Slow Day

It's been a long boring day.  Once the Motherwell v Rangers game was over all else appeared boring.  That game was worth watching, especially as Motherwell got their deserved equaliser with almost the last kick.  That nice Mr Gerrard has just realised how difficult this league will be.  He still has to go twice to Edinburgh to play the Heart of Midlothian and Hibernian, not at the same time, and our big centre Uchi will enjoy the men we saw out there today.
After that a succession of boring French and German football appeared, these, while offering decent amounts of skill were slow in comparison and the French league is the poorest of the two.  Yet these players get transferred for many millions while Scot lads are cheap?  Something wrong somewhere.
Not leaving the house has left me bored, no emails, only one chancer phone call and nothing to divert my attention from my troubles.  A boring day, and the rain falling all afternoon did not help the chill that gripped me today, another couple of days of sneezing lie ahead as if I have not got enough problems.
Any news?  No, it has all been swept under the carpet except for that attacking Scots independence, the media enjoy that while hiding their own bad news.  Clearly Independence is a threat again and the bad news stories are starting to appear in the media, more to come.  

Nothing to Say

Nothing to say as I have been lazy, nothing happened, and football was on...

Shopping Joy and Holiday Carnival...

Westbourne Grove Church

Having forced myself into Tesco late this morning, forced is the word as the place was bloated with people, most not quite clear as to what they were doing, I obtained most of my needs and the most important gift card for yet another nieces birthday.  I am convinced that some of these girls are fraudulent as there appears to be a birthday every month and sometimes two!  Are these really family members or hangers on who have somehow got their name on my calendar, it is a mystery. 

Back home resting my maladies I became aware that Monday is a Bank Holiday.  As the card must arrive by Monday that means I must post it now and ensure it gets there on Saturday, this meant leaving my comfort and once again heading into town.

After much shillyshallying I trudged all the way into town, some seven minutes away, and posted the card in the box I know will be collected, sometimes Mr Postman misses the nearer one, the cad!  

As I sauntered around I had intended to visit Sainsbury's and collect the oven chips that I forgot when amongst the masses in Tesco earlier but the herds of people suddenly had vanished!  The streets were clear, well almost, and 'Iceland' lay over the road with few people to be seen.  Naturally with only one item to obtain I spent £14:63!!!  At least the freezer compartment is full now.   I even tolerated the 16 year old with an attitude.  This was a surprise as most of the girls here in Iceland are usually quite good, cheery even, I suppose working is a new experience for some.

The Bank Holiday brings out the Notting Hill Carnival and whenever I see pictures of this I am glad to be out here far from the event.  Over a million people, hassle, police, yobs, noise and mess everywhere, it makes me glad to be here indeed.  The church pictured where my friend is minister has to close on Sunday because of the crowds.  In times past it remained open but many struggled to get past the police cordon to get in, then struggle again to get out.  The church attempted to make something out of the carnival by opening and offering tea and coffee but that had too many problems and nowadays it is easier to just close for the day, well two days as the building is usually used on Mondays.  Most locals head off out of town and do not return until Tuesday of they can, a wise precaution.

I will sit here in boredom watching football, it passes the time.   

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...   

Conservative Party Policy

3000

As I checked the mail on Blogger I noted at the side the number of posts that I have made on here, some THREE THOUSAND it proclaims.  How many have been worth reading is not mentioned.  I have been scribbling rubbish on here since September 2005, when most of you were not yet born.  You ask what did I say back then as an opening gambit?  I said this for what it is worth, why I did say that I canny remember but there it is in mediocre English and dated 9th September 2005.  How have things changed in Guatamala since then I wonder?  How have I changed here?  Many who once commented here have moved on, got bored, disagreed or died, and I cannot find fault with that.  I have done all those things yet remain so I suspect something is wrong somewhere.  Interestingly 2013 was the busy year with 305 posts, almost one a day.  As I recall I was not busy at the time.  I have not looked up to see what I wrote but it must have been masterly, of course possible the comments flowed from peoples responses, vis their lawyers.

What does it tell you about someone who wastes so much time scrawling when they could be cleaning the sink, painting the bedroom or fixing the holes in the building?  The desperate, indeed arrogant desire to shove my opinions down your throat and make you all change your ways and do things my way, that way being best for all you understand, play a part here, a big part I suggest.  Why else would anyone discuss things with so eager passion and so little understanding or collection of facts?  You will be aware that men in my family have never required facts to be sure that they have a right understanding of any situation.  Why indeed do people want to become journalists and write columns full of their opinions if not to change others outlook.  I write that understanding that much of today's 'journalism' is merely claptrap to gather 'clicks' and increase advertising revenue while objective opinions from two or three sides are difficult if not impossible to find today.  Possibly that is why so many make use of 'social media,' the phrase itself humorous as the use of 'social media' in many cases is very unsociable.  However opinions can be found on the internet, the independent 'news' ones sadly always too far 'left' while he daily media is always too far 'right.'  It appears to me that thoughtful intelligent informed commentators are always individual sites rather than those gathered under one name, and too few of those can I find.

The success of this blog can be noted by the falling numbers of readers and commentators not including the lack of those wishing to donate large sums of money as these have always been rare, although much of this is I think the fault of facebook and Twitter as people now make more use of these money gathering sites rather than spew out lots of their thoughts on a blog.  I wonder, especially after the recent changes here, how long Blogger can continue.  It must exist to make money and gather info for the secret services of the west and pass these on to that nice Mr Putin, so I suspect it will continue for a while.  I may do so also, you lucky people...  

Jerry E. Beuterbaugh Deceased.

Having not heard from my friend Jerry for a while I wondered if he was sick, lacking internet again or dead.  I emailed him at the end of June and he had not replied with one of his rude and funny emails so I sent off another and a couple of days yet another asking what was going on.  No reply.  It was clear I had to find out and via facebook I discovered he had passed away, either through kidney failure or a heart attack, both being likely with state of health, and was suddenly left with a strange empty feeling inside.   
Quite how we began to annoy one another I forget as it goes back a few years but his caustic humour fitted well and rarely did I get one over on him.  His knowledge of Jesus and his equally caustic wife Arlynda gave us many a laugh.  Both of course were far from well, grievous sickness caused both many troubles, though Jerry considered her mother living with them caused more.  When she died a year or two ago he was not cheering but glad of the space given back to him.  Then just over a year ago his wife who had been ailing for a long time passed away.  This was followed by the aged dogs in the house also giving up life and only two impersonal cats appeared to be left to keep the man company by the end.  It appears they needed him to feed them!  
In past time Jerry had an adventurous life, I think we can say this, married more than once, travelling across the States driving large trucks while full of drink or drugs, and family problems all around.  It appeared to me that his ME. along with other illness came from those drug taking days catching up with him.  Jesus also caught up with him and while sick enabled him to change his ways and settle down almost into a normal life, though normal for Jerry was different from you and probably.
He believed the good Lord had caused him to write several books, this he did and at least one of then I read, his life story, but as the rest were fictionalised I found them hard going as I do all novels. Facts I can deal with, drama I reject.  

'Broken Branches' was the latest.

'Let Your Will Be Done' another.

'In His Own Words' something non fictional. 

It is true to say Jerry was not a great writer but that was not the point, he had something to say and put it over as well as he could.  Jesus would be pleased with his efforts and bless all those who would read them and see what was being said.

Jerry has done his time.  He had a long and 'interesting' life, now he resides with the one who died for him, cleansed him from all sin and welcomed him into the abundant life that never ends.  
For Jerry and Arlynda I am glad, for myself I will miss him, his wise words and his many arguments and rebukes, his humour and friendship also has now gone.  Enjoy your new friends Jerry!
 

First Day...

Yesterday saw many Scottish schools reopen after the holidays.  These usually begin the first week in July unlike the English holidays, possibly so the Scots don't have to mix with the lager louts while away.  Yesterday many a child was dressed in new school uniform, or occasional hand me downs, and frog marched cheerily to the school.  Photographs of clean smart kids appear on social media but non reflect the terror many felt being shoved into a room full of brats and abandoned by parents.  My first day was many years ago when we got two buses to the school, my mother and sister and for some reason a woman neighbour also, forced me into a class of about 40 children and threatened to leave.  I was not having this and made it clear by attempting to escape several times, I was not the only one.  A ginger lad left more times than I but we were forced to remain and endure a day with a strange woman (who we never saw again as she broke her leg next day) and all these little horrors. Looking back it appears many were happy enough to remain, possibly they were alongside friends from the local area, possibly the richer ones (this was a very egalitarian area) had been at some sort of Kindergarten, I know not but I was not happy.

Indeed in spite of my sister being there, she was three years ahead of me, I remained unhappy until the day I left.  Then of course I 'progressed' to a secondary school which was much, much worse!  But enough of that.  In those days girls and boys were rightly kept separate and non of this gender fluidity nonsense was allowed, this does not mean it did not exist but certainly not in primary school, what went on in the houses round about we never knew, indeed at that age no child cares.
While I was educated to some degree, report cards full of "Could do better," and "Take him away," flowed over the years, football was developed in the playground, this could occur as girls were as I said kept out of the way though they had grass and we had some form of tarmac, and by the time I left after seven long years I had some form of happiness there, this ended with the new school of course.  
How much did I learn at school?  Laziness and a lack of zeal for things I did not care for, yes maths I mean you, prevented me for becoming Prime Minister or indeed anything else, my real education began when Jesus turned up and indicated he was alive and took me out of my trough.  His report card on me I do not wish to read.  Only after this did I come into the real world and learned many things, mostly by mixing with clever people outside of my limited ken.  I still consider mixing early teens with a wide variety of different classes, backgrounds and cultures a more important education than forcing them to pass exams.  From 14 onwards they ought to be in the real world not poring over books.  Mind you I was 14 when I left school, my 15th birthday was the next day, soon I entered the world of work where soon I learned how to run from one job to another before you get fired.  You see, education in the real world.

  

Short Jaunt

Waking before six at this time of year is not a bad thing in my view, unless like me you have had insufficient sleep yet the brain will not close down.  This dumb approach to life left me spotting this picture first thing and attempting to reproduce the yellowness of the early morning sun, quite something today.  Within a few minutes I was on the bike and racing slowly towards the old railway in an attempt to enjoy cycling when its quiet.

Fifteen minutes later and the cloud was beginning to blot out the sun, typical.  Instead I pondered over the farmer who has sown wheat here and is half way through harvesting the crop.  He has been desperate to sell to a local money grabbing developer for years and once again has put in a bid to erect around 500 houses.  This would fill the space between town and village causing much upset and ruining the old railway as a glimpse of country much loved and required by folks like me.  
Who can blame a farmer for wanting out?  Once Bexit comes and the promises of Brexiteers are seen as hollow regarding the cash farmers would receive, fishermen have just began t understand that also, then food production will be unprofitable and Farmer Jones's all over the shop will be unhappy.  However a strenuous effort by people with talent has opposed this move once again and it may well be that they will succeed in stopping this development.  Several others are ongoing all around this area, the Tories are keen to build on 'green land' as their friends the developers are cashing in and they get something out of it, those with expensive homes get bills and debt while we all lose a green lung.    

Farmer Jones has got the huff once again and forced the Rangers to erect fences ensuring the public do not take their dogs onto his land, something they have been doing to his fallow fields for years.  Behind this one he has also chopped trees and attempted vainly to block the long established path and ensure he is continued to be loved by local residents.  Further up the road a similar large plot was threatened with housebuilding and someone bought the fields and turned them into a decent nature reserve, well it will be in a few years when grown.  That would cost a great deal here however as the area is quite extensive.  

 
How nice to see the bike out in the country again.  Not that I went far, just far enough to wake me up, and then return to do the ironing and have a jolly day with that....any woman willing to lend a hand?

New People

It's that time again, the time when new people are moving in.  All morning there were bumps and bangs next door as I thought a furniture van was at work, instead it was merely women scrubbing, hoovering and cleaning the quite clean flat.  I failed to spot any of them so have as yet no idea who is moving in however a black woman arrived later for a look around, maybe it is for she?  Maybe she with the big car, parked next door cheekily, is the new tenant.  If she can afford the car what is she doing here I ask?  The problem is we have no idea what new folks will be like, noisy, quiet, young or old, and we don't want any happy young folks in here I can tell you, all that joy and life, it would be out of place.  Another misery who ignores everyone unless he has too that is what we desire.  I am sure we will know more soon enough.

There has been an envelope lying there helplessly for a day or two addressed to someone unknown.  I now everyone here yet this name is new.  It clearly was ignored by the herd of elephants cleaning next door (can I call them 'scrubbers?') and suddenly I realised the flat round the back might have a new tenant as a new car (Mercedes) lies outside (where do folks get the money and yet move here?) So as I popped out I popped round and knocked on door.  Venetian blinds closed, a sign regarding witches hangs in window and slowly the door opens slightly to reveal a darkened room where a darkened face with darkened make up failed to shine within.  I explained my mission  and found I had reached the target, or as least the targets 'partner.'  I explained why the mail came to wrong address and promised to shove it in the letterbox.  The 'Goth' for that is what it might be, accepted gleefully (is gleefully the right word?) and closed door in fear of the light.  I hastened back to my door, collected packet, obtained a cross and a piece of '2 x 4' just in case, ventured forth and posted item as promised.  As I moved away at speed a cry of 'Thank you" could be heard but I waited not and ran all the way to Tesco.

Neighbours are OK in many places however the new ones often take some time to break in.  If this black woman is moving in does she have money?  Is she honest?  Is it one of those scams where they use the flat as an address?  Or worse is she part of one of the black churches that have sprung up here?  One can never tell until they move in and start partying or getting visits from the constabulary.  No doubt now that I have been neurotic about her she will be lovely even if she is female...