April Showers

As summer lashed against the window I noticed the BBC and others were claiming the US and UK had found evidence of chemical weapons, Sarin, being used by Assad in Syria.  In fact there is no 'evidence,' just US intelligence agencies believed 'with varying degrees of confidence,' that Syria had used chemical weapons.  Hmmm.  No journalists have been allowed into the area where this 'discovery' was made.  No independent evidence has been proffered.  No faith can be placed in the agencies involved.  As the US claimed months ago Assad was using them, and lied, and as Assad has no reason at this time to use such a weapon, why should we trust such a report?  The US is already offering weapons to the 'rebels,' whoever they actually are.  The UK is rushing to support, while wary of the WMD shambles, clearly someone has decided to enter Syria in force, just as the successfully did in Iraq!   The things folks do to stop Iran having nuclear weapons, yet do nothing about Pakistan's.  Which nation is more unstable I ask?     

Now that I have sat in here all day scouring the web for ancient houses in this district, and finding they are called 'tenements' or 'messuages,' not houses, I note the clouds have moved on and the sun is shining.  I suppose we ought to be glad the rain is not freezing cold, instead it was somewhat tepid.  Raking up the town's past is interesting when every so often a report arises from an individual brought before the Assize and 'recognized' with the support of two others, to stop beating harassing or troubling some other citizen.  The same names crop up, sometimes centuries apart, showing how long lived some folks family have been.  What is surprising is how little can be discovered about men who were important in their day but now lie forgotten in one of the variety of churchyards.  I gather masses of trivia but little real info so far.  Still, it keeps me off the streets.

Though April showers may come your way,

They bring the flowers that bloom in May.

So if it's raining, have no regrets,

Because it isn't raining rain, you know, (It's raining violets,)

And where you see clouds upon the hills,

You soon will see crowds of daffodils,

So keep on looking for a blue bird, And list'ning for his song,

Whenever April showers come along.

Can someone tell Al Jolson that if May is not a flood of Violets there will be trouble!

Clouds Intrigue.

I've had my head in the clouds again.  These fluffy clouds racing along several thousand feet high formed an intriguing shape.  Are these Cirrus or Cirrostratus clouds?  The names of clouds are hard enough to pronounce let alone remember!  There were higher clouds which must be Cirrus, so what be these?  A quick read of WikiClouds indicates that the names all have Latin bases, are still difficult to pronounce, and are subdivided into many further classifications.  I am no further forward, but still intrigued.


Source: metoffice.gov.uk

The BBC tell it well I say.  Worth a read. Not that those of you in tropical climes need worry about clouds.


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Signs of Life!

The wind was blowing gently from the west, the blackbirds and thrushes nipped in and out having breakfast, the sun shone brightly as I awoke, I thought how lovely, then thrust aside the old newspapers and rose from the park bench and went looking for coffee.

How nice to almost feel human this morning.  How nice to see the sun, how nice also to find nothing worth reading in the papers.  Many headlines, cries of 'Outrage,' and 'Fury,' but no real substance behind them.  The best is the Canada story of some Muslims who are working with Al Queda and Iran to blow up trains in Canada.  Now Al Queda, bin Ladens lot, are of course Sunni Muslims, Iran is Shia.  These folks are at present happily blowing one another apart in Syria (to bring democracy?) so the chances of two groups violently opposed working in Canada is a bot of a laugh.  This sounds like 'Chemical weapons' in Syria or 'WMD'  in Iraq to me.  Coupled with the FBI failure to stop the Boston bombings we require a more cynical approach to our security services and their masters. 

A failed attempt to capture the sun against the weeping whatsit here.  The colours much brighter before I played with the image, bah!  Almost like summer, but not quite.  However it cheers the soul.  One noticeable absence was the lack of English flags to be seen today.  What with their new found nationalism, or is it patriotism, I thought being 'St George's Day (their patron saint) would bring out the flags.  Possibly they forgot again.  Never mind, George, if he existed, was born in Cappadocia, which as you all know is part of northern Turkey today, and reared, so they say, in or near Jerusalem.  Quite how the English got a hold of him I know not, but the fact remains the best Englishmen are usually born outside of England!  

There is a row of these ancient park benches resting at the side of the tennis courts in the gardens.  I suspect they have sat there since the 1880's when the gardens were donated to the town.  Rich Victorians often donated green spaces to allow the citizens, at least the well behaved ones, to breathe fresh air in congenial circumstances.  Such air was required by the workers after a ten hour, six days a week shift I suspect, although the sabbatarians may have insisted it closed on Sunday of course!  They did in Scotland.  I rested not there as I was in a rush to burn my dinner, and at that I succeeded!  

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Nothing Happened Again.

Nothing happened again today.  I was up just after six to enable it to happen but it failed.  Instead I have suffered that energy draining bug again that has left me feeble for a fortnight.  This enables me to sleep often, eat quite a lot, but not to actually do anything.  I got bread from the shop. wandered across the park but when I return I feel like a lorry has run over me.  The sooner this wears off the better!

So I have done nothing and nothing has happened to be done again.  It leaves me wondering about all those old folks who don't get out.  Possibly unable to wander abroad, left with mind numbing telly to watch, no visitors to cheer.  Sick folks in rural areas often get a daily visit, however the carer has a long way to travel, can only spare 30 minutes at most, has far too many to visit, and is being underpaid and under-supported by councils in these days of austerity.  This is not good for the human beings involved.  I suspect it is worse in towns where the numbers are greater, the distances less but the loneliness worse!  London, with around 8 million is an incredibly lonely place.  At the church there when knocking on doors we found many who just wished to talk, plenty of neighbours next door who gave only a slight head nod to one another.  That is the London way.

Loneliness like that does not bother me as long as I have a PC with which to contact the world.  Had I been without one I would either have gone mad, stop sniggering at the back, or been forced to wander abroad and speak to people.  No wonder so many single folks fill public houses.  However this past few days this web has not been very satisfying.  The football was OK, but nothing else grabs much attention.  My dull mind is not exercised, especially as my deaf ear has not cleared.  That problem affects my sight also. If I lose my glasses I cannot hear properly, and being slightly deafened means I cannot see properly.  It's a funny old world saint.....

Now, what shall I burn for the dinner.....?

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Sunday Thought

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Sunny Saturday

Naturally the bright sunshine today drew me out armed with my wee camera.  This led me away from the repetitious news, centered on Boston.  I was satisfied indeed that the baddie had been captured but not with the limited information on offer, this constantly regurgitated.  So out I went.  Naturally such sunshine is a heartening experience so to avoid that I went to the Congregational churchyard and looked at the gravestones!  Amongst these there bloomed an abundance of small blue and yellow flowers.  Sadly the colours not quite captured by my lens.  The place swarmed with them and I alone was there to admire.  An attempt to picture the bright blue of the sky failed, the sun deciding to shine upon me at that time, this being an experience I am unused to I ran into the shade of a tree.  Most of the gravestones here reflect the wealth such people gathered in the 19th century, clearly these were prosperous people able to afford such a stone at their grave.  One or two paid for I guess by benefactors, those of the previous ministers for example. However the majority of attenders at this chapel do not have such stones, the majority did not reach the heights.  One Thomas Craig, a Scotsman, ministered here for 62 years, departing in 1865 aged 84!  Whether he was still minister is not clear.  Another previous occupant of that post had served 39 years!  He began his ministry in a farmers barn, dissenters were illegal at the time.  It was still compulsory, but not so strictly as it had been, to attend the Church of England premises or suffer punishment.  800 or so out of the 5000 population of two towns attended that barn, others went elsewhere.  Essex always a home for dissent. 

   

There is a reason small blue flowers abound at this time, but I canny recall what it is!  Hopefully some clever geezer can explain.  However I love them, the brighten up any garden, roadside, or park area.  The cannot do much about the social websites activity re the Boston murders however.  This was both good and bad, I was amazed at how many were identifying the bad guys from studying the many pictures taken at the time the bombs went off.  That got me thinking about the good and bad use therefof re social sites.  On this occasion it was somewhat helpful, limiting the possibility of the baddies hiding, and once identity was known information flooded the web.  This could be helpful however some control is required here.  In a gun toting land like the States too many are tempted to become 'Bounty Hunters' for a moments glory, this could lead to more innocents getting hurt or the wrong folks getting caught.  Already one Saudi was grabbed because he was acting 'suspicious,' as a local hero jumped to conclusions about those who planted the bomb.  His name was plastered over the web, the newsrooms, and TV, he was innocent of any crime!   This time social media helped corner the bombers quickly, next time it could all go badly wrong.  Mind you, I check the local police Twitter account hoping I recognise someone pictured there, but so far I've been unlucky.

I confess I did not take this stunning picture of the Horsehead Nebula.  This came via the 'Daily Mail' re the NASA Hubble Telescope.  This is a fantastic picture of the dust blowing around in Orion.  1300 light years away and we get this close up!  Watch the short video if you can at the bottom of the 'Mail' article.  Not sure how accurate the DM piece happens to be, but the video is genuine enough.

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Typical!

Having watched the sun bringing out the brightness of the Daffodils opposite I left the lair and crossed the park.  Naturally ahead the looming clouds turned deepest black and soon pelted forth the rain.  This led me into several shops to avoid this and as I sauntered back home, behind the passing cloud I was amazed at the formation thereof.  Because of the telephone wires, trees and houses forcing their way into the picture I fail to capture the extent of the range of cloud above.

The world continues as always.  MP's are back to backstabbing, the Boston Bomber is found on several pictures (in which he is different in each), a huge Fertiliser factory explodes in Texas, that of course was the material in many of the IRA bombs, and every day crime, trauma, and half truths fill the media.  Read any newspaper from 50, 100 or any time before this and the stories stay the same, only the style varies.  Life does not change much.  What is has been and what was will be again as they say.

Just like the clouds I suppose....

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Thatcher Departs

The daffodils enhance a rather dreich morning.  Few other signs of Spring, let alone Summer, have been seen around here.  I blame global warming!  In spite of my intense suffering I, who happen to be one who rarely complains, continued on with my duties with no complaints whatsoever.  What?....oh!

The morning was spent with the BBC coverage of Maggies funeral in the background.  Now usually funerals force people to face up to the issues of life and death, let alone the personal grief of family and close friends.  However the somewhat overblown pomp and ceremony took away much from the funeral itself.  The arrangements for this were begun after talks between Tony Blair, then Prime Minister, and Margaret herself.  It appears, rightly or wrongly, David Cameron has added to this somewhat, like PMs do, for political reasons.  Not only does he wish to be associated with her he wishes her fans, the voters in the southern counties, to see him as a natural follower of her ideas.  They will not do this I'm afraid!  4000 police involved, and such pomp, including the Queen, calls for much security, several hundred from the armed forces, their employment criticised by many, and a somewhat strange ceremonial service overall.  The cost, not yet released as it ought to be, around £10 million! 

I found the ceremonial somewhat strange. (That's three times I've said 'somewhat!')  Why was she taken to the RAF church for a service with no-one in attendance?  What was the point of that with St Paul's filling up?  One thing is for sure, these events showed the difference between real Christianity and the church of England!  No wonder they fuss about irrelevant issues.  An event like this is not time to discuss the failings of the deceased but to concentrate on the better side.  This certainly surprised many!  One after another spoke of how nice she had been to them, and spoke sincerely at that.  Quite what you would expect.  As indeed where the words from the Bishop of London, a man who knows how to keep in with the best I think.  

This occasion brings together many heads of state and their representatives from all over the world.  What a headache ensuring the man from Iran does not sit next to the man from Iraq.  By placing the leader of Israel beside the man from Palestine an interesting event may have taken place.  The Argentinians helpfully did not appear.  I was interested in how they coped with sitting there for so long, waiting for the queen, waiting for the body, waiting for the service.  To hear David Cameron read a passage from the bible with little understanding of what he was saying was a treat!  I wonder how they all regard such times?  Does the pomp bore them?  Do they like to be important actors at this time?  The Queen mother I suspect would have been worrying about her racehorse at such moments.

This went on all morning, with more in the late afternoon as the coffin went to the crematoria for a private cremation.  Quite right too!  That is the moment the family can be themselves at last.  Was Thatcher worthy of such a funeral?  Clement Atlee changed the world in a more positive manner after the war yet when he died nothing like this occurred.  He would have opposed that anyway.  Thatcher brought much division, partly through changing many things that required change, partly through the hardness of heart that blamed those that suffered for suffering!  Especially while many lost jobs and her friends lined their pockets, just ask a banker or someone in a privatised utility!  All premiers deserve a respectful end, with no-one 'booing' as a handful did today.  How can anyone 'boo' a funeral?  Disgraceful!  This was indeed overblown and not required, and greatly over the top cost wise.  However it has been done now, life returns to normal, and we are left with this motley lot, none of them with her ability however warped, running the show.  We ought to mourn for us today, not her! 

  

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A Furtherance of Bliss.....

Yesterday morn, long before the milkman had gone back to the depot, I was out on the bike and whizzing slowly around town.  After this I strode purposefully around for bread then tidied up the area in the front of the building.  Well I shoved it all onto the street for the council to remove, same thing.  My beefcake like torso then done the laundry, by flinging it in the machine, I no longer use the pond in the gardens, and after a microwaved cheese omelette I cleaned the cooker.  Almost all of this was finished before 9 am.  I tidied up, moved one or two things around, had lunch and fell asleep.

When I awoke I was knackered!  Since then all has gone wrong.  I lost interest in anything, the 'things to do' list was dropped in the bin, accidentally, there was nothing on the telly, the papers were full of Thatcher, no emails arrived offering money, and my dinner was rotten!  Moving the indoor aerial caused the picture to wobble and now I cannot get the thing back whence it was!  Life returned to normal then?  Today I wandered around for bread, some fat git had eaten all yesterdays already, had a bath and deafened myself!  The warm water has loosened the wax I thought was beginning to show in my ear and now my hearing is dulled.  Naturally the cure is a bottle of 'Otex' from the friendly chemist.  How wrong can you be?  He was not around, his friendly staff have gone, I was confronted with a menopausal woman playing jobsworth.  Having mentioned I was going deaf I asked for the stuff, "Is it for you?" she asked!  As I could hardly make out what she was saying I almost missed that.  It went downwards from there.  By the time I left I was less worried about not being able to see properly, (going deaf does that while not wearing glasses affects the hearing) but more concerned as to how to dispose of the body.

Daily Record

The only good news came from the SPL rejecting the absurd new league setup.  Mr Milne of Aberdeen was apoplectic about this, especially as two teams in the voting system (11-1 required for change) voted against change.  He did not indicate why he voted in similar fashion at his friend Celtics bidding last time the voting system was debated, but there you are.  St Mirren and Ross County have done us a favour, whatever the money men say. Any system in which four Old Firm games are required to keep clubs going is not good for the long term.  Mr Milne, who apparently has dumped many of his employees lately for selfish reasons, may be upset, the fans however are pleased.  Not that he would care.

CNN

A bomb explodes and so does the speculation.  Three obvious culprits come to mind, a mad individual, although two bombs may be to much for one, white supremacists, remember Oaklahoma?  The main contender will be what we now call 'Islamist' groups.  I wonder if it was, and why?  There are many reasons, US activities abroad, men sitting in Arizona dropping bombs from drones on Pakistani children, and a general dislike of the US.  It happens here also, four more are on trial in the UK for bomb plotting, most info apparently coming from other Muslims. The US will soon work out who was responsible, the make up of the bomb will show this, and the allies will hopefully bring it to an end quickly.  

  
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Jings it's HOT!

Jings! Crivvens and help ma boab!  It was hot today!  Yes indeed when I was trundling around on the filthy bike the sky was that colour, more or less.  Blue with white vapor trails and very high white clouds spreading out way overhead.  The sun shone brightly as I rode carefully over the broken glass left by wee boys practicing their beer drinking and I felt the sun on my face, not just warm, but hot!  My face feels this yet!  Jings, Hoots man and help ma boab, summer has arrived.

This was the scene at sevenish this morning.  The blue sky, a bit lighter than in the picture, filled with vapour trails from rich people travelling the world or returning from their Easter break.  A very busy time for air traffic control last night it seems.  Why do so many flights occur at such daft times?  Is it just to annoy people living near the airport?

Not that I took time to sit in the sun and read books as I would like, I had to carefully burn my chicken, watch the Dundee United (called Dundee by the English 5Live girl this morning, United Kingdom is it?) versus Celtic semi final, another excellent game spoiled only by Celtic scoring a winning goal in extra time.  Then I got on the bike for 20 minutes after which I was forced to watch most of the English semi-final between two teams, I forget who, they all look the same to me, while stuffing a pizza I found in the freezer down my throat.  (I cooked it first!)

So that's almost another football season finished already.  As I passed I noticed the park has removed the goalposts indicating the wee leagues season has stopped.  No doubt cricket and golf, then the drivel that is tennis will fill the airwaves instead of proper sport.  However if the sun shines like it did today with the warm air bringing heat up from the Med area, then I will jump on a bus or two and see the world, nearby.      

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Some Days......

Some days nothing goes right.  The whole week has been like this.  The bug has dampened my planet sized brain (and can I just remind you Pluto is no longer regarded as a planet), writing, studying, thinking, reading have all been strenuous this week.  However today I arose after six to sun shining across the park, I must stop sleeping on this bench, and soon wandered around to the market for the veg.  Two cheerless market men sold me the goods once again, and a third avoided smiling as he overcharged me for the next plastic bag of urgent supplies.  These men originate in London and carry the 'London effect' with them wherever they go.  There is something about the city that takes away humanity from the individual, and London specialises in this.  I suspect it was the same in Rome, with its million inhabitants, and five thousand years ago in Ur of the Chaldees I suspect smiling in the heat of the day while pushing through the 65,000 inhabitants of the mud brick city was difficult then also.  Funnily enough many villages find difficulty in smiling or being friendly also.  Inbreeding and fear of people who do not possess six fingers on each hand I suspect there.  North of Watford people tend to be more open, the small triangular corner based on Watford, spreading out along the south coast of Essex to Southend, and south through Surrey to the coast, contains the most off-hand and pig ignorant people in these islands.  I am glad to be just outside that area, here folks are almost normal, usually.

The day could have been a happy one however, but this ended in despair.  By half time in the Scottish Cup Semi-Final lowly Falkirk were three goals to nil up against Hibernian.  Did I splutter and giggle while meditating on things to say to my Hibby friends?  YES!  However then the sad days returned.  Not only did the 'wee team' recover and score three miserable goals to make the result 3-3 by full time, but in extra time the Leith scruffs went on to score a stormer of a winner thereby robbing Falkirk of a cup final and ensuring Hibernian once again attend Hampden park in May for another anti-climax!  To cap it all I sauntered out for a break between games and it rained half way round.  Now I expect my tea to be rubbish, Wigan to lose to Millwall in the English cup semi final, and the internet connection to disappear once again as it did yesterday for no good reason.  'TalkTalk' sort yourselves out!  Bah!

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UK Cartoonists tell it like it is.

© Steven Camley of The Herald

© Peter Brookes of The Times

FrankBoyle@boylecartoon

© Dave Brown of The Independent

Matt

© Dave Brown of The Independent

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Word Polis

Charles Green, the rabble rousing Rangers chairman, has upset the press and the chattering classes by admitting he refers to his Asian friend as 'Paki,' in routine banter.  Naturally the press are full of mock shock!

So how come 'Paki' is so offensive when it is mere shorthand for 'Pakistani?'  It was not offensive in the early 70's, except when used on Mr Khayam, "I'm Indian, not a bloody Paki," this very large customer would exclaim.  As he spent much money we always bowed to his wishes.  If he is not a millionaire by now he must be dead.  In the late 60's a habit arose in parts of England, spreading elsewhere later, for young men to shave their head and wear large 'Dr Marten's' boots.  Such of a rough nature would roam the streets, find an innocent Asian and use their boots to give him a good kicking.  Social workers and PC PC's today may imply these (usually) young men had little chance in life.  Others thought them a bunch of thugs.  Young men have to prove themselves and this leads to sometimes violent fisticuffs.  In other cases it means random violence against anyone you consider worthless, an enemy, or weak.  Therefore this habit of 'Paki bashing,' or 'Bovver boot dancing,' as it was sometimes called became a subject for the media to decry, although they printed the stories, plus pictures, on as many pages as they could.  From this white, middle class Guardian readers decided that the word 'paki' was racist and insisted it be outlawed.  

Today such 'word police' have added a great many other words which they, with no mandate from the free world, have decided are bad.  Those who disagree are shouted down and suffer the use of violent names being thrown at them, although such terms are acceptable to the thought police funnily enough.  But calling a Chinese 'Chinky,' cannot be any more offensive than calling a Scotsman 'Jock.'  However a worrying trend has now appeared, some Scots claim to be offended if called 'Jock!'  How can this be?  Scots soldiers, usually called 'Jock,' wear the term with pride, why then does some wee boy, educated by PC teachers with little understanding of the world or her own nature, find such a term offensive?  

In itself there is nothing offensive about any of these terms, however some folks wish to be offended, or wish to improve their 'community' (whatever that is) in the eyes of the world.  The use of any term that someone dislikes clearly must be avoided unless you intend to annoy them, but I find it strange how easily today people are 'offended' by words perfectly acceptable yesterday.  What changed?  Human nature has not changed, it is ever the same, it must be fashion, it certainly isn't a sense of 'love' for your neighbour.  If these PC people really wished to 'love their neighbour' they would not jump on the bandwagon of attacking Charles Green, their is sufficient reason to do this from a factual football point of view already.  If words considered unacceptable are banned why are so many other vile words considered acceptable, and who are you to decide?  Loving your neighbour does not mean using words they dislike, and Green's use of such in banter with a friend, who may use worse in response, is none of our business.  Generation gaps make a difference here as this minor fault in my eyes is a great fault in those under 35, reflecting they way they have been educated, and those who educate them.  'Train up a child in the way he should go and he will not depart from it,' even if he is taught incorrectly.  Few break away and think for themselves most of us hide behind the 'herd instinct' and do not wish to be different  that could cause trouble.  Thoughtfulness for another is easy enough, but jumping on a PC bandwagon is fun for many.

We go through fashions constantly.  Today political correctness, however you understand it, rules the world.  Tomorrow another fad will arise and much spouted by the chattering classes will fall from favour.  The spirit of the air deceives us to our face and we see it not. 

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Eternal Judgement Awaits us All.

Do I take any pleasure in the death of the wicked? declares the Sovereign LORD. 

Rather, am I not pleased when they turn from their ways and live?

 Ezekiel 18:23  NIV

Morning Sunshine

Just after half past six this morning, when the world was mostly asleep, I pedaled out against the rising sun to continue my building photo project.  Trying this yesterday was a bit silly as far too many people thought they had a right to get in my way.  These thoughtless people dog me everywhere!  Too be honest many were considerate in avoiding me, something those living in London would not understand.  Taking pictures in London is not helped by others, they just get in the way.  Few rise as early as I, even the kids stay indoors to watch the early morning repeat of 'Match of the Day' from the previous evening.  Occasional others walked or cycled past, wrapped up against the still chilly east wind.  A van draws up near the supermarket, the passenger jumps out, rushes to the store door and drops a bundle, newspapers, at the door and returns to the van and they speed off to the nest.  The council driver goes back and forth over the rubbish left from yesterdays market, the brushes under his vehicle sweeping its catch into the machine.  A wet line two feet thick is left after he passes, glinting in the sun.  The sun reflects of his grubby windscreen and the beeping each time he reverses, which he does constantly, echoes around the empty market square.  An unsmiling man saunters past unwillingly, his dog however is evidently enjoying himself as the tail wags and his eyes glint.  The 133 bus noisily passes by, heading near empty for Stansted airport, high above a departing plane leaves Stansted for distant places, another, much higher, cuts the bright blue with a shining white vapour trail. I trundle about the square meanwhile, attempting to picture buildings that refuse to fit themselves into the picture frame.  What a daft place to put buildings!

This tramping around, I took some 85 shots this morning, is good for my fitness I suppose, it must be according to my aches, and it took my mind of the strange events that have afflicted the laptop.  I say laptop but I mean this browser, the others appear untouched by the blip.  The other day I noticed the adverts were appearing on Facebook.  I use Adblock so there ought to be none.  Adblock had gone!  Vanished for no reason.  This was replaced, normality returned.  The next day all was as usual.  However when I logged in during the afternoon I was not presented with 'Google' on the browser, but 'Yahoo!'  Not only but also the bookmarks bar had gone.  The Google warning re email had also disappeared, as had other extensions.  What is going on?  After some fiddling all has returned, bar the email warning, that means I keep forgetting to look for mail the hard way.  I have run all the anti bad guy things but nothing shows.  All seems well now, bar my nerves.

What a strange fountain this is, quite why it was made this way I know not.

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Sunny Saturday

First thing most Saturdays I am round here attempting to find fruit and veg that will keep my slim lithe fifteen and a half stone.  I have been attempting to lose weight, especially when it touched 16 stone again recently and have decided a more disciplined routine is required.  This means less home made oatcakes, flapjacks and shortbread.  The trouble with such goodies is the tendency to be fattening, especially as I tend to eat them all, quickly!  So once again I was at the markets best fruit and veg stall seeking the weeks supply.  Bananas, apples, small orange things, and so on.  Naturally, as I settled down to watch the football on BBC Alba I was stuffing my face with chips!  

Well I was hungry......

Wandering about in the early morning sunshine, the wind still from Siberia, I photographed some buildings for the house project.  Amongst Grade II listed buildings we find this telephone box.  Designed by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott in 1935 and produced by a variety of manufacturers, these are fast disappearing from our streets.  The use of mobile phones, plus the majority of homes possessing land lines, such boxes are falling out of use and into disrepair.  Many have gone altogether but surely there is a need for a few to remain?  This is a very thin picture because the box now sits in the midst of scaffolding as the 'Swan' pub is repainted. Otherwise it would stand out from the pub which may  have stood here for seven hundred years.  

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Laff

I saw a car the other day with a sticker on the back which read,

 "I miss Glasgow."

So I broke the window, stole the radio, nicked two tyres and left a note that read,

 "I hope this helps!"

Old Hooses

I've spent the day sorting out the pictures of town houses and lining them up with the 'Listed Buildings' list.  I wonder who decides what is listed?  Some years ago a TV show followed a lass wandering about listing buildings, but what training had she?  What authority to decide? This is important as a listed building requires authority to amend or repair.  Almost all here are Grade II but some houses, especially those of specific interest, must be kept as they are, this costs money!  I suppose a council employee must be the one given this charge, but the thought crossed my mind today that I have no idea who is responsible.  The door above is in good enough condition but my eye noticed the letterbox is quite large, normal size, and that is unusual on such an old property.  That could lead to instructions to replace the door as before, at your own cost, or even a fine I suspect.

The lack of stone meant the use of timber frames and plaster for house building.  The walls are often decorated with designs such as the one above, which I cannot recall where I found the thing!   This is a small one, some houses have large designs from the distant past which are well worth a look.  Whether there was a pattern to these or whether the were done just as someone's fancy took them I know not, but they are excellent.  

   

I wonder if this was an actual gas lamp in days of yore?  Knowing this town it may have been gas until recently.  Still, it helps improve the looks of the pub where it may have shone for many years.  Or not as the case may be.    

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Easter Aftermath

So Easter has come and gone.  The BBC as usual has offered a mixture of bland religious offerings, bar Melvyn Bragg's nonsensical programme supposedly based on Mary Magdalene.  Easter eggs have abounded once again, my collection somewhat less than my teeth hoped for, Tesco's et al will no doubt be offering some cheap tomorrow and storing others for next year.  Rubbish bags will be overflowing with coloured silver paper and dentists waiting rooms soon to be filled with frightened children.

Those same frightened children are also skipping school for a week or so.  This means fathers bring their children into the museum, are seen kicking a ball in the park with them, families meander through shopping centres,and groups of the little horrors are filling the streets, yelling, shouting and blocking the pavements.  While the behaviour in the skatepark is reasonable enough just now adolescents swarm like locusts in buses, shops, and anywhere normally used by decent people.  As I carried my weakened bug stained body through Tescos searching for bread I noticed gangs of wee brats everywhere.  If this is meant to be a holiday, where is the holiday from children I ask?

This man, Ian Duncan Smith, the secretary for the Department for Work and Pensions, earns £134,565.  He has been responsible for the amendments to the welfare state and the general oppression of the poor, the weak and anyone who cannot fight back.  Today he claims he could live on £53 a week "if I had to."  Some 250,000 people have demanded via an online petition that he attempts this for one week.  His reply is that he has done it already, twice having been unemployed.  He does not indicate how much dole he received  plus child allowance and other benefits, all of which indicate he is lying in his teeth.  

According to Wikipedia he is not unused to misinformation. Please refer to their tale for details of his education half truths.  His employment record does not inspire and that includes his failure as Leader of his party!  He has certainly been unemployed twice, so have I, and I struggled on both occasions.  The whole idea of publicising welfare payments is less to do with cutting the cost, certainly nothing to do with 'fairness,' but everything to do with encouraging middle England to vote for them by stigmatising the unemployed.  Call them 'scroungers' and the employed 'hard working families' (a Bill Clinton trick) and divide and rule.  Misuse of figures helps here.  This will get worse in the next few months as the Tory Party embarrass Ed Milliband on welfare.

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News Today

On this April Fools Day the news offered to us via screaming headlines and chattering voices informs us, to some extent, that the Conservative Party's vain attempt to amend the 'Welfare State' is once again under way.  Having spent the past few years informing 'Middle England' that all on benefit were scroungers, that the vast majority of those on sickness benefit were fit for work and that those on housing benefit had plenty more cash than those working, a state of divisive hate has arisen between those poorly paid ion work and those on benefit.

A note on language here.  We used to refer to 'Social Security,' a system that secured the individual from poverty, starvation and homelessness, whether through unemployment, sickness or other outside situation.  Now we used the word 'Welfare,' an American term that implies all such are lazy scroungers.  A small but important use of language encouraged by the Tory press.

There are, and have always been, people deliberately refusing to work while claiming as much as they could get for nothing.  Liverpool and Glasgow know much of this.  However the fact remains that the near three million unemployed would take suitable work tomorrow if it was on offer!  Where I ask are such jobs?  The Tory's claim a million have found work, but the vast majority are part time, and then on minimum wage.  Refusal to accept such work, even if highly qualified elsewhere, is not an option given by this government of millionaires who would never dirty their hands by working.  Ian Duncan Smith never stacked shelves when he was twice unemployed!

The amendments to the Social Security budget is merely an attempt to cut the bill, understandably, and get the 'Daily Mail' reader to vote Conservative by encouraging a hatred of benefit seekers and a false promise of tax cuts.   Sadly as so many middle classes now find themselves claiming dole money I fear this will not be successful,  especially as both Dave and George have missed many opportunities to improve the nation and instead turned it into a liberal ghetto, losing their core voters while doing so.  

The Labour Party?  Ed Milliband will follow a similar course.  After all Labour began the use of the ATOS company to weed out those fit for work from those genuinely unfit.  The money made by declaring an individual fit ensured many, whether missing limbs or mentally sick, were declared fit, in spite of the vast majority winning appeals backed up by medical records.  The sick in Afghanistan get better care.  Labour offer nothing, and it is Ed's fault.

'The welfare reforms' have been badly thought out, rushed through, and incompetently handled.  IDS will still insist they work however. and work is something he has never managed successfully before.

Not only, but also the Tory plan for selling off the NHS has taken another step forward today.Since the days of the vile Thatcher women destroying the nation the NHS has been under threat.  To save the taxpayer a penny, and earn votes for herself, she began to sell the NHS, that failed, but only just.  All governments since have puzzled how to maintain a free health system while cutting the ever increasing costs, all have failed.  On the same day that a failed reorganisation of the Social Security is introduced the government introduce a revamped NHS.  In theory doctors will control the spending, in practice it will do nothing for patient care, and fail to stop the overspending.  Hamfisted and ideologically led the overhaul will be amended by the next Labour government, quite how we await with anticipation.   Not exactly eager anticipation I must say. The Labour Party has nothing to offer but Tory failings, and that is not enough.

The biggest news however, according to the number of times it has been mentioned on the news, is David Milliaband's resignation as a director of Sunderland Football Club because they have chosen to sign Paulo Di Canio as manager.  Di Canio, an unstable character, was recently fired from lower division Swindon Town, but is seen as the man to fire up Sunderland as they fight the danger of relegation and all that means.

Now Milliband's problem is not a football one. No sensible Premier club would appoint this man Di Canio.  Let me give an example of his character.  While playing for Celtic some years back he won a penalty kick, probably rightly.  He took the penalty, he scored the penalty, then he, not they, he began to argue with the Heart of Midlothian defenders.  He got sent off!  Rarely do Celtic players get sent off, rarely does any player get sent off for winning and scoring a penalty kick!

David Milliband objects however not to the nature of the man but to his politics.  Italian football is very politically motivated.  Silvio Berlusconi, when not running his TV stations, bouncing around on young women, or even in one of his court appearances owns A.C.Milan, one of Europe's premier football teams.   In Rome Lazio, who Di Canio played for, represent the right wing in Italian politics.  All other teams have leanings one way or another, something which makes overall control of football in Italy very difficult for any government, and Italy has had lots of them  since the war.

Di Canio famously used the Fascist right arm salute during one game, for reasons I know not, and gained much opprobrium for doing so.  Whatever his reasons, I forget those now, it matters not.  This, especially in the left leaning press, was a great evil and a wonderful way to fill space.  He has never been allowed to forget this.  David Milliband has resigned he says, because of this man's political beliefs.  Is he right to do so?  Is he telling the truth?

I cannot stop dealing with people because of their political beliefs, to do so would be 'undemocratic.'  For Milliband to resign because the manager appears to support Mussolini is likewise 'undemocratic,' and somewhat over the top.  However let us remember that David has also resigned from the Labour Party and taken a job in the USA leading an 'International Charity,' for which incidentally he will be paid some £200,00 a year.  During the past year he has already, it has been claimed, received almost a million in payments for his 'other projects.'  Not bad for a man who failed to become the popular leader of the Labour Party because of the Unions choosing his more amenable brother.   

David has made a splash here.  This news has gone worldwide.  His stand against fascism and Nazism is clear.  What is also clear is that when Ed, his brother and present leader of the Labour Party fails to ensure a decisive defeat of this shoddy government then David will return as the great white hope, ascending from the Americas to the delight of the desperate Labour accolites and then lead them into a brave new world.

Aye, he cares about fascism right enough.

It is an interesting aside that while the dangers and horrors of Fascism, as seen during the 20th century, are real enough the dangers and horrors of the left as noted under Communism are less dangerous in some eyes.  The chattering classes in the UK, that is the middle class socialists, not those that have to work and get their hands dirty socialists, lean to the left while paying lip service to the wrongs of Stalin or Mao, Pol Pot or Castro.  Dictatorship is OK if we do it apparently.  I must add that the first to object to living  under such a system as run by those men would be the chattering classes.  Their left wing approach is to let them dictate to others, while keeping their wealth, and demand their rights to progress while pretending to themselves that they do this for everyone.  The Blairite Milliband flying to his wealthy abode in new York has laid his plans to possess the vote of such as they.  While pandering to middle England he will soon be pandering, from afar, to the Guardian reader.  Both share a delight in their money, both vote accordingly.

The people?  They know their place, and the news agenda is fixed by their betters to ensure they keep it. 

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Easter Morn

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