Routine Ruined

Since Monday life has been busy!  My routine was disturbed immediately by the laptop having hiccups and forcing me to spend time sorting that out.  Thereafter I began to enjoy the day, filling out the day with things left undone, and sorting the TV.  Tuesday, as I began the joyful day attending to one of my war websites, was interrupted by a call to fill in at the museum.  This I gladly did, as I am really nice.  Having failed to complete that task and breaking the tools involved I came home again.  Before I left I was sweet talked into returning for an hour on Wednesday afternoon.  This I did as I am still nice.  However the websites still awaited, and nought was done.  I managed some stuff but by now my routine was gone, I am due three afternoon naps by now, and today, when I ought to be asleep or finishing the outstanding works I find I just canny be bothered.  So I watched 'Time Team' on telly and made a tasteless mince instead.

Much time has been spent watching the BBC Parliament Channel these past couple of days, which has also interrupted the routine.  Not just the showpiece 'Prime Ministers Question Time,' which is indeed all show and nonsense, but the other debates, often in a quiet chamber, which show our elected representatives discussing sensibly the point at issue.  While it is often ignored by the government in the end we can see thoughtful opinions expressed on a range of issues, freely and sometimes to good effect.  On occasion this has been boring as technical points are discussed which only 'experts' can understand, on occasion extremely funny as serious points are made amid much banter across the floor.  Some are experts at rhetoric, some dull, some worldly wise.  I forgot how interesting it can be, and the long established routine of the House of ages past still followed.  The doors are locked when the result of a division is announced, and opened only when that is put through.  The four tellers bowing their heads, and possibly feeling self important, and the doors unlocked and life continues.  The committees can also be seen as well as the more sedate but no less wise House of Lords.  In spite of the ages there are some canny folk sitting there.

You will have noted, and read HERE that Scotland's referendum re remaining tied down by England has been announced.  In late 1914, the anniversary of Bannockburn, the Scots will vote for independence and stop carrying the imperialist English for the first time since 1707.  You will have rejoiced at this news I know.

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Another World Cup Fiasco

Four games out of ten played and we are out already!  I remember the time when Scotland always qualified for tournaments and then got knocked out by a lucky goal from one of the big boys.   England usually struggling against small teams to qualify, and not always making it. Now we don't get to the finals!  Tonight a very strong Belgian side, the best for a long while, removed the last chance we had.  Once more we gurn and bear it!  Once more the press stick their knives in the manager (and he probably ought to go now) once more the media line up one of their friends for the job, Walter & Alec look most likely I'd say.  Once more our stock sinks in the world, once more we wear our favourite frowns.  Wodhouse got his comment "It has never been hard to tell the difference between a Scotsman with a grievance and a ray of sunshine." from listening to Scotsmen after a football match I'm sure. There are few rays of sunshine here tonight.
Still, worse things happen at sea, don't they? 

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I wasn't Going to, But I Did!

You see I rarely watch television.  I watch the football, 'Eggheads' and the News, plus occasional other programmes.  I watch these through the laptop now as the old TV died when analogue went out.  Actually I had Freeview on another TV for a while but destroyed this by turning it on via the plug, and as it was switched on it blew!  It takes up more space catching dust. Technology does not become me. However as I looked around the neatly laid out living quarters (I have recently rearranged everything) I suddenly felt a TV would be a good idea after all.  Now I am reluctant to spend money, especially as there is so little available, however I have a couple of bob to spend at the moment to replace the worn out and dead items that have accumulated over recent times.  So when I walked in the freezing sun this afternoon I suddenly decided to pop into Tesco and see if one of their suitable TV's were reduced.  Glory be they were!  So I went for it and now have 75 channels of pap on call.  Well actually a few are channels you pay for, so I will not be having them, and one or two are the dubious late night ones which are long past my cocoa.  Strangely enough I am enjoying watching an aged edition of 'Time Team' in somewhat too brilliant colour.  This is typical of my life, what others take for granted I am able to enjoy as a new experience as it is yonks since I actually had a TV on call.  Of coourse there is a problem, there always is I find, I only have an inside aerial.  This means that, being digital, almost every time a car passes the picture shakes.  This will always happen when football is on!  

Now if some one will pay me £50 a month I will add the football!  

Hello?  Hello?  Where is everyone....? 

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Political Thoughts

Daily Telegraph

Happy Birthday Maggie!
Happy Birthday from the millions you threw out of work.
Happy Birthday from the folk who lost their jobs as your friends pocketed fat profits.
Happy Birthday from the mental who died on the streets under 'Community Care.'
Happy Birthday from the needless dead in the Falklands.
Happy Birthday from the disabled who had benefits cut.
Happy Birthday from those who lost their houses under your policies.

Have a nice day won't you.  

The Conservative Party, the Party that does not change its spots, whatever they say!  
Note how that nice Mr Romney considers this woman a roll model! 
Be afrain America, be very afraid!


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Five Rules

FIVE RULES TO REMEMBER IN LIFE 

1. Money cannot buy happiness, but it’s more comfortable to cry in a Rolls than on a bicycle.
2. Forgive your enemy, but remember the ass-hole’s name.
3. If you help someone when they're in trouble, they will remember you when they're in  trouble again.
4. Many people are alive only because it’s illegal to shoot them.
5. Alcohol does not solve any problems, but then neither does milk.


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Ancient Figures

This handsome chap was dug up in the middle of town during reconstruction works some years ago.  At first it was thought to be just a bit of Bronze but cleaning revealed a horse and rider.  It is likely our cavalryman held a spear in his right hand and possibly represents some God or other.  They say it is unusual in that usually cavalrymen were dressed in armour, this man appears naked.  Soldier or God I wonder.  It sits in one of the museums renovated cases alongside a small child and a head.

I am not clear as to what these represent but I am not likely to want that head sitting on my mantelpiece any time soon.  I am fascinated by the items that have been found in the ground from days of long ago.  These will be Roman (ish) as they say Celts did not have figurines of any type before the Roman invasion.  Plenty of convoluted patters but no figures it appears.  This fact had not struck me and reminded me of how little I know.  

   

Sadly I did not take the time to ensure the image was clear.  It was not easy in that light to picture the items through the glass, as you can see!  Also I have enlarged the picture so that does not help.  What thinkest thou of this lass?  I had no intention of going to the Museum this morning but when the phone rang at five minutes past nine I knew who was on the other end!  To me the position of 'dogsbody,' on call as it were to fill gaps, is better than a regular spot at the moment.  It does mean that my day is altered if the phone rings!  It was enjoyable today however, and these figures fascinated me when I saw them again.  Consider the folks who lost them, their homes, around 2000 years ago, their society and position within it.  The homes, few rreaching into the sky like ours do today.  The difficulty of getting water daily, the constant milling of grain and the smell of bread baking daily, the view over open fields and the sky always above us, not hidden behind vapour trails.  The silence, no music bar that made by individuals, not deep base thumping from passing cars.  Animals running loose, walking everywhere unless very rich, the day filled with tasks technology makes easy for us.  

I wonder if we or they are more stressed by our lives?   

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Monday Muse

George Osborne the Chancellor of the Exchequer gave his speech today at the Conservative Party Conference and earned 'luke war applause,'  according to one Rosa Prince, the Telegraph 'Online Political Editor,' whatever that is!  "What did he say?" I hear you ask.  I neither know nor care.  In fact whatever was to follow here is now rapidly going the same way I did while listening to said Chancellor lying in his teeth discussing his policies on the 'Today' programme this morning.  I switched off then, I think I will do so now.  Suffice to say his friends will be OK, and the 'plebs' will carry the can, they always do.

This is a painting by one Mark Rothko, a famous, important, abstract painter whom you have never heard off until now.  This 'work of art' was 'vandalised' by a chap who added a postcript at the bottom.  What surprised me concerning this news was the price, this 'art work' is valued at £10 million!  "Jings! Crivvens! And Help ma Boab!"  I used to do abstract art at school but at no time did the art teacher put down the geography teacher from next door long enough to inform me that my 'work' was worth 'millions.'  He did place one on the lobby wall certainly but I am unsure whether he sent it to a gallery after I left or used it as dart board.  I can guess....  The art world, and indeed the fashion world, are one big con!  An understanding and appreciation of art is not required, just lots of money if you wish to be seen buying the 'right thing,' and a huge determination to be seen and find fame and fortune if you are an 'artist.  Talent is not required.

I attempted the Carrot Cake today and I am mightily surprised by the result.  It may never sell in the local national bakers but it will be good enough for me.  Quite why she calls these carrot cookies I fail to comprehend.  The Yanks were still playing baseball in 1940 while Britain 'stood alone' as the cheese eating surrender monkeys did what they do best.  I am quite pleased with myself now.  Tomorrow it's Bannocks!

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Now I'm Not One to Complain, But....

After expostulating on the deficiencies of YODEL's version of service I yesterday I put myself into sleep mode by watching Inverness playing their local rivals Ross County in the first 'Highland SPL Derby.'  Most enjoyable indeed, and watching people playing football while freezing cold rain comes straight down is indeed enjoyable, when I am lying in my warm bed at the time.  Thus relaxed I slept,  fitfully as my dreams interrupted by 'white van man' passing the door and visions of my phone being used by others.  Today however I returned to important matters, Tesco first for the things forgotten yesterday, then market for the fruit to keep me healthy and young looking, (What's that you said?) and turning on the laptop to watch the Saturday football.  Could life get better than this I ask?  Three games on the trot to watch today wooppee, but at 2:45 my enjoyment was disturbed by a rapping at the door.  Not being one who likes 'Rap' I hastened to the door with an appropriate shotgun.  A woman stood there, with a box, (a woman who used to work Saturday's only for Royal Mail) stood there, holding a box!  My phone had arrived!!!  Somewhat irritated she was too, the address failed to contain the flat number and she had rapped at the door downstairs unheard by me as I was watching the football.  That made no difference as the bell is broke anyway but she left me the box and shuffled off grumpily to complete her other deliveries.  She did not recognise me which surprised me, women usually do! 

So while Wigan Athletic worked over Everton I opened the box, studied the paperwork, and managed to set up and charge the phone.  By the time Arsenal had put West ham to the sword I was studying the paperwork and asking "What....?" quite a lot.  You must understand the old phone goes back about a dozen years, and in those far off days, when life was better, then sending a text was exotic!  This one makes no sense to me in any way, yet I can send emails, use facebook and run up bills.  Fantastic!  In about six months time I might have worked out how to make a call, whether I know how to do anything else, such as work the radio, find the camera, or whatever is as yet unclear.  

I suppose being able to store all those numbers means I will have to find some friends now ......

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Bloody Annoyed!

The mobile phone I never use is dead.

I decide to order a new cheap one.  It is useful to have such for emergencies.  

I go back to Virgin Mobile for a cheap one.  I buy it online.

This means cost increased by rip of delivery charge of almost £8. However it will be delivered between 7 - 9 am next morning.

Next morning, I wait.

I wait, I wait, I jump up frequently as the bloke working next door keeps returning to his van for items and giving the impression he is a delivery van.  If he wasn't so big I would tell him what I think.

I wait and wait.  I wait.

After a while I check the delivery notice e-mails again. This time noting a 'track goods' link.  This I check.  It transpires the delivery is not coming via one of the many courier companies with depots in the local area and drivers who known their way around.  Oh no, Virgin send goods via a company based in Cambridge, 50 miles away!!!  Not only the distance, this is YODEL, a badly named company with an atrocious record regarding delivery.  Deliver before 9?  According to the read out he only picked the thing up at 7:44.  

Grrrrrr!

Encouraged by an unsmiling UPS man delivering next door just after 3 pm I held off phoning in.  I had checked the tracking site and noticed a change.  The parcel was now 'with the courier for delivery.'  "He's off home," thought I.  He is now heading for Cambridge and a Friday night pub brawl.  My mood darkened, although outsiders may not have noticed this as I had already began to spit blood.  

After 4 I called in.

"Choose 1 for....." began. 

"Choose ... enter... " wait.

It takes me back to where I was and "Choose 1...."

Having slammed the phone down I thought I would call Virgin themselves.

"Choose..."

I slammed the phone down.

I waited and tried again when in a better mood.

"Choose...." I chose, I waited, I chose, I waited, I endured bloody awful music, I waited, I waited, I slammed the phone down.

I tried Virgin again.......SLAM!!!!

I emailed.

I made a point or two, I made a demand or two, I asked a question or two.

It was late, I got no reply, I expect no parcel tomorrow, I expect a call with words possibly tomorrow, although being Saturday they may not be available, and I expect them to be told where to shove it and give back the cash!  

I fail to understand what is wrong with me these days.  I get so annoyed so easily.  Life improves on one hand and things fall apart on the other.  I am just glad I don't live in a gun toting society.

I may have used one today.

p.s. Just after 10 pm I again look at the tracking to discover the driver 'could not locate.'  He could not locate a road paved by the Romans and in constant use ever since?  Lazy good for nothing!

Right that's that.  let's see something funny for Friday.

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NHS Death Announced

Daily Mail

Jeremy Hunt, the Health Secretary, a man who's name was famously mispronounced by James Naughtie on the 'Today' programme a while back, has announced the death of the NHS.  Speaking in an interview with the 'Spectator' he has made it clear that while the NHS budget is 'ringfenced' up to 1915 after that the budget may have to be slashed!

This comes as no surprise to me, or indeed the majority of the nation.  The Conservative Party have never liked the NHS.  The Conservative Party do not like anything they think costs them money.  The Conservative Party and their friends the 'Tea Party,' together comprise the greediest, selfish people known to mankind.  The idea of paying tax towards the greatest health service known to man is beyond their capabilities, until of course they require its help.  Then the GP is demanded to be on call when they wish him to be there, even if their problem is minor.  The thought of waiting in line is beneath such people, self importance comes first.  The idea of sharing the cost between the nation, enabling all to have a first class service at all times, even though there may be a wait, is beyond them.  The idea that someone somewhere is getting medical care from their taxes, tax they could spend on themselves, hurts them deeply.  Therefore Hunt can make such statements happily knowing that a vast number of (well off) people will vote Conservative at the next election, even if they think Cameron and Hunt are not up to the job.  Money in the hand gets their vote every time!

The NHS is expensive.  Well over a hundred billion a year.  Put that against the lives saved, pains eased, disease and disabilities overcome as much as possible, teeth and eyes attended to, and then fuss about a few pence a week tax.  The Conservative Party wish us to introduce the American insurance style system, Thatcher the milk snatcher was all for this during the days she threw the mentally ill out of the hospitals and onto the streets.  That saved cash by placing them 'in the community,' a community that saw them die in cardboard boxes!  Still, it saved cash.  Hunt is here offering the Tory view, a view that is growing amongst many such, that cutting cash to the NHS is good for the taxpayer and will not affect the service.  This week it must be added saw around 20 accident and emergency clinics close down or are planned to close.  Be happy about travelling 15 -50 miles for emergency treatment, if an ambulance can find you in the first place, and hopefully don't die on the way.  This would of course save the NHS money if you did however.   

So Hunt lives up to his scrambled name as the Tories begin the long. long haul to the next election.  The clarity is good however, we now know that the far right will make an effort to take control, and we know what that did for them last time don't we!  Goodbye Jeremy, I hope your new job will be more successful than any you have had recently.

Wednesday Emptiness

Nothing happened.

I shopped.
i didn't find bargains.

I cooked my stew.
I ate some.
I am still alive.

I attempted to fix the ageing stereo.
I ate lots of dust because of this.
Tomorrow I look for a new one.

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Monday Ramblings

With autumn settling in, the leaves beginning to brown and the rain making it's presence felt I thought a picture of blue sky was called for.  I took this snap on Saturday when two ancient aircraft flew over the cemetery.  They must have been heading for a show somewhere, there are still several airports within a twenty mile radius. Sadly my little camera is not capable of reaching them 2000 feet up. In the cemetery I was once again looking for Serjeant Smoothy.  I called to him several times, I suggested he raised his hand so I could see him, but no answer was the reply.  I suppose being dead since 1919 slows down the responses. 

Mine we slow when I sauntered round to the museum early to dismantle the 'Essex in Sport' exhibition, or whatever it was called.  A display commemorating all the sporting greats from the county.  This included a visit from Jimmy Greaves, a genuinely good footballer and England great.  Not from from us resides Geoff Hurst though whom England stole the World cup, for the second time, by not scoring three goals in the 1966 world cup final.  The ball never crossed that line!  Not that I am one to mention this however.  The work only took a short time, less than an hour and my contribution was complete and I was flung back out onto the street.  However being so unfit I feel the effects even now.  How easily muscle goes stiff!  

Bored?  So am I.  Nothing to write about, no rants apart from the usual,nothing sensational to lay before the world.   My brain has been dead for a few days and no original thought crosses my mind just now.  Although the 'date cakes' I made from the World War Two recipes were excellent!  And I rarely say that about anything I make.  Try it!  I should say my weight is increasing, possibly I've had too much of the Date Cake.  Anyway, Carrott cake tomorrow. 

OK, yawn with your mouth closed, I'm off to watch the football, and fall asleep.

p.s. So you don't like Bill Evans jazz music eh?  Phillistines Pah!

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Sunday Evening Music

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Friday Frivolity

High above us each day we see these vapour trails.  Aircraft passing overhead, mostly from nearby Stansted Airport, some from deep into Europe heading for the far west and vice versa.  I discovered an interesting site that allows us to track the flight of aircraft. Until recently this was only possible in Europe and certain other airports worldwide, now however planes can be tracked in most parts of the globe, and it is amazing just how many are up there at one time.  Click on Flightradar24 and find fascinating details about the airliners poisoning your atmosphere are the wealthy travel the world.   

The other day another programme was screened enlightening folks as to how we lived during the second world war.  The reasoning is possibly two fold for such programmes.  On the one hand those who lived through that time are dying off rapidly, it is 67 years since the war ended and those who were 20 at that time are now approaching 90 and therefore serving servicemen and families are becoming rarer.  Those of us who arrived just before, during or after that time have little need to understand much more of that time, we lived it after all, but so many of the present generation have no understanding of any kind of the life their elders lived.  It was ever thus, and these programmes do enlighten such souls.  On the other hand many who lived then have, quite rightly, a memory of the greatest time of their lives!  Sure millions died but they survived!  The excitement for some, the emotions that arose, the loss on one hand and often gains on the other had a huge impact on them and to this can be added the fact the they won!  These were the participants in the greatest was so far.  The shared fears and emotions, the victory over a real evil must be regarded as a huge and important aspect of their lives.  This is of course the same in Germany, although guilt and failure leave a somewhat different shade to the memories.  One thing that was mentioned was the diet.  Because food would become scarce it became important to grow as much vegetables as possible, meat would be in short supply.  The nation was commanded to 'Dig for Victory!'  And they did!  This meant the UK, in spite of so many shortages, was healthier than it had ever had been, and indeed has been since.  So I dug out some wartime recipes and bought lots of veg, at least this will keep me on the run!  Buying is the only option as there is no place to grow things here, other than the park.  I might try that but these council jobsworths get annoyed.  I know you too are desperate to lose weight eat a much healthier diet so here is the link I found.  100 Wartime Recipes Actually the only one I tried was the 'wartime Scotch Shortbread,' and while exceedingly fattening it would not have been encouraged to feed the troops of any regiment I know, that's for sure.  Maybe I did something wrong......?

I was looking for a counter for the site after 'Sitemeter' got hacked and discovered that device was introducing adverts secretly.  I ended up trying .StatCounter' which might be OK but came across 'Freeware Home'  a site I have used often in times past.  It's worth a look for mean, cheap, skinflint types, I enjoy it.......        

p.s. There is no free beer.

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The Letterman Quiz

The Daily Telegraph have produced a 21 question British (Pah! They mean English) Quiz.  I got three wrong, 18/21, and I am quite smug about this.  'Dave' may have got about five right I reckon.  How many can you get right?

  Telegraph Quiz.


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CoE Choice

So the discussions are under way.  The Crown Nominations Committee meet to thrash out who is the best of the motley collection lined up to replace the outgoing Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams.  Under the Law of England & Wales the Anglican (Church of England) is required to ask the Prime Minister to choose the Bishop and Archbishops of the church.  This is because the church is linked into the unwritten (and rightly) constitution of the country.  The Church of Scotland of course runs in a differing fashion.  The Nominations committee select two candidates and the PM gives his choice.  In the comedy 'Yes Prime Minister,' PM Jim Hacker is offered a choice of two, "I have to choose between an atheist and a Marxist?" he says.  The comedy was near the truth in many cases.  It is time I say that the connection between the church and state was ended.  No church should be interfered with by any government.  The church must look to the Lord of the church himself, not to political connections.  This may affect the constitutional situation, but that's too bad.  Past history has distorted both the church and the state.  The BBC have linked Five leading names for this job, and some brief details of their opinions on various subjects. I found it relevant that Jesus and their relationship with him and his word was not given a look in.  That says much about the BBC, the Anglican church and the men named.  Just what PM Cameron will think I could not say.  He will be too busy getting the same sex marriage bill through anyway.

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Brain Dead Today, so

...here is an old golden advert!

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I was going to ....

...grumble about the rain which fell after I had gone up the road this morning.  However I merely give thanks that I was inside when it went on to hammer down once I had got inside.  I could instead murmur about the John Terry shambles.  A small situation which has gone well out of proportion just because the tabloids want to get back at him, and there are some who dislike him and exaggerate a slur for their own reasons.  He is probably not the nicest man, but even so there comes a time to call a halt.  There are worse folks walking the streets who are ignored by the media.  Just look at the Tory Party! I could whine easily about silly wee girls who get banned from school for having the wrong hair colour/trousers or whatever and run to the press in tears.  My sympathy for their breaking clear rules is very low.  My thoughts on the 15 year old who ran off with a 30 year old teacher is even less obvious.

However I canny be bothered.  Instead I wish to think of blue skies:-

or football in the park on newly cut sweet grass.  I remember that fragrance well, I spent my football career face down amongst it!

or possibly considering pretty young lassies:-

oh.....wrong picture......blast this laptop!

Sunday Evening Music

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Nothing

So here is a picture of unobservant workmen

The Day Out

The day out consisted of a couple of hours in Chelmsford.  Not renown as a city of fame, in fact it is quite boring really, but I fancied a change and off I jolly well went.  The Cathedral, begun 800 years ago, is quite impressive inside.  Sadly it is on the Anglo-Catholic side of things, but it is very well done up.  Nice stained glass windows, a few interesting murals high up, a fabulous ceiling, interesting memorials and friendly staff.  The heavy wax from the prayer candles choked a bit however.  Not really how I see church but this one stores the Essex Bishop, whoever he is.  I always find an attraction in the steeple pictured against the bright blue sky, which never quite works for me.  I thought the old style light fitted in well anyway.  I would have liked to take a picture or two inside but felt that interfered with those prayer/meditating folks there.   Oh yes, and they had a door, indeed a door adorned by two of those heads.

This is a door, and one adorned by two of those head things.  A side door it may be but it does have two somewhat bashed heads.  Soub will point out why, but a 15 year old apprentice fixing things might be responsible I reckon.

  

The wrong way round but you get the er, picture.  Somewhat weather beaten angels I think. However this impressive piece was on the far end.

 

It is a contemporary rendition of Peter, with fishing boots, net, fish & key!  It's certainly noticeable.  (He should of course be called 'Cephas, as that is the name Jesus gave him, but the Greek version was 'Petras' and that stuck.  But you all know this.)  

Most of Chelmsford is to me just a pedestrianised High Street full of the usual shops, a shopping centre full of the usual shops, and a retail market with a variety of the usual stalls, including a butchers where I obtained a three pack of chicken bits for £5:99, a small fortune to me.  Shops are of course full of women, blocking the aisles, pushing folks aside, slowly cogitating on every other item they see, crowding into places like Marks & Spencers where the only men you see are being told by their women what they are buying, all shops are crowded, all very overpriced to me.  Even the Gift Aid Bookshop which drew me like a magnet was expensive.  While I am all for making a profit I am not paying £3:99 for a book, worthy as it may be when we all know most charity shops would charge £1 - £2:50 at most.  There is a huge price increase in such establishments as they go a wee bit upmarket.  While some such still stink of stuffy second hand clothes others are becoming very flash and while this may bring in cash I think it misses the point somehow.  The town itself however appears to be on the up.  Fewer charity shops near the centre, shops full and no Christmas goods that I noticed.  Good for them.  

    

There may well be other things of note worth pointing the camera at but all this walking through the hordes of wildebeest bumping into me every other step was very tiring.  Just wait till Christmas comes, imagine the crowds, buy now right enough!  I headed back for the train.  Just up from the stations stands this solid memorial to the thousands who fell in the Great War, many Essex men fell wastefully at Gallipoli, poor souls. 

Did I say train?  Oh yes, long time since we have had a picture of the railway.  This one was not mine by the way.  Our train was an older one.  The better class trains go past my stop.   Still memories of the old days were to be found here if one looks close.

The old water tank for steam engines and a dilapidated signal box.  Not used today I suspect.  Isn't that fabulous?  What, oh!  I forgot some of you are female......

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The Wednesday Late Night Matinee....

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Happy Christmas!

Yes indeed that is my Christmas present for Tesco, Morrison's, Sainsburys & Marks & Spenser's who I note have started stuffing the aisles with Christmas fare!  Had it not been for the absurd Halloween nonsense I suspect more space would be taken up with Christmas already.  I can accept these shops expect people to wish to stock up early but September?  I understand that it is illegal in Denmark to put Christmas goods out before December arrives, we ought to consider that here.  Now I am one that when rich buys goods through the year for Christmas.  Having spent a time as a pauper this I have ceased.  My changed circumstances mean I can consider some things for the kids this year, a noose perhaps, and shopping early helps here, but should shops themselves begin  Christmas this far ahead I wonder?  

'Daily Mail'

Naturally after all the fuss re Kate and the 'topless photos' she visits the Solomon Islands and is greeted by several topless women.  William did his best to look them in the eye.....

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"Age shall not weary them...."

Well actually....

So I decided to be clever.  Chasing graves I could not find the other day I came up with a cunning plan.  The CWGC have friends who photograph such graves, and there are other means to identify the fallen.  The plan was simple, download the photos, print them out on one sheet of paper (cheaply) and carry this to either of the two cemeteries.  Brilliant!  In the morning I stuffed myself early on with somewhat stale bread, switched off the laptop, and got ready.  Then I realised I had forgotten to download the pictures.  This meant switching the laptop back on, awaiting the interminable time while it set itself up again, and then searching for the desired shots.  This I did.  I switched off and the laptop slowly ended the procedure, and as it did so I realised I had not printed them off!!!  I left anyway, my memory would be good enough I said, now that I had reacquainted myself with them.  I also planned to cycle there through the back paths, thereby avoiding the big hill both ways.  It's a delight going down such hills, but not if the traffic is busy.  Immediately I forgot to go the easy way and joined the early morning traffic on the main roads.

Later, after once again stuffing myself with stale bread, this time with greenish cheese, I decided to finish the first cemetery where two graves were still undiscovered.  This time I had already not only downloaded the two photos, I had printed them off!  Therefore, dressing carefully for the warm sunshine, checking the camera battery, and ensuring I would be back in time for the football, I set off.  It was as I passed the market I realised I had left the pictures at home.  Not only have I yet to find Mr Smoothy, my memory failing here, but later on I discovered a new man is also lying undiscovered by anyone somewhere in the other place!

Tonight, after ignoring all these mishaps, I spent a day with God and the football.  All went well, nothing could possibly go wrong, and it was when I was removing the beans from the microwave, after several minutes of heating, the lid came off and the hot sauce went all over my hand.  I now type with one hand grasping ice cubes, and the other keeping well away from the idiot.  What else can go wrong I ask?

This song is appropriate I feel....

    

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Hypocrisy?

I awoke this morning to hear tales of the condemnation heaped upon the French Magazine 'Closer' for publishing pictures of a bare breasted Kate.  Kate of course, if you are unaware of such things, happens to be married to an RAF Officer who is second in line to the throne.  The response to this 'outrage' is found in the 'Daily Mail,' the 'Daily Express,' the 'Sun,' and the 'Mirror,' all of whom offers several items, plus numbers of photographs, going into as many details as they dare of this, er, exposure.  The Online 'Mail' itself showed restraint the other day by offering a dozen large pictures of Kate, with her man in the background, as they paid their respects to the dead in a Commonwealth War Cemetery.  I consider it an outrage that men who died, often from disease, torture and beatings, should be used as a backdrop so that the press can use this woman to make money!  These papers condemn the French paparazzi, scream that she ought not to be 'used' like Diana was used, and all the time use her in the same fashion they did Diana.  The 'quality press, Times, telegraph, Guardian, Herald, Scotsman, are just as bad.  While offering a more thoughtful approach they too know that her picture will help sell their papers.  The word 'quality' I must add is used in a very wide sense here.  

I am no Diana fan, and I am sick to the teeth of pictures of Kate taking up space in the press.  Why were these women there?  Because far too many other women live their lives through these women.  Diana was as false as a six pound note.  The 'fairytale Princess' who used the media to get people on her side, and the media went along as long as desperate women lived their divorce, children or looks through her.  She sold papers and magazines every time she appeared on the cover, Kate does the same.  Now having an interest in something or someone is good, using them to live your life is bad.  Whether it is a princess or a football player (David Beckham, a waste of space is ever there was one, sells papers and magazines although he has nothing to offer!) those who wish to read the minutiae of their life need to step back a moment.  It is indeed interesting to know the story of your latest superstar, but there are limits.  For one you will never be they who you follow (those eight goals I let in at Dunfermline ruined my goalkeeping career) and they have a right to a private life.  More importantly not only will much that they offer be half truths and lies, an image as opposed to themselves, you find that most 'celebs' are broken people, desperate for attention, and require much healing, a little bit like the rest of us who lack their attraction.

The media rush to grumble about the French when really they know the public today would not let them print these pictures in the UK.  Although they may be available online (I couldn't find t...er....) the public do not wish her exposed this way.  The public (women and sad men) will still rush to read about her, mostly waiting to gush when she announces her first pregnancy.  Oh joy...

The hypocrisy of the papers that use this woman, the anger amongst them because they cannot publish the pics they have now stuck up on the office wall, the petulant outrage concerning this tale, on several picture filled pages, makes me hope Leveson and his enquiry actually makes a real decision and does not offer the whitewash I expect.

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Friday Frolic

I frolicked among the graves again today, I had permission from the various bodies concerned.  This was a required return as I had missed somebody yesterday, I found him where he lay, right under my nose.  Isn't it always the way?  Another kept himself hidden, after four years in the trenches he would be good at this.  Imagine however spending all that time avoiding bullets, coming home after your regiment is disbanded in early 1919, then dying of appendicitis a few weeks later?  How sad is that?  I found him through an internet search and this means I must return again on Monday, unless he has moved elsewhere.  There is good exercise to be had wandering about, sometimes the earth has sunk somewhat and falling into a depression is always a danger.  This almost happened to me but I recovered quickly as I'm sure I heard a small piercing voice cry "Do come in...."  I found myself several seconds later at the gate and on the way out.

I came across this while scouring the old pics.  I may have shown it here before, maybe not.  This I found in a village close by a while back.   A lovely touch in a building that faces the main street, and a very noisy one at that.  An excellent renovation I would say.  That is if he actually did put another door in around the side.

In days of yore this used to be the only way to hear music outside of the wireless and the local brass band.  These days it must be impossible to buy the needles, although many must still have records and use the thing.  Oh the delight of scratching a record and having the best track on the album jump as it played, worse still to repeat the same note over and over again.  How we suffered!  Kids today, they know nothing!

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