Angela, Boris, Donald, Radio 4

There is no doubt that Angela Merkel is by far the best politician in Europe.  Having run Germany for 14 years, having come from a poor background and yet established herself solidly at the top and having no obvious competitors she is a woman in which there is much to admire. 
Here we see her greet Boris Johnson with all the pomp of state to make him feel important, he would love that.  A banquet at night, deep discussions on many topics and after he has got back to his bedroom he realises she has him over a barrel. 
Quietly she has offered him a chance to discuss Brexit and No Deal provided he can come up with an answer to the Backstop.  Of course she, and he, knows he has no answer, there is no answer, and while dressed in all the panoply of government he is in fact a King with no clothes.
She has him round her little finger.
Today Boris meets the French president, one who is clearly annoyed with Brexit and has no wish to continue the needless fuss.  I wonder what blundering nonsense he will offer when he returns from that meeting?

Now, what is to be said here?  Donald Trump has claimed God has put him there to fight China.  He accepts a tweet that claims he is 'King of Israel,' and appears at last to have clearly gone of his head.
Or at least is no longer afraid of being open about his instability.
I think Jesus is quite bemused by this.
Add to this his huff when he wished to 'Buy Greenland,' and found himself rebuffed, even though Greenland was not for sale and no proper bid made.  Being rebuffed and ridiculed he has refused to follow through on a state visit to Denmark and gone of into the White House to be comforted by what remains of his loyal staff (his daughter).
Such a noble nation the USA but so democratic it can do nothing about this three year old sitting in the White House!
What next?

She was at it again, the reader speaking in that 'slit my wrists' voice, yesterday I found myself agreeing with her moaning.  She referred to airports and the way in which those employed treat passengers passing in front of them especially if they are black, weak or unimportant.  In my rare occasions of airport travel I have found staff often rude and unhelpful.
I must say that anyone who faces the public all day, often with stressful situations around them, there is reason to become pig ignorant of the masses passing by, often more pig ignorant than the

staff can ever be.  Her point was good and it was developed well, even if I was sucking in Valium by the bottle at the end. 

Today the wrist cutter was once again bemoaning home.  Her home was part of her, the family abused it damaging her.  Deep inside her home, well her London flat, was part of her.  In a way she is right but it appears the author looks so deep into everything I fear she may have Donald Trump style problems ahead.  The home reflects you indeed, what that says about me I do not intend to reveal, but must the author be neurotic about everything?  

There is still no evidence of the 'witty' part as yet.   I might have missed that while putting my head in the bath for ten minutes.

Coventary & Mudlarking

Radio 4

Every morning at 9:45 Radio 4 offers a 'Book of the Week.'  Usually it is some women's book, often concerning how hard their lives are, while occasionally something interesting drops by.  I thought this week the book sounded quite good at first sight, 'Coventry,' a book by Rachel Cusk, the Radio schedule tells us the book is a 'new collection of witty and clear sighted essays.'  I looked forward to something other than the usual.  Having heard the first, read by an Amelia Bullmore, a woman who's voice indicates she is on the verge of suicide, and cogitated on the fifteen minutes of grumbling about other people's driving habits I found myself not over happy with the results.  Her driving, mostly around narrow roads near the sea appeared hindered by slow drivers, tourists gazing at the view, people wondering where the next turning was and then she ventured onto the motorway somewhat reluctantly.  Her moaning continued, everybody was at fault, and I was wondering if possibly she herself could be a problem on the road.  Other people getting in the way are indeed a nuisance.  The 'wtty' bit was lacking and her 'clear sight' blocked by 40 ton lorries I think.
This morning I gave her another chance, however the second programme is one in which she labours on about how her parents kept 'sending her to Coventry,' something she claims they have done all her life.  Fifteen minutes with none of the 'witty or clear sighted' writing hove into view.  Depression, desolation, gloom and wrist slashing while throwing oneself of a railway bridge certainly did however.  Is it part of the female psyche to consider such things witty I ask?  A combination of the tale of woe with a melancholic reader do not in my mind result in 'witty and clear sighted' essays.  There are three more programmes like this and by Friday I expect the Samaritans will be calling out for more volunteers to answer the phones!
Last weeks book, 'Mudlarking,' by Lara Maiklem was similarly spoiled by her revealing her personality all the way through and then reading her own book with an unsuitable voice.  The actions of the 'Mudlarks' are often very interesting in themselves but their broken lives are revealed all to easily in five 15 minute programmes.
I spent a very relaxing day after this downloading lots of 'Podcasts' from the BBC.  Thanks to 'BBC Sounds' replacing the 'BBC iPlayer' it took long enough to find 'Podcasts' but find it I did.  I then wandered about therein seeking items that have been heard before, many I had not known existed and others that will require listening to soon.  I will put them in the 'Brexit hoard' as after then there will be a shortage of programmes as the only thing to be heard will be wailing and gnashing of teeth! 

Painting with Cassette Tapes

Due to the weekend and an unfortunate bout of laziness I have only just finished painting the window frames I began last week.  Today, in spite of the howling wind coming through the gap in the window, I managed to get the job done while listening to an old tape from Radio 4, Siegfried Sassoon's 'Memories of an Infantry Officer,' a fictionalised account of his war.  I realised when this had stopped and all I had to listen to was the voices in my head, thoughts from here and there, good and bad, going nowhere, which explained builders who turn on 'Radio 1' loudly, even though they are far from that age group, just to have something lively in the background.  I'm reminded by this of a cartoon on a building site from long ago where one young man with a perplexed expression is looking for his transistor radio.  Smirking brickies carrying on regardless in the foreground appear to have mistaken this radio for a brick, it now takes its place in the wall.  
I can understand his mates also!
The main problem with finishing the window frames is that it leaves the need to now finish the other rooms also.  This is more difficult.  This means moving things, hoovering behind items unmoved since yon time, dusting, washing, then preparing.  Somehow the enthusiasm appears to have disappeared.  Enthusiasm is not encouraged when looking at the other jobs undone, half done or just waiting to be done.  
I er, think I need to listen to the wireless and cogitate to work up enthusiasm again...

 

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!

Historical Music for my Family

Life has been so trying recently.
The painting, the repairs, the weather, the knees aching, all have been irking me.
So for two days I did nothing.
This has not helped in any way but I am enjoying it anyway.
Actually I did catch up on family research.  An American, one of the more sensible ones, contacted me regarding an email from 8 years ago. 
He moves at my speed.
Looking into my records I realised they were in a mess and have had to go through what little I have found and put it into some order.  This has been effective as Robert had disappeared and I could not find any details about him.  However I now know he died in 1898 and have sent off for the birth certificate (£24) to discover why he died at 24.  It was rumoured he took poison and this is likely.  His mother (my grandfathers first wife) ended up in a lunatic asylum, this guy apparently died by suicide and by the time she was 13 a sister of his was living in Whitley Bay with an aunt. 
Something was not right in the house.
No wonder granddad took to drink!
The girl in Whitley Bay eventually married well, her sister in Edinburgh did also.  Both died early from disease I think and the Edinburgh one was replaced by the elder sister.  Keep it in the family I say.
One brother joined the Royal Navy and so some service during the Great War, not much I reckon.  Another had moved to Canada just in time to enlist in 1915 and do the decent thing and get shot at Ypres in 1916.  Now I need to know why Robert died! 
Robert is a problem name as almost everyone with our surname made use of it, from father to son and on, brother, cousin, uncle all of them had Robert somewhere and there were many with that name in the borders!  There are many false leads to chase here. However that took up much of my time and didn't involve walking anywhere.  Today I have completed that part of the task and now need to check those one step backward, being 'backward' was an accusation often offered to my family, notably myself for some reason.

Tone Deaf

Remarkably it is 50 years since the great music festival of Woodstock! 
Quite how those years have passed without me noticing is worrying. 
Sadly we never made it to the USA for the event, we could not get time off and on £8 a week the travelling costs were beyond us.  However we made it to the 'Caley' cinema in Lothian Road for the three hour film off the event which we enjoyed and I still remember of the acts.
Proper music, off its time and representative of a movement that was intended to change the world for the better.  The 'establishment' did not like nor understand it however, it certainly did not suit the neat shirt and tie, short haired US image that so many had foisted on them, and still do in places. But it spoke to the youth of the world and still does.
Of course it was based on a lie.
'Love one another' but it forgot about human nature.  Many of the acts were not loving to one another, human nature was seen all around even if the majority attempted to get along with one another you can bet there were hurt feelings abounding.  Only Jesus can change us and while 'Woodstock' represented a movement of a sort it failed because of our natures.
The music was good, it still is, while today's shallow computer made ballads fronted by women who all look the same does not make any attempt to improve the world in any way.  There was a desire for change, today's music only appears to reflect emptiness or selfishness.  Maybe I am wrong.

Eggs in the Loft!

I have been up in the attic this morning.  
It makes a change from the usual routine.  
There has been strange noises from there for a while, including lots of 'coo-ing' noises which could be irritating if allowed to continue.  So I got out the stepladder and tried to get up there to investigate.  Naturally the thing has only three steps and I could not get far in.  On top of that a redevelopment in the 70's meant that I could not see far enough into the loft as a wall cuts off the view.  So it was time to contact the landlord.  
However, the flat being a bit dingy I thought I had better clean up before the landlord or his man came hence the decorating.  He came today to remove the birds.  So the landlord himself came, spent a while trying to work out the new style stepladder and we then ventured up into the darkness.  Good job he brought a light...
I let him clamber over the confused morass that lay in front of us, just how some of that stuff got up there is a mystery, and on hands and knees, bumping his head on the timbers he managed to force a brick into the gap the birds had used to gain entry.  
I stood at the top of the ladder and helped...
He returned with these four eggs which will now not hatch.  This is quite sad but it is not a good idea to encourage birds up there.  I feel quite guilty about this.  I now do not know what to do with the things!  
When I first came there were several openings in the roof beloved by many types of birdlife.  This included a Swift which screamed in to feed the young and screamed out again.  This was most disconcerting at first.  All those openings have long been fixed and we must await now to ensure they do not return.  
Still, all this activity meant I did not have time to return to painting the other window, instead I passed on a small bag of chocolates for his wife and assistant who I have since discovered thought that was a great idea!  
Bribery is always handy...

The Unthinking!

Guardian

Caroline Lucas MP, looking in this picture the very essence of a Brighton resident, has until now offered some interesting points regarding the Brexit farce.  Today however she revealed that underneath her positive exterior lay the real fault at heart of the 'Green Party,' a failure to understand human nature.

She has demanded as as answer to Brexit a 'unity cabinet' comprising a number of female only MP's, indeed some who are not even members of this parliament.  Putting aside the constitutional legality of such an idea and considering her motivation we are left with head in hands wondering what goes on in the minds of those who read feminist books.  She states, "“Why women? Because I believe women have shown they can bring a different perspective to crises, are able to reach out to those they disagree with and cooperate to find solutions.”  She then offers one or two examples from the past when women have done something helpful.  She apparently did not notice any man ever doing similar.  I wonder why?  

This is the fault at the heart of feminism, it's bollox!

You see feminism is, and always was, based on middle class girlies who have never worked at anything in their lives, mostly American ones at that, telling other lassies that they have had a hard life.  No forgive me if I misunderstood but maybe women in coal mines, woollen mills, selling fish or clothes or any other goods might have noticed they had a hard life, often when confronted by middle class women who treat them like skivvies!  

The second fault is also here, these women do not understand women.

I do, I have worked with them, under them, amongst them and I can tell you it is very much the minority, and not always middle class minority, who know what work is like and how human nature works.  

Wome, in spite of the needless increase of women's football, do not work well in a team.  They tell you they do but this is a lie.  In open plan offices women work in small groups of three or four, ignoring all others, I have seen this so often.  Men, the bad people on the planet, can work in groups, are made this way, and in similar operations work well together.  It has been said and disregarded by feminists, that when at a football match men support 'our team,' women will support 'their baby.'  This sums it up nicely.  No woman will accept this as they try accept the lie that they are the same as men, they are not.  

I could give hundreds of examples, I may write a book about this if I found a publisher who was not too scared to publish.  The lie of 'unisex' has led to gay marriage, trans people, and who knows what to come by ignoring how we are made.  Normal life has been stolen by the Lie and the world has swallowed it.  Men and women are different, are meant to be different, have different ways of viewing the world and are made this way to work together.  Spewing lies and half truths, usually in feminist books all varying from one to another, does not help especially when it comes down to the woman on the Clapham Omnibus through grubby newspapers or colour supplements.  Ask any woman the 10 commandments of feminism and she will not know, she may invent some however.  They do not exist and vary everywhere.

This leads us back to Lucas, she has the idea woman can do what men cannot, bring peace to this nation, forgetting the different outlooks of the women she has called, the different political spectrum,the underlying bitchiness from the previous encounters of some of them!  

The only answer to Brexit is to forget it!  

Certainly we will now have a General election, six weeks I think from the date called, possibly the EU leave date will be put back, certainly a referendum must then be called,  and that way a better understanding of the situation might appear.  This answer would be clearer if the voters failed to vote for the party and voted for the country, that way some of these louts, both male and female will be removed!

 

Leisure Hours...

In between the return of the bug which leaves me lying on the floor wishing I was dead I have moments of action.  The word 'action' may be a bit strong here.  However this week I took it upon myself to finish the Spring cleaning I started about two or three years ago.  This meant examining the wooden sash window frames, which appear original, and that means 1812, to clean them and ensure the window opens properly.  In the end it was easier to make use of Matt white emulsion and just wash them down and paint them.  Old small windows with lots of squarish small panes mean lots of awkward wooden bits to paint while at awkward angles!  The front one is now done, notice I am ignoring the demand to add gloss paint on top, and not only the small kitchen window also but the entire kitchenette walls I finished this morning.
I now ache all over!
Being to sedentary means such an effort, once quite easy, although it is years since I painted the windows last, now it means aches everywhere and a desire to sit and read books.  However I am glad I have got that far, the bedroom window, and indeed the walls require doing nest!  Just wait until I start moving everything...actually we will just do the window for now.  The wall can wait...

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...

Argos Beatles...

I met a friend for coffee this morning, thus avoiding the continuation of last years Spring clean, and walked by the 'Argos' shop and collected a new catalogue of priceless merchandise which I don't want.  
And why are they named after a long forgotten Greek city anyway?
I noticed they retain the cover blurb from before, 'You're Good to Go' and began to ask myself what that is supposed to mean?  The previous one had the word 'WOW' upon it if I remember correctly, and 'wow' was found on most pages leaving me asking if anyone in this cynical nation was impressed by this?  Marketing people do not in my understanding live in the real world, yet earn vast sums of cash for such as this!   Long years ago a friend earned £40,000 a year, his main work was designing an advert for a 'Findus' fish product which may or may not still exist, I doubt it does, as from what I recall there was not much to it.  He also had his own Audi from the company.  I was not jealous even though in those days I could not get a bus pass.  I did not go out of my way to buy his product however...

Standard

It appears the Beatles still produce a reaction these days.  50 years after they crossed the road in what I thought then, and still think now, was a rather poor cover photo people have rushed to commemorate that picture.  
Now not only did I work just up the road in what was then a somewhat run down hospital passing this corner day after day.  At that time we worked Monday to Saturday early shift, then Sunday to Friday late shift, we then got a weekend off.  How the rich lived!  
Even then, 1980-81, the 'Abbey Road' street sign was covered in scribbles from little girls informing Paul or whoever of their thoughts.  He was of course not there.  He did have a house not far from here, a nuisance to his neighbours, while he himself sat around in New York or Scotland avoiding the fans and counting his money.
Not long after leaving the hospital I was delivering in this area, 1983 on I think, and three times a week we would visit Abbey Road, knock down one or two foreigners crossing the road while being photographed and receiving instructions from the driver on how to behave.  Today would have led to mass murder US style had we been there.  Actually I have just thought it would not, we did Arsenal and that area on Thursdays, lucky for them!