Wednesday Half Hearted Post

I have attempted to post for three or four days now but frankly could not be bothered.  Pressure of laziness wore me out...
Yesterday I was unable to post as I had to work, the kids came in to the museum for music, that is Bongo Drums and noise.  I remained at the far end away from the noise and had to contend with the mums and kids.  This I like as kids are different!  Kids views on the world are limited to the family, school and whatever they have around them.  Each one is at one and the same time different yet the same.  The same daft actions bring similar responses yet they also act in distinct manners.  So one will laugh while another finds something humorous but has a reply to fit.  At least when leaving all who I asked were genuinely happy to have visited and enjoyed themselves.  Mum will have brought many back each day this week, cheap, safe and easy for them.  

 
Not so easy for me as my replacement took the day off to enjoy her friends birthday leaving me doing overtime.  My egg roll did not help my diet (3 pound lost) and cost me £2:50.  The working late meant I missed my siesta which leaves me tired even today and also left all yesterdays jobs still to do.  They can wait until tomorrow now...

Last night, struggling to keep awake, I watched part of the wimmins football that was on BBC Alba.
While it was fast paced enough, with commitment, effort, no little skill, it was clear that this is 'Girly' football.  Put this triumphant side up against any male side in the world and they will be defeated easily. 
Now I have no objection to girly football as such however I have much objection to the lie that tries to put this on a par with proper male football, it isn't and never shall be.  Such an attitude is part of the lie that attempts to make men and women the same under a lie of 'equality.'  We are 'equal' but we are made to be different.  The satanic lie is to scrub that difference and confuse people, it works well today.  Too often we read of some famous (usually an actor) person claiming they will not force their son to be a man but let him 'find himself!'  Yeah right!  'Bring up a child in the way he should go' I say, you will not do that trying to sand back will you?  Instead the strongest influence in the house, in these cases probably the mum, will fill the kids head with her feminist views, whatever they are.  Feminist views are in the eyes of the beholder, there is not a 'ten commandments' for them, they are a mishmash published in book, magazine and media, a confusion of thought with no single driving purpose except make the woman think she has been cheated and is missing out.
She isn't.  Men 'miss out' as much as women, men suffer as much, men do not have the ability however to sell the gutter press by whining about their lot, women can.  We see in the BBC the epitome of such slanted views on sex and 'gender.'  Women are forced into everything, radio pop stations, football reporting and elsewhere, often clearly not fitting and yet grumbling about this is dismissed.  We are not allowed to complain.  Why a women footballer should comment on TV football when men from the lower leagues are not considered fit to do so is a clear sex bias.  Why mediocre women are filling the BBC World Service today when in the past better journalists were removed, often female, to make way for them puzzles me, probably employed because they are cheaper.  Ah cheaper!  If women earn less in business surely the boss would employ more women than men?  They don't do they?  There must be another reason.
Anyway I was quite happy watching the girly football but it is not equal to the male game and never will be.  When will the hype cease?

Now, can I go back to sleep...

Up the Old Railway

It was quarter to six in the morning, the sun shone from behind the trees in the east, the wood pigeons sat bleary eyed on the fencing staring into nowhere, I climbed aboard the dirty, ramshackle bike and headed west.
Having filled the tyres with fresh air the day before I was prepared for the journey.  I had not bothered to check the gears, brakes or anything else as I knew all would be well, at first I was wrong, the gears took a while to remember what to do.
I passed through the market centre dodging the early Burger vans setting up for the Saturday Market.  The market is indeed an ancient one beginning in 1199 when the Bishop of London, who had inherited the land from the Theign Athelric, got permission from King John by promising him taxes could be raised this way, John agreed and also agreed to a similar market in Chelmsford which more or less exists today.  The cattle and sheep have been replaced with Burger vans, fruit and veg stalls, and on monthly occasions a variety of items produced in a desperate fashion to reinvigorate the town.  Lowering the rates on shops might help but the council see that as a bad idea.
Peddling down the High Street, another new invention in medieval times, I find the way very rough. A while back the road was relaid using red bricks and looked marvellous, since then buses and vans running over its length have turned it into a glacial like mountains range, cycling is harder here in town than in the old railway.  The road from London crosses Braintree where it meets 'Stane Street' running from Colchester west.  Whether it was the wealth produced by the market or the Bishop deciding to reroute the road in favour of his dwelling on, appropriately, Chapel Hill, is unclear but this new way became the High Street.  Next door to the shop on the corner, the blue fronted one, lies an ancient house which has served as a hotel of sorts for some years.  The owner once told me a wooden pillar in the house had been dated to, I think, 1387 AD, which indicates the ages behind some of the shop fronts.  Most now have Victorian or more recent fronts but behind that lies ancient years and memories.

Slipping, and I mean slipping, past the church which has stood for almost a thousand years, probably on the base of a Saxon wooden edifice, and the houses nearby cover what were Roman graves, I head for the traffic lights on the old London Highway.  I note on old documents they referred to a road as a highway at all times.  Mr MacFarlane would be happy on this once dirt track wandering through the woodlands heading on a pilgrimage to Bury St Edmunds.  Edmund died 869 AD so such pilgrimages continued until Henry VIII removed them in religious zeal, so he could marry again.  A busy road for many years.
At the lights few realise that to our right stood an Iron Age settlement.  In the gardens round about the occasional grave can be found if you dig deep enough, usually Iron Age, occasionally a family argument.  Not wishing to ponder this I continue past the Victorian houses which appeared as wealth grew and farmland was bought out and turned onto the pavement in a bid to beat two early morning joggers (and they needed to jog) to the old railway line, the 'Flitch Way.'

There was of course no real requirement to build this railway line, joining Braintree to Bishops-Stortford, the line from Braintree had connected to the Liverpool Street line since 1848 but the railway company was afraid that their line from London to Cambridge might be compromised by a competitor running from London through Bishops-Stortford to Norwich, the answer was to run a line across their plans and so this line came to be in 1869, after the usual squabbles, usually about money. 
The public came for a while however after the Great War lorries took away much of the freight and charabancs took the public leaving them almost at their doors while the railway line was often a mile from the villages themselves.  By 1952 the last train ceased and twenty years later freight also failed and the rails were removed.  Hard work by the Rangers, that is Essex Rangers who maintain the ground not a football team, has enabled the way to be a perfect rest from town life.  Those who plan to place over 500 hundred houses alongside the way require removal to Afghanistan in many folks opinion.

  
Having spent so much time indoors I was happily surprised by the verdant way as I passed.  The Rangers had maintained the way so well it was a corridor of green all the way up.  Funny how at this time of the year the colours disappear and green and white become the main draw.  Only a handful of colourful plants were noted, most were white flowers. 
The picture shows part of the land that a local developer wishes to change into housing to his advantage.  Several hundred houses could replace this view, much to everyone's disgust.  I can understand the farmer wishing to cash in, farming is not a great winner and Brexit brings no guarantees with it so I understand his wish to sell out.

I think this is the farmer who wishes to sell the land.  The future for such as he is not clear and it is understandable if they will seek other revenue.  I note the horse and the gymkhana material to the side which is new.  Further up there were four young ponies chasing each other around their field happily and I would imagine they will spend time this week carrying little Tabitha and her friends over the jumps.

I must be at least a year or more since I rode up here.  The weather was wonderful as I headed up the slope, only one old lass being overprotective to her ageing dog was to be seen.  The air was filled with the scent of lush foliage and I breathed deeply as I rode.  There again I have to breathe deeply when on the bike, puffing like the wee tank engines that one crawled up the slope at 25 mph overtaking the likes of me with little effort.  It was wonderful to be out this far and being empty with even the bypass traffic lessened at this time there was a kind of silence filled only by bird song and rabbits rustling through the undergrowth.   

While installing the railway and the new station the engineers had to build the new bridge.  The road until this time crossed the line, it still does, but it was felt that it was better a bridge went up to enable people safely to cross and avoid holding up all the horse and carts desperate to rush through their day.  Houses were being built on the other side and a new road was put in.  In keeping with the standards of English villages life, the street through the village was called 'The Street,' so the new street was given the name 'New Road,' a name it keeps to this day.  The road that led to the school, now converted into very expensive housing, retains the name 'School Road.'  This however was far enough for me today so I turned the bike around and slowly trundled down the still quiet slope.

I stopped occasionally on the way down to listen to the birds singing but discovered silence each time.  It appears they were watching me carefully and only sang when I had gone.  The rabbit holes that have existed half way up for as long as I have been here were empty, not that I looked in, but I wondered about the life a rabbit has deep down underground all his life.  Underground in safety I suppose as there were rabbits to be seen but quick to run for it when I passed.

Jemima here had been sitting chomping leaves when I appeared.  Her friend had no hesitation in running but she is either brave or stupid enough to wait until I had taken her picture before she moved.  How do I know this is a she, well can you prove me wrong?

Very few brightly coloured plants now, the rabbits must have been busy.  The predominate colour is now white.  Do the wee beasties prefer this?  Does this attract them at this time of year?

Canny mind what this is called but it was abundant today.  All along the way there was verdant greenery with this plant filling in the spaces.  

The summer weather (is it summer yet?) never fails to surprise.  While I was attempting and failing to capture the sunshine behind me a large black cloud was forming and hiding itself behind the trees.  

At the bridge, where my lack of fitness made me get off and push both ways up the slope leaving me feeling so guilty about this that I refuse to tell Dave in case he cuts me off, I stopped to attempt a picture of the light rainbow.  Not too bad an effort and a rare sight for me.  I did not hang about as I realised another cyclists hint is 'always carry a cap' as rain will fall.  I knew it would not rain and was naturally drookit by the time I got home.  

   
Raindrops falling while the sun shines blindingly ahead of me.  Not a great picture but indicates the rain at this time.  One hundred yards down the road, when I got home, the rain stopped.

A delightful morning, home for three sausages, three egg omelette, and two rolls left from earlier in the week, almost fresh enough.  Then back to bed!  So glad I am fit enough to travel a just a few miles on the bike, hopefully this continues. 

Book, Theresa, Slippery...

 

In between hoovering the floor, ironing all my shirts bar one, pumping up the bike tyres in the hope my knees will let me use it this weekend, doing a little exercise also and sorting this and that I managed to find time to read a bit more of this book.  At times the author is pretentious, uses words that make me search the Thesaurus, and list eight or nine items when three would do and gives the impression he would be a bore if trapped next to him in a pub however I found I had to read on to finish the chapter which I had in my hand.Of course today I read about him walking the 'Broomway' of the Essex coast so there is always hope that the tide will come in and give a happy ending.

I think it is worth a look but in small chapters...

     

The fake smile has gone at last.  The media make a big thing about her tears but are they tears of sadness or is this the tears of an angry woman annoyed at being forced out from the job she feels entitled to?  I would have sympathy had I seen her tears for the people forced out of the country while leaving behind spouses and often sick relatives, or those making use of the food banks, or had she avoided wasting billions on Brexit while refusing to help a steel industry.  This vicar's daughter needs to read the Book of Amos now she is looking to sign on, I hope they offer her employment...

 

I have as yet not heard from him, possibly he is at the Bookies attempting to claim his winnings?  A man like him must have had a bet on when she would go.

MEP Vote

I went out today expecting to meet with foaming at the mouth wild eyed loons muttering "Farage for King" but when I entered the hall there was nobody inside!  Indeed instead of two tables only one was in place and on enquiring I discover no more had voted for an MEP than voted at the last election for a local councillor.  Shocked was I as I had anticipated the elderly 'Daily Express' reader would be desperate to vote.
So I made my choice (only one cross allowed today and that for a party, not an individual though all names were mentioned) placed it in the near empty box and was then forced to make coffee for the girl at the desk to keep her awake.
If this is reflected across the 'East' region then it will be 'remain' types who get in.  The usual mob were on the ballot paper plus 'Change UK,' the 'Brexit Party' and one independent who apparently wishes to teach us about 'Healthy living.'  I am not sure he will win...
Having then sat in the museum chatting to the young ladies before being turfed out as unwanted I perused the shops, spending little, and wandered home to upset the neighbours by doing the laundry and shaking the house, they were in when they ought to be out paying for my pension, serves them right!
I await the results of this vote with interest and hope that nice Mrs May stuffs her party before leaving by announcing a 2nd Referendum.  That will end things but it will possibly keep her in office for a while.  Boris will be upset.

There was more to say but I watched the Dundee United v St Mirren play off instead...  
 

Vote Daily Mail?

You have to laugh at the 'Daily Mail.'  Not just because of the 'Online Mail's' staff's inability to spell or check facts before posting but because of the desperate headlines.  Tonight for instance we once again have a headline informing us 'May to go on Friday,' which is a surprise as this morning they were claiming 'May to resign tonight.'  Every day for about three years they have claimed 'May to resign' yet she s still here.  Maybe she does not read the hacks?  Maybe it is just the DM pandering to the 'wild eyed loons?'  Either way the facts appear distant from this publication although this is not a surprise as we all know that nobody knows any facts and all is 'smoke and mirrors.'  
To make up for the loss of 'Leavers' the DM is hard at work plugging royalty.  Geordie the editor keeps in with royalty, Prince Andrew is a favourite and his benefit scrounging daughters get good coverage in the DM, also Meghan is always seen as the baddie in the soap opera, whether true or not, and today there was another 'insider' telling us who she isn't popular with.  The fact the royals do not sue might change if they annoy her, if she is the type they portray she will not withhold legal action, good on her I say.  
Further down one of the favourites, I forget which there are so many hangers on there these days, has been playing around in the 'Garden Show' and getting good PR from that alongside the kids.  I did not bother to note however.
The usual thieves, sickness (why do people rush into print about their illness?), celebs, and naked women fill the pages with sentiment high on one story and slanted anger on another.  One is left wondering what sort of people these 'journalists' are that produce such crap?  There again what does it say about me reading it?  I like to stir it a wee bit with the sheep of course but when you consider so many really believe, or wish to believe what is written therein the 'Daily Mail' it leaves me wondering about the depth of human nature once again.

Tomorrow we vote again.  The MEP's will be anxiously awaiting the word before they prepare their call to the accountant and tell him where to hide the cash.  Farage has made enough out of it already, via Aaron Banks, and will lose millions if he loses his job in the EU parliament.  Funny reaction from the Lib-Dem leader whatsisname on a broadcast with Farage, when asked 'What would be the first thing Lib-Dems would do if elected?' He replied 'Turn up and do their job.'  Farage of course never attends unless to make a wee film.
I expect the 'Wild eyed loons' will be out in force tomorrow and there may be blood on the museum steps after I go into the hall to vote.  The sheep might not like anything I say...  

Maudlin Monday

Once again we note that that nice US president has been watching 'Fox News' again.  We can tell be cause he has discovered that Iran is a problem and he must declare war on that ancient land.  The war he is now working on, between MacDonald's and Coke, is one that continues the Syrian war the Saudi's and that nice Israeli president started and failed with.  They had intended to curtail Iran by attacking the proxy Syria but having failed, thanks to Russia's intervention, another nice man the Mr Putin, the Middle East rulers now wish a direct US attack on Persia.
The Persians will tell you they go back to Cyrus the Great which means they have been around since he died, at war, in 530 BC.  As such they consider all nations around bar China and India and newcomers and the variety of Arab states they treat with undisguised contempt.  This is not helped when Iran takes the Shia Muslim line and the majority of the rest take the Sunni line, something ignored when Britain and France and the rest divided up the middle east after the Great War.
Today the west's interference has removed almost all Christians from the area, most Jews and all those of lesser faiths either diminish or suffer according to passing fashion.  Such interference continues, with Trump following whatever he is told, a 'hawk' or two in the White House demanding action similar to that dealt to Iraq and again uncaring re the millions who will suffer and die, including their own men of course, they have never been considered by leading politicians.
World War 3 will begin on Twitter...

Getting away from that I have put aside all my other reading and become captive to this small book.  This is one of several found in Waterstones, the 'Penguin Monarchs' series, and so far I have rushed through this easy to read history of William the Conqueror.  Ideal for train journeys, flights, sitting in the loo, the short easy chapters inform, educate and bring to life well known monarchs, all from the past obviously, and appear worth the £4:99.
I have got one or two others to read also and I think this is a good way to get to know the past.  One thing I wonder concerns the rumours of how he married his wife Matilda.  Nothing is said re him pulling her off a horse or battering her or raping her to ensure a marriage.  Maybe these rumours were out of place or too much of a rumour to put into a short book?  Being short it cannot cover all ground right enough.
Enough good information is given however to review the character of the man.  Usually we hear a little half hearted basic information concerning some great man and once we investigate for ourselves we quickly discover things are not quite as we have been told.  William was indeed a religious man, not just for show either.  He placed reforming Archbishops into Canterbury and Rouen  and listened to their spiritual counsel.  This enabled him to rule humanely and judge justly.  We forget or know little about what went before but William improved life for many, even when treating this who opposed him severely.  One aspect unknown to me was the vast degree of slavery in England and Wales at the time, this William outlawed!  Once again a foreigner came to England and freed the English from themselves!  His piety was real but his wrath no less real, opponents felt this but I suspect the reason many disliked him in England was the tax he raised, mostly from those who had the money to spare.
I have finished this book, unputdownable and quickly read. 
I like this one.

Guardian

It is most unfortunate that the Electoral Commission, a somewhat tardy organisation today, has been forced by one time Prime Minister Gordon Brown to step in and investigate the flow of money onto the Brexit Party coffers.  It appears money is coming from outside the UK via PayPal which converts the cash into £s from whatever source and in Brexit eyes does no wrong.  Foreign cash as you know is not acceptable in funding political parties at an election.  It could be our man might be forced out, tsk the 'establishment' again!

Friday Frippary

Thursday lunchtime I took the airport bus, air stewardess included as always, to the good quality charity shops.  There the rich dispose of their worthy items long before you and I would do so.  I searched all four shops, although this was difficult in one as it was closed, but found nothing whatsoever worth looking for.  How mean of them, don't they realise I need a new jacket?  
I did however visit my favourite card shop, Oxfam!  
There is no doubt the cards on offer here, often misusing old photographs, are very clever and full of wit, something missing in so many 'funny' cards today.  I had to buy some as with all these wimmin having birthdays I found my collection of cards were all aimed at men.  This was unfortunate.  Now I am ready for the next woman as long as she does not want anything like money to go with it...
Lovely short bus journey passed green fields, Barley almost ripe, sun glinting on farm machinery and one single farm worker as he prepared his field.  No EU workers on sight, I suspect Theresa has sent them all home so it will be big crops around here from now on.  

The problem with birds is their great ability to see something they wish for and then go get it.  The trouble they then fond is they cannot work out how they got in and therefore how to get back out again.  The Robin has been in, a Blue Tit the other day, another one was found on the window today and yesterday this young Starling worked out how to get in and then screamed blue murder because he could not get out.  
You will notice the mess on the window, this comes from the dust from the stuff they are feeding on these days.  The shop cannot get the usual seed pellets, someone appears to be arguing over money, and what is on offer is not good enough for these brutes.  It also has left a lot of dust down the wall and with no rain to speak off it is not getting washed a way. My neighbour might speak to me soon...

Today the plan was simple, eat a good breakfast and then eat little until evening, great idea.  
I had a good breakfast and fell asleep.
After this I spent all morning on this laptop either reading the grubby papers and arguing with Brexiteers or listening to the 'iPlayer,' sorry 'BBC Sounds.'  It was indeed better as the iplayer but there you go, someone has £10 million to spend and so it must be spent even if in a daft and needless manner.
The radio was good and it took me till after two to remember to get out and get milk, but I fell asleep instead.  This has not been a great day...

I see that nice Mr Farage has been taken apart twice this week, once by Andrew Marr of Sunday and then by a Channel 4 newsman the other night.  The vast wealth he has been given by Aaron Banks, who does not disclose where his cash comes from, is helping him with his Brexit Party as it did with his dying UKIP party.  It is interesting to note he has arranged it so no 'member' of his new party can influence decisions, only he can, with two others, very democratic.  
The sheep rose to the occasion claiming all this was a smear campaign against Farage by the 'establishment.'  How he has them hoodwinked.  There is a kind of blindness which hangs over Brexiteers, facts do not deter the need for Brexit, the emotion goes deep and no fact lies behind it so it cannot be opposed.  The opposite is occurring and if a second referendum is given they will all vote 'Leave' with more belief and yet with few facts.  I see Scunthorpe is losing 900 jobs because of Brexit from the plant that is the mainstay of the economy yet North Lincs voted strongly in favour of Brexit, what did they expect?  
The more I hear of Farage the more I think of  Alcibiades the chap Thucydides wrote about after the death of Pericles through the plague.  His view was that Pericles spoke for the good of the nation, Alcibiades was in it for himself, and it appears so.  It is also interesting that Boris Johnson is a great Thucydides fan, I wonder who he sees himself as?
I would explain this on the 'Daily Mail' forums but the sheep would not comprehend.  Anyway they would see them all as foreigners!  

We can always take our minds off Brexit by watching the US attempt another war this time against Iran.  It is unknown if Trump realises what he is doing here or indeed if he knows what is going on but Spain, Germany and the Dutch among others have withdrawn their forces from the US alliance in the Gulf.  The US will be on their own in Iran, bar the Conservative Party that is.

Annoyed!

As you know I never get annoyed, I am always laid back...
However when I received my replacement driving licence, the one I got ten years ago has never been used as I have not got the cash for the vehicle, I was annoyed.  The details were OK but on the right hand side as illustrated is shown a disgusting English flag!
This moronic emblem has been dumped there by the Tory Brit nationalists to impose the union on the Celtic states.  Those who demanded their own flag have been rudely rebuffed and like me now find this wretched emblem on the licence.  How disgraceful and annoying!
I was tempted to send it back and even worse to run out and buy a car and drive up to Scotland just because.  Instead I sat in my bed watching Raith Rovers struggle against Queen of the South.  This did not help as it was not very exciting until the last 5 minutes but at least it was Scotland glimpsed.

  
Intrigued to find that this gentleman, Mr Rees-Mogg, has written a history book concerning famous Victorians.  I did not look to seek this book out ans another gentleman, one A.N.Wilson, who has also written a book re Victorian individuals has apparently reviewed the Rees-Mogg effort.

"Jacob Rees-Mogg has written a history book. The Times's reviewer calls it "staggeringly silly", "morally repellent", "clumsily written" and "pompous."

Sniggering a wee bit I may just pass this one by... and no, I didn't bother seeking out the title, it didn't appear worth the effort.

Spring Day (Depending on how you determine Spring and Summer).

This evening I have been entertained by the sound of summer outside my window.  Standing on the chimney stack next door this chap has been happily informing the world of his whereabouts, or possibly asking for her indoors whereabouts, and while it meant one thing to the bird life around here it sounded magnificent to me indoors listening.  

This follows on from the bird song heard while wandering around the gardens earlier on my way to browse the charity shops.  Blackbirds, also members of the Thrush family, entertained as I attempted to photograph things that would not stand still.  This while avoiding the glaring neurotic looks of the mums lounging around the park with the toddlers.  That is one of the problems of the Gardens, when the sun shines people fill it and get in the way.

How different life is when you have some energy and the sun shines!

Tiring Saturday

I have been forced to remain locked indoors as there is a constant stream of football to be watched today.  So far I have had Aston Villa v West Brom, not counting falling asleep at the start of the second half, and await whatever is next.  After watching the Aberdeen Hearts game on Friday night I need reminded as to what football is all about, there was none on show there.
Three more games lie ahead, with similar tomorrow.
Not much else is getting done....

It was during the monotony that resulted from Derby County's inept attempt at goalscoring that I browsed the book 'The Old Ways.'  Mindful of Jenny wishing to read and Fly having considered his precious book 'precious' I ventured inside one Leeds United had taken a comfortable lead.
The first thing that struck me was the paper used, very nice and suitable for a book of this subject, but a bit 'precious?'  Look I am listening to you not reading for myself.  The next thing was the immediate confrontation of four, yes FOUR, pages of review blurb!  People of all sorts from all parts of the wide globe were informing me how good this book was.  I thought one page of blurb usual but four was a bit, er, 'precious' right enough.
However I went straight to first chapter 'Tracks,' and read the first piece as 22 men humped and punted one another about the field to the accompaniment of 'encouragement' from men of limited vocabulary.  In this chapter the author walks out into the snow one dark night and proceeds out of town and across the fields following the tracks left behind in the snow by beasts of the night.  An atmospheric walk and quite enjoyable.  Was it a bit 'precious?'  With that thought in mind I could see what was meant and yet look forward to the next chapter, 'Path.' The reading offered a different perspective from what was on offer in front of me as I read.  Maybe that helped...?

Day Out to Caesaromagus

Late last night I decided to risk a trip into Caesaromagus and make use of the book vouchers in Waterstone's shop. So by ten this morning I was on the Zimmer bus, after almost failing to get my ticket out of my new wallet which had swallowed the thing!  So we soared of past green crops rising in the acres around, aged houses sparkling in the bright sunshine and young women in bright outfits brightening the view.  They ignored me...

It all appeared remarkably quiet, possibly folks made use of the Monday holiday and stayed away now the kids were back at school, possibly I was just lucky.  I clambered upstairs in the shop and browsed the books on the tables, on the shelves and at times found it quite depressing as there was nothing obvious to buy.  That is there were many interesting books but not ones that grabbed me and forced me to take home, which is disappointing.  The idea of laying books on tables is because it apparently sells them better than standing on the shelf facing the customer, it is better for me viewing them certainly even better had I brought my other glasses with me so I could see properly indoors!

All went well, not counting the females ability to walk through you in a shop demanding you move or totally ignoring your presence.  It would be easy to make use of rude words and offer suggestions on correct behaviour, old women are the worst!  
I proffered the books at the desk where the efficient staff man took care of me, indicating the £25 card had only £20 on it and reminded me never to trust a woman!  However I paid the difference and collected the new bonus card which is being used by Waterstone's and made my way elsewhere. Until recently a small card received a red stamp on every occasion £10 or more was spent.  A good idea however some staff were fiddling this, one man has just been dealt with for acquiring £11,000 worth by fiddling the cards this way and so a more secure computerised card has been introduced.  Some staff will not be happy...

Home via the gardens and the butcher in the market.  Plenty of sausages and chicken in the freezer now!  Then stumble up the road to await the transport with the happy people.  Interested to note the growing number of those sleeping rough during the day in public places.  Do they think this will get them sympathy in this city?  I could not decide why this was the case, mostly this sight has been seen in Camulodunum, a far rougher town, so what causes the change and are these folks local?

Back home I delighted in my day, the first time this year I have been out of town I think.  How nice to almost think I am getting fitter.