The Other Big Town Trip.

From the window of the five past eight bus this morning I snapped as well as I could the sun shining on the local harvest.  One problem city dwellers (Known as 'Townies') fail to comprehend is the delay caused by a tractor wending its merry way to the next field along.  While farmer Jones is contemplating his profit, added to by the generous EU, CAP which is why he is merry, the vehicles behind are filled with smouldering folks who were not in a hurry when they set out.  The trail behind a vehicle dropping lumps of mud from his giant tyres can stretch for several miles. Today I smiled benignly at the people in just that position as they were headed in the opposite direction to my bus.  They however did not respond kindly.  There is little to beat sitting upstairs on a near empty bus in the early morning as I am sure you know.  Had I ventured out an hour or so later a bus full of chatting women and screaming brats may well have been my lot.  I also noted that according to my timetable a bus left here every twenty minutes, however a returning bus only departed every thirty minutes!  Three go out and only two return, a mystery indeed. Could there be a depot somewhere with dozens of buses waiting around for their drivers to return I wonder?  This reminds me of the No 8 London bus rescheduling in the late 70's.  The drivers pointed out that had they followed the timetable ALL the buses would be travelling in the same direction at one time!  Tsk!     

The bells of St Peter's well ringing loud as I passed, a peal that went on for quite some time. Possibly they do this regularly as this is one of the Anglo Catholic churches that likes to be part of the town.  The not quite musty interior is lit only by the large window at the far end.  The dim light is sufficient for individuals needs, allowing some privacy in a busy town.  The bells were only heard dimly in this ancient church, which has its own mention in the 'Domesday Book,' would you believe!  The picture may indicate the interior was slightly lighter than it may have been to my eyes.  I find this quiet spot strangely attractive myself.

With a camera in the hand it is important to always look up when in town.   The horrid tardy shop fronts and entrances of today could hide past architectural delights.  Above the dingy entrance I noticed that this once was the 'Grand Theatre,' no doubt home to many great stars, and a few bum ones also, of the past.  Today it appears to be one of those 'clubs' young folks take delight in, although I myself canny remember why.  

Adjoining this theatre is another pub, this time however an interesting looking building that stands on the ground that since the 18th century bore the name 'Lamb Hotel,' although this has been changed many times in recent years.  I suppose there must have been a market nearby and farmers would gather for lunch here.  This present building dates from 1905 and the present owners have not defaced the building thankfully.  Sadly the High Street is a mucky place, not helped by traffic that has to pass through, there is little else that can be done to move it.  This pic does show what lies unseen above our heads.  Look up when out, but look down and ahead first! 

  

On the other side of the street stands the Red Lion Hotel, still operating as such, and with a history dating back to 1495.  The mock Tudor front dates back about 20 years however and quite a lot of pubs do themselves up this way to make themselves look older.  This I suggest is to attract the customer who likes his old buildings to look like his imagination tells him it ought to look!  Ah the teaching of History cannot defeat the wishful thinking of the individual!

On either side of the entrance stands these two gentlemen.  The one on the left appears to be wearing a crown (Henry VII would be King in 1495 followed by Henry VIII) but the other is less discernible.  Maybe he represents one of the town worthies, maybe a traveller, maybe the first or later owner.  I am unclear and find nothing to aid me.

I had to laugh at this sign.  The A120 is the straight road home, called 'Stane Street' after the Romans worked on it some time back, and normal weekly traffic numbers are very high.  The fact that the warning of advance works end with the words, 'Delays Possible,' did make me laugh!

Well might you ask what such dereliction is doing here.  This is a once busy car park at one of those 'out of town' shopping centres.  There are still several major businesses working there but so many have gone that this large car park has become disused and is dying slowly.  What are the chances of the Tories upsurge in the economy of bringing this back to life soon I wonder?  All around this area lies the beginning of development which has ceased since 2008.  I am not sure whether I prefer the wide open acres filled with beasties to the modern empty office blocks that ought to be arising there.  The economy requires it but we need open spaces.  Just passing by these fields, the ancient houses and wondering what life was like for the souls found there in days of yore does take away from the shopping experience that saw all charity shops visited and two books and a handful of birthday cards bought, still no jacket......  

What?  You have had enough?  OK, I will bore you with more later.....

The 'Lyon.'

The magnificent model of the one hundred ton ship the 'Lyon' is housed in the museum in a brightly lit glass case.  This is because in 1632 a large group of individuals from this area with 'Puritan' sympathies joined this ship for a crossing to the New World.  

This afternoon a young couple from somewhere in the USA wandered shyly around the museum, when I enquired as to their opinion the man informed us one of his ancestors had originated in this area.  I indicated a small book which contained names of those who travelled and left them to peruse this.  He discovered two mentions of what turns out to be an illustrious ancestor indeed! How about that!  Here we were confronted with a descendant of and East Anglian who had emigrated 382 years before.  A strange but enjoyable sensation that history lovers will understand.  

Naturally he wished to buy the inexpensive book, well two actually as we are good salesmen and the folks back home in the USA need to read about this man!  Of such small occurrences does life become worthwhile.  Especially as the two girls on duty had no idea about the 'Lyon,' being mostly concerned with the shop side of things.  This is what makes it worthwhile for me.

Stephen hart, their ancestor, sailed indeed on the 'Lyon,' but not in 1632.  His journey began on August the 23rd 1631 with the experienced Ships Master, William Pierce in command.  Pierce had made this journey several times in his ship, a very good ship at that, and had sympathies with the Puritans types aboard.  The voyage across the Atlantic, late in the year, took 72 days, arriving in Nantasket on November the 2nd 1631.  How glad were they to touch land?     

The ship carried 'about' 60 passengers, most on the list headed for a place called 'Cambridge.' However passenger lists appear to mention only half this number.  It is possible only the 'important' people were listed, or the list concerned only those from Essex.  It could also be that servants names were not listed, which shows how egalitarian some Puritans could be!     

The trip could indeed be hazardous and uncomfortable.  The 'Lyon' was a better ship than many and quite a few of those on these trips could afford any cabins or luxury on offer.  All to often however hard tack biscuits and salt beef, if it was beef, was all that was available.  As the current may well send you further back at the end of the day than you were at the beginning and winds tend to make their own minds up passage could be tedious and physically wearing. Water was taken aboard but could lose its benefits after a while due to the containers so most people probably drank beer instead.  Cooking, by braziers, was often dangerous and so cold lunch was the order of the day, not really enjoyable on a mobile ship in October.  Of course any storms tossing the ship about would not encourage hunger but let's not bring that up here.  Sickness was a problem, in a crowded vessel any illness would spread through the ship, both passengers and crew suffering.  

However once on land home awaited.  That is if you could get to it wherever it was.  If food was available, transport, probably walking, and once settled in the winter snows would welcome the weary traveller with freezing cold, storms and more sickness.  It is not a surprise to discover so many did not survive.  

At least you could worship as you desired, unless the others disagreed and you had to move on.......

As for Stephen, he survived the voyage, most appear to have done on that trip, and settled in what was a colony of England at that time, loyal to the King.  His story has been researched Here or Here. 

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Big Town and Wildebeests.

In my desperate search through all the charity shops in the big town, oops! Big City now of course, I hold certain truths to be self evident.  The first being that shops are filled with wildebeests, hundreds of whom appear desirous of deliberately getting in my way, that they block aisles, noisily fill the streets and on occasion serve behind the counters of shops.   On reflection I am now wondering whether that bus driver is related to one also.  Of course it could just be me couldn't it?.  
It is also in my opinion a self evident truth that charity shops stock jackets that are just what I am looking for but in the wrong size or dreadfully wrong colour.  I can understand why some of these have been donated, but whether the owner knows his wife has donated them is another thing.  Mentioning this to the staff of such shops does not bring much of a caring response I noted.  
Another self evident truth is that men are responsible for the layout of department stores.  This is proved by the clear and deliberate carefully thought out policy of placing all lingerie departments next to Menswear!  It took me half an hour, and with the aid of one quite unhelpful security officer, to find my way to the (reduced price) jackets in one shop.  I suppose privatised security services have their place but they ought to be more choosy regarding the women they employ, I will have a bruise there in the morning!  
To escape the stampeding throng I wandered along the canal pathway only to find it also bore the stampeding masses.  Families were being taught by attentive parents how to walk in front of people, talk loudly and generally get in the way of those attempting to make a photograph on a gray day.  How lucky Scots are today, their schools have gone back!

Some folks found that by hiding themselves in the abundant wilderness they remained generally undisturbed by those passing by.  Whether he caught much I doubt, a quick glance in the water showed only small fry lurking and not many of them.  Still it is a place to relax and allow the stresses of life to desist for a period and the mind can refresh itself with the flora and fauna around.  Strange they way we respond to people.  Had I sat there for an hour or so some folks would have thought I a bit crazy or a bit dangerous, single men being regarded this way because they are alone for some reason.  There again a single woman may not be regarded as 'dangerous' but how would people see her I wonder?  Anyway stick a fishing rod in the hands and the man becomes safe as he is just fishing and for the most part will be ignored.   Of course this man may just be hiding the fact he shoved his wife in earlier.....

  
On the way to meet up again with the cheery bus driver and hopefully none of the men loudly telling one another of their hip replacements and other injuries I perused the main library and decided I need to spend time there soon as I noticed it has some interesting, relevant books I would like to investigate.  All those things I wish to do yet little gets done.  I have a list a mile long of things to do, things I wish to do, things I must do and things that probably will need doing, but I canny be bothered.  
Today for instance I get two calls asking me into the museum to replace sick folks and there l am acting as zoo keeper miles away.  I will be in there tomorrow afternoon although the walking today did my knees no good at all and I would rather just lie about for a while.  Hopefully I can just sit there dealing with the often unusual and interesting questions that people bring.  There was a time I would walk around for hours, now an hour or so and the postman's knees play up and that is a real sickner.
As I crossed the road from the library, having obtained my dinner from the cheap butcher next door to the barbers, one Mr Todd I think the name above read, my eye caught sight of this emblem on the wall.  Once the entry to who knows what, probably the old town hall and offices, now the back end of a car park, the wall carries the county emblem ending its days in some degree of obscurity.  All behind has been demolished and the car park might remain or become part of whatever development is being erected there.  Hopefully this wall will be retained as the emblem looks good and ought to be carefully refurbished.

 
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Lazy Blogging

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PR Stunts and Emptiness.

Cameron is at it again I see.  With UKIP folk making a fool of themselves in 'Bongo Bongo land' the PR man has spent much of his holiday in PR stunts attempting to win back the favour of his lost voters.  The Conservative Party has apparently shed thousands of members during his time. He has turned up in the paper almost daily spouting 'vows' and 'promises,' each one assuring that 'he will...' or that 'something is done.'  Lies, all lies.  He is very into 'Fracking' today so I suspect he is suffering 'dropsy' of some sort, a terrible disease.  Asking people in the south of England to think of the 'good of the country,' and accept his friends 'fracking' is pushing it I say. I understand the councillors who allowed this project in the south to go ahead may have connections with the company involved, allegedly.  Cameron of course lives in the Cotswolds, far away from the work.  
Those phone in programmes dominated  by the lonely, the desperate and members of parliament seeking attention have also drawn him in.  He has called in to earnestly support gays in Russia, yet would not withdraw from the athletics there obviously, rebuke Spain and spout about any subject of the day.   Did it make a difference?  Only to his party members, or at least to those in his office. The Norwegian PM took to driving a taxi to meet the people, I canny see Dave following suit, he would get a fair idea of what the public really think.  I suspect they would be less genteel than the friendly Norwegians!  Today the PR was attacking the weakest once again.  Ian Duncan Smith, that cretinous worm of a man, once again wishes to point out that all the welfare budget goes on scroungers!  He does this by finding 4000 who he claims are earning £23, 000 a year from handouts and he will end this, his figures are of course disputable.  Total baloney but the Daily mail reader is happy enough.  He claims his policies have saved million from the welfare budget but does not show how, nothing new for IDS that.  He still claims all the expenses he can doesn't he?  IDS once claimed a £39 breakfast on expenses, and a £9 cocktail while still in opposition. Sadly this was rejected!
All this is to win back the Tories ready to defect to UKIP, the party the Tories claim is full of 'swivel eyed loons.'  While they are not wrong they are not really in a position to criticise are they?  I suppose it stops questions arising re tax dodging friends and the latest news that the recession (is it called this?) will last at least three more years or until 750,000 are taken from the dole queues.  Fabulous!  By the time so many have got jobs or retired there will be a million more on the dole, the futures bright eh?
Where are the opposition while this is going on?  Not to be seen anywhere!  One Labour female, who got her job because of her sex, waffled on about something the other day but I cannot remember what she said.  She will go far in the Labour Party.  Ed Milliband is writing his speech for the conference which follows the holidays.  It is make or break time for him. If he fails to deliver he may well be ejected, and that will be no loss, but what will replace him?  There is nothing left in Labour's box, merely a collection of middle class Oxbridge types with less idea of what the world requires than Cameron has.  The future is indeed bright, but not here.  What a mess we are in and no-one knows what to do.  The truth however, is out there!

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Happy Sunday

Racing along against the wind at four miles an hour I passed through this village long before the world was awake.  The roads round here all possess the normal road signs but English towns and villages always have a signpost informing you of the village name and indicating what the place is all about. There is not a lot of anything but agriculture in this area and the sign indicates a tractor to reflect this.  In fact a dirty great combine machine was being led along the roads as I passed indicating harvest is here for someone.  The land in this area probably saw hunter gatherers and stone age farmers and has been farmed continually for around five thousand years.  The small church reflects the population has never been huge, the church itself replacing a Saxon one most likely built on a pagan spot, and the huge tithe barn (one of two) shown in the top left was erected during the 13th century by the Knights Templar.  A ten percent tithe had to be given to the church and was collected in such barns, the money raised supporting the Crusades. The church of those times being full of politically powerful men, and the occasional Christian.  A similar, slightly smaller barn sits in Coggeshall a few miles down the road near where a Priory once stood.  Some strange rules concerning ancient church law still exists in English Law and occasionally people complain that a tax must be paid towards upkeep of church buildings they do not use.  The wheat and barley that once filled the barns are still grown in abundance but rarely are animals seen near here, at least not since the Foot and Mouth outbreak of a few years ago.  I did however attempt to photograph a Hare that came close, but he left too quickly for me, and the crows hovering around and the Swifts on the wire were too far away for my wee camera.  Such fauna and flora seen today would have been, mostly, common in the days of the Templars (or Hospitallers who replaced them).  However the servants would not have had the time to observe them I suspect.  One morning I will sit and wait for the wildlife, unless I get lifted of course.   

There is a Victoria Cross in the middle of the sign and I am sure there is a man in the graveyard who obtained one during the 19th century.  So far I have failed to discover anything about him!  I canny even remember his name!

Cressing Temple  Cressing Temple Site

Not all signs are as well made as the town one but these road signs must go back many years.  I suspect these were erected in the twenties or thirties when car driving became more widespread, certainly among the middle classes. Morris, Austin and others produced cars aplenty and these were happily acquired by those able to move out of the centre of big cities into the three bedroomed detached or semi-detached homes that burgeoned during that time. The signs were removed during the war to confuse any enemy that invaded but probably confused the indigenous population more. The commuters between the wars would travel to work by train into the city centre and at weekends roam the country in the 'Baby Austin,' at least that was the idea.  Mind you there were more people killed on the roads in those days than there are now, which tells you something!

The cats expression tells you he is not sure about this photography business. He is not one to venture near people, this one keeps his own counsel, but insists on spending all day wandering about the area around his home, usually disdainfully keeping clear of all comers.  As I got home I found him soaking up the sun and he is none to pleased about this.  His owner, if you own cats that is, takes her two small dogs to the park early in the morning and this brute hates to be left behind.  He will trail slowly up the road behind them, occasionally crossing the road to the park itself.  This gives the poor woman the collywobbles naturally enough, and the only time the cat has let me touch it was when I attempted to stop her following them over the road.  The cat just wants to be with the dogs but one day that road might make an end of her/him/it.  

Having risen early to cycle around to enable the bulk to develop physique, health and energy I was fast asleep within an hour of returning.  However I woke in time to watch the youthful, inexperienced, enthusiastic, talented and good looking Heart of Midlothian defeat the experienced, dull, inept, ugly, aged Hibernian side.  For some reason this victory was unexpected by the media, who wanted to talk about the sinister Glasgow sides instead and yet each and every intelligent viewer of the game knew this would be a victory for the Hearts.  The Heart of Midlothian have so many victories over the 'wee team' that by winning all the next games it will take them thirty or more years to catch up, and that's not going to happen is it?  It's been a good day today.

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Saturday Entertainment

Summer Saturdays in small market towns brings out the varied entertainments that are on offer. The word 'entertainment,' depends on your age, openness and indeed desperation!   Here we see the 'Rock Choir' doing their thing.  A large group of "cough" 'young' folks who clearly enjoy such activity.  In my mind they were more 'Middle of the Road Pop,' but had they been headbanging, screaming guitar, long haired musical types they would not be appearing here in the middle of town.  The word 'Rock,' is used in a variety of ways these days.  Enjoyed by their audience, and clearly enjoying themselves also this appeared a marvellous way to pass the afternoon if this is your kind of thing.  

Yobs Youth were offered activities in the park, guarded by the St John's Ambulance Brigade, but it would not have done much for me in my day I must say.  What isn't shown is the 'Bucking Bronco.'  This is a machine that acts like the rodeo cow.  The rider climbs aboard and this spins this way and that throwing them off.  Sadly no necks are broken.  It looks quite deserted, but that's because it was!  

My entertainment was meant to come from the football, but no game that I want is being shown!  It's a disgrace!  Have these people no thought for my needs? 

Well no actually!

Summer Saturday and I am bored!  What a life, good job I am not one to complain......

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Thomas Telford

On this day in 1757 Thomas Telford, canal, road and bridge builder, entered the world at Gelndinning, a rural farm in Dumfriesshire.  His shepherd father died soon after he was born and poverty suffused his early life.  At 14 he was apprenticed to a stonemason later working in Edinburgh before making his way to London in 1782.  Self taught for the most part he was a natural engineer and through William Pulteney he obtained the post of Surveyor of Public Works in Shropshire.  While there he not only renovated many public buildings he also began to erect some forty bridges in Shropshire alone as part of his daily duties.  

In 1793 Telford designed and built the Ellsmere Canal linking Wrexham, Ellsmere and Chester with the Mersey.  This included erecting the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct 126 feet over the River Dee. This engineering marvel is still in regular use today by canal boats.  As Telford's reputation grew his opinion was requested in many spheres, Liverpool water, London Bridge and a twenty year job building the Caledonian Canal to improve communication by sea in the heart of the highlands.  This involved a thousand miles of new roads, another thousand bridges, improvements to harbours at ports throughout Scotland as well as the development of the canal itself.  All this at a time when the Navvy, armed with pick and shovel, completed the work by the sweat of his brow.  The death toll from accident as well as overwork must be enormous.  Alongside all this Telford erected 32 new churches and developed almost 200 miles of road in the south west of Scotland.  This at a time when muddy roads were the norm and transport consisted of foot, horse or coach.  Thomas improved on the development of MacAdam roads, changing the material used to strengthen the road surface.  The churches were paid for by parliament and erected in areas devoid of a place of worship.  £1500 was allowed for each building and Telford's design skillfully reduced the cost to a mere £750.  I wonder how many still exist, possibly as expensive homes today.

Telford constructed roads throughout England and Wales all with their accompanying bridges including the Menai Bridge.  The face of Britain was changed completely when his roads were completed.  Canals, roads, bridges and this was soon followed by the entrance of the Railway age, changing the nation once again in a different manner.  Telford's roads and many bridges however are still in use, many now expanded, improved, but still following the original way. When he was referred to as "The Colossus of Roads," by his friend the poet Robert Southey few would have disagreed!   Late in life he completed St Katherine's Dock next to Tower Bridge in London, a place still full of boats today, tunnels, canals and roads were still in his mind when he died in 1834.  Telford was 77 when he died and had never married.  He left no blood relation and had he married and became surrounded by a family would he ever have completed so many great public works?     

Thomas Telford was so great an engineer that many roads, including one near my home area in Edinburgh, were named after him.  However in Shropshire the new town was called 'Telford' in commemoration of the great man.  Few of us will ever have that accolade!

He was a Scot you know, did I mention this?

Thomas Telford  Caledonian Canal  Ellsmere Canal  Thomas Telford Salopian

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"Each did what was right in his own eyes."

The ancient Hebrews moved into what they called the 'promised land' and once dominance had been secured they settled down into their clan, tribes and family areas.  Years passed and when the grandchildren were reaching maturity the social substance that held them together was beginning to fail.   Those that had fought the fight had gone, the next generation became busy with settling in and the youth had, as usual, their own ideas, the history of arrival taught but less important possibly than daily life.  With leadership failing, the priests failed to ensure the Law was made known and the Levites failed to teach it, each looked after his own interests, soon being drawn into the gods and ways of the remaining Canaanites.  Confusion soon reigned.  Neighbouring nations took over the land until the people realised their mistake and God sent a deliverer.  Several times this occurred but after each deliverance the people resorted to doing their own thing.  The third generation would go the way of their forebears time after time, morals degenerated, crops failed, invaders arrived, social cohesion drifted.

A similar situation ensues today in the west.  Morals today depend on the loudest voice not agreed principles, 'common sense,' an agreed understanding of how to deal with any situation in an obvious manner, is no longer regarded as trustworthy, and while individuality is encouraged 'community' an awful meaningless word much heard of in the media actually lessens as we look after number one. People today can also hide behind colour, sex, age or any other excuse, and take advantage of the political correctness that ruins our life.  There is no agreed 'principle,' each does what is right in their own eyes,' or follows unthinkingly what they have been taught in school.  Same sex marriage would not have been contemplated 30 years ago yet today it is almost compulsory.  Street preachers, once ignored by passersby, are now confronted by the gay lobby name calling and having such folks arrested!  Abortion is used as a contraceptive by some 'for the woman's sake' it appears!  'Rights,' and 'equality,' are demanded no matter how absurd these calls may be, and certainly no regard is paid to how others 'rights' and 'equality,' is affected.  What was once called 'banter' is no regarded as 'hate crimes,' even when there is clearly no hate whatsoever.  How the world has changed, and the mess hurts the nation.  

The 'silly season' encourages such attitudes to new heights.  Real news is hard to find so any nonsense is presented as a major story while ordinarily it would be ignored.  Take the screaming press coverage of 'Twitter abuse,' for an example.  Several louts abused a couple of women and this becomes a major news story.  One who led a campaign to put Jane Austen on the next £10 note claims to have suffered 'vile tweets' since her name became known.  Others suddenly appear in the papers informing the world of their personal abuse statistics.  Now not only can I not remember the girls name, it matters not as we speak in generalities, such abuse has been common since time began, why is it newsworthy now?  Anyone in the public eye gets abuse. Speak on TV, write in the press, be a footballer or actor, write a blog and letters will fall through the door, comments fill the page and e-mails and Tweets arrive offering love or abuse.  That is life and how she is lived I'm afraid, and we all participate in this, including those on the receiving end this week.  Attention seeking women will of course receive comments they dislike, they love those!  These they will shout about to ensure attention and of course encourage their own misandry won't they?  It amazes me that while men get such abuse no paper makes a fuss about this, why?  Sexism perhaps?   We all know the real reason why, 'women power!'  We live in a world where men are bad and women are good in spite of the reality in front of us.  Middle class women who have grown up with more opportunities than ever whine about their hard life.  Clearly they have never worked a s a bus conductor or docker, miner or navvy.  Those sort of jobs, done by women in many countries, would be seen as beneath them.  Indeed they would never be seen as a mere shop worker, tsk, the very thought!  Such as this have twisted society to such an extent that their tilting at their misandrist windmills has brought politicians running to their door rather than doing the right thing.  So we must see men regarded as bad in all things and women as untouchable and good.  

Look at how this situation has been handled.  A man has sex with a girl who is said to be 13 years old.  Normally we would regard this as a straight jail sentence but on closer inspection things are not what they seem.  Here we read of a girl who looked and acted older and 'was looking for it' as they used to say before such terms were outlawed.  The women's groups are outraged although they, like us, do not know the facts of the case, they have no idea what the lass is like, but they do know he is guilty because he is male!  In one sense they are right, he should not have been there, and what sort of man chases a 16 year old anyway?  What is important here is the refusal to accept this girl could be in any way responsible for her actions.  Such an approach shows limited understanding of human nature.  Such 'jail bait' was in action around here only a few years ago and one young man almost got jailed for his folly.  Anyone who considers 13 year old girls incapable of being 'predatory' has no experience of life and fails to understand human nature.  Women that age have been bonking away willingly since time began. Whether it is a good thing in this 'day and age' is debatable obviously but in times past when life was short this was not an unusual situation.  Mary the mother of Jesus may even have been that young, but don't tell anyone will you?  Actually one English king had a mother aged 12 if I remember right.  These days we can allow children to mature at a better pace with clearer instructions regarding life and hopefully with parents both educating and controlling their offspring.   Need I mention that all the papers referring to this case fill their pages with sex articles of one form or another, or would that be a hypocrisy to obvious?   The specific case is best left up to the judge, although now pressure has been applied and only judges who follow women's groups orders will be allowed to sit on such cases.  How disgraceful!  Fixing judges is the governments job, not the medias!  Where is the girl?  In care, wandering the streets, selling herself?  Does anyone know or indeed really care about her?

An experienced careful cyclist in Nottingham uses correct judgement to move across the road after a funeral cortege has passed.   Indicating carefully he watches the traffic as he maneuvers. A car behind blows his horn and failing to react catches the cyclist as he passes and the driver stops to berate him for being there.  His female passenger joins in while the cyclist recovers his bike and composure.  The outcome leaves the driver facing an 'awareness course,' the passenger cautioned, and the rider receives a letter from the police almost blaming him for not knowing the following car was with the funeral and therefore keen not to lose place.  How many cyclists are killed on the roads and here we see the police blaming a careful cyclist for an accident caused by another?   Guardian

'Bongo Bongo land,' is a term that has been used to refer to Africa for decades, however when used by a member of the European Parliament, a man representing the UKIP party, the white middle class 'Guardian' socialists were outraged.  'Racism' they cried when it wasn't really.  The remaining politicians not sunning themselves on a free holiday somewhere joined in the clamour.  This man, unheard of until now, fills acres of newspaper even though a great many Conservative members and those supporting other parties also agree that 'too much aid is given to 'Bongo Bongo' land and goes into the hands of a few, not the people,' but you are not supposed to say it.  Certainly not when being recorded and the media are looking for an excuse to rubbish you and support their particular party.  Of course Africa is full of 'graft,' so is the UK but that's 'different.'  Of course much aid is wasted but it doesn't mean it should be ended.  This is just another case of hypocrisy where 'racism' is used but no-one really cares about those who suffer 'real racism,' and we have all met some of those!      

A woman wished to breastfeed in a jobcentre and the clerk behind the counter, a woman, refused to allow this.  Naturally mum appears in the 'Daily Mail' whining and looking for a few bob.  The class of women who demand to breastfeed anywhere they choose suffer no opposition and harangue any who disagree.  Now I have seen women breast feed discreetly in such places, few have noticed and none would complain however I suspect the mum involved her was less than discreet and certainly cared nothing for the thoughts of others.  As such in my view she is not fit to be a mother, the child is less important than her!  However hundreds of bitter thoughtless women support this one, each for their own selfish reasons.  Being a mother is the most important job after being a father, however others have 'rights' too and these should not take second place.

The media are specialising in 'online dating' to fill space also these days.  This appears frequently on quiet days, usually accompanied by a picture of a bruised lass who has been battered or robbed, treated 'shamefully' or left in the lurch.  Terrible suffering all because of what she thought was 'the right man' for her.  The internet dating sites are blamed for not checking on the men, it is the internet, that dangerous world that is to blame, and something ought to be done! Any idea of personal responsibility, for instance 'thinking,' appear to be pushed aside.   Of course many more women meet men in pubs, clubs, workplaces, shops, on the streets and at many other gatherings but when it all goes wrong they cannot whine to the press about this.  Only internet dating sites are dangerous, the public house where alcohol flows is a perfectly safe rendezvous.   However have you noticed there is no mention of the men who suffer beatings, robbery, 'shameful treatment' from such dating sites, or indeed from girls met in pubs, clubs and all the rest?  Maybe men don't count or indeed sell papers.  Ah there we have it!  Men don't spend all day telling the world of their emotional problems, nor do they wish to read about them in the press.  Men are just left to 'get on with it,' and expected to suffer and all to often, pay up!  

So many of these situation can be easily dealt with by a simple use of common sense.  An accepted way of looking at the world has been eroded since 1945 by the ending of nominal religion, the increase of wealth, liberal attitudes offering 'if it feels good do it,' with no thought for the results long or short term, even an erosion of the genders so that it is impossible to have anything 'male only' without females demanding entrance, the same females that want 'women only train coaches at that!  The world is awash with wealth, confused people, increased suicide, and many confused with what life is all about.  Misery lies under much of the world we live in, and the liberal society is to blame.  Soon it will provoke a reaction.         

Fit?

As the weather man decided he would offer torrential rain all day I took advantage of the early morning sunlight to wander around to the shop.  Clever me knew that the weather man is always right!  I returned home knowing the rain was about to commence and planned a day of action!  I began by doing the exercising my pot belly reflected in shop windows told me about.  This half hour of all action ("cough") was directed at tightening muscles and losing the pot.  After the heart attack I returned to mundane things such as ironing a shirt or two, no woman offering to do what she was made for.  By this time the morning was over, lunch was served, and the rain had still not arrived.  One siesta later, disturbed by the museum desperate for my attendance tomorrow, not because of me but because almost everyone else is off somewhere, I managed to push aside the weather forecast as clearly the clouds above showed no sign of offering rain.  One lass did have a brolly but that is not always a sign that it is actually raining.  I stepped outside, and it rained!  By now I was committed to popping into the museum and strolled past a woman resting her pushchair under a tree in the forlorn hope the rain would soon ease, we both laughed, and I moved on in the increasing rain to find the museum closed.  Monday is a closed day but someone ought to be there working, they had phoned not long before!  I got home just as the monsoon ended.  How I laughed.  That woman under the tree might still have been there! 

How I ache all over now, I canny walk.......

   

He had the right idea!

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Trauma!

Trauma!  That's the only word.  Happy as Larry (who he?) I skipped cheerily across the park, speaking to white butterflies as they bitterflied by, smiling at passersby (which stops them hanging around near you) and wallowing in the bright sun when it popped its smiling head out between the clouds.  
Then it happened!
I put my hand in my pocket and realised I had left my wee camera behind!
Shock!
It has been so long since I obtained this wee camera and I carry it always.  Now however it was not there, the pocket was empty, the camera snuggled in my jacket pocket, the very ageing jacket I was not wearing.  I stopped, I stared, sweat, cold and eerie, rolled of my forehead.  There was, I knew, nothing to photograph, I have done this town a hundred times, but I needed the camera in my pocket or I was naked, and that is not a sight to admire. My hands began to tremble, dizziness swung me this way and that, my heart beat awfully fast, spiders crawled across my vision my vision. 
I began to sob.
The decision had to be made, do I continue my journey or return all the way back home, just under a hundred yards away?  There was no choice but to return.  I turned, the trembling and sobbing died away, my head cleared, the perspiration eased  and I walked into a spiders web. How sticky is that stuff!
Armed and content, with my wee camera rubbing against my life savings off 32 pence I smiled once again and headed into the bustling town.  I was bustled back and forth as I toured the charity shops, checking the jackets on offer.  One almost fitted, but as usual these shops only stock jackets that are just exactly the wrong size for me.  The nice woman in the shop agreed rather too keenly that my body may be the wrong size.  Hmmm.

As expected nothing happened.  There were no photo opportunities to speak off, all had been seen before, I need to move elsewhere, to a different town, and so I returned just in time to listen into the Scottish football on the Glasgow based 'Sportsound.'  Yes indeed the season has opened once again, with an excellent game last night between Partick Thistle and Dundee United, and once again I find myself involved with such games much more than I could be with the costly English game.  If it didn't rain so much I might go back there!

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Quandry

After the hot sunshine of yesterday it was no surprise to spend the morning inside dodging the thunder and lightning.  Clouds rolled over and the thunder rolled through it all morning.  The rain came down like stair rods and the poor postie must have been saturated before he got very far.  I told him not to worry, I was alright!  I didn't catch what he said.  However when the lightning was at its height I discovered an old pair of boots, missing for a very long time.  It is amazing what you see when lying prone, breathing dust under the bed.

When all had passed by I promenaded through the town wondering if anyone had missed me. None spoke.  Not even those who had quickly secured their seats outside the pub, and how much had they consumed in a short time, bothered to glare in my direction.  I crossed the park, which was almost deserted bar a woman with several kids on a bench in the distance.  A child of about three rode a bike, she rode it somewhat directionless I thought before realising she was riding it directly at me.  She stopped in front of me and looked, kids often do and I sort of panicked.  The mother was at a large distance and the thought I may be seen as a paedophile talking to her kid crossed my mind, so I moved on.  Now normally I would speak to such children, normally I would not react like this, normally I would treat the brat as they deserve but on this occasion, possibly because so few were about, I moved on feeling guilty I may have bemused the child.  Here I am worried I may find a short haired, dangly earringed harridan chasing me!  What sort of neurotic world do I find myself in?  Is it just me?  Children of that age I look upon as a granddad would, except I keep the cash in my pocket, and I would prefer to react normally and chat like I feel we should.  The kids may be OK but too many mothers are not these days.  Some fathers, when they exist, are worse!

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Vandal in Fountain

As I sat resting my beer belly I noticed the kid squeezing the fish to get all the water out of it.  No doubt this is an Essex pastime but it is not one I grew up with.  The sun was hot, very hot, it was just above 80% indoors today, and reached higher outside (32 degrees to you foreign types in Aussieland).  However while the blue sky was good to see it was blotted out by the sun so I thought I'd try a 'sepia' colour to see what happened.  I had hoped to catch the water splashing but that failed miserably.  At least the yobs have not put washing up liquid in the water again, the suds take ages to remove!  

Shanty housing used to stand here, slum dwellings for the poorer of the land.  In the 30's these were torn down as they were unacceptable even then an the fountain erected to leave a clear view of the church, and therefore a better image of the town.  It worked I suppose but I am not keen on the design chosen.  There were a lot of poor housing around this area removed about that time.  The town was on the up between the wars and image was important.  Opposite alms houses were built, now empty after years of other use and probably not acceptable as housing today.  Also a nurses home, now used for 'homeless' youths.  All paid for by the Courtauld family as they continued their 'social policy' of helping improve the town in every way, their way that is. Such were common in the nineteenth century and early twentieth but less so today.  The religious motive that lay behind this has died in many (Courtaulds were Unitarians) and civic pride also.  Millionaires abound in the UK today yet while some benefit the world around them it appears the majority merely pile it up and let the rest go by.  Certainly hospitals and schools, doctors and such like are available in a way unimaginable a hundred years ago but housing is still in a mess and the richest one hundred could indeed do something about that!  Maybe it will change as the economy collapses around us and what really is important replaces the Mercedes and power boats of the wealthy, perhaps not.              

Too Slothful to Post, so.....

Here is a picture of a pretty girl by a window. (1862)

She is reading a book while waiting for the carpet fitter to arrive!

The Silly Season is Well Under Way

With the politicians on holiday, most likely claiming expenses for the trip, the newsworthy items that dominate the papers drops away.  The media desperately fill their pages with dross, sometimes interesting, mostly dross. Today we read of the contents of a footballers suitcase, the charges Amazon is adding, expensive houses or boats and as many sex stories and deaths as they can find.  Holiday reading indeed!  

This of course limits the excuses to rant about unfairness, bad government and other nasty goings on that would not occur if people made me the nations favourite tyrant.  Sadly that position has not yet been offered to me, but I live in hope.

So I am digging out the old photos, that one above taken along the coast near Mallaig in 1985 I reckon, and reading some of the booklets I brought back from the museum today.  I had them on the desk in front of me to read but people kept coming in!  I had no chance to read, if it wasn't kids doing the Medieval week it was folks phoning to book for a future workshop.  Tsk!  Some folks don't care do they?  The kids however love what they do, and that's really good.  

I have also spent much of the last few days attempting to remove an unwelcome visitor, 'webcake.'  This, and several others, came in when I downloaded a supposedly virus free item from 'CNET.'  I failed to read the 'terms and conditions,' who does read them, and there CNET insist you accept webcake.  This horrid brute offers you pop-up ads, blocks the connection on browsers to the proxy connection and takes ages to remove.  In the end, having run malwares, Avast, Spybot, I used this advice and by using 'ADW' and 'JRT,' i managed to remove most.  It may well be I have lost other things also but so far not much has gone wrong.  Oh yes, a bit remained even so and I left the machine on overnight as 'Windows Defender' ran through everything, taking ELEVEN HOURS to complete the job, but the last nasty left.  Or at least I hope so.  It is not a Virus, but Adware, Malware possibly, and it slows the machine, annoys you if 'ADBlockPlus' is not used and should be banned I say.  That's the last time I use CNET.  On one of my email accounts I have suddenly began to receive 60-100 spam a day offering me 'enlargement!' Tsk! With that account it is difficult to hinder spam, but I am getting rid of that slowly.  

Always wise to run checks on the PC weekly, especially after adding software.

Pill Box

Being forced to remain indoors by my most beautiful and intelligent niece.  A Radio 4 play (yawn) was occurring and the musical genius was playing the piano in appropriate places.  She I must say was magnificent!  Displaying the talent, intelligent understanding of the role, and sheer ability that left me wondering if indeed her dad really was my brother.  However the play concerned a famous ballet choreographer, her men, and the Queen Mother.  I confess I preferred the piano to the old queens.  'Drama,' never reflects real life, and the characters of the characters offered made me puke wish to turn off and listen to a woman talking about her baby!   The old queens I've worked with always appeared decent enough folks for the most part, those at the top of their profession however always give me the impression that folks fawning around them has turned their head somewhat.   That will not happen to my favourite pianist, her mother informs me!

But I digress, I began by attempting to inform you (those still awake) that I had spent that 45 minutes radio listening by wondering through the old albums.  There I found this picture of a disused pill box.  This was one of many installed across south east England in 1940, the intention being to hinder a Nazi advance.  The policy was in fact erroneous, the better tactic, and one Rommel attempted in 1944 was to stop a bridgehead being built on the landing beaches.  Once that is secured the day is lost, which is what happened in June '44.  However these pill boxes were built in many spots considered able to defend any advance.  Many still exist in back gardens, overseeing railway lines and river crossings, and here in the fold of a hill.  Quite why this one is here, somewhere in the north of Essex or the south of Suffolk I cannot remember, but some general of sorts considered something worth defending here, most probably the roadway, or railway, now removed.

These small concrete emplacements would have held two or three men and a couple of machine guns.  Their chances of survival under a real invasion would have been slim, although the enemy would not have been kindly disposed towards them I suspect.  These low doors, often you have to crawl to enter, now find use as storehouses or play area s for children.  Some are preserved as memorials others rot slowly and the vast majority have been removed.  The effects of war remain for many years, some notable, many unseen, all enabling us to be grateful the invasion never occurred.

Interesting Scotia Happenings

gCaptain

'Gardyloo,' as you well know, was the exclamation shouted from old Edinburgh tenements when someone wished to empty their 'pisspot' into the gutter that ran down the middle of the narrow close.  Such a load offered from several floors above, some buildings reaching ten stories, was not the most pleasant part of Edinburgh past.  Walking through it on the way ho,e from the tavern would not have been a barrel of laughs either I suspect.  Hygiene was not much improved anywhere in what is laughingly referred to as the 'United Kingdom' until the middle of the nineteenth century.  Then Ministers of Health were to be found in most cities and sewerage, slum clearance, clean water and soap brought much needed improvements.  Edinburgh, not surprisingly, produced some of the best and most inventive doctors in the world!  They had a lot to go on, as it were.  

During the twentieth century, which some of you may be old enough to remember, Scotland's capital still had problems with sewage.  By this time pipes ran way out into the Firth of Forth depositing unwanted material into the waters where it would be passed on into the north Sea. This is the same same North Sea where our Haddock came from and they kindly recycled the stuff back to us through the many 'chippies.'  I recall the early 70's when Edinburgh streets were in upheaval as a new sewage works arrived down Portobello way at Seafield.  Normally this seaside 'resort,' I use that word sparingly, contained the youthful Hibernian players and their fans idling the day's away while bigger clubs participated in European competition, however during this decade the contents of the sewage pipes had failed to reach the Haddock in the North Sea and instead arrived unwelcome on Porty beach.  Some folks still swam!  Leith people eh?  The council swiftly moved into action, once a backhander had arrived, allegedly, thousands of tons of new, clean sand was deposited, the new sewage works opened  and people removed the clothes pegs from their noses.

This was not without mishap of course.   While working in the infirmary one chap (English of course) arrived in the ward, both hands tied to a rack keeping his arms in the air.  Behind him came a nurse carrying a small bowl containing several of his fingers, or bits of his fingers.  He then had Professor James sew them back on again.  I spent the next two weeks looking after him, doing all those things you wish you could do yourself, until he was considered fit enough to return home.  I wonder how his hands are now?   Possibly the shaving cuts have healed also?  He was a warning that when fixing a large industrial fan, make sure it will not swing round swiftly when your hands are inside!

The fitters work at the Seafield plant may have been good, at least up till someone switched the fan on, but Edinburgh still had an excess of waste to deal with, this is where the 'Bovril Boats' come in!  'Bovril' itself as you know was an invention of an Edinburgh Butcher, John Lawson Johnson.  He later moved to Canada (because Edinburgh was too warm?) where his 'beef glaze' was developed into 'Bovril' as we know it today.  This he sold to Napoleon's army and made his name and his money!  However the substance also gave its name to the 'sludge boats.'  To remove the contents of the sewers boats collected from sewage farms as much as they could contain and sailed into recognised areas at sea and dumped the lot for the tides to disperse. From 1978, while I existed on a pittance in a hole in a wall in Notting Hill the M.V. Gardyloo operating from Leith Docks, took up to half a million metric  tonnes of 'sludge' from the people of Edinburgh, and headed of to St Abbs Head or the 'Bell Rock' to release its contents there.  For twenty years this interesting operation continued.  However while the dumping ground was carefully chosen, and the ship 'ponged' a wee bit the interesting thing was the passengers!  At no charge twelve passengers were entertained on the short trip and were given breakfast, coffee and biscuits, lunch and even their tea while they inspect the sea life on the islands in the Forth, especially the Bass Rock I suspect.  In between using binoculars on nesting seabirds or examining the wheelhouse the ship would dump its load on unsuspecting Cod.  Their opinion has not been recorded.  A very good day out this seems to me and I wish I had known of its existence at the time.  I would have been aboard at a shot!  Sadly EU regulations forbade such dumping in 1998 and these boats curtailed their employment and were passed on to others for less exciting work. The 'Gardyloo' now transports 'fresh water' for Azerbaijan!  The Seafield Water Treatment Works, a nice way to say 'sewage,' continues the work, although much attention is required concerning the 'odour' that local citizens may notice from time to time.  Some £50 million may have to be spent to deal with that.  The boat was cheaper!

BBC

From 1950 until 1953 the United Nations fought its first war, this took place in Korea.  The 'Cold War' had begun and used third world countries as battlefields.  Our fifty years of peace were fifty years of war for Africa, South East Asia and Central and South America, among others.  Fifty to a hundred million died, still, we were doing OK so that's alright then.  The Japanese had dominated Korea for around a hundred years and when removed in 1945 a political decision meant the nation was divided between the Soviets to the north and the USA to the south.  The two nations began to develop along different lines and in June 1950 the Communist North invaded the South making the UN rush into action - eventually.  An army comprising twenty nations, with almost 90% being American, arrived under 'Mad Boy' MacArthur.  The United Kingdom, still devastated after the defeat of Hitler, sent a large number of troops to this war, much against public opinion!  Two major wars in fifty years, a depression and now with rationing still ongoing few cared about a nation they had never heard off.   However a force built from the Commonwealth was sent.  The British Commonwealth Forces Korea (BCFK) comprised Australian, New Zealand, Indian, Canadian and British  forces and numbered 100,000 men and this was always led by an Australian. For the most part however these men have been forgotten!  The British units involved are named here.  

Allowing for the lack of news at the time, TV was in its beginning after the war and the Radio and newspapers appeared to play down the war itself.  Indeed one returning soldier stepped of a train in Edinburgh's Waverly Station where a friend greeted him.  When asked where he had been he replied "Korea," and his friend had no idea what he was talking about!  The war was so badly reported because no-one wished to know.  The Britain of the early fifties was rebuilding after the war, houses were in desperately short supply, wages were low, the ravages of war and the building of families and a new life took precedence.  The men who served, and suffered greatly, were forgotten.  As indeed were those in Britain's other small wars, the 'End of Empire' wars.  

Now however this new enlarged memorial has been opened to remember those Scots who served before they all pass away.  Situated in  West Lothian, of a Korean design, surrounded by Scots and Korean trees to represent the dead, the hills also suggest Korea to those who were there.  Many died there, many were traumatised, as any 19 year old on National Service would be!  Forgotten on their return, ignored at the time, these men endured for their country as did those from the other conflicts since that time.  It is good that something is done to remember their actions. 

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