Football Day!

 

It must be Saturday.  I know this as I have been watching football again.  This is one of the ways I find out what day this is.  Once again I spent much of Wednesday thinking it was Tuesday, this is becoming a habit, I may have to start drawing marks on the wall and checking them off daily to keep up to date.

This afternoon, for the price of £12 I watched the hazy pictures of Arbroath playing the great Heart of Midlothian.  This went as expected.  A 0-0 draw, several bruises, and anither point as we head towards promotion.  Dogged defence, dangerous on attack, and determined under our 'surge' late in the second half Arbroath deserved the point.  Some of our midfield did not.  So, another game passes, another Saturday is almost over (after I have watched the 6 'O' Clock game on BBC Alba) and then I snore into the night.

 

I've had a look around and nothing else has happened.  I suppose everyone is watching football on TV?

Book!!!

 

Waterstone's

 

At last, after much struggle, I have reached the end of 'Engel's England.'  Something many of us wish to achieve!  I began reading this book early in Lock Down but just could not find the effort to read anything for a while.  Several dust covered books lie awaiting my eyes so I have begun another two of them.  At least one introduction and one first page!   

Anyway, you may remember Matthew Engel from his previous book, 'Eleven Minutes Late,' so you will know the character of the man.  That book concerned railways, this one involves his journey around every English county.  English only, which is fair enough.  This makes the book a long read, even if some chapters are not too long he does like to spend time in those he associates with.  

There is no real pattern to the journey, he took several years over it, between 2012 and 2014, hopping here and there, and it is worth a look just to see what he thinks is important in the county in which you may have connections.  Ten years out of date maybe but relevant still today.

London here, is treated as a seperate county, and this makes sense.  London has little connection to England, much less to Scotland or Wales, even though the government offices reside here.  London, the government, the Oxbridge set that run the nation, and all the powerful of the land care nothing for anything north of Euston Road, London alone counts with them as that is where their money and friends, make that contacts, are.

Engel travelled around London on his own when around 12 year of age, he lived in Northampton but holidayed with his gran in Temple Meads.  He travelled safely, wandering on and off bus and tube, visiting interesting places.  Boys that age would enjoy such an activity even now, however, I suspect the police, social services and women with short hair and dangly earrings would suffer hysteria at a 'child' exploring on his own today.  Personally I did similar, round Edinburgh, and no harm came to me.  His love of London is clear, possibly because he now lives miles away outside, and here, as in all counties he offers an interesting view of what is around him.

All counties in England are found here, some history, some novelties, some people stories, all the usual things to expect from a travel book.  He missed one bit of Essex mind, this one!   

 

Reek!

 

Bottled or Tinned?

An American gentleman, if there is such a thing, posted, on behalf of his dog who struggles with keyboards, about the Brewing of Beer.  This is a subject much loved by people with nothing else to do.  A blog worth reading I say.

Naturally I was intrigued.  The detailed information even going far back into History to the dawn of life in Sumer 5000 years ago.  Here women brewed beer as this was a mainstay in those crowded cities, it was issued to the workforce as payment along with a bowl of food, and women had nothing else to do with their time.  The inference of the Dogs long tale, which is well worth a read, being that beer was always brewed by women until men took over.  Typical feminism!  This shows how strong a hold his wife has on him!

 

 

This reminded me of my third job, I having quickly been disposed off by the first and second ones for the rather unfortunate talent of being totally useless.  For four years I developed this talent in the office taking orders over the phone from pubs around the nation and pushing bits of paper together to organise loads for the lorry drivers.  Actual 'work' I knew not.  It was not a bad time for a ignorant 16 or so year old and when I reached 18 I received an allowance of beer for myself FREE! 

 

 

 

Tennents produced a famous Lager, the kind of beer drunk by youths just to get drunk rather than real beer for taste.  This was not brewed in Edinburgh as far as I knew, that came from the Glasgow brewery but as far as I know both have long closed so I no longer know where it originates these days.

However, each day I passed through the huge noisy bottling plant where all to often bottles of 'Piper Export' were passing by.  This replaced the failing 'Husky Export' which had to be put down.  'Piper' itself was also 'improved' as sales were poor, but in thosed ays all beer was losing flavour and large breweries cared not for taste. 

During the late 60's and through the 70's both 'Tennents,' part of the huge 'Bass Charrington Brewery,' and 'Scottish Brewers,' chose to lower the quality of their beers and produced cheap, easily made simple beers.  The quality of the public houses reflected the unoriginal taste of the beer.  This was universal, in England 'Watneys' produced 'Red Barrel' beer, somewhat akin to left over washing up water, but this came in large '7 Pint' tins which found favour with partygoers who care little what they drink.  

In days of yore beer was counted in shillings, 60/- was light beer, 70/- mild and 80/- 'Heavy.'  The term 'India Pale Ale' I believe came about as 60/- beer lasted the voyage to the Raj in India better than any other.  

However, at Tennents the slop we sold included 'Toby Beer,' and English intrusion that was taken in lorries equipped with large containers filled with beer.  For some reason Miners welfare clubs found this popular.  Interestingly, the miners of Ayrshire like light beer, the 60/-, but it had to be 'Extra Dark.'  If you take a barrel of beer and add a thimble of dye it becomes 'Dark,' two thimbles it becomes 'Extra Dark.'  The miners of Fife however refuse this dark 60/-, indeed, if you gave it to them they would refuse it because "The taste is off."  The Ayrshire men felt the same in reverse.  

The Lager cans decorated with the 'Lovelies' you see at the top were very popular at the time.  By the 70's however ugly girls were being upset as the attention of men became lodged on looking at the cans and not them, so they shouted about  'early sexism,' and had them stopped.  The girls themselves continued to pose as far as I know elsewhere, too grown up to follow such nonsense, and they made money.

Eventually, just as I was enjoying my work, the girls answering the phones needed me they said, and I needed them more than I ever said, but change was coming.  The office was a place where we talked openly about many things and life was good, but Jesus intervened.  One day as I collected my free beers he arrived and said "Oi! Walk this way."  So I did, sort off, moving to London and soon working in a charitable organisation 'Helping people.'  At least that what I said.  

By this time people were sick of grotty beer and a campaign began to return to a higher standard.  Soon smaller breweries were arriving and offering proper beer again, and today they appear to be in many peoples back gardens.  Not that they can sell much during LockDown unless a supermarket takes them on.  The slop mostly died away, Tennents Lager continues, youth gurgles it down and men over 35 drink stuff with flavour.  

Is it too late for one now?

 

Bandwagon Hysteria and Actual Figures.

 

This is Jennifer Helen Jones, Baroness Jones of Moulsecoomb.  A Green Party member of the House of Lords.  As you may expect with a member of the Green party Jenny is 'a penny short of a shilling.'  This was made clear yesterday when she called for all men to face a 6 pm curfew in an attempt to make the streets safer for women.  This is because a police officer is being investigated regarding the death of a young woman and now a Hysteria Bandwagon has arisen with all the usual suspects lining up to tell of their woes.

However,I recall searching out the murder numbers a while back and discovered things were not as they appear.  Today I looked up these numbers and, eventually after much searching, discovered them.

The ONS figures for 'Homicide' are indeed interesting.  Latest figures.

 

There were 695 victims of homicide in the year ending March 2020, 47 more (7%) than the previous year; this figure includes the Grays lorry incident with 39 homicide victims – if this incident is excluded, homicide showed a 1% increase overall.

The homicide rate was 11.7 per million population, with the rate for males (17 per million population) almost three times that for females (6 per million population); this is a higher difference than previous years because of a 20% increase in the number of male victims, from 422 to 506, and a 16% decrease in the number of female victims, from 225 to 188.

Just under two-thirds (443 or 64%) of all homicide victims in the year ending March 2020 were from the White ethnic group. The number of Black victims in the last year, at 105, was the highest seen since the year ending March 2002 (107 victims).

 

There were 105 victims identified in the Black ethnic group in the last year, accounting for 15% of all victims. This was an increase of nine homicides compared with the previous year.

The homicide rate over the three-year period to year ending March 2020 was 49.5 per million population for the Black ethnic group, approximately five times higher than for the White ethnic group (9.4 per million population).

There were 142 homicide victims aged 16- to 24-years-old, an increase of 32 on the previous year and a return to the relatively high levels seen in the year ending March 2018 (147).

Almost three-quarters of all victims were male (73%) and just over a quarter were female (27%).

It appears the number of women involved in Homicide cases is decreasing, possibly the Green Party do not know how to find figures, it is not a simple task.  73% of death were male, that figure is increasing, while the female figure drops.  The news coverage of this does not appear anywhere as far as I can see.

It is clear that men suffer Homicide more than women (how many men killed by women is not stated) and Black men are suffering proportionately more than any white, male or female.  

The truth is however that such loud women will join the bandwagon, that this sells papers and that the truth is not to be found as welcome to those individuals.  It is still safe for women to walk the streets in 'England and Wales,' as the female MP's and loudmouths driving past will notice.

Interestingly, way down the page in the onine 'Daily Mirror' I fond Davina McCall tweeting:

 

 "Female abduction/murder is extremely rare. Yes we should all be vigilant when out alone.

"But this level of fear-mongering isn’t healthy. And men’s mental health is an issue as well. Calling all men out as dangerous is bad for our sons, brothers, partners."

Naturally the sisterhood have denounced her with bitchy Twitter replies.

She is of course correct, as the figures prove, 188 women out of around 30 million females is rare indeed, especially when more men die, and young Black men in particular.  However, correct figures do not defeat emotion, and it is emotion plus publicity seekers ensuring they are seen as leading the way that matters.

 

 

I found Davina's experience while I looked for something more 'light' to fill the page, there was nothing!  All was "Woe and thrice woe!" and I went back to my daffodils for some succour.  It is not easy to get succour out of a daffodil, so I just sit here looking at them and feeling relaxation wash over me.

 

M and H and a lot of Bull...

Lucky us!  A missing woman has been found dead, murdered allegedly, with the investigation centering on a police officer.  How lucky for us as this distracts the small minded press from the Meghan and Harry soap opera that has unfortunately filled the spaces everywhere.

As always we must ask when such stories fill the papers what is hiding behind them?  What is being pushed through by Boris and his gangsters while the plebs gape at these millionaires telling us of their suffering?

The nation is divided, half support poor, hard done by, racially insulted Meghan (a woman), while half support the poor, hard done by queen (a woman), who suffers through all this while half, like me would prefer them all to go away.

Maths @tabloid press.

How easy to gain sympathy by slipping in the accusation, with 'no names,' about the child being black! What sales arise, what support from half of the United States Black population, who it must be said, have absolutely no idea what the royals are all about.  A throw away line that generates mass publicity.  I wonder who thought that one up?  Possibly the same person who decided her 'Mental Health' was suffering?

The 'Daily Mail' reader has of course stood up for 'Our poor, hard working, long suffering queen,' who, while counting the millions she has banked away in foreign banks, suffers daily the indignities of her role, or at least of the behaviour of her family.  

So, we have two millionaires, one living off the royals while claiming he has no money, claiming they have cut him off (including the child?), one a bint on the make marrying into royalty, like his mum, while crying loudly (overacting?) about how hard life is being a well paid royal with responsibilities she did not wish to bother about, and an interviewer, who failed in the UK, but has made millions by being black and female in the US.  I feel great empathy for these poor struggling people.  

Mind you I am not so sure those queueing up at the Food Banks that now proliferate throughout the queens Kingdom feel the same way.  

At least the press have tired of them and have a murdered woman to make the most off.  Twitter is awash with women telling of their struggles shaking off unwanted men (no tales of them chasing men who don't want them for some reason) and inspiring fear in all women by telling them how they will all be killed by a stranger/friend/policeman/sadist as they walk down the street.  They tend to forget Rose West and Myra Hyndley for some reason.   

Ah the media, this wide world, nearly nine billion souls and the press concentrate on soap operas and half truths that cause fear just to sell papers.  It appears journalism is dead, just as most of these papers are dead.  Maybe one day they will note a reason for the death of the press?

 

At £1 a go I decided rthe place required brightening up!  Brilliant idea!  Immediately the sun went in,  clouds covered the land, rain fell, pushed along at high speed by strong winds keeping sensible people indoors.  I might have to place a lamp next to the Daffs just to pretend it is Spring!

 

Spam Meet

 

 

Last night was our SPAM meeting.  'SPAM' being the St Paul's mens meeting.  A chance to escape the women and talk freely.  Being Locked Down we had to meet on Zoom, this is not the best way to meet but it had to do.  Eight noble men met happily together, until it was discovered two wives were in attendance just out of the picture, plus one who kept bursting in accidentally!  These women cannot be trusted can they?  Or is it the men they canny trust, I wonder?

The discussion ranged wild and free, especially as the whisky took hold.  I myself indicated I was only drinking water.  "What proof is that?" came a voice, "37:5," came the answer...  It is good to see faces you have not seen for a year, not the easiest way to do it, but all that we have and we just got on with it.

The meeting broke up at 9:30 when the wives arrived to take everybody home.

 

However, after this I cogitated on 'Spam.'   I mean, as kids we ate Spam Fritters often, and it appeared to me at the time to be food.  I tried some a wee while ago and could not in any way find a connection between 'spam' and foodstuff.  It tasted, er, unusual.  Maybe it was the make, maybe it was me, but how on earth did we survive this?  And the stuff still sells as a quick look at any shop shelf will show.  Created in 1837 when an American company had too much Pork Shoulder to cry on.  He mixed this with Ham and cooked it in the can, I did not seek to know how, and made millions!  Having begun in time for the war he sent billions of cans to feed the US army, billions to the UK to feed everyone there, and billions of cane elsewhere, even the Soviet Union got them.  There is no doubt that he made money but saved many lives, and a few taste buds then.  

 

 

Of course the real reason people turned to Spam during the war was the vast amount of Corned Beef, 'Bully Beef' that was forced down the throat.  Spam arriving in 1941 tasted of something, constant corned beef does not.  There again I suspect constant Spam will soon become a bore but with little meat of any sort available during war, not counting the 'Black Market,' then Spam was a treat.  

I found this reference: "Paul Theroux, in his book 'The Happy Isles of Oceania,' seems to claim that Spam was popular in countries that used to have cannibalism because it tasted like human flesh."  Does any one have any idea if this is so?  If you do, how do you know, and please keep your distance?

 

Nothing Monday

 

Ancient Rome in 20 minutes

 

 

Too much football to watch to waste time on here, so instead have a History lesson.  One which you will probably know already...

I found this on YouTube and many more besides...

 

 

Media Flapjacks!

A quick glance through the front pages of the papers, as seen on the BBC website, reveals the sad state of journalism in this nation.  Both the BBC site and the BBC Scotland site offer the front page of the press, the front page is occasionally different in Scotland.  These offer large bold headlines with little story to accompany the headline. The story offered is of course not the main story of the day, it is the main story the owner wishes you to read, his Oxbridge select editor may well disagree with almost everything he publishes but will print it anyway as the money is good.  Facts, integrity and, gulp, journalism will be difficult to find.  What a sad state of affairs.

It has of course always been this way.  Know what your audience wants and give it to them, even if it is junk!  In recent days we have seen such media scream for Nicola Sturgeon to resign, the failure of the Scots committee to nail her to the wall leaves the press the next day avoiding the failure and looking elsewhere for distracting stories.  How disappointing for them.  While demanding she goes none demand any of the Conservative cabinet go, no matter how many lies they offer.  Today Pritti Patel's bullying is revealed to have cost the government £340,000 in compensation, plus the costs, yet she is still in place, how can this be? Until the PM's men indicate she must go the right wing press, which is all we have left, will keep quiet about her misdemeanours.  

The judge in another case has declared Hancock failed in his duty to publish details of PPE and other contracts within the specified time.  Those bringing the case were awarded £85,000 towards costs.  Hancock has lost, will he resign?  No, those days are now behind us.

The BBC is now controlled totally by the government, no condemnation, no journalism allowed if it exposes Boris and his men.  The others, SKY and ITV are also submissive to the controlling elite, we must ask why?  

It is now a requirement of those who wish to know more, to find journalism, to find facts, that an internet search is a daily slog in the hope of finding information regarding the days dealings.  This is a risky business as the web is flooded with false information, biased newsrooms and foreign interference.  It is however the only way to go.

However, we must ask why we have such a poor, crooked government elected?  How did they get there?  Clearly the Brexit lie helped, the Brexiteers closed their eyes to the cost, many still do, and emotion won the voctory.  But a vast number opposed this and the opposition party did not make use of their grumblings, why so?  

So we have corrupt government, feeble, indeed, missing opposition, a lying press living off this bunch of gangsters, and now a pandemic on top.

Something is going on, and this is not clear to any of us at the moment.

 

 

Are 'Flapjacks' meant to look like this....?

I feel I may have misjudged the recipe amounts.  First I put in too little, then too much, then altered it and within minutes I could smell smoke...

I had made er, shortbread, shortly before this so the oven was quite hot.  This, er, flapjack, does have a sort of taste, mostly Stork Margarine, and with the burnt edge removed it is quite edible.  

Flavour of course is not an option...

 

Burning...

After several days of sloth I decided to bake today.  I have been planning this for a while now and finally got around to it.  In days past I often made my own oatcakes, flapjacks and shortbread.  I gave this up after finding the flapjacks delicious and putting on half a stone in a relatively short time.

Today I had a go at the oatcakes and as long as I can cope with a burnt topping, crumbling mess and putting on weight I think I did OK, though why it does not stick together I know not.  

The picture above comes from a different recipe, one I will try next as it looks simpler than mine.  

The mess left behind is completely out of proportion to the feeble burnt offering produced.  Far too many items require washing up, far to much of the bunker is covered in a variety of er, stuff, and I need to eat all produced to give strength to clean up after cooking.  How come people do this for a living?

 

 

The Chancer of the Exchequer produced yet another budget making the poorest pay for the richest. He did not mention those who live abroad as tax exiles, failing also to mention if his wife does this, nor did he pay anything to the NHS as promised.  Indeed it appears he is cutting their cash, to benefit US private health companies I suspect.  The usual blether from the right wing press, there appears to be no other today, supporting this great man, much to Boris's indignation I would suggest.  However, it makes little differnce to the poor like me, though you rich people out there might find your tax cut, if you bring in lots of 0000's in your wages.

 

 

The Tory press is quite quiet today having failed to cause a war within the Scottish National Party and failing to create a situation with which to force Nicola to resign.  The clamour for her resignation was loud in all right wing English owned media and threats of 'confidence' votes were heard, today nothing!  

The media calling for resignation are the same media that do not call for Boris or Sunak or Hancock to resign over their lies, corruption and deceit, I wonder why?  Now I actually am not a fan of Nicola, I prefer Alec, and much in the way the SNP is run worries me.  However, when she gets the Indy vote through, when Scotland is independent the Scots government will run things in their own way, parties will change, personnel will change and hopefully we can return to arguing with one another properly without English interference.

Squabbling Allies and Women

 

Just over a year ago I posted a short review of 'Lords of the Desert,' a tale of infighting between the US and UK as to who gets the oil, position and power in the Middle East.  You may not have realised it but the US came out on top!  We got Oman!  The recent death of the leader there means we may not have that in our Empire remnant for much longer either.  James Barr's study of that relationship is made even more understandable when browsing this book, 'A Line in the Sand.'  This covers the arguments between two similar allies, the UK and France!  

The line in the sand is the scribbled line drawn up between a government agent Mark Sykes, and the French agent Francois Georges-Picot, in 1916.  Basically this split the land between the two nations rather in the manner of the Victorian Empire builders.  However, this was a new century and such methods now longer applied, especially with two rather dubious representatives involved and two wary allies behind them. 

The book begins in the Great War with the UK wishing to invade Syria but were opposed in this by France, they wished to claim Syria as their own having had influence there in past time, they said.  In fact they had been kicked out some 600 years previously.  From the beginning of the Great War until long after the second both sides bickered and fought for control of the Syria, Iraq and Palestine areas.  It is not a nice situation.

While the author indicate the French, especially under General de Gaul, who thought he was France, were arrogant and indeed violently oppressive, he does not fail to mention the secretive workings and many intrigues made by the London command throughout the period.  

For almost 40 years squabbles, leading to many deaths, continued while both sides sought control over the Arabs, while at the same time offering these same Arabs 'freedom' and 'sovereignty.'  The UK it must be said, offered more freedom than the French offered, resistance to French rule was often callously put down.  

Enter into this Zionists.

By the late 30's many Zionists were headed for Jerusalem citing the Balfour Declaration.  The fact that this was a sham to gain support against the French did not matter and by 1940, with the war at its height many were escaping Europe to live in Palestine.  After the Holocaust it is no surprise many thousands more wished to flee.

This gave rise to Israeli terrorists, a series of groups it must be said, more callous than any other, indeed even sinking a ship with their own people aboard.  They do not come out of this well.  Fair to say nobody does.  Mass slaughter all around appeared to be the way forward, closed minds, open arms deals, and in the end both France and then the UK are removed from the scene to let them fight it out themselves.  British soldiers would not be upset to leave such a difficult dangerous and unsettled region.

The book is jampacked with detail.  Facts abound, as in the other James Barr books, and for a clearer understanding of the mess that is the middle East these two books, and his book on Lawrence of Arabia, 'Setting the Desert on Fire,' are all well worth reading. 

 

You may have noticed by now that a new month has arrived.  We notice this as until recently social media has been stuffed full off 'woofter month,' however, as of today it is 'International Women's Month.'  I thought it already was, every month.  Like myself, you will be aware that there is no, or little heard off, International Man's Month.'  Men do not count, except when paying for the women, and men over 50 count for less than that these days.  So, after a month of gays pretending they are normal and refusing to accept any other view we now have women telling us how hard their life has been.  This usually from women who have never had a problem in their lives other than deciding their hair colour!  So called 'equality,' the lie about earning less, and their hardships in having babies and working at the same time.  How women suffer! 

Of course such women have really no problems, certainly none that cause pain or suffering.  Not that long ago women worked, in factories, mills, shops, offices, and as domestics.  Muttering women today would never sink so low as to actually work.  No, for them it is a desk, a coffee pot, a laptop and a page or two of their struggles.  I feel for them.

Meanwhile, somewhere on the Turkish or Jordanian border, snuggly cramped into an overcrowded tent or UN shack, a women and her children await Syria's war to end so they can go home.  Young men, probably her hsband also, have disappeared into Europe promising to call for them, aye, right!  This woman may have worked also, possibly professionally.  In Yemen similar women, not working, are standing over the grave of their baby child, killed by a UK made missile perhaps, or maybe a stray bullet.  How she wishes she was struggling into work on a crowded commuter train and wasting her life being overpaid for doing nothing very important.  No chance of that however.

Do women need a special month?  Do men?  Not that men will get one, men just get complaints, then have to do the work the women leave for them.

Am I fed up with the March Twitter feed today?

er, I came across this...

Nothing to Say

 

Spring is in the Air

 

Yes indeed!  It's that time of year again!  The time of year when Dafooldils fill the page as they are the only bright things within miles!  The ones opposite me have been pushing through since December, today these ones at the far side of the park are almost completely out and brightening the world around them.

Mind you as the world around is dominated by the rather boring Town Council offices it does not take much to brighten things up.  I had to get out, with Spring jacket on no less, and walk across the park to enjoy the day.  What always comes to mind on such days is a remembrance of one Spring day in Kensington Gardens years ago.  A great many people were out, many walking dogs, rich and poor, old and young, and the first real day of Spring caused even Londoners to smile at one another.  For thousands of years the Spring awakens us to life once again, we know snow wind and rain, mist and fog will come again before long but we also realise that the warmth is with us now and good days lie ahead, even if locked indoors.

 

However, I could not wait here, I had to approach the butcher for minted lamb chops and huge chicken bits.  These were available so I added a huge pack of bacon just in case Brexit stops it coming over from er, somewhere in England it turns out.  Anyway, once home I chopped all up, packed the freezer and realised there is no more room!  This means I canny order that nice man's pies this week!  Tsk!  It also indicates I have nothing for lunch, some fool forgot to buy what he needed again!

 

Last night we had a Zoom operation.  A church gathering comprising people with the technical ability of those over 50 years of age.  Only one entered in without trouble, she is in her early 20's.  It was noticeable that everyone had a clean house, at least in the bits showing, although until she disappeared one woman only had feet to show.  Knowing which way to point a laptop is difficult isn't it?

It was also noticeable just how many men got on reasonably quickly by ensuring the wife logged on for him.  Zoom, while not perfect, is at least a way to meet those who we have not seen for a while.  It does make proper discussion difficult, in my case partly because the neighbours were in downstairs and I was trying not to talk loudly.  They think I am mad as it is just because I talk back to the TV, football, politicians and most other things I log onto, tsk!  Only hearing one side of the debate mwy fox them somewhat.  If they want madness I can show them that also if required.  Tee Hee!

 

I for one canny wait for the charity shops to reopen.  I expect it will be a few weeks before they sort out the vast quantity of goods that will be dumped on their doorstep when they do open.  I, however, will be awaiting the chance to check out the many jackets dumped by those who have found them shrink hanging in the cupboard while on lockdown.  That said I have a bag that is already overflowing with rotten stuff goods I wish to donate. Some charity shops, like Oxfam, have been working online like everybody else. 

Fish and Dust

 

 

I took this down near Bournemouth some time ago, I suspect that after Brexit it is now our entire fishing fleet on the south coast of England!  I suspect he hunts for 'Pilchards,' a type of fish that was so common during the hungry war years that nobody wished to see any more.  So, to sell it afterwards they had to change the name to 'Sardines!'  Funnily enough the 'Sardines' I remember from my childhood were much smaller, more like 'Anchovies,' but maybe Scots fishermen found the fish they were catching were not as well fed as those in the rich south?

  

The day was slow, I was dog-tired today for no good reason, I will blame the 'Jab' because I see no other cause.  I did wake up enough in the afternoon to tidy my desk, it has clearly been a long time since I did that, polished it, and then sorted the books on the other 'sideboard.'  Dust everywhere, mostly on me, but now all is tidy, in order and the smell of polish fills the room.

That's enough work for today...

 

Healthy Eating with Alec

 

I came across this on Facebook this morning and identified with it immediately.  I suspect none of my readers will share my reaction, all of you being so young that is.  However, I understood all of this.  What memories returned, childhood, games played, fears, the wireless and malnutrition.  All the good things we remember from the 'good old days' when everything was better!

Pasta we never had, though we might have occasionally had spaghetti, not something parents enjoyed dealing with when kids are around, and curry was something dad talked of connected to his two years service in Poona in the days of long ago.  Pizza was of course unknown.

'Smiths Crisps,' sometimes a whole big box full of them, came supplied with wee blue bags of salt, to sprinkle among the contents, several wee blue bags in the big box.   

Indeed, rice pudding and hardly ever real white rice.  Not that this would feed us mind.  Potato soup, bread to dunk, and spam fritters or fish and home cooked chips were mainstays.

'Camp Coffee,' I always liked that.  It was the only coffee we had, very pricey, and unusual but kept for company when they arrived.  There used to be an army officer with bright tartan braid on the front being served by an Indian servant.  This was changed and the servant became an Indian Officer about 30 years ago!  Never see it now.

'Heinz Beans,' though I remember 'Crosse & Blackwell' also existed.  Yoghurt however did not until I was well into secondry school, so about 1965 I would say.  I had one, rotten it was, and never had another for 25 years.

I do not know who wrote that but I understand it well.  They missed out gray ex-army blankets stamped WD, on the bed with your overcoat on top to help the warmth.  Jack Frost on the windows and pound, shilling and pence in your pocket.  Too many and you leant to one side.

 

Daily Record

   

The SNP struggle continues.  Having established his right to use information at his hearing Alec Salmond has now learned the Crown Office (friends with whom?) wishes some evidence to be withheld.  This is intriguing as this has already been published somewhere.  The games people play.  Who is behind this move, who benefits, who wins?  Find out in next weeks (or days) exciting chapter...

Drizzly Spring Musings

 

The hazy bright morning sun promised Spring warmth, as I write the drizzle is busy trying to rear Daffoldills which cower under the bare branches of the trees.  Tsk!  At least the gas is not on, the heaters are off and I no longer need to wear my coat indoors. 

As Spring deepens, it is claimed fewer people will be rushed into hospital with Covid, therefore Westminster will rush children back to school, pubs opened, shops, barbers and sundry businesses urged to return and by the end off July we shall see the hospitals full once again!  Of course it may be true that the vaccinations are having an effect, but there again it may just be those 'unnamed' people pushing in the press and on social media for a return that are behind this 'confidence.'

Nothing however, will take the smug grin of Hancocks face, as long as he is making money he cares not about the rest.  That is a sure sign of this bad government.

I believe we have an opposition but I have no idea where it is.

 

'Worcester II' by Charles William Wyllie (1853-1923).  'Worcester II' was a redundant R oyal Naval shipthat moved into the Thames in 1862 and took its place as a RN training ship.  She remained there until 1945 when replaced and moved by the navy to moorings elsewhere.  Unfortunately she was not used and slowly rotted away, capsizing and being slowly eaten by the tides.  Such a shame for a ship, but there again it saves cash in dismantling her.  

I have a penchant (whatever that is) for pictures of the sea.  Charles William Wyllie and his more famous brother, William Lionel Wyllie, both painted such works. Charles sadly moved into more mythalogical fantasies, usually featuring bare breasted women, I know not why.

It may well be more such pictures fill the empty spaces of this blog until I get out and about a bit more. Not that we can go far anyway these days...

 

Mirror

 

News is hard to come by these days.  The papers will fill space with everything and anything.  Here we see an item taken from the web, that appears to be where the press get their news these days, the item is all about a woman who saves money by searching the shops for reduced items.

Gosh!  Who would have thought that by seeking out the 'yellow stickers' you could save money?  

What surprised me is that she saves (she said) £50 a week on her total shop!  £50?  Maybe you were buying things you did not require, using expensive brands rather than 'shops own' and squandering money in a flagrant manner?  Just saying like.

The disabled, the unemployed (some 850,000 it appears), the poorest using food banks, and pensioners have been doing this for years.  But hey, anything to fill space in the media.

 

Jabbed

The story of my life summed up there.  A lack of brains.

Today however was a success.  I hobbled up the road to the local hospital, joined the queue well marshalled by efficient stewards, took my identity slip of paper, and soon was handing it over to be given the 'Jab' that all are seeking.  I think this is the one which links me to Microsoft or to Bill gates wallet or something, so I am now hoping for a generous response from Bill.  It was indeed well organised and friendly while I was there, though one marshall mentioned a struggle earlier when a man tried to jump the queue!  Working with the public is so gratifying!

Back home, having shopped on the way, I found I had done all required by just after ten in the morning.  I did not know what to do after that, it was something unusual.  

It is interesting the list of things that 'may' occur after the 'Jab' sounded much like the normal daily exoerience in this house.  How will I tell if I am suffering a reaction if I do not notice any difference?  It is all to confusing to me, people complain of 'Long Covid,' and I tell them I have had that since 1987 and they just look blankly at me.  I wonder why?  I may never know if I suffer a reaction.

Football was dire, dinner was excellent, and there is nothing left to do but write a dozen emails.  However, that is beyond my tired mind so I will find some excuse to avoid this.