The Morning Shines Brightly

Amazingly the morning has shone brightly several days running now.  Today I trundled the rusty bike with my rusty knees along the way to see if I could catch it somewhere.  Indeed this old path with aged oak trees to one side (an aged map shows them there over a hundred years ago, how long can an oak tree last I wonder) offered a pleasant view at the top.  Beside me birds sang in the trees, young squirrels frantically looked for the way home and a proper forest, six foot wide, ran alongside the path.  This contrasts to the huge school field the other side of the fence justly hidden behind a stout fence and much vegetation. 

Only one early morning dog walker met my greeting and he was more concerned with his mobile phone and the many secrets therein to notice me.  The fact that he knows me and was too occupied to recognise me I let slide and passed on.  I suspect if we were able to read the messages contained on his phone we would not in the least find them interesting yet he stood head down ignoring the bored dog that wanted something to sniff while he perused his phone, he might still be there.

  
When they laid out the housing estate the clever people allowed much of the copse that existed to remain.  If you choose to ignore the old crisp packets and plastic bottles lying around from the scruffy unkempt types who wander through it does give a brief indication of a wood.  The more we build houses the more we require such small glimpses of green to enable us to breathe freely.  The mind can only comprehend so much stone and brick, it requires trees and green grass with areas of sky to let the mind relax.  The Victorians knew this only too well.  The rise in suburbs expanding out from town and city centres, slums all too often left behind, caused a longing for a romantic and unrealistic country life.  The song lines 'You could see to 'ackney Marshes, if it wasn't for the 'ouses in between' comes to mind.  The romantic vision ignored the damp country shacks, the poor life of the villagers, hard toil in fields and the disease that was just as prevalent as in town.  However from a crowded slum tenement after a 96 hour week it could be made to look attractive. 
Life is always better over there.   

This strange colour has been hanging all over the country today.  
I think the sky is broken!

Tuseday Tittle-Tattle

Last night I sat entranced at the bright red sky as the sun went down.  Had I not been otherwise occupied I may have tries to get outside and capture the sky.   Around half nine the sky was still stunning and I attempted pityfully to capture the night.  It was almost like this.  I awoke at ten past four this morning and found the sky lighter and still stunning.  How wonderful this time of the year can be, if it doesn't rain or cloud over.    
Of course as the sun shone I was inside the museum meeting good people and watching the boss work three peoples jobs.  I could not help while working the shop, most unfortunate.  The school was good, cheery kids.  
I had to rush home because the man was coming to check out the sink that had sunk.  Naturaly he came after two as planned, around five actually as not planned.  They had been working in Camoludunum.  Once here they quickly decided the job would entail replacing the entire unit, this meant a big job in a narrow space and both agreed it was time for going home.  So this will be replaced in time, probably a long time, and I will struggle on with the damaged tap until he can work up the courage and time to do the job. 
I might leave home while they do it!

Another outrage in Manchester, not the first they have suffered.  The media are filling spaces with masses of speculation and little substance so I am avoiding them. When I awake at four this morning I heard the early news and the guesswork as to what was happening.  I gave up as they began the tedious repeating of the same question to different people to get the same story over and over with little understanding of what was going on.  This is not journalism just filling air time.
 So what are we to do, what are we to make of this killing of around 22 people and wounding of dozens of others?  The rest of the audience, mostly adolescent and teenage girls, will be somewhat traumatised for years after this.  The apparent lack of stewards to guide or control them after the event was worrying and a greater disaster was avoided by luck it appears to me.
Today everyone is 'standing with Manchester' as you might expect.  This is good but we must ask will it happen again and why does it happen?  

The UK and the French, then the USA have been kicking Arabs about for over two hundred years.  The needs of Empire, or just greed, have ensured the woshes of what was considered the backward Arabs was of no importance to London or Paris.  The greater game was their concern and the dying Ottoman Empire and Arab opinion dd not count.  
Britain and France under the Sykes-Picot agreement, with Russian acceptance, divided the dead Ottoman Empire between themselves after the Great War.  The only Arabs considered worthy of discussion were lied to and their understanding of the situation totally amended to suit the agreement.  They were not happy.  
The resultant creation of several new nations, not all split thoughtfully enough it must be said, has led to nothing but war, assassination and bad feeling ever after.  
Now in more recent times to save the west from the nasty Iranians under the Ayattollah the Americans (That nice Mr Rumsfeld again) gave the Iraqis help when fighting Iran and ignored the million or two dead and dying because they were not 'us' and anyway far away.  What could possibly go wrong?
Well Saddam did not play ball for a start, the first Gulf War causing many thousands of deaths, but mostly Arabs, the second, needless, war cost more and being badly managed by Rumsfeld and Cheney led to the break up of Iraq, the growth of Al-Queda and Islamic State and how many other Islamic type groupings.
Now add Obamas desperate attepmt, an attempt desired by most in the US, to bring his troops home from Iraq and Afghanistan and see the fear rise in Saudi Arabia at the growth of Iran and their nuclear weapons.  Result?  The war against Syria led and paid for by Saudi's using ISIS and all the others to break up a peaceful and more tolerant state than Saudi Arabia. The result of this is the growth of ISIS and their attempt to build up and take over Saudi!  
It gets confusing from here on so I will let you guess the rest.

Now we have young men in many places convinced they ought to be strict Muslims fed a diet of radical teaching by persons unknown.  Those less competent as well as those who should know better respond to this as young men do who wish to change the world.  Many have died fighting in the Middle East.  Others have attempted action in the UK with only police action defeating them and usually with information from Islamic sources.  Fed a belief that dying makes you a martyr and glory awaits encourages many to enlist.  Young men respond to this and some take action.  
Whoever took action last night considers his act worthy of his faith.  With Muslim men, women and children killed by the west he considers his actions defending his faith.  Any Muslim killed would be seen as a martyr also, others merely unbelievers.  The fact that most were young girls will not deter him, the Middle East has seen many such suffer terribly over the years from Muslims and a few westerners would not cause the conscience much trouble.

We cannot defeat this behaviour by force.  It requires propaganda and actions to stabalise the Middle East and deal with each nations fears.  There appears little suggestion of such happeneing these days.  The US has just sold billions of dollars worth of weapons to Saudi Arabia, no doubt also to Israel, and anyone else who toes the western line.  That will not ensure peace.  
I thought I had a conclusion to put in here and I discovered I have none.  All that is in my mind remains the thousands of Muslims who die this way and we care not.  Baghdad, Beirut, Kabul anywhere in Pakistan all suffer outrages and most are not reported in the west.  We stand with one another in the west heightening the separation of two sides, each outrage polarising opinion and killing sensible debate on both sides. 
No wonder people read the media for easy answers.

  

Morning Cycle

The rolling English countryside early in the morning sun is a grand sight, however if a developer gets his way this grand sight will turn into 1600 houses, plus Doctors Surgery etc.  The old railway walk will descend into just another litter covered backyard for thousands more people.  Since arriving here 21  years ago the population has grown from 30,000 to 40,000, the need for homes and the greed of developers would increase it by 30,000 more if they could.  The fightback appears to be holding at the moment, the first plan was turned down, the new one has faults and hopefully will not go ahead.  There are areas where such housing could be placed, this however is not one of them.

One man who would be happy is the farmer who I presume lives in this house.  He has been trying to sell up for years and who can blame him?  Farming is a hard life and easy money from the EU will end soon with no replacements on offer, even from a Tory Party that relies on farmer Jones and his vote, so selling the land for housing makes sense to him.  He will move far away I'm sure. 
The farmer requires a decent deal but housing will go against the needs of the locals for green space, and this development will join the town to the village and destroy the appeal for those living there.  Quite what the answer to this can be I know not.  
Just a wee bit further up the line they collected money to buy the land and use as a nature reserve, with added facilities for those health freaks looking for a place to exercise.  This is a good idea but money is not available for the land the farmer wishes to dump.  If only I had become the Billionaire I was meant to be...

Avoiding me at a distance were several horses.  The field here often has a horse or two, head down and uninterested in passersby, and I note rarely the same horses.  Maybe he trades them, hires them or just offers a field to feed them in. I don't know why?  The rabbits seem content with their arrival and look down their nose at the camera from a great distance, which is why there are no pictures of them.  This is the edge of the village which will be attached to the 1600 houses if greedy developer gets his way.  

  
The idea of rising early and cycling appeared a good one late last night, this morning it took on a different hue.  However my knees need the exercise so off I went, immediately unhappy about it, and in spite of the early morning traffic, the pain, the chill, I kept going and got some way up the old line before my knees began giving me their opinion of it all.  
The aroma early in the morn of the vegetation, the birds singing while hidden in the trees above, the glimpse of blue in the sky, all made for a delightful start to the day.  A dog was keen to make friends, the owner well she was less keen, while one other dog walker informed me the old industrial estate will soon be 125 houses, including flats!  I must agree with housing there as the place was almost empty of companies and gypsies were moving in, and that means vast amounts of rubbish left behind for others to clear.  Housing of the right type in the right place can be accepted.

Bluebells abound at the moment and it is a pity I am too far from the woods where they cover the land.  Yesterday I was shown pictures of woodland that was a mass of blue from one end to the other.  All I found were the poor wee things outside my door.  

Blossom is beginning to fail.  The bright white on some trees has fallen and these lovely red ones are turning a slight pink shade.  These are not long for this world so now is the time to picture them until next year.  The park was originally a house belonging to one of the rich folks who gave much to the town.  The gardens were very well organised, whoever planned them distributed a variety of trees around the place and after a hundred and more years some are beginning to fail.  The council have cut down several that were diseased or dangerous and have begun planting new ones in appropriate areas.  This blossom is quite new and is flourishing happily, hopefully all the others will do so also.

Home to find carpetlayers in the hall hammering away all day.  Just what my tired mind wants to hear.  However I fed them tea, once only in case they stay too long, and while doing this broke the kettle!  Since buying it there has been problems and now it has failed.  The bin for this and back to Tesco later for a new (cheap) one.  Yesterday I had to go there to replace the iron which died, the water dripped out the bottom alarmingly, and now more money is to be spent.  I wish I could survive as well as the Crows who I found feeding themselves in the town centre this morning.

Newsworthy, No!

I watched the headlines on the 6 o'clock TV news and lost interest in the full stories.  

This nation is obsessed with the EU Referendum, or at least the media is, the media is of course almost entirely controlled by Conservative types or self made billionaires on the make.  The slanted half truths and lies never end and real facts are hard to find however these two sites may help 'Reality Check' or 'Kings College.'

The rest of the news was typical of the times, worthless space filling.  How limited and controlled the media are, sometimes by governments, often by rich media bosses on the make and all influenced by the need to sell and all the while listening to each and every lobby group that appears.   "Facts, Facts, facts," said Mr Grandgrind!  No chance today unless you search the web.

Mostly these days I hear the news on the wireless via Radio 3 as this is short, well read and tells us we need to avoid listening to the drivel that longer news programmes offer. 

 

I dreampt about buying a new house again today.  It's not that I have bought a house, it's just that I dreampt about it once again.  There are two problems with bringing this dream into reality, one is the need to find £500,000 (that's half a million!) against my bank balance of £47: 23p.  The other problem is the man who lives there at the moment.  For entirely selfish reasons he refuses to move out and let me move in.  Indeed he was keen to strongly make the point he would move out only 'over my dead body.'  This I offered to help him with but he demurred.  Pity as it is a nice place with a nice garden.

Quite how anyone can buy under this grasping government beats me.  The lowest price here is £62,000 and that is for a pokey wee flat in an 'Over 50's only' block.  I would not want that!  The cheapest one bed flat is £84,000 and that is appalling!  Fine for one, not for two.  The first 'house' turns out to be a narrow one bed place costing £170,000 and for £185,000  you get a modern mid terrace proper house (in which I suspect you hear the neighbours easily).  How can a workingman afford this?  A mortgage may give four times your salary, around £15-25,000 for most, that gives a total of £60,000 to £100,000 as long as you don't become sick, over 50 or unemployed.  

The answer they say (or at least developers who bribe MP's say) is to build more houses on green belt land.  These people already have plans for Brown field sites use them first I say.     

What's That in the Distance?

During the second world war (1939-1945 in case you missed it) a mistake was made.  Fear of invasion led to the erection of many 'pill boxes' around the land and those in charge of defence made one little error.  A line of 'pill boxes' and other deterrents were strung across southern England in an attempt to stop any approaching army.  When placed in charge of such defences General Alan Brooke quickly caused this to stop and followed the correct procedure, one later used by Field Marshall Edwin Rommell along the Atlantic coast, which was to make every effort to stop an invader on the beaches so they could not secure and establish a 'bridgehead.'  Therefore he turned attention away from inland and beaches everywhere were crowded by builders busily working out their profits while ladling cement onto little round boxes suitable for two or three machine gun armed men. In the distance while passing wearily home from the crowds in Chelmsford's centre I noted this lump in a field.  At first I thought it was hay bales that farmers often pile up, usually however next to farm buildings, and later realised this was one of the old 'pill box' defences.

On Friday after wandering around the churchyard I came past the field and crossed the path well worn by dog walkers toward the concrete box.  It was clearly well used by the younger generation and the original door long removed for other use and a hole large enough for my bulk to enter had been created.
I have wanted to get inside one of these for eons.  Here I was in the smelly, plastic bottle and other crap littered den, plastic not a substance that has been left by the original users.  This was a mess, the concrete worn and corrugated iron sheets peeling from the wall however it was large enough for me to stand upright and I moved into the separate compartment inside where the rubble made waking difficult and darkness made it hazardous.  

 
The field of view was interesting however and would not have been welcomed by the folks living in the houses over there.  Had an invasion occurred most of the Regular Army would have been placed down at the beachhead and places further inland such as this would have possibly been occupied by Territorials or the 'Home Guard, 'Dad's Army.  How would they feel in this dark place lit by candles or oil lamp probably when confronted by a large German force intent on blowing them up?  It would be a case of hanging on as long as possible before they finally shoved a grenade through the hole and finished you off.

This field slopes down towards the River Chelmer, a small narrow stream at this point and I suspect it often overflows in winter almost up to the 'pill boxes.'  I say 'boxes' as I had not noticed until I got near that there was another tucked away at the bottom of the slope.  Crafty indeed and if the enemy came when crops had risen and were still green this box would be completely hidden until too late. 
In spite of weariness I dragged my bulk across.

 
This smiling face was very different possibly reflecting the constantly changing demands of the War Department (WD) something else that gave the builders much to think about, possibly however they thought more about the great time lag before they actually received any money from the WD!
This was cosier, the wall inside, the door has long gone possibly to use as firewood, and this one is almost untouched.  Behind the blast wall visible inside the door there is nothing but five wee windows opening out over the field and over the river behind.  An excellent position but suicide for anyone occupying this if under fire.  This too was tall enough to stand upright in, little litter was found and looks to me as being almost perfect.

This one does give excellent cover for his mate in the first box and with the 'Home Guard' being trained in their use could it be they fired some sort of projectile by accident into their pals box?  Just asking!  That brings to mind the 'Dad's Army' on the island in the Firth of Forth.  Their job was to fire at enemy aircraft heading towards Rosyth Naval Base and Glasgow further on as well as defend Edinburgh.  However some of the shells were large ones and practice consisted of firing dummy shells out to sea.  On one occasions our heroes managed to fire a large dummy shell into a house in Leith causing considerable damage and irritation.  The residents comments have not been recorded.

From the Firth of Forth to the Chelmer!  A pretty little river here but this area has not been built on and I suspect this is because of midwinter flooding.  Good, this is a pleasant area for those walking dogs or just wanting to commune with creation and I hope this remains like this for some time.

An abundance of this was found by the path as I made my way for the bus, driven by a friendly driver.  Is this 'elderberry' I wonder, as you know I'm not good at plant names.  This type of thing flourishes at this time and the councils have learnt to let it stay until some moaning minnie  grumbles about what it is doing to their coats as they pass.  The beasties must love it and so do I.  Not that I actually eat it you understand.

I noticed this house as I waited for the bus.  The design is typical of Essex.  Small semi detached workers cottages once lived in by farmers labourers and the like.  I note this one has been extended at both ends adding a door one the near end and similar at the other but there an extension, possibly a kitchen has grown on also.  Many similar are found in the area but I wonder if the occupants can put aside the Satellite TV for a while to plant potatoes and cut the grass in the garden? 

A Walk

  
Having got myself on the bike this morning, I had to get myself on the bike as no-one would help, and cycling around for thirty minutes, it may have been five but it felt like thirty, and finished by coming up the slope in the park and near killing myself I found climbing the stairs back home enough for the day, or so I thought.
Exercise is a good thing when you are young and fit, it is less entertaining when a short bike ride leaves the rider looking for a defibrillator!  However I made it and more will occur if I remember tomorrow and at the weekend.  I am now searching the weather forecast hoping for rain!
During the afternoon I decided my knees, now aching with stiffness required a walk.  Off we hobbled across the park as the clouds that have covered us for a week thinned out and pretended they were going to let the sun shine through, they didn't!  
There is an old picture from around 200 years ago showing this park as a field, a cow or two grazing idly and a yokel wandering about.  In the distance the new Congregational church building stands alongside one or two grand houses, the church the only remaining memory of that time.  All else has changed.  Probably owned by a wealthy type and farmed by tenant farmers the field was turned into the grounds of the large house built by one of the Courtauld family of weaving fame.  His grand large home lasted for around forty years before it passed into the hands of a school in whose possesion it remained for many years.  Near one gate there was a grass verge and one day I saw a lady of undetermined age walk across this grass quite deliberately.
"I was never allowed to do this while at the school so I am doing it now," she laughed and went on her way.  In recent times the house became flash flats with a few houses alongside owned by folks who can afford half a million, I did not apply.  
Passing the school gym which now serves as the registry office usually with a flash car dressed for a bride outside, I walked slowly past the few large houses that stand alongside the church.  The names and uses have changed with the years, one superb house is now used by the Salvation Army to rehouse people with specific difficulties, another rebuilt by a painter and decorator and the only one I can identify used by a Council 'Community' office whatever that is.  The gray brick community building was built by one John Brown, his initials in the Latin version 'IJ' and seen above the door, Latin was the trendy Victorian manner, and it is clear he did well for himself in his day.  As far as I can gather he began as a brickie and later made bricks near the railway and made his money that way.  It is clear he had talent and was seen by the later years of the nineteenth century as one of the towns more important people.  He would be shocked by the house today.  In fact several other houses have similar styles if not the same bricks and possibly he built them, or got his men to do so, and established his reputation.  He is not there now of course.
I strolled against the wind along the Roman Road called Stane Street (which also lies outside my window) heading east.  I passed the 'Horse & Groom' a pub where one Saturday lunchtime two workmates ran outside and pulled me through the door and made me join them!  Even in 1937 this pub was where people gathered if they wished goods to be taken to the villages round about.  Most pubs continued the tradition of carriers, by vehicle in the thirties no longer plodding horse and carts, delivering goods near and far, well into the big towns at least.  The 'Horse & Groom' appeared to be best placed for the villages within a ten mile radius.  UPS and a variety of others can find their beginnings in men plodding along at two miles an hour beside a pair of carthorses with loaded cart.

The rest of this side of the street contains many houses from the past including further along a row of weavers houses, the narrow homes contain windows designed to aid weavers.  It is said that once upon a time the attic roof had no divisions as long rolls of cloth would be stretched out up there.  On the other side of the street all was demolished and a new roadway capable of dealing with increased traffic established, also the new shopping centre sweeping away generations of buildings.  However the museum benefited from this as an archaeological dig must take place before building work and many items were found.  There is a Iron Age, Roman and Anglo Saxon finds from there.  A hamlet of some sort containing roundhouses was later joined by Roman dwellings.  When Rome withered and the Saxons arrived the may well have farmed much of this area although it is possible there were houses at this spot also.  Now there is a variety of modern day shops in the usual style, sometimes I wish the one time inhabitants were still around.  

I wandered about the town for a while and made my way home.   I came back via the park, the sun still striving to break through as it dipped in the west but the clouds were not relenting.  A couple of new houses are being constructed nearby right next to the road and not far from the skatepark.  How the new tenants will love those brats come summer!  Along Stane Street, but a different part my aged home stands, just.  The houses nearby go back some distance also, at least two hundred years but possibly more.  It is possible to discover something of those who lived there in the last hundred years but going further back this is harder.  When I have time I will seek more re the doctors who used this building as a surgery and the woman who made corsets in the 1920's, I wonder how she made enough for this place!  Maybe their story will always be hidden.

The Sea! The Sea! It's Wet...

Having arrived for a rest from my labours I was taken on a walk through a park, up the high Street crowded with heavy traffic and thousand's of people and then forced along the beach.  We started high up along the chine where seaside flats with large windows and enclosed balconies start at around £400,00 and with houses on the shore with views over Poole Harbour fetching between £3 and 10 million.  I will not be buying one.   

 
I was not only frogmarched along the shore but then forced to climb back up the chine the hard way - going upwards!  We took a shortcut (he said) to make it easier but I lost two stone in weight by the time we reached the top.  

The sand along here is well maintained. Earlier this year in was renewed as storms had taken much away and we watched a tractor pulling deep sand back from the stairs down to the beach, the tide has raised this several feet and his job was to pull it all back.  He soon gave up we noticed.  During the summer there are many guards on duty, strict control over the promenade, two cyclists who went through at the wrong times were fine £50 plus much more in costs for cycling at the wrong times, and huts are placed at various intervals for the many problems families bring with them, or children as they are known.  

We began our Matterhorn like ascent around here at the back of a somewhat grubby hotel.  Had we been able to continue we would have reached Sandbanks where the multi million pound houses are found but instead climbed to the mere million pound ones.  Flats here have wonderful views and are the last resting places of the wealthier type who retire here to waste the cash their children hoped they would inherit.  We were personally ignored by several of those. 

Poole Harbour, a lovely spot with water only a few feet deep for a long way out.  Usually you see people standing next to a boat far out but few were about this day.  In the middle of course the water is very deep and the Bologne Ferry passes by at regular intervals along side other large ships winding their way in.  The views here are magnificent, the weather always changeable but always offering a variety of sky to look at and wonder.  A very popular place to parade and only £2.5 million for a house, reasonable I say.  

This was to be the picture of us receiving oxygen from a passing paramedic crew but I considered it too unsavoury for tender hearts...

Before Breakfast...

Long before seven this morning I trundled the bike up part of the old railway to look at the mist hovering over the land.  Even most dog walkers were still abed which indicates the chill in the morning.  The sun was dissipating the mist as I arrived, low lying clouds lay like an Edinburgh Haar over parts.  

To think a developer now wishes to plant several hundred houses here (plus GP etc) and the farmer is very keen to sell.  A couple of years ago similar plans for 500 houses were turned down after a long campaign, I suspect similar to arise now.  This is a wonderful natural spot, well cared for by the Park Rangers and so many houses will ruin it.  With this grasping governments attitude 'build and be damned' and a desperate need for housing this one may get some homes built.  There again maybe there is not so much need for housing after all, maybe stopping greedy Russians and Chines buying all of Central London and raising the cost of houses would enable Brits to obtain one already built?
Maybe encouraging people not to divorce might keep families together, support marriage rather than destroy it, tell single women to find their own accommodation when they have a baby rather than use council ones.  All such ideas will not get votes but could improve society.
We are being forced apart by the spirit of the air.  Independence and not community is the bias in the airways.  Self rights are more important than society duty, me first, and let others hang is the way.  Today parliament debate the 'assisted suicide bill.'  This is to allow people who wish to die to do so.  To many consider this a 'right' and others from compassion think it a good idea.  I remind them of the woman today who has been found to have written a note from her husband claiming he wished not to be revived, and she had poisoned him and written the note herself.  'Assisted suicide' is an excellent way to remove ageing or sick family members, especially if there is money to be found in the will.  I await their deliberations tonight.

I exchanged s few friendly words with one young lass as I grasped the camera expectantly noticing her dog, a golden retriever, wandering in and out of the wet grasses that abounded today.  I was glad I did not have to wash the beast when I got home, and she had another somewhere about also.  As I turned for home, my knees requesting this, I noticed this figure heading towards me.  She had the right idea, cycle alongside the dog, it makes him run faster and enables you to get home quicker! A not unusual idea and worth considering as the dog and you benefit.  Unless you fall off obviously!

   
High above holiday makers and a few business people headed elsewhere.  This may have been an inland flight to Edinburgh or Belfast possibly but it may well have had a European airport in its sights.  No-one appeared to wave from the window.   The thought that this seven in the morning take off meant the travellers probably left home at midnight or three in the morning to get to Stansted for the flight shows the problems re air travel today.  The flight to Edinburgh takes an hour, the preparation for take off three!  I may just cycle there next time.

After a massage from the Vietnamese Curry House and Takeaway Massage girls I might feel better however now I think I have been run over by a bus.  They say this makes you fitter, 'they' are not doing it....

Talk to the Wall

I've been talking to the wall.
Early this morning I had a word with one or two folks at the market stalls, later I phoned a woman and listened for fifteen minutes, and after making the stew I spoke to the wall.
It struck me this wall had something to say about the life that had passed by since 1812 when it was erected, possibly as cottages for workers at the 'Big Hoose' behind us.
The 'Big Hoose' has long since gone and been replaced with the Police station, hence the regular sirens you hear while reading this.  Whether the owner of the 'Big Hoose' remains there is unknown.
So I asked the wall about previous residents, mostly in recent years short term tenants of a few months to a couple of years, except me obviously.  
The landlord took over the place from the doctor.  He moved in during the thirties and used the house as it then was as his surgery.  Scratching around it appears to me his dad lived round the corner in one of the expensive houses there, dying in 1944, and the doctor happily practiced for many years until selling out to my landlord.  Why I ask did he have to practice?  Did he not study enough?  Anyway I have the feeling he served in the Notts & Derby regiment during the Great War, being 'gazetted' in 1918.  This a regiment that was billeted on this town during that war but would they be billeted on such a house as this was then?  My neighbour heard tow women mention this as 'that used to be the doctors house' as they passed.  Doctors appear to be something women do not forget. This however makes me wonder how the house was set up then. Certainly it was changed when the landlord converted it into flats and rebuilt the back end with little major change since.  Did he live upstairs and operate, if you see what I mean downstairs?  Not much room and lots of nosey people looking in as they pass too.
Before this  a couple married in 1930 moved in.  No idea what he did but to buy or rent this place at that time he must have been well paid.  Too little time at the moment to investigate and relying on details I discovered a long time back. Certainly he moved out when the doctor needle arrived and lived until 1981 somewhere cheaper in the town.
Before him, at least during 1926, a woman describing herself as a 'corsetiere' worked from here. She knew how to get around women!  I suppose that explains the whale bones that turn up every now and again.  
The wall saw them all.
It saw some strange things when the doctor was here, his examinations, his explanations and the often tearful response of his patients.  The couple with a possible family may have been more fun of course while the wonders of corsets and the sight of those requiring them may have made the wall look away!
During that time the town was lit by gas, the street lighting until 1956 indeed. The houses may have had electric light but did they have bathrooms by the first world war?  The wall saw, or heard, bombs fall during two wars but remained unmoved, horses clip-clopped past while folks ran out to help their roses grow. Gas lamps and more often oil lamps, candles and roaring coal fires lit the house during the hours of darkness.  No radios until the thirties, no TV, no noise for most of its life bar human voice and movement.  A occasional phone when the doctor was here perhaps.  
The original dwellers may have had a family of up to a dozen children running around.  Possibly a senior employee of the big house moved in, maybe a manager on a farm, there were lots around.
Just how many folks have lived here intrigues.  Their ups and downs would make a better TV show than that shown today.  The wall however will not reveal if any buried treasure in the garden, it claims he could not see from here!  Bah!

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A Walk in the Past.

Having slept well I disobeyed orders and changed my mind about trekking to Chelmsford and the Record Office as I wished to go back to bed catch up with things.  This I singularly failed to do!  Instead I fiddled, fuddled and avoided things that could be avoided and caught up with emails regarding fallen soldiers. That did take a while mind.  
The bright sun fooling people into thinking it was warm tempted me out to capture pictures of the blue sky and something nice.  All I found was a chimney. It so happened that yesterday I was busy browsing a book on a local village housing.  The old houses date back to the 1300's in some cases though more came later and all have been constantly revamped.  One thing that struck me was the use of chimneys. These appeared in the late 1400's so what did they do before I wondered. However work meant I was unable to read further and satisfy my curiosity.  This building, like many down this street, are worth looking at, try it here Bradford Street.  This one started in the 15th century and was added to in the 16th and 17th, constantly improved but showing some style, even if somewhat mixed.  I have always been attracted to the scene at the side, reminiscent of an old world look.  Most of these houses have connections to the wool trade later evolving into weaving, dying and so on.  The Flemish weavers and their 'Bays and Stays' were so honest that once ordered people never checked the goods as they knew it would be as required with no cheating.  The cloth trade continued until recently when Courtauld's closed down in the 90's.

Once home I attempted work and failed.  

That was not a new experience.

  

Fire, Library, Butcher.

Returning from a day in Chelmsford Library looking at microfiche and searching through books I stopped off to look at the fire damage.  This building has stood here since the late 1500's and has of course been much changed over the years. I always loved it, the jetted front, the small dated windows, and I suspect creaking stairs inside.  In recent years the bottom has been a wine bar, restaurant and so on, all have failed and now the premises are used by a church group working with the 'homeless.'   Up above rooms are let and a variety of types make use of them.  In spite of original complaints there appears to have been no problems, at least none I have heard of anyway. Last night however rumour tells us a young man was informed he would be leaving, evicted is the word, and he apparently was none to happy about this.  

It has become obvious he was none to happy as his method of expression was to throw White Spirit about the place, light a match and stand well clear.  The chap who rumour claims was in the shower at the time was not happy with this expression of opinions.  He was high up in the three story building when he discovered the smoke choking him.  He got onto the roof and a double decker bus returning to the garage was brought close and he leapt onto the roof from where the firemen rescued him.  

The top floors are damaged, water damage from the fire hoses has reached the shops on the ground and the poor florist on the corner may end up losing her business.  Three of them were working on the Valentines Day (none for me thanks) flowers when the firemen knocked on the door to tell them the flats above were burning!  Luckily an empty property in the centre has been given to them for temporary use. Her business may still suffer badly mind.

Police are looking for a nineteen year old man, so there is no doubt who is responsible, and work on the building, if it survives, may go on for months.  The smell hangs about in the air as the fireman slogs his way dampening down the place.  

This blocked the road and caused my bus to drive the long way around town to head south.  In fact we arrived a wee bit early while I expected it to hinder us. I therefore headed through the town, stopping at the Cathedral for a moment and found myself impressed with a sculpture in the prayer chapel.  It is not often such things attract me but this one, photographed discretely from a distance, did look OK to me. Less impressive was the price on the second hand cameras in the local camera shop.  Certainly asking £45 for an aged Olympus Trip was excessive so you can imagine the prices of the better stuff!  Following an attractive thin legged well dressed woman, by accident obviously, I came to the market where I had a butcher at the butchers while not surprisingly I lost her as she entered a show shop, drawn irresistibly as a moth to a light bulb!  Looking at the butchers was useful however as my fridge was as empty as my intellect, and my chances as it happens.  

So I found myself in the library (pronounced 'in t' library' for those in Yorkshire) climbed down the stairs to enter, climbed up the stairs to the quiet local reference area and began to browse.  It amazed me that such a building should house the library and the Essex Council Buildings when so many stairs are in use. To enter the council many more stairs climb up and down, only a council could get away with it!  There are lifts obviously but really!  

Anyway I browsed the books, grabbed very little info and discovered the microfiche of the WW2 newspapers!  I browsed, once they had been unlocked and instructed on how not to break the machine, a suitable periodical and was impressed as to how little difference there was between those editions and today's.  Certainly tales of war derring-do are limited today but the theft, complaints letters, and sensational headlines are similar.  One thing was very good, the ability to advertise for male or female staff!  How lovely to see PROPER ADVERTS again!  Mind you the housekeeper adverts never revealed how much you were paid, so that was not good!  I loved the advert for 'Craven 'A'' Cigarettes, 'For your throat's sake' it claimed!  Another interesting point was how little was expressed in this weekly newspaper.  A German 'Junkers 88' aircraft brought down by anti-aircraft fire 'a bright orange glow in the sky' was said to have crashed 'seven miles north of an Essex town.'  No town name is given in 1944 just in case the Germans find out.  In fact considering the years of war past so little was said in the paper, but that is to be expected.   

Now I know all about this I must go back and research better when I have more time and know what I am looking for.  On returning I went to see the boss to discover a lead as to what next and found her elsewhere. Tsk!  Typical!  So I made my way home clutching the chicken, meat and pies I bought at the butchers.  £11 for a few days meals is not bad all things considered as this will do for most of the week now.  

One thing I noted is the attitudes in a large town, now called a 'city' in comparison to those of this sleepy market town.  How miserable they appear, how unwilling to speak, unless selling something, although the staff at the library were acceptable in their behaviour.  I did note the unsmiling nature the larger the town however.  Incidentally Chelmsford was granted 'City' status not because it is the centre of Essex, a boring centre I say, but because Colchester, a much more interesting place, turned it down.  The peoples if Colchester regard their town as the 'oldest town in England,' this title they would lose if they became a 'city' so they avoided it to keep the tourists!

Ah fame!

    

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More!

As yesterday's post was so successful I will post a hundred more pictures from the day.  What's that you say....?  

Usually this river is teeming with ducks but at the time only this family of swans were elegantly dumping their damp feather all over the bank.  Difficult to take pictures when the vehicles are an inch from your heels.  Old villages ideas of wide roads do not fit in with mine.  

These have the look of Victorian Alms Houses, designed for the 'deserving poor' to keep them in their old age.  Quite who qualified and how I know not but it is better than the Workhouse. Who lives their now?  Something at the back of my mind indicates they have long since been sold.  I do like the statue at the door however, that is the first time I have seen one that fits in place!

This is Spooner's House dating back to 1467 they say.  It does look like two houses have been knocked together and what once was doors are now two large windows.  I preferred the doors that once stood there but I suppose these folks like to see what they are eating.  Of course since they were built all these houses have changed inside and out over the years.  If only my landlord would change our windows instead of just painting them to make them look as if they are OK.

Outside one of the remaining junk antique shops i saw this bike used as dressing for the shopfront. Very good indeed I thought and I was impressed by the finding of a bike in worse condition than mine!  I suspect this bike was dragged from the bottom of the river but whether the lass riding it at the time was also recovered is not made clear.  

Of course if I have nothing else to say I will use the other pictures....

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