Cruel Monday

Life is cruel!  All morning I spent looking for the postman deivering my books.  

All morning!  It was only when I looked once again at the Royal Mail email I realised it said deliver 'Wednesday!  I could have been out, round Sainsburys and have something worth eating for tea, but no, I did not read the email properly!  This is happening more regularly to me now.

Then this afternoon I was again stuck indoors awaiting another book from Amazon.  I ordered two, one came via one courier, the other will arrive, probably via a different one, sometime soon. 

Having used up the last shirt in the cupboard I have also spent all day, and I mean all day, ironing the rest of the shirts piling up on the back of the couch.  Considering how old some of these are, a little tighter than they once were, a sensible rich person would dump them on a charity shop and buy new ones.  However, I am poor, as my report cards always used to say, and the cheaper option is ironing them and hoping new ones arrive (fat chance) at Christmas.

Now, book arrived and placed in appropriate Xmas pile while awaiting others, shirts, bar the ones I just could not be bothered doing, hanging in the cupboard shocked and neatish, I await the rest of the day. Nothing else has been done.  

Then tonight I must drag myself the hundred yards down the road to the Club for the Spam meeting.  I have to wait and not rush out as I expect one of my women to call regarding her visit to the doctors last Friday.  This could take an hour, wear out my ear and make me wish she could use emails!  Some forty or so people praying for several years have led to the dialysis she ought to have undertaken years ago not being required.  The doctors smile and nod when she explains why. Now, at 80 years of age, she is still continuing to live but they do not understand how she does so well in the circumstances.  Other problems remain, and while she has suffered for 30 years with things the Good Lord will not let her undergo this.  Quite something.

After that call I will need to be at the Club, just for the quietness.  It will not be empty but the people there will be quieter than her voice on a phone.

 

Friends and Shopping

I was being interrupted by one of my women this morning via facebook informing me of her 'Bestie' girl friend being with her.  The 'Bestie' I thought i very much a female thing.  They have known one another since school, at her wedding her 'Bestie' was the bridesmaid, now 34 years later they still get together.  Today they were going shopping, something women were made for, and tomorrow they are being dined by another aged friend to celebrate their 60th birthdays, well one is 60 the other may be older.
This is a female thing the 'Bestie.'  Men make friends but do they keep a 'Bestie?'    
One of these not so young women thought that her husband made friends depending on his work hobby, church, association, and kept them as mates while they worked together.  They did not keep much in touch after they moved on.  I think there is something in this.
I had many friends when following the football, maybe 'friends' is too strong a word, and made several friends in various jobs (that's job as opposed to career which everyone has today.)  None kept in touch although occasionally we meet and chat, their families, work or life as it is moves us apart though we remain acceptable to one another when we do meet.  No Christmas cards, no phone calls, little contact otherwise appears to be the norm.  Having said that I am in touch with two or three who have been friends for around 40 years or more, but it is not quite the same.  Our close friends rarely number more than two or three while we have between a dozen or twenty friends we may be happy to meet, the rest are acquaintances.
Friends are useful, there is the 'Prisoners,' or 'Soldiers Friend,' on hand to aid sailors in court or soldiers attempting to get at their pensions, a Friend at the Court, at least in England (but at what cost?) and we always remember the proverb 'A Friend in need is a pest.'  

Friends can be useful as I say, 
Proverbs 27:6 'Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses.'
I have 'benefited' from many of such wounds.
"A friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of nature."  So claimed Ralph Waldo Emerson though he did not explain what problem the friend had saved him from.
And my favourite and most appropriate quote. 
Proverbs 17:17. "A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity." 

That sums up friendship but it is interesting how make and female react to it in differing ways.

  
After another week of suffering, I caught a cold on top of my ending cold and have not been out until today.  This morning I considered things were getting better and made a scurry up the road to fill the fridge.  Excellent I thought and had myself a good healthy lunch with green leaves and tomatoes, cheese and stuff, it all went down well.  
Now my insides hate me and my stomach will not let me eat anything else today.
When will it all end...?

 

Lovely Evening

It has been a lovely evening at the church men's group meeting.  We meet in the club next door to me and have a jolly good time discussing things of great merit, like various beers, prices and being without the woman interrupting all night.  Not only but being a private club of which many are members the prices are cheaper that regular pubs and the service friendlier.  
A smallish group tonight, including the second vicar, chatting about nothing and everything and getting to understand the men and their lives.  What a civilised way in which to do this, and cheap also, I liked that.  Such a shame it is only once a month.
One advantage is the fact that all, but the vicar and one other, have retired and apart from my leaving early to prepare for work tomorrow in the museum nobody has to rush.  This is one advantage of retirement.  The lack of money is the disadvantage.

Nothing else happened today....

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.

People

People are a nuisance!  The get in the way in shops, overcharge you when there, walk slowly on narrow pavements, drive fast on narrow streets.  Their cars block the path, their dogs bark late at night, their kids are unspeakable.  Their music is too loud and to awful, their dress sense is absurd, their manners non existent.  The hinder you at work, play, leisure and annoy you in your dreams.  Their football teams beat yours, their blogs get more followers, their writing makes them more money.  All such people are a pain!

Yet we canny live without them.  Good people, the ones you call friends, are important.  The lift you when down, help you financially, physically, emotionally, and wish nothing back in return.  They hurt you by not being there, and often by being there, they need you as much as you need them and sometimes you cannot live without them, except when you hate them.  When they pass by you feel warm and secure inside, when they leave you ache.

Life is strange sometimes ...  

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Cogitating

Syria, a land mostly ignored and up till now stable under its Assad dictatorship.
Suddenly it is rent in two by rebels, why?
The Assad regime forced a secular dictatorship on the land, this found much support among the Shia and indeed those who call themselves Christian.  While it ruthlessly suppressed any opposition in the Middle Eastern style it also allowed a great degree of controlled freedom.  People were educated, including women, and as long as you obeyed you survived.  Israel was however not keen, the border too close, previous wars left their mark and support for Hezbollah in Lebanon irked the Israeli's a wee bit.
The great powers did nothing.  Indeed deals were done which included Syria, did Assad not interrogate Islamist for the Bush regime in the US?  Now however somebody wishes to destabilise
Iran's nuclear threat and Syria is the place to do it.


A simple technique is used.  Sunni Saudi Arabia, who fear the Iran threat, and oil rich Sunni Qatar, are used to supply material to unsettle Assad.  They supply the money, the arms and other help to these 'rebels.'   Using Turkey, a key member of NATO, to supply weapons and protect the 'innocent civilians' along their border with Syria also threatens Assad.  This settled almost peaceful nation now has an army bent on slaughtering anyone who opposes the regime, uncontrolled militant groups on both sides happily killing young and old, and a 'rebel' force, now said to possess heavy weaponry, who are a mixed bunch with policies of a wide and varied kind. Nobody really knows what many of these people really look for.


Yet the west is happily encouraging this to worry Iran.  The danger is clear.  Russia and China may well take Iran's side, for whatever reason, and a new cold war, which will soon turn hot, is almost upon us.  Let us realise also that the divisions within Iran also show that nobody knows what their long term idea actually is!  Unsettling a peaceful dictatorship in Syria to attack Iran may be a clever plan to some but the results may well be catastrophic for us all.

Following on from 'friends' yesterday I got to thinking about how some folks collect 'friends' on social media sites.  In my humble opinion, and humble is the word, we only ever have two or three really close friends.  People who stick with you whatever your faults, and this because they like you.  We may also have a larger collection of a dozen or more 'friends,' possibly up to fifty or so if we belong to clubs or groups, who we regard as friends but are not going to be there forever.  We may also have a further larger group we know from such groups, work or whatever who we regard as acquaintances.  So I ask how do some folks have two or three thousand 'friends' on the 'facebook' or 'Twitter' accounts?   Are these real 'friends?'  Possibly we need another word for this?  Now famous people get followers, important folks, footballers, journalists etc, get similar followers who know and respect them, but these are not real 'friends.'  So why do folks gather hundreds of people they never will know and add them to their list?  maybe it's just me being jealous?  A handful of good people is better than hundreds you do not even have time to read or understand surely?

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Friends

Friends, how nice to have them.  Two, and I have at least one more, arrived on a visit today, the first time we have met face to face for about fifteen years. They are staying with their friends who have moved into this locale, and good luck to them, so took time out to meet handsome young me.  How they have aged while I stay the same!  They have not changed mind.  She immediately went off for a nose around into everything, typical woman!  She did ask first, which was most unlike her.  Had I said "No!" she would have gone ahead anyway.   

We first me forty years ago when I wandered into the church on Westbourne Grove, London, he was running at the time.  Having only been there just over a year he was young and eager, and delighted to trap another into attending.  Three years later I returned after a period back in Edinburgh, this time I was indeed trapped and found a home there.  Most folks who walk into 'The Grove' find it becomes a 'home.'  Many around the world have been there for a few short years (very London that) and have memories of their time there.  Once the pair had left and moved to the coast many kept in touch and as my 'spiritual adviser' (if shouting loud 'Why?' can be called advising)  we have been close ever since.  They became my second family, the first rusting away in the Edinburgh downpours (how lovely summer is up there) and I miss them and all their adventures.  Sometimes being far from folks is a good thing, but not always.

To sit for a couple of hours and discuss this and that was a treat, even though I had to rush around cleaning the place, looks like another new Hoover bag is needed already!  What laughs gossiping about other folks,well she did, men don't do that.  What a funny old world it is as people from their time at the 'Grove' are found all over the world, even in Mongolia of all places!  Folks we knew have been through some strange experiences, some good some bad, and even the renovated building now has flats at the top that cost over £2 million each!  Looking at pics of the modern flats where broken pews and peeling paints once stood is quite something.  'The Grove' itself remains the same as always I suspect.  Time marches on, and the mice run up the clock as someone said, or something.  OI!  I've just realised, that git has gone off with my pen!  Typical!

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Friends

Friends, we all have them, well some of us, and I was thinking of how they all disappear. What I mean is that at one time, when younger, several of us would meet regularly, often late into the night. A glance at the address book, one of them, shows that none of them are within a hundred miles of me now, and only three are in regular contact. It must be said that speaks a lot for their indulgence! What happens to the rest?

Life comes along and we move on. Jobs, university course end, marriage and other rotten things happen to us or them and suddenly a group of ten has become a group of three. This 'natural wastage' (as one boss once referred to myself) is usually replaced by incomers of one sort or another, if that is you had that many friends in the first place. In fact while we may belong to a large crowd of people usually up to a hundred may be 'friends' at one level, but only two or three are ever true friends. If your lucky you will live with one of these, if not bury her in the garden, nobody will notice until 'Time Team' come calling in a thousand years time. However there are many who become friends for a short time, through work or some other hindrance to life, it is these that come to mind tonight.

At one time I had an ansafone that was worked by small tapes. I found one that had been replaced one day and inserted the thing and came across a female voice who had been one of these friends. For the life of me I had no idea who she was! Clearly she was part of our social group, clearly she could not live without me (Stop it now!), but who was she? Photographs in albums give clear pictures of many friends, what were their names I wonder? Even if I remember a name or two I cannot always place them in any other way. How many people have had their lives touched (a suitable word) by me? Do they remember me now? Are they bitter and twisted at the thought of my name? Do any of them miss me?

Him and Her

Him and her have been my 'spiritual mentors' for a wee while now, since about 1971. They, and theirs, have been like a second family to me, and in turn I have been like a pain in the backside to them - constantly! I know this because in many different ways they have commented on it - and quite often at that. They now live by the seaside, surrounded by friends and running a huge successful church. This church, as you would expect, is full of loving kind people, who never argue, always consider the other better than themselves, submit to church authority, and generously give of their vast wealth.

There may be one or two slight exaggerations in that statement!

Now there has only been one wee problem with this couple - her! When he and I have sat down together to do something important, like watch Scotland beat England at rugby, she will interfere by asking questions. "Why has he fallen down?" Or, "Why not wait till the rain stops?" And so on. She has been very good in the kitchen - it is after all what women were made for, but never on any account ask her to buy bread or sandals. I may return to this point one day, but only when he is unlikely to be reading here. In between asking all the usual needless questions women her age ask, like "What do you eat?" (answer, "Food!") and showing photographs she has taken in one of their many jaunts abroad (always fotos of people you will never, ever meet, and always with full description of where they live, what they do and what their shoe size is), on top off all this she has decided to use up as much N.H.S. resources as she can. This is not really because she is sick, but being from Aberdeen and earning just enough to pay National Insurance she wants her monies worth!

So to this end she has decided to have a serious problem in the kidneys, and I think this offal! This means she will soon have to learn how to inject some horrid stuff into herself, I am looking away now, several times. The NHS folk appear slow in informing the woman as to when this will start, and it needs to begin soon, so can I ask you believers out there, yes you, if you could offer up a word to for her? We don't ask for her to jump the queue, we just want to know when and where etc. Without this she is devoid of energy, although she can still talk, and finds it frustrating when she cannot harangue the grandchildren in the accustomed manner.

This appeal is not made on behalf of the lass herself, but for him. Just so he does not have to listen to her moaning on and on about it. The poor man is worn out! Thanks.

Oh Dear

Here we go, chain mail!

Yes my friend at http://mulledvine.blogspot.com has done the dirty on....I mean extended his circle by including me in one of those 'Tag' things that live in the ether. This bothers me greatly, not that I mind this from him, but he wants me to pass this on to 'three friends!'. This is difficult, as I have none! I suppose I can dum...pass it onto one other, maybe two, but I hardly know them. Hmmmm, what to do?

Mind you, I was praying towards contacting friends from the distant past recently. Folk I have not been in touch with for years. It was time to put right wrongs, and reconnect I thought. Today I found the main man looking for me on 'Facebook!' Dearie me, Facebook has a use after all. Sooo pleased to see him I flung a sheep at him, as you do. Well I thought as he being Welsh it would remind him of home. Though how many sheep are found in Port Talbot remains to be seen i suspect. Prayer answered. What fun!

Anyway, this ra...man asks for seven things my readership (yes, this means both of you) do not know about me. However as none out there no anything about me this could be tricky. I mean do I tell the truth, slant it politician style, or just lie? Let us begin.....

1) I sit at my desk at the window on the first floor of my slum. I hide behind a plant which fills the window but fails to stop folks over the road think I am watching them. I would if these glasses let me see that far!
7) I once fed and watered a sweet young lass who worked for the 'Environment Department' of the local council. Next day my kitchen was closed down, by order!
3) I originated in the Western General Hospital in Edinburgh at nearly 3 O'clock in the morning. Mum got a row from the sister as she was told to hold me in till later. Jings!
5) I am useless at everything. I even failed the scouts tenderfoot stage - twice! DIY means call the fire brigade. I can't drive, I can't cook, I can't sing, although I can switch on the Radio 3 when I need to. I know nothing, but I am very good at putting my foot in it. I would like a job writing a short attention seeking column in a popular paper, I would upset enough folk to raise the sales.
2) I have studied history via the Open University for three years, receiving a '3' for each year and a request to find a change of subject from the last tutor. This study has been suspended by over work, when working, and poverty when not.
4) I have several dozen videos of programmes I have collected over the years. This was used to great benefit when desperate for something worth watching on telly. The VCR machine is bust!
6) Maths is not a strong point.

Now to find three folk who will hate me for ever..........

The Ominous Comma Very funny blog, a must read!
redfinger's forest deep Another good blog. I enjoy this one.

I love this also. Catpaw - diary of an angry cat

Now they will hate me forever! Thanks Mulled Vine.........