Ah Sunshine! Consonum Ensemble and US Geography

Ah Sunshine! Is not an expression used by a member of her majesties constabulary as I approach, bag full of copper wire under my arm, him in the middle of the night, it is in fact my thoughts as I looked at the picture above. Indeed sunshine has arrived this week, hidden behind periods of what I take to be volcanic ash, if the reports in the media are to be believed that is. What a difference sunshine makes to the world! OK the chill wind bringing the volcanic ash in our direction is of course leaving the Arctic Circle, crossing Iceland and running in through the cracks in the window ledge, but at least there is sufficient brightness to watch the clouds flying by high overhead.


Encouraged by the bright sky I tossed aside the ageing army blankets and leapt slowly out of bed. Slamming the radio alarm clock against the wall out of habit I breakfasted on stale bread and staler coffee and headed up the road. Taking the old Roman road west I flew down the hill like John Surtees of old and struggled up the other side like John Surtees today would on my bike. That was a slow couple of miles, and against the breeze powerful wind at that. Turning into the old railway I stopped to enjoy the early morning. The sun shone, the ponies in the field flicked their tails at flies, birds flitted from branch to branch, as did the squirrels and the wee beasties flitted over the stagnant pond, now bare of the ducks who obviously couldn't stand it any more. The sound from the bypass to my right informed the dog walkers and myself of those racing to their employment, dropping the kids of at the better schools or ending their long weary night trip from far off lands such as Birmingham and Cardiff. Guilt once again crossed my mind and I find this hard to keep away. (When I returned home another employer showed no such guilt by rejecting my advances to him, just like all the rest.) So nothing left to do but enjoy it while I can so passing the smiling dogs, and unsmiling owners, I made my way down the slope. This is of course the good bit! Having struggled up the roadway to get here I required a downward slope or a defibrillator! I used to cycle further than this you know! Anyway past the horses and the natural world around I continued homewards in contemplative mood. Happy with my efforts at attempting fitness I began the climb up the minor road near home when I was overtaken by a cyclist going up the slope at high speed. "Good Morning," she spat spitefully as she saw me struggling for it was indeed a she on the bike! "Bitch!" I thought, "Just you wait until you want a jar opened!"  As I began the last leg I noticed her heading towards the industrial estate, hopefully a forty ton lorry will mistake her for a rat and run her over! (in love obviously) 

I stole this from the excellent Ben Lomand Free Press 

a website you need to visit!

Look carefully at this picture from a US Sports broadcast!

For those of you in the Surbiton area I suggest you need to visit this 

excellent programme from the Consonum Ensemble

An excellent musical treat in store here.

Shop Fronts

I came across this shop doorway in Harwich when a beautiful woman drove me there hoping to push me into the harbour. This very small town, now somewhat run down, was abounding in public houses, probably because of the historical harbour, and certainly because the Royal Navy based the submarines there during the Greta War. However this shop doorway caught our attention and no wonder. It was closed, and appeared to have been that way for a while, and whatever product Mr Smith retailed to his clientèle was not obvious to our eyes. 

 

However the wonderful tiled picture portrays a nattily dressed male collecting fruit of some sort, possibly apples, and passing them down to his lady, also overdressed for working in the fields. There are no large superstores in the town as far as I could see but there must be one a short drive away. Such stores were the death nell for small shops and while many complain about the closure of the High Street few are willing to pay the higher prices that are charged there. 

Modern shops are not as well presented as this one, and this is a pity. Plastic and large glass panes, often with lurid lighting and lettering, now deface many otherwise attractive buildings. Many ancient tenements are ignored by the passer by however a few minutes observance will reveal the talent that went into their construction. Scotland has of course many such buildings. Scots egalitarianism was aided by the need of Edinburgh's citizens to live in close proximity on the High Street leading up to the castle. It also bred many famous diseases and this in turn led to many famous doctors learning their trade and discovering their cures simply by existing in such squalor. Life is far better today and the buildings now feature all the most modern appliances, however, as Stephen Sweeney's photo of this Glasgow example reveals, they could sometimes do with a bit of cleaning!

  

Note the pinkish sandstone much used in Glasgow, the windows, and the decoration. The quality of the work is outstanding. Compare this with the Pink shop doorway further up and wonder! 

Funny Old World

"It's a funny old world," the man said, though actually he didn't, someone having put words into his mouth. Now imagine trying to do that to a woman? However the thought was right enough as this world can be very funny at times. Many tales are heard from the United States for instance of people suing successfully for injuries received by their action. Take the man who attempted suicide by jumping in front of a train. He failed to die, suffered horrendous injuries, sued the rail company and won millions! Or the woman who sued a burger joint because she slipped on coffee spilt on the floor. Coffee spilt by her badly behaved and uncontrolled child! It happens here also, a while back a burglar fell through a glass roof of the house he was attempting to enter illegally and successfully sued the householder for his many injuries. Legally then it is indeed a 'funny old world.' 


Meaningless thoughts like this often cross my mind as I wander around town looking for something to complain about. I often creep about the supermarket car park as there is always a vehicle to grumble at, badly parked, the driver maybe throwing rubbish out of the window, or just being the wrong colour. I hate that!  If it's just grumbling I wish to fill my time with then wandering into the supermarket itself does this easily enough. Here for instance is a trick all the shops use, an exclamation mark means 'LOOK HERE! THIS IS A BARGAIN' but in fact the price has actually increased and dafties like me come along and buy twice as many as we require. Shops own beans are another good example of the funny world of ours. These were selling happily at 9p until the recession hit. Up jumped the price to 29p and the supermarkets encouraged us to buy the 'Shops own' labels. This we all promptly began to do, convinced we were getting a bargain and shovelling large handfuls of cash into the directors coffers! No wonder their profits are greater than many countries Gross National Product!  Worse than banker these folk may be however they are not worse than the women who shop therein. If there is a child screaming somewhere it will be accompanied by a deaf mother. If there is a hold up at the checkout a woman will be slowly, ever so slowly, searching for her cash, which she will pay one coin at a time. If there is a clear aisle to be found one woman plus one trolley will shortly be filling it and making the whole place grind to a halt. Men of course do not act in this manner. Men always know what they want, obtain this quickly and leave in an orderly manner, unless of course they have retired and have all day to swan about in shops. Such men take all day, chatting to everyone, forgetting what they came in for, and indulging in hour long conversations with the bored lass at the checkout. Some shops have little cards advertising local businesses near the exits. It is quite fun to take one of the cards from a local funeral director and slip it into the pockets of these men, as a hint like. Consider this, they say there are more deaths caused by arguments in kitchens, because that is where the sharp stuff happens to be, but I suspect supermarkets may lead to more deaths than people expect. You will notice there are no sharp or heavy blunt items placed near the checkouts.


This years election has of course produced some funny goings on. The absurd TV debates brought the almost totally ignored Liberal-Democrat leader Nick Clegg to the fore. Sky News had demanded the 'Leaders Debate' because they realised David Cameron's personality would outshine the dour Scot Gordon Brown. This did not happen as Clegg outshone both and suddenly the Conservative victory disappeared from sight. That made me laugh anyway! Now that no single party obtained the right to govern we have a shambles. Political skulduggery, back scratching, threats and yet behind it all are three losers who are attempting to form a government! If that is not something funny I do not know what is! They should all be out on their ear. The 24 hour TV coverage has sapped my telly so much the thing no longer works, and I cannot blame it. While the story is important do we really need such over the top coverage on 24 hour News Channels? Does nothing else happen in this world?
Ha! After I mused on that the man Clegg has seen fit to put the man 'Dave' into a position of responsibility. David Cameron Prime Minister! Is he our version of Bush? The two 'toffs' have stitched this up as they are so eager to grab a piece of the action. While I understand this I wander how things will turn out. A poor election, a poor result, and a poor government in front of us, this all augurs badly for the immediate future. I have never known an election like this! 


This week will see along queue of desperate people lining up to obtain their Lotto tickets. The roll over on Wednesday is worth £10 million and that would pay even my credit card bill. On Friday the 'Euro' Lottery offers some £87 million as a prize. It is no wonder people buy the tickets. I watched a queue last week and was put off somewhat buy the desperation in the eyes. The idea that this money, only £57 million last Friday, would end all their problems is of course a dream, but still we try. Most would be happy with enough to pay all the debts, look after the family, and possibly to retire, buy the house or take that 'special' holiday. How many of us could really cope with so much money? Could we actually spend that much? I could, but only a small portion on myself. The things that could be done to improve life in a million small ways, the smiles that could be produced by careful use of the cash, and still plenty for the self, that most evil of all creatures. However money does not bring peace an security. Illness cares nought for cash, not does misfortune or Lady Luck. What we worship we become and so many spend so much time with money they only wish to have more. Millions are never enough. There is something missing within us when we are so desperate to win that Lottery. I know it every time I find myself day dreaming of what I could do with all that lucre. Hmm is that the time. Time I put my mince and tatties on to cook..... 


My luck with technology continues. As I mentioned in passing my TV has died. It was working perfectly well earlier but when I switched it on nothing happened, a little bit like opening my wallet these days. Naturally I changed the fuse, and then blew one myself as it made no difference. I suspect this state of affairs may continue for a while now. I could make an effort to search the web for info regarding fixing the brute but the last time I made to mend electrical equipment my then neighbours stood there making fire engine noises and that made me change my mind. Life without a TV, some folks could not exist this way. In 1978 I gave up the telly, and missed many programmes people told me were 'classics.' I did miss the football, and the news pictures, but my news came from the BBC World Service on the radio and I read lots of books, and of course worked shifts at the time and I did not return to TV possession until 1986. That of course was World Cup year and it was time for a change. The absence of the box sharpened my appreciation of the programmes offered and is one reason I despise almost all on offer today! Mind boggling 'pap' is the majority and until this years World Cup begins there will be little on view to change my opinion. It's a funny old world that changed in the early fifties when TV became available in almost every house. This screen educated, entertained, and brought a new world into many lives at that time. It was indeed an exciting adventure. However the face glued to the box killed some conversation and did it have a detrimental effect on family life? Not really sure if that is true, if not watching the box the family would be involved in their own affairs anyway, that is how it is.


Books however do change lives and in my view for the better! Standing in a bookshop some time back it crossed my mind just how useful, or destructive books can be. While they can entertain, educate and enthral it is possible for them also to fill the mind with propaganda of a vile sort. Books which aim at the lowest common denominator, in any subject, often sell more than books with a high ideal! Books, unlike a TV company, can cover any subject and reflect the life of the day in a way impossible for a programme that really has first of all to sell itself with reference to TV ratings before anything else. A book can be thrown aside and forgotten only to be picked up, possibly years later, and still change an individual and even the world! 
We learn through books, no school can do without them no matter how many PC screens are in the classroom, skills are developed by study of books on almost any subject under the sun, the world is explained by books, sometimes correctly, and also entertained in a way TV cannot accomplish.  God reveals himself through a book he has caused to be written, commuters ignore fellow travellers by hiding their face in a book, soaking up the sun on holiday the tourist occupies their mind through books, illness which brings limited movement is often eased by reading books. How can we live without them? I confess a bias as I read constantly, although not when walking down the road. At least not since the incident at the grocers. The bathroom contains several books that I am working through, according to my mood, the bedroom has many lined up there (Yes Mike two of yours are there) and around five hundred fill spaces here and there. The one thing I fear if I won large amounts of cash would be walking into a bookshop. This could be dangerous! 
Yet in my family few read much. An occasional paper, and a few 'coffee table' books can be found, but the TV and gossip supplies most of their needs it appears, and unlike me these folk are quite bright. One nephew has always got his face in books, and books I have no time for, novels! What a waste of time these are. Write a novel and it will be regarded as something of importance when in fact it is just a story, such books may as well begin, "Once upon a time..." It is funny how folks get so hot under the collar about their novels importance and the intellectuals demand such books are regarded, not  as stories but, 'novels,' something that changes the world. 
Sorry pal, they don't. 

Seasons End

The season ended today, at long last. This has been a trying time for the supporters of the Heart of Midlothian, although that is a phrase that is not unheard of at this time of year. Cabsa Laslo's side had their good points, and he had earned a Europe place with a third place finish the season previous, however all was not well and by January Vlad had removed his umpteenth manager and brought in the man recently sacked by Kilmarnock, Jim Jefferies! This Hearts great, both as a player and the manager who brought the cup back to Tynecastle after a long, long wait, was the ideal man to stiffen the resolve and get the best out of the flotsam and jetsam that lay about the dressing room. This he did ensuring a top six finish, a thing at one time that appeared impossible, and almost got the club a place in next years Europe competition. Ah well, that can wait as now Jim has the opportunity, and hopefully the permission to bring in cheap and experienced players who can give us a top three finish, and possibly more. 


There is no doubt the Heart of Midlothian are the only club in Scotland who can challenge the Old Firm and under Jim's frown there is a chance we can once again do this. The proof of our ability is found in the Glasgow media's desperate attempts to unsettle our players and spread scandalous stories about the club and the fans. However this is what we expect of them!


This long hard season ends and we can forget about football, apart from a cup final or two, and rest our weary emotions before we cheer on anyone who is playing England in the World Cup when it starts in June. Ah yes, the cars in this part of engerland are displaying more and more St George's flags these days as the engerland fans build themselves up into the usual state of hysteria such competitions bring. These folks really do believe that they are superior beings, they really do believe that England are one of the top nations in the football world, and they really do come crashing to earth when the truth hits them in the face like a brick through a window. Of course they will blame us, that's what they usually do!


For sadists who wish to delve deep into the heart of a true Heart of Midlothian fan and wish to share the emotional roller coaster that this God given life offers I can do no better than refer them to our friend Mike Smith (Mrs S giving permission for him to be up at this time of night of course) and there the depth of Hearts life will be revealed.
A 'must read' this one! 'Last Day Shenanigans.'

p.s. He is old, he is a granddad!

Exhausted

I'm exhausted, I have been attempting to understand how our newly elected government works and am finding it all too much. They were all bad, all full of promises, all expected victory  and what happens, disaster. 'Dave' thinks he has won but in truth has failed to win because he through away a huge majority and has been left short of victory, even Tories don't want him really. Clegg expected a huge boost and got nothing except a chance to be used by the other two. Brown was to lose and yet still remains in office and might continue for years yet. The English blame the Scots and Welsh for not voting Tory - in spite of what the bitch Thatcher did to them - and some cry for an English parliament, ignoring the fact they have one at Westminster. A shambles and I told you it would be!

May 6th Voting Day

One thing that annoys me, and I am not one easily annoyed, one thing that annoys me are the people who must always be first in everything! You see them everywhere these days, standing at the front when the sales are on, pushing though the crowd to board a plane first, buying the latest technology or fashion just so this capture can be paraded before the awe struck world, all this for empty pride! It's a disgrace and this annoys me. It annoyed me even more this morning when I went to do my citizens duty and cast my vote at 7a.m and found four such people there before me! Typical! I imagine they got up early just to be there before me!They just had to be first to make me wait while they collected their voting slip, and then watch them vote for the wrong man! It's a depressing sight.


There again while doing the 'YOUGOV' survey this morning I found myself asked, "Who will you vote for" and I had no answer! I didn't want to vote for any of the names, or parties, on the slip. Six candidates from established political parties, no numpties applying this time, although an anti tax on fuel chap was considering this. When I took my slip and entered the voting booth I still had no answer! Six candidates and whatever one I voted for was going to leave me feeling guilty about selecting them! They are all bad, both the individual candidates and the parties they represent. However it is vital we all vote and this I believe ought to be compulsory so at times like these we need an extra space on the form, preferably marked 'Abstain' or 'I reject them al!' I made a selection and have been carrying the guilt all day, and when the result comes through I imagine I will feel no better. This is a poor election and the enthusiasm some have shown is a sad reflection on this nation.

What do you think this drink is made of? 
Will it really be made of 'Birds Nests?

A 'landmark' study has announced the astonishing 'fact' that many of us human beings carry within us the genes of Neanderthals! The BBC report goes into this at some length and it appears some scientists have been surprised by such findings. Of course there are those among us who have had experience of 'face to face' meetings with such creatures, either humans who contained Neanderthal genes, or full blown Neanderthals of a type often seen at Ibrox or Celtic Park. Such beings are easily identified, whether wearing blue woad or green. Look out for them.

The Cloud Hanging Over Us All!

BBC

Today, the world rejoices, is the last day of electioneering! Tomorrow we go to the polls and choose one or another mediocre failure to lead the nation into the great anti-climax that lies ahead of us. Now I am not one to complain as you know, and I am not cynical in any way, but this is the worst election I can remember, and whoever wins will be a disappointment! Even worse will be a 'hung' parliament (and what a good idea hanging parliamentarians sounds) is also bad. Either winner will chase the Lib-Dems for support and they will encourage daft ideas, not that they could be worse than many already filling our world. 

The futures bleak, and none of this lot will provide the answer!

May

I read somewhere today that the 1st day of May was the beginning of 'Summer.' I am not sure if that is true, but as it has rained constantly for three days and the northern wind has been dumping left over volcanic ash onto us, along with the blossom petals flung from these trees I suspect it might be summer after all. 

Derby Day Disaster - for Hibernian!

BBC Report

Some things can become a habit, alcohol, drug taking, and Heart of Midlothian beating the Hibs! Once again we went with a squad that had failed miserably last weekend, a squad struggling for form this season, although clearly revitalised by Jim Jeffries return. Hibs had of course begun the season with one of their rare 'blips.' beating all comers at home and away they began to indulge delusions of grandeur as the fans actually talked of 'splitting the old firm.' The only things to be split were the sides found on Hearts fans! Naturally by Christmas the signs were there, winning against the run of play, fans unhappy with attitudes and performances, and inevitably the post Xmas slide. The 'Big Team' meanwhile had found an ability to fight for survival under Big Jim and took their place in the top six. In spite of a lack of experienced forwards the club has achieved results and the win at Easter Road was to be expected.

Dougie MacDonald, in my view the best referee in Scotland, unfortunately is known to support Hibernian and in previous games there has grown up a 'suspicion' that he allows them benefits unavailable to the Heart of Midlothian. I have come to perceive this is not true, however in the best tradition of Scots referees our Dougie gave Hibernian a penalty clearly unwarranted, at least it looked that way on the radio! Non of the commentators considered a penalty ought to have been awarded and as a result Hibernian took a one goal lead, against the run of play. (You BOO! at this point)  However our boys behaved as Hearts players always do in such circumstances, we just got on with the game. A substitution or two and before long we found the wee man Elliot laying the ball back to our man Suso Sentana and the Spaniard scored our deserved equaliser. (You may cheer at this point) It was not long before the natural order of things resulted. In the 88th minute a mistake from the Hibernian goalkeeper, something Hibernian goalkeepers are famed for, allowed the mighty Obua to tap the winning goal over the line! (You may cheer and jump about and 'wave' at Hibs fans as they leave the ground at this point!)  Once again the Heart of Midlothian defeat Hibernian. 

The Edinburgh Derby, Belonging to the Heart of Midlothian since 1875!

Brooks Newmark

It was clear today that an election is near. The towns MP was wandering about with his lackeys handing out 'Vote for ME!' leaflets and lots of false smiles. His lackeys, each and everyone dressed 'Tory style' bore their rosettes with pride, as you would when you have a three thousand majority and thanks to boundary changes you will possess a six to ten thousand majority on Friday morning. He at least understand football and after living in Newcastle became a true fan of Newcastle United! Not bad for an American! (Being a Yank explains his strange name I suppose!) I came across a quote this week that appears relevant, "People never lie so much as after a hunt, during a war, or before an election," and Otto von Bismark should know! Debating with a politician is like trying to hold oil in your hand, slippery and non co-operative! Oil of course does not give you half truths and a 'pass the buck' attitude however. Anyway I almost missed them as the sun being out meant that in spite of the chill wind that blew the girls all dressed for the beach! One badly placed lampost near the junction had several men walking into when looking at things bouncing past them. I bumped into one or two myself, although that was no accident. Watching reflections in shop windows is an old trick......

Sky

A quick glance at the sky this morning shows clearly that volcanic ash no longer hinders air flights! Last week this sky was a deep, clear blue, with an occasional cloud scudding by. Today planes landing at Stansted or passing high overhead on their way from Europe and beyond across the Atlantic to Canada and the States leave vapour trails for all to see. No global warming some say, and if there is it is natural, well I beg to differ! There is indeed evidence of melting ice caps, I first read about this in 1968, and if aircraft and man's industry has no responsibility then I will go listen to a woman talking about her baby!  Interesting patterns mind!

 

So for a few days I have been getting out on the bike in an effort both to get fit and to lose weight. However I also managed also to pick up one of those bugs that never leave me so on Wednesday I ate very little indeed. Yesterday I ate a little more normally but still much less than the usual. This morning I joyfully stood on the scales, hoping the 15 and a half stone had been reduced by at least ten pounds! To my horror I was almost back at 16 stone again!!!!!!! How come? I have decided to fast for three weeks living only only water and cheap wine. If this doesn't work I will just become a fat pig!

Thursday

FreeFoto

The main result of the dubious 'Prime Minister's Debate' has been to watch the Right wing press launch an attack on the otherwise forgotten Lib Dems! Normally Clegg and his party would be tolerated as the ones who finish third, obtain a few seats, and are largely ignored. Since the first debate when Clegg's image was given a great boost 'Dave' Cameron and his press have been running scared. Cameron thought he would soon be prime minister, now he realises he might lose! What to do? Well one thing is to promise everything to everyone, which is normal, but 'Dave'' is getting a bit anxious about this, and another is to get the press to work on the enemy. Up till the first debate Brown was the one insulted daily by Mr Cameron's backers, now all has changed.

'The Daily Mail' has at least two items daily on the online page attacking Nick Clegg. He is just as much a 'Toff' as 'Dave' they cry, he has fiddled his expenses (like Dave maybe?) and if there is a whiff of sin then it will be trumpeted aloud! 'Dave' himself is of course represented as doing the right thing at all times although even the 'Mail' points out his faults occasionally, less so now he is in trouble of course.  Many of those who comment on the articles point out his failures and their desire to vote UKIP (the racists in suits) or BNP (the racists in cheap suits). 'The Times,' part of Rupert Murdoch's empire, follows slavishly the 'Dirty Digger's' desire to support 'Dave' partly because the 'Times'  thought 'Dave' would win at a canter, but mostly because these good NUJ members put their jobs before their principles (as if a journalist had principles!). The 'Mail' also has Clegg attacking Brown, even if he doesn't realise he is doing this, but it all helps to ensure that the reader knows Cameron and his lackey's are the ones to vote for. Whether newspapers, and I use that word loosely, whether newspapers actually have an effect on voting patterns I am not sure. TV images clearly do, and like John F. Kennedy in the early 60's it is clear the nation (and to the surprise of many this does include Scotland and Wales, although the English media have along with one Scottish (Tory voting) judge have failed to notice this) has taken to the 'Lib Dems' and may even pull off a shock result. Indeed they might, and it remains as 'might' have an influence on the make up of the next cabinet! If a 'hung parliament' (and hands up all those who wish to hang parliamentarians? I thought so!) occurs then who knows who will be the next PM? Whoever it is there is no doubt the nation, and I mean all of it, is in a mess indeed. Morally corrupted by wealth and secular liberalism and heavily in debt, the next few years will be difficult for any Prime Minister, worse for whichever one of this lot takes over.

A teacher has been cleared of attempted murder and grievous bodily harm. The recipient of his wrath was a 14 year old brat who, along with his classmates, had deliberately taunted the poor man on several occasions, knowing that he had been suffering from stress. One even filmed the taunting on her mobile phone! Having had enough when the boy told him to "Fuck off," the teacher dragged him outside and laid into him with a 3k weight. GOOD ON HIM I SAY! Naturally the police had to treat the kid 'sensitively, in spite of his many brushes with authority previously. The teacher they locked up!

However today the jury returned a "Not Guilty" verdict WITHIN TWO HOURS! The judge will sum up in a couple of weeks time. Had we a sensible judge he would wish the kids to be prosecuted, the police , the head teacher and the Education Authority sacked, and ensure the return of the Lochgelly Tawse into schools. That is the only way to control adolescents! There is no other way!

Who Do You Support?

Discuss this with Max here.  

Calvin and Hobbes

Last night I opened the 'Calvin and Hobbes' book that was gathering dust and laughed out loud very loudly! Today I found this 'Comic' website which features the wee chaps as well as many other cartoon strips! There is something about Calvin that only adults can appreciate. He is not aimed at kids, as they do not understand him, yet adult males and their wives comprehend him easily. The one has been there and the other cleans up the mess, usually complaining her other half is still back there as a six year old.  The character is so real, especially when fantasising as 'Biff' the space hero chased by monsters,usually his teacher or his parents! Children's fears about the monster hiding under the bed are well covered, and we all had such fears, I still do! I am convinced there is something creeping around down there, but I am too scared to look.  Many readers will identify with the behaviour of Calvin's Mum & Dad. I love the scenes where she is angry, and that is often, naturally the blame lies with the father! His explanations to his son regarding life are a lesson to all dad's everywhere.


Calvin, named after John Calvin, and his highly intuitive stuffed tiger Hobbes, named after the English philosopher Thomas Hobbes, ran for eleven years and was a comic strip published in hundreds of papers world wide. Millions of the books have been sold, and I only have one 'The Essential Calvin and Hobbes,' and yes that was a hint. One of the attractions was the way the strip uses the mind of a six year old to occasionally explore major political, environmental or philosophical questions. This simplifies things and often gives a clearer understanding than many heavy tomes. 


The creator of the strip,  Bill Watterson, refused to become involved in commercialisation of the strip, declaring that this took away from the art form. He also refused to allow the strip to be animated, being 'scared' to hear Calvin's voice. I must say I agree, 'Dennis the Menace' did not speak with an English accent as he was created in Dundee, yet he does on the animation! The Peanuts characters voices grate, and not just because they are American (Imagine if this had been based in the Ozarks!) but because the voice in your head is better than the animators voice always.  


I love this cartoon, it is witty, satirical, engages the life around us in a simple yet profound manner. 'Calvin and Hobbes' appear to be a cartoon strip to make us laugh, but they manage to make us think also. Such a shame   
Bill Watterson moved on to other things!


Calvin and Hobbes Story


Calvin and Hobbes on Go Comics

Typical Spring

Waking early yesterday morning I was quickly aware that Spring was in full flow, the streets were damp and above hung a bright gray cloud the type of cloud well known to those who live north of Hadrian's Wall. Such weather has of course some advantages. The place was deserted bar an occasional dog walker, who like all Englishmen he wore his summertime shorts in spite of the actual chilly Spring air, also the dampness has released a strong pungent fragrance (I use the word 'fragrance' loosely) which was somewhat titillating. Cycling up the railway trail I was thus able to notice the bird life without interference from dog walkers and kids falling off their bikes. Last year there was an abundance of robins shouting about their presence, now however they appear to have suffered from the bad weather, alone this chap happily posed for me as I irked him by passing through his territory. A bit dark but that was the only area he would stop. His eye is bright, not because of his cheeky personality but because of the flash. Finches cheerfully sang from the sun drenched branches up above, well out of camera range, and one particular bird announced his presence with a fabulous song unlike any I have so far heard. He managed to keep hidden in the branches however so I have no idea what he might be. Still, such things please my little mind.

Talking of big birds in the sky, I came upon a wonderful website that allows us to follow the track of airliners as they pass along the air routes, gathering volcanic ash and ensuring your luggage is delivered to Lisbon when you are arriving at Stansted!  Flight Radar 24 This is a fantastic way to follow aircraft and all intelligent males, and one or two wimmen, will find this fantastic fun! Especially useful if you live near an airfield or have long wispy vapour trails high above you. Nosey folks like this also!

If it's Springtime That Must Mean Cricket in England!

Whenever Spring shows through the rain clouds Englishmen will run for the 'white's,' grab a bat and head for the village green! Naturally this is not always easy in large conurbations but somehow there is always an area put aside for men of indeterminate age to waste a few hours throwing a ball at a bat playing cricket. As you are aware the English believe, wrongly, that they invented everything that exists, however when it comes to cricket most peoples will happily allow them to take the blame!  Since it sprang into being in the late seventeen hundreds it has become associated with the spread of the British Empire.(Stand to attention at the back! Salute the flag!) Now nations like India and the West Indian Islands play the game, and naturally they play it so much better than its inventors! Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka are places where the game has an almost religious status. For the poor of course a success at cricket can lead to an escape from a life of toil and sweat and some have become rich beyond their wildest dreams.The latest version of the game '20/20' now has a league in India which offers football player type profits. That appears popular with the players! Those nations with connections to the 'Old Country' also played the game successfully, Australia in particular, while New Zealand played it in between thumping everybody at rugby union. The Canadians tried it but found the ball often got lost in the twenty foot snowdrifts and instead took up Ice Hockey, a derivation of another English game. Being Canadian of course they decided on a version which was deemed pleasantly violent. There again few Canadians ever saw a girls school play hockey! St Trinians anyone?

To normal people, and Americans of course, the laws of cricket are confusing. Having myself idled watched the game via the box in the corner for many years I can assure you that it has a pleasant and enjoyable side. Ask me however where a 'Silly Mid Off' should stand or what the umpire, (that's he in the white coat with several pullovers around his head in the 70% heat) ask what he is doing waving his hand in that peculiar manner and I confess, like an English batsman, I'm stumped! By the way English cricket has improved greatly in recent years notably from the descendants of immigrants from the Indian sub Continent and elsewhere reaching test standard! Quite how the British National Party will cope with that I do not care to answer. 

Watching these chubby, sweating men roll up and throw (sorry, 'bowl') the ball at a gray haired man who's belly desired to break through the restricting belt, I was struck by how sociable the game was. Many of these lads have played enthusiastically for many years, often following in their father's footsteps, especially around here in a small town with lots of villages round about. Some cricket pitches possibly go back over two hundred years or more. Only 'Townies' moving form city to a quite life in the country would ever complain about a ball from such a pitch breaking their window! And would you believe some do! If the game is rained off the players can always socialise in the bar and if not the exercise of standing around in the sun for a few hours, occasionally chasing a ball, incidentally a very hard ball, and batting tsaid ball occasionally then running 22 yards between the wicket to the sound of a lacklustre applaud from a drowsy watcher must be good for them, physically and emotionally. Sociable, healthy exercise with little strain, and a game many play well into their fifties and beyond. Let's face it, we might play football into our thirties, but when we realise, at around eighteen, that we will never make the grade the joy of being kicked around is somewhat lessened. By forty few play football any more. Crickets leisurely pace enables enthusiasts to pull hamstrings and damage the Achilles right up to their pension.  Anyway some say, but whisper this quietly, that in spite of the confusing rules and endless arguments about 'moving feet,' and 'spinners,' and absurd scoring system, some say that this serious cricket business is actually fun!   

St George and His Day

Here we are once again 'celebrating' St Georges Day! I say 'celebrating' but possibly I mean 'ignoring' for the most part. Wandering around the streets paved with gold I saw only a couple of vehicles flying his flag. Possibly the stories revealing just how such flags increase your petrol consumption made folks wary in these financially troubled times, possibly, like most folks, they just didn't know what the day was all about! Low down the 'Daily Mail' today there was an item about the Ugandan born Archbishop of York flying his St Georges Flag and enjoying the 'Englishness' of it all. This has brought out many who agree with him, and others who reckon this reflects on why Englishmen are afraid to fly their own flag! Read the following comments! 


St George himself possibly existed, and may well have been a Roman soldier executed during a time of persecution, but there again I am not sure how the story began, read here and consider the options. What ever the case may be he did become patron saint for several nations and cities. It is possible that the idea of a 'patron saint' grew during the years when Christians were free to tour the Roman Empire visiting places where the famous were reputed to be buried. It is very easy for some, badly taught, to imagine that they could pray to such dead people.this of course is not biblical. However in the areas where the bible was not adhered to some did expect dead 'Saints' to answer prayer. Since the reformation few have actually believed in this in the north of Europe. This means that only Roman Catholic nations tend to adhere to such 'Saints' and the UK lost all interest in them many years ago. Today's nationalism has restored them, although not for religious reasons.


The rise of Scottish nationalism in the sixties, and the success found since then has resulted in English jealousy. The poorly taught history has left England with little understanding of what the 'United Kingdom' actually is, and hence allowed them to treat Scotland and Wales with indifference and contempt. Sadly when the Scots and Welsh objected and nationalists began to appear at Westminster there grew an English demand for 'Their own parliament!" Incredible! The parliament at Westminster has been the English parliament for many years, and remained  the 'English parliament' even after 1707! Yet these people do not realise this? Incredible! The history taught in schools, the use of the 'Union Flag' as 'England's flag,' the parliament always referring to 'England' when they meant to say 'Britain,' and the  media  coverage considering the same has evaded such people. Since they discovered in 1996 that England's flag was in fact the cross of St George a movement to encourage its use has arisen, for the wrong reasons. 


There is of course no reason whatsoever for Englishmen in England not to fly their own flag. Mistaking the Union flag for their own has meant a great many have failed to fly their St Georges flags, however there have always been church buildings, public houses, councils and individuals who have correctly flown England's flag. It is to be regretted that some city councils have indeed objected on occasion to the Union or English flag being flown as this has been regarded as 'racist!' How this can be is beyond me, yet such has, occasionally, been the case. In such circumstances, with the BNP, UKIP and the Tory media exaggerating the 'immigrant threat,' it is no wonder some have come to regard the indigenous 'white' populace as hard done by. In spite of the thousand year of English oppression against the Scots it is clear England has forgotten, or in truth, never actually known what it is to be 'English!'


It is to be much regretted that in 1707 England did not appreciate the power of the union. Instead of attempting to rename Scotland 'North Britain,' she could have emphasised the benefits brought by peaceful co-existence. However she quickly forgot and by 1914 it was common to refer to Great Britain as 'England' almost constantly. Churchill, a man famous for his mythological approach to British history, never appears to talk about 'England,' but refers to 'Great Britain' constantly, although I have not checked this out. And it is in the act of standing together and 'standing alone' against the Nazi threat in 1940 under a perceived threat of invasion that many Scots came to accept gladly the notion of being 'British!'  Had a regard for Wales and Scotland been found in England after this Scots nationalism would never have taken off and the Englishman's concern to discover what he and his nation actually comprises would not arise. There are a lot of things the English ought to be proud of, and much they need to regret. Flying their flag is not one of them!
    

Horses & Foals

Early this morning, before the sun had broken through the clouds, before the milkman had managed to finish his round and before some of my readers had managed to get into their beds I ambled up the old railway for my daily exercise. Quite why my daily canny do her own exercise is beyond me! Passing the early bird catching the worm, (her man must be going fishing,) inhaling the fragrance of early blossom, and giving audience to the chirping and chattering of finches and blackbirds I raced slowly up the gradient. Quite how those steam trains managed that climb in the old days I canny imagine! Leaving before dawn meant I had managed to avoid those commuters who walked their dogs (cheerily I'm sure) before rushing of to catch the train for London and the huge salaries on offer there. This left the trail empty bar the wildlife. Down either side of the embankment it was possible to see, thanks to the hard work of the volunteers clearing the vegetation, the abandoned motor bikes, occasional wheelbarrow, road barriers and masses of empty beer cans left by the adolescents as they endured their 'growing pains!'


Near the top of the gradient, a little bit on from the rabbit holes, there is a farmer who keeps some horses in his field. As my delightful (a word her parents never use) great niece loves horses, and has her own (hired) pony, I thought I would attempt to photograph these beasts. I noticed them yesterday, three mares with their foals happily chomping the grass, and as I passed the farmer was releasing a stallion and another mare plus foal from a lorry. The big black stallion looked a beautiful beast as he scampered around the field, rejoicing in his freedom from the horse box. Naturally as I stood there this morning camera in hand, the lot of them moved, head down, to the far side of the field! They do it for spite you know. Eventually this one pictured wandered over, awaiting some attention (she is female) and while we chatted I took the pic. Her little one was less keen and constantly showed her rear end to the camera while chewing grass and trying to avoid falling flat on her face while breakfasting. She did turn round in the end, but the big black proud  stallion remained at the far side, snootily avoiding me.  

These foals are very young and this one was still suckling away at mum. Not that mum was too keen at the time! Watching the stallion I was reminded of those times I left the night shift at seven and wandered through Hyde Park as the sun rose. While the ice began to melt on the Serpentine and the ducks began to swim around the freezing water I would head along 'Rotten Row' and watch the early horse riders pass by. There is  a stables in a local mews and several ponies were always found trotting along, their riders bouncing up and down in a manner never seen in any cowboy movie. However with the Household Cavalry being based on the far side of the park it was possible to find an officer, the men would have been too busy working, gallop along on his charger. This was a sight worth seeing as he raced along the empty 'Row,' a magnificent sight!

  
I was listening to a programme on Radio 4 about 'Fu Manchu' the fictional Chinese arch criminal from the early 20th century. The narrator was trying to establish Manchu's links with Edinburgh University, and throughout the programme I had to keep reminding myself that what they were talking about was a fictional character! Why is it that story books, and this is all a novel actually is, why is it that story book characters are treated as if they actually live! We know that Sherlock Holmes for instance, still gets letters from various places asking for his help in finding lost uncles and solving criminal mysteries, and here the narrator was regarding Fu's criminal career as if he existed! Why? What is it about characters from books that make people act as if they were alive? 


On that point, why are 'novels,' considered so important? Suggest to an author that his novel is merely a story book and they will treat you as an attack of lice! Yet a novel is a world that exists solely inside the head of the writer, and will serve the authors purpose, whether he claims otherwise or not. Such 'artists' always like to believe their books will change the world. Yet so many of them end up in remainder bookshops, so what do they really say? What is their purpose? If you want to change the world will novel writing really do this? Disraeli used 'Sybil' to do just this, but few others succeed. Would it not be true to say that an author, especially one loved by the 'chattering classes' will be writing that which will enhance his reputation, annoy 'his crowds' detractors, and walk around loved by his 'world.' Pride, wealth and fame mean more to some than actually changing the world.If you wish to write because you like the idea, or have thought of stories to publish go ahead and enjoy it. This way you might indeed alter one part of the world around you! Just be aware that the book is a story, an art, but you are the one to change the world, not a tale. Maybe writing a blog has more effect on the world around? What's that you said?