Tedious Saturday

You may be surprised to hear I spent most of my time today listening or watching to football.  I had little energy to do anything else.  While watching West Ham United defeat Manchester City to many peoples surprise I also attempted to fix the other laptop.  This I considered finished and then I began to download Windows 10 onto it in an effort to complete the healing process and also to finally remove !in 8.1 and it's awkwardness.  Hours ago, long before the teams took the field I began.  Hours later we are still at the 'Upgrading Windows' bit.  40% completed it claims while still only on the 'installing features & drivers bit.'  I suspect I may be here for some time and the electric bill will be screaming at me soon!
However I see some satisfaction.  By not getting the anti virus in quick enough I found I had those annoying advert that arise whenever you attempt to search something.  I also encountered some difficulty downloading items but that I believe was because 'McAfee' was used as an antivirus and had established itself everywhere already thus stopping other things working.  We shall soon (maybe) see if I have overcome this after removing as much of 'McAfee' as I can find.  He, like 'Norton' like to get in everywhere and must be removed item by item.  This means my emergency laptop will soon be ready, once new Memory is installed, to work properly.  I used 'Crucial' as it is efficient to get memory however the brute is not allowing me to log in constantly telling me my password etc is wrong.  I change it and it is still wrong.  They want shooting I say. I will fix that later, when I can be bothered.

Visit London

In days to come people will ask, where were you when Japan defeated mighty South Africa in the Rugby World Cup?  I will answer "Watching West Ham defeat Manchester City like normal people would be."  If they ask whether I watched the opening ceremony (I never watch the tedious opening ceremonies) I will say "I was watching St Mirren lose to Raith Rovers like normal people would be!"
And if they foolishly ask about GB beating Aussieland at Tennis I will say "What?"  "I'm sorry, I was having a life!"

p.s. The Kiwis will win the rugby anyway, they always do!

Friday Mumbling

In June this year the nation commemorated the signing of the 'Magna Carta,' the 'Great Charter of the Liberties.'  This great charter was sponsored by the Archbishop of Canterbury in an effort to ease the situation between King John and his rather irked nobles.  Johns demands for money for his French wars, which he kept losing, and his somewhat tyrannical approach upset the nobles, especially those based in Essex.  The peoples of this region have always been first whenever a cause of trouble was to arise.  During the Peasants Revolt in 1381 an the non conformist religious strife of the post Reformation years Essex folks led the way in rebelling.  This I need not remind you is an attitude that has not yet diminished! 
The museum would have preferred to have this exhibit earlier in the year but other events came first and this exhibition has been touring the land and during this week the hard working staff (without me obviously) have been erecting the exhibit for show next week.  Such a shame I was not available to erect a castle or two...
The Charter John signed less than willingly allowed for much protection for the individual (as long as he was a noble that is.  Serfs, villeins, slaves and anyone else who was not noble, rich or well to do just had to lump it.).  Peace there was not however and a short nasty war erupted and the brave Essex nobles moved themselves into fortified London (which was on their side) while John ran about Essex destroying their lands and taking their castles (which were either poor defensively or the folks inside just gave up), the nobels leaving their people to fend for themselves, how noble!
Luckily after this John not only lost most of his treasury in a place called 'The Wash' when the baggage train got stuck in the mud but he himself did the decent thing and died.  This left his son Henry III as king but being only nine years of age he was more interested in his electric train set, Lego and smartphone to actually work at being king.  This meant a wiser noble who supported the King had to become regent and he quickly issued a for of the Charter in an effort to ease the troubles.  By 1217 a form of peace and a renewed 'Magna Carta' was issued along with the Charter of the Forest (a much needed document as Forest covered much of the land and had specific laws) and a form of peace ensued. 
As time passed the Charter formed a base for laws, often reissued according to later Kings requirements and while totally useless in today's world (some try to use this in an effort to avoid paying parking tickets and other minor legal problems without success) the Charter is claimed by many as the basis of legal rights in many nations.  Whether that is true is debatable, certainly serfs and villeins worldwide may disagree, and a lot of other happenings go into making a nations laws.
Next Tuesday I will see the results of the lassies work, if they force me to work hard I will appeal to the Magna Carta for relief!

 
I was made aware summer had not yet left the premises by the thunder that rang out as I attempted to make a stew from the leftovers.  The noise of the clouds banging together was added to by the hissing of the hailstones that followed shortly afterwards.  While this did not last long the rain that accompanied this lot managed to eke out a decent length of time for what the weatherman calls 'showers!'  The sight of a nine year old in the distance who had managed to leave school in time to walk through it with no appropriate apparel either makes you feel sympathy or just grin like I did.  Poor mite, but we have all been there and he will be greeted by a caring mother who will belt him for not finding shelter somewhere, isn't mum grand?
As I speak the gray sky has darkened somewhat and the rain is again teeming down.  This is the time I stand at the window, coffee cup in hand, waving to anyone who looks up.  I usually get a wave back...  One of life's delights is to sit indoors, warm and cosy, while outside the rain hammers down.  This is an enjoyable experience, one of creations delights, although for many this weather will be doing their patios and back doors no good at all if it continues like this.  Down the bottom of the big hills the richer citizens will be unhappy as this often causes the drains to overflow with sad results.  Leaves from trees tend to block drains and no-one cares until it is too late.  
As long and thunder & lightning stay away I am happy enough in here.  Mind you I burnt the dinner again....

Oh and I've just discovered I had the window wide open through in the west wing!  TSK!

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Lazy Post

But funny.
Sophisticated satire on PR during the days of Tony Blair.

A Day in the Life

This is the view I am forced to endure at the moment, except that at the moment it is obscured by the rain belting down.  This rain is I understand the remnants of yet another American hurricane that they send us regularly in an effort to increase the numbers of road accidents from English drivers failing to note the rain that blocks their view from their windscreen.  Quite how so many appear ignorant of rains ability to make roads slippery, especially when leaves are beginning to fall onto them, or that it takes longer to stop when on wet roads amazes me.  It is amazing the police who have just asked people to open their eyes.  I am told 'El Ninio' or whatever it's called on the far side of the Americas is promising to send us the worst winter since 1962/3 when it was horrid, I canny say I am looking forward to that!  Anyone got a bolthole in Portugal they don't use...?

 

This stuff, and the honey, is rapidly running out.  It appears the 'Hot Toddy' is something to be taken occasionally and not consistently as I had misread.  Ah well I will not require any more after tonight as healing is with us and soon I will be outside again.  How can such a small thing interfere with life so much?  How can people indicate that 'dribbling' is not a new thing for me in such a sarcastic manner?  The whole museum has suffered with this and I suspect it began with one of the kids during the summer.  Bah!  At least they have to go to school in the rain!

 

Islington Gazette 

 

Jeremy Corbyn had an excellent start to his public duties during Prime Ministers Question Time (PMQs) today.  By asking questions sent in by the public and mentioning their names he forced the Prime Minister to answer the question and avoid insulting the questioner, he cannot insult the public, at least in public anyway.   Corbyns attempt to have a better PMQs by speaking quietly and avoiding the childish nonsnes also worked as the PM found this difficult.  Indeed Cameron lost it when asked a reasonable question by the Scottish Nationalist Leader in the House and replied in his usual blustering arrogant Eton Prefect style to be put down very well by the SNP leader.  A good start by Corbyn although one woman asked if this meant he could not respond to the PMs answers this way, I see it as possible and if he can keep the PM acting like a decent chap he will all too often see this breaking down to Corbyns advantage.  The PM will react in fury and look bad on PMQs, this is the only parliament most people actually watch so it is important. 

       

The rain started hours ago and has continued non stop since.  There is nothing for it but to stop a passing jet and run off to the Riviera for a few days.  Anyone coming with me...?

   

Monday Dullness

It's been that sort of day.
I could have fussed over the make up of the new Labour shadow cabinet.  I could have read all the papers created by middle class white men asking why the new shadow cabinet is made up of middle class white man and no women.  I am told Victoria Derbyshire had a panel of five women discussing why the shadow cabinet did not contain women!  Irony is not her thing.  One wonders how she got her job?  The fuss over whether there are women in the cabinet or not ignores whether they can do the job!  None suggest that any of them have a talent, the few that do actually have a job there but are ignored by the female critics who I suspect could not do the job either.
The fuss over Germany closing its borders to more 'refugees' I ignored, the hassle from Jose Mourino losing his cool as his team Chelsea lost again made me titter but then I let it lie.  No doubt many other serious and important pieces of pap flashed across the news today but I missed them.  It made not a bit of difference.
I did add a piece of research on the non local service folks buried in the cemetery and spent far too long looking for the info.  That filled my afternoon and in the end was of no interest to anyone anywhere in the entire world.  Still it kept me off the streets that I was keeping off anyway as I suffered alone with no nurse to care for me.   

Sniffling

Sniffling forced me to remain indoors all day today, suffering but not complaining!  I wish I had stayed in yesterday also as I was washed out afterwards.  Nothing much happened today although the Tory press appear transfixed with the new Labour leader.
Jeremy Corbyn, another middle class left winger now has the leadership and is forming his policies as we speak.  What these will be and whether any will work is debatable, but what we have now is unacceptable and what was opposed to it was too similar to be acceptable.  
For too long the Labour Party has sought the middle ground simply to get elected.  In doing this they forgot the people who they were supposed to represent.  'Class structure' is not what it was in the UK but the large middle class vote tend to go for the Tories as they fear Labour will steal their cash.  These are the same people who pay through the nose for gas & electric, plus water, and commute by rail murmuring about the privatised prices charged.  Will they never learn?
Certainly the Tory papers, the Daily Mail, Telegraph and Sun, will be attacking Labour now with tales off woe and despair, infighting and fear.  The fear of course is that he challenges their position on all things and people will soon realise this government is destroying not building a nation!

 

 Of course it could be worse....

Ah yes, thanks for reminding me, I need to put some honey in my Hot Toddy, this local stuff will do the trick, G'night all...

Drinking Saturday Away

Today was 'heritage Day' a day in which museums everywhere were open and entrance was FREE!
Foolishly I accepted the request to arrive when I would have preferred to lie about the house wasting away for a change.  Many people arrived, some for the last day of the WW2 exhibition and many just because it was free.  A few even spent money!  
What an opportunity to see museums, houses and historical buildings, many rarely open to the public, for free and often with a guided tour.  So many places were open today I wish I had been elsewhere.  Sadly too few people knew about these open days and I had to drag some unwilling folks into the building.  They were all grateful when they left I must say as a museum, especially regarding your own history, is a fascinating place, a place to bring back memories and reminisce.     
I am zonked and asleep with an hot toddy in my hand, I bet I spill it...

Before Breakfast...

Long before seven this morning I trundled the bike up part of the old railway to look at the mist hovering over the land.  Even most dog walkers were still abed which indicates the chill in the morning.  The sun was dissipating the mist as I arrived, low lying clouds lay like an Edinburgh Haar over parts.  

To think a developer now wishes to plant several hundred houses here (plus GP etc) and the farmer is very keen to sell.  A couple of years ago similar plans for 500 houses were turned down after a long campaign, I suspect similar to arise now.  This is a wonderful natural spot, well cared for by the Park Rangers and so many houses will ruin it.  With this grasping governments attitude 'build and be damned' and a desperate need for housing this one may get some homes built.  There again maybe there is not so much need for housing after all, maybe stopping greedy Russians and Chines buying all of Central London and raising the cost of houses would enable Brits to obtain one already built?
Maybe encouraging people not to divorce might keep families together, support marriage rather than destroy it, tell single women to find their own accommodation when they have a baby rather than use council ones.  All such ideas will not get votes but could improve society.
We are being forced apart by the spirit of the air.  Independence and not community is the bias in the airways.  Self rights are more important than society duty, me first, and let others hang is the way.  Today parliament debate the 'assisted suicide bill.'  This is to allow people who wish to die to do so.  To many consider this a 'right' and others from compassion think it a good idea.  I remind them of the woman today who has been found to have written a note from her husband claiming he wished not to be revived, and she had poisoned him and written the note herself.  'Assisted suicide' is an excellent way to remove ageing or sick family members, especially if there is money to be found in the will.  I await their deliberations tonight.

I exchanged s few friendly words with one young lass as I grasped the camera expectantly noticing her dog, a golden retriever, wandering in and out of the wet grasses that abounded today.  I was glad I did not have to wash the beast when I got home, and she had another somewhere about also.  As I turned for home, my knees requesting this, I noticed this figure heading towards me.  She had the right idea, cycle alongside the dog, it makes him run faster and enables you to get home quicker! A not unusual idea and worth considering as the dog and you benefit.  Unless you fall off obviously!

   
High above holiday makers and a few business people headed elsewhere.  This may have been an inland flight to Edinburgh or Belfast possibly but it may well have had a European airport in its sights.  No-one appeared to wave from the window.   The thought that this seven in the morning take off meant the travellers probably left home at midnight or three in the morning to get to Stansted for the flight shows the problems re air travel today.  The flight to Edinburgh takes an hour, the preparation for take off three!  I may just cycle there next time.

After a massage from the Vietnamese Curry House and Takeaway Massage girls I might feel better however now I think I have been run over by a bus.  They say this makes you fitter, 'they' are not doing it....

Nothing to Crow About.

I walked around the world today, then took a picture of it.  Three days running I have worked, today I went in to help cover for an hour ans was locked in all day/  People not turning up and not calling in are annoying, especially as I need my beauty sleep.  So little staff and too much dumped on one person who I am trying to help, although I keep making mistakes!  Fun today as two lots of kids came through, around 90 altogether, and spent their money after learning about WW2.  Jolly good it was too.  Another busy day, another day of running around hurting my knees, another day of not cycling as I was busy.  Tomorrow I intend to sleep all day!
One group from an old folks home came in, six in all, two cares and four old folks, to wander about or be pushed in their chairs, and reminisce about the past, a distant pass for some.  It was a mixed emotion dealing with them.  One or two had difficulties and we had little time to talk and while that was good I suddenly realised what it might feel like to be old and losing the poser of movement.  One man in particular was carrying a tired body but a good mind.  Illness has hurt him but he still had things to say if we could have time with him.  It sent a cold stab through me to think I might end up like that in 25 years.  The mind alert but the body not working as it did once. 

  
The good thing about working so much is that I can ignore the press. A scan through the papers puts me off looking any deeper, the people change but the stories do not, and I feel none the worse for being none the wiser.  What I have noted is not good but worse will come, the world is a bad place, it always has been, but our part can be made better by ourselves making it so.  

No Post...

Back to Normal

How nice to see the museum back to normal, short staffed, awkward questions, disappointed visitors, no-one making my tea, only one sale, heavy boxes to lift, my chocolate robbed, and having to look through 800 wedding photographs.
Not a child in sight, how quiet and tidy the place appears once it has been tidied up!  I did spend some time cleaning paint of one or two tables, the result of arts and crafts last week, that was required as the tables will be used for tea and biscuits by some group or other.  Otherwise I spent my time looking for photos and answers to a man's query.  Sadly there are no photographs of his street, little information and less to go on.  It just shows that we need to take pictures of our locale and place them where they are required, the local museum, for further investigation in years to come.  That is a hint by the way...
Tomorrow and Thursday I will spend time there again.  Where are all the volunteers these days?  At least in the morning I will make use of the bike, a massage may be needed later if anyone is around. Well if that's your attitude....

Once upon a time such as these were kept in 'Doocots' for use as meat during the long winters.  Where I was raised the 'Big Hoose' at the back on whose land our estate was built in the early fifties possessed one not far from us.  As kids we regarded it as some sort of witches house or a place to find rats.  In fact it was just an empty shell slowly disintegrating.  It still stands but I reckon it has now been roped off by H&S for safety.  I think these boys taking the sun early the other morning would not be as healthy as birds feeding on the one time fields of northern Edinburgh.  

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A Day Trip

In Camolodunum again today, I travel the world you know, I discovered a church building I had passed but ignored for some reason.  This lay behind the Roman wall, note the red bricks and the construction of the wall, solidly built to ensure no more Boudica's attacked and burnt the place down again.  Amazing to see these walls, ignored by most through walking past them daily, these solid walls were erected in the first century and stand proud, if not beautifully, today.

This was the first time I had noticed St Mary's by the Wall, and naturally I first took a picture of the once elegant door.  It is likely a Saxon church once stood here, the Norman's liked to build stone churches where old wooden ones once stood, and this one dates back to the 1200's.   You can see the lack of respect for history as the lower walls are built using portions of the Roman wall!  The tower above is probably the only remaining original portion, the church was rebuilt in the 1700's and many unreadable tombstones stand there some from that date as far as I could make out.

During the English Civil War, which imperiously included invading Scotland by the Margaret Thatcher of the day, one Oliver Cromwell, the church was used for defence by the Royalist side as Colchester opposed Cromwell and the Parliamentarians.  Whether the people had a choice is not noted!  A man named as Thomson set up his gun there and directed fire on the besiegers until the many returning cannonballs brought him and the tower down.  The top of the tower has been renovated with red brick and shows in between the remaining Roman bits.

I wondered a bit about the sign above the door.  What kind of church is this that has a licence for booze?  A Catholic one looking after the priests?  An Anglican one with a thirsty vicar?  In fact it is a redundant building now used as the Colchester Arts Centre.  I didn't go in.  There may have been a chance to look around but I considered they may have an 'art' exhibition on and I would possibly express my opinion, and I don't like losing new friends...

The graveyard is a bit of a mess in truth, this was one of the better graves established in 1797 but imaginatively I forgot to check the name.  They clearly were important enough to have a block of stone and iron railings around their tomb.  Most of the others must have dated that far back, the town must have been on the up during the 1700's and wealth flowing in the right places, but the place is a sad site now.  Only one drinker was found there today and we shared a couple of words but clearly many more waste their lives here.  How sad is that?

 On the way to the bus driven by a man unsure of the braking capabilities on offer I once again was impressed by the war memorial.  This angelic creature is a magnificent example of war memorial of the time.  Totally ridiculous regarding the conflict but like many others a magnificent creation.  What soldiers thought I know not, but less was spent on wounded men's care than on this!

 

On the way home I bought two appropriate inner tubes for future use!  No fool me!  This time I spoke to someone who knows about bikes, and recognises an idiot also.  This shop ought to be nearer home I say!

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Morning Wander

This bright yellow thing hung above the trees this morning trying to pretend it was summer. Nobody was fooled.  We have too deep an ingrained cynicism to be fooled by the big yellow thing pretending it is hot when we all know it is warmer at the North Pole than here on some days when it shows.  We still walk out in it, men in shorts trying to impress their girl and cleverer men in thick jackets like me!  

The Bocking Windmill is one of the many in East Anglia, some which actually work, and may open during the year to visitors keen to climb about in them.  I find them a wee bit boring myself but from the history point of view Mr Miller made a lot of money and was in an important position in his world.  Each village required at least one mill of some sort or other as flour was the basic requirement for the daily bread and a local mill was important. On occasion this one opens to visitors, but rarely as far as I can see.  My boss has the key and he controls the thing but not enough wish to visit to make it worth opening more.  I doubt we will ever see flour coming from there.  The one we saw long ago in Woodbridge worked well enough selling its own flour to all who had a desire to bake.

If I remember right these are 'Teezles.'  These were, and probably still are, used by weavers and cloth people to 'fluff up' cloth.  There were a few of them growing wild around this green area today, whether these grow in the far east where most of our cloth comes from now I know not so how do they 'fluff' their cloth I wonder?  We could gather them and sell them on I suppose.

Now that September has arrived we will at last be free from people talking about cricket surely? The local clubs entrance looks a wee bit tired today, a bit like the local clubs players I suspect.  I have no idea if they are any good, I don't read the local paper, and only when passing do I see men of varied physical shape throwing the ball around or standing talking to themselves in distant corners of the ground.  They could be the second XI I suppose.

Sad Saturday

In more time than it took to build the Forth Bridge I have fixed the puncture!  Indeed there is the proof!  The tale of missing spanners (that's wrench to you), wrong inner tunes, crass stupidity, trips to cycle shops, swear words even I had never heard before, and a new tyre at last it appears to be done.  I certainly have been.  In times past when I had a puncture I removed the old inner tube, inserted an awaiting good one and moved on, fixing the puncture in my own time.  This saga has filled my weary life for an eon, I just hope it is not flat in the morning or I may say something about it...
On the journey to the cycle shop by the free bus amongst a thousand kids going shopping for shiny things I cogitated on the drivers of this bus.  The journey lasts about two or three minutes depending on traffic, leaving from either stop about every twenty minutes.  The first driver appeared to have difficulty understanding the clutch, brakes and the accelerator.  The second, and the third, found it easy when parking to hit the raised pavement that enables prams and wheelchairs to climb aboard.  Today the man was so fat it was clear he had never used a Hula Hoop and his cheerless approach to the job implied he once drove buses in London.  Saturday traffic and the people he met may have hand a hand in his attitude.  Driving back and forth for a few hours may be enjoyable during the quieter periods but with millions of kids around I suspect it is less attractive.  They are all back next week to school, everyone, bar teachers, cheers!  
Today has not been good in many ways.  My technical incompetence has been a pain, even turning on the TV made it reboot itself, searching for all the channels and taking all day about it.  I lost a small cap and found it in a box, it took four attempts before I could get it out!  At Halfords as I paid for my treasure the machine printing the receipt gave up!  Just being me ruins things.  Oh yes, the cooker over light has failed also. And there was no football to speak off today.  I'm scared to switch the kettle on these days.

Tomorrow I will pray a lot harder, maybe if I spend more time with Jesus life will be more enjoyable than it has been lately. There again maybe if I had spent more time with him it would not be such a mess.  

 

Fun Friday, Bah!

This rain grubby window sums up today.  
The tired feeling arrived last week and has hung around, the past two days have been a pain.  Add to that the journey to fix the bike, and after finally fixing it I have just found the new tyre stinking the place with rubber aroma has once again gone down.  Ogh I am so happy!
I had bought two new inner tubes and both were the wrong type, they were for mountain bikes, not road ones.  The tyre fits mind and now I am staring through the grubby window forgetting all about it till next week.

There has of course been a lot of talk recently re migrants/refugees depending on your stance in the news recently.  I have avoided most of the reports.  The sight of a child lying drowned on a beach was too much to look at and the confusing loud voices telling everyone what to do helps no-one.  
Here we find Europe overflowing with people attempting to enter one or other of the nations.  Many come from war zones such as Iraq and Syria, others from despotic nations like Eritrea, still others just wish to enter Europe to find a better life.
In amongst all the noise I find myself with no easy answer to all this.
Many simple answers have been heard this week, one says let them all come, the other send them all back, neither are correct.  It is right to help refugees, Europe however expects them to be somewhere far away like the Middle East or Africa rather than at their doorstep.  Should we keep the refugees and return the migrants who want a better life and how do you tell one from another?
The laws of various states, let alone European law does not help here especially when so many nations ignore the law while struggling to cope with thousands who arrive daily.  
The UK government has been awfully quiet and rightly so.  For years the Conservative Party have had their lackeys in the media offering propaganda which stresses the danger of 'swarms of migrants' coming into England (note, not UK but England as that is where the 'British' Tory vote lies) and people, even those of keen brain, have swallowed this propaganda and believe we are being replaced by a new nation of foreigners.  Such lies keep the Tories in power, no wonder they say little about this problem.
Nothing was said for a while and now David Cameron who, believe it or not, is actually Prime Minister, did mutter something about taking some refugees (not migrants) and other lying words.  No numbers were given.  Germany is taking considerably more than we but that matters not as the lie also claims the UK is awash with Eastern Europeans taking all our jobs, living on the dole, begging on the streets, so we must not take even more from elsewhere.  Hmmm, many from Poland stay a year or two and return home money in wallet, the beggars tend to be from south east Europe, Romanians mostly and for them this it must be said, is a way of life.
So what to do?
One answer would be to deal with the terrors back home.  Encourage Saudia Arabia and Quatar to stop paying for the fighters in Syria and Isis in Iraq.  This could be troublesome as they have oil and money both of which are important to this country, especially this government.  Eritrea has a despot, he could easily be overthrown, why not?  Because he has no oil, in fact they have no nothing as far as I can see so the west cares not yet thousands from there come to Europe.  Nothing will be done to upset those paying for Middle Eats fights, Eritrea will be ignored like Darfur now is, remember that?  Afghans and others strive to come here, those who worked as translators wish to enter the UK but this government refuses them permission even though many friends of our army have been shot!  Other madmen have been allowed to remain according to their 'human rights' even if they were murderers or rapists, why not interpreters?
This is a confusing situation, no country wishes to make decisions, nobody really has a clue what to do, yet all around the cry is keep them or send them back and all the while people die or live rough.
What a situation.

During Victorian times when the police force was just beginning there was no established police station in the town.  Pubs in the Braintree centre were numerous, as were 'beer shops,' not pubs but places to buy beer, several such were found in this town.  With long hours of work, cold houses, possibly colder wives, many made their way to such establishments for food and drink.  Down New Street, imaginatively named after it was  created, stood four pubs that we know off.  There was the 'Three Tuns,' 'The George' and the 'Green man.'  These were known as 'Little Hell,' 'Big Hell' and 'Perdition' by the folks of the town!  This indicates problems at closing time, and indeed all other times, with the gentlemen and ladies who inhabited these places.  The fourth pub did not have such a nickname and I have forgotten its name, 'The Angel' perhaps?  
As a result of the problems with drunks the 'cage' was erected in 1840 to cater for those whose indiscretions merited a place to sleep it off.  Each parish council required to have such a 'cage' which explains so many 'Cage Streets' etc to be found in villages and towns.  This one has two cells, about six feet long, each with a bed of sorts along one side, the cell may have been designed for one but I suspect had more on Saturday nights.  No doubt most who entered pubs, like today, behaved themselves reasonably well (does any drunk behave reasonably?) and bigger families with many working could rent better housing and avoid the need to dwell late in such pubs.  These places at least were warm, offered company, entertainment often ( Music Hall grew out of these) and cleaned the throats of men working in local foundries where dust in the air was part of the job.
The cage was still used until 1875 even though a decent police station then stood in the town.  Now demolished and replaced by a 'Peel Crescent!'  The police developed over the years and now their hulking great station sits behind my head, all too often we hear their sirens at just the wrong moment, and I wonder if they actually have less officers on the beat now than then!   They all use cars today, George Osborne's 'austerity' has taken beat officers of the beat and allowed many crimes to flourish.  
The 'Cage' has been used by the militia once the drunks were removed, to store weapons and ammunition, and has lain empty for many years preserved by the local Civic Society.  Most do not even know of its existence, yet many had a relative who could tell them what the inside looked like before 1875!

One Man & His Bike

Amazon

The other day I mentioned the need to acquire a new 'Can't put down book' and soon afterwards had several in my possession.  This was indeed one of those 'can't put down books,'  "One Man and His Bike."  The story concerns a Guardian travel writer with problems, (I spelt Guardian wrong, that's irony) and he works through these by accident while cycling around the coast of the entire United Kingdom.  This is the type of book I like, it covers places I know or would like to know, the type of people and situations I have known and would like to or not like to know, and takes me out of the world around me and into a far flung land at least for a time.  It also makes me want to get on the bike, when fixed, and travel down country lanes enjoying the quiet sun filled backwaters.  It also makes me wish to write a similar but different version of the book.  One of these is possible...

The book is unputdownable!  Divided into relatively short chapters rather than a long slog Mike Carter cycles off traveling through Essex keeping the Thames and later the sea on his right and the land on his left.  Here we find his first surprises, London and all large cities are full of grumpy miserable people yet before he has passed out of the conurbation he is given a map book by a friendly Asian shopkeeper, something that did not surprise me but did him, as he learned here that not all in London are gits, just the majority.  His second surprise is the vast difference that appears when out of the metropolis.  Another world awaits just a few grossly overcrowded roads away from the M25 circular.  Mike was to learn from his travels just how kind people in this island can be and just how wonderful the island is outside of the city.  

Mike cycles for a total of five months camping or staying in bed and breakfast places, his descriptions of the people encountered ring a bell with anyone who has passed this way before.  The dragon at one camp and the off hand kindness at another, the B&B's with friendly hosts as they all appear to be and the people he meets on the way who become friends overnight.  Indeed the people he meets are as important as the coast itself.  His descriptions of the land and the conversations of the people made me wish to travel out and meet similar, but we can all do that daily nearer home I suspect.  After all I have met you on here and that has been good for me in similar manner.  

Occasionally he meets with rebuff, indeed slight violence, but the majority of the time and people are good to him.  His problems with the bike required help from occasional bike shops but these allowed him to delay and consider the place in which he stopped.  The sight was not always good.  The collapsed towns where Thatcherism had removed the old industries reeked of decay, even worse nobody appeared to do anything about it.  It brought to my mind Cowdenbeath during the General Strike, both then and afterwards the vast majority made the best of it, no vandalism, no graffiti or smashing empty homes, instead the men grew veg for the pot and people worked together, I found myself asking why can they not do this now?  His meeting later in his journey while in Wales with the 'DO' conference made a very different impression, that was worth reading.   

So much of the west is wealthy, and many middle class towns with Couscous and Adoki beans for lunch rather than chips, incense from shop doorways and Laura Ashley dresses came under his wheels, in some the Guardian man felt at home seeing there a vivaciousness where I would have seen people far from the real world.  The contrast throughout the book reveals Britain as it is today in a manner those passing through in a car or train would fail to notice.  When his bike fails he struggles get a bus into a town with a bike shop, deregulation means several bus companies but each travelling at limited times.  A journey to Castle Douglas and then Dumfries to the bike  shop takes 13 hours, he could have ridden in an hour - if the bike was fixed.  Thatchers legacy is everywhere.

Others come into the picture, the many he passes riding from Land's End to John O'Groats, others like himself riding around the coast, one great man in his seventies and faster than Mike! Characters all who bring the trip to life and who encourage the cyclist on his way.  I was going to say weary but his weariness came as he became fitter by the day, my weariness is unlike his!  Cafe owners, cyclists, B&B folks, camp site owners, all had a story, all covered life, almost all were good to the passing cyclist. Such travellers find temporary friends everywhere,  could we find them if we were more permanent I wonder?

This is a great book!  It is enjoyable, covers a lot of ground, several thousand changing miles, takes us out of ourselves into other worlds and other lives, reveals the beauty of the land and at times the beauty of the people.  It affected the rider, changed his life for the better, it might change you also.  Read this book if you like travel writing, it's worth it.   

Another Day of Joy...

 

As my technical abilities are way beneath my intellectual ones you can gather I am in quite a fix at the moment.  With a day or two to myself, although I almost had to work today and might tomorrow, I intended to fix some of the broken bits.  "Life is what happens to you when you are making other plans" sang John Lennon and he is right.

I brought the wheel up to fix the puncture, then I began to seek my grandfather and his first wife through Ancestry.  This meant I forgot the bike, except when I fell over the wheel, until today.  So I removed the tyre, pulled out the inner tube, discovered the puncture in a strange place and checked the tyre.  No wonder I got a puncture where there ought not to be a puncture, the tyre is falling apart, I thought it felt thin!  Anyway I reached for the new inner tube I was going to insert, then fix the punctured one as a spare, when I realised the new one had one of those 'Shrader' car type valves, eejit!  I took action, I dumped the lot and will visit Halfords tomorrow, it was too late today.

The other jobs, let alone the ironing and the trip to somewhere nice, must wait.

So it was back to granddad and his missing children.

He was born on a farm and ended up driving steam trains by the 1880's.  He also drank and this cost him his two marriages.  Plenty of kids from the first one, three from the second, from which I come somewhere down the line.  

I have found it difficult using both ancestry and Scotlands People to find any trace of some of them.  One poor lass is born in 1891 and disappears, I don't think she lived long but she might have gone to relatives in Newcastle with an older sister. Travel would be cheap as I think railway families went free and the journey would not be long.  One man is found in the Royal Naval Reserve but I have yet to get his record, another becomes a jeweler in Cheshire and his sister joins him later but what happens after that?  One daughter marries well, he had money, but she appears to die at 45 sadly.  So many stories but so hard to uncover.

There is a problem in that dad never spoke of his father, or at least so rarely I canny mind anything he said.  His mother moving them out affected him in that he determined to be a good father and look after his family, which he did and at some cost.  Not that I understood that for any years.  

Naturally I got involved in this and suffered yet another burnt dinner.

So tomorrow I may be working, i may be in Halfords and I may be grumbling on genealogy sites!

Summer Drizzle

Stupidity some say is inbuilt.  I disagree.  Stupidity of a sort is inbuilt, with slow thinking, inability to consider all options, a lack of concentration or care but this is not enough!  Oh no I can assure you this is not enough!  I inherited the family trait of stupidity but this was not early enough to enable me to fail so spectacularly as I have down through the years, oh no, I had to work at it and work hard.  Anyone can make it through life by being stupid, only those who practice can manage to grasp the wrong end off an electric cable, spray an aerosol on a fire or look down the barrel of a gun to work out why it was jammed -then pull the trigger.  These things take practice.

Anyway I have not down these things, recently anyway, but I did run about the town looking for tools for the bike and fail to find them.  This morning, as the Bank Holiday rain teemed down, I got myself ready to travel on the free bus to Halfords to spend money.  As I did so it crossed my mind there was a yellow tub with bike things somewhere under everything else, so I took a look.  Inside I found the yellow box filled with bike bits.  There was no tool to turn the nut however, that remained missing.  However removing from the box I discovered a mass of small items that once had a purpose and many that had been used once and forgotten, among which was a double headed spanner for turning wheelnuts on bikes!  This had disappeared an eon ago and now I knew why.  That said I still journeyed down to Halfords on the bus in spite of the now drizzle like weather.  A cloud lay over us, hovering just above the tops of lamposts drizzling on those who dared to walk out.

A wander through Halfords, being ignored by the surly chap playing with a very expensive bike, this revealed the tools I might need in any off a hundred situations if I was cycling far, not that I will be these days.  I bought nothing as I could not remember the size of inner tubes I need or much else about the bike.  Technical things were designed only to expose my stupidity.  At least I now know where to find things, the local shops being useless.

I wandered through the shopping centre, famous for the 'outlet shops' those who sell the stuff proper shops failed to sell, and was struck by the prices on offer.  Barbour for instance sell jackets worth £250 for £179, shoes retail at prices well upwards of £80 and more, other shops know suckers when they see them and even that early in the morning, drizzle or not, the place was full of families seeking goodies!

Yet did I see a happy face?  No I did not!

There are people in the UK who depend on foodbanks, there are many striving to survive on disability allowance or some other meagre benefit, always considered 'scroungers' by the 'Daily mail' and other Tory media.  Yet there is vast wealth in the UK and that could be seen by the cars queuing up to get in the car parks, the fat men bulging through their T-shirts (English men in shorts & T-shirts in spite of the damp!), and the miserable people buying things they do not need. 

Wealth makes us happy. That is, if we have enough we can be satisfied but always and ever there is something else we MUST HAVE even if it really is just a shiny thing that passes in a moment.  The eye sees more than the stomach requires, but we go for it anyway.  Our houses are full of things, things which have not been used for years perhaps, items that cost loads yet we never use, now we complain we have no money!  

Having endured a long period of pauperism, missing out on Christmas, travel, holidays, and new things I now find myself with a bit more in my new state of mere poverty.  The temptation to buy things because I can was real today, as was the sickening feeling when too many things are bought.  What I need, and there are many requirements that must be met, are not the same as what I find I must have.  Things for the bike were required, books I bought were more or less required, the jacket was required but did I need to consider that thing I pondered on this morning (a thing that I cannot now remember what it was!)?  The money was there so the object became important.  Maybe we have too much money floating around, maybe we would be happier if we wanted less and spent less?  People smile more in India and Africa so I am told, what does that tell us if true?

Meanwhile...

     

 Summer continues as it has always done...