Scots

A Scotsman wanted to impress his girlfriend so he took her for a ride in a taxi. 

The trouble was, she was so beautiful he could hardly keep his eyes on the meter.

An Englishman, and Irishman and a Scotsman went into a bar. 

The Englishman stood a round of drinks, the Irishman stood a round of drinks and the Scotsman stood around.

How do you know if a Scotsman is left-handed?
He keeps all his money in his right-hand pocket.

Did you hear about the Scottish kamikaze pilot?
He crashed his plane in his brother's scrapyard.

Young Jock MacTavish got down on his knees to propose to her when a 10p piece dropped out of his pocket and rolled under the sofa. In the 20 minutes it took him to find it she had lost interest. Two robbers broke onto a lodging house in Glasgow. They were discovered and a tremendous fight broke out. Bleeding and covered in bruises they finally managed to escape through a window. Well, we didn't do too badly said one, 'we came out with twenty pounds.' 'Thats true,' said the other, 'but we went in with sixty pounds.'

It was a bitterly cold day on the golf course and the caddy was expecting a large tip from his rich Scottish client. As they neared the clubhouse, the caddy heard the words he was longing to hear, 'This is for a hot glass of whisky.' He held out his hand and a sugar cube was placed in it.

What do you call 2 scotsmen hanging from a washing line?
A pair of tights.

McDougal bought two tickets for the lottery. He won five million pounds.
"How do you feel about your big win?" asked a newspaper reporter.
"Disappointed," said McDougal, "My other ticket didn't win anything."

What's the difference between a Scotsman and a canoe?
A canoe sometimes tips.

An Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman went out for a night on the town.

The Englishman spent £30, the Irishman spent £20 and the Scotsman spent a very enjoyable evening.

The MacTavish brothers decided that one of their number would go to America and make his fortune, coming back to share with the rest of them. The youngest, Ian, was chosen for this task. Off he went, and he worked hard in America, and earned himself a fortune over a few years, and wired his brothers that he'd be returning with it. When he came back to Scotland he got off the boat, and looked around for his brothers, but could not see anyone who looked familiar. Finally, a group of bearded strangers approached. "Ho, Ian, are ye not knowing yer own brothers?" asked the first one. Then Ian realized his brothers had grown beards.
"Fer heaven's sake, laddies, what would ye be growin' them beards for, now?" he asked.
"We had to, lad, ye took the razor wi' ye!"

A Scottish gift: "It's nae use to me, ye're welcome to it."

An Australian entered a bar and stood beside a Scotsman.
"Where are you from, pal?" asked the Scotsman, after they'd chatted for a while.
"I'm from the finest country in the whole wide world," said the Australian.
"Are you?" said the other. "You have a damn funny accent for a Scotsman."

My wife was the last of 5 Scottish sisters to marry, the confetti was filthy.

Wee Hughie was in the garden filling in a hole when his English neighbour peered over the fence. Interested in what the mad man was up to, he politely asked, 'What are you doing there, Hughie?'
'My goldfish died,' replied Wee Hughie tearfully without looking up, 'and I've just buried him.'
The English neighbour was very concerned. 'That's an awfully big hole for a goldfish, isn't it?'
Wee Hughie patted down the last heap of dirt then replied, 'That's because he's inside your cat.'

Dreich

Dreich indeed today. Gray clouds overhead, occasionally releasing flurries of snow that swirl around, neither big enough to lie deep and crisp and even, nor small enough to avoid irritating those wandering through them. When I sat inside, suffering soup in which I had foolishly forgotten to add the imitation 'Oxo' cubes, I watched the sun break through and the sky, briefly, turn blue. When I left an hour later the scene above greeted me. Standing stark and tall, bare of leaves, and shivering in the cold, this tree dominated the scene as I passed by.How long until the buds start to sprout? How long till the birds can gather under her leaves to avoid the heat? How long until this dreich, cold weather runs away back where it belongs at the Arctic circle? I am left wondering how those who suffer six months of darkness survive?

Sunday Post

This is my 'Sunday Post.'

Blonde Jokes

Q: What did the blonde say when she found out she was pregnant?
A: "Are you sure it's mine?"

Q: What does a blonde say after she graduates from college?
A: "Hi, welcome to McDonalds."

Q: What do you call a blonde skeleton in the closet?
A: Last year's hide and seek champ.

Q: What do you call a fly buzzing inside a blonde's head?
A: A space invader.

Q: What do you call a blonde with half a brain?
A: Gifted!

Q: How do blonde braincells die?
A: Alone.

Q: Why did the blonde resolve to have only three children?
A: Because she read that one child out of every four born was Chinese.

Q: What do you call it when a blonde dies their hair brunette?
A: Artificial intelligence.

Q: Why should blondes not be given coffee breaks?
A: It takes too long to retrain them.

Q How can you tell if a blonde's been using the computer?
A: There's Tipex on the screen.

Q: How can you tell if another blonde's been using the same computer?
A: There's writing on the Tipex.

Q. Did you hear about the blonde man who had 8 vasectomies?
A. He had to -- his wife kept getting pregnant!

Wednesday Snow

Once again we are covered in the white stuff. Once again the nation grinds to a halt. Once again the media is full of the usual questions, "Why can we not cope," and "Who is at fault?" "Terror and despair, shops closed, food stocks low!" and the 'Daily Mail' with it's "I blame the government/council/gritters/immigrants!" from its  headlines and comments from readers. By next week we will have forgotten all about it. The snow will have gone, the stomachs will once again be groaning and other things will cause our ire to rise. Still, it fills up the post count doesn't it?

I was listening to yesterdays 'The Pitch' on Radio Scotland's website this afternoon. I must say I was very surprised to hear such a programme from Radio Scotland. Instead of the usual small minded Rangers/Celtic nonsense they usually give us, and instead of the tabloid like approach they take to the game I was confronted by three men talking sensibly about the game. This was a sensible surprise! Stephan Craigan, who plays for Motherwell at the moment, led the discussion well, and with him were an ex-pro Derek Ferguson, a man who once had the immense privilege of wearing the Heart of Midlothian shirt. Also involved was the Kilmarnock Australian player Daniele Invincible, a name he has not lived up to!

I thoroughly enjoyed the discussion, probably because they were attempting to discuss seriously the points put to them instead of the Jim Traynor type programme where mentally defective Glaswegians phone in full of paranoia about their sectarian sides hard luck stories. To hear the professionals views on the situations were at times enlightening and always interesting. How come I did not know of this programme before? Craigan led the programme well, better than how he plays football, and the other two were well able to comment on the game in Scotland. We need more programmes like this, and we need to hear more from men such as these!

Cold Weather

I do complain about this cold weather, and rightly so! I feel that my rightful place is amongst the sunshine that is scattered so freely towards the centre of the planet but appears so fleetingly in my life. Tonight, the cheery weather folk tell us, snow will make its way from Scotland and the north of England and cover us in deep layers of the white stuff! The 'Daily Mail,' in the usual calm manner, has a headline 'Met Office Forecasts 18 Inches of Snow!' I doubt we will receive 18 inches, two or three would be bad enough, and I suspect the temperature will fall to below zero.
However this is nothing really. In a few days this will end, with flurries on and off until Spring actually arrives. However today Beijing, the Chinese capital, recorded a temperature of minus 60 at one point! In many places it was so cold the heating would not work! I also came across Christians in prison in North Korea, a place on a similar latitude to Beijing, who are imprisoned for their faith, in jails without heating I would imagine. Thousands locked away, many suffering like their fellow citizens from malnutrition, in temperatures lower than many of us could withstand! So while it may be depressing, and cold weather is, and while it may be dark and dismal, at least we are a lot better off than many.  

A Postcard a Day

I stole this picture!  It comes from one of those intriguing sites that at first look somewhat dull but actually contain some excellent items. This site gives us a postcard each day and some, like the one shown are very interesting indeed. This picture shows the original post box, an idea of Anthony Trollope the author and Post Office employee. Situated at Barnes Cross, Holwell, near Sherbourne in Dorset the box was first used in the 1850's and even old Mike cannot remember that far back, I think. The uniform shown dates from that time and is reminiscent of some of the gear worn during the 1970's, although not by me! I recommend this site as there are some excellent postcard shown there. The photography is often marvellous and the subjects, ancient and modern, often intrigue. Some time ago I passed through London Bridge Station on a Saturday and there were numerous stalls selling postcards.I was surprised at just how many, and indeed how much! There are numerous other postcards sites also, but I think this is one worth a look!   A Postcard a Day.  

First Monday of the New Year

Removing the ex-army greatcoat, the two ski suits and the thermal underwear I began on my exercises. Arms stretch out ahead and back, again, again, five times, ten, stop. Now swing arms to the side and stretch, again, once, twice, five, ten, twenty, stop. Knees bend together, one, two, three, four, five, oh that's enough of that! Breathe deeply in, out, in, out, ten deep breathes then relax. OK, now to get out of bed.

Dear oh dear, freezing cold once again and Jack Frost has been all over my window. The field outside is white with frost and the people rushing by are wrapped up in everything they possess. The heating is on and I canny feel it at all! In Siberia they do not let the kids of school until it is -37 degrees, and during the war Siberian troops brought over to defend Moscow fought in temperatures of minus 8. They thought this was warm! I however am not one for cold weather, nor do I intend to fight Nazis in this condition to be honest. I wish to be transported somewhere warm, Greece or Turkey or the Isle of Wight. Somewhere that Jack Frost and his icy fingers don't get to go near me.Several times to day I have had to put the heating on. Several times today, sitting here in my sleeping bag, wearing my woollen gloves with the fingers cut out, I have thought of those dwelling in Thailand and wondered how they cope with our cold weather? With a smug grin on their fat faces I bet! I can see them now, chomping yet more chicken and laughing their heads off! What's that? Me wish a monsoon on them? Never! In Nigeria they have a warm day with 38 degrees of heat, usually. In Portugal folk go swimming on Christmas Day. In this area the sun shines and the sky is blue but the seagulls soaring past my window are not looking for food scraps, they are nicking folks scarf's and wrapping them around their scrawny necks, and I don't blame them! Global warming, wherefore art thou pal?

Some of you have probably already noticed this, I as always am slow on the 'catch up' bit, but 'Blogger' has changed the 'Post Editor.'  There is a new one available and it is marginally better than the old one. Well I suppose that depends on you but if it's the new one I use it because the old one will disappear one day and leave me high and dry! Technology is always my slow point (one off) and after amassing lots of cassette tapes full of knowledge my tape machine has burst and they don't sell them any more. Everything is now on CD's except that digital is removing the need for CD's. I would mention large black circular things with  a hole in the middle and ask "Is this a record?" but you young things would not understand would you?

To find the new editor

First work your way to the 'Settings' tab.

At the bottom of the page you will see a field called 'Select Post Editor.,'

Select 'New Editor' save your settings.

Whether it is worth it or not only you can decide.

 

Yemen

Terrorism Bush claimed was based in Iraq, although we all knew different. Bin-Laden was known to be in the Pakistan hills hiding among the Taliban. So the military aim was to defeat both of them high up in the Afghanistan/Pakistan hills. Now we discover that the centre may have shifted to Somalia, where Islamic extremists abound, or Yemen where the British, US and now French embassies have closed because of perceived danger. The BBC reports that other nations, considered to be 'western' are also scaling down their operations. The danger from such extremists is indeed great. They appear to have no regard for human life, men women and children die by bomb, bullet and sometimes knife. This is less because of their religious belief and more because of culture and hardness of heart. We are right to be aware of the danger in this country as well as abroad.

Having said that such activities are not new. Violent people, for political reasons, religion, football or any other purpose have resorted to violence at home and abroad. It is part of the human condition, and we must agree, but not always willingly, such violence lies near at hand to ourselves also! Life is never peaceful, although the west, because of the 'Cold War' has experienced seventy years of peace and we have come to believe this is our right. However as a man once said, "Life is what happens to you when you are making other plans," of course he got shot!

The Yemen is a place we know little about. Mud houses, Arabs aplenty, terrorists. What else do we know of them? Very little I suspect. However one man 'Ozgur Can Leonard' has been travelling through the land and posted this excellent series of photographs from Yemen. There may not be a picture of a gunman however there are some remarkable houses  and I suspect remarkable people living in them!

Saturday Evening

ITV football coverage just does not work! Tonight we faced Reading v Liverpool in the English Cup. There were other possible games to choose to televise, Notts Forest v Birmingham being the obvious, but Liverpool are one of ITV's favourites. The must produce a large rating for them, and ratings come before football. How then I ask, if ratings are so important, how is it we are offered such a poor coverage?We endure, far too often in my book, Clive Tyldsley commentating. His love of England and Manchester United is well known, he also loves to fill the screen with his voice and I can see no reason or benefit from this. The constant flow of meaningless words is needless as we are actually watching the game!  Less is more from the commentators is the order of the day, not banal ramblings about a players career since he was a 14 year old at Manchester United or Chelsea. Who cares? On the odd occasion a statistic is required, but not during the game, concentrate on what is happening and SHUT UP! After Church scored he went on blabbing about tomorrows headlines and Liverpool facing defeat with almost SEVENTY minutes still to play! Tabloid hacks who care nothing about the game in front of them and only look for a cheap headline ought not to be on TV. Football is too important for this.

Not that we can concentrate on the game of course. With Clive's mouthing we also have banality from the co-commentator, always an ex-player and rarely someone with personality on ITV. As individuals these ex-pro's are quite acceptable, as for giiving an understanding of the game in front of us my grannie could do better, and she died in 1945! A manager, employed or otherwise can give us a clear understanding of the game,and explain why certain players take up certain positions, Chrsitian Nade excepted of course, and David Pleat and Graham Taylor I find helpful here. Clearly Jim Beglin is cheaper! The other slight problem I have is all television directors love of nothing important! Are they all women? An incident occurs so they ignore what is happening on the field and give us a long lingering close up of the back of someone's head, why? Tonight we saw the back view of a linesman, then Gerrard, then Kuyt, for why? I watched a game  few weeks back, that's last year to you, and not once did I concentrate on the back of the fellah's head after the ball had gone. I wanted to watch the game, so why watch something that has NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS? As it turned out the game was not too bad, although Liverpool were! What a shame Reading are not up to scratch these days as it would have produced some fun had they managed a winning goal! Still they did not deserve to lose so a draw and replay is OK.

Did anyone listen to the half time debate? I didn't. I wandered off into other channels until the game restarted as I could not endure the banal half wit comments that would arise. Not that there is any time for sensible comment as they have so many adverts, often for their own programmes, to shove before us. Please, please, take football in England, away from ITV and give it, by law, to the BBC. They have many faults shared with ITV but have an overwhelmingly better product. Watching football on the Beeb also stops them offering us yet another soap opera junk programme.

Free Rice.com

Something good for once! Help the really hungry by spending time developing your vocabulary on the Free Rice link to the right. This is a wonderful way to test your knowledge of words, (using an American dictionary I suspect,) and improve your already extensive vocabulary. Simply decide which of the choice of four words given is the meaning of the word offered and if correct rice is donated to those who require it. There are many level and I assure you mine is not that high! There are other choices also where you can test your knowledge of the world and other interesting topics. I have discovered that my huge knowledge of the world map is not quite what I had hoped! Well do you know your 'Benin' from your 'Togo?  The capital cities are not as easy as I thought either. There are other options and they are all well worth a go I say, so do it now! The link to the right will give you hours of fun (well minutes then!) and provide for those who do not require to buy books on dieting!

The First Day of the New Year.

New Year's Day Television is rotten! Just like the offerings over the entire Christmas period! I say this most years but it appears to my mind that this year has reached a new low. Vast quantities of films, and I do not watch films, but they were repeats or just rubbish! There was a glut of programmes that were aimed at the brain dead, or perhaps the middle aged, middle class women who now run TV think we are not watching anyway and can fill the screen with the cheap tosh that lies around their studios? It appears they are spending vast sums of cash developing better systems to show us programmes, and manufacturers respond with brilliant, and overpriced, televisions to watch these high quality offerings, except that the programmes themselves have little quality to offer! Almost all those I did like were repeats of those I had enjoyed before. How disappointing is this?

I must say I have enjoyed the use of the PC to listen to radio programmes however! The BBC enables us to pick up many of their programmes after they have been aired and this has been useful. I particularly enjoy Radio 3 and some of the offerings of Radio 4. Comedy, music and decent documentaries abound, usually! I must say I have really enjoyed these programmes during the last year.  The football is better on the telly mind!

While the TV was rotten the weather was not good either. Today started 'crisp.' By 'crisp' I mean freezing, possibly below freezing round here at that. My mood was not helped by getting to my bed at 1:30 and being woken by someone ringing my bell at 3:30.  By the time I woke out of a beautiful dream they had gone and disappeared. Walking around two or three times to day I was surprised by so many shops being open. I still carry the Scots attitude that on this day nothing moves. Usually in Scotland it cannot move of course!  I suspect that in Dalkeith, one of Scotland's more famous unknown places, there were no shops open, and until midday few to care! My face is hot and bothered, I think the cause is the freezing weather which bites into the face when out and reacts to the temperature, not that high in here I say writing with my woollen gloves with the fingers cut out, and leaves me hot and bothered. Where, I wish to know, is global warming?

In Scotland in days gone by 'Ne'erday' saw the Heart of Midlothian play the Hibernian in a local derby. All over the country derbies were played on this day and thousands who had spent the previous hours welcoming the New Year would attend the games. Kicking off at 2 pm,so as to allow the celebrants to return to the next party, the players would get stuck into each other with a will, a will to avoid frostbite usually! The thuggish behaviour of the old firm in Glasgow saw their game moved to a later date, and these days few derbies take place on the big day. I think this is a shame but I suppose this is progress. The fact that on Jan the second we also would play Dunfermline possibly would be too much for the overpaid darlings these days, but in the past this was the routine, and most enjoyable it was too! The fact that we usually (e.g. always) won did help!

The day is over, England returns to normal, Scotland returns to the bottle, and I return to finish the dream so rudely interrupted at 3:30 a.m! Why I ask, do we enjoy wonderful dreams and on waking instantly forget them? We have the emotion from the dream but absolutely no memory of why! So many dreams have been in colour in recent days, or maybe I have now obtained a colour licence for the dreams. I don't recall any black and white ones so why do I notice when they are in colour? maybe it's just me reading too many woman's sections in the 'Daily Mail?'  The 'Daily Mail,' now there is a post all to itself that paper. But maybe later, when I am in a more cynical mood.

Happy New Year 2010

I do not know where this picture originated,

but somehow I recognise that attitude!
I wonder if you have many resolutions to make?



I wish you all a
Happy New Year
and may 2010 be all you wish it to be.


All the best to one and all.

Hogmanay

Edinburgh-Scotland.net

Hogmanay is regarded as one of the most important days in the Scottish year. It is important in other parts of the world also but the Scots regard this as their day. This is not from arrogance, Scots as we all know are the most humble of folk, in spite of, directly or indirectly, being the origin of almost all the good things in this world. I say that full of humility, especially as I am not responsible for any good thing as far as I am aware! However I digress, the word 'Hogmanay' merely refers to the last day of the year and is the prelude of much celebration when the new year arrives. This new year will begin at midnight with the first chime of the hour, but possibly continue until the new day has dawned.

The word has many origins going back several hundred years and could even have originated from Normandy or elsewhere in Europe. The Scots of course, unlike the English next door, spent much time trading and living peaceably with their European neighbours. There was much contact with France and the Low Countries and somewhere along the line their celebrations of the New Year linked with the Scots 'Hogmanay' party spirit. However it originated is immaterial, all northern European people living in the darkness of the long winter night looked forward to Spring approaching and required a mid winter celebration to herald this. While in England they encouraged the Christmas event (one that took over the pagan 'Saturnalia' festivities) and turned that back into a pagan dissolute activity, the Scots, since the reformation, had avoided Christmas in any manner and kept the inebriation for Hogmanay. Indeed Christmas Day was not a holiday at all in Scotland till around 1960.

At midnight the bells toll, Auld Lang Syne is sung, often badly, fireworks crash into the sky, drinks are shared (Whit? In Aberdeen?) and tall, dark, handsome men approach neighbours doors carrying whisky, black bun, and possibly a lump of coal. All these symbols wishing the householder prosperity in the New Year. Folks venture from house to house, usually welcomed, sharing hospitality and greeting strangers in the street warmly. The party will continue in many places until the early hours, and often times resume later in the day well into the second day of January. Sales of whisky, beer soar at this time of the year, along with 'aspirin,' 'paracetamol' and 'Andrews Liver Salts' obviously!

Hogmanay is to be enjoyed along with the knowledge of the longer days and shorter nights, plus the opportunity to set down a marker to move on from a year that may have failed and begin a new year with a fresh start. I hope we all make the most of it!

Technology

Technologically I have always been what they call 'challenged!' For instance, there is the time I suggested to two of neighbours my intention of fixing the damaged electric socket, a simple idea in my mind but one that ended when they both began making fire engine noises. They were, it transpired, attempting to tell me something. Back in the distant past while still at school my dad used to insist that I ought to attempt to learn a trade. This did not appeal to me in any way whatsoever. However the school woodwork lessons were often enjoyable. The smell and feel of the wood, the enjoyment of working with it did make such a trade worth considering. However, my failure to make anything that worked kind of put me off. Jesus being classed as a carpenter was one thing but I would have required a lot of miracles, and some pretty dumb customers, to succeed in that line. The first item made at school woodwork was a type of boat. Having been given the wrong type of wood by the teacher mine quickly turned into a submarine. Other highlights there included the teacher, a lovely tough man whom we all admired, especially when giving six of the belt on that Lochgelly Tawse of his, informed us somberly that fingers and hands must not be placed in front of chisels! Any blood found would lead to the Tawse coming out. Three minutes later I was striving to hide the blood flowing from my left forefinger from his venom! The last item we made was a magazine rack. All was going fine until the last term when we were transferred to a miserable old goat of a teacher who we did not know, nor like. Any idea concerning getting a joinery trade faded fast when the rack I was so happy with failed to touch the ground with all four of its feet. All those calculations and measurements were a bit much for my little brain and now I have descended into senility I suspect today I would be worse!

Metalwork was noisy and rough, although watching the clever dicks suffer the belt for disobeying the strict injunction not to pick up the anvil and show off was indeed fun! How lovely to watch the class hard men wiping away tears! We also had a thing called 'Mechanics' where our favourite teacher attempted to make us understand that "When force 'A' pushes down on a pivot, force 'B' pushes upwards." Simple indeed, but our eleven year old brains found this too much. I still do not understand what that was all about? Looking back it is clear that a trade as a joiner would have been more useful than anything else I have done, although being sacked as "Useless" several times may have hindered my apprenticeship somewhat. I may well have learnt something useful and money making. However I chose an easier path, downhill!

I can recall spending weeks attempting to blow up the tyre on my bike. No pump would work and it took for ever to find one that did. I once had a motorbike, oh yes indeed, and a slight problem occurred, well two actually, the first was something wrong inside and the second I could not get the screws to turn to fix it! Hampered by this slight problem I ended up selling it to my neighbour. He then complained it had problems! There have been broken radios, TVs, Videos that would not connect with TV's and Freeview boxes that did connect, but would not work. I even treated a plant I was owned so well it committed suicide from the fourth floor! It could have been worse! Once, while aiding a nurse who complained the oxygen cylinder was not working and the patient was therefore in a life threatening situation I spent a considerable time changing cylinders, fighting with the beast and, eventually, realising she had allowed the tube from the oxygen to run under the wheel of the bed! The patient got such a boost from the simple act of moving the bed he nearly flew out the window!

Thus understanding my I refer to the washing machine with trepidation.
When I installed it all went well, except the water overflowing the standpipe of course. However I overcame that problem by transferring the waste pipe to the sink, so that's covered. Then just before Christmas the silent hermit down below attempting to play the school clype by complaining in a somewhat snooty manner about water coming through to his bathroom ceiling. He was at pains to specify that it "...wasn't his fault." Naturally I informed the landlords lass that this was occasioned after the original standpipe problem when the machine was first installed and that this had now been dealt with. I may have inadvertently added that he was a right wee nyaff and needed a good healthy kicking....in love naturally.

To ensure no leaks of any sort occurred I was told by an expert, to turn off the blue tap when not in use. This avoided any leaks, and I settled down content and happy. Today, while the central heating was pumping away, removing all the nasty cold air that we really do not require, I turned on the blue tap just before I pushed the button on the washing machine. Water spurted out and went everywhere and I suffered a realisation. I realised that there had indeed been water drenching the inbred silent one downstairs, as I had the blue tap open for the first two or three weeks since the machine arrived! Water must have leaked out everytime I used the heating! ooer missus! So we have the tricky situation in which I was wrong, (please disregard that last statement) he was indeed suffering an inundation of wet type water, and I blamed him! Naturally had he actually knocked on my door when he noticed this rather than run off to teacher something could have been done about this before now. However he never knocks on the door to complain, or for anything else. I suppose putting that dead rat at his door the other day did not please him either? There's no pleasing some people.

Correct amendments have been made to the system, and his ceiling will be shoddily repaired by the landlords chief bodger soon after New Year. I wonder if I ought to tell him my mistake, or just let him stew in his dislike of me? Hmmm, perhaps I will leave it like this, there is always something else to arise and annoy him with at a future date.

Christmas

So once again Christmas begins to pass away. The shops are littered with women desperate for bargains, usually bargains they do not need. Some returning those exciting lingerie outfits their men saw fit to give them at Christmas, and exchange them for flannelette nightgowns! A few, wiser than the rest of us, are already stocking up for birthdays ahead and next Christmas of course. The excitement of Christmas morn has already slipped away for many, the disappointment of the socks when something more exciting was hoped for being wiped out when the young ones show delight at what they received. The rising at five thirty, ripping open gleefully the pile of boxes that lie there, not all with their name on them, replaced later in the day with tears when falling off the bike, fighting with siblings and setting fire to the house accidentally. A normal Christmas routine in some areas I believe.

The cat has not been fed for four days, simply visiting every back door for miles around supplies more turkey leftovers than Sainsburys stock! Wine and beer bottles fill the recycle boxes, mostly the refuse of Uncle John and Aunt Gracie. One wonders if she will like the video of her activities when it is accidentally shown on YouTube to her workmates? In spite of the number of people stuffing themselves in any one house fridges will still be overflowing with foodstuffs that will never get eaten. The million or so starving to death somewhere in the world will bless us for this! Women are found starkers on weighing machine up and down the land, arguing with the needle as it goes further than they believe it ought to go. Just wait till he steps on the thing. That exercise bike will be brought out of the garage very quickly. And to think he once contemplated a career as a football player? When he next visits the ground they will reckon his team has a 'big' following.

Millions have been spent, much of this on credit from various places, much to bring joy and happiness, and far too much wasted but needing to be paid for. Was it worth it? Some will always say yes, others will have nothing but a depressed emptiness enlarged by others glee. Suicides increase as depressed and lonely folk feel alienated at this time. Yet more enjoy the camaraderie the season brings and are encouraged to speak to those around them they normally ignore. It's a funny time of year in many ways. A mid winter festival, once pagan, taken over for Christ, and now mostly pagan again in many places. Commercialised it may be, but without it we would have to invent another reason for this. The Scots have always had New Year for the drinking parties, only the English turned Christmas into a booze up. However we need one at this time as we await the first sign of Spring.

Christmas is always with us, for good or ill, and as for me I have had a good one, all to myself again. I hope you had a good time, in spite of all the problems associated with your life, and maybe, just maybe the Good Lord will bring a better time next year. I hope so.

Christmas Day

Christmas Greetings to all my Readers

'Yahweh bless you, and keep you.

Yahweh make his face to shine on you,

and be gracious to you.

Yahweh lift up his face toward you,

and give you peace.'

Num 6:24 World English Bible

Christmas

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The ancients, living in the south of Mesopotamia, standing outside their mud walled homes had the entire range of stars open to view each night. As time passed they came to consider the stars as portending events on earth. Priests began to record the movements in the night sky, carefully noting anything unusual. This would then be interpreted as regarding events on earth. Some kings became capable of such studies also, the need to be warned of future threats, physical and human, being their care.

Around six B.C. three planets, regarded as stars by such men, came together in conjunction, what could easily be interpreted as one bright star. Magi, possibly Jewish, came to regard this as a sign that a new King of the Jews had been born. Quite why such men should reach this conclusion if they were not Jews cannot not known , although there was a large number of Jewish settlements in the east. It is also not known where in the 'east' they resided, nor how many there were, but whatever they were convinced sufficiently of their findings to travel to Jerusalem and greet the new born King. Some Christmas cards have got into a habit of showing three men, travelling by camel, staring into the night sky and pointing out the bright star beaming down. As they brought three gifts, Gold, Incense and myrrh people conclude there were three men and that is I suppose a reasonable assumption. However it is much more difficult to imagine them travelling so many miles with just a pack of tired sandwiches and a flask of coffee! They would have had servants, probably slaves, many donkeys and camels, and if they started out together, would have joined with other travellers on the way for protection against bandits. Travelling up by the Euphrates towards what is now Turkey, or possibly the route via the Tigris, suffering heat and dust by day and deep cold by night, the travellers would cover over a thousand miles. Not a romantic enough picture for a Christmas card but reality never is.

Imagine a young girl, possibly as young as fifteen, already betrothed to a husband, living her life in an out of the way small village. Then an angel appears beside her. What would you say? To be informed she would bear a child, one who is the Son of YHWH himself and her marriage not yet confirmed, would probably unsettle most women. Mary however appears to take this in her stride, accepting Gods will even though she had yet to explain this to her husband to be! Some girl this one! Her confirmation, probably required, arrives when she visits her relative, the long barren Elizabeth and both children within respond! To be informed by your soon to be wife that she is pregnant, and that by YHWH himself, is not the sort of thing most men would accept with tranquillity yet when better informed Joseph himself accepts the situation and submits. The character of both these people is clear in their acceptance of the situation and their response to obey whatever God has given them to do. If only we could respond in similar manner?It reflects the character of God himself that he entered the world in the poorest of situations, in a nation ruled by a foreign power, subject to rebellions, violent robbers, religious extremists and the random whims of the ruling and very sick monarch. On top of this the weather could play havoc with the agricultural life, and yet this is where God enters earth.

To be called by God to such a task could give some hope of fame and fortune but it is soon evident that this will not be. The birth arrives during a census, a census that requires travelling miles, too poor for a donkey surely so a pregnant woman would have to walk to Bethlehem. By the time the slow moving pair arrive the house, and it would have been a relatives house they would have sought not an Inn, No 'Holiday Inns' in Bethlehem in those days. With the house full a cave under the house used as a barn would have set the scene for the birth.

Years of tinsel and commercialism have removed the original scene from us. Christmas card images replace reality. Yet here, in the presence of no-one bar three wealthy Magi and a handful of shepherds, considered the lowest of the low at the time, born to a young lass from an out of the way village, in a land full of trouble and strife, God himself, Immanuel, takes on our human frame. The depth of our sin, hide it from ourselves as we try, is revealed by the action of our God in doing what we could not do to save us from his eternal judgement. This babe, born so lowly, was to take our sins on the cross. This is not a time for crass commercialism but subjecting the 'self' to the one who reigns and wishes us to reign in life with him.

Christmassy

Christmassy Places

I do not know why but I feel very 'Christmassy' this year. Normally I detest the Santa Clauses (that's Father Christmas to you middle class folks), the over the top grotesque display of lights outside houses attempting to outdo one another, for charity, and the increase in prices (all with 'Only,' or 'Special,' or possibly 'Sale,' labels on them). All of them ripping us off! Now I love giving (and receiving) presents and wish I had the cash to do much more, however this supposedly Christian festival is indeed just a pagan activity. When the midwinter festival was taken over and dedicated to Christ's arrival on earth it may have appeared a good idea at the time. However it has remained merely a midwinter festival for most, and that means a big drinking time and now with added commercialism! I doubt it ever had that much religious fervour for most of its time. The Scots of course, being Calvinist, ensured Christmas was celebrated soberly and left celebrating new year for the drinking, a sensible way of controlling things.

While I detested most of this for years I find in recent times I want to be with a big family at Christmas, my family, and that is now impossible. Folks are too split apart and too many kids need to visit too many grannies or their grasping hearts will not be content! I am so keen on this Christmas that I find myself singing songs about snowmen, while aiming bricks at those I actually see around me. I searched for a radio station today just because it would be playing carols! On top of this I failed to stand in front of 'Santa's Grotto' in the town centre yelling "You don't exist you liar! You are a fake," and successfully leaving dozens of crying kids running to their mum's! Today I merely passed by and muttered "Happy Christmas," to a lady of easy virtue dressed as one of Santa's pixies in green shorts and a somewhat tight fitting outfit. Mind you a quick glance at her face showed she had seen a few Christmases in her time, I did not realise Pixies were that old.

I am even beginning to regret falling out with folks just before Christmas so as to avoid sending them cards and gifts, I wish I had received more myself now! Sadly I am even beginning to wish
I had not thrown my strip of tinsel away that time. Ah well, the dinner is in the fridge, the pudding in the cupboard, the cream in the fridge and enough beer to make Mike S smile in the fridge, so my intention of losing a stone this month will not come to pass. The religious side will manifest itself however, Jesus is always there, and I hope to spend the day nearer to him!

Snow is Still Horrid!

Sitting here, wrapped up in a sleeping blanket, woollen gloves with the fingers cut out on my hands, I rejoice that today is the shortest day of the year! This is the day I look for more than any other for today heralds the first day of Spring! Yes I realise it is a long, cold, way off, but from tomorrow the days begin to get longer, the nights shorter, and life so much better for everyone, especially me! I love daylight and warmth and winter brings darkness and cold, as you will notice by looking out of my grubby window. Snow, and not just snow, but wet cold, snow at that, has fallen all over the area. Planes lie grounded at airports, cars begin to slowly slide sideways of the roads, and the poor among us begin to freeze to death - what are you looking at me for?


James May has been doing some interesting programmes in recent days and many of them are about toys. Yes those expensive things kids get at Christmas and break by lunchtime. I am watching, half heartedly, one at the moment. This one is about girls toys and they feature a number of girls toys and far too many people talking about them. Amongst the 'experts' that appear we have the usual 'psychologist,' there is always one and always female, who blabs on about studies with apes. Now I did not catch how long, nor how expensive, the study was but I did notice her commenting that they concluded that girls preferring girls toys was not social engineering but genetic. In short, girls play with dolls and boys with train sets because that is how they are made. She sounded smug in her research. Gosh, what a result. Walking about with an open mind and a pair of eyes would have shown this to the dumbest, well ought to have shown this to the dumbest long ago. While there are some who deviate from this, and there is nothing to stop a girl driving a train - although I bet she lets the men shovel the coal into the engine - generally people left to themselves become either male or female, no 'gender' required.

Dangerous Snow!

Now I am not one to complain, but when I threw off the duffel coat, removed the anorak, dumped the three pullovers, two rugby shirts and two pair of hikers trousers, along with the four pair of socks and the pair of army boots, I then climbed out of bed to be greeted with several inches of snow! After rubbing myself down with whale blubber I donned the several layers required to stay alive while sitting at the PC and chipped the ice of the window so I could see out. All night the gales had been blowing leaving a blanket of the white stuff across the region. Cars have been stranded, trains delayed airports closed and several husky teams have passed by. Polar explorers aiming for the Antarctic and a flock of penguins were seen in the High Street! This of course has led to headlines about 'CHAOS,' and 'End of the world!' Not that the papers ever exaggerate!


However as I ventured out this morning, without ski's, I was aware of how icy the pavements and roads are. The main roads are cleared of course but the side roads remain treacherous, and few venture over 20 miles an hour there. Kids were happily throwing snowballs at helpless old women and breaking the windows of passing cars, white van drivers were out to prove that they were not intellectuals by speeding along side streets, and doom merchant turkeys are wandering about the farms crying "The end is nigh!"

As the sun shone and the blue sky glimmered above, and a few birds braved the cold to find lunch I, naturally, was busy falling flat on my backside while crossing the road! It is always a dangerous corner so I went for it and soon found myself in the gutter. 'Home Sweet Home' a passer-by muttered as he passered-by. Now my wrist is slightly aching and in the morning will be as stiff as a Taliban after the PWRR have passed by.

Now I am not a killjoy but finding my great niece is so keen on this snow stuff, and just as well according to what is going to hit them tomorrow, finding her enjoying this horrid weather and praying for more irks me! While I lay under seven feet of blankets last night she was busy in the back yard as the horrid stuff fell!



Looks like her dad right enough!

Sniper One

'Sniper One' at Amazon (link to the right!)

After the invasion of Iraq there was a huge role for the occupying forces to establish a stable government. The incompetence of Bush and his mates meant an ongoing war between many factions made this difficult. The British Armed forces were given the task, among others, of stabilising Al Amarah a town in the southern Shia area. This area, the cradle of civilisation with Ur of the Chaldea's and Uruk just two of the ancient cities going back five millennia or so. Al Amarah did not have that sort of heritage. 'Sniper One,' by Sergeant Dan Mills, tells the story of the 1st Battalion Princess of Wales Royal Regiments (PWRR) tour there in 2004. The story concentrates on the Sniper Platoon, giving an insight into their operation and importance to the army. Expecting this to be a quiet 'tree hugging' tour, escorting those involved in rebuilding the country, with patrols and happy smiles for the locals, the tour became one of the great British operations of recent years.

Al Amarah turned out to be a stinking Arab town. Stinking because of the breakdown of the sewerage system with no effort being made to repair it. The dusty roads, the great heat and opposition of many of the locals did not make the place welcoming. At this time also trouble was brewing in Najaf where the US were confronting Moqtada Al-Sadr, the most powerful Shia leader, in Najaf Old City where he took refuge with his followers in the Imam Ali Mosque. Imam Ali is the man from whom Shia Islam descends and when this most holy place to Shiites was damaged by US action Moqtada ensured Al Jazeera TV was on hand to advertise the assault to all the Middle East. The resulting tumult ensured all Shia, including those who had favoured the coalition forces, joined together in attacking them at any opportunity. US use of tact one of their less known abilities.

Al Amarah was also full of black shirted OMS men. Their chance to meet the local OMS men occurred on the first patrol, innocently stopping at a Police station to greet the police and discovering this was the OMS headquarters. It took several warrior trucks and aid from a passing company of Argyles to extract them, severely hurt, from the fight. There was not going to be much 'tree hugging' on this tour.

The battle group endured daily incoming fire of various degrees and as the Najaf standoff continued the OMS responded accordingly. An arrest by night of leading opponents brought much opposition, and that at a time a resupply column had to enter the town! During this confrontation several warrior vehicles came under severe fire. Private Johnson Beharry drove his badly damaged warrior through the fight and into safety, his head exposed to save his comrades. Much later he was to do similar again. On this occasion after the warrior had been hit by an RPG and injuring him severely, he continued to drive the vehicle, in reverse, until it took his comrades out of danger. He was later awarded the Victoria Cross!

After the US had damaged the Imam Ali Mosque and Al Jazeera TV covered the action Iraq took the side of Moqtada! This put the situation of the men in CIMIC under great duress. There followed a month long siege during which hundreds of mortars fell by day and night. Thousands of rounds were exchanged between the sides, and even an attempt at seizing the building had to be repulsed. One man thought it was like the 'Alamo,' it was more like 'Zulu!' No one informed him that those at the Alamo were wiped out!

The action in the book reaches a crescendo during the month long defence of the compound. The longest continuous action by the British army since the Korean war, and the lengthiest defence since WW2! The troops, and the book centres on the Sniper Platoon on the roof, endured the battle while the compound was devastated by mortar and raked by RPG and rifle fire. In spite of injury and lack of provisions they decided to hang on in there rather than evacuate. The belief was that they could win this conflict, and they had no intentions of losing control of the town, in spite of the siege.and they did!

When the troops were eventually relieved, after a peace agreement had been achieved by the leading Shia Imam, the accounts were totalled. The battle group had two dead and 48 seriously wounded. The opposition dead must have run into hundreds, possibly thousands! One Victoria Cross was awarded to the battle group, Two Conspicuous Gallantry Crosses, (one down from the VC.) There were many other medals including a 'Mention in Dispatches' for the leader of the Sniper platoon, 'Sniper One himself, Sergeant Dan Mills.

We are left with a better understanding of what the Iraq war meant to the troops, good information of how they fought and what the war meant to the ordinary soldier, and an unforgettable experience of 'being there with them.' Books such as this show the army for what it is and bring home to us the reality of war, both the heroics and the routine. It is wise to read this and understand better the experience of war that the media cannot bring us. The rights and wrongs of the war cannot be dealt with by such books, soldiers ask questions much later if at all. However what it means and how it affects men can be gleamed by this honest appraisal of the action.

Snow is Horrid!

The freezing, gray clouds above me are arriving from the far northern reaches of Russia are bringing cold white lumps of horribleness that are falling everywhere. Snow! Snow that horrible white stuff that brings nothing but cold, wet, misery everywhere.The roads get blocked, trains stop running, aircraft fall from the sky as their wings freeze, and on the ground some nutter is running around saying "Isn't it lovely?"And dancing around in the stuff. Well NO It's NOT actually! It's horrid!!!And I hope you catch pneumonia!

Opposite me the gentle falling white flakes have landed, lying thickly on the ground, but nowhere near as thick as the people who like this stuff and are walking about gleefully slipping over and breaking bits of themselves. These flakes are still landing as I write, and while I write I wear three vests, four shirts, two pullovers, two pairs of trousers, four socks on each foot, my ex army boots, a woolly hat and gloves with the fingers cut out to avoid frostbite! Gallons of hot drinks are poured down my throat but the chill remains, and the cause is Russian snow! Through 'Jack Frost' on the window I can see the park gardeners completing the igloo they will use to survive until going home time. Around them teams of huskies pull people home from Christmas shopping, icicles hanging from frozen blue noses. I am sure I saw David Attenborough chasing a polar bear or a walrus a minute ago. Across the country folk are moving about on ski's and having what they call 'fun?' Are these folk mental?

Cars will be crashing all day, insurance companies rubbing their hands as they refuse to pay out, "Act of God, mate, out of our hands the weather like," they will lie while pocketing a bonus. TV will carry pictures of broken cars, skidding ambulances, grounded rescue helicopters and of course some nutter in a red suit with reindeer in the High Street. SANTA DOESN'T EXIST YOU PLONKER! It's just a Coca Cola advert! On top of this the 'Daily Mail' reader will be complaining the gritters are not out, their road is always last, and it's all the governments fault and they should lower our taxes! Personally I cannot be doing with these Moaning Minnie's. Just get on with it I say!

In Copenhagen the masses are arguing about money halting global warming while they ought to be developing ways of sharing out all that sunshine that is wasted on Africans! Why should the Sahara need all that sunshine when the rest of us are freezing in our homes! How come the Mediterranean gets hours of sunshine day by day and we live under a gray cloud half the time? It's just not fair and it is time those attending (at great expense) Copenhagen's 'Jolly' got their lazy heads around sharing out the sunshine in a more fair manner, e.g. by giving it to us!

Right, until this horrid snow clears up I am going back to bed, If I can thaw out the blankets.