Computer Stuff Innit?

The Windows 10 upgrade arrived today.  I have yet to upgrade, and the beast is going slow for some unknown reason as it is, and I am in two minds whether to go ahead with this confusing upgrade business.  One thing is clear Microsoft will know everything about us that it does not know already and 'they' will be keeping tabs on us even closer than before.  If only I had brains I could use one of them Unix type browsers.  If I had brains I would of course be living in a warm country, by the sea, with several servants seeing to my every need.  As it is I'm clearly dumb!  
I will await indications from the geeks around us as to whether this new OS works, if I have brains enough to work it, and what are the pitfalls, mistakes and obvious bits Microsoft have forgotten.  I suspect within the week a million updates will be flowing around the ether stopping the hackers enjoying themselves, interfering with peoples private computer worlds is a job for the police and tabloid journalists after all.
One thing, every blog now has that daft cookie message on it but I have not seen it on mine, does it show to others I ask?  I understand the need for this but wonder about going too far with such things.  Surely a small message, whether accepted or not, should suffice?
I have tried to remove things from the laptop today but even that went wrong.  I have placed the info on discs, pictures fill discs, this took time and was well organised I thought.  However as I went to add fotos to these discs they were either full or I could not find the appropriate disc!  Maybe I lost it, deleted it or didn't make one and deleted the previous stuff by mistake, anything is possible here.  Still it filled the morning didn't it?  My technical expertise is limited but today I must confess it was falling apart, I knew I should have eaten better last night, that's the problem!  Something is slowing the beast and with half a brain and the failure of the malware finders to find anything I conclude it must be me.  Bah!  
This is typical of course, work on fixing things in the house is half finished and many half started ideas leave a mark in odd corners,usually wreathed in cobwebs.  My documents folder has many such great ideas I have began and dumped when reality came along, and this desk is awash with books and papers for reasons long forgotten.  The story of my life really.  
I prepare for the kids tomorrow, the bullwhip suggestion has been useful, extra staff laid on, hopefully, and chocolate produced to keep the girls near me.  A useful tip for men failing to attract them, a bag of chocolates produce a response like bees around a honey pot!  If they talk too much give them toffees, that does not fail either as they cannot refuse and then cannot talk, wonderful idea that works! 

Kids Stuff Began Today

This was my morning!  A stampede of kids and mums all at one time!  I lost count at three or four thousand.  They had come for the first holiday activity, gardening, and spent the day enjoying themselves in the somewhat cold outside today.  I just had to book them in, all by myself, which entailed checking the records, booking them for further activities, giving name tags, answering phones, dealing with strangers questions and all at one time.  The others were doing a variety of other things looking for help from me!  
The kids, all seven thousand off them, behaved well, except when I did my headmaster grumble at two wee neds aged about ten throwing things about, and they went home happy with their pots of herbs or salad or other things to grow at home.  Naturally the paperwork went wrong and as I tried to sort it out in between showing kids the toilets, answering phone calls, booking folks in and dealing with yet more queries, I never got it right, even with help!
And my chocolate fell on the floor.
That was my lunch!
I ate it.
Finishing time arrived before I had finished my breakfast tea.  I was so busy I did not notice the time pass by.  So much was done, by me, and no doubt so much will have to be put right, by them, and then I have to do it all over again on Thursday covering for the sick.
It is amazing how quickly a well organised desk descends into farce!  It's a good thing the mums understand and play a good part here.  This fills the kids time, saves them worry, and many disappear to shops or cafe while it goes on.  It's so good most have come back from last year.    

Other queries included a man researching his house.  He has done wonders in finding out so much about previous owners, including the one who frequented the courts for not paying for things, and was stuck regarding individuals who he thought we might have info on.  Naturally I was interested but passed the buck to the boss who has the info hidden deep in the bowels of the computer system.  Looking back into who lived in the house is very interesting, daft some folks think but when you begin to look amazing facts ans coincidences arise.  The man who began a museum here in the 30's lived there at one point so that was interesting.  

I wandered into Tesco for bread afterwards and found it full of people, many with kids.  Outside the lower orders of adolescents were gathered hanging around waiting on something, a wash perhaps, and I felt sorry for the staff as masses of folks will pass through and around the store for weeks.  This reminds me to shop early when all this lot are still akip.

I will return to my bed several times tomorrow I have decided....  

Mindless

Sick!
Time has dragged this weekend as my head has not been with me for the most part.  Sleep was the only answer as I struggled to get through the days over the weekend.  Today I slept a lot avoiding the summer weather, rain, wind and people in shorts and T=shirts convinced it was warm!  How daft are the English?

Instead of working upon something or other I done little of any account, so no news there.  I merely look forward to the football returning properly next weekend and then I can wright about it daily.  Wouldn't that be nice?  What?....oh!

David Cameron is unhappy about a member of the House of Lords being found taking cocaine from a prostitutes boobs, using the girl,dressing in her bra and informing the world of his opinion of Dave and everyone else.  An opinion most agree with by the way.
David thinks this is not nice yet forgets the paedophiles  inquiry underway at the moment, looking for such among members of previous cabinets no less,and Westminster being full of deviants and perverts of all kinds which he as PM has been informed about.  They remain in the House and he does nothing about it, until the 'Sun' catches them out.
Maybe he should stick to threatening Iraq and Syria where he next wishes to bomb.  Clearly this will happen, clearly he wishes to put troops on the ground, clearly he is the front man for the US who wish to do the same.  'Fools rush in....'

What else happened?  I don't remember, I was looking for my mind.

A Sweet Thought

The Scots diet begins with sweets.  Daily the kids would fill the local shop buying the delicacies and destroying their teeth.  In times past, when such as those pictured were bought for a penny, some four for a penny, or maybe a half penny depending on when you went to school, in times past no-one wrote long diatribes in the press grumbling about fat lids and potential diseases.  Well the dentists did but we ignored them!
In 1956 I started school, how frightened I was and much more so when I discovered I would have to continue there for the next seven years!  Each day I had threepence to spend on luxuries such as these.  I chose carefully and my teeth rotted at the normal rate for the time.  However I was miffed for may years as the 'Walnut Whip' was fourpence and as my spending money grew so did the price of the 'whip!'  There was little in the way of tinned drinks then we did buy large bottles of juice form the shops or occasionally from a lorry selling them around the estates. (Note: in those days referred to 'housing estates,' not 'schemes' as portrayed by fans of 'Trainspotting' that vile film of the eighties (filmed in Glasgow by the way.)) Cola, Dark Kola, and the usual run of juices were available to rot the teeth but there were still no whining in the media (which I did not read anyway).
Why then were we not fat, sick, and subject to the 'nanny state?
For a start our mothers cooked!  Potato Soup made by my mother was better than anything bought in a tin.  Far too many chips, along with fish, spam fritters or other home cooked grub.  Many of which were fried in the big pan fryer.  I was skinny, and indeed remain such except for the pot belly.
We played outside and this was a reason we were healthy.  We played all sorts of games as kids including violent ones based on the recent war yet none of us became deranged killers (except for that unfortunate night in Mussleburgh which I canny mention).  As we got nearer adolescent age we played football every night, as well as in the playground, and did not suffer any problems.  We started smoking at that later adolescent age all do and most have long since dumped that.  
So why the change?
For a start false equality entered the playground. Instead of boys developing alongside boys and girls beside girls they were all mixed, and that ruins a football game.  The gender lie attempts to make them the same, they are clearly NOT the same and require a great deal of separate development.  The absurd belief that guns caused violence removed army type games from young children.  Even cowboy guns, once common, were banned.  Violence comes from the heart, not guns!  The people most likely to oppose any war are soldiers who have served in battle.  They know what it is like!  Such men also oppose selling guns to anyone who asks!
Quite why football stopped being played nightly in Edinburgh in the eighties remains a mystery.  Was it homework?  Then why are so many from that time dumb?  Why did they buy the awful music from Duran Duran, Wet Wet Wet, and other spangly hair coiffed numpties?
Could it be computer games?  They began then, did they kill off football?  I know only that all the places I once revealed my outstanding goalkeeping are no longer used this way.  How sad.  Could this be responsible for Scotland losing its place in world football?  
If mum's cooked properly, if food manufacturers did not put so much muck into food, if the nation was less wealthy and could not afford needless amounts of fattening rubbish the nation might be healthier.  It certainly would be fitter if more boys kicked a ball around each night than played computer games and kicked one another around.
And another thing Mars Bars were always to expensive for me also. 

Saturday Pigeon Post

Football is back!
Today is the first day of Scottish football, well the wee cup began today, next week the real thing begins.  So for the first time in ages I was able to watch a proper game, until I got fed up as we knew who would win and went out for some wood glue.
Yes wood glue.
In trying to restore the door I am inserting each strut in it's rightful place, then doing it, and several others, once again.  Soon I will require to stick them down and wood glue will be useful.  However I have only reached half way and they are not keen to stay in place.
I walked away in disgust.
Nothing else happened.
I keep forgetting what day this is, a habit these days. 
There is something else I keep forgetting, but I canny mind what that is...

 

Rain

This has been the lot today, nothing but rain with much more promised overnight.  Hooray!

At least the streets will be clean, but it might last until Monday!  
Nothing else happened.
If it did I missed it.

It's not been a Good Day

I'm no happy!
Waking early near six thirty I had finished breakfast by around nine. 
Well there is the emails to read, none whatsoever again, not even spam.  
There is the daily online papers to scrutinise,  occasionally adding comments beneath.  To the 'Daily Mail' I am a Socialist Labour Leftie Communist, to the 'Guardian' a fascist and to me that indicates I am on the right track.  Not that there was much to comment on, just misandrists attacking men for saying things about women when women say worse about men and are feted by such as those who use the term feminist,  (Has anyone see the feminist bible? What are the ten laws of feminism?). There was also an Oxbridge type Labour woman warning about Jeremy Corbyn being a danger.  You could not make this up, a woman who has never worked telling others what Labour should stand for!  
Anyway I was up for work by then, sort off, so I hoovered a day early, considered the dusting and considered doing that later, much later, made space and set up the ironing board.
These jobs are all, as you know, what women were made for.  Quite why they make such a fuss about doing it with no help when they also make such a fuss about not having it done even when it doesn't need it except in their eyes by a man who sees no need to do what doesn't require doing.  I fail to understand their fuss myself.
Sadly I could not convince any woman to do this work, work she was clearly made for and then worked my way through a pile of shirts that had been awaiting ironing for some time.  I didn't recognise some of them it's been so long.  I took fro granted they had been washed but ...you never know, too late now.
So I spent all morning going back and forth while watching an old video about Nero, except when a bit broke off the iron, I wonder what that was for?
After what to me was an interminable time I grabbed the shirts, now hanging sort of ironed on the bookcases and took them to the cupboard.  This was a moment of triumph!  With all the shirts washed and ironed and put away I could forget this for another year, or so.  Happily I fell over things lying about and made for the east wing.
My day was made as I opened the door of the venetian blind slatted cupboard.  Holding a mass of shirts with one hand I jerked open the door gently and the beam pulled away from the rest off the door and all the strats that make up the door fell to the floor.
(censored)
It all remains there.
It might remain there a long time!
To replace the slats will take forever, as one goes in the next falls out. As you get higher the lower fall out again.  The small door above occasionally does this and it takes ages to get the two or three slats back in place.  There appear to be a lot of things to replace.  This could be an ongoing process for some days, if not weeks.
I'm so happy...

Grumbling, me?

I saw this man early today after I dropped off a letter complaining about the new block they wish to build next door.  He was sitting glaring at me, his friend hiding under the tree, and appeared less than keen to see me.  I suppose at that time of the day it is usually mums and kids on their way to school, or returned from there ans that is why he is feared.  The minute I moved he was off.
Next door lies an old hut.  It was built as a memorial to an individual of some repute after the war and now it appear sit has asbestos within and must come down.  A developer has offered a three story building with four flats, car parking space on ground floor, windows that looks into other peoples windows just to line his pockets and I and others do not like it.  This governments approach favours such men, and we have a similar council so I do not hold out much hope here.  I wrote and complained and a very slight adjustment has been offered, so I complain again but something tells me, from listening to others, that this will go through anyway even if totally wrong.  

In spite of not eating properly, feeling rough, and unloved I returned to fill an empty space in the museum this afternoon where I dealt with hundreds of attractive young mums asking about the kids stuff over the next few weeks.  The mums are somewhat miffed that there are seven weeks of holidays ahead, the kids are delighted.  I booked one or two in for dozens of things, the kids often not getting a choice, and the mums looking to the cafe where they can hide from them for a while.
All good fun and the events begin next week.  I am glad I only do one day, well two at the moment.
Thirty kids at one go, many mums also, thankfully I just welcome them in, check the list and dump them on the others.  I m completely washed out, too tired to watch the first of the football.  Tsk!


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Game, Cuts and Rock!

123

It has become my habit recently to retire to the East Wing and recline on the divan listening to those 15 minute Radio 4 programmes, if that is I can find one worth setting my ears to.  This is not easy as the BBC iPlayer Radio has a lot of such programmes, and many others also yet finding one to suit the present mood means a search through the archive.  When a suitable programme is found I then listen while fiddling with the 123 Solitaire game.  It appears impossible to just listen, my fingers need to run across the keys while I listen.  Just twiddling the thumbs does not satisfy.  Possibly I edge into a coma while doing this, some would say what's the difference from the norm, but it eases the cares of the day.  
Of course I use my full intellect on the Block Game also, or even Bouncing Balls, any game that does not require deep thought and yet keeps the fingers and mind entertained simply will do.  I tried Tetris but cannot turn the sound off, this makes listening to the wireless difficult, so I end up on one of the Solitaire games.
Life is so difficult innit....?

Brilliant tactic by George today.  He has leaked to the media his desire to cut 40% of the government spending.  Brilliant!  Where will he cut?  Nowhere that votes Conservative or pays into the Conservative coffers, so big business will continue to dodge taxes as will the owner of the 'Daily Mail.'  I suspect those full time carers may lose their £61 a week benefit, already his policies have threatened 300,000 children, but their folks don't vote Tory, and who will be next is the question?  As his Eton prefect mate wishes to invade Iraq I suppose he has to find the money for that from somewhere, and the weakest can do nothing about this as their is no opposition in the UK parliament today other than the SNP.  

Edinburgh Evening News

  
Good News!  Edinburgh Rock has been saved!  I knew this was one brand that could not be allowed to die.  One James Anderson, a local lad, has stepped in to save the factory.  Growing up near the place and knowing it was only age that forced the sale he has decided to keep the company going and pleased dentists everywhere!
These sweets, Edinburgh Rock, Pan Drops, Soor Plooms and Rhubarb Rock have eaten away at kids teeth for generations and to lose such an important part of the Scots diet would be unthinkable.
That reminds me, I better take my teeth out of that glass...

Mixed Bag Monday

Our power drunk incompetent PM is doing it again.  He has in his mind the idea that to be a great leader he must be seen as a war leader, therefore he has been striving these past few years for a war he can win.  Encouraged by politicians taking cash from gun running types he has proposed bombing Assad in Syria, before being told not to be stupid by almost everybody, he forced the yanks to help him bomb Libya and remove Gaddafi leaving Libya in a mess with several governments almost all of which are led by gun-toting murderers, and then he went to bomb ISIS in Iraq, now he wishes to bomb them in Syria also.  The situation is therefore the men he wished to help bomb Assad he now wishes to bomb for being in Iraq. Clear?

Once again this mans PR failure is evident.  Screaming loudly about bombing Muslims while telling the British Muslims to do something about their home grown possible terrorists just increases the numbers of home grown possible terrorists.  His 'five year plan' to defeat the 'Caliphate' as he calls it shows all the understanding of the Iraq situation revealed by Bush and Blair some time back, let alone the British and French after the first world war!  

This sort require sensible propaganda to defeat, intelligence and thought are a must.  Shouting loudly about killing them off will not work and just increase the problem.  Intelligence and thought are of course the two things least available in this government.  Thoughtful consideration is less important than joining with the US in a bombing campaign (which has not stopped IS so far) rather than working on the ground creating divisions within the group.  

Clearly both the US and UK wish to put boots on the ground, clearly all this is leading up to this idea, clearly that is unpopular in the country and will be a disaster for all concerned.

Colin Smith

The Carron Fish Bar claims to be the place where the 'Deep fried Mars Bar' was born.  This luxury did not exist when I lived in Edinburgh, Scotland's capital city.  However since the inception of this delight it now appears Scots eat only such delicacies and almost anything else is ignored.  Somehow  I feel this may not be true.  I myself have never had one, nor have I had the desire to eat one and I doubt the somewhat limited chip shops in this part of the world would never be capable of offering  such a treat.  Whether the idea for such treatment of a chocolate bar originated at this particular shop I know not.   This is one of those things that I have never studied myself, however this has become successful and all fish and chip shops now offer the same in Scotland, alongside other typical Scots fare, Haddock & Chips, Pie & chips, Kebabs & chips.

There is however a problem, isn't there always?  The banner outside the shop has come under scrutiny of the council who are going through one of those 'clean up the town' periods.  The feeling there is that this particular banner is somewhat ugly and requires amendment.  Naturally the shop has rushed to the media to make publicity defend their right to use this banner.  Personally I would agree the banner is unsightly and a more considered display could easily be arranged.  However there is nothing like publicity and this woman will see people drive for miles to the shop for a deep fried Mars Bar!  The council do have powers others do not possess and I suspect changes will be made eventually without hampering this chip shops viability.

Interestingly Mars themselves wrote to this shop stating:-

 The company said it could not authorise or endorse the product which went against its policy of promoting a "healthy lifestyle."

Quite how a company that makes billions selling a wide variety of chocolate could make such a statement is beyond me.

Stonehaven itself rests just south of oil rich Aberdeen and dates far back into prehistoric times.  It is thought to have been established as an Iron Age fishing village.  In the late 1200's William Wallace the noble hero took back Dunnotter Castle from the thug Edward 1. King of Englandshire and later the noble Covenanters were crowded together in Dunnotter Castle before being shipped to the Americas, those that survived that is, some being executed or died of misuse.  Nothing much happens today as most pass through on their way north or south.  They can however stop off for lunch at the Carron Fish Bar, easily identified by the banner above the shop.

 

UPI

 

Mitsubishi, the Japanes giant, have decided to apologise for using American servicemen as slave labour during the second world war. How nice of them seventy years later! I notice this apology not only fails to offer compensation but also avoids any reference to the hundreds of British servicemen also enslaved at this plant. This feeble apology clearly has a hidden meaning. Mitsubishi, famous for their 'Zero' fighter at the time, clearly are aiming for some big money making deal with the US. What this may be we might find out later, clearly the British, nor the Australian, Indian and other, dead will not make them cash.

A Walk in the Gardens, Eventually.

Naturally I have been experimenting when not lazing about the floor.  I remained closeted indoors today gain filling my empty head with images from the TV of the Tour de France or Motor bike racing.  One tired me out, men cycling up hills at twenty miles an hour does this, and the other made me laugh as riders kept crashing off spectacularly and all but one walked away.  He was OK I think.
In between I played with the fancy bits on the camera and try as I might could not get this coin to reflect the actual colour.  I have never seen this one before, VC on the back of a fifty pence pence but it is dated 2006!  I must be slipping, I must read my money better.

This mug was given to me by my niece, the brightest and best looking one.  She sent me this to match the teapot sent earlier!  One day she sent me a book, 'Grumpy Old Men,' an excellent read I must say but the title is incorrect.  She also sent on 'The Oldie' annual, and later 'The Real Dad's Army.'  Her husband must take better control of her I say.

Again no matter what I tried I could not catch the actual shade in which sat this bench.  Even after fiddling with it there is still no likeness to the original colour.  Maybe the camera is faulty...?  You do get funny looks when taking pictures of empty benches in the park.

I only sauntered out for ten minutes, walking slowly through the gardens being overtaken by old wives on Zimmer frames and older ones pushing older ones in wheelchairs.  Bah!  Almost as bad when in the eighties working in London the driver and I were upset to be given an old van to use.  We were more upset when overtaken by a walking funeral!   

Study Day.

All day Friday we had a study day.  The museum now requires to place all the stock onto digital photos so that we can show them online, cover insurance and just keep a record of the item.  So a group of us were tutored by Sarah an excellent professional at this sort of thing and excellent photographer and a great deal was learned.  Naturally she exposed my lack of understanding of this computer controlled camera, my lack of knowledge and several other faults - then we began.

 
Sarah began by making us use things on the camera some of us had never known about, even the wee cameras were full of tricks.  Naturally I had heard of all these things mentioned years ago but had never used them, white Balance, metering mode, ISO and such things but in the days of twisting lenses and twiddling knobs it was all different and I rarely made use of what little I thought I knew, and it showed.  However computerising everything is easier when you remember what to do and when to do it.  All to often this means hitting the Auto button!  We all had such fun wondering what was going on and attempting to find the items she indicated on the cameras.  As we had several different types of various ages and various makes there was some confused expressions as we pressed buttons and let out exclamations.  The most used one was 'HELP!'  All her info and advice sounded so easy but was not so easy to put into practice especially when you take regard for the motley collection struggling to get the brain in gear.

  
It was an instructive time and after we had cooled down and walked around to clear our heads we did the practical side of things.  When we came to actually photographing different types of items we saw the problems writ large.  This beast here looks OK in this picture, it reveals the shape but the colour is very different from the original.  This would not do for recording purposes.  None of the seven or eight pictures gave proper rendition of the colour.  The white background was worse making the object merely black!  The white balance trick, the spot metering trick and pressing the wrong button trick were all tried and but failed to give satisfaction.  
The coin was a laugh, for the others!  I could not get the Macro to work on my camera, the two girls did with no problems and that is Sarah's effort with the coin.  Their cameras worked well, not mine, bah!  When I did get the Macro to work my hand shook, possibly with rage, and the effort was worthless.  It did however show the difficulties of the simple job of photographing objects for museum purposes.  

We learned a great deal from this and once we find suitable undiscovered space we can start taking the photos.  We ought to have completed the job by 2150!   I spent ages attempting to picture the mirror without any reflections.  Naturally the thing looks blank without a reflection so I had to find one.  I don't think I would spend cash on this myself judging by that photo.  
An enjoyable day even though I felt rotten early on as the bug was bugging me but I managed to stay awake long enough to see out the day.  I have therefore spent today lounging around hiding away from the world and also the sunshine which has shown up again today.  How nice to have nothing that must be done today, not even a blog, er, oops .         

Lee Gets it Right!

Lee appears to think this song fits, I wonder why...?

Life Gets Tee-jus, Don't It

The sun comes up and the sun goes down
The hands on the clock keep a-goin' 'round
I just get up and it's time to lay down
Life gets tee-jus, don't it, hmm.

My shoes untied but I don't care
I ain't a-figurin' on goin' nowhere
For I'd have to wash and comb my hair
And that's just wasted effort.

The water in the well just gettin' lower and lower
Can't take a bath at six months more
But I've heared it said and it's true, I'm sure
That to much bathin' will, will weaken you.

I opened the door an' the fly's swarm in
Closed the door and I'm sweatin' again
And in the pros... (a huchh) crack my shin
Just one darn thing after another.

Old brown mule he must be sick
I jambed him in the rump with a pin on a stick
He humped his back but he wouldn't kick
Now there's something cock-eyed somewhere.

A mouse a-chewin' on the pantry door
He's been at it fer a month or more
When he gets through he'd sure be sore
'Cause there ain't a darned thing in there.

Hound dog howlin' so forlorn
Laziest dog that was ever born
He's a-howlin' 'cause he's a-settin' on a thorn
An' just to tired to move over.

The tin roof leaks and chimney leans
An' there's a hole in the seat of my old blue jeans
And I ett the last of the pork and beans
Just can't depend on nothin'.

Cow's gone dry and the hens won't lay
Fish quit bittin' and it's Saturday
Troubles are pilin' up day by day
And now I'm gettin' dandruff.

Grief and misery, pains and woes
Debts and taxes, yea, so it goes
I think I'm gettin' a cold in my nose
Life get tee-just don't it?...

Walter Brennan

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

The weather is miserable, dank and dreich!  Drizzle swept from the skies as I sauntered across the park seeking fresh air, I found dampness.  The thrush stood head in the air listening for worms grovelling below while sprinkles of water bounced off her beak.  She glared at me as if it were my fault and I hastened into Sainburys for the bread. 
As I approached the lass at the checkout one of those cheery helpful recorded announcements was made.  This happily informed us of a bargain somewhere in the store and continued lying to us in a cheery voice.  I indicated to the girl that a slap was what he really required and she agreed. She claimed he only came in to do announcements then ran for home while they dealt with the throng of people for the rest of the day, most grumbling about the so called bargain he had just announced. Early in the day we do not require cheery happy people, unless we are burning them at the stake!

Having made it home through the drizzle I have been sitting here staring at the laptop rewriting the draft.  It is still rubbish in my view.  Better than it was but not good enough, it just does not flow.  She who must be obeyed wants this tomorrow, it is funny how tomorrow is approaching much faster than it used to.  Having taken a break to eat and do the laundry, it is July after all, I now sit here stuffed full of bad chicken and worse chips.  It was all I could be bothered with.  My diet is not liking this either.  

Returning from the shops this morning I came through the dingle dell like area where the humidity, the dank leaves and the bad tempered Blackbird upset because I was stopping him have breakfast all gave a taste of a tropical jungle.  The trees were wet with rain, leaves dripped water on me, unless it was that Blackbird, and breathing the air was a delight.  Whether I would like this for hours at a time 
in a real jungle I am not sure but it was an interesting change from normal dankness.

Now I must return to 1943, or is it 42?  This war is dragging on and the casualty rate is rising.  Indeed it is 1942, I got ahead of myself.  I did this with one house which I bombed two years too early.  I suppose I ought to apologise to the deceased.  At least we are not alone now, the Soviets and Yanks have joined in.  The Russians will fight the Germans and the Yanks will fight anyone who tries to stop them stealing our wimmen!  "Got any gum chum?" and that's not the kids asking is it!

War and all that...

Another day of  WW2.  Will this war ever end?  Since early morning, well sort off, I have been writing and when I look at what I have wrote I wish I had never started this.  What a  load of tripe I write!  It just does not flow, irks me a lot and then I discover something is two years out or in the wrong place. Worse somethings are in twice, how did that happen?? 
So I ate about a third of the cabbage and hope my brain will improve tomorrow.  Except that I'm out at the museum so will do nothing until late on.  Did you know milk chocolate was banned during the war, milk was in short supply you see.  Instead you could have a nut or fruit bar, hmmm, they cost a fortune now.  The British population was supposedly at its healthiest during WW2 because there was shortages of everything, especially fattening stuff.  It must be said however many folks could not get fat as they never had enough to eat before the war, especially if there was a large family.  The Labour government of 1945, there was a Labour Party in those days, not a Conservative 2 Party as now, the Labour Party changed the world for the better in 45.  The NHS, nationalisation and rebuilding houses all while working together for the common good.  Only grasping Tories disagreed.  Thatcher destroyed the idea of 'service,' and working together.  Instead it was every man for himself, especially her friends.  George Osborne works the same way but without the intellect.  

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Cabbage

A man during the second world war was given the responsibility for ensuring children received sufficient nourishment from the limited foodstuffs now available.  Oranges and bananas, often beyond the price of many at the time, were amongst other luxuries no longer considered vital to keep the nation afloat.  This gentleman, who's name escapes me, decided that the answer was cabbage!  This combined with the 'Dig For Victory' campaign enabled the British population to be healthier during the war and the restrictions thereof that they have ever been since!    
However as I mused on this I cogitated also on how to cook this beast.  I looked closely at the fat, dense, wrinkled green creation in front of me and considered how like the rest of my family it was.
Dense, sums so many of them up, wrinkled takes care of others who will not be mentioned, and green, well, less said about that I suggest.

The wrinkles reminded me of the TV that the women watch.  While some refuse to lower themselves to the banal offerings (my sister insists on wasting her senility on X-box or whatever games) most will sit for hours watching programmes made in the seventies which are repeated several times a day (always with the same ending) and these women will get involved once again with a tour de force of bad acting!  The cabbage sums this up well.  Quite why there are so few couch potato size women around the family I know not, possibly the shopping sprees help there.  How can anyone with half a brain, and that sums up the family all to often, watch such badly made tripe beats me.

 
Worse still some would say, not me, is the way the cabbage reminds me of the men in the family.  Note how easily it stands alongside a, now empty, but full a short while ago, bottle of wine and half a bottle of beer.  Reminds me of the nieces husband and his fridge full of beer bottles for the cup final.  It turns out that was that fridges natural state!  He and his son probably have a fridge each these days.  The cabbage itself may be wholesome but the people around it require some improvement.

My delightful and best looking, indeed most talented and clever niece arrived one day last year and enabled my mobile to work!  So good was she that she managed to send a text to my phone and indeed from my phone.  I was glad as I had not managed to do so myself.  I indeed do not require the text facility as I do not have the friends to send meaningless texts to however it has some uses I suppose.  As she made her way homewards on the high speed rail network I sent her a text, well I tried to, as I typed all that would come up was CABBAGE.  So I gave up.  She understood, her dad had the same problem.  I blame her.

The weather is dreich, I sit listening to Radio 3 via the TV as the somewhat depressing fiddle violin quartet music is better than anything available elsewhere.  The boring tennis final is about to start and I suspect women everywhere are getting ready to waste hours watching.  I might drop in on the 'Tour de France,' a much more interesting activity, especially as by touring the country you see places you will never visit.  I read the 'Tour of Italy' might take a day out and pass by my window in a year or two's time, that will be good.  No cabbages there, unless I get on my bike to join them of course. 
Ah well, soon be time for bed....   

Tired & Weary I Give up...

The sun shone again, I noticed it when I went for the sausages and veg.
I ate a bacon sandwich.
This wore me out so I returned to bed.
I then ate sausages and mashed sweet potatoes.
I then fell asleep.
I then ate chicken nuggets.
I am now falling asleep.
Nothing else has been done.
My weekend is so glamorous.
Tomorrow it will rain.

Woopee...

Let's catch a train... 

Thursday Thought

As expected I awoke early this morning.  Listening to the dulcet tones of the shipping forecast being aired is a good way to come back into the world.  I would have preferred it to be nearer seven mind.  I therefore had no choice but to rise, waddle through and make breakfast with whatever was not yet past its sell by date, well not too far past anyway. 
My dim mind glanced through the online papers, each right wing nutbag proclaiming much joy over George Osbornes fiddled budget.   Each budget day the papers are the same.  The majority are ruled by the right wing barons who tell of Conservative budgets as wonderful events that bless the nation. Labour ones are miserable failures.  What passes for alternative views rambles on and makes little sense as they merely blame the Tories and ignore faults elsewhere.  It therefore becomes a requirement the day after a budget to listen carefully to the many experts who appear offering their tuppence worth to the world.
The net result usually means the lying creature has given money with one hand and taken money away with the other.  So it is with George yesterday.  An increase in the minimum wage u to £9 say the papers, actually it will not reach that high until 2020, which is five years away and a cut in tax credits (used to bump up the take home of those on minimum wage) which means for every pound George has given he has taken £1:50 or so away.  As always the Tory budgets appeal to the 'Daily mail' reader and panders to their beliefs, built on Tory lies in said paper, and ensures the lemmings will vote for the Tory's next time.  These are the people who voted to rid the taxpayer off the cost of nationalised industry, Gas , electric, water, trains, buses etc.  These are the very people who now happily pay through the nose for these industries because they no longer cost the taxpayer anything, the same taxpayer who is paying ten times the cost he would pay if they remained nationalised!
George fooled the famous IDS, he was celebrating for no good reason yesterday, possibly he understands how many will suffer because of this attack on the poorest?  I suspect he has pictures of Dachau on his office wall to cheer him up in the morning.
Another budget, another hoo-ha and the richest benefit with lower taxes, at least those that pay tax, unlike the owner of the 'Daily Mail' who has not paid tax for many years.   Housing benefit cuts will lead to homelessness, other cuts will cause many problems to which George answers "Get a job" or "Get a better job" and this from a man who has never had one? He certainly never worked for the minimum wage, never had to find accommodation from a grasping Tory landlord, and never lost his job becasue the boss would not pay the new minimum wage.
The 'Toffs' rule us today and call themselves 'One nation Conservatives.'

 

Aye, right!

I went back to bed after this.

Sometimes I canny understand the selfishness of wimmin!  Here is this one, living with a nice, kind, thoughtful man who looks after her every need and yet when eh has some spare time to play a video game with his pal she interrupts him and I suspect demands he speak to her, in spite of him being busy.  
How does a normal lad of today deal with such a woman?  He puts a few sedatives in her drink and lets her sleep until midday the next day that's what.  How kind, thoughtful and caring.  Did she appreciate the sleep, did she thank him for his concern, did she not feel blessed that by sleeping and keeping her mouth shut he and his pal could finish this important game?  No, not this lass, she ran to the police!  Tsk!  Can a man not get any peace these days?  No, the nasty judge fined him Euros 500.

News from the north east of England includes a 23 year old who saw a 6 year old kick an old man's walking stick.  When the 23 year old told him he was was told to "F off" by the kid.  he then went to a shop, bought a bar of soap and stuck it in the kids mouth.  
The child is known to be 'out of control' probably benefited from his experience.  He will not be so rash next time.  Would you believe the court took the kids side?  Mum says the sentence, a conditional discharge plus costs, was insufficient.  I think he should take the soap to mum or make the bint look after her son.  I suspect dad will not be available to do so.

England are apparently playing cricket against Australia somewhere or other.  Did they not do this last week, or the week before?  Does anyone care?  A man throws a ball and another man attempts to hit it with a big stick while all around a dozen other men stand idly by watching.
Would digging up the grass and building social houses for the old, the poor and those disabled by life not be a better use of such areas I wonder....?


Time to go back to bed again, that's twice already today.  Aint life grand?

Tired...

What day is sleep escapes me, my knees hurt, I keep seeing museums in front of my eyes and the book is not getting written no matter how many words I add.  I ache, weight increases (possibly because of too many 'yum yums') and I am soooo tired.  I worked late attempting to sell stuff at the museum, four birthday cards and a jar of sweets or two!  I reckon talking to the visitors wore me out.  Lovely discussions but they do go on and I was groaning as much as my knees were.

I note the chancellor has offered up a budget, I will look into this tomorrow when I awake, about ten, and see how much the poor will suffer and how his friends will benefit.  Not that I'm cynicalyou understand.... 

Good night...

Searching but not Finding

Earlier today I went searching for one of these locks pictured above.  This lock usually resides at the bottom of an inner door but was dunted by a man in a mobile disabled scooter a while back and has been wanting fixed ever since.  Nothing was done as it is an inner door and only opens in summer when the weather is like this (and I should indicate that tomorrow is again stotting rain!) and therefore is rarely used.  Howver the other day it was 'suggested' that I go to B&Q and get another.
You all know what a woman's 'suggestion' is like..... 

So off I trundled this lunchtime on the Free Bus along with some badly dressed school girls on much needed fashion shopping trips to the out off town shopping emporium.  The bus stops at the far end from B&Q, that's B&Q way down there hidden behind the trees, cars, trolleys and confused women attempting to get large boxes from said trolleys into car boots (I kept going!), so I had to walk all the way back and down through the car park to the store.
Taking my broken lock in hand I approached two attractive young female members of the B&Q staff gossiping discussing work behind the checkout and enquired.  "Do you possess one off these," asked I, "Which isn't broken?"
"er, umm, er..."  They began muttering that they had never seen one before and one pointed me in the direction of the appropriate aisle.  Here I, along with several other lost souls, searched aisle 35 back and forth and while discovering dozens of locks, padlocks, bolts and the like I noted that they were all completely different from mine.  "Hmmm thought I, this could be an out of date, not likely to be found anywhere type lock."  You canny say I'm not quick.  Well OK you can.
I glumly made my way back to the door when the dark haired young lady previously encountered asked if I found what I was looking for.  I informed her of my failure and she tried to encourage me in my endeavour with appropriate words of wisdom and sent me on my way.  Two excellent members of staff Mr B&Q and don't you forget it.

I pondered my options and considered my knees.  I could walk through the clothing side of the shopping centre where overpriced outfits are reduced to far too much money for anyone with half a brain (I note the free bus was a double-decker implying the centre expects lots of kids soon during the holidays) and having pondered and considered I remembered the Screwfix establishment on the other side and headed in that direction.  Sadly I wandered through the shops where I was tempted to look in and be depressed by the price tags.  However I still managed to buy three T-Shirts (size fat) from an attractive capable young lass I that Sports Shop that thinks it owns Rangers FC.  Actually now I think about it, it does!  These T-Shirts I buy there because I find they shrink less than the majority I buy.  The girl pointed to the store magazine as they always do 'Sports Something' it was called.  As I hung my belly over the counter I asked if she thought I was the 'sporty type.'  I then noticed a headline on the magazine which read 'Burn Fat' so maybe she was just making a point?

Onwards I walked blocking out the sun from folks sitting on benches my knees asking where we were going and reminding me by the creaking noises they make that this was not a clever idea fatso!  I went anyway, I had promised to get this bolt/lock thing and the man in the know was in Texas showing off his Landrover to jealous Yanks so he was no help and I had to check out this place.  I asked the kid on the desk (was he 18?) about the lock.  He did not recognise the lock and did not lose his confused somewhat dull expression but as is their way looked up his catalogue and searched for me.  Pages were turned, turned back, turned again, and he agreed with me it was not to be found.  I agreed even though I could not see what he was looking at as it was upside down and small.  Screwfix work on an 'Argos' style basis where you search the catalogue, fill in the form and they get it from the store.  Excellent idea if you know what you look for.  The kid looked to his elder colleague also wearing the same dull expression who made it clear he had no knowledge of the lock.  Only later did I realise they were 'Argos' like in their knowledge of the goods.  "Hmmm, thought I, this lock is out of date or maybe the world is fighting against us."  

 
I headed to Wicks around the corner and made my way wearily there.  The lassies there were welcoming and helpful, one leading me round at far too far a pace for my knees to where the locks were to be found all proudly displayed in their little bags or plastic wrappings.  None were suitable, none were what I looked for and none had ever passed the ken of the girls before.  At least theyw ere helpful.  As elsewhere all on display had been modern efficient locks of recent date much loved by the tradesmen and DIY folks who use such stores, they were no good to me, someone famed for having the DIY skills of a chimpanzee on Expresso coffee and a pint of vodka!  
Home beckoned and I turned in that direction.  I should remind listeners that the sun was shining through the clouds and the temperature was around 70ish and I was walking not sitting on the free bus.  Not only was I wearing my wee jacket that was fine earlier when the wind was blowing when I ventured out the house but now the wind died and I was lumbered with a bag with T-Shirts and a 'Screwfix' catalogue.  This was brought just in case we need one next time, and there will be a next time.  My knees ached, my feet complained and now I had run out of ideas, also it was so far to walk back for the free bus I decided to walk on myself.  Stupid man! I headed home avoiding the builders in their transit vans as they charged out of the gates to the stores I had left (do they have brakes?) and made for home.

My brain was befuddled before I set out and now it was frying away quite happily.  There is an ironmongers in town, too far for my knees my knees said creaking loudly but it seemed good tome to try for it.  As I struggled up the slope into town the free bus raced past me giving me a smug grin as it did so.  This added to the realisation that the walk into town where the ironmongers were situated was further than I realised.  The bus's grin pleased me no end and I informed the bus of my considered opinion especially as it stops quite close to my destination.  There was no-one there to listen, the bus certainly didn't.  The ironmongers when I reached there are often helpful and naturally were of little use.  I didn't even consider Tesco over the road as I would have to climb the stairs to be disappointed , and I made my way home with a broken lock and broken knees.
I grumbled when after dowsing my fat hulk in cold water I stood on the weighing machine to see how much weight had been lost by walking the hundred miles back and forth.  NOTHING!  I still stood at 16 stone!    

Now, looking through the Screwfix catalogue I find 'Flush Bolts' that look exactly like the ones I have, apart from the difference.  Bah!  How come kiddo did not notice?  Lets not go there.  


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