Laff!

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Nothing Important

For the first time in yonks I find myself grumbling and putting the world to rights.  Something my tired wee mind has struggled with recently when I really couldn't work up the energy.  Twice tonight I allowed my mind to wander over past battles and successfully defeat the enemies of reason (my reason).  A good sign!  

I should point out not everyone would see this as a good sign.  If I sleep enough, eat enough (and properly) I may have to start blogging properly again. I could go on about blood thirsty Americans bombing people (even though none appear in the media at the moment), I could blast the trumpet against the monstrous regiment, I could grumble re the appalling state of cheap slippers, and I might even get around to winging about those self service machines in Sainsbury's this morning but I have forgiven the brute now.  

Since I wrote that my mind has dulled and darkness is falling with a big thump. I listen to the football online as the Sportsound boys get excited over little. There is little to get excited over as our lot don't play till Sunday when we beat the wee team again.  I seem to spend more time in my bed on this laptop than anything else these days.  In fact all day I have been downloading stuff onto disks and two of them had already been downloaded yonks ago!  Fool!  Dearie me just formatting the disk tales ten minutes let alone sorting out the pics. Bah!  Tomorrow I will go around the favourite blogs and find something rude to say on them all.  

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Clean up.

The washing has been done, hung up over every suitable space and dried by evening for the most part. The hoover has run about the floor chasing the dust and forcing it to hang about in the air for hours after it was supposed to be sucked up into the depths of the machine.  Good grief even the sinks got themselves cleaned.  How is it something so close to water can be so filthy?  I fail to understand how the water manages to leave behind so much stour!  Well at least that is those jobs done for a few months.  

As the dust returned from whence it had arisen I decided to clean up the laptop and download all those files taking up space and too important to loose.  Such a simple idea but then it goes wrong.  Not that anything went wrong it was just that the discs I use to download stuff onto take forever to format.  I was convinced I had prepared all these beforehand and discovered I had failed to prepare any!  So I began, first I had to check all the previous discs badly field with things in a mixed order.  At least I discovered some pictures hidden for ages past if nothing else, then I discovered that nothing could be deleted from those old discs, which was a pity!    

Hours passed as I removed files of pictures to one disc after another.  Museum files here, picture museum files there, Great War here, other Great War there, on and on and I have hardly started yet.  I also began to clear out the links. Line after line of links I never use even allowing for some being important to hold on to so many might never be used again.  Just why some were kept is now a mystery and so many no longer work, the page long gone as the owner probably has too.  

Added to this I was searching through the Memorial website in an effort to update the info there and this also takes so much time.  However there is a reward in that new details arise and some interesting info comes out.  This however could go on for ever.  

     

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Summer Storms

A wee bit of rain fell today, the left overs of yet another US hurricane that they send to us.  Some areas are inundated, we just got wet if we stepped outside. The media, well the 'Daily Mail' has been threatening all sorts of things that will happen to us, once again they were wrong.  The dogs in the park I noticed were thoroughly enjoying themselves, not so the folks that will be cleaning them up when they get home.  It appears the hot summer is over, the dying embers will flair now and again but the nights are closing in again.

  
The football season proper got under way this weekend and as expected the Heart of Midlothian defeated one half of the evil twins easily.  Unusually the Govan Masons did not get the help they expected from the referee, there were no late minute penalties, no sending's off, although six yellow cards were handed out, and somewhat harshly I felt regarding some of these, the ref did stick to the laws of the game for the most part.  This may not happen all season of course.  So once again we begin the long haul, week by week, worry by worry, not for us the worry, that's for the rest to do. 

Daily Mail

This week we must watch the Middle East mess continue with the Yazidis being exterminated by the ISIS group, under whatever name they possess today. Clearly the threat to the Kurds capital had to be stopped, clearly something has to be done, but will a few air strikes do the job?  This group is a well organised, well trained people.  Dedicated and committed to killing anything that does not agree with them, and killing in that region has always been commonplace.  The Yazidis plight is not new.  This threat is greater than any so far.  Nothing is simple or straight forward in the middle east and there is much more to come in this situation.  Christians are among those being removed, ethnically cleansed is the phrase no-one has used so far, but all others will die if they refuse to submit to ISIS.  The LORD knows those who are his however and he remains in charge in spite of what we see before us.
 
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Friday Night is Music Night

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Drinks!

My jet set lifestyle took me to the official opening of the exhibition.  A place where speeches were made, praise was passed round, and rose wine was drunk. This mixing with the hob-nobs is a good thing in my opinion.  My influence is important amongst the movers and the shakers, when I arrive they all shake slightly and soon move me on I find.  The lass who organised the whole thing has done really well, plastering the walls with boards detailing all sorts of items from the war, timelines, info etc, some wrote by me, and obtained mannequins dressed in appropriate uniforms.  Things for kids to touch, push and wear, guns, grenades, violent things and all the odd items used in those days to keep a soldier happy, and alive.  Sadly real WW1 'Brodie' steel helmets are not allowed today, the inside contains asbestos and this could be dangerous! Now they tell them! 

These days I sit at the laptop and merely research the individuals concerned more intently. Nothing else to write, research or look out for.  All bar odds and ends are done, even the boss is relaxing after her hard three months.  I can even take time off and....what?....Oh I see, I canny take time off, I have to go in tomorrow to cover, 'for an hour' she says.  I bet that means 10-1 again!  Ah well, it keeps me off the streets.  In fact the threatened rain (another of the USA's old storms) will be torrential when I go out in the morning, and that will keep everyone off the streets.  Typical!  

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Nothing to Say.

I've searched the papers.  I've looked at pictures, I've stared out the window and I'read others blogs but I still have nothing to say.  Now that the exhibition is up and running and I have merely to continue researching my men there is no news.  
The routine wars ebb and flow, the media builds up nothing as important, the sun goes down early and life goes on but there is nothing to say!  
I got my haircut, I ate badly, I avoided the teeming rain when going to the shop early.  Not much to write about there, bar miserable people you meet during the day.  Funny how when I meet folks they all look miserable but when they pass on they are happy again.  I must have the gift of encouragement, I must practice this more.  The warmth is still in the air as it ought to be, even when the rain falls as it did earlier.  The brats scream and yell in the darkened park, skateboarding in the fenced off skateboard park which is undergoing repair.  No doubt soon the screeching girls, why must they always scream, will be testing 'morning after' outfits.  This area having one of the worst pregnancy rates for stupid girls.  I note the gardeners are ensuring foliage fills the gaps that appear between the trees near the fence at the side.  Blocking area that will save much money from single mum benefits.     
The official exhibition opening is tomorrow night, although it is already open! This means another clean shirt and a bath, that will be the second this week and it is not even Sunday!  The costs are high here, soap and water!
Hours have gone by and nothing has stimulated the mind.  This mind needs stimulation, or as the lass at the museum put it, 'a kick.'  Typical women's approach!  

However I like these girls, they speak my language!

  

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The Men Who Marched Away.

This is the draft of the item I wrote for the museum.  The boss has edited the entire piece but I cannot find it on the laptop.  I suppose there are not that many changes bar of course the grammar!  It was intended as a brief introduction to the Great War which as you must know by now began on the 4th of August 1914 as far as this nation was concerned.
 

Gavrilo Princip’s action in assassinating the Archduke Ferdinand, heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne, meant little to most Essex people that June day.  With summer at hand the people’s thoughts probably centered on day trips to the coast, Southend by rail a mere three shillings and sixpence ‘Third Class,’ or possibly a day at a local fair or fete.  However by the August Bank Holiday as they returned cheerful to town news of the long awaited European war being at hand dampened their enjoyment somewhat.

The towns and district around the small towns of Braintree and Bocking shared the same patriotic fervour as the rest of the nation that day war was declared on the 4^th of August 1914.  The Band marched through the streets playing patriotic tunes and enthusiastic volunteers made their way to the Drill Hall in Victoria Street eager to ‘do one’s duty,’ either for the sake of the Empire or to protect ‘gallant little Belgium.’  Many ex-servicemen, some with experience of the Boer War, also re-joined the colours; their experience a boon to the fledgling troops who took a militaristic pride in their uniform once that is they received one.  It is unlikely any among them had any comprehension of what full scale industrial war between mighty powers would entail. 

The Territorials were already on exercise when war was declared and took up positions throughout the county in defence of the much dreaded invasion.  Business was hit badly, Crittalls alone watched well over a hundred reservists and Territorials leave for the fight.  The long hard struggles over wage rates became struggles to create munitions with the common belief, even at very high levels, that the war would be, as the Kaiser himself claimed, ‘over by Christmas,’ a belief that was soon proven false. 

Over the next four years the district shared the traumas and despair of war.  The majority supported the war effort and those who did not suffered badly from all around.  Pacifists and conscientious objectors were widely despised, the more so as the death count mounted.   While many continued to offer themselves as the war progressed and a short war faded into distant memory the need for men increased.  Some favoured conscription, others, usually unable to serve themselves, demanded all young men should enlist.  Insistent women stood at factory gates seeking young men for the colours, others offered white feathers to men in the street and young women refused to ‘walk out’ with a man who would not enlist.  Harassment from such as they and noticing the treatment of soldiers by their officers or army doctors also inclined many to rush into the munitions factories for ‘war work’ in the factories rather than ‘in the field.’  Employers not involved in ‘war work’ ‘did their bit’ by sacking men of army age, whether single or married, who did not enlist, and the pressure of middle class women attempting to enrol farm hands had the opposite effect in Essex as the men were annoyed and tore down recruitment notices.  The most vociferous patriot is usually the one staying at home.

The absence of reliable news coverage plus a strict censorship enabled rumour to become something of an art form.  The best example being the small company of the Russian Military Representatives who landed near Aberdeen and were transported south by train, soon this had become 80,000 Russian troops heading for the front.  There were claims that through the blinds, always lowered on troop trains travelling at night, lit cigarettes illuminated Russian beards!  The much feared invasion offered constant rumours of enemy landings, something that worried Essex people who were in the forefront of any invasion.  For this reason a million men were stationed in East Anglia partly to defend against invasion but also preparing for transport ‘to the front.’  Troops from many parts were billeted on the district; even small houses with families had up to six men with them.  This could be an advantage to the householder if she gave lodging to cooks who enabled the family to eat better than usual!  The great disadvantage being that many became family friends and their loss felt almost as grievously as they families itself. 

Over the next few years the people of the district spent many anxious moments awaiting news of their men.  Official reports clashed with tales from returning wounded from the same regiment, months could go by with no news whatsoever.  Knowledge of a soldiers regiment participating in a ‘Great Push,’ with no acknowledgement of his whereabouts caused great suffering for months on end in many homes while the distant rumble of guns in Flanders a constant worrying reminder of what their men endured.  Many women as well as men however benefited from the high wages found in munitions work.  Crittalls, paid their women employees the same as the men and provided medical care which lessened absence and gave a degree of security to the workers.  Lake & Elliott were among those leading the munitions drive along with other East Anglian companies creating a factory making fuses entirely staffed by female labour.  Women from all social strata and backgrounds took up routine factory work, mixing somewhat uneasily, while others became voluntary nurses at local war hospitals.  The social classes in service at home and abroad mixed together in ways unknown for some time.

The people of the Braintree and Bocking, Finchingfield and Coggeshall, Wethersfield and Bardfield in town and village faced the fear caused by a new kind of war, one fought in the air.  The experiments of Jack Humphreys at Wivenhoe alongside the other air pioneers had by 1914 produced the early machines that were to change war forever.  This change was noticed in Essex by the dark slender shapes of Zeppelins whirring by high above dropping bombs from the dark heights.  Zeppelins flying higher than aircraft crossed the North Sea to attack the Britain with a degree of impunity as defences were inadequate to deal with the threat.  The citizen was now in the front line and the citizen did not like it!  In spite of the ‘Blackout’ incendiary devices were dropped on Braintree with a bomb damaging windows in London Road while others fell harmlessly nearby.  On the night of March 31^st 1916 Braintree suffered heavily. That night Kapitanleutnant Alois Bocker brought his airship, ‘Zeppelin L 14’ to Braintree arriving around eleven in the evening.  He dropped a bomb which landed on Number 19 Coronation Avenue.  Inside Ann Herbert was killed while asleep in the back bedroom while her daughter and two children survived even though they crashed down from the first floor to the ground.  Next door the chimney collapsed into the house killing the sleeping Dennington’s and their three year old niece Ella, while the entire street suffered concussion damage from the explosion.  Kapitanleutnant Bockers ‘L. 14’ continued to drop bombs causing little damage but now the townsfolk knew what modern war offered.        

High wages were available and women spent much on cigarettes and lipstick earned through long working.  Many men were saddened however as beer increased in price and decreased in strength!  Panic buying was reduced as some degree of price control was installed.  However shortages arose and most folks took to an early ‘grow your own’ policy.  Bread being in short supply by 1918 and lack of coal supplies hurt many during the later winters.  Shortages became more important as German submarines began to take a toll of British shipping during 1917.  The greatest dread however was the knock on the door.  The inoffensive telegram boy saw many sad sights as wife or mother received news of her husband, brother or son, wounded, missing or killed.  The telegram Boy must have been a dreaded sight during those long hard years.  It is no surprise some telegraph boys were overcome with the distress that faced them at the doors and quite unable to deliver the telegrams.  Nine men from South Street, three from Bradford Street, five from Coggeshall Road, three from Notley Road and three from Rayne Road fell.  No part of town was untouched

The four long years of war left around ten million dead.  Nations were damaged physically and politically.  Men returned changed and often found the promised jobs gone, wives and families unable to cope with their hardened attitudes and disturbed physical or mental disabilities.  Shell shock, guilt, both of actions taken and the guilt of surviving, the loss of a steady wage and for some a regular meal also hurt many.  For years after the war many returning soldiers, lived among the ‘down and outs’ of society, many of them officers!   Single women, often widows with children could find few men to replace the ones lost.  The high rates of pay in a munitions factory ended in 1918 and the women returned home with few jobs to replace the war work.  Cultural attitudes, changing before 1914, exploded after the war.  Hair was bobbed; skirt hems raised and for those with money a time of jollity prevailed as an effort to live life took over from death.  The majority suffered bankrupt Britain’s ‘austerity’ however, the poorest suffering most.  The men hailed as heroes found no homes built for them, jobs rare, and the rewards of victory, and they believed they had indeed won a victory, taken from them. 

Was the war worth 750,000 British men dying?  Society changes would have come anyway, slower perhaps but inevitably.  Could the United Kingdom have avoided war by allowing an aggressive Germany to dominate Europe in 1914?  Could Britain have morally stood back when Belgium’s neutrality was ignored?  Surely this war would have had to be fought one day?  These men did indeed give themselves in a great cause, they did save the nation and the people back home could indeed be proud of their efforts.  Can we be proud of how they were treated afterwards?  

Braintree & Bocking Great War Memorial

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Pondering

I awoke this morning to the blethering voices on the radio mixing with the remains of my dreams.  This was not a good combination.  It was just after six, my bleary eyes looked at the brightness outside and wished to climb on the bike in the early stillness.  My muscles were however making clear their protests. I rose, went back, pondered, rose again and sat staring out through the open window.  The dream remained in parts, just how was a friend, not seen for 20 years on that bus/van/train thing last night? What was he saying, why were we wherever we were?  Radio 3 soothed my mind as I pondered.  In spite of the sun my thoughts became dismal.  After all I was still me!  As the crows nodded while patrolling what they consider their park I mused on the wasted years, the ineptness and failure that is my life.  It was then a memory of how God had chosen to love me in spite of all this came to mind.  Long ago he made clear his love to me, useless, inept, cretinous sinner that I am, and had proved it so many times.  

It was a good thought.  

Foolishly cheered I then sauntered around on the bike for some minutes as my body screamed "NO!"  To stop my muscles (I use that word loosely) seizing up I then strolled across the park and around the almost empty town.  How the sun brightens everything, especially when the town is empty.  I made it home and fell asleep soon enough in a vain effort to please the body.  The hulk was not pleased and required yet more sleep after what laughingly I called 'lunch.'  

My head continued to carry the thought that Jesus loved me.  How incredible! Only I can tell how bad I am, yet he knows there is much worse inside, I canny do anything that will surprise him, yet Jesus gave his life for me.  

It is only when I allow myself to forget this, by fussing about less important things, that I find myself swamped by the world.  What a clown.  

The amazing truth is that it is not that we loved God but that he loved us, and gave himself for us!  The death of Jesus washes away sins, all our wrongs.  No wonder Christians should be happy.

Just imagine what I would be like if he had not intervened in my life?  Put your trust in Jesus, nothing and no-one else brings abundant life!

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One of Those Days....

This has been one of those days where nothing goes right.   Nothing goes right online, in the street, at shops, talking to people, nowhere did things work right, people were always in the way, doing wrong, being unhelpful, and I am glad the day is over.  Now I sit here in the cool of the day, watching the sun depart, knowing that whatever else happens nothing now can go wro


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Overworked

However when the kids have gone through and all is quiet I can ponder for a while.  As the Great War exhibition tales shape, and I keep well out of the way, the strain is beginning to tell on the poor lass running the show.  It will be marvellous, but she has not got to that point of view yet.
I am still writing things, the info keeps changing, other things await, and the heat has been marvellous.  Sunshine, blue skies, and while it appears to be nearing the end of summer it has been marvellous to see.  That's three times I have said marvellous, four now, and you didn't notice.  
Up and out at 7:30 this morning to deliver a pile of stuff I researched ages ago and have been to ill (violins here please) to deliver.  This morning I cycled on the aged bike down there, delivered and cycled back without falling off.  My health must be improving in time for winter.  So I start cycling and tomorrow they promise rain and normality again, typical!  Ah well, look at the time, still another man tow rite about....tomorrow! 

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Sunday Garden Party

I spent an enjoyable afternoon amongst the rich and famous whom nobody has yet heard off. Sunshine, warmth, friendliness (yes they did know me) and wine. Quite what was in that punch I am not sure but several drank large glasses of the stuff.  I preferred the rose however this was better than the cheap plonk I have indulged in all too often in occasionally.  
The house is a bit of a mystery, attempts to trace its linage going back several hundred years have led nowhere.  Clearly it started smaller and developed over the years and someone had a lot of money at one time to improve the place. No-on knows who however.  
The lady of the house has dressed it up very well and we were allowed free access everywhere, an idea which suited the women of course.

Poor Tiddles

The better mannered, the men, merely browsed the lounging quarters and accidentally found ourselves where the grub was housed.  I can vouch for the several layers of chocolate cake which accidentally fell onto my plate, and those little round jammy things with cream were not bad either. Then we ate the meat!  

This electric lamp is not Victorian and I suspect the place was done up in the 19th century at some time, as these places often were, but I doubt they would have had a gas lamp even then! Behind the gates the servants would secure the grounds and possibly a large dog or two may have been housed here.  There certainly is one now, conveniently removed for the day.  I remain far from jealous of those who have such dwellings.  The cost of maintenance, the cellar requires seeing to, and general upkeep take a lot of time.  It also fails to have a swimming pool and if you buy such a house you require a covered in pool somewhere!  Lots have pools in this area and hardly use them as normal weather forbids it.  How daft can you get?

A few fan tailed Doves in here would go down very well.  They would also avoid starvation during hard times, very nice with white wine I believe.  The 'Dutch Style' is not unknown around here, all them Flemish weavers of the past, and possibly a dealer in cloth moved in here and remodelled it to suit himself.

In the corner of the basement we find this!  At first we thought bread ovens but there is no flu, then our little historical minds ran wild and we, er got nowhere! So many mysteries and so little info.  A quick consultation with ourselves and back to the wine gathering.

The nice wee touches throughout the house and surroundings are very good indeed.  I loved the way she has made use of this old mangle (I still use mine) and made the back door attractive.  An apple tree amongst others surrounds the back yard and improves the servants entrance!

Oh yes, and as you might expect, there was a naked woman in the garden.....

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Beesy Saturday

The threatened thunder stayed away and instead we had 80 degrees of heat at lunchtime.  I was stuck in the museum doing nothing as the sun took people off to places outside.  So I wondered into the organic garden outside to get a few pics of the numerous beasties gathered there.  They all left as I arrived!  A startling small white butterfly alighted on a lunchbox and waited right up to the moment I raised the camera to flee!  The various bees disappeared also, all bar this man who was too busy enjoying himself to care.  However he enjoyed himself so much he would not stand still and this was the best picture out of many I took.  Bah!

The football season began today.  The wee cup first round in which the Heart of Midlothian triumphed. Having fallen asleep I almost missed it, how times change!  Once I would have yearned for the season to begin, now I am already a bit tired of it because the World Cup just took up so much time that required an absence from the beautiful game.  I wonder how many players will begin the season jaded? Too many I suspect.  There again, when the league actually begins and we play one of the ugly sisters I suspect then I will find enthusiasm once again. 

Until then I'm back off to bed.

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My Weather Eye is Open.

Morning

My weather eye has to be open, that is something folks living on these islands get used to.  The weather is a major topic of conversation because it keeps happening to us.  Rarely does it fail to occur, always it waits outside for us, occasionally making its way indoors.  Recent days have seen high temperatures and bright hot sunlight.  People in Edinburgh were calling the police to report a huge UFO seen high in the sky.  After much deliberation the investigating detectives discovered this was the sun! I am informed the Haar (that's mist to you) has managed on occasion to come from its normal position just about the Firth of Forth and cover the entire city in a more normal outlook.  However the sun has kept leaking out, even in Edinburgh.  We, here in this southern wilderness, are more used to the yellow thing in the sky but we are also prey to many more thunderstorms.  We had a short one this morning not long after I had taken that early picture.  I sat in the somewhat chilly sun for a while around seven enjoying the peace, the blue sky and the sunshine.  I need to get out of here every so often and see what light is like.  

By late afternoon, late for me anyway, the sky had changed.  The clouds gather in large clumps, rain clouds threaten in the distance and the weatherman helpfully informs us the hot weather will leave us for a 'while.'  The 'while' may well be ten years but we wait and see.  

Some places have weather that rarely varies, it is either always hot or cold, or just yukky.  The British Isles however have the thousands of miles of Atlantic Ocean at one side bringing in left over storms from the Americas and the land mass that is the continent on the other.  Both affect the weather that lands on us!  Tonight we face rain in west Scotland and thunderstorms here. The weather will cool and normality will return.  A few days of "I'm glad that's gone, it was too hot," becomes "Why is it always cold here, I'm off to Spain!"  Some folks are never happy, always complaining, and I see no reason for this....... 

Afternoon

Now here's a funny thing.  The Commonwealth Games are being held in Glasgow, Scotland's second city. However when the opening night arrived this brought the first ever occasion on which the home nations national anthem was sung!  There was no 'Flower of Scotland' to be heard merely the English anti Scots dirge, God save the Queen.  Further much speculation has been put about regarding the Red Arrows display team.  They normally end the show with a pume of smoke being left behind in the sky, always offering the red, white and blue.  However a request that Blue and white, signifying the Scots flag was turned down by the English defence secretary on the basis that they 'only use red, white and blue.'  This has surprised many as we have all seen them displayed red and white in the shape of the English flag before, but maybe he was being duplicitous?  Interestingly cyclists with Union Flags on their helmets were allowed but those with Scots flags were not!  The Westminster tyrants never end their persecution of Scotland and Scots yet remain determined to keep the  Scots cash flowing into London! 

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The Bookcase

As I awoke to the chattering classes on the radio this morning I discovered aching arms and pains in the back remained after my exertions yesterday. This never used to happen.  When I was a lad I moved furniture up and down five flights of stairs regularly yet had no strains at all, just one or two trapped fingers. However I managed to struggle all the way to the grime covered kitchen and sustain myself via porridge and tea.  Then I placed the bookcase in position having moved the old dust covered shelving to a position where it would be a nuisance. The hoover is now thanking me for the years of dust that had accumulated behind the old shelving, my throat and lungs are not so thankful.  Once the thing was wiped down and shelves placed therein I checked the wee marks thereupon and began to wonder from where it had come.  Each mark on a shelf indicated someone searching out a book.  The marks on the base could be caused by years of feet scuffing the sides, kids toys bashing it as they passed by, mum's hoover, or possibly the hoover used by the 'woman who does,' all leaving a small memory behind.  For years this bookcase has stood in someones home, someone with money I suggest, in days gone by as when bought it would have been quite pricey.  Someone who had a 'nice' home and 'good' furniture within.  Does it date from the 80's, 70's, 60's perhaps?  Over the years their 'nice' home has become a wee bit bashed, this indicates a full house, probably a happy house, and if the bookcase was in the middle of house life maybe a well educated house.
What books stood on these shelves?
Were there intellectually stimulating books covering the subjects studied in university perhaps?  Did history volumes fill the shelves, weighty tomes of some science or engineering perhaps, could a trainee doctor have loaded the shelves with books full of unpronounceable words?  It could be they were used for story books, novels with which to waste life or worse novels through whom life was lived.  Large books have been stored on the bottom shelf as space has been made for them there.  Kids encyclopedias maybe, books about animals, aircraft, ships?  Possibly coffee table tomes full of glossy pictures covering fashion, houses or the world in general certainly covering the world of the owner. Maybe they were authored by the householder?  Was this the first recipient of a writers life I wonder? We shall never know so why am I prattling on?
If only the bookcase could talk.
Mind you if a bookcase began to talk we would then have other problems.  What would the bookcase say about the contents of the shelves?  Even worse imagine a sofa speaking to the press about those that had 'made use' of its comfort!  The boring sideboard may not appear so boring once it reveals the contents of that drawer with the lock that no family member bar one has ever seen open, at least the sideboard would know where the keys in the drawer fit!  The fridge would be able to reveal who was drinking out of that bottle late at night, the front door would have tales of many who had knocked hopefully over the years and as for the bathroom cabinet I despair if one of those ever began to speak!
Oh dear.  I think I made the tea too strong this morning, I will go and put some books on the shelf......

How ridiculously satisfying to have a bookcase full of books!  What strange satisfaction to see almost all the books almost in the right place.  Certainly when the world's problems are noted this small thing is unimportant, but I am strangely content. Behind me the place is er, not quite right, but that's another story as I am washed out now.  I probably should not have carted this upstairs yesterday and moved the books.  Ah well.


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Sea Me....

Oh to go down to the sea again!  How I miss it!  I have not seen the sea fora very long time, and the sea has not seen me either for that matter, not that in the mind of the sea I matter that much.  That picture is two years old, and I suspect the ship has managed to make land by now.
In fact I have not been anywhere for a while, mostly because I have been busy searching for dead soldiers or have felt rough.  At last I ventured forth into work yesterday and sat there half asleep all morning.  Clearly an improvement they all thought, usually I am totally asleep!  
Today I was so keen I returned to seeking info on dead men and after much struggle succeeded (although nothing succeeds like a budgie).  I have found interesting info and now must contact the great, great granddaughter of the poor soul to inform them.  Before I do this I need to investigate two more of her distant relatives and pass that info on also, but most of that has already been unearthed. 
I did make two mistakes today, one was to discover yet another butterfly butterflying at the window, so much for then dying out!  I aided his escape and decided to rescue the one in the bathroom.  This I did by gently easing him onto a little booklet and carting him to the fresh air at the open window.  As the beast realised the way was clear he flew off as I congratulated myself on the rescue.  Unfortunately he almost crashed into the telegraph pole outside and swerving to avoid this he went under a car!  I was horrified.  There is no way off knowing if he was carried along the road and escaped, and I am not sure if the bits in the road were parts of a fallen leaf or my mate.  I feel more guilty about this than most things!

My second mistake was to forget I am not fit.  The shelving is falling down and the wee shop next door had a nice (cheap) bookshelf stood standing doing nothing there.  A quick walk in, use the arm as a ruler and measure the length, and then wander up the road pondering the price.  That was the other day as I crept early up to Tesco, today I remeasured the bookcase, using my arm, and my failing shelving, using my arm.  I then obtained the money from the bank, thanks girl for the loan of those nylons, and bought the bookcase, £10 off seeing it was me.  I carried the shelves upstairs and he gave me a hand up my one flight.  This was the mistake!  Forgetting that I was run down, forgetting that I was not fit forgetting that I am 'ahem' older than I was, as he raced back to his shop I floundered on my chair gasping for breath in a manner unknown to me! In fact those athletes at Glasgow in the following few days may find themselves less breathless than I was at that moment.  I really need to do some exercise, properly, and three times a week. The girls at work say, "Visit a doctor," but we know he will just say "Fat slob," so there is no need. At one point this afternoon I was however almost thinking about it.

There are wars and rumours of wars, there are celebs filling the empty pages of papers, and now the kids here are on holiday!  Can it get any worse I ask.....? 

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A Wee Run North

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Flutterby

This boy has been sat here on my bathroom wall for three days now.  Sitting there, face down, as if he expects to be fed somehow.  What is he doing there? The door, a large wooden thing that fills a hole, is wide open, leaving a large empty hole through which he can leave, this is positioned only six inches from his face, yet he stays there.
His mate flew in the other night and fluttered about for a while in the bedroom banging his head on the window before he worked out to go through the open bit.  He flew out to join several other butterfly's fluttering by and yesterday there appeared to be a great many of the things around.  This can only be good as the beasties are suffering a lot with the muck we pollute the air with.
I may however have to call the bailiffs in for this visitor.

The BBC iPlayer is down!  It is impossible to get programmes to arise!  How can I live without listening to something I could not hear when originally broadcast? This great boon to mankind now lying broken somewhere in White City or wherever is more important than anything else to those of us off an intellectual bent.  And I have often been informed my intellect is very bent indeed!  I was listening to the 'Essay' on Radio 3 and it would not work. Last weeks was about the first world war and offered interesting insights as to how it effected people in various nations today, very clever programmes.  This week we have had A.L. Kennedy talking about Scotland!  You would not wish to miss this!  I canny agree with Kennedy on some things but I find her short talks very interesting and clever. Well worth a listen, once the blasted thing comes back up that is!!! Bah!!!  

No iPlayer and it's back to this.....

Hot Heat!

Hot heat today, reaching 84 degrees, that's 29 to you in the colonies! i have still got the bug which has wearied me badly this week and have not been out in this much.  20 minutes this afternoon after I was forced to shop for ink for the printer (£28:50 for a set of B&W & Colour. Tesco wanted £32 for the same!!!). I sat for a wee while on the way back and rested my ailments and gazed at the blue above us.  

    
He came out full of vim and vigour, dropping the ball and ordering the boss to chuck it for him. As you can see on the way back after a short tour of the park he is less keen or haste.  Age is catching up on us all.... 

I'm off to bed....

This Morning

This was this morning, now I am asleep on my feet and I forgot all about this, so goodnight.....

The Ancient Near East, A Very Short History.

This wee book is one of dozens produced in this style.  The intention is to produce a short book to inform the reader of a particular subject, and the subjects range far and near.  It looks a worthwhile series.
This book takes us back before what most folks consider to be history, back before the Romans, the Greek, the Egyptians, those places we consider 'ancient' or 'Classical,' to the generations that lived in Mesopotamia long before.  The poor teaching of history, both professional and popular, leaves out what happened in what is now southern Iraq, even though it is considered to be the place humanity apparently began to settle so long ago.  Certainly where the book begins, 3600 BC, large towns were in existence and the usual problems known to us today bothered them also.  Uruk I think it was had 25,000 folks crammed inside the mud brick walls, although many may have dwelt outside of course. Personally I wanted to go further back but if you have no knowledge this is a good place to begun as here at this time writing begins.
As population growth continued small city states developed into empires.  Some were quite keen on peace and prosperity, others were somewhat rough.  It is interesting to see how many leaders built an empire but encouraged people to live peaceful lives.  The Assyrians however were clearly different in this.  While others revealed their works by carvings on walls depicting the temples and cities they built, the Assyrians depicted the king as waving his bow about, taking cities and chasing wild animals.  His peace was putting hooks in the noses of the rebellious.  
This is an interesting, delightful short read, with takes us from a temple document at Uruk in 3100 BC to the Persians ending the Babylonian empire around 500 BC, ish.  If you know nothing about such an important period, and much of what we know was known then, this book is worth a read.  Of course there are problems, the woman who wrote it was American!  This shows clearly in the grammar ....tut! 

      
Life is not fair.  These chaos arrived to entertain the kids and found rain and gloom.  Some sun on Saturday for them and a wee bit more on Sunday but not much and by teatime they are dismantling everything to head off to the next place.  The town was quiet at the weekend, a Carnival in a nearby town taking the kids away.

Yet when once they leave the sun shines.  Not that I have seen much of this. They claim, as they always do, the sun will be a belter tomorrow and Friday and warnings have been issued.  Climate change is occurring and we had better realise this.  Could it really be the end of the world this time?  Maybe we had better give that some serious consideration.

They done it again.  Out of the blue this appears outside my window, badly parked,  and no polis in sight!  Why?  What were they doing?  Who were they visiting?  Why do they never explain their movements to me, that's what I want to know.  All this integrity for them, they will never get to be Chief Constable if they insist on doing the job properly I'll tell you that! 

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