The Blues

This is Soub's fault!

He offered Sonny Boy Williamson the other day and I have been listening to the Blues ever since!  I am so lucky that this was the music that influenced my generation so much.  The Beatles, based in Liverpool, had family and friends who worked as stewards and the like on liners taking the rich back and forth across the Atlantic.  These brought back Jazz, Blues, and Rock & Roll records which influenced the youth learning to play their music.  Picked up from Radio Luxembourg, once upon a time the only way to hear decent pop music, similar types in the rest of the country wanted more!  Muddy Waters, John Lee Hooker and others influenced so many people in Britain while being almost unknown to the major Radio & Tv stations in the US.  Their sin was to be black and play music not acceptable to the genteel white folks who controlled America.  

Young Americans however were listening also.  Up in Duluth Bob Dylan, then known as Zimmerman, was annoying folks with music influenced by what he had heard, a great many others were like him.  The arrival of the Beatles allowed them to develop their music as an audience was ready and waiting for them.  

Today black Americans (now called Afro-Americans) prefer to ignore Blues music and for reasons no sane person sould possibly understand they find life through Rap!  A type of music that misses out the appropriately placed letter 'C.'  Shame on them!

How I wish I could play guitar like these guys could.  Max found one man who could play like they!

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Early Morn Bike

You will of course be delighted to hear that just after seven this morning I jumped - carefully - onto the bike and whizzed slowly around the streets.  The weather was quite gentle for a change, the sun almost shone and as I honed my bulk I found myself enjoying the strange experience of physical effort once again.  The weather, feeling poorly, and laziness being too busy has meant I have hardly been near the bike all year.  Once the cycling stops it is not easy to get back into it especially when the weather is lousy as it has been all year.  Leaving the bike I limped around the town watching the smiling people head for their workplaces.  How I envied them, but then I was just glad to get home and call the Thai Takeaway Curry House & massage people round to massage my knees for me.  Tonight I ache all over!  I suppose this means I am not fit and healthy?

Did you realise that there are more plastic surgeons keeping people beautiful in Brazil than anywhere else?  I would have thought the US would have more but Brazilians are the ones desperate to remain young all their lives, at least those who are rich at any rate.  The poor, and there are many in Brazil, have to exercise, preferably on the beach where the beautiful people show themselves to the world.  Something about all this does not attract me.  The desperate having their face lifted often look worse afterwards, regular ageing and making the best of themselves makes people look better than any surgeon can manage.   Of course some have real reason to go under the knife but the faces filling the media are always broken people looking to be loved or just for attention.  Me myself have retained my handsome feature through living a good life and being naturally Adonis like.  What? ........Oh!

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Another Monday Starts the Week

Such a lovely, and irrelevant, picture this.  I should indicate I did not take this photograph in case you wondered.  It's pre Great War but not sure when.  I post it as I have taken no new pics, have no desire to rant tonight, and as usual nothing worth saying.  I spent much of the day attempting to fill out the Heart of Midlothian & the Great War site, the replacement for the site that died when the free Yahoo sites died.  It has taken years of sloth to finally do something (free) about this.  The trouble is the research takes so much time.  While I have much of the material further searches involves lots of Google work.  Hundreds of sites to look at and most repeat what they took from my old site anyway!  Bah!

The news is dominated by a storm in the US, but nothing will be said in the US when the remnants of 'Sandy' hit the west coast of Scotland in a few days time I suppose.  The other news remains the media fascination with Jimmy Saville.  This man was known to be a problem for years but nothing was done.  The problem as Jim Davidson indicates was that so many perverts are in the entertainment business.  It is full of broken people hiding behind the image and a Saville and will find friends and be free to indulge themselves unhindered.  Some had too much to lose, and no business will expose its own failures in this.  Personally I am uninterested, especially as the papers have dozens of stories to tell, many are jumping on the bandwagon, and if money is to be paid out I suspect others will appear with invented sob stories.  The less well known perverts will continue to hide in big companies, and if discovered silently moved out.

My tired brain is too knackered to bother unless something really important shows up, the many Nigerian Princes contacting me to offer millions don't count, the usual crop of murder, rape, lies and half truths are just a pain tonight.  The TV is full of pap, the radio also, nothing remotely interesting or humerous.  Maybe it's the cold weather?  I am freezing below my aged ex-army blankets, and I have attempted to keep warm by drinking expensive brandy but the supermarket man threw me out sadly.  There is nothing for it but an early night and hopefully an interesting dream.  Last night I dreampt I was talking to someone in the hallway while cars drove past us.  Quite why I have no idea but there you are.

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Just For You....

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It Suddenly Struck Me....

That I was surrounded by Autumn at its best!  Wandering through the Gardens I had to stop and stare at the world in front of me.  It was marvellous!  The colours, the leaves, bushes, tended beds, they all were just wonderful to look at this afternoon.  The picture cannot convey what I saw, nor my anxiety that someone would walk round the corner and watch me staring, you know how women get hysterical at such things.  However I really enjoyed these few minutes.  I am not sure if this was caused just by watching creation around me or whether I had been spending too much time indoors, or maybe relief the mists had cleared away, however I didn't waste time asking, I just enjoyed.

It could be that having helped out at the museum yesterday when the school kids were around I was still suffering from that.  They come into the Victorian classroom and find out what 1862 teaching was like.  They are then allowed to spend £3 in the shop on suitable and appropriate gifts.  I was only there to help out and it was enjoyable but when the shop has six or eight kids in, under a teachers control, it can easily give the impression there are three thousand of them, each accompanied by a wilderbeast!  Watching themselves wave to themselves when they found they were on CCTV was hilarious.  I am not sure how I would cope with thirty or so kids at one time.  Victorian cane or Lochgelly Tawse would be much used I reckon.

This was going to be a deeply thought out serious post but then I thought, "Forget it," and I'm watching the football instead.....


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Autumn ('Fall,' to you) Mists

Makes no difference to the dog here.  The nation is hidden beneath a deep, darkening mist and as you promenade along the tiny droplets settle and leave you fair drookit by the time home is reached.  The dog however insists he takes him out, favourite ball and all, and allows him to run around for an hour or so, visiting the same spots he met yesterday to check for strangers on his patch.  Dogs you see are mutts, they need you to do everything for them.  You take them for walks, you feed them, you clean them, you ensure they have a good bed at night.  Cats however do all of this by themselves, and do not venture out on days like this unless there is very good reason to do so.  Cats walk by themselves, cats clan themselves, then sit on you, cats find their own beds, and if they cannot find a mug to live off cats are more than capable of feeding themselves also.  They just prefer to have whatever you are having, and they want it now!    

Dogs also get confused easily.  This one was struggling to decide between picking up the ball or eating a stick when I came on the scene.  Here he is just sniffing out a friend.  

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Autumn Leaves

The sight of a park bench covered and surrounded by a mass of bright fallen leaves brings to mind the days past when such a sight annoyed me.  That was at the Maida Vale Hospital where several trees lay at the front of the building, and a couple more in the rear.  This meant muggins and mates would have to sweep the blessed things up day after day.  However as I passed this lot I could not resist a picture, which is not as bright as in real life, and chortled at the man who has to sweep this up.  I'd love to help but.....

I bet this great man refers to Autumn with the rather direct term 'fall.'  No doubt with people like Max & Jerry in mind the American language long ago chose an unsophisticated route (pronounced 'root') rather than the more complicated English language.  By 'English'  I refer to what is called 'The Queens English,' that is the language as spoke proper like by Liz.  As you know I personally speak ''Lallans,' which while similar to 'English' English developed amongst the lowlands of Scotland many years ago, and is not English in any manner whatsoever, it also sounds better when spoke than that found over the border.  "Know whit ah mean pal?'  For some reason this crossed my mind while watching QPR play Everton on a dismal Sunday afternoon, although the cause of this now escapes me.  Language is merely communication, yet for some exactness is imperative, but who really knows what is right here?  Language is a flowing changing thing and what is correct today is not correct tomorrow.  At school we were told never begin a sentence with 'And.'  Today this is acceptable.  But is it right?  Football has its own language, terms used there may sneak into everyday use, and all society is similar.  Business, sport, politics, churches all have words that belong to them alone, and people use them, often like sheep.  This helps those involved understand what is meant but can be a barrier to those outside the 'in people.' The language I speak (the correct one, as Mike will agree) is very different spoken by Max and Jerry (Unintelligible I suspect in real life).  RDG & Soub must spend time translating one another before they begin to argue, and those with experience of Australia would understand that out there the only clear word is 'Beer!'  I think I might attempt to learn Latin (again).

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Washed Out

Rain during the night, rain during the day, rain during the night expected. 

I stayed in.

Nothing else happened.

I made Mince.

I couldn't find any TV/Radio/books/papers worth listening to/watching/reading.

I got little mail, fast or slow.

I await Dundee v Inverness Caledonian Thistle tonight.

I ate dates.

My life is one long line of excitement, day after day.

Tomorrow I might.....but there again might not.....but might anyway....

We'll see.

Canny wait.

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Routine Ruined

Since Monday life has been busy!  My routine was disturbed immediately by the laptop having hiccups and forcing me to spend time sorting that out.  Thereafter I began to enjoy the day, filling out the day with things left undone, and sorting the TV.  Tuesday, as I began the joyful day attending to one of my war websites, was interrupted by a call to fill in at the museum.  This I gladly did, as I am really nice.  Having failed to complete that task and breaking the tools involved I came home again.  Before I left I was sweet talked into returning for an hour on Wednesday afternoon.  This I did as I am still nice.  However the websites still awaited, and nought was done.  I managed some stuff but by now my routine was gone, I am due three afternoon naps by now, and today, when I ought to be asleep or finishing the outstanding works I find I just canny be bothered.  So I watched 'Time Team' on telly and made a tasteless mince instead.

Much time has been spent watching the BBC Parliament Channel these past couple of days, which has also interrupted the routine.  Not just the showpiece 'Prime Ministers Question Time,' which is indeed all show and nonsense, but the other debates, often in a quiet chamber, which show our elected representatives discussing sensibly the point at issue.  While it is often ignored by the government in the end we can see thoughtful opinions expressed on a range of issues, freely and sometimes to good effect.  On occasion this has been boring as technical points are discussed which only 'experts' can understand, on occasion extremely funny as serious points are made amid much banter across the floor.  Some are experts at rhetoric, some dull, some worldly wise.  I forgot how interesting it can be, and the long established routine of the House of ages past still followed.  The doors are locked when the result of a division is announced, and opened only when that is put through.  The four tellers bowing their heads, and possibly feeling self important, and the doors unlocked and life continues.  The committees can also be seen as well as the more sedate but no less wise House of Lords.  In spite of the ages there are some canny folk sitting there.

You will have noted, and read HERE that Scotland's referendum re remaining tied down by England has been announced.  In late 1914, the anniversary of Bannockburn, the Scots will vote for independence and stop carrying the imperialist English for the first time since 1707.  You will have rejoiced at this news I know.

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Another World Cup Fiasco

Four games out of ten played and we are out already!  I remember the time when Scotland always qualified for tournaments and then got knocked out by a lucky goal from one of the big boys.   England usually struggling against small teams to qualify, and not always making it. Now we don't get to the finals!  Tonight a very strong Belgian side, the best for a long while, removed the last chance we had.  Once more we gurn and bear it!  Once more the press stick their knives in the manager (and he probably ought to go now) once more the media line up one of their friends for the job, Walter & Alec look most likely I'd say.  Once more our stock sinks in the world, once more we wear our favourite frowns.  Wodhouse got his comment "It has never been hard to tell the difference between a Scotsman with a grievance and a ray of sunshine." from listening to Scotsmen after a football match I'm sure. There are few rays of sunshine here tonight.
Still, worse things happen at sea, don't they? 

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I wasn't Going to, But I Did!

You see I rarely watch television.  I watch the football, 'Eggheads' and the News, plus occasional other programmes.  I watch these through the laptop now as the old TV died when analogue went out.  Actually I had Freeview on another TV for a while but destroyed this by turning it on via the plug, and as it was switched on it blew!  It takes up more space catching dust. Technology does not become me. However as I looked around the neatly laid out living quarters (I have recently rearranged everything) I suddenly felt a TV would be a good idea after all.  Now I am reluctant to spend money, especially as there is so little available, however I have a couple of bob to spend at the moment to replace the worn out and dead items that have accumulated over recent times.  So when I walked in the freezing sun this afternoon I suddenly decided to pop into Tesco and see if one of their suitable TV's were reduced.  Glory be they were!  So I went for it and now have 75 channels of pap on call.  Well actually a few are channels you pay for, so I will not be having them, and one or two are the dubious late night ones which are long past my cocoa.  Strangely enough I am enjoying watching an aged edition of 'Time Team' in somewhat too brilliant colour.  This is typical of my life, what others take for granted I am able to enjoy as a new experience as it is yonks since I actually had a TV on call.  Of coourse there is a problem, there always is I find, I only have an inside aerial.  This means that, being digital, almost every time a car passes the picture shakes.  This will always happen when football is on!  

Now if some one will pay me £50 a month I will add the football!  

Hello?  Hello?  Where is everyone....? 

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Political Thoughts

Daily Telegraph

Happy Birthday Maggie!
Happy Birthday from the millions you threw out of work.
Happy Birthday from the folk who lost their jobs as your friends pocketed fat profits.
Happy Birthday from the mental who died on the streets under 'Community Care.'
Happy Birthday from the needless dead in the Falklands.
Happy Birthday from the disabled who had benefits cut.
Happy Birthday from those who lost their houses under your policies.

Have a nice day won't you.  

The Conservative Party, the Party that does not change its spots, whatever they say!  
Note how that nice Mr Romney considers this woman a roll model! 
Be afrain America, be very afraid!


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Five Rules

FIVE RULES TO REMEMBER IN LIFE 

1. Money cannot buy happiness, but it’s more comfortable to cry in a Rolls than on a bicycle.
2. Forgive your enemy, but remember the ass-hole’s name.
3. If you help someone when they're in trouble, they will remember you when they're in  trouble again.
4. Many people are alive only because it’s illegal to shoot them.
5. Alcohol does not solve any problems, but then neither does milk.


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Ancient Figures

This handsome chap was dug up in the middle of town during reconstruction works some years ago.  At first it was thought to be just a bit of Bronze but cleaning revealed a horse and rider.  It is likely our cavalryman held a spear in his right hand and possibly represents some God or other.  They say it is unusual in that usually cavalrymen were dressed in armour, this man appears naked.  Soldier or God I wonder.  It sits in one of the museums renovated cases alongside a small child and a head.

I am not clear as to what these represent but I am not likely to want that head sitting on my mantelpiece any time soon.  I am fascinated by the items that have been found in the ground from days of long ago.  These will be Roman (ish) as they say Celts did not have figurines of any type before the Roman invasion.  Plenty of convoluted patters but no figures it appears.  This fact had not struck me and reminded me of how little I know.  

   

Sadly I did not take the time to ensure the image was clear.  It was not easy in that light to picture the items through the glass, as you can see!  Also I have enlarged the picture so that does not help.  What thinkest thou of this lass?  I had no intention of going to the Museum this morning but when the phone rang at five minutes past nine I knew who was on the other end!  To me the position of 'dogsbody,' on call as it were to fill gaps, is better than a regular spot at the moment.  It does mean that my day is altered if the phone rings!  It was enjoyable today however, and these figures fascinated me when I saw them again.  Consider the folks who lost them, their homes, around 2000 years ago, their society and position within it.  The homes, few rreaching into the sky like ours do today.  The difficulty of getting water daily, the constant milling of grain and the smell of bread baking daily, the view over open fields and the sky always above us, not hidden behind vapour trails.  The silence, no music bar that made by individuals, not deep base thumping from passing cars.  Animals running loose, walking everywhere unless very rich, the day filled with tasks technology makes easy for us.  

I wonder if we or they are more stressed by our lives?   

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Monday Muse

George Osborne the Chancellor of the Exchequer gave his speech today at the Conservative Party Conference and earned 'luke war applause,'  according to one Rosa Prince, the Telegraph 'Online Political Editor,' whatever that is!  "What did he say?" I hear you ask.  I neither know nor care.  In fact whatever was to follow here is now rapidly going the same way I did while listening to said Chancellor lying in his teeth discussing his policies on the 'Today' programme this morning.  I switched off then, I think I will do so now.  Suffice to say his friends will be OK, and the 'plebs' will carry the can, they always do.

This is a painting by one Mark Rothko, a famous, important, abstract painter whom you have never heard off until now.  This 'work of art' was 'vandalised' by a chap who added a postcript at the bottom.  What surprised me concerning this news was the price, this 'art work' is valued at £10 million!  "Jings! Crivvens! And Help ma Boab!"  I used to do abstract art at school but at no time did the art teacher put down the geography teacher from next door long enough to inform me that my 'work' was worth 'millions.'  He did place one on the lobby wall certainly but I am unsure whether he sent it to a gallery after I left or used it as dart board.  I can guess....  The art world, and indeed the fashion world, are one big con!  An understanding and appreciation of art is not required, just lots of money if you wish to be seen buying the 'right thing,' and a huge determination to be seen and find fame and fortune if you are an 'artist.  Talent is not required.

I attempted the Carrot Cake today and I am mightily surprised by the result.  It may never sell in the local national bakers but it will be good enough for me.  Quite why she calls these carrot cookies I fail to comprehend.  The Yanks were still playing baseball in 1940 while Britain 'stood alone' as the cheese eating surrender monkeys did what they do best.  I am quite pleased with myself now.  Tomorrow it's Bannocks!

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Now I'm Not One to Complain, But....

After expostulating on the deficiencies of YODEL's version of service I yesterday I put myself into sleep mode by watching Inverness playing their local rivals Ross County in the first 'Highland SPL Derby.'  Most enjoyable indeed, and watching people playing football while freezing cold rain comes straight down is indeed enjoyable, when I am lying in my warm bed at the time.  Thus relaxed I slept,  fitfully as my dreams interrupted by 'white van man' passing the door and visions of my phone being used by others.  Today however I returned to important matters, Tesco first for the things forgotten yesterday, then market for the fruit to keep me healthy and young looking, (What's that you said?) and turning on the laptop to watch the Saturday football.  Could life get better than this I ask?  Three games on the trot to watch today wooppee, but at 2:45 my enjoyment was disturbed by a rapping at the door.  Not being one who likes 'Rap' I hastened to the door with an appropriate shotgun.  A woman stood there, with a box, (a woman who used to work Saturday's only for Royal Mail) stood there, holding a box!  My phone had arrived!!!  Somewhat irritated she was too, the address failed to contain the flat number and she had rapped at the door downstairs unheard by me as I was watching the football.  That made no difference as the bell is broke anyway but she left me the box and shuffled off grumpily to complete her other deliveries.  She did not recognise me which surprised me, women usually do! 

So while Wigan Athletic worked over Everton I opened the box, studied the paperwork, and managed to set up and charge the phone.  By the time Arsenal had put West ham to the sword I was studying the paperwork and asking "What....?" quite a lot.  You must understand the old phone goes back about a dozen years, and in those far off days, when life was better, then sending a text was exotic!  This one makes no sense to me in any way, yet I can send emails, use facebook and run up bills.  Fantastic!  In about six months time I might have worked out how to make a call, whether I know how to do anything else, such as work the radio, find the camera, or whatever is as yet unclear.  

I suppose being able to store all those numbers means I will have to find some friends now ......

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Bloody Annoyed!

The mobile phone I never use is dead.

I decide to order a new cheap one.  It is useful to have such for emergencies.  

I go back to Virgin Mobile for a cheap one.  I buy it online.

This means cost increased by rip of delivery charge of almost £8. However it will be delivered between 7 - 9 am next morning.

Next morning, I wait.

I wait, I wait, I jump up frequently as the bloke working next door keeps returning to his van for items and giving the impression he is a delivery van.  If he wasn't so big I would tell him what I think.

I wait and wait.  I wait.

After a while I check the delivery notice e-mails again. This time noting a 'track goods' link.  This I check.  It transpires the delivery is not coming via one of the many courier companies with depots in the local area and drivers who known their way around.  Oh no, Virgin send goods via a company based in Cambridge, 50 miles away!!!  Not only the distance, this is YODEL, a badly named company with an atrocious record regarding delivery.  Deliver before 9?  According to the read out he only picked the thing up at 7:44.  

Grrrrrr!

Encouraged by an unsmiling UPS man delivering next door just after 3 pm I held off phoning in.  I had checked the tracking site and noticed a change.  The parcel was now 'with the courier for delivery.'  "He's off home," thought I.  He is now heading for Cambridge and a Friday night pub brawl.  My mood darkened, although outsiders may not have noticed this as I had already began to spit blood.  

After 4 I called in.

"Choose 1 for....." began. 

"Choose ... enter... " wait.

It takes me back to where I was and "Choose 1...."

Having slammed the phone down I thought I would call Virgin themselves.

"Choose..."

I slammed the phone down.

I waited and tried again when in a better mood.

"Choose...." I chose, I waited, I chose, I waited, I endured bloody awful music, I waited, I waited, I slammed the phone down.

I tried Virgin again.......SLAM!!!!

I emailed.

I made a point or two, I made a demand or two, I asked a question or two.

It was late, I got no reply, I expect no parcel tomorrow, I expect a call with words possibly tomorrow, although being Saturday they may not be available, and I expect them to be told where to shove it and give back the cash!  

I fail to understand what is wrong with me these days.  I get so annoyed so easily.  Life improves on one hand and things fall apart on the other.  I am just glad I don't live in a gun toting society.

I may have used one today.

p.s. Just after 10 pm I again look at the tracking to discover the driver 'could not locate.'  He could not locate a road paved by the Romans and in constant use ever since?  Lazy good for nothing!

Right that's that.  let's see something funny for Friday.

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NHS Death Announced

Daily Mail

Jeremy Hunt, the Health Secretary, a man who's name was famously mispronounced by James Naughtie on the 'Today' programme a while back, has announced the death of the NHS.  Speaking in an interview with the 'Spectator' he has made it clear that while the NHS budget is 'ringfenced' up to 1915 after that the budget may have to be slashed!

This comes as no surprise to me, or indeed the majority of the nation.  The Conservative Party have never liked the NHS.  The Conservative Party do not like anything they think costs them money.  The Conservative Party and their friends the 'Tea Party,' together comprise the greediest, selfish people known to mankind.  The idea of paying tax towards the greatest health service known to man is beyond their capabilities, until of course they require its help.  Then the GP is demanded to be on call when they wish him to be there, even if their problem is minor.  The thought of waiting in line is beneath such people, self importance comes first.  The idea of sharing the cost between the nation, enabling all to have a first class service at all times, even though there may be a wait, is beyond them.  The idea that someone somewhere is getting medical care from their taxes, tax they could spend on themselves, hurts them deeply.  Therefore Hunt can make such statements happily knowing that a vast number of (well off) people will vote Conservative at the next election, even if they think Cameron and Hunt are not up to the job.  Money in the hand gets their vote every time!

The NHS is expensive.  Well over a hundred billion a year.  Put that against the lives saved, pains eased, disease and disabilities overcome as much as possible, teeth and eyes attended to, and then fuss about a few pence a week tax.  The Conservative Party wish us to introduce the American insurance style system, Thatcher the milk snatcher was all for this during the days she threw the mentally ill out of the hospitals and onto the streets.  That saved cash by placing them 'in the community,' a community that saw them die in cardboard boxes!  Still, it saved cash.  Hunt is here offering the Tory view, a view that is growing amongst many such, that cutting cash to the NHS is good for the taxpayer and will not affect the service.  This week it must be added saw around 20 accident and emergency clinics close down or are planned to close.  Be happy about travelling 15 -50 miles for emergency treatment, if an ambulance can find you in the first place, and hopefully don't die on the way.  This would of course save the NHS money if you did however.   

So Hunt lives up to his scrambled name as the Tories begin the long. long haul to the next election.  The clarity is good however, we now know that the far right will make an effort to take control, and we know what that did for them last time don't we!  Goodbye Jeremy, I hope your new job will be more successful than any you have had recently.

Wednesday Emptiness

Nothing happened.

I shopped.
i didn't find bargains.

I cooked my stew.
I ate some.
I am still alive.

I attempted to fix the ageing stereo.
I ate lots of dust because of this.
Tomorrow I look for a new one.

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Monday Ramblings

With autumn settling in, the leaves beginning to brown and the rain making it's presence felt I thought a picture of blue sky was called for.  I took this snap on Saturday when two ancient aircraft flew over the cemetery.  They must have been heading for a show somewhere, there are still several airports within a twenty mile radius. Sadly my little camera is not capable of reaching them 2000 feet up. In the cemetery I was once again looking for Serjeant Smoothy.  I called to him several times, I suggested he raised his hand so I could see him, but no answer was the reply.  I suppose being dead since 1919 slows down the responses. 

Mine we slow when I sauntered round to the museum early to dismantle the 'Essex in Sport' exhibition, or whatever it was called.  A display commemorating all the sporting greats from the county.  This included a visit from Jimmy Greaves, a genuinely good footballer and England great.  Not from from us resides Geoff Hurst though whom England stole the World cup, for the second time, by not scoring three goals in the 1966 world cup final.  The ball never crossed that line!  Not that I am one to mention this however.  The work only took a short time, less than an hour and my contribution was complete and I was flung back out onto the street.  However being so unfit I feel the effects even now.  How easily muscle goes stiff!  

Bored?  So am I.  Nothing to write about, no rants apart from the usual,nothing sensational to lay before the world.   My brain has been dead for a few days and no original thought crosses my mind just now.  Although the 'date cakes' I made from the World War Two recipes were excellent!  And I rarely say that about anything I make.  Try it!  I should say my weight is increasing, possibly I've had too much of the Date Cake.  Anyway, Carrott cake tomorrow. 

OK, yawn with your mouth closed, I'm off to watch the football, and fall asleep.

p.s. So you don't like Bill Evans jazz music eh?  Phillistines Pah!

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