all push out words, all shout loudly, some intelligently, all demand our attention.  Books offer a more considered system of debate than facebook or Twitter, at least that is what I have found, and the pictures are better.  
Discuss...

     

Dmitri and the 'Leningrad' Symphony Book.

Amazon

Most are aware of the Nazi's long and ultimately failed siege of Leningrad during the Second World War.  Few go into the details as the descent into deprivation caused by hunger, fear and human nature is not always good reading.  There is much in this book that would put you off your lunch.
The author, an American who thinks 'Football' is called 'Soccer,' has made use of several books concerning his subject, almost all of them untrustworthy.  Being brought up under a Stalinist regime means nothing is clear, nothing is truthful and desperation for survival brings lies and guilt which breed more lies.  Therefore we have a biography with limited primary sources, and those debatable.
However it is clear he was born into a middle class home, grew up during the First World War, saw his father participate in the revolution, endured life as a competent composer while Stalin took power and invoked the 'Terror.'  Then, after experiencing 'Terror' himself the Germans invaded and soon Leningrad his home was under siege.
I found the writing easy in this book.  The descriptions of the 'Terror' of the 30's is clear, we all know about that, and then the details concerning the surrounding of the city and the description of the struggle for survival while appalling at times straight forward and ghastly.  The dead mount up, starving people turn to robbery or cannibalism, yet others join together to eke out the little they have, not counting the Communist leaders of course who did very well.  The struggle shows how low the human nature can go, it also reveals the height some reach in aiding one another.
Dmitri Shostakovich continues to write his music through all these troubles.  Rising to fame in the 1920's with appropriate songs for the revolutionary times, amended to fit the Stalinist realism of the 30's, it saved him visiting the Gulag.
One aspect of the story is his desire to help others in any way he can, however at many times he has to say and do things with which he disagrees, he faces opposition from Stalin himself at one point and gets very near his end but survives.  On one occasion he is brought into the centre jail and asked to inform on people he met at a party.  He cannot as they have not sought to rebel.  He is told to return next day ready to admit their fault.  He arrives and is kept waiting.  Eventually he enquires of an NKVD officer as to what is to happen.  It transpires nothing will happen, the officer who threatened him the day before has been arrested and shot.  All his meetings have been cancelled!  Dmitri goes back home and hears no more about it.  Such was the Soviet system in the late 30's.
With his city suffering he begins a symphony designed to lift the nation.  Eventually news of this leaks out and he and his wife and children and removed far from Leningrad.  Here he finishes the symphony and sends it back to be performed in the city itself.
The orchestra has of course been dying off.  Most remaining, about 15 of them, were starving, those brought from outside, including members of the army bands, were also malnourished, and a terrible scene reveals the desperation to rehearse the music.  Eventually, once the music has been exported across the world and played in London and New York to a world audience awaiting encouragement from Russia, the war had yet not turned in the allies favour, the Leningrad Symphony was played in Leningrad.  At the time the book claims this alone inspired the Soviet people in their war against the fascist aggressor.  Because the Germans were.  'National Socialist' the Soviets hid this by calling them 'Fascist.'
After the symphony was played things began to turn.  In late 1942, before the playing of the work, British Empire forces had won at El Alamein and began clearing the enemy from North Africa.  Soon after the inspiration of the work the Soviet forces began to end the siege and within a year the city was damaged, haunted, full of guilt and fear, but free from German oppression.  The book likes to claim much credit to the music for this result.
The result of the war is well known, it was in all the papers, yet even after the war Stalin sought a 'terror' once again in which Dmitri and his music became criticised.  He survived, just, and eventually died in his bed in 1975.  It took me a week or so to read this book, what with coughing and straining my muscles.  It was an easy read in spite of the Americanisms within and well worth a go for those interested in composers like Shostakovich.  The book shows how much of his work arose in dire trouble and reflects the society in which he lived.
This book was a Xmas gift from my beautiful and intelligent piano playing niece.  She also sent me the music CD to go along with this book.  Clever girl!

 

Sadly not the St Petersburg Orchestra  have, but this will do.

Famous: 1914 - 1918

This has been an interesting second hand book.
On Remembrance Sunday I read my portion of the service which included items from individuals life experiences during the war.  Richard van Emden was the man who had gathered, or actually his wife,gathered the material which we used.  So when I saw this book I had t have it as I was always interested in the war experiences of these famous men and these were for the most part real war lives.
Harold MacMillan, later to be Prime Minister spent considerable time lying wounded in the field, between two lines and with conflict chasing past him.  More than once he was wounded and for the rest of his life had trouble walking and little use of his right arm.  He still made it politically and we could do well to have him back today, he would be appalled at his party under Boris.
Ralph Vaughan Williams joined the RAMC, possibly because of his age, as a private and served on the western front and in Salonika where he achieved a commission at the age of 45!  Always 'unkempt' he failed further promotion because of his lack of consideration for such niceties as tidiness but he remained a popular and efficient officer.  His music reflected his war, while climbing the slope with the ambulance wagons towards the line he noted the countryside and the colour of the sky from which he began to develop his 'Pastoral Symphony.'  It was a war scarred vista that brought out the music, not a sweet countryside view as many think.  The war was not something he ever forgot.
J.R.R. Tolkien like the rest never got over the war, though he wrote little about it he manifested the war in his writing, most clearly in 'Lord of the Rings' where many see reflections of the war exposed.
John Christie, more famous as the murderer from '10 Rillington Place' did indeed see time on the western front during 1918 but his service records are somewhat dubious.  His claim to have been gassed and wounded are not exactly well documented though extremely likely as is the fact of his many small crimes which followed him during his life.  Christie was a mixed up individual, his life complicated and while war service may have encouraged a maladjusted life style it probably made little difference but did offer him an excuse on occasion and allow him some leeway while in a courtroom.  He was hanged eventually, unmissed by anyone it appears, in 1953.
Not all 'our boys' are 'heroes.'
Tom Denning was one of five brothers who enlisted, one dying in action another failing through TB while in the Royal Navy.  Tom Denning, like all good barristers very good at maths, and he joined the Royal Engineers in 1918 as he thought his maths would be of benefit, indeed they were.  Careful maths study enabled him to dig a tunnel from two directions and find much pleasure in them meeting exactly as planned, not easy in wartime.  Denning's war was fought during the 'last hundred days' as the allies pushed the enemy out of France and Flanders.  This required the erection of bridges and pontoons over canals and flooded rivers, always under fire and as he passed the sight of dead and dying men all around, from both sides.  
After the war he resumed his legal profession becoming the second highest judge in the land and famous for his exclamations throughout his time.  His most famous work was the Report into the 'Profumo scandal' of the early 60's.  Denning died in 1999 not long after his one hundredth birthday. 
C.S.Lweis, A.A.Milne and many others are mentioned in the book.
A piece on their war time experience, some background info and in my view too little critical examination, even allowing for the few pages available.  Their failings are glossed over, which in such a book may be understandable but it does appear to avoid controversy somewhat.
I enjoyed the book however.  Each chapter was readable and shirt enough to stimulate more study and saved time reading about the less interesting people.  Clearly all found the war affected them for the rest of their lives, some more than others.  If you listen to their music, read their books and read about them somewhere you can better understand how these men viewed the world.  
Well worth a read.

Happy St Andrews Day

  

Smiths and Cake Slice.

By accident I happened to wander into W.H.Smiths today and exchange a small book token given me when I was thrown out of the museum.  I entered, reasonably smartly dressed, browsed, passed the manager checking perfectly stacked books near me, watching what I was doing as if I were a thief,  and found no books worth buying.  typically for this area the vast majority of books are junk novels.  However I found a shelf I had never noticed before containing these books, and more beside, a novel occurrence in here to find books I think I'd like.
Ignoring the Cement Freud lookalike manager who strutted around as if he was important and not the customer, I paid the new young lass at the desk, in spite of the machinery falling apart worrying her, and took my prizes home to join others awaiting on the shelf.
Am I becoming obsessed I wondered feeling the book jackets and petting them like you would a dog or cat?  I failed to come up with an answer as it was feeding time and soon I took a book into my hand and fell asleep...

  
First World problems!
Greggs the Bakers have upset fans of their 'Custard slice' by halving the size and retaining the £1 price tag.  Greggs claim this is part of the 'war on sugar' and the cake is 20 grams less in sugar and better for customers.
Fans are not happy!

"It's a national favourite that's been completely ruined."
"I am disgusted...."
"It is clearly to boost their profits."

I have never been in Greggs.  
I suspect it is about 20 years since I went into such a shop, maybe less and then for bread not cake.
All a little over the top in my view, but just wait until after Brexit and there is no sugar available!
Just wait till you see the slices then!

Books

It so happened that I came into possession of two more book vouchers yesterday.  Having ended my time at the museum, they indicated that as we have a 'Dinosaur' exhibition on at the my attendance might confuse children so I left, having left I was in receipt of these vouchers and a lovely card with words such as "I'm glad you have left," scribbled upon.
This sadly means I now have to slug my way into town to the proper bookshop and select more books for the 'To read' pile.  This as you will imagine upsets me.  So many books, so little time!

The problem is the charity shops around here.  Most sell books, mostly women's trash it must be said, but occasionally they possess something worthwhile.  The Sue Ryder shop in particular attracts a lot of good books, the hardbacks here were available at 2 for £1 and I am not one to resist such prices.  A proper charity shop, though it must be said it makes its money from the quality of the furniture it sells rather than books.  
I noticed in one of the papers a woman talking about the second hand books previous history.  She of course, being a woman, was merely using story books, a waste of time in my view, and conjecturing on the people who bought the novel first time.  This is interesting right enough, who originally bought the book that ends up in a charity shop?  Was it bought or a gift?  Did it delight or bring despair?  Surely if it was worth reading it was worth keeping?  Now I would throw out story books, though I would keep 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe' as I liked that when I read it ( I bought it for my niece in a charity shop 30 years ago and had to read all the others) but I would dump the rest.  However my books are interesting and worth something, they are always of use as reference in future times, unlike novels.  So who throws them out?  Was the missus clearing out again?  Did someone die?  Did the owner get bored with the subject?  I wonder if the reader got satisfaction from the book?  
What sort of house did the buyer live in?  The middle classes keep their books to show off their knowledge and impress people, other like Siegfried Sassoon had thousands of books up the stairs, on landings, on shelves, in libraries and knew everyone of them.  When asked he could indicate where each book was to be found.  Few are like that.  I wonder where his library ended up?  I know where my small collection will go, my niece has divided them up already and she gets the lions share, I am surprised...

Another Book!

A somewhat lazy day sitting around reading books, watching the screen and muttering to myself.  A normal day perhaps.  
I did finish another of these 'Penguin Monarch' books.  This one concerns a woman I knew absolutely nothing about.  My school history was rightly more concerned with proper Scots history and Mary I was never mentioned.  She did come to mind later occasionally as 'Bloody Mary,' a well known expression, often when I was working I remember, but rarely did she ever get a real mention.
For a start I did not know she married an Italian prince who became King of England!  As King of Spain I had heard of Philip but not that he married Mary, or was that a later Philip?  The book stops when Elizabeth appears.  

Mary 1554

Born February 1516 she had the misfortune to be daughter of Catherine of Aragon, the first wife of Henry VIII.  While it appears Henry liked this woman she had a stream of miscarriages which meant he failed to get himself an heir.  The world of that time had its own pressures and as time passed Henry suffered somewhat from too much jousting and removed the wife from his life.  This meant Mary, and later Elizabeth, both went into a kind of hibernation as far as monarchy was concerned.
Henry had his troubles, usually badly handled I would say, with the Pope and became head of his own 'reformed' church.  The increasing protestant religion found a home in England and Henry encouraged this, stripping the Catholics of all he could obtain, closing monasteries and parcelling out the land he did not retain.  This did not make him popular in Rome.

Mary I

Once the King died and the short lived attempt to put Lady Jane Gray on the throne failed, Mary had her head removed, Mary took their reigns and soon began reverting things back to the RC manner.  Now the author of this book is somewhat biased in his opinions.  He is a lover of Spain and Mary and throughout the book is intent on portraying her in a good light.  All very noble.
He makes a point that she was not 'Bloody Mary' and only did what she had to do according to the ways of the world at the time.
Four Bishops burnt at the stake and 283 others leading protestants who also died may disagree here.
Her short lived reign saw many others follow if they deviated from her spiritual path.  Over 800 well to do people fled the country at this time.  
Her beliefs were based on her Spanish grandmothers influences, clearly Mary was a clever lass, well educated, well read but family pressures possibly kept her from the new reformed faith, especially if she was looking to be crowned and then had to deal with large Catholic super states in Europe.
After she suffered a false pregnancy, possibly from desperation to have a child, she was 38 when she married Philip, her husband moved to France to participate in the ongoing war there.  He only returned once, not long before she died.  
Mary died from  a variety of internal problems, not helped by Flu which took her away during November 1558, she was 42.   She had by this time enabled Elizabeth to replace her as queen.
Whatever was in her mind this author was trying to make her reputation better.  I am not convinced he succeeded but he did offer a concise look into a world I had never known.  We know lots about Henry, too much in my view, the English are obsessed with him for some reason, and we know much about Elizabeth but Mary I know little off.  I am better educated now as these short books are indeed a treat. 

Clerics

Daily Mail

One thing I have learned is that the Church of England is not like any other church I have belonged to.  The Church of Scotland has some weirdo's in it today, some who ought not be allowed through the door it must be said, yet for all its troubled history the CoS has not produced eccentrics with the ease the CoE has done.  
This book lists some of them.
The author is a curate in the CoE and therefore comes across some eccentrics daily I would imagine, in my short time here in the Essex wilderness I have discovered the CoE encourages such people.
The book offers a collection of clerics from recent and distant past times, some appear to me to be quite good chaps in truth doing the job they were paid for, perhaps that is why they were considered strange?
However the first one mentioned 'Robert Hawker' can only be classed as 'strange.'  While engaged in his clerical duties at Bude in Cornwall he took to the sea.  He would sit on a rock just of the coast wearing a wig maid of seaweed and with an oilskin wrapped around his legs he would sing as mermaids do.  This curate action confused some of the locals though they gathered around to watch and listen until a local farmer, or perhaps the weather brought him ashore and quietened him down.  Having moved far from Bude to a lonely parish he became famous for there he invented the Harvest Festival in a vain effort to get his parishioners into church.  The majority of the congregation however remained his 10 cats who followed him in each Sunday.  One caught a mouse on a Sunday and was excommunicated for this.   In spite of dressing in a peculiar but coloufull fashion he considered it his duty to rescue bodies which were constantly washed up on shore from the treacherous waters around him.  He also tried to rebuild the vicarage in his own quaint style but his behaviour and his addiction to opium along with the bizarre poems this inspired stopped him from obtaining money to rebuild his church.  He died in 1875.
Michael Ramsey became Archbishop of Canterbury and was known to begin the day by bangng his head three times on his desk muttering "I hate the Church of England," I suspect all those who followed him have also followed this practice.  George Harvest suffered from memory loss, he forgot to arrive at his wedding as he had gone fishing, not only but also he made a second wedding arrangement and got caught up in conversation with a stranger and missed that one as well!    
There are many such in this book, including one who built a fence round the church to keep people out and I suspect some vicars who having read that will wish to do similar.  
An entertaining read which only the CoE could produce. 

No idea what this is but the bush in the park over the road gives off a delightful scent.  The wind is carrying it eastwards today but when the wind is low the fragrance fills the area.  We need more of these.
 

No football tonight.
After tomorrow there may not be much for a while.
What will I do...?
I might have to speak to people if I cannot avoid them.
Oh dear...

Maudlin Monday

Once again we note that that nice US president has been watching 'Fox News' again.  We can tell be cause he has discovered that Iran is a problem and he must declare war on that ancient land.  The war he is now working on, between MacDonald's and Coke, is one that continues the Syrian war the Saudi's and that nice Israeli president started and failed with.  They had intended to curtail Iran by attacking the proxy Syria but having failed, thanks to Russia's intervention, another nice man the Mr Putin, the Middle East rulers now wish a direct US attack on Persia.
The Persians will tell you they go back to Cyrus the Great which means they have been around since he died, at war, in 530 BC.  As such they consider all nations around bar China and India and newcomers and the variety of Arab states they treat with undisguised contempt.  This is not helped when Iran takes the Shia Muslim line and the majority of the rest take the Sunni line, something ignored when Britain and France and the rest divided up the middle east after the Great War.
Today the west's interference has removed almost all Christians from the area, most Jews and all those of lesser faiths either diminish or suffer according to passing fashion.  Such interference continues, with Trump following whatever he is told, a 'hawk' or two in the White House demanding action similar to that dealt to Iraq and again uncaring re the millions who will suffer and die, including their own men of course, they have never been considered by leading politicians.
World War 3 will begin on Twitter...

Getting away from that I have put aside all my other reading and become captive to this small book.  This is one of several found in Waterstones, the 'Penguin Monarchs' series, and so far I have rushed through this easy to read history of William the Conqueror.  Ideal for train journeys, flights, sitting in the loo, the short easy chapters inform, educate and bring to life well known monarchs, all from the past obviously, and appear worth the £4:99.
I have got one or two others to read also and I think this is a good way to get to know the past.  One thing I wonder concerns the rumours of how he married his wife Matilda.  Nothing is said re him pulling her off a horse or battering her or raping her to ensure a marriage.  Maybe these rumours were out of place or too much of a rumour to put into a short book?  Being short it cannot cover all ground right enough.
Enough good information is given however to review the character of the man.  Usually we hear a little half hearted basic information concerning some great man and once we investigate for ourselves we quickly discover things are not quite as we have been told.  William was indeed a religious man, not just for show either.  He placed reforming Archbishops into Canterbury and Rouen  and listened to their spiritual counsel.  This enabled him to rule humanely and judge justly.  We forget or know little about what went before but William improved life for many, even when treating this who opposed him severely.  One aspect unknown to me was the vast degree of slavery in England and Wales at the time, this William outlawed!  Once again a foreigner came to England and freed the English from themselves!  His piety was real but his wrath no less real, opponents felt this but I suspect the reason many disliked him in England was the tax he raised, mostly from those who had the money to spare.
I have finished this book, unputdownable and quickly read. 
I like this one.

Guardian

It is most unfortunate that the Electoral Commission, a somewhat tardy organisation today, has been forced by one time Prime Minister Gordon Brown to step in and investigate the flow of money onto the Brexit Party coffers.  It appears money is coming from outside the UK via PayPal which converts the cash into £s from whatever source and in Brexit eyes does no wrong.  Foreign cash as you know is not acceptable in funding political parties at an election.  It could be our man might be forced out, tsk the 'establishment' again!

Tiring Saturday

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

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

Watling Street Fail

 

Books about travelling across the country I like.  They offer an insight to places I have never been or if visited a differing viewpoint.  The authors opinions are never far away and when done properly we see something of the world around us tat we do not notice for ourselves.

This book fails in that endeavour.  

Under Dover's white cliffs listening to his daughters enthusiasm for history, something the writer fails to comprehend, he decides to seek some out by wandering along 'Watling Street' an ancient roadway that runs from Dover to Anglesey in north west Wales.

To be successful the author must describe the area, the people if any and the history, especially notable stories from the past.  While the author here does some of that most of the book is a boring reference to any play, story, film or literature that crosses his mind revealing John Higgs failure to get out into the world to see what it really is like.

Canterbury, London, Milton Keynes and so on are dealt with always with reference to a book or TV show based there.  The reality of the life around him is ignored while pages are wasted on repeating such storylines. 

Even worse is his open mind on any occult event which he finds fascinating leading him to waste many pages on people who are clearly possessed by demons, and I do not say this lightly.  One believes a dead prostitute, if that is what she is, comes to him and gives him poetry and words. Another writes science fiction and clearly is considered by the writer to be a man of real wisdom although to me he comes over as one of those bores who are always right and people ought to listen to him.  A third is also admired but to be honest much of what was written I got fed up with and moved on.

If John was not meeting weirdo's and finding TV plays in every corner, he was afraid to enter an aged Barrow in Wales as it brought to mind 'Raiders of the Lost Ark' and snakes falling on his head.  Any archaeologist hearing that may well be somewhat miffed.  In fact when inside the Barrow he stands beside a Piller that he decides is the centre and brings to mind '2001' the film, and ends up hugging the 'centre' in 'tree-hugging style.'
I am afraid to write what I thought by this time.
From waxing lyrical about 'England,' he called it 'Britain' but we know what he meant, he wanders around spouting his opinions almost all influenced by books, films and TV stories.  What was in front of him and the long history behind them appears to have failed to really hit home.
It is no surprise his 16 year old daughter spends a lot of time looking at her phone...

Lunch, Football Books and Doves.

As one of the near million or more who opened a can of beans today I began to cogitate on the worth of this fine food, a food that was is so important to our health that during the war it was declared an 'essential foodstuff.'  It has been essential in my house for many years.
Somehow beans grown in South America made it to Europe during the 1500's, possibly by being swiped from Spanish and French ships by English pirates, and bean stew became popular world wide, the world being Europe and the Americas and the rest did not matter much.  Haricot, also known as 'Navy' beans for some reason are covered in tomato sauce and make a complete dinner for many in the UK.  This tells us much about them!   
Heinz, who sell the most, and probably many 'own brand' types also, claim that around 50,000 tonnes of beans arrive annually for their Wigan factory from the Americas, a fact which might change come Brexit!  Their sauce is based on a US model which originally contained pieces of pork (pork & beans still on sale somewhere)  first produced in the UK by Heinz in 1928.  The beans had first been sold as an expensive foreign import in 1901 by Fortnum & Mason at 9d a tin.  Considering some earned around £1 a week then (with 240d to a £) you see how pricey it was.  Today Heinz and other charge considerably more but wise folks like me buy own brand beans, considerably cheaper and if you don't like the sauce ad a bit of imitation Lee & Perrin's sauce to spice it up a bit.   Even the English queen likes the beans and has given Heinz a Royal Warrant, she always has some on order, probably for Philip.
Pie and beans, meaning a Scotch mutton pie, was a staple of my diet in Edinburgh, in this wilderness these pies are unobtainable and the English mince pie is frankly disgusting!  Therefore my diet suffers.  Being cheap and flexible they cover a lot of mistakes leaving me feeling fed even though no restaurant would remain open if they offered what I ate.  I however suppose it is possible to live on a diet of beans?  If this is cheap I may give it a try.

Someone indicated a book might be missing from my collection.  This usually means they have nicked it so I had a quick check and all the appropriate books are in their rightful place.  It may be someone did not look close enough....

Someone was watching me with the tins of beans muttering "I'm game for dinner" and when I looked he had hopped it.  I wonder if he had obtained the wrong idea?  He ought to know we don't eat birds like him these days...usually...

Books, The Invisible Cross, and Others

Having finished my first Christmas book the other day I have been awaiting delivery of something to read.  This is not because I have no books lying around awaiting use but because most of them are the slower type of read, I wanted something that I could not put down and would be an easy read.  Too many of the others I can only take one chapter at a time, then my brain requires rest.
Three of these I have never heard off before,  the Ernst Junger one I have wished to read for some time,and I am happy to consider these will be easier to read and more interesting than anything available on the nearest TV set or grubby daily paper.  We will find out son enough.
The books all came via Amazon, for reasons of their own the Junger book was sent separately to the others and came via Royal Mail, dropping happily through the letter box along with a final demand for someone else.  The others however came by Amazons own delivery men, 'White Van Man' and normally a 'Black or Tanned Van Man' who had never been in North Essex before, had 500 drops, no map bar a 'Tom Tom' that was out of date and could not speak English.  Whether he had a licence or insurance I would not like to ask.  So today, Saturday, I am informed books are on the way, again it is natural to expect arrival about seven in the evening but happily he arrived as I looked out the window checking on strange noises outside.  This before noon and with an English driver at that!
Now I suppose I must go and sit in my bed for a few days reading all this stuff, I do not wish it to go to waste.

     Amazon

This is an excellent book, though I would not refer to it 'as eloquent as  any war poem'  but it does reveal one man's heart while engaged in fighting a war, a war about which he new little as it happens.  An Englishman with experience of fighting in India at the end of the Raj finds his 1st Battalion the Cameronians now engaged in fighting a very different and superior enemy.  This he does well, as situations change the battalion suffers losses and he takes over command while his superior becomes Brigade General, a position he also will soon be in line for.  Alas he does not follow the commands of the Divisional Generals behind the lines while fighting at Loos, along with his Brigadier he demands that if they wish him to proceed as planned they must come and look at the situation and give him the order in writing, as he has a right to demand.  They do not come.
This made him possibly a marked man and it was until 1918 he actually became a Brigadier, three years late!
We know all this from the letters he sent to his beloved wife.  These he attempted to write daily, not always possible, and reveal his care for his family, his desire to get out of the line as he was ageing and the burden of command as the years past and the war developed wore him down.  His wife's replies he destroys, to precious for others to see.
This is an excellent insight into the battalion commander under duress, the stress of war, care for his family whom he rarely sees, and the care for his men often dying because of blunders and mistakes.
One interesting observation was his lack of understanding of how the war was going.  His friendship and relationship to senior generals did not help him develop a picture of the overall situation, the newspapers offered nothing but propaganda, and he asked his wife for info he was not receiving.  He lived on after the war, another came and went and he continued his happy life until his death in the 1960's.  The war of course he never spoke about.
Overall a very good book, worth a read.

Several times I have come along the street round the corner I have heard a bird sing happily somewhere above me.  At lunch time as I passed by there he was again, a wonderful cheery song in a gray day.  This time I could see him even though the light was poor and I am glad to know it was this Robin chirping away while Sparrows buzzed about him in the tree.  If the weather deteriorates as some claim it will then  hope he survives.  A month of real winter is due and I hope it s not like the one being experienced in Europe.  I hope the bird survives as the song brightens each day.

'The Team For Me' by Mike Smith

Edinburgh Reporter

Much to my delight another book fell through the door today.  A book all football fan everywhere can relate to, one man's obsession love of the Heart of Midlothian, who can blame him for that?  You will all understand that once a football team becomes yours, and it is 'yours' then you can never leave it.  Wives and children, jobs and money, fame and fortune can come and go but these are fickle things, a football team remains for ever!

Of course as I have several already on the go it would not be possible to read this at the moment so I just dipped into the foreword by the great Jim Jefferies, a man who began his career as a 16 year old with the Hearts, eventually became a stout captain and later led them to the great 1998 Scottish Cup win, a result some of us had waited almost forty years to behold. What a great man to have write the foreword! 
Naturally with so many live games on different channels today I have not been able to read further, well I mean I glanced at the first chapter or two and found myself understanding what life was like when following a football team in the flesh.  The getting ready, the transport there, the avoiding supporters of jealous lower teams all rings true, but I have not read further.
The author?  One Mike Smith, a writer of note who has written several books of this type, most notably 'Hearts greatest Games' which concerns 50 of those triumphs, compare that with the  Hibernian's book 'One Win in 1973,' which did not sell well.  
Look at the time I must sleep, I better take a book through with me....

Friday Floundering

The problem with putting things off is that they eventually turn up.  So this morning I was trapped by an ironing board as I had run out of shirts.  This done to the accompaniment of 'Last of the Summer Wine' a programme that reminds me of several men of my acquaintance.  The delight of finishing this chore was enhanced by the arrival of two books that popped through the door.  I must remove that Amazon button.  I did however manage to place these so far from me that I was able to continue work and forget all about them.  Buying books is a habit that must end!   

  
Duty done I sauntered off towards the town and made my way to the charity shops, this one in particular is always offering excellent books, and I happened to accidentally walk in the door as it was open.  However the bad habit of mixing fiction with non-fiction that has appeared recently hinders searching as there is only so much of Victoria Hislop that I can take.  A browse elsewhere in the shop left my money in my pocket though I was irked by others there with their habit of walking into me as if I did not exist, I blame the parents.
One thing I did reflect on was the two men I saw in the distance, one I wished to avoid as I did not wish to speak to him as I have not the four hours to waste, thus I moved the other way, the second man did likewise to avoid me!  How strange to feel ever so slightly miffed at being ignored while ignoring another leaving him possibly miffed, if he actually noticed me.  What a strange conflict there.  Both are decent men, both are worth knowing and both would be acceptable at another time, this was not it.  Yet I feel guilty re one and miffed re another.  Stupid boy!

Here is an interesting thought.  They knocked down the old clinic that once stood here and have almost finished building several tightly packed houses costing up to £340,000.  A glance though the local house ads show that the white ones facing us are still available while the red brick to the right appear to have been purchased.  
I wonder if the reason the most expensive homes on the block have not gone might be the fact they back onto the skatepark?  Now skateparks tend to be where young folks gather, playing on bikes and skateboards during the day and gathering around to share drugs, and sometimes music, at night.  Could it be that this might be said to be a problem when attempting to sell houses?  
There has been some trouble here over the years, gang fights at first, drugs, yobs on motor scooters and now almost silence in the evenings for some reason.  This years adolescents have not gathered to scream and shout late at night like previous groups have done, not as yet anyway but they will.  Would you wish a house there?

The promised Indian summer is not arriving, tomorrow means rain from early on.  No doubt cold, wet weather will soon be a constant and it is a week on Monday before my boiler gets fixed!  Bah!

Breath the Air Deeply

Brian Forbes

There has been a bit of a stink going around.  Some people are finding it a bit much, others just finding breathing a bit much!  It is that time of year again when Farmer Jones gets out the much spreader and covers the fields in the organic manure that is probably a lot cheaper than the chemical ones he buys.  I of course have no idea from where he obtains this stuff and I have no intention of enquiring re the source.  
A couple of days ago it began to work it's way into our consciousness late in the afternoon.  Such an aroma is not hindered by shut windows or scarves wrapped tightly around the face, I can tell you.  This delight seeps into the air and clings to you individual thus allowing the individual to enhance their lungs by breathing deeply and spending several days in hospital retching.  This happens every year yet this is the first time I have noticed people grumbling about this.  When I first arrived I remember being somewhat irked by the air but understood this is what happens when surrounded by fields producing bread.  For a day or two we benefit from this odour but it soon disappears and life continues as always.  Why people complain who have lived here for years I know not, it is part of life in the country.  The town is about three miles wide and two the other way and with lots of farmers actually growing things we are bound to notice their work sometimes.  They do not spend all day driving tractors slowly along the A120 for spite as some claim, they work on occasion and clearly one of them, to the north it seems, has been busy spreading it around.  I look forward to the crop he produces whatever it is.

How stupid can this stupid person be?  I am reading several books at once, two of which have been lying for some time and I picked them up once again while cleaning, and then is a charity shop came across this.  Naturally I took it home and placed it on the pile to be ignored for a while but then accidentally picked it up and began reading.  So that's five books one the go at one time.  Must go I have to read something before the football arrives...   

Rain, Books, Read....

OK! OK!  We wanted rain but you can stop now!
Passing showers they said, they did not say how slowly they would pass.  Still this will soak into the ground and ease the grass around us.  It also keeps kids at home out of the shops and that is always a good thing.

It has been one of those weeks when it was difficult to read.  The mind found Calvin's 'Genesis' a bit hard, similar readings made the brain work to much and nothing else was easy reading to my mind.  This comes from the heat of recent days leading to unsettled sleep patterns, doing too much (Ha!), and the knees being very troublesome this week making things difficult.  All in I found little to hold onto either on TV or in books.  
This is annoying as little can be done when in such moods.  I have done things of course, some cleaning has to be done whatever, yet the desire to move has been lacking.  Now the weather has become normal I hope this will die away.
Funny how I can stand in front of a bookcase and not find a book.  None fit the mood, are easy enough to read or interest me at the time.  Yet all have played a part, some were marvellous and will not be found again in a charity shop, others were dipped into as required and may be read properly one day.  Saying that it does appear a shame that so many words just lie about, this leaves me wishing I knew someone who could make use of them, yet retain them in my bookcase!  Consider how many words lie on the shelves, not all good ones of course, some pretty rotten, but the vast output from someone's mind that has played a part in my, and others, lives.  Our thoughts put in print to change the world.  Hmm, I wonder how changed it has been since I started scribbling...?