Irked

I am not one for noise. For years I have suffered noisy neighbours, sometimes they were just going about their business and sometimes it was 'Boom Boom Boom' type music. I have been grateful these last few years that those days were over, indeed it is usually very quiet here. Imagine therefore my surprise this morning when I open a letter from the council regarding a music noise complaint. Imagine my stunned expression (on the other hand maybe not) when I realised someone had complained about me! ME? Who, what why where??????? 'Music noise complaint?' Radio 3 tinkles in the background most days with occasional 'Gold Radio' playing music from the Neolithic days of my youth so how come a complaint? I admit to playing some music occasionally loudly - about once every three or four months and then only a couple of tracks. It gets too loud for me after that! However nobody knocked to complain. No knock on the door.
Now only two people can hear my music, one next door and the man downstairs. Yet none have mentioned anything. It must be the quiet chap downstairs, the one who works nights. So I wonder why not knock on the door? Why not say something? I was puzzled to begin with and now I find myself annoyed!
After suffering the years of noise in the past I am always conscious of the noise reaching other flats, especially when I had six straight months of hassle here some time ago. Yet in spite of my care he complains. I am irked, irked I tell you! I should add he is very quiet. For the first couple of months he was here I used to lie on the floor and listen - just to see if he was alive! There was no sound! Usually there is a radio/TV or something, but no, nothing! Does he just sit there staring into space? Is he a plant for some alien world seeking to make a home here? Could he be contacting Russia because he is a spy lying low?
I will of course be my usual 'loving' self. I will continue to take great care re noise, but I am still irked. ME, making too much noise!Ridiculous! I am now officially irked.

It's a Funny Old World

With the UK approaching two million unemployed and a worldwide recession hitting home so hard that even the Japanese are laying of their loyal workers, I begin to wonder what we are going to do? The 'Mini' factory in Oxford has laid of hundreds of workers and BMW get the blame.This German car company is feeling the pinch and needs to tighten its belt. One suggestion made was to lower the price of their expensive cars and therefore sell more. This was rejected! Some companies near here have been offering a 'Two for one deal!' Buy a 'Transit Van' and get a smaller van free! Buy a 'Ford Mondeo' and get a 'Ford Ka' free! Amazing deals to move the cars off the forecourt and keep business turning over. Not the sort of thing a prestigious company like BMW would accept. The prestige of the car and the concerns of the shareholders mean folk loose their jobs. Strange priorities. The nation in general is holding on to its cash of course. Prices are falling and waiting for bargains is the watchword. I hope when the price reaches its lowest level these folks still have a job to pay for any bargain that arrives. Not increasing debt makes sense, but waiting too long for a cheaper price can reflect an attitude of avarice, not wisdom.

Wandering through the market today while gleaning fallen fruit and veg I was struck by how wealthy this struggling nation actually is. People still appear more worried about weight problems rather than starvation, the well clothed will no doubt go home to their 'Sky TV' packages complain about the price and order another DVD from the Video shop. All around the sky is falling in yet we do not appear to notice this - yet! Of course during Thatcher recessions we also found many getting rich, mostly in the south east. This time while they grab what is available I am not so sure they will get away with this today. Even the financial wizards will be more circumspect when they cherry pick the best. Especially as the big guns are being caught out almost every day. I wonder who is next?

Looking for work I am amazed at others occupations and how they make money out of the sad and bewildered. Do we need a 'Life Coach' for instance? It appeals doesn't it, listen to them and they will tell you how to live. I wonder? Is this not what parents were intended for? Family and friends perhaps? What if the 'Life Coach' is a bit of a mental case herself? And they mostly appear to be women aiming at women. The question then is why are women so confused and indeed desperate for coaching? We all need advice ('Emigrate' it says on the window of the Citizens Advice Bureau) but I wonder about these folk.

How about 'Aromatherapy?' Would inhaling nice smells change your world? certainly it makes the place smell nice and is no new idea. In medieval times flowers were strewn on church floors so they were crushed by those walking over them. The idea was to hide the odour of the flock who rarely washed no matter what class they came from! I would suggest a sweet fragrance encourages a happier atmosphere but how do people make money out of this? Therapies? What regulation is there on these folk that wish to 'Balance your system?' Does that mean they will fix the stereo as well as make me relax I wonder? It seems to me all around folk are confused and looking for a life that brings happiness and fixes all their problems. No wonder those 'wild west' films so often had quack doctors offering their potions there is indeed 'a sucker born every minute.' Of course some say this is where Coca Cola came from, that small chemist developing a drink to cure all sorts of problems and selling it on for a small fortune. Those who developed it sold it for a big fortune of course!

Strange folk exist at the highest levels. In spite of Alexander the Greta struggling to win in Afghanistan, the British failing in the 19th century and the Russians in the 1980's here we are losing men daily in a vain fight against the Taliban there. The US President has now decided to follow the military will and engage in a 'surge' there. I see he is making it clear he does this unwillingly so when it fails he can avoid blame. Wise man! Some 17,000 US troops are on the way in what must be the last push against their foe. If this fails and the allies (Yes we are their also, along with many others) lose we must leave. Staying would only leave us like the Russians, defeated and despairing! You cannot win in Afghanistan! Bush and his cronies have a lot to answer for. Thousands dead, indeed thousands of his own men dead, all for oil and a revenge on Al Queda! Or so they say. I sometimes wonder what Bush really thought he was doing. Did he actually believe Iraq needed dealt with? Did he not realise what would happen? If he did he was more incompetent than we thought. However politics is a dirty game and much more lies beneath the surface of that one.

That excellent American historian Barbra Tuchman wrote 'The March of Folly,' in which she took four wars and points out how they began by misunderstanding the facts, the opposition and went on to lead to many deaths. Such a shame so many leaders have never read the book.

It's Just Not Cricket!

Now cricket is one of those strange English games that mean little to anyone with half a brain. Naturally it appeals to the average Englishman. We Scots have of course played this game to some effect but it has never got into the national psyche as it has the English and some other parts of the Empire (God bless the king!). In Scotland we would never stand outside a TV shop window watching cricket in the way we would look for the football results. In 1969 however when wandering through the City of London I came upon a surprising scene. Just outside the Leadenhall market there was a crowd of about thirty or more standing looking at an office window. There were so many people that while some stood in the gutter of a very busy road a policeman was on guard to ensure a passageway through the crowd was kept clear for folk to pass by! This was lunchtime in the city, a very crowded place, and here were people standing watching this window because someone had placed a TV there showing a cricket match! The England side were playing a 'test Match' against some visiting side and the English risked their lives to watch it! This would never have happened in Edinburgh! I was genuinely shocked! So why am I insulting your limited intelligence with this subject. Could it be something in the way our sins will be found out?

You see cricket has been played for many years in two simple forms. In one, often boring to the uneducated form, it lasts for up to five days, weather permitting of course. The other, a more recent invention, comprises a short 'one day' game, the kind played by many clubs throughout England every weekend. Folks got along quite happily for years with this, and for the most part there were little complaints. There were often complaints from me when men went on (and on) about the result of such encounters. Just how the game gets under their skin I have no idea, but I knew when it was getting under mine! During the days of the 'Raj' the Indian sub continent took up the game and today it has become the most important sport in that part of the world. The top stars have 'pop star' adulation at home and acclaim world wide. While the crowds at an English game were for the most part somewhat reserved in Asia they were far from this! Huge crowds, high temperatures, hard pitches and deafening noise accompanies the games. Losing is a sin, and victory is all important. The beer carrying Englishman wobbling down the stairs with a tray full of pints, often dressed in funny clothes for reasons I do not understand, gently supports his side, yelling the occasional funny remark - he thinks - and applauding the good play when it arrives. In the warmth of the southern hemisphere the noise never abates, the crowds screaming their support and informing the opposition of their opinion at all times, sometimes helpfully with stones! A 'Test Match' in any such city brings the whole place to a halt no matter what!

A change occurred in recent days, possibly to gain money from the TV companies, maybe just to try out a new innovation. This was called 20/20 Cricket. The game would be played in the evening, under floodlights and consisted of a mere 20 overs (Google it!) a side. This produced a fast action packed game far removed from the rather staid five day encounter. The crowds loved it! Quickly this has become a regular part of the cricket world, so much so that an American (isn't it always?) decided he could cash in - sorry, help develop the game further. This man, Sir Allen Stanford, (How come a Yank is a 'Sir?') his pockets bulging with cash decided on a televised tournament of 20/20 Cricket with huge financial rewards for the players involved. Normally these men make comparatively little cash in comparison with football players, and while in India they became wealthy the temptation to finance beyond their wildest dreams took hold with many of the top players. Several of the best from England joined the Australians, West Indians, and those from all the Indian sub continent and accepted the invitation to play in the new series. Money talked, and it is reported it affected the players so badly that at one point some had spent two hours discussing how to just celebrate receiving the cash! "The love of money is the root of all evil," the man said, you can add 'All that glistens is not gold!'

Tonight, in the midst of the 'credit crunch,' with financial fraud appearing in several places it has been announced that the company owned by Stanford has been charged with fraud! The small matter of $8 billion worth of fraud! Throughout the cricket world men are now sitting with broken dreams. The future that looked so good has ended. The trust we all put in cash has failed them, just as it has failed the world economy. "Man does not live by bread alone!" Now we all would like a million from a game or two of cricket and money is not wrong in itself, however the raised hopes, the jobs for the 'small people' lost around these tournaments, and the heartache that will follow is indeed cruel to ponder. Something ironic in all this in my view. Maybe living in my poverty and still being happy is better than watching the pot of gold slip out of the hands - just as the ball usually slips out of the English players hands!

Independent

New York Times

A Drive in the Country

Because I gave him the test date my driving instructor decided to find a variety of roads to wander over today. It was brilliant sunshine for a while and this brought out the motorist. All the roads were busy and we kept getting held up by learner drivers still thirty hours behind me according to how slow they were taking the bends. And bends there were! While the US and some other countries makes long straight roads, the UK has miles of bendy twisted roads that have evolved over eons. Quite how the A1071 from Sudbury to Ipswich twisted so much we pondered today but could not work it out. When the Romans arrived the strengthened the roads and ensured they travelled in a straight line from start to finish, 'Stane Street' is one such and lies outside my window. These roads were already ancient tracks by that time however why did our road take so many turns? Ancient forest covered this land for thousands of years and in the last thousand kings used the area for hunting and for much of that time the trees remained untouched. Having your head lopped of stopped some folks from knocking them down. Small local tracks in areas where people should not have been living may have been interconnected over time and now give us a busy road full of lorries, vans and learner drivers. The added bonus of two dirty big agricultural vehicles blocking the road helped cheer those behind me as they fumed at my habit of sticking to the speed limit!
Even his devious plan of returning along the A12 did not put me off, although the police car that ran along beside me was unhelpful I thought. I noticed that my hand were somewhat sweaty as I grasped the wheel doing 80 as we overtook the lumbering lorries. I was reminded that 70 is the limit once or twice... A good day, apart from stalling three times, almost running into someone at a crossing and failing to find the gears once or twice - in the fast lane! I wonder if I should go on with this....

Several Things Niggle

A 13 year old boy has become a father with the aid of a 15 year old girl. In itself this is not unusual, it happens too often in the UK and elsewhere in this world, and does not mean disaster for the three of them. However the accompanying press coverage is more likely to mean disaster! While the Independent gave us an intelligent article on this the media in general are determined to milk this, as indeed are the grandparents, for all this is worth. In my view the children ought never to have been named yet not only are they on the front of the 'Sun' a video of them has been released. Time such abuse of daft kids was stopped, whether the relatives agree or not! Their names ought never to have been released. I just hope they can survive.


Ah nothing like a picture of dead bodies somewhere in Africa to make us turn off! Yet another war, more corrupt leaders, more aid, more men in suits talking and nothing being done, and all too soon it is all forgotten.
This picture shows the dead from the conflict in Darfur. You remember this? It was all the rage a while ago yet it still continues, rape, murder, shootings,bombings from the air, denials and lies. Just another war somewhere in Africa. The trouble in the Democratic Congo also continues and is under reported in the UK, unless people from there want to become immigrants, illegal or otherwise in this country of course. I just thought I would remind you that no matter how hard our lives are, at least we still have them, and most of us are free from the fears these folk endure, and will endure for some time to come!

However in spite of this, when watching the 'African Nations Football' last year I was impressed with Africa. In the early 19th century most folk only knew of the outskirts of the continent, if that is they knew anything about Africa! At the end of the century the middle of 'Darkest Africa' was being changed by a wide variety of colonial rulers. These brought many benefits, much conflict and usually regarded the locals as mere savages. However when watching the football I was impressed by how many players now earn thousands of pounds a week in Europe? In the 70's such players were laughed at as coming from 'third world football nations.' Not now! Growing up in Edinburgh we were always conscious of students at the universities from Africa and elsewhere. In recent years I have met brain surgeons from the Sudan and Ghana, Nigerians who study 'advanced mathematics,' for reasons no sane person could understand, and there are many politicians and businessmen at all levels who make this world a better place. Sure the leaders are often still far too corrupt, (unlike the bankers who run our economy) although there may be some improvement there, sure there are huge difficulties, many caused by abuses during the 'Cold War.' Sure there is famine and aids and other problems. However Africa has progressed in leaps and bounds during the last two hundred years to head for the level that the UK and Europe required over two thousand years to reach! There is much to appreciate and applaud in this continent in spite of the problems.

I came across this...

But I cannot remember where!
This annoys me as I think I would like to go
into business selling this type of thing.
There is a sucker born every minute they tell me.....

Valentines Day

I have stopped bothering about this these days.

I've had this attitude ever since I buried the bitch in the back garden.....

Friday Night

For most folk the week has ended, their hair has been 'let down,' entertainment found, or feet up on the couch and the nasty world told to 'shove off' from the door is the order of the day. This means bloggers searching for intellectual stimulation are left bereft as those who blog in such a fashion are at this very moment in time knocking back bucketfulls of cheap Chardonnay or filling their insides with the UK's favourite meal - curry! Friday night is therefore slow for the dregs of society who sit staring at a dark blank screen. The reason the screen is dark is that it has been switched off, habit however means blogperson sits and stares anyway - just in case.

Several things strike me here.

1) The importance blogs have in our lives. All around are shiny things to keep us amused. Television programmes on several channels churning out 'pap' of the lowest, mind sapping order, radio stations giving similar talk programmes debating with all the intellectual charm of a 'taxi driver' and a 'white van man,' the topic of the day, as well as a mountain of brainless women's magazines and so called newspapers to dull our sense of reality. Technology allows us to listen to programmes we have missed, allow us to play, repeatedly, the music that so annoys those around us,telephones where we can type in the words slowly rather than speak into the thing quickly and contact friends,and 'X-Boxes (whatever they are) where what is left of the gray matter can be dissolved by virtual gun play against aliens or bad boys. In spite of this we look for a blog to read. Does this mean we are getting old and can no longer care about games, or does it imply we need stimulation and the offerings of banality do not provide this? I find blogs of a wide variety and from a cross section of life do bring a new world to our door, but rarely on a Friday night!

c2) The rituals of drink. How come we are created with a mental capacity the size of a planet, (Pluto in the case of some nameless types from Arkansas), but find relief at the end of the week by drowning this great complicated machine in alcohol? Some indeed kill it off with various drugs, however this seems extreme to my little mind. With the known dangers of too much of the first and the unknown dangers (in spite of all the research) still of the second it would be thought a bit of wisdom could be applied here and a better way to recreate the washed out life could be discovered. Strange folks us people!

3)3) I read a man today informing all who would listen that when he is 60 he will leave the country. In his case several offered to help him go now but he declined their generosity. He wishes to find the sunshine and a cheaper lifestyle. He also wants out of a nation full of foreign Johnnies! So to avoid them he will go abroad! Spain,Cyprus, or somewhere in France, anywhere he can buy cheap beer, 'Fish & Chips' and the 'Daily Mail!'
Others of course have got used to the good things brought in from abroad and the Indian food craze has taken hold so well that 'curry,' or whatever is sold under that name, is now Britains national dish! However this is not without some hiccups,the UK love of this food and ignorance of its origin is shown in the curry dish called 'Balti.' Nowadays 'Balti' takeaways and restaurants are found nationwide but it was years before we realised the word 'Balti' meant 'Bucket!' The invention of a takeaway owner in Sheffield if I remember correctly! What a dumb nation we are! I doubt 'Balti' will never catch on in the Indian sub continent.

Now I'm not one to Complain but!

It will look like this again tomorrow! The nice wee weather lass told us the 'Low' was moving into the Continent as a 'High' was approaching and shoving it that way. This would improve things she said. Now, somewhat foolishly, I always believe what pretty girls tell me, an attitude that experience has failed to change, and the prospect of what another called a clear sunny day tomorrow (but cold) was what I was looking forward to. Tonight I look out and it is white everywhere! The gritters have only just started and they will concentrate on the major roads, leaving ours till later, and ignoring the side roads altogether. So once again the world will come to a halt as it did last week. Then this week the floods that followed will be repeated in a few days when this lot thaws! On top of this it is cold! In fact I feel the cold more this year than ever, am I getting old or what?

I tell you, if anyone comes on telly complaining about 'Global Warming' I am going to give them some thing warming to keep them happy for a while and no mistake!


I have been reading in Josephus again, and we have just seen the death of Herod the Great! Most interesting I think. Known to the world only through the killing of a few kids in Bethlehem but in fact a powerful ruler in his day. Cruel, barbaric and in the end probably sick, paranoid and no loss to the world when he died. A story repeated many times through history. Just think of Stalin or Mao or even Mugabe today! Anyway this picture comes from the National Geographic site and shows what they say is Herod's tomb at Herodium.

The Best Cook

Discuss.

Theory Test

That's Driving 'Theory Test' I should explain, not a test looking for a theory. I have a few of those and some of them pretty strange I can tell you and once I had joined the blog world I came across a great many more strange theories I can tell you!!!!! However the thing is I have to pass the 'theory' bit before I can take the 'practical' part and prove I am safe to drive alone on the road. (Stop sniggering at the back!) I passed with (almost) flying colours and will book the practical test tomorrow. Hopefully this will be soon and then you lot out there can start worrying!

The fields being saturated for some weeks meant that the melting snow has once again flooded the county. When I came here I read that this was the driest county in England, not today! The many dips in the country roads meant that many flooded as the water came of the fields or overflowed river banks. Those of you near rivers and streams will now what this is like. On top of this many new houses have been built on flood plains! How daft is that? It is difficult to control a river when it floods and some folks are watching the results of this tonight. The town centre where I took the test has a river running through it and here it is almost up to the bridge. Further down it has broken the banks and I watched the ducks despair at any chance of lunch today! Even they would not risk the fast flowing water. One of my pretty young girl friends took 25 minutes to drive 400 yards she said and completed the journey in one and a quarter hours! It would take about 30 usually.


As the train trudged slowly along it struck me that I would need to work for another seven and a half years before I get the pension and can officially retire - if I can actually get a bloody job first of course! However a horrid thought crept up on me - I was thinking about pensions! Where has life gone? I have done nothing but fail and make a mess of things and already life is over! Jings!
Excuse me while I lie on the floor and despair.....

Time

Where did it go? Last time I looked it was Friday and I had just had a driving lesson, was on my knees giving thanks for survival, something I know the instructor was doing as soon as he got home, and awaiting a trip to the soup kitchen. Suddenly I have had a weekend, another drive through the wet roads, a rough time at the roundabouts and that kerb which lunged at me, and suddenly here I am getting ready for tomorrows 'Theory Test,' which I have decided I know too little about! I have realised how little I know and those are the questions they will ask. Ho hum!
Nothing has been done as my mind has been filled with other things, God, driving, a magazine and Josephus 'Antiquities' mostly. Now I am brain dead. Not that anyone would see any change I suppose.

Now where is that 'Highway Code' book......?

Thursday Gum Bumping

The meeting with the pretty girl at the Job Centre went all right I suppose. I was a bit depressed when I woke this morning, nothing seems to be right, but the pretty lass took a hand and shook me out off it. She took two hands actually, both to shake me, and then the back of just one to encourage me to be more satisfied with life. She referred to this as the 'woman's touch,' although 'touch' is a somewhat genteel way to a slap that hard. I told her that next week I have the 'Theory test' and I discovered happily that this organisation will pay the £30 fee! I asked if they would pay for the two coffees I required and was told to "Sod Off!" This, remember, is a member of the 'weaker sex.' The idea of all this driving tuition being that this enables me to get work. Whether this will or not I do not know but it appears to be the only option open to me at the moment. Bad knees, age, and an aptitude for gormlessness do not a success make! Still I search on and something will come up somewhere. I wonder what? The credit crunch does not help. Hundreds are losing their jobs and for some this is a new experience. A wealthy society, and this has been one of the richest for many years, produces generations unused to doing without. What some believe to be necessities are in fact luxuries. yet doing without them will cause heartache and much pain for many. I feel bad about their pain, it may however be good in the long run. Our parents suffered the Great War, then the depression, huge social change and another war with even greater change social to follow. Many of them deserved to end with a happy home, warm, fed, with the mod cons they never heard of when young, and with a decent health service. This generation has never done without, except in extreme cases. Most will cope but for a great number the next few years, note I said 'years,' will be intolerable.

I had to return in the afternoon to sign on, not through the young lady, she had dismissed me as she was bored with my company, but I saw my friend the French woman. So I signed on, had a chat, and got thrown out as I was taking to much of her time. Her man is slightly older than me, canny find a job, and she understands the position well. While she is helpful she is well able to give back any lip that arises during the day. I once had to call the security guard to get her to stop handbagging me! She urged me to apply for the 14 vacancies in the dole office caused by the vast increase of workload. This I have already done and if the bosses are as daft as I suspect civil service managers to be, I may end up in work. It will not happen of course but it is worth a try!


On Monday the driving lesson was postponed because of the snow. On Tuesday because of the black ice, tomorrow we will try again. So tonight the smiling weather girl has promised between 2-5 centimetres of snow (whatever a centimetre is?). The other smiling (and well built) weather girl suggests it may reach 10 centimetres. I now discover 2.5 Cm's equals one inch, so it may be 2-4 inches of snow. Up north this would slow things down and cause problems. Down here the world will grind to a halt, questions will again be asked in Parliament ("Why do Russia and Sweden cope but we can't?") and newspaper headlines will scream blue murder and blame the government. In fact, it is 18 years since such snow landed here, and off course we are not ready for it, it rarely happens and will be gone by the weekend. Russia and other places have it for six months, temperatures descend to minus 40, and they are naturally prepared. Those who yell would yell louder if we bought the snowploughs they demand and end up garaged for years. Ah well, if we have nothing to complain about there would be no blogs! Not that I am one to complain of course.


My mother is 94 today! Just imagine that! Had my father lived he would have been 100 years old last March. Jings! She was born during the Great War before the mistake of Gallipolli had begun or the first real Push failed at Loos. Her mining family struggled through six months of the general strike in 1926, the depression which ravished them and the second war which broke out not long after her marriage. (Not our fault they claimed!). With two young children she saw him off to war in 1941 (still before the Yanks had decided to join in) and later brought up her four selfish children. She deserves better. She could reach 100 if we are not careful!

Another Day Another Grumble

This time it is the use of the word 'Golliwog' by Carol Thatcher in a private conversation with Adrian Childs and Jo Brand, so we are told. The word was used in reference to an Australian tennis player. As a result offence has been taken, publicity has been massive, and we are left pondering what really was going on. 'Golliwogs' have of course disappeared from our streets in recent years as white liberals thought black folk would be offended. Few I met ever really noticed them. Robinson Jam used to advertise by using the 'Golly' and the metal badges were prized by kids, and others, up and down the land. This has ceased as the offended bus has overtaking them. Did Thatcher, a woman I have no time for, say something offensive? Or is there more to this than meets the eye? Personally I reckon this was an excuse to remove her from the programme, partly because she is an awful person and partly because of her mother, the mad baroness! Resentment within the BBC regarding Thatchers attitude towards their middle class liberalism remains strong! There can be no doubt many would have resented Carols appearance on such a mainstream programme as 'One.' There can also be no doubt some have been plotting to remove her for a while, Childs one of them maybe? In a sense I am glad she has gone, although I now rarely watch this programme, it has long ago become another 'BBC Breakfast' type, bulimic wee lassies and celebrities selling their novel. Thatcher was not one O would ever want to see on the TV, however if BBC Radio 1 continues to employ the offensive Chris Moyles, and Radio 2 and BBC TV continue with Jonathon Ross then we are right to ask whether this was an offensive word which brought an end to a contract, or just an excuse?

DryIcons

My good friend Mike has been studying Scottish romance recently. He has posted quite a few 'Lonely Hearts' adverts. he does not say however, which are the ones I answered!Here is a sample.

Bitter, disillusioned Dundonian lately rejected by longtime fiancée seeks decent, honest, reliable woman, if such a thing still exists in this cruel world of hatchet-faced bitches. Box /41

Chartered accountant, 42, seeks female for marriage. Duties will include cooking, light cleaning and accompanying me to office social functions. References required. No timewasters. Box 3/45

Bad-tempered, foul-mouthed old b*stard living in a damp cottage in the ar*e end of Orkney seeks attractive 21-year old blonde lady with big chest. Box 40/27

Tuesday Babble

So we put off yesterdays driving lesson because of the snow, and today we decided to miss out because of the black ice. Being wise the lesson has been rearranged for Friday. Now the weather man has warned us about a repeat of the snow Thursday night and Friday morning! Oh Goody!
However the sun did shine today. the sky was blue here, and walking on the pavements was similar to going down the 'Cresta Run!' I canny wait for tomorrow!





This nurse offered to pray for one of her patients, and next thing we know she is in front of a disciplinary hearing, for causing offence! Oh yeah? How can such a simple offer cause offence and require a disciplinary hearing? I get offered double glazing on the phone, can I sue for being offended? How ridiculous this nation has become. However this is typical of the treatment Christians must expect from now on. This type of persecution, for that is what it is, will occur more often as the atheist lobby grow even more powerful. The apparent notion of avoiding offence, usually to homosexuals and ethnic minorities, at first glance appears fair, we ought to treat everyone fairly. However this opens the way for persecution of anyone who holds opinions the political correct decide are right. Christians, who care for folk and therefore object to anything that harms them in Gods eyes, are the main, but not the only, target here. The common sense and common decency that appeared to exist a few years ago has gone. A rush to law, and a claim for 'rights,' which in reality means money, has taken its place.

This nurse does no wrong and is attacked. My nation suffers prejudice daily and no-one objects. It's a funny old world we live in today! 'Daily Mail'



MATT in the Daily Telegraph is one of the most consistent cartoonists around. For many years he has brought a smile out of a variety of situations. Here he comments on 'Total' bringing Italian and Portuguese workers into the UK. This has led to 'wildcat' strikes from those fearful of losing their jobs during the 'Credit Crunch.' For me he is always worth a look!

A Few Inches of Snow.

We were told last week snow was on the way, and they were right. It came down yesterday afternoon and left a good few inches all over the place. Naturally the nation has come to a halt. In fact the problem is that this sort of thing happens in Scotland and the north of England all the time, however last night it fell on the south east, and this means publicity! London came to a halt, as it does, because rarely does snow lie there. I can remember only one or two years when snow covered the city. London is low lying and it takes a bad winter to cause such trouble. Out here we are more used to it, but while life goes on it has been a while since this happened.

The good side is watching young kids, and even more their young dogs, enjoying themselves in the conditions. As I crossed from one park to another there were many dogs chasing around excitedly, greeting their neighbours and enjoying the strange experience of snow! How they don't just freeze their paws of is beyond me? Apart from the difficulty of walking on the pavements on the rutted snow, and the occasional snowball some ned throws at passersby it has been a jolly time for many. Quite a few have stayed of work, feeble folk, however the postman still arrived! Ah yes, this sort of weather makes the postman think of going home, although we had to go out in it when I done that job, and ours today passed me with a smile! I bet he smiled a lot more when he finished!

Within 48 hours it will all have gone and the grumpy nature will arise once more. Scowls, not smiles, will greet folk in the street, and the joy of a day away from work Will be replaced with overtime to make up time! Ah well! I must ask where global warming is? In the 60's and 70's this weather was common, even though I was up north then, and the last 20 years have been mild winters. A natural change or man made? I have no idea, and in truth, I don't care.

Throw Bowl 09

Who cares?

The Lonliness of the Long Distance Goalkeeper!

One of the loneliest posts in football, the goalkeeper in a team on the attack! The game is so far ahead of the man that players on the neighbouring pitch are nearer than his forward line! While on the one hand this speaks volumes for the players on his side, (or maybe the players on the other side perhaps?) it also means he is alone in a green desert. The outfield players, the ones employed to protect the goalkeeper while he wins the game, are in constant touch with one another. The goalkeeper stands alone! This position is the most important, and least respected, of any in the football world. Anybody can run and kick a ball, just look at Hibernian, but only a wise man, with dexterity and courage, strength and wisdom can be a goalkeeper. The position requires him to understand the strengths and weaknesses of both his side and the other. He must be able to withstand the opposition pressure and the incompetence of his defenders, and he must also be the one who stands alone when all around him is falling down. The goalkeeper is the one true hero of our age!

Today of course the wind came from the East. Flecks of snow, ignoring global warming, crossed the pitch at high speed, aiming for the goalies eyes and causing him to keep moving in an attempt to keep his extremities from frostbite. Struggling to keep warm and still concentrating on the progress of the game the goalie runs back and forward, crouching and jumping, all the time conscious of his lonely position. When the enemy fans gather behind his goal and question his parentage, his ability and inform him of their limited opinions regarding his worth, he must retain his equilibrium, his concentration and his temper. No matter the provocation he must keep control, his position is worth more than any other and his behaviour sets the standard for them all.

the respect he deserves Naturally if he makes a mistake he becomes the villain! No matter the faults in the defence, no matter the quality of the opposition, no matter the reason unjustified attacks take place on any goalkeeper who fails in his duty. A friend, I do have them, once played against a Royal Navy side at Rosyth and winning by seven goals to nil. After getting changed they made their way to the bus and saw the goalkeeper, with full pack (of around 80 pounds) plus rifle, jogging around the pitch! No matter who was at fault he gets the blame for his teams failures! Typical of the injustice suffered by goalies everywhere! A disgrace I say! I hope the man in the picture is given for taking his place, as I said, he is a real hero of our time!

Tuesday

Every week I begin by attempting to get fit. By the end of the week I feel good and within days I am overcome by weariness and the 'bug' feeling. This lasts for days and then I am ready to start again, but always starting from the beginning I find. To that end I walked out in the cold sunshine this morning, and after sleeping that off, I went out again this afternoon. It was almost like Spring! The sun shone, the sky was blue and people almost smiled as they passed. Wandering along the old railway I noticed this squirrel happily sitting, or was he posing, on top of this cut down tree just off the line. he appeared to be doing nothing but questioning the meaning of life, or maybe wondering where All the branches had gone more like. Poor lad, it was probably one of his favourite hang outs and now it's gone! There has been a lot of work on the vegetation on the line in recent days, and though this tree is in a private garden the squirrels must be wondering about their hide outs. How lovely to walk in the sunshine, to even see a few flying insects, and hear the birds in the trees. A robin and a thrush sang for me as I passed by. Mind you, if I could speak thrush I may be disillusioned by what he was actually saying about me of course! A good afternoon! However I am knackered now. How come I am so unfit?



This is the river from which the town gets its name. Now from our window in Edinburgh I can look over the Firth of Forth, and the sight of that majestic Firth speaks to me of what a river is like. In fact the young ladies on Scottish Diary have some excellent pictures of the Firth of Forth on their Flicker widget. Well worth a look! However, when I consider what I was brought up with and look into this dirty brown stream I find it hard to call this a 'river.' This is no more than a wee burn to me, and when you look you see it has actually overflowed and flooded the land all around, well a wee bit anyway. Further along the reeds and flooded area would make a great place for kids to play. I suspect neurotic mum's and social service staff would object.

When we drove around on Monday we passed many fields on the borders with Suffolk which were flooded, some over a wide area. The rain has not been excessive but the water floods down through the fields, leaving a dirty brown river full of chemicals and farmers waste I suspect. Kevin, my instructor, kept suggesting they dig barriers to control the flood as it happens every year. However I don't believe water is that keen to be controlled. Far too many houses are built round here on flood plains, in one area the houses have a form of 'stilts' 20 foot high under the foundations just to keep them above the possible flood! How daft is that? The drive was in fog and sunshine, what horrible conditions! So bad that even the drivers round here behaved well! I have booked the theory test fr the 10th and then, if I pass, I will book the actual driving test.
I am on my knees now!

Rabbie Burns 250th Anniversary

Rabbie Burns has long been Scotland's favourite bard. This year commemorates the 250th anniversary of his birth. A brief life is given here, and a fuller description of his poetry and all can be found on this excellent site.

Here is one of his most successful poems.

Fareweel to a' our Scottish fame,
Fareweel our ancient glory;
Fareweel ev'n to the Scottish name,
Sae fam'd in martial story.
Now Sark rins over Solway sands,
An' Tweed rins to the ocean,
To mark where England's province stands-
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

What force or guile could not subdue,
Thro' many warlike ages,
Is wrought now by a coward few,
For hireling traitor's wages.
The English stell we could disdain,
Secure in valour's station;
But English gold has been our bane-
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

O would, or I had seen the day
That Treason thus could sell us,
My auld grey head had lien in clay,
Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace!
But pith and power, till my last hour,
I'll mak this declaration;
We're bought and sold for English gold-
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

Now I'm not one to Complain! However....

Watching this man traipsing over the countryside I feel I must object! For several years now he has been walking along, in all weathers, with a large brolly sticking out of his knapsack, looking over his shoulder. Why? This man has covered most of the British Isles in recent years, for 'Map Man,' 'Coast,' and 'Great British Journeys.'(The last now available as a book, probably the others are also.) The outstanding feature of these programmes is that he never remains still for a moment. If he is not wandering over a pathway unused since Queen Victoria died looking over his shoulder and talking into the camera, he is climbing something, crossing a stream, cycling, or (his favourite surely) in some form of water borne vehicle, paddling happily into the storm! Why does he never stand still? Even when he does stop to converse with an 'expert' on the way the camera is moving at all times. Blurred images are seen as an important part of explaining history (oh yeah?) shaky camera work is helping us understand why he is cycling an 19th century bike over a deep, fast flowing river. Worse, all these daft, trendy ideas are seen in the other programmes also. I have news for you TV people - it doesn't work!

Just stand still and look at the camera and appear intelligent and knowledgeable. Talking to a camera behind you makes you look desperate or daft, possibly both! Blurred images tell us you spend too much time with kids at art college and not enough time talking to your audience. And while I am at it, when the hero meets an expert why oh why do they shake hands? This programme has been researched for months ahead, cameras have talking hours to get the lighting set 'just so,' and all we see is a practiced, surprised, meeting prepared last March!
Just get on with it!

Actually I really like these sorts of programmes. They are worth so much more than the constant diet of pap that fills the screen. Soaps and antique programmes, more soaps and house programmes, another few crime dramas - which are just soaps, and more soaps fill the screen day after day! Crane at least gives us something different that takes us out of ourselves and shows us the world around us, and those who have passed by already. Such things should be memorable for the content, not the enthusiastic daftie presenting it!





To fill time while worrying about the football results today I intend to bake some of these 'Oat Rounds' following (almost) this recipe. My version may differ in that I am incompetent, however in past time I have found these nourishing and cheap oat bics well worth a try! The recipe is simple, it has to be, and found here! Oats reduce cholesterol among other things and were used by Scots raiders in time past to keep ahead of the English knights. By carrying oats in a bag, mixing it with water and heating it over a fire (they carried a small metal tray with them) they had their basic supper. Knowing how to live of the land they rampaged through the murderous English taking back what had been stolen by the thieving neighbours. English knights tried this with flour and found it turned mouldy when contacting the horses sweat. (It was kept just behind the saddle). Oats did not suffer this, and once again Scots guile defeated English thuggery. Oats gives you brains. Good eh?



last January British Gas raised its prices by 35%. This, they said, was because of the cost price to them of Russian gas. In spite of a reduction of such gas prices of some 50% in recent days British Gas have now announced, as if we are to rejoice, a reduction in prices of some 10% - at the end of March! March, as you will appreciate, is when Spring begins to show itself and heating tends to get turned off. The words 'greedy,' 'grasping,' cheating and, in spite of Conservative lovers everywhere, 'nationalisation,' comes to mind. With the credit crunch biting hard, unemployment soaring, and business costs rising high, these privatised utilities are getting rich on the backs of those that can least afford it. My gas costs have gone up with each bill, and my usage has gone down! How can we avoid using gas when the temperature in some place was minus 6 degrees last night? The fields are white with frost this morning and the only heat was found when a British Gas director passed by. He was rubbing his hands together so gleefully the frost disappeared from the field! It is time these folks read the book of Amos!

Scottish Holiday

Tuesday Morning

It was dark when I rose this morning. So very dark I could see nothing whatever. I stumbled around getting dressed and clambered through towards the coffee. Fumbling around in the dark I ended up with tea as I could not see where the coffee was to be found. I managed to switch on the wireless, Radio 4's man on the spot was standing in the freezing cold talking about Obama. I changed to 5Live where his colleague was on the other side of the road discussing those who gather to watch the inauguration. Still in the dark I bumped into things spilling the tea while making for the PC. I changed the radio to the BBC World Service where their man was talking to those visiting Washington. I groped for the remote and changed channel to 'TalkSport,' where a taxi driver indicated the problems that Manchester City had in recruiting Kaka was down to the US election of Obama. I turned to the CD and played Mozart. Suddenly, as I switched on the screen a light came on in my head. It was not dark after all, I had just forgotten to open my eyes!

It strikes me how often this man is described as an 'African American.' Has the word 'black' become illegal perhaps? Or does this reveal the deep need within us all to belong to our group? After all it appears there are no 'Americans' these days as they are all 'something American.' Italian American, Jewish American, why can't they just be American? I can understand their shame in carrying that label but really it's time to call it like it is! Your American so say so, without the added bit! If you are proud of your nation improve it, don't segregate it again! Will anything change? Yes and no! The image of the US has already improved simply by the end of 'Dubyahs' time. The thuggish bullying dumb American foreign policy is already seen as coming to an end. It might even do that! However will climate change end, economic troubles disappear, or war zones become peaceful? Not for a long time. However a change is required and brings a certain excitement. Real life however arrives tomorrow.




I took this picture many years ago in a vain attempt to impress people with my knowledge and erudition. One day I will get around to reading all those books..... When I think of it, if I had read, or studied perhaps is a better word, all the books around me instead of starting and stopping as I do, then I would be so full of knowledge I would know almost everything! Mind you, that would not get anyone to employ me would it? 'You know to much,' would be the cry. How wrong they would be. When a postman one woman asked about some situation somewhere and I gave her my opinion. "Why are you a postman?" she asked, as if postmen were supposed to be dumb. Few were in fact, and several very well educated. The idea that certain 'classes' ought to have understanding still remains within us. However of those who win quiz competitions, and the hardest of all such as 'Brain of Britain' or 'Mastermind' rarely come from the top classes. Maybe they are all employed in 'top jobs?' Intellect belongs to us all, it is what we do, or don't do, with it that counts.

It's obvious what I have done with mine.....

What Sight!

How wonderful! Who can fail to be moved by the sight of a steam train thundering along? One of the great invention of the 19th century the train revolutionised the UK and changed the world! However after the second world war most countries developed their railways by the use of diesel or electric trains and even the bankrupt UK , which went bust standing alone in the early forties, decided to go over to such traction. While the new trains were more efficient, cleaner, and much more reliable,eventually, they do not attract such warm appreciation as a charging steam engine does. However capable the new trains may be, whatever marvellous speeds they race along at, the romance of steam never fades!

Health & Safety

After rising from my pit this morning I cleared the condensation from the window and gazed blearily into the darkness. Wind and rain hurtled by, cars splashed through the puddles and through the mirk on the other side of the road occasional townsfolk could be seen, walking bent forward, into the storm. For a moment I thought I was back in Edinburgh and July had arrived, however the man on the TV put me right. "Weathers rotten, let's see how it gets worse," he muttered. It will, storms tonight along the north west and rain and cold for several more days ahead. Goody, just what I wanted!

After a breakfast of yesterdays leftovers the gray clouds lightened somewhat and I noticed a man jogging along the footpath.There are one or two who indulge in this ridiculous exercise at the weekends, usually lasting only a couple of weeks. One lass has however been running in a mile long circle for some time now. I did not notice her today however she must be very much fitter than I was when playing football - the proper kind - although of course running was never my game. I played in goal and that was sufficient running around for me I can tell you. Those who think running fifty yards upfield and forty back, then across the pitch and back again is fun are beyond my comprehension. As for folk who do marathons, well!

Anyway I digress, this was not about daft folk attempting to get fit or kill themselves by jogging, it was about the thing on the fellows back. There he was, in light coloured shorts and sweatshirt, wearing a luminous light green hi-vis vest! What for? He was running on the pavement, and few folk at that time of the morning drive on the pavements around here. This brought to mind how needless some of these Health & Safety ideas are today. It is one thing to be safety conscious but another to be either stupid or neurotic about it. Imagine the pilot on that plane landing in the Hudson river being neurotic and overly health and safety conscious? No one would have survived! Calmness and good training, plus prayer probably, got them out! A neurotic stewardess yelling as water lapped around her ankles would have been just what those folks required at that time!

When I was working in yards full of lorries it was wise to wear such a vest. Clearly the driver ought to be able to see you but bad light and other hazards meant safety was important. The woman who walked past me on Monday wearing one may have been neurotic or plain daft I am not sure, but she appeared to be merely going shopping! Maybe the trolleys in the Supermarket run into her too often. I have news for you lass, that will not stop them! One day at Royal Mail the young manager told me off because my orange jacket was a bit worn. "It's dangerous out there on the roads," he said," You don't want to get knocked of your bike!" I had been working for forty years and never knew the roads could be dangerous! I was so glad he was there!

Of course the real reason for the jackets worn by every utility worker, van driver and half the population is not Health & Safety but insurance! No insurance company will pay out if you have not worn the Hi-Vis jacket. Indeed the helmet and the right footwear are also important here. Royal Mail drivers who wear trainers always carry a pair of official shoes in the van - just in case they have an accident! The cry is not "Ambulance," but "Change my shoes quick!" The insurance folk (as Crotchety will tell you) do not like paying out cash! The lack of a hi-vis jacket loses the company an insurance pay out, that is why they, plus helmets, need to be worn along with all the other paraphernalia. Is it all necessary? Sometimes, but not always, common sense and keeping your eyes open are more important. This must do for jogging surely?

Royal mail of course have also got other management problems. The chap in the picture above was sent home for wearing 'Nike' shorts! RM insist on their own uniform, which is fair enough, but to have the police lead him from the office appears a bit over the top. It is clear from the report that there is much more to this than meets the eye. Lazy postmen, bad management, trouble makers on both sides, but who is in the right? Neither I would imagine. However it makes for a typical 'Daily Mail' story. It also supplies a picture of postmen today!

Blogs and Blogging

Reading through some blogs the other day, well most days actually, I find many folks are sitting at their PCs awaiting the muse to move so they can blog! This fact fascinated me as I realised that I, like so many others, sit here desperate to write something. Why do we do it?When I began this blogging I just wanted to shout my opinions to the world in a vain effort to make all and sundry know I had all the answers. This has brought many replies, the main one being that I was wrong! It never ceases to amaze me just how many people in this world live simply to point out my mistakes. I would argue about this but all to often they are right! However being wrong about so many things does not, at least in the blogosphere, stop anyone from posting their opinions, so I continue. The blog was a place where I could make my opinions known, and just be heard by someone somewhere. Whether they agree or not is irrelevant, as long as I can have a place to let my voice be heard, that is what is important.

I might be wrong, but for many this is one of the main motivations for blogging.

Certainly blogs have practical uses. People can keep in touch with others when spread miles apart, families or clubs, servicemen far from home, sports organisations and even businesses can keep contact with their friends and families when distance keeps them apart. This is good, but boring for those who come upon these blogs unexpectedly. (Can anything be more boring than a blog full of pictures of a baby and its doings? No doubt fun for granny miles on the other side of the world, but for you and me the doings of little Johnny, especially when covered in spaghetti (why post such pics?) can, and should, be given a miss!) The results of a local badminton league do nothing for those uninvolved but are at least useful for those concerned. It is the personal blogs, whether about the individuals life or their opinions that blogs come into their own. The daily diary may appear somewhat boring but the lives revealed seldom are. (Unless it's a woman talking about her boyfriend of course!) What's more they are world wide and that really impresses me. The media in any country spends its time on local affairs, world wars and tragedies are irrelevant if a cat is stuck up a tree in the local high street! The blog world however takes me with a couple of clicks from Singapore to Kent, on to the USA and wherever takes my fancy. The only problem is the time difference! While I am dreaming of golden beaches and pretty young girls bringing me cold drinks as the rain lashes against the window someone in Thailand is insulting their intellect by browsing the site. As I rise I read their scribbles and then while the drowsy eyelids of America snore through the night I indulge my laughter muscles with blogs hot from late night typing. Who knows how they cope in Greenland?

Somewhere in the world there are itchy fingers with nothing to type, looking out the window for inspiration. The need to type away is now an addiction which must be obeyed. Drugs and drink can be 'Cold Turkeyed' away, Blogging cannot be avoided! The need to write for the audience (the worst reason, you must write for yourself or you become another aspect of the media, writing what they want to hear rather than what you want to say!) the desperate need to post that humorous story, or possibly the political situation that only the blogger can put write must be posted! However, if nothing comes to mind the void left is deeper than the Grand Canyon, wider than the Pacific Ocean, and the heart of the blogger bereft. I must stop here and mope for a while as nothing comes to mind this morning, and on top of that there is far to much to do, now as I have nothing to say I must do it. Those little chores, drawing back the curtains to let light in, opening the windows to let air in, clearing the moss covered contents from the fridge, and lifting all the mail from behind the door! A pile of junk lies there now. Oh yes, I suppose having my second bath of the year might be an idea also......

Freezing Fog

As I took of my mitts to reveal the woollen gloves with the fingers cut off, unzipped the sleeping bag and threw the cold hot water bottles on the floor, pushed back the duvets, blankets and coats piled on top of me, I realised today would be somewhat chilly. I was right! Freezing fog hung over everything and in spite of being dressed for a quick search for the North West Passage I still felt the frostbite tingle as I trudged slowly to the soup kitchen. Watching people dressed similarly to me slip sliding away along the pavements I came across several in bright yellow clobber. That reminded me of Billy Connolly's tale of Aberdeen holidays. As a eight year old he was forced into swimming trunks and encouraged to"Get in the (North) Sea ya big Jessie!" by their mothers. Meanwhile, forty miles offshore oil rigs swarmed with men dressed in several layers of clothes, covered in bright yellow oilskins, desperately attempting to keep their body above freezing point! A mothers care never ends!

William Frederick Stone

One of the three remaining servicemen from the Great War resident in the UK has died.
William Frederick Stone died aged 108! 'Young Bill' Stone served in the Royal Navy through two major wars including time of the great and tragic battleship HMS HOOD. He wrote of his time in the services on the HMS Hood association website. It is worth a read! How many of us will live so long and see such adventures?