Sunday Surmise

It has been difficult to see what is happening in the world when trapped behind a laptop.  I found several urgent messages on facebook and Twitter telling me to listen/watch/read/do a variety of activities hours after they had passed by.  The sun shone brightly for two very hot days and much as I wished to enjoy being burnt I missed it and sat in the gloom inside instead.  Today a normal British summer has arrived, cloud, rain and warmth making everyone sweaty and still daft men walk around in T-shirt & shorts expecting the sun to arrive.  These English know nothing!

 

A big fuss has been made by the media re the latest Islamic Killer.  Many Brits dead and lots wounded.  A somewhat difficult situation to face I would say.  The media enjoy this sort of thing, lots of pictures of crying women, dead bodies and people covered in blood.  They care not a whit about them of course but it is a good story.  Terrible indeed as this act is, let's not forget the man beheaded in France also, but in the great scheme of Islamic murders this is quite small really.  If however it endangers 'US' then it is awful.

Almost daily we see such events, low down in the papers if mentioned at all, occurring in Pakistan, Iraq and elsewhere.  The 'outrage' that arises each time is great yet no-one bothers about the people who suffer similarly elsewhere, that is after all their problem!   Thousands die each year in Pakistan because of a failure of leadership and political intrigues.  I wonder where the weapons come from?  ISIS, or is it ISIL this week?   IS still behead spies, throw gays off roofs and abuse sex slaves by the hundred daily.  I wonder if this could be related in any way to the attacks on Saddam Hussein a  wee while back?  Could it be the west (yes Messrs Bush and Blair I mean you!) sending troops into Iraq, sacking the army & police, rushing out again after killing thousands have some responsibility for leaving a failed state with no security and three major sectarian divides to fight over?  Just asking like.

The Muslim mentality is to kill opponents and claim Koranic justification (though how ISIL can do this beats me) and therefore justify themselves.  It can be no surprise that those not sharp enough may understand that their duty is to kill also and therefore such easily led people will commit atrocities.  Not all are stupid mind, many are clever people who wish to 'do the right thing' and fall for 'radical' teachings.  Truthfully we were all the same when younger but from a different angle.  Just give thanks you were not brought up Muslim, you might be that chap with a gun, the dead chap as he now is.

   

I have asked in several places why people think sticking your willie up a man's arse makes you proud?  Can shoving a willie up a man's backside be 'love?'  What next, marrying sheep?  
This is not love.

A quick glance at the media tells me the Greeks are once again at the 'eleventh hour,' the 'Last Chance Saloon,' the 'Final Decision,' once again.  That has been the case for a year or two now as far as I can see.  This does not surprise me as the majority of the rich did not pay tax, their cash is all in Swiss banks and they care nothing for the nation (are they members of the Conservative Party I wonder?) and the rest of the nation have little to do but overcharge tourists and riot at football matches.  Greek recent history has been much troubled, wars, political strife and now this.  Classical Greece, much lauded in the west, spent much of their time killing one another and abusing slaves and little boys.  Our democracy was built on this they say but I suggest Smith and Janner may have gone too far with that.  What will the outcome be?  Certainly David Cameron will not take any blame but he will pontificate about it. 

Scottish football once again is pondering the idea of a 'Winter break' or indeed 'Summer football.'
Both ideas are daft.  For one the winter break may not coincide with the worst weather, which often arrives in February or April!  For another the restart often hinders teams getting back into form.  The idea of summer football keeps cropping up from folks who think playing in heat is a good idea.  Sadly as we had summer weather for two days this week and now it has rained on and off all day I wonder if such folks ever look out of their window?  My mother grumbled about the bad summer weather every year and I had to remind her she had seen well over 90 of such summers and still failed to realise that it it was always like this!  Keep Scottish football where it is, just rearrange the league set-up into something more appropriate and all will improve.


Now I'm back off to 1942.

Fraught Friday

I awoke this morning, this was a bit of a surprise to me.  I was somewhere else when I realised I was struggling to hold onto the ebbing dream that was preferable to the voice on the radio.  That voice was bringing the real world to me when I wanted whatever the dream, whatever that was all about. I canny mind what it concerned but the voice droning on about England's football team made me reach for the button and head to a more sensible voice.  
The dawn had come up like thunder, the sun was shining brightly and I took this picture as the clouds began to turn sunlight into night once again.  I confess it was a wee bit lighter than the picture shows.  Sun, sunlight, bright, not words heard about here very often.  Hot sunshine yesterday, very warm and 'close' today.  This canny go on, and it won't.

I have spent the day in WW2.  I had to reread, rewrite, rethink, and rewrite again and again and it is still not write right.  If I was hearing Vera Lynn singing one minute I was hearing  Heinkel Bombers passing over the next.  Interesting note from one young man who found himself on the roof of a bombed building.  The ladder had been moved, there were too few to go around, and as he worked on the repair from the previous night another bomber arrived, flying low in his direction.  Just imagine his thoughts as he watched this helplessly?  As it was it passed by and bombed harmlessly a garden further up.  His laundryman would have been busy I suspect.
So I have struggled through to 1942, not exactly finished with the previous years either, and now the bloody Yanks are pouring into the country!  "Got any gum chum" will be the cry for several years and not just from children!  Airfields are getting erected and soon dirty big aircraft will be either noisily heading for the east or on occasion failing to take off and crashing to earth.  A common enough happening but not spoken off during wartime.  The German Messerschmidt 109 killed more men in training than were ever lost in action.  
Nothing else has been done because of this.  I must have it ready by last Tuesday so I have not bothered with hoovering, cleaning or washing.  I think people might be beginning to notice.  There again the football does not begin to start until next week so I have got some time before then.  I might even finish this....

The 'land of the free' has decided by 5 to 4 that gay marriage is acceptable in law.  Quite how that works, nine unelected people deciding for a nation in which leadership is stopped by President or Congress vetoing one another fails to impress me.  Something clearly wrong, something that goes against common sense as well as the will of the God who created us being declared acceptable reveals the depth to which the west has sunk.
There is no equality here, marriage is only between one man and one woman committed for life, like it or not, and we know how hard that can be.  Pretending something is acceptable when it is not will only hurt those involved.  Truth sets us free, it is far from easy, but truth reaches the centre of our being and obeying truth brings life.  Jesus came to set us free from that which hinders life.  These decisions obstruct this.
The next step will be the attack on churches that rightly refuse.  The power of the gay mob has been quiet recently but soon it will dominate and persecute openly the Christian church.  Satanic inspired hate will fill the hearts of many, understanding dimmed and open persecution is round the corner.
Sadly, so is judgement from a higher court.  


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92 of them, plus...!

92 of them plus teachers arrived this morning.  Well behaved kids with several teachers and other who soon flocked into the shop.  These were joined by a group of people who today are referred to as having 'learning difficulties.' A stupid term when they mean, 'backward,' or 'mentally deficient.'  The thing today is to give a fancy name and pretend that makes it better rather than just look after them.  They are a type of group who often arrive with several excellent helpers.  Both they and the kids mixed well.  However this did not allow me much time to write as I was back and forward here and there when I should have been sat sitting in one place.  
When they moved into the shop the two thousand kids bought things and we were there well into the afternoon with them.  Almost at the last I managed to escape having written nothing and now canny walk right because of all the standing, running, walking I did.  I need a massage.  
All this when others were visiting, enquiring, asking questions and fixing the boilers.
I suspect the ten thousand wildebeest are happy at home explaining the Victorian life to their families and showing off their new possessions.  At least those not lost/broke/eaten/nicked.
Now I am free - until noon tomorrow. I may have to help when someone else is off.
When can I write...?
I'm knackered.

An Easy Life, Unless it Aint...

Bright and early this morning I awoke to the mellifluous sound of the Shipping Forecast.  Naturally I went back to sleep!  Later I entered the museum to a warm welcome, clearly somebody wanted something!  The day started at speed, a woman booking places for her child while the phone rang.  My colleague dealt with the attractive young mum while I very efficiently made a complete hash of the telephone system.  It went downhill from there on.  Had my young friend not turned up today I am not sure what mess would have been left.  Everything I touched went wrong.  Nothing new there you say.

At lunchtime when I head for home I realised the school party who had come dressed appropriately for 'Stone Age Man' lessons had not as yet come through the shop.  In fact they were fantastically well dressed, including one or two home made spears, a beard and an imitation Tarzan or two.  Brilliantly done up as always.  There were 45 of them supposedly so I willingly, because she said I was willing, offered to help.  This offer was easy to make as she had the large pair of scissors in her hand.

Before the two thousand kids arrived the other boss discussed the work I had done on the laptop.  "This," she said, "Was fine," and added "Except that has to come out, this go in, we need etc..."  And now I have lots of paperwork to read before amending the first draft and continuing on.  

Fine indeed, except by the time ten thousand kids, most of whom think eight items totaling £17:34p can be bought with the £5 they brought with them, have been dealt with I, like my female companion, the other having ran for the door when the kids appeared, sat drinking our tea and wondering how teachers cope.    

The teachers and assistants today I must say were good, as indeed were the kids, but it is a confusing experience and takes two and lots of concentration to get through it.  

Later a sweet smile mentioned that the man who does Wednesdays will not be there.  It added the regular girl is on holiday, "cough" said the sweet smile.  Just until 12 it purred.

Another smile turned into a smug grin when it added by the way the afternoon girl may not be in as family illness etc....  So tomorrow instead of being stuck behind this machine I am stuck behind a desk there.  I better take this with me and fail to get anything done. 

WHAT? 

I now find there is another school in tomorrow - NINETY FIVE KIDS!!!

I may not post tomorrow....

Work, Work, Work....

This has been my view for the last 48 hours.  I have been doing a bit for the museum which must be in tomorrow, and it is not nearly finished.  My eyes are looking at one another, my mind does not know where it is and I did not catch up on other things till long past the time they had gone.  I am not used to this work lark these days.  
Writing things, when they have to be accurate and right, is not easy as it means going back over it time and again, fixing the mistakes, wondering where bits have gone to and asking why a paragraph is twice repeated in different places!  This is just the revised draft, and two thirds have still to see a preliminary scribble.  
Here I had no interruptions, except when going back and forward to remove that red line that claims I canny spell.  That takes a lot of time I can tell you.  I would like the machine to auto correct misspelt words (Yankees don't like the word 'spelt' either) but this means I would have to go over every word and take out the things the machine puts in wrongly.  
So tomorrow she will scratch my eyes out and grumble "This is not what I wanted," before reaching for the whip.  Not much change from normal for her then...

He thought it funny to sit there and laugh while I attempted to print some pages off.  Not only did it fail as the black ink had run off.  This required the removal of a thousand items to open the printer so as to insert the new one, which luckily was in the drawer.  This complicated operation, once every thing had been returned almost to its place, went wrong as all the pages printed off instead of just the seven I wanted.  I may need a new cartridge soon!  I think that bird may be a Kookaburra and not a Starling judging by the way he laughed at me.

I shot him!

Joyous Saturday...

Lack of sleep does not aid concentration.  I noted this as I rose at 5:30 this morning.  I tried to stay snug as a bug beside the other bugs but could not sleep.  I rose, fed my fat face and began to work on the latest museum project.
Obviously I had to run round for the veg from the stall so I did not do much, but I had started.  Once all was done I started in earnest and got on well for a good while.  Then I had to prepare for the museum as there was a skill shortage today with folks skiving off.  Only two of us were left.
This might have been a problem had we been busy but as I made off I snapped this pic from the park.  A Cycle in the Park event for kids was on taking them away from us.  A variety of activities including climbing this wall, even if you need a helper to go with you, was available and by the cheery sounds it appeared to be a success.   

So expecting a quiet time I took the laptop with me to continue my scribbling and right enough it was quiet.  I set up the machine, found my place, cogitated and a man walked in.  He was searching for a leaflet on an model railway exhibition and sought advice on getting there, he avoided parting with money.  I returned to work.  Working my way through 1942 while distracted by rescuing the goods outside the door from the rain the weather man said would not arrive until midnight was not the easiest way to work.  However I did begin to make sense of the mess that glared in front of me when the boss flew in, grabbed items for the reunion he was speaking at and flew out asking me to open the door that was already open!
I worked happily for a time until a man arrived.  A good man, an interesting man but a man who talked.  Normally this is good, interesting and worth listening to but he went into every detail of his subject, a subject I already knew a bit about.  I changed the subject he talked about that in detail, I ventured another, he talked about that also.  I pointed him towards the books, he talked about them also!  
It was about this time I realised my tiredness was catching up with me, I had not got my siesta at lunchtime and it was showing.  We discussed, at length, things of great moment, he knew a lot, and eventually he went on his way happy.  A man I was glad to meet but the lassie had come out eventually, putting down her ipad and boyfriend on the other end to help.  It didn't work and he soon left but he bought something before he went, and we discussed this also!  
Only one lovely woman came near the end but by then I was losing thread as 1943 approached and my little mind was unsure how to proceed after the first paragraph.  I closed the machine and chatted to the visitor which was easier as she was in a rush.  She did manage to buy something mind, lovely lass.

Now, while the rest of the staff attend various celebratory parties I sit here in bed scribbling again wishing to continue work but have to write this first.  Was it worth it....?

Transport

I was making my way home yesterday when I saw this vehicle outside the register office.  A young couple were getting married and it appears this was their transport.  I took the foto as I guess this was a Studebaker car from the late 50's.  I had a second hand somewhat tarnished 'Dinky Toy' Studebaker model when considerably younger and I liked it and the car has stuck in my mind, although the car itself did not.  Someone will know the make of car most likely.

   
High above today I noticed this fellow noisily soaring around.  This was unusual as no planes of this type (Tiger Moth?) appear in our skies.  Around this time of year those who restore or just store and maintain such creations often wheel them out for the many air shows that appear relatively near by (If you possess a car).  Possibly he was on his way to/from one such, possibly he was just out for a run.  He did not offer me a lift.

I am writing abut WW2 again and my eyes have already gone off in different directions and I have only reached 1942.  This is supposed to be a shirt item!  Vast amounts to do yet and it is required NOW!


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Wimmen on Bikes!

Today the second stage of the 'Women's Tour' set of from our wee town.  Racing against the wind but in warm sunshine the girls would run about Essex, up the hill at Halstead I can hardly walk up and make their way to Clacton on Sea, and good luck to them there.  I managed to get out in time to watch them hurtle down the hill preceded by a vast number of Police Motor Cycles and support vehicles, all 'Skoda' by the way. 

The difficulty with such events as this is that you stand in one place and the bikes rush past.  This is great when they do a roundabout route but in these races they flash past and are gone.  This happened here.  I took this pic when attempting to focus and then just pressed the button.  Quite tolerable I think, but who wishes to cycle around a hundred miles in a race?

When the race began these kids from some organisation or other precede the riders.  Supported by police escort they wended their way ahead down the main road and once they got half way down the hill they parked up.

Being female becoming screaming banshees was something they managed with little difficulty. They were joined by a school filling the area opposite in making much noise as the girls cycled past.

What a great incentive this is for the kids.  A day out of school, learning cycling, one of the great free enjoyments (once you by a bike), a super way to get around, safer for girls of all ages making their way home at night rather than walking on pavements, and sheer fun as well as useful.  I should point out at this point one of the young lassies working on a project at the museum came off her bike and fractured her elbow!  We still make her work, occupational therapy!

Last year the 'Tour de France' on it's foreign week came within two miles of here.  Too far for me to cycle especially when you see more on TV.  Naturally when they riders passed up the road the TV went to an advert break!  I am not sure what channel this lot were on as I was too busy wandering around to look for them.  Then I had to visit the museum for orders.

Motorbikes are made for covering the 'Tour,'  these powerful beasts wend their way between the array of support cars in front and behind, each with a specific purpose.   It was difficult to count them as about twenty raced past at one go, mostly police blocking roads as the race passed by.

Not all had to race around, some just blocked roads and 'controlled' quietly.   For motorcycle police such events must be a great part of their duties, often bringing close contact with the public and this could be enjoyable, usually.

 

Back at the aftermath of the start the crowds thinned and the police there were dealing face to face with the public also.  As I passed several were in discussion re the serious crimes in the town, serious enough to them 'anti-social behaviour from neds' being heard as I passed as well as late night weekend drunkenness.  Now as this area has a very low crime rate it is clear the fear of crime is worse than the crime.  Wary of late night town centre when pubs close is important but not if you are indoors watching telly Missus.  Young neds are indeed a pest but few complaining actually get bothered by them.  It happens and it is not nice, but the fear makes it worse than it is. 

I have never seen so many police in the town.  Events bring thieves with them so it makes sense, crowd control also is required, however I suspect there was little to bother the representatives of the law.  This chap may have filled in the time but does not appear to have caused them much worry.  This in many peoples mind is what policing ought to be about, meeting the public, showing a presence, and deterring as well as catching thieves.  However 'austerity,' the Conservative Parties watchword of the day meant that cuts had to be made therefore more police are in cars and less than ever wandering town centres.  Something wrong somewhere.

This was a good day for the town and I suspect more such events will now be seen passing through here.  It would be beneficial if the next one went straight past my window instead of making me get up out of the house! 

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Stress and Flowers

For two days I have been removing pictures, old programmes and stuff and the brute is still sticking.  Now I am not the complaining type but this would be a perfect opportunity to grumble.
Take Real Player.  I removed this because it introduced 'Real Player Cloud' and I did not wish to possess this.  The 'Cloud' part remains and is impossible to find and remove.  'Wild Tangent Games' are similar still!  Much more space has been found on the hard disc but still I wish to lose these brutes.
I downloaded fotos onto discs.  I had some on two or three different discs, so I deleted/swapped/ amended/changed and so on until I have almost sorted out the pictures but there are still more to go!  I was at this so long yesterday eventually the laptop could take no more and refused to play!  Like me it was too tired to continue.

  
With the sun failing to warm the place at least it lit up the flowers in the organic garden outside.   Quite why the heat fails when the light shines I do not understand, however we should be used to this by now.  
Nothing else has happened, if it did I missed it as I was waiting on a new disc to format!  Through the laptop problems I could hardly catch any of the last football of the season.  Now Mike S. informs me the Heart of Midlothian return to training on Friday!  A close season of five days only!!!  When I was a lad football ended after the Scottish Cup Final followed a week later with the Scotland v England game.  That left the remains of May, all of June, most of July before the new season which started in August or the last week in July.  How I missed the game during that period, it appeared to go on for ever.  Now it almost does not exist!  Those who run the game require to sort things out say!   There is now a cry for summer football - WE ALREADY HAVE IT!  


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Cleaning Laptop

All day I have been at this!  All day, from sunrise, behind the clouds, to dusk, which will be behind the same clouds, I have been attempting to dump stuff from the laptop.  I was 3:38 GB from capacity and now, after removing files, pictures, and anything that moves I have only moved to 7:85GB from capacity!  I still cannot get into the big ones I wish to move, Windows games on Win 7 are non removable, thanks ya greedy ape, and I still cannot get rid off others.  Bah!
I have removed pictures onto discs and each one required formatting, this took seven minutes each time, or was it more?  Choosing which to keep and which to dump takes hours, making, and burning, chicken also takes time, and through all this I have been unable to watch the football properly.  Not that I am one to complain but this really is the last now, in the middle of June!
I canny find anything now, the desk is covered in discs.....

I need to sleep...

Blackbirds & Football

The desk is still untidy, the papers still lie waiting sorting, books remain gathering dust as does everything else and all because of 'WildTangent Games!'  No matter what I tried I cannot get rid of the files deep inside.  Other things like 'Real Cloud' remains also stubbornly refusing to vamoose.  I have gone in here and there, used this and that yet so much claims to be there still.  The hard drive is almost full so something has to come out.  I lost meagre amounts of files, much sweat and my temper, but so much remains.  There was nothing for it but to have lunch and go back to bed.

This scruffy erk was sitting feeling sorry for himself as the Summer rain (note that, Summer rain) was falling.  The Starlings attempt to eat the Suet pellets from the feeder but I shoo them away as they stop the wee birds from feeding.  This young chap may or may not have been feeding but he certainly does not like the weather.  Starlings like to flock together and in the past we had vast numbers of them sitting atop the radio mast behind the police station and flying around in a large group having a ball.  Still a few hundred but numbers have dropped in recent years, maybe it's me!  Charles Dickens wrote of such flocks gathering in the far off suburbs of London, though they were far from suburbs then, at places like Kingston on Thames and gathering together to meet in London's centre.  Thousands would arrive, and still do, and er, do do, all over the place returning home in the morning. Not quite like it was in the 19th century but many still around.

Also unhappy, but probably something to do with her man who has not been feeding the kids or doing his work in the house, is this lass who certainly did not like the rain in her face.  Not a bad picture considering I took it through a window. 

BBC

At last, at long last the final game of the season is actually over.  No more football until, well July I suspect.  I need the rest, I am tired watching football, tired being stressed by it, tired and aching waiting for it to start and tired and aching waiting for it too finish.  Now at Last I have time to get the desk tidied up and...hold on, I think there may be a game tomorrow....

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Desk Tidy

I might tidy my desk tomorrow.
This is a thing I have been considering for some time now.  The desk top, the files in the desk, the files under the desk all require sorting, binning or investigating.  It may mean using that polish on the desk and choking myself to death with it.  There again I might just tidy up.
The 'To Do' list has got so long I just threw it away and started again.  Most of the things are coming round for their annual check up anyway.
There again I might just lie in bed all day.

I have just run a search using 'Treesize free' and discovered several programmes supposedly deleted some time back still have either vast amounts or some residue remaining on the hard disc!  How annoying is that?  Now I have to discover a way to get rid off them.  How come I did not realise this ages ago I don't know, maybe I have not used 'treesize' for longer than I realised, anyway something has got to happen soon.  The machine is running very slowly and I have run all the usual stuff to delete anything that is slowing it down but this made little difference, once I remove these quite big beasts that will help.
There again I may just lie in bed....
   

Bus, Jacket, St John's Moulsham, Cricket

In an attempt to avoid the builders/new neighbour/responsibility/laptop/work I took off suddenly for Colchester.  As I got to the bus station the bus drove out exactly on time therefore fooling me completely!  Instead I waited for the six minutes past Chelmsford bus which left a mere five minutes late.  This change of plans somewhat threw my plans out although I was, and remain, unsure what those plans actually were.   So in a day of hot sunshine I walked around the crowded centre of one of the most boring of cities known to man.  I sauntered through the charity shops containing jackets that suit me in every respect bar size!  Three perfect jackets were tried on and none were made correctly.  Tsk!  
The time on that clock was correct in 1896 but I would not trust it at the moment.

 
Tiring very quickly of the shops that do not stock what I want I found a place of refuge at the very far end of the street, a 'Chapel of Ease.'  Here I found rest from the sun and shops and found the company of two friendly church persons.  They were kind enough to allow me to wander around , take pictures and rest my feet for a while and cogitate.  Having done so we chatted for a short while and I found them very welcoming, a joy in any city.

  
The church has been undergoing some modernisation and the work has been going on for some time.  It is fair to say the church has been altering the building since first erected in 1837.  There were several reasons to build, one being the growing development of this area and a second arose when the railway from Liverpool Street was making its way towards Colchester.  The navvies building the line with pick and shovel, in between belting one another with forementioned items, requiring spiritual succour had until then some four or five miles to walk into town.  They usually managed it as far as the pubs were concerned but a 'Chapel of Ease' was raised ensuring they, and any locals, did not have to walk the distance.  How much concern there really was for the navvies might be a moot point, few such men attending church and the many Irish were predominately Roman Catholic anyway, but it certainly suited the incomers to growing Moulsham to have their own church.  The Bishop of London was pleased to open the building giving thanks for the life of King William IV, who was on his last legs while little Victoria was sitting in Kensington Palace awaiting his end, tearfully I'm sure, and the church began to serve its people.

Much altered since the beginning, side chapels and towers followed in the years to come after the navvies moved on and the well established moved in.  I was surprised to see pews still in use.  Most churches today remove them and have chairs in a semi circular style, much better for the Sunday meetings and allows the space to be used at other times also.  These however were distinctively painted and well kept.  Cogitating here in the near silence was good for the heart as well as the feet. I am glad they now have the doors open and folk in attendance, it gives the church a 'lived in' look and connects with the people of the area better.

I wondered about the people who passed this was over those 178 years.  There may indeed have been some navvies, their wives and children, then the important people of the area, who paid towards its erecting, and other locals such as their workers and servants would  certainly pass through.  Once Victoria had married Albert the nation followed her 'happy family' approach to life this did not stop the establishment of class division, snobbery and personal control over churches.  By the end of the Great War church attendance fell, false religion, nominalism, was swept away for the most part and greater wealth or then the depression must have had its effects here.  What happened to those people I wonder?  Certainly they felt the effect of the second war, this town was bombed often.  The Victorian railway had brought new people and as the city developed so did wealth and prosperity for (almost) all.  Late Victorian Britain was a time of improving prosperity, education had become compulsory,  the railways had changed the face of the nation and imperialists had developed an empire and the arrogance that goes with it, not that I will mention this.

An example of improving oneself lies here, Samuel Wackrill a one time draper who by the time he was 64 had moved from living in the High Street, possibly 'above the shop' to New London Road, a move which implied no lack of cash at hand.  he gave his occupation as a 'Landlord of houses,' and I wonder if he was a good one?  Within ten years he was a mere 'retired draper' but living in Chandos House' a fancy name for his dwelling.  His New London Road house were not for the likes of me I can tell you, unless I was a servant.  Samuel left us in 1889 a few years after his wife.  Clearly he was a 'pillar of the church' and has a burial spot positioned where passersby can remember him as they enter each Sunday.  He was unable to take over £3000 of his pounds with him when he left however, not a bad sum when you and I would be earning between 5 shillings (20 to the pound) and £2 if highly skilled a week. 

I wonder about those who are buried with much pomp and remembered with huge tombstones like this one.  Could it be he tries yet to stay alive?  Could it be simple oneupmanship in an effort to prove your importance?  Either way it fails for this chap, his name is non existent now and he is forgotten.  

The accoutrements of an Anglican church often confuse me but while some are easier to comprehend I find the whole setting most attractive.  Many churches here go back far further than St John's but I wonder if the welcome there is as pleasant as the welcome at this church?  The church is the people not the building and while I would find them a little too 'churchy' on a Sunday I would certainly pop in for coffee if passing again.  It is the people, knowledgeable people, who make the place and I found two of them here. 

 
Of course you didn't think I would ignore the war memorial did you?  Such a shame the names are now fading.  However the memorial was a good one for the time and in a prominent place for all to see.  

 

 My creaking knees stumbled to a halt when we noticed this creation falling apart in this somewhat run down area.  Further inspection shows it to be an unidentified object in the grounds of what is now the 'Chelmsford Club' a place for businessmen to do business and get drunk together.  Next to it lies the gatehouse, once the entrance designed to keep the plebs out.  As I wondered lost among recent built offices I considered these Victorian buildings more worthy of praise than the quite well built new ones.  These form part of a big house created by James Fenton an architect come engineer who cleaned up the local water supply thereby improving health for the townspeople, he also designed many of the better buildings in the town.  Together with friends he built New London Road later populated by the wealthy from St John's and removed himself to Croydon to improve their health also.  His wealth is seen in the size of the stable block alone! 

Heading back to the bus I tried to get a picture of the entrance to the cricket ground.  This is the home of the Essex County Cricket side.  According to the confusing mess that is their website this county lies at the bottom of the second division, which tells you something.  There however is in my view far too much 'pap' and not enough sensible information, easily consumed, on these pages.  I did however work out that whatever type of cricket they play (what is 'T20 Blast!' when it's at home I ask?) it is clear Essex are not very good at it.  However I could not find my way through the new buildings and it transpires I was far from where I should be so I went home.  The glimpse of the floodlights, probably not working like the players, is your lot cricket fans.  Cricket does not appeal to me much but today the ghastly commercialism really does put me off, it is very different from a mere thirty years ago and this is not an improvement

 
So, no jacket, rubbish shops, too many people, only the church really worth taking pictures off, a nice house, once, and a cricket ground with a failing team.  Nothing could be worse unless the 12:55 bus does not arrive until 13:10 and leave me asking if it is the late running bus or the early 13:15 one?  Being 'First Bus' you do not get to know.  I suspect however that as each old dear (and there were lots of them) got on the bus they asked "Why are you late?" and jumped up and down.  The driver
 would probably answer "Because I was explaining to old women why I was late dear!"  We got home several minutes before we should have done had he come on time, work that one out!