Tier 3 Handymen with Pies!

 

We have an electrician somewhere in the building.  He is 'finishing off' what he started some weeks ago.  'Finishing off' means 'repairing' as far as I can see, but I may be wrong.  He started in flat 2, has moved to flat 3, and is most probably in his van scoffing cheese sandwiches as I write.  I just wish he would come here, finish the job, and depart so I can get on.  

Ah!  Thumping in the stairwell, such banging can only indicate a professional is at work.  I have let him in and moved away so he can make a mess far from me.  I had better get the hoover out...

Yesterday I awaited another electrician, this one would change the electric meter for a 'smart meter' so I can save the planet and avoid struggling up and down the stairs into the basement.  I waited most of the day before he arrived.  He was friendly efficient and wasting his time.  These meters require a phone signal, which they cannot receive in the basement.  Further, being on the 1st floor meant the meter could not reach that far to the wee box that would give me a read out.  It was interesting to note the meter number the man had differed from mine!  I have only had the meter about 20 years, and he claimed it was the newest one there!  So that days wait was a waste.  Poor man was so helpful I felt for him wasting his time.   

With the worker arriving I thought I had better head to Tesco early.  A quick scoot around and I got almost all required, bar the things I forgot!  At the checkout two of the girls were getting anxious, they often do near me, but as the supervisor came over I noticed a drugged up chap heading past me for the door.  The girls stopped him and attempted to remove the bottle of 'Captain Morgan' rum and two beer bottles from him while next to me.  He was unwilling so I grabbed his arm and the rum and they got the beer as he ran for the door.  Complimentary words were ushered in his direction as he staggered out.  Attempting to rob while on drugs is not the best way.  Both he and his brother are often at it, well known to the stores here.  It's all rather sad really, it shows how desparate the boys are, it upsets the girls who have to intervene, but it did make me a wee bit more popular by aiding them.  No discount mind! 

So far it has been a busy week.  The church met on Sunday, masked, discliplined, "Don't touch the seat" even though you sit on them, no singing, and no conversation until outside in the rain!  

Jesus was there so it was worth it.  

Nothing has been 'settled' this week.  Always something online, email, handyman, or Christmassy to deal with.  I even missed Northern Irish football last night because of this!  

My life can be hard at times.

Now when the electrician returns, he has done a bit and will finish it in and hour - he says, and after that I have peace until Thursday when the new washing machine arrives.  If all goes well!

 

 

 

Of course it may be the imposition of Tier 3 on Essex may stop the vanmen delivering my machine.  I may remain smelling like a sewage dump for a wee bit longer if that is the case.  While all agree 'LockDown' is justified, and after the open invitation from the chancellor to 'eat out' spreading the infection it is not surprise people are sick.  Add to this those who gather in crowds claiming the virus is a hoax, and indeed the many Tory writers in the media lying in their teeth about the virus and its effects, yes Allison Pearson I mean you!  These things encourage people to be slack re distancing and meeting people with the inevitable result.  The ones who suffer are the grans and granddads trapped indoors unable to meet grandchildren, or those unable to get out and remain lonely with no-one to care.  The confusion as to what is allowed, shops open, gyms open, pubs serving takeaways, schools open even though many spread the virus...it's all a mess!  I accept such organisation is difficult but the whole thing is still shambolic and will remain so for some time.

 

 

Once again my 'settled' life is upset.  I ordered 24 Scotch Pies from Murdochs in Forres, and waited expectantly, with fridge and freezer door open and awaiting eagerly.  Today they arrived, or at least only 12 arrived!  One box, 12 pies while 24 paid for!  

I e-mailed them at once, hastening to the laptop while storing the goods away.   So far only an automatic 'your goods have been delivered' e-mail has been received.  I hope they reply soon or they may get an expensive phone call from an upset customer...

I bet they are laughing in Costa Rica...

 

 

Front Pages!

 

 

It was to be an 'Oven Ready Deal.'  There would be 'sovereignty,' we would trade freely with the world, 'our' fishing would be protected, farmers would be paid, opportunities would appear everywhere.

Now we have 'Gunboats' in the channel?

Where are these 'gunboats' when Russian trawlers or Naval vessels pass close to Scottish waters?  They do not appear at those times, what vessels we have left are on the English south coast.   It is said the Royal Navy has put FOUR ships on standby to fight off French Trawlers.  Commando's are ready to leave helicopters and land on offending 'Frogies!' But surely we had a deal, didn't we?  The propaganda promised there would be a deal!     

Of course there is no deal, 'No Deal' was always on the cars, it is what the 'Hedge-Fund' men want, they will make a killing from this.  One, Crispin Odey, is said to have bet £300 million on a 'No Deal.'  I cannot imagine Rees-Mogg is not also well into this, Farage and his friends will be rejoicing at 'No Deal.'  

Whether all these tales are true or not we must add the Russian influence on Boris.  Russian money has flooded into the Consrvative Party in recent years, and that Nice Mr Putin does not like to waste cash.  What was the purpose, bar separating the UK from the EU?   Who will benefit from the disaster that awaits us?  The Hedge-fund men, who will use their EU passports (bought from Malta possibly) to live abroad, the Russians, and Boris himself, lining his pockets to enjoy his soon to be retirement from politics.

 

A disaster looms, a nation gets the leadership its behaviour deserves.

 

The only other story in town, not counting the never ending, continuing Royal corruption/sycophancy ones, is the death of Barbara Windsor.  The poor lass died of age and dementia, and she never headed a ball in her life, and now is seen as a 'National Treasure.'  Playing a flirty bint most of her life gave her employment for long enough, I think she appeared in 9 'Carry On' films, and probably disliked them as much as the other cast members did.  However, an actor has to take what comes along.  At least Sid James liked her.

Now the tabloids are using her once again to line their pockets, not that they will do much for the dementia situation, but clearly, as with the royals, there is money to be made here!

 

Boris, EU, Charity Adverts

A friend, I do have them, in a far distant land, shares cheap Christmas tokens with me each year.  One year I received a pencil with a knot in it, another year a short string of glittering blue tinsel.  Obviously she does not appreciate the cost of the two tea bags I sent her!  This is her offering this year, possibly this could be construed as a political gesture, and with Boris now somewhere in the EU selling out so that he can obtain a 'No Deal' as he and his money changers have been looking for all along, then he can start blaming the EU for intransigence.  

I mentioned on Twitter last night that this trip was a scam, no deal was going to happen as 'No Deal' was what he has been looking for and this is just another balloon from the bumbling, lying balloon.  It was frightening to read peoples responses.  There is out there still a number, a large number, of people who believe in Boris.  People who consider 'No Deal' a good thing, people who do not think January 1st will lead to shortages, people who will not open their minds to anything but what they wish to believe.  While Boris panders to these people in Brussels his friends who demanded Brexit are all moving their business overseas.

 

I came across this German cartoon the other day and thought it appropriate...

On a slightly different subject, this morning I received a magazine, I can read yu know, and inside the plastic wrapper alongside said mag was an invitation to give a subscription to a friend, an advert for a 'Special Pensioners' hearing aid, though it did not qualify how to be a 'special pensioner,' an offer (£83 plus P&P) for 12 bottles of wine, considerably cheaper in Tesco I wish to point out, an advert for health insurance to rob us, and eight (8) requests for money from various charities.  Corum, Crisis, Blind Veterans, Trussel Trust, Lifeboats, Zane (who?), YMCA and Water Aid!  All this doubled the weight of the magazine!  Oh yes, and something dangerous was also included, a small advert, indeed a booklet, from an organisation calling itself PostScrpt.  This is a bookshop selling books!  

Comparing this to a pile of requests for charitable cash leaves me feeling too guilty to purchase a book.  And if guilt, and that is what lies behind such requests at this time of year, if guilt forces me to send cash how do I decide who to give it too?  No doubt that those charities among them that I know are worthy, the others probably are also or this mag would not allow them, but how to decide?  Are the young needy more important than old?  Or Blind more important because they were servicemen?  Do children come before families or Lifeboats? It can all become very confusing.

Naturally I dump them in the recycling bag.

I have given to various charities, month by month, sometimes for years, then if I had any cash I decided to let the money collect and give a bundle to something I truly thought worth it.  There are all around such places, from the Food Bank to local homeless hostels, young folks and the like, and there are always things near and far that could be helped.  I just like to imagine that what I give can do something for others.  My mates church in London helps the 'Street People,' many of whom sleep under bushes in Hyde Park, and weekly they give out foodpacks in these virus days.  This when the church income has been slashed, some 75% of the income has gone, and therefore so has many staff.  However, he believes the work must continue and Jesus will help.

Come January 1st we shall begin to see real need again.  What social services we have will soon face cuts, the NHS, over burdened still, will also be cut, and how many US investors will arrive?  The Food Banks may need more help, the people operating the food banks will also require assistance soon, 2020 is seen as a dark year, I suspect for many it will become darker.

 

 

Dementia and Fascism...

Guardian

 

This man is Steve Thompson, he won the Rugby World Cup in 2003, that's 17 years ago, and now appears to be suffering dementia.  Rugby Union has always been a rough sport.  Middle Class men showing off their strength to one other and to themselves, barging into one another with gay abandon and making light of injuries recieved and given, sometimes because of the game, sometimes deliberately to hurt.  The Gentleman's Sport!

I have always seen rugby union as rough, an excuse for violent attitudes to be released yet disguised as 'sport.' And since the introduction of 'professionalism' a few years ago the game got harder and more violent.  Big, well prepared men banging into one another cannot be expected to avoid long term damage.  Professionalism introduced larger, fitter, and bigger men, into the game.  Only now are we seeing the results.

Much publicity has been gven to football for old men suffering dementia, heading the ball is given as the reason.  Personally I accept that may well play a part, esepecially with those who were introduced to football via the Brown Leather 'Filly' Ball that once was the only option.  This ball, a mere pound in weight, soon doubled its weight as water and mud off the grubby pitches stuck.  The fact that pitches were not level, heavy with mud and water all added up to a heavy weight and this caused the ball to spend much more time in the air thus endangering those who were required to deal with it.  A 'Filly' hitting you in the face, even on a good day, could knock you out, as I once discovered!  The potential damage to centre halves in particular must have been serious.

Since the late 50's however a new type of ball was introduced, white in colour, easier to see, lighter, more resistant to gathering water, yet still with much improvements required.   The 'T' Ball was soon replaced by the 'Mitre' ball and in the last 20 years al sorts of ball made from a variety of substances have been introduced, thus lighter for the players and more hazardous for the goalkeepers as this type of ball swerves in the air more often.  

Several great Heart of Midlothian players have suffered this way, it is not known how many suffered in years that went before, as there are many ways to die, the NHS has in these times has given us a longer lifespan than that enjoyed by men of yore.  Yet not all old men suffer dementia, indeed many more women suffer this as any geriactric ward will testify, and they from a variety of backgrounds and intellectual levels.  David Holt, the great Hearts left back of the early 60's was seen in the paper recently, at 82, continuing to live with a normal brain capacity.  Laurie Reilly, the Hibernian centre forward died at 84 also fully in control of his mind so far as is known.  Indeed close to his death he was still working on match days as a 'welcomer' to the club visitors. 

Therefore it is not just heading a ball that needs investigation, there are many other threats that lead to dementia, what could they be?  Until around 1970 most men in football would have begun with the 'Filly' ball, men in rugby would have begun in the amateur game but the headbanging would have been similar throughout time.  Men born in the 30's may well have endured a poor upbringing, large family, poor nourishment, war rations, even military service, and I supect most, if not all, smoked.  Beer drinking also may have been constant and most men would finish their career by the age of 32 or so.

Later generations have learned about diet, fitness and health care but not all had such luxuries in the past.  So, how much does family background, age, diet and other possible infuelces have on dementia? It is likely banging heads in rugby, especially since the professional game began, has had effects, it is likely those heading the old ball in the past had an effect, yet not all suffer dementia.  

It is terrible to watch people suffer, and I am a wee bit unsure about those jumping to conclusions re the cause as they are doing at the minute.  Much more in depth research is required, not a tabloid led 'knee-jerk response.

 

The New European

 

You may not have know that the Labour Party had a 'Shadow Minister for Faith,' I did not even know we had a 'Minister for Faith,' but there again so many people are required to pretend there is a governing class that you never can be sure of what those MPs in Westminster are actually doing.  

This one, whatever else she did, if indeed she did anything at all, commented that "...that registrars who have a religious objection to same-sex marriages should be protected from losing their jobs if they refuse to certify the partnership."  Howls of anguish from the gay lobby!  Such howls that she has now 'stood down' from her role and claims she 'apologised sincerely for misjudged remarks.'

Really?

Misjudged?  Who says so?  Blatant discrimination against the conscience, now passed into Law, is clear and wrong, yet when this is stated she has to go?  We live today in a fascist state.  The morals of the people have no centre, they rely soley on what is most popular at the time, the idea of 'right and wrong' have been removed and replaced blatanly in front of us by 'Political Correctness,' a false morality that accepts what is wrong and rejects anyone who indicates that this is so.  Hence the murder of children kileld by abortion and the feeble excuses offered for this crime, the acceptance of same-sex marriage and gay behaviour as if it were normal.  The abuse of those who indicate such abnormal behaviour is unnatural is now common.  The lunatics now run the asylum.  

The vast majority keep quiet, not wishing to get into trouble, politicians join in as they want votes, the courts and media, now run by Oxbridge graduates who emerged in the 60's and 70's smoking dope and releasing their own problems onto the world now oppose those who speak the truth, they fail to understand why anyone would disagree with their view.  An open mind is not allowed in a Nazi state.  Soon the books will be getting burnt, look out for that down your street, it will be too late to object then.

I note this women stood down, offering feeble apologies so she might get another job later.  She spoke the truth but she clearly has no faith stronger than 'Look after number one.'  I suspect we will see her again, but she will not be worth listening to. 

 

Clebs and Vaccine...

 

The papers this morning offer many stories like this.  'B' celebs jumping on the cheap publicity bandwagon by volunteering to 'take the jab' to 'encourage' others to do the same.  Looking around the list and noting the growing demand (in the press) for royalty and other 'important' persons to be given the vaccine first I thought to myself how much they differ in approach to myself.  Instead of these needless individuals I suggest weeding the herd, avoid this lot, give the vaccine to those who need it, those in the forefront of society today, supermarket workers, postmen, dustbin men, nurses in hospitals and local surgeries, doctors, hospital staff, porters and receptionists, care workers and other support workers.   Give the vaccine to those who need it, keep it from those we can easily do without and by who's loss we would all benefit.  You can add all press men to those that do not require vaccinating also!

 

Nothing else happened...

 

 

Flu Jab for BBC ALBA

 

Early this morning I took myself round the corner for the Flu Jab.  Last year they gave this jab alongside the pneumonia one, a fortnight later I had a cold that lasted until May!  I await this year with trepidation. Today this was a case of joining the chilled people outisde the surgery, called in one door, ticked off a list, told to stand on the yellow mark, then ordered in, identified, jacket off, needle in, jacket on, out the other door and off to Sainsburys.

It all took around two minutes and the line was moving along happily.  I did suggest she spoke quietly when saying "You are over 65..."  but she refused to believe I was 32!  The girls in Sainsburys took a  smilar attitude in spite of my youthful looks. They did not believe I was blonde either, claiming my hair was gray.

I did not try this in the Butchers, not with those knives around. As I filled my freezer I noticed one butcher was butchering an entire sheep, I commented that it is many years since I have seen an actual animal in the flesh, or what flesh was left of it in any shop.  All comes in plastic packets today.  I clearly remember the butcher in Granton Road, sawdust on the floor for the blood, a long line of cows and sheep hanging from hooks on the wall beside us, and the man scribbling a note which mum passed to the lass behind a glass frame who took her money.  Cash being considered unhygenic!  This local butcher is very hygenic, and indeed well worth going to.  The shop is part of a chain in this area and moved in a couple of years ago when the previous man closed down, they have several shops in other towns, and his meat is worth having.  I did not ask for pies.

Now my freezer is full, meat lies awaiting in the fridge, so what could I have for tea?  Chips and tinned salmon!  Too tired to cook!

 

This afternoon I had a happy time watching the Heart of Midlothian dispose of a worthy Greenock Morton side at Cappilow.  Now it was claimed the last time we were there was 33 years ago!  I was last there a good few years before that, and there was no grass to speak off on the pitch in those days.  

Today however I ventured there by PPV TV.  A great idea that allows us to pay a small amount (£14 I paid this week, to see the game.  The fact that the thing switched itself off FOUR times before kick off did not endear me to the situation, others also suffering stalled pictures and blank screen.  No replay came to our cries.  However when the game began the picture remained constant and all was good, or as good as PPV TV can make it.

One thing stood out for me was that the camera used covered the football match!  By that I mean it watched the game, it did not desperately seek out the back of the managers head, needless replays, close up's of the back of players heads, more replays and following a player when the ball is in action rather than watch the game!    

This indeed was exactly what occurred when later I watched Motherwell disintigrate while playing Hibs.  I say watched, but I mean watched a collection of video Pannini stickers as BBC ALBA insisted on ignoring the game, as they usually do, instead searching out individual players for meaningless baloney from the Gaelic speaking commentators who ignore the actual game in front of them!

I sometimes feel this is done to force people to attend games in person, even now.

The PPV is a great idea, which I hope can be extended, some problems remain however.  The camera is I believe one of those 'A1' things, set to follow the ball.  This caused problems at one game when the camera insisted in following the bald head of the referee!  Maybe he ought to wear a cap?

Sky and Premier, it must be said, are just as bad.  Following the game is less important than the tabloid Hack seeking a story when none exist.

Bah!

 

 

Snow!

 

 

The horrible reality of winter arrived this morning.  I rose from a warm bed to find a cold floor inside and snow inches thick outside.  Snow, horrible, cold, dangerous stuff is not what I want at 7:40 in the morning!  I at once complained to the council and demanded it be stopped, cleared away and replaced by Spring sunshine.  I have to say that the man on the other end was somewhat unhelpful in my eyes.  Having no need to leave the house I was satisfied enough that others would be 'enjoying' the event, although I suspect the postman and all those delivery dfrivers that ring my bell to deliver to my neighbour will not be one of them...

Looking at the stuff falling cheerily from the gray skies above I considered upping to Portugal for the warmth.  It was then I remembered watching Portugese football the other day and the rain was pouring down!  Portugal is on the Atlantic also!  I mean it may be the 'Bay of Biscay' or some such but the effect is the same.  At least the rain is warmer there.  They chances of such luck are fading fast so I remain here, feet stuck under the radiator, awaiting Spring.

 

Scots Parliament

 

The Presiding Officer of the Scottish Parliament, one Ken MacIntosh, has announced that the proposed 5.1% increase on MSPs salaries does not go ahead.  With the struggling economic position of so many in the country and with the added problem of Covid, he tactfully omitted to say 'Brexit next,' it was felt that such an increase would be 'inappropriate.'  MSPs are paid £64000 or so a year and that incudes last years 1.4% increase.  Cabinet ministers, paid more, have had their salary frozen since 2008/9.  We await the situation with the £3000 a year MPs in Westminster have been awarded and have yet to accept or reject.  Some Bookies will make a mint on that decision!

 

 

Online Shopping

Such a busy day.  Yesterday, being the 1st of December, I posted my cards, some including cheap gifts.  Weighed, stamped, posted, I then sat down to order online the other items.  

I thought this would be straight forward, and to some extent it was, however there were difficulties.  For a start, the ideal gift suddenly did not look so good, the next in line was 'out of stock,' and selection of a suitable item was taking longer than intended.  How people survive who wait until the last week before buying I know not.  One problem was the various systems used by different companies.  Just because a  company has a straight forward website does not mean that paying is straightforward!  Oh no, filling in boxes, losing them, filling in boxes again and then paying, I chose to use 'PayPal' whenever because it is easy and indeed saved much time, filling in other boxes and then being offered extras!  One large company asked very strange questions 'for security.'  I almost changed my mind there as they did not use PayPal but their own 'Card' or 'paying system' which was on offer, however I used Visa at that one.  Eventually, by late afternoon, all this was over and Christmas was more or less complete. 

One or two things more to obtain which needs to be done next week and then there are the cards from forgotten folks to find.  I went out today and bought some more but ensured I first queried the situation with the Curate about cards at the church.  It will not be possible to exchange them in the normal pattern owing to Coronovirus, and I wished to save cash by not buying them to ensure people were aware of this.  Therefore I will use email cards this year again.  

The cards I bought were to fill gaps.

Naturally, I was wrong!

Today I spent hours searching for less pricey gifts for 5 people.  Once again I searched the web, once again my eyes were spinning looking at pictures of grossly overpriced goodies, once again I struggled to choose, once again I fought the buying system!  

Once again I eventually won!  How happy was I?  How smug and self-satisfied at my success!

Then I got an email from a woman asking "What?"

Somehow I got addresses mixed up and moved myself a mile down the road.

All sorted.

This means my expensive and intriguing gifts and last years left over cards begin to fall through letterboxes across the nation.  In the next week the gifts ought to all have arrived ensuring guilt rises within many hearts.  Some will scramble for cards, addresses, sellotape, wrapping paper, and scissors.  Some will scrutinise pages similar to the ones on the interweb I scurried through, many will use similar words as they choose, select, fight with systems, and they hope succeed with their quest.

I meanwhile will sit with a smug grin ready for the one or two slip-ups in my own work and awaiting the cards and presents pouring through my door.

Maybe I had better replace the batteries in that doorbell?

 

In between spending money I took a break and spent money.  To book into the Morton v Heart of Midlothian game I had to go onto their website and book.  I had to do this hurridley as it cost £14 and went up to £16 at midnight!  What a con I say!  All this to ensure they get a good idea of the numbers and obtain cash.  

Once again I logged in, filled in boxes, different from the East Fife, Alloa and Heart of Midlothian ones, got it wrong, at least it all disappeared, started again, finished, was told it had been removed, but it has gone through and has not been removed.  

I will find out on Saturday afternoon!

All this makes me wonder how government offices work, they still use old Microsoft OS I believe.  Civil servants everywhere must be pulling their hair out daily if it is anything like this.  I suppose they are used to it and can make an excuse for 'losing things' this way?

Andrew the Saint

                                                                www.LumoProject.com.

Who was this Andrew?

He was part of a decent fishing business up there in the north.  He and his brother Simon, working alongside Zebedee and his young sons James and John, were doing well on the Galilee lake.  John would take the fish as far as Jerusalem to sell, numbering the high and mighty Sadducee Chief Priests among his customers.  Andrew and his brother, indeed the whole family, were working Jews, living out their lives faithful to their God as well as possible.  However, Galilee was also a conduit for outsiders passing through and open to many non Hebrew influences.  Andrew's name reveals one such influence, it is Greek, not Hebrew.

However, the arrival of a Prophet at the Jordan was newsworthy enough for Andrew and the rest to head south to hear what this man had to say.  No prophet had appeared for amny years, this was a world shaking event and the people all wanted to see what it was all about.  Crowds gathered from all regions while day after day this man, called John, dressed in his quaint outfit, one of camels hair and held together with a leather belt, preached his word warning of 'One' who was to come and demanding repentance from the people.

This John demanded the crowds returned to Gods rule, he offered a Baptism in water for those who repented of their sins and returned to their God.  He also indicated answers to the many questions regarding how to do this all in line with the scriptures held in the synagogues everywhere.  

John demanded soldiers did not abuse their position, and held little back in his contempt of the Jewish authorities with regards to what he considered their hypocrisy.  His position was therefore a dangerous one, as authorities do not like being exposed.   They were also always on the lookout for religious troublemakers, and there were plenty in 1st century Judea and Galilee, Andrew, by becoming one of Johns disciples risked all by his adherence.

John referring to himself as a forerunner of "One who is to come" was likely to create many different images of this 'one.' Many differing ideas were in the heads of Johns disciples, did he mean a warrior perhaps, or a new King?  

 

 Free Bible Images

                

 

It is clear Andrew was looking for something and he found an answer with John the Baptist.  Many of the soon to be Jesus disciples were also in attendance and it is unlikely Simon his brother became a disciple of John, I suspect he would mention this in later years.  He was however still in the vicinity.  When one man from Nazareth came to John, underwent Baptism, and then disappeared into the crowd, it is likely Andrew never noticed him from among the others going through the water. John however, had declared him to be the 'One' yet Jesus remained almost unnoticed in the crowd.  

It was when Andrew and another of John's disciples heard John say "Look, the Lamb of God," that they went up to Jesus.  What do you say to a man a Prophet has proclaimed as 'The One?'  The two were dumbfounded as Jesus turned and asked "What do you want?"  A bit stunned they merely asked "Where are you staying?"  I think this a brilliant question when you meet someone considered more important than a prophet of God!    

Clearly impressed after an evening with Jesus we see Andrews reaction, he seeks out his brother Simon claiming "We have found the Messiah!"  Some statement as many were to be found at that time in the land.  No hesitation here, solid assurance that this man, here at the Jordan, was the Messiah, the Anointed One, the Christ!  Simon must have been a wee bit astonished himself when he meets this unknown man, he will at least the Galilean accent.  Jesus soon informsehim that he would change his name from Simon to 'Kephas,' the Aramaic for 'Rock.' (Written in Greek the New Testament uses the Latin term 'Petras' for 'Rock' as this would be better known to the readers. Hence 'Peter.').

The action speeds up here, Jesus returns to Galilee but first picks up Phillip, also from Bethsaida, Andrew and Simons home,  with the words "Follow me."   

A simple but life changing request.

Phillip is impressed and seeks out Nathanael who appears unimpressed by a saviour from Nazareth, indicating its lowly position.  Only when Jesus reveals his knowledge of Nathanael's inner spiritual life  does he then fall in.  

All these men were seeking something from John the Prophet.  I suspect all were baptised by him but this is never stated, all were Hebrews from the north, all faithful to their God as much as possible, all, like the rest of the society in which they lived, looking for the Messiah.  Now Jesus had his first four men and yet they did not understand him or really know who he was.

 

 

The timeline is not clear but it appears back home they return to their work, they may well have been away for sometime.  As I read it Jesus speaks to a crowd while standing in Simon's fishing boat, the crowd being too deep and close for him to be heard.  He teaches from the boat and afterwards tells Simon to go out and fish, even though Simon is doubtful.  He goes but he has been out all night and caught nothing, yet he goes at Jesus request.  An enormous number of fish are caught and when they return to shore Simon, with Andrew in attendance, falls at Jesus feet, "Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!"  For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s partners.  Andrew and the rest had met with Jesus, talked with him and now had a glimpse of the supernatural reality of this world.  Simon Peter understood this and had only one choice and that was to admit his natural sinful nature, the others will have been undergoing a similar experience.

It looks like Jesus let them go back to work to consider what had occurred then comes to the shore and calls them, along with James and John to 'Follow.'   Andrew the fisherman joins with the three and follows Jesus not knowing what lies ahead, leaving behind a good business and facing possible death.

The reality of life had hit Andrew and his fellow fishermen.  No matter how good the business a new reality forced them to face up to life. 

 

There now follows three tough years of discipling.  

Following Jesus was no picnic, for a start there were 12 Jesus had called 'apostles' and among the crowds were many equally close to Jesus, let alone the women who provided for him as he spread his message.   Andrew, though Simons brother, was not given the privileged acess to Jesus that his brother shared with James and John, I wonder if was jealous?  He did see the 5000 fed, Jesus walk on water, provision at wedding and the raising of the dead along with all sorts of healing.  The hardest job was the attempt to control the crowds, just imagine a Middle Eastern crowd!  along with the others Andrew was sent out to proclaim the message, heal the sick, cast out demons and call the nation to repent.  He had seen the power, but like the others he all too often did not comprehend what Jesus was talking about.

Andrew was in Jerusalem at the end, partook of the 'last supper' and was in Gethsemane when Jesus was arrested.  Like the rest he ran and hid while his Messiah died on a cross.  Only young John and the women stood near.  

Andrew was with the 12, now 11, when news of Jesus resurrection came through.  What did he make of it all?  Whatever he thought he was heartened when Jesus appeared amongst them, though they as loyal believers naturally thought he was a ghost!   Andrew also received the Holy Spirit and the commission to 'go and make disciples.' He was there on the day of Pentecost when full of the Holy Spirit the disciples spoke to Jerusalem and the world of Jesus rising from the dead and announced the one way of salvation as open to all.

 

St Paul's Outside the Wall

  

As often happens in scripture what matters is Jesus, God is important and honour must go to him.  Therefore few details of the end of the apostles can be discovered, indeed many would honour them and pray to them rather than Jesus more willingly if they could indeed discover their burial place.  

Andrew, some claim, went to Sythia and Thrace proclaiming Jesus and his death and resurrection.  Others believe he went to Ukraine.  All this is possible but little evidence can be found.  Churches in some places often determine who founded them according to how many visitors this would bring to the church or monastery.  

It is claimed by some that Andrew died on a cross at Patras in the northern Peloponnese.  The story goes he felt unfit to be crucified on a cross similar to Jesus and chose a 'saltire' cross instead.  It was not unusual for Roman soldiers to play with those condemned to death and often used various crosses and means of death.  Sympathy was often lacking.  If he died in AD 60 as some claim he would have been a mere 50 years old at most.   

 So, how come Andrew became patron saint of Scotland?

Wiki tells us this.

Several legends state that the relics of Andrew were brought by divine guidance from Constantinople to the place where the modern Scottish town of St Andrews stands today (Gaelic, Cill Rìmhinn). The oldest surviving manuscripts are two: one is among the manuscripts collected by Jean-Baptiste Colbert and willed to Louis XIV of France, now in the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris; the other is the Harleian Mss in the British Library, London. 

They state that the relics of Andrew were brought by one Regulus to the Pictish king Óengus mac Fergusa (729–761). The only historical Regulus (Riagail or Rule) whose name is preserved in the tower of St Rule was an Irish monk expelled from Ireland with Saint Columba; his dates, however, are c. 573 – 600. 

There are good reasons for supposing that the relics were originally in the collection of Acca, bishop of Hexham, who took them into Pictish country when he was driven from Hexham (c. 732), and founded a see, not, according to tradition, in Galloway, but on the site of St Andrews. 

 

or...

 

According legendary accounts given in 16th-century historiography, Óengus II in AD 832 led an army of Picts and Scots into battle against the Angles, led by Æthelstan, near modern-day Athelstaneford, East Lothian. The legend states that he was heavily outnumbered and hence whilst engaged in prayer on the eve of battle, Óengus vowed that if granted victory he would appoint Saint Andrew as the Patron Saint of Scotland. 

On the morning of battle white clouds forming an X shape in the sky were said to have appeared. Óengus and his combined force, emboldened by this apparent divine intervention, took to the field and despite being inferior in numbers were victorious. Having interpreted the cloud phenomenon as representing the crux decussata upon which Saint Andrew was crucified, Óengus honoured his pre-battle pledge and duly appointed Saint Andrew as the Patron Saint of Scotland. 

The white saltire set against a celestial blue background is said to have been adopted as the design of the flag of Scotland on the basis of this legend. However, there is evidence that Andrew was venerated in Scotland before this.
 

Personally I prefer the story of the monk in a wee boat who landed, co-incidentally at St Andrews, with a bag of bones he claimed were Andrew's bones and the local Pict King welcomed him and thus Andrew became a Scots saint.  Hmmm...  

(All persons who become Christians become 'saints.'  There is no special role as a 'saint,' all believers are 'sanctified,' that is 'set apart,' for Gods use, therefore 'saints.'  Andrew, like all other 'Saints' who are prayed to are in fact dead and as such unable, and I suspect, unwilling to answer prayers.  We pray to God through Jesus the Messiah only.  That way brings us to God.)

Saturday Delicacies

As I sit here, chomping on a 'Murdoch's Macaroni & Cheese Pie,' I contemplate the day before me.

I should be fussing with the water in the washing machine but instead I had to dismember the chicken from last night and boil the bones for stock.  It is now almost noon which shows how slow the day has been.

  

I suspect I will begin with Morecombe v Solihull Moors in the English Cup, or if they insist on the useless female commentator I will revert to Sky for Reading v Bristol City.   

After this comes the big game of the day, I have booked my ticket (£12) on the Alloa website and will enjoy the Alloa v Heart of Midlothian game in what is now called the 'Betfred Cup.'  How these names annoy!

This finishes on time for me making use of the chicken, now in the fridge, for tea and being prepared for the other 'Betfred Cup' match between St Mirren and Aberdeen.  

If my eyes still focus I may watch Atalanta v Verona or West Brom v Sheffield United.  Of course I may just be asleep by then, or if the Heart of Midlothian loose I may be round the corner sitting in the local Police cells being asked about things flung from windows in an aggressive manner.  

"Not me guv."

While quite used to being alone I have noticed how I have become more aggressive and indeed angry at things in recent months.  Whether this is 'Lock Down' or my tiring mind I cannot say but clearly both are having an effect.  The numpties on Twitter were getting to me so I avoid it now for the most part, but on Facebook similar people arrive and wind me up.  Good job we do not carry guns these days.  Imagine if Donald Trump was to shoot those who opposed him?  Count the bodies...

I looked into those I encounter and find how mixed up many people are.  Confused about life, their place in it, sexually confused, not sure if they are male or female, gay or normal, some politically motivated but appear confused re what their aim is or where they are headed.  A sensible answer to one upsets others, answer them and the first is offended.  

Talking of offended I see one football pundit has been suspended by the BBC for using the term 'Handbags' during a game.  Several people, probably girlies, objected, and the man dumped.  How silly the BBC has become.

 

 

 

Mist, Tesco and Max

The mist was hanging around as it does in bleak winter days so I decided that before I eat my 'Murdoch's Pork Pie' for lunch I had best wander out into it and give the world the benefit of my appearance.  What would I see?  I saw mist!  Lots of it.  Indeed as I strolled along, overcoat wrapped around, hands hanging loose to catch the freezing air, the mist appeared to thicken.  It changed moods all morning disappearing for a while at siesta time and now being gently blown away by the breeze. 

The warmth of the locals was also out in force, one man muttered, almost, a greeting as he, even slower than me, passed in the opposite direction, women crossed the road to avoid me, men heads down stared ahead, tough like, as they passed.  Only one woman almost greeted me while she waited with an impatient dog for me to pass.  All were well wrapped up while wishing they were indoors.

few, apart from those with a camera, would be cheered by days like this.  

 

I so enjoyed trailing the streets I went back to Tesco tonight.  I was not intending to buy, I just wished to change an LED lightbulb.  John, the landlords man, insisted I use LED bulbs as they are brighter, cheaper, longer lasting.  However, the one I bought the other day was a screwfit not bayonet fit, I forgot to look!  The girl told me "upstairs and change it, and I will fiddle the till," or something like that.  So, off I goes, no escalator, so another stair to climb slowly, behind someone almost as slow as I.  No straight swop, so two slightly different bulbs bought and then slowly down the stairs again.  Those stairs are higher than they used to be!  A quick change at the desk, an extra £1 paid and off I rush.  However, an old woman was slowly struggling along in front, how I wished she would hurry!  Funny, how people waited for me as I struggled up and down the stairs but I wished to rush past another.  What a git!

Back home I replaced the bulbs and discovered that they are indeed brighter.  I also discovered how difficult it is to fix them in with grubby, dust covered shades on them.  Well, one shade, the bedroom one accidentally ripped apart as I worked on it. Still, I have bright light, cheaper also they say, and electric is the higher of the bills that rip me off.  

I heard on an old tape how Victoria, once queen, scribbled a diary daily.  Before Albert appeared she apparently read some, wrote a letter, ate at 7:30, then 'sat on the couch' with two Ladies-in-waiting.  What a life!

I thought life here was boring, no wonder she grasped Albert when he came!

 

Now I must go to Max the Dog in California to stop someone feeding his dog whisky.

 

Maradonna & Christmas Virus's

 

Every football team these days has a group of ex-players, some in their 40's, an occasional one in his 50's, who play football against similar sides for charity and exercise.  The Heart of Midlothian team in the past went by the name 'Old Hearts,' whereas tday they are called 'Hearts Legends' even though some never player for the club.  The word 'Legend' is put about with all the authority of a Goverment cabinet minister these days, and with all the honesty that implies, however, when we talk about Diego Maradona as a Legend we mean it.

Beginning his international career with humbling Scotland as an 18 year old he went on to say "Scotland loves me, England hates me," and this was true, as the ''Hand of God' enabled all Scots, as well as Welsh and Irish, enjoy him putting one over on the imperialists.  

His height was low, making some think him wee and easy to push around, instead it gave him a low centre of gravity which he used, combined with natural and well developed, strength to barge his way past the most experienced of defenders.

His talent was not just scoring with the 'Hand of God' he revealed his talent by running through the English defence not long afterwards and leaving them well grounded.  He won World Cups, and many other trophies, especilaly in italy when the best payers in the world, and some of the dirtiest, plied their trade.   

It is not well known but while in Argentina bringing one or two Agentines to his club the then Sheffield United manager (name forgotten) wished to bring a 16 year old also.  United's Board refused as there was a lot of youth talent in Sheffield they said, why bring one from the other side of the world.  Diego Maradona thus lost out his big chance at Sheffield.

Getting mixed up with gangsters in Naples and then with drugs ruined his career and life.  He played out his career but his public image and his mind was warped by drugs and emotional turmoil, a sad end to a man of such stature in the game.  Not all 'legends' end this way, some carve out good lives, I always thought that his move to Napoli rather than Milan ended his good side.  Rather sad he dies in this manner, a much missed genuine 'legend.'  

 

I see people are getting angry that they canny get together at Christmas.  One man, famous for his Great War historical work, was grumbling about Teir 3 and all that. I thought it strange that a man who writes about war cannot cope with a lock down.  Those who lived through near 5 years of the Great war and seven of the second may wonder what the fuss is all about.  Certainly in those days people grumbled at loss of freedoms, though most understood why, but today there is a great many who feel they have the right to do what they want irrespective of the situation.  I fear these will gather at Christmas in unthinking groups endangering themselves and granny.  I expect the NHS will soon know about them.

 

 

Stuffing Face or Saving Face.

In spite of dreich weather, thick overcast clouds dampened the streets and the hearts of many this morning, in spite of this my delivery arrived from Foress via Inverness, Newcastle, Harlow and looking at the friendly driver, Morrocco at 1:40 ish today.  Two frozen sachets kept the pies cool, most now cooler in the freezer.  At least I hope it is safe to freeze them, I will find out soon!

One now awaits me, I felt it right to ensure they taste right before going on, and then I can get back to what I have not done while awaiting the van arriving.  So, that was alright, I may need to eat one or two more tonight.

Standard

The smiling immigrant at the Despatch Box has announced a cut in foreign aid.  Success for the 'Daily Mail' reader!  A miniscule amount of cash, that possibly aids this country more than any other, now cut to serve ideology and stupidity.  Will this aid the Billions squandered on Brexit?  Will it aid anyone bar the money changers on high?  With a claim that 2.6 million will be unemployed next year - 2.6 million!  yet there is no apology for Brexit which caused it, nor for the mishandling of the virus which exacerbates this.  Still, they and their money changers will be OK.  

Millions unemployed, no leadership at the top, gangster attitudes, incompetence, graft, and a pretence to care for the economy?  How did we get into this mess?