Summer, Rain and Old Man

Summer is with us, I can tell by the rain!
I have an old tape of a series of 15 minute programmes re King George V diaries.  These cover 1914 and the year leading up to war.  In all he details the weather first, he was after trained by the Royal Navy and weather watching comes natural to those working outside let alone at sea.  From January right into July his comments almost always feature cold winds and rain!  On occasions it is warm enough to set up the tent and work outside in the garden but even by July 22nd he is complaining of 'Rain again' and 'You would not believe it was July.'  
When war erupts (the UK war began on 4th July) the weather was lovely and people had a days holiday to scamper down to the s ea or head for country pubs.  On returning they discovered they were at war.  No doubt it rained again after that.
Now being officially old I had to confirm my details with the local council and posted the details in their letterbox this afternoon.  I then walked in the cloudy sunshine around town looking for bargains and got caught in the rain.  Innit though? 
The details posted show I am now officially too old for anything but voting Conservative and visiting the 'Derby & Joan' club.  For the past 15 years I have however been officially able to buy one of those retirement properties for the over 50's (not that I have money) and wonder why 50 is still seen as old?  With my good looks people often mistake me for someone in his twenties (oh yes they do) and I am amazed at the aged faces around me who are considerably younger and often more unfit.
One postie I have known for about 15 years has always looked to be on the verge of retirement yet she is still not of that age!  Incredible!  Next door the two folks I once thought had retired are only around 55!  They look much older but I suppose that much alcohol can have that effect.  In the museum we allow old people to enter at half price and on occasion I have to guess carefully what the age is, it is not easy to tell.  I have got into trouble once or twice this way unsettling a woman or two who was touchy about her years.  Most of course are happy for me to argue they are only 39 and chancing it.
There are times in your life when age matters.  Being a teenager, reaching 18 and officially allowed in pubs or to drive or whatever you have been banned from until then, although in other nations the age may differ of course.  Waking up one day and realising you are the age you always considered 'old' or 'Granddaddyish' and realising you are now old is another!  Now I have reached 65 and the paperwork says 'You are now useless, just death to come, please move quickly to Bournemouth or Eastbourne.'  Rejoice!  Rejoice! 

Star Wars Day

Tuesday saw the museum graced by the gracious visit of Lord Darth Vader, some Storm Troopers and a few of his friends and enemies (you name them I couldn't without a nine year old to help me)  from the Star Wars films.  He towered amongst us making strange noises and as far as we know managed not to kill anybody.  Kylo Ren, another baddie however I managed not to mention that word in his presence, stands next to him while Chewbacca hid indoors at the time.  Also there in attendance were two men who played Storm Troopers and other parts in the original movie, they sold many signed pictures of themselves and spoke to a great number off their experiences in making the film.  I wish I had time to listen in!  

This was the busiest day I can remember.  It began before the doors opened and families, granddad and child, single individuals and friends piled in through the doors long before the actors had got their outfits out of the vehicles.  On top of that we had a Jedi Training class for 5-11 year old's, Light Sabres supplied I think though many brought their own.  As always a dozen or so arrived not having booked and luckily several who had did not turn up so all was well.  The shop was crowded with mums and kids ready to scream with disappointment or glee for quite a while while that was sorted out.  It was non stop all day until about three in the afternoon.

 Kylo Ren, he has the 'force.'

The morning flew by with piles of money coming in to pay for it all and lots of dads claiming to come 'for the kids' but we all knew better.  The T-shirts bearing pictures of Darth Vader and the legend 'I am your father' kind of gave it away.  We were short of £1 coins and while we scraped them up from here there and everywhere the boss went to the bank for £20s worth. (It is hard to get change from banks these days), later he went and got £100 worth but as folks offered £10 & £20 notes they were running out by days end.  My shop boss was working herself into the ground on the till so I did the gentlemanly thing and let her.

It is only when you see Chewbacca in the er, flesh that you realise how tall he is.  This huge gentle giant towered over the kids, many of whom ran when he approached, as indeed did the adults!  One lad, himself dressed as a Storm Trooper, was encouraged to be photographed with Chewie.  He was extremely apprehensive and backed off.  Chewie, in kindness reached out his hand towards the lad and he almost ran for the door.  Mum eventually persuaded him to pose but he was not keen.  Chewie was, like all of them, great with kids.  They all posed for pictures with young and old and answered questions if they could, if they could speak that is, and dressed in those fabulous costumes with a high temperature outside and in it must have been very hard for them as it was steaming indoors!  We were struggling all day, sweat lashing from us and these guys did a great job.

Even Sand creatures and , er...the other one, need to sit down and admire the view now and again.  The Sand Creature had a lad playing around near him so he banged his weapon on the floor sharply and the kid took off quick time.  A great laugh for everyone.  I wonder if the kid has come down from that ledge yet...?

This was the moment our wee Storm Trooper was waiting for.  The Troopers had gone in for a cup of tea and a flapjack to keep them going but came out early just for him.  He was desperate to see them and compare notes.  He tapped their hard defensive armour so they tapped his, it was not quite so strong.  he loved it and these two Storm Troopers were great with him and all others.  Any camera pointed towards them and a suitable pose was adopted immediately, great stuff.  This wee chap will spend another seven weeks on holiday but when he returns to school his 'What I did on holiday' will begin with 'I met Storm troopers!'  That is what such days are for.

The Sand Creature is he one on the right, the other creature might be one of the hideous beasts from a new film.  Oh hold on that's John who volunteers here, my mistake.  There is one out now, Number 7 possibly and another 'one off' arrives in December, then next year Number 8 appears.  Ten new films in all producing amazing creatures with strange weapons and vast talents yet the main characters fight with laser swords!!!  

The chap from a local shop took a desk and sold quite a number of items.  I was glad as sometime these 'pop-up shops' fall flat but he said he had done well, good for him!  I wish I had bought something now!  Being one who ignores such stuff I am now finding I wish to know more.  Good grief does this mean I am becoming a Jedi!!!!

Alan Flyng had part in two of the first three films and had a constant stream of folks questioning him while he signed their pictures.  His site tells something of the joys of film making and the other aspects of his life.  Well worth a read for the Jedi viewer.  I forget the name of the other chap who is seen second picture in however I suspect any site of his it would read in similar fashion.

A day enjoyed by all and profitable for the museum, once we have paid for this lot of course.  It is expensive but brings the museum to peoples attention, the kids will not forget this.  The whole set up is run by a 'Mr Luke Skywalker' who provides us with the characters and various other items.  It is his collection and yesterday it worked very well.  The best day the museum has had for a long time.  Of course not much actual history but enough historical items round about for the interested to notice.

Little Hell, Great Hell & Damnation.

 What was the George Inn on the left and the Three Tuns on the right.

The bad reputation earned by New Street during the 19th century was a real one.  With great foundries producing metal items, a great many employed in agriculture around the town the centre attracted many men with money to spend into the public houses.  

This is not something to sneer at, many lived in accommodation which was far from ideal, often with families with several children and as is the way with many the attraction of drink in a war, gas lit, public house with in some places no women and others with plenty and an idea that the money they earned was theirs to spend pubs became their home.  

Single men, especially the young, have little concern for anything but fun as they have no obvious responsibilities and little sense.  Public houses became a place to find entertainment and fun from the friends with whom you may have spent a hard ten or twelve hour day.

The result was many of the towns pubs became places to avoid.

 Green Man

The 'Three Tuns' was as far as I can make out glancing at these books the 'Little Hell' of the piece.  This stood opposite a fourth drinking den called the 'White Horse.'  The 'George Inn' becoming 'Great Hell' and this delightful pink house, now used for respectable occupations was the 'Green Man,' the 'green man' being one of the pagan beliefs of times past or possibly referring to the many foresters dressed in green, Robin Hood' style to blend in with their surroundings.  Essex was once covered with forests.  This pleasant place was I believe 'Damnation.'

 Cage

Just down from the 'green Man' stands the 'Cage.'  Most towns and villages had one of these for the local constable to lock up for the night any drunks who pushed their luck or any criminal caught pushing someone else's.  Many a drunk took one of the two cells inside just as many a man carrying someone else's chickens home for tea did likewise.
The introduction of what we now call constables arrived in 1829 and soon the town had a proper police station and suitable jail for such peoples, now we have an even better station with a great many less officers staffing it.  Isn't progress wonderful!  It must be said much of their time is spent outside pubs on a Saturday night.
These men, and here I suggest it was mostly men, have long gone, the majority sadly to discover Hell indeed is real and somewhat fewer finding salvation in Christ Jesus and land in a better place.  I wonder what the churches did for these people at the time?  Were they too middle class?  Many men joined the independent non conforming churches and would avoid such places.  But did anyone really speak to the heart of those who made New Street pubs their home?  
Of course not all local men left work and wasted their money in the pub, the majority tried their best for their families and worked hard to improve their lives as was the way in the 19th century.  Personal improvement, 'getting on' to better yourself and your position was common.  The local rich provided schools for kids and an Mechanics Institute for those willing to learn more.  This was common throughout the land and other public houses enabled such men to meet and drink in a more rarefied atmosphere.  
Looking at the paperwork it is surprising how many of these places were run by women.  Sometimes following on from a dead husband, sometimes from the father.  Some pubs were run by the same families for decades.  Now these three are very quiet, long since they were turned into housing or warehouses, long since they worried the constable or irked a wife with little money and a well bashed rolling pin.
The town has lost around fifty pubs in the last hundred years, the majority since the second world war.  After that major industry was threatened and defeated by cheap foreign imports, cinema and then television kept people away from pubs and the attitudes of men changed over the period.  While the majority carried on as normal the wasters were fewer in number and even today the last twenty years has seen a change in attitudes to pub behaviour.  While rowdy areas frighten people and the police are never in enough presence two town centre pubs have failed and one is for sale.  
I doubt those that pour lager down their throats today would consider the old local game of sitting on the floor and spinning round and round like a top.  Apparently this was a popular entertainment among the locals, but appears less so today.  Maybe too many mobile phones now...

Sorry Sunday

Sorry Sunday.
I woke early but very tired.  This all day working is not good for my wizened bones.  I intended to go out but went back to bed until ten!  I spent the rest of the day ignoring the sunshine and stuffing my face or sleeping.  What a way to spend a Sunday.  On top of that there was no football to distract me, it's a disgrace!  I tried five minutes of Formula One but that was boring, the car that gets away first always wins, and I had the 'Tour de France' on for most of the day even though there was nothing to it being already won by the yellow jersey.  At least the views of the countryside were better than anything on other channels.
All this eating less to lose weight is making me ill.  All very well for wee girls not doing much but when you have to work in a museum all day (and listen to a woman talking all day also) it can be hard work.  She tired my mind, that has not recovered.  
Now clouds cover the earth again in what is a normal summer at last.  The temperature is still high but in Kuwait it appears they have hit 54C, that's about 130F in temperature.  Not even they like that!  The end is near!

Nothing to say so here is a 'selfie!'

Pictures

Poke it!

Now look!  Work can be busy enough as it is without folks wandering in asking if we have bloody Pokemon creatures flying about.  So what does the boss do?  She and the rest wander about the garden finding the things and offers half price entry to anyone who finds one!  Now we will be filled on Saturday (when I have to return) with folks pointing their mobiles at corners looking for beasties.
Thankfully today offered none of these but we had the usual granddad with child, other visitors and  rather a lot of strange requests. 
The problem is everyone thinks we will know everything and sadly we don't (even if I pretend I do) and as nobody with knowledge has written a book on this or that we canny supply one can we?
This was added to by a slow talking caller with a request he knew little about!  In short a good day with lots of interest and I even took some cash! 
It is sometimes quite funny when visitors arrive.  We see all sorts and as you can expect many of them are characters of one sort or another.  Next week with the kids on Holiday and our 'Star Wars day' complete with Darth Vader and Stromtroopers we might get a right weird collection coming in!
Anyone up for it?

The heat, much as we love it, has been interfering with the internet.  I understand the copper wiring has not liked it and BT's old fashioned areas have suffered.  Twitter was slow, other things did not connect and I am considering moving too Fibre if I can find the prices.  This country cannot deal with heat, not excessive cold, nor too much rain (I note here they plan to build houses in an area that floods!) and any other weather pattern.  Now the sun has gone and cloud covers us we complain again!  Typical!

Flowers, Football and Fullish Moon

The wee 'I sell anything' shop next door ought to have been doing a roaring trade with his flowers today.  Blazing sun, record temperatures, and near naked sweltering peoples passing by all day.  he may have been better selling cold drinks mind you.
Nothing I like better than blue sky and hot sun.  However as a few weeks ago the thing appeared and I spent a mere 30 minutes burning myself I find my skin has not yet recovered properly.  The sun is far hotter than I thought!  These few days it has been even hotter and most of the time I have avoided it.  Those lying about the park will have problems in days to come.
The main problem is we are not used to it.  Therefore when the sun comes we jump into it and we burn.  In hot societies they avoid the heat of the day and work in the cool times.  This nation is not bright enough for that.  
It is however becoming nearer the norm tomorrow and rain and hail have fallen not far north of here and of course Scotland lies under a cloud again.

What is it about clouds that fascinates me?  Later this afternoon these chaps arrived bubbling up high overhead.  I think it is the sheer size of them, nothing but accumulated moisture I suppose but stretching for thousands of feet up into the air and on occasion reaching for hundreds or thousands of miles into the distance.  I am not one who sees a cloud shaped like the Bank of England then rushes to send a picture to the 'Daily Mail,' in fact I would rather just enjoy watching them pass by.  On my last flight from Edinburgh many years ago the cloud covered quite a large chunk of the voyage and at times there were strange shapes cutting through the cloud for no obvious reason.  This in my little head was fascinating to watch.
I think I may need help....

 

I did sit for ten minutes when some cloud was above us earlier and wondered about those who choose to kick a ball while the majority slumber.  I understood them of course but what went through my mind was the thought in their heads 'I could have made it!'  All the while they of course know they could not but the dream does not die, not even at my age (27).

 

The best effort of this camera cannot improve on this picture of the moon.  The moon needs to come closer but refuses.  I took this the other night when it was somewhat cooler and I was desperate to take a picture of anything different.  This being a small town not much changes and photo opportunities are rare.  The bright weather offers sum but when you have seen everything before the desire is to be further afield.  In fact it would have been good to be in London where Mo manages to get shots like this!  Not possible for me at the moment as I have been clearing out rubbish.  It is incredible what lies in drawers untouched for decades.  Some things date back to the days when I moved here and others are so old they are almost worth sending to the museum.
The recycled folks will be pleased with me on Friday when they collect the stuff however! 

Hurrah! Normality Returns (If that is the right word)

I knew it was a bug that had disturbed my Blogs equilibrium not my incompetence.  All has returned to normal now so I can fill the page with blurred, out of focus, shots of rubbish that you all love, what?... oh!

On Saturday, for reasons that were not apparent, the Royal British Legion were in attendance in the town centre.  Also on parade stood this excellent wee 'Ferret' vehicle once used by the British Army throughout the world.  Owned by a local chap I was interested to see inside of the vehicle as I had seen them around for many years.  
It appears it was not that popular with the gentlemen who once drove them however.  A passing chap indicated he had driven them in Germany during 1970 on the autobahn at 70 miles and hour.  The thing was these boys did not like turning and on corners, being top heavy had an inclination to topple over.  However off road it could at slow speeds take a 45% angle easily!
Some would say this is typical of British Army approach to equipment.

 B&WT

Something strange has been happening recently.  The sun has been shining and has been HOT!  
This is indeed news in a nation used to cold, rain and hail.  
Today, while I sat indoors at the museum, people outside suffered high temperatures, at the moment it is 28%C around 82% F.  This is how it ought to be but as always we are complaining it is too hot, 70% is good enough for the UK population.  Indeed one woman went past using a brolly as a parasol to keep the heat off, something not seen outside of aged photographs!  No doubt it will not last but if it falls to that 70% level I will be happy enough. 
Oh yes, the trains are delayed as the rails are too hot and speeds have been reduced.

This one is good.  Turkey President Erdogan is attacked by a Coup.  The people stand up and halt the coup although many die during it and a round up begins of those who have rebelled against the state.
However it now becomes obvious the President is rounding up all opponents of his reign, not from anger at rebellion, nor from Islamic zeal but just to keep himself in power.  WikiLeaks, those nasty folks that steal secret documents from folks such as he, promises to release thousands and thousands of Turkish emails many implying this 'coup' was staged by the President himself and he was behind it all the time.
Gosh who would have thought...?
Of course having been an Ally of the west for a while he has some room to maneuver and those US bases watching Putin's Russia will prevent the US indicating dislike, or indeed much else at the moment.  
Don't ya just love a dictator?  Come back Ataturk, your country needs you!   

He's getting closer,I wonder if he will reuse any of previous Presidential contenders speeches the way his wife did the other day?  Maybe he can afford to hire scriptwriters or possibly just spout any old rubbish from the lectern as many of his audience will cheer him anyway.

Theresa May 

Talking of problems here our new Prime Minister has finished establishing her right wing government taking time to lie in her teeth to Scotland's First Minister Nicola Sturgeon and revealing the emptiness of her concern for the poorest.  She had said she offered a vision,  "A vision of a country that works not for the privileged few but works for every one of us," yet the new Secretary  of State for the DWP, that's the benefits people, is a Minister who has little concern for the poor having voted against every benefit and voted for every cut to any and all benefits introduced by the previous Dickens character Ian Duncan Smith.  Damian green, for it is he, now has the opportunity to ensure that those with debilitating illnesses, loss of limbs, sickness or death are declared 'fit for work' and their benefits removed from them post haste.  We will see soon whether this woman really wishes to serve the entire nation, maybe we are again 'all in it together?'

We might need this...

 

 

The Saturday Post

I am irked!
That is not the picture I was going to post, that picture posted squashed.
This one will post squashed also but I was experimenting with all the knowledge of someone who knows absolutely nothing and have come up with no answer.
A search of the useless Blogger Help was useless.
Others had similar problems but nothing helped.
See, the pic is squashed, narrowed, elongated and yuk!
Good job it's an old one
The whole Blog is squashed, narrowed and slimmed down.
I have reset to template defaults yet this happens.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

I'm off in a huff.

Delight, Poetry, Painting and Theresa & Boris.

We drinkies from now until Tuesday for me.  I am assured I will not be required at the museum till then, the painting is finished even if I now have a mound of things just lying about like Syrian migrants looking for a home, and I have nothing imposed upon me till Tuesday.
And tonight and tomorrow and Saturday there is football to be perused, proper football featuring Scots teams, none of that foreign rubbish (except for our foreign players that is).
How lovely!

Sir John Everett Millais

When on my way to a BA (failed) via the Open University some years back we began with Victorians society (meaning of course English Victorians Bah!) and pre-raphaelite painting was among the items noted.  One of the paintings that thrust upon me was this one of 'Mariana' by Millais who sounded like one of those immigrants Brexit was supposed to stop.  This was based on a Shakespeare play, 'Measure for Measure' and a Tennyson Poem.  In the play she was awaiting marriage but as her dowry sank in the sea he hopped it and found someone else.  The poem follows:-

 

Mariana

By Alfred, Lord Tennyson

 

"Mariana in the Moated Grange"
(Shakespeare, Measure for Measure) 

With blackest moss the flower-plots

Were thickly crusted, one and all:

The rusted nails fell from the knots

That held the pear to the gable-wall.

The broken sheds look'd sad and strange:

Unlifted was the clinking latch;

Weeded and worn the ancient thatch

Upon the lonely moated grange.

She only said, "My life is dreary,

He cometh not," she said;

She said, "I am aweary, aweary,

I would that I were dead!"

Her tears fell with the dews at even;

Her tears fell ere the dews were dried;

She could not look on the sweet heaven,

Either at morn or eventide.

After the flitting of the bats,

When thickest dark did trance the sky,

She drew her casement-curtain by,

And glanced athwart the glooming flats.

She only said, "The night is dreary,

He cometh not," she said;

She said, "I am aweary, aweary,

I would that I were dead!"

Upon the middle of the night,

Waking she heard the night-fowl crow:

The cock sung out an hour ere light:

From the dark fen the oxen's low

Came to her: without hope of change,

In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn,

Till cold winds woke the gray-eyed morn

About the lonely moated grange.

She only said, "The day is dreary,

He cometh not," she said;

She said, "I am aweary, aweary,

I would that I were dead!"

About a stone-cast from the wall

A sluice with blacken'd waters slept,

And o'er it many, round and small,

The cluster'd marish-mosses crept.

Hard by a poplar shook alway,

All silver-green with gnarled bark:

For leagues no other tree did mark

The level waste, the rounding gray.

She only said, "My life is dreary,

He cometh not," she said;

She said "I am aweary, aweary

I would that I were dead!"

And ever when the moon was low,

And the shrill winds were up and away,

In the white curtain, to and fro,

She saw the gusty shadow sway.

But when the moon was very low

And wild winds bound within their cell,

The shadow of the poplar fell

Upon her bed, across her brow.

She only said, "The night is dreary,

He cometh not," she said;

She said "I am aweary, aweary,

I would that I were dead!"

All day within the dreamy house,

The doors upon their hinges creak'd;

The blue fly sung in the pane; the mouse

Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd,

Or from the crevice peer'd about.

Old faces glimmer'd thro' the doors

Old footsteps trod the upper floors,

Old voices called her from without.

She only said, "My life is dreary,

He cometh not," she said;

She said, "I am aweary, aweary,

I would that I were dead!"

The sparrow's chirrup on the roof,

The slow clock ticking, and the sound

Which to the wooing wind aloof

The poplar made, did all confound

Her sense; but most she loathed the hour

When the thick-moted sunbeam lay

Athwart the chambers, and the day

Was sloping toward his western bower.

Then said she, "I am very dreary,

He will not come," she said;

She wept, "I am aweary, aweary,

Oh God, that I were dead!

It must be said that by the time you get to the third stanza you wish she was dead also!

BBC

So we now have an idea of what May has for us.  Out go the majority of the 'Posh Boys' and in come her mates and several women all sharing her vision and all looking for half a chance to take her place when she falls.  There is no doubt the planting of Boris Johnson in the Foreign Office and one of the top four jobs in government was a shock.  A shock best summed up by the US spokesman who managed to stifle his laugh and merely smile when asked about the appointment.  Other leaders were less generous and made mocking comments while the personnel of the UK just placed their hands over their heads and wondered what Putin would make of it.  
Dearie me, this is either a way to let him hang by his own rope or a mistake of gargantuan proportions.  I await his meeting with Mrs Clinton who he likened to a 'sadistic nurse in a mental hospital' or Obama who he described as 'part Kenyan who harboured an ancestral dislike of Britain' or the Turkish president who, he stated in a poem, 'has sex with a goat.'  
I should point out this man was born in New York and it is therefore possible he could become President of the United States!
So we now know the right wing leaning cabinet, Hunt remains the Health secretary as no-one else wills to take it, and we await the new 'caring' Tory party with delight.
Hmmm... 

Clever Folks

Tidy Workplace

Today, while the world turned unhindered by my presence, I moved the desk, which does not come apart, painted, hoovered and painted and hoovered and fought with the furniture to place it in a better position.  How can such a small job take all day?  When I think of 'The Venomous Bead's' new building and all the work required, with or without doors, I envy them the energy and talent that has gone into it.  Moving in with the help of the men at full speed I envy not however.  How could they create a new building so quick and I struggle to paint mine?
Of course the things I found behind the desk are interesting.  No idea what some of them are but I am sure they will plug into some device unused since yon time.  However it is wonderful to see clean walls, torn paper right enough but clean walls and a desk now better organised.  Next stop bookcase corner, moving the books, moving the bookcases, painting, returning things in better order.  That should take a week!

   Theresa May

This is the woman who will become the new Prime Minister as of Wednesday evening.  Who is she, what will she do?  

She claimed years ago that the Tory Party must get rid of the 'Nasty party' image.  Since then we have had years of Eton toffs running the country, more suffering for those on benefits, a rise in the number of Foodbanks from 66 to over a thousand, and a growing divide between rich toffs and the rest.  She claims today she wishes to end this divide.

Now she is a Tory, and worse a woman!  This never brings good things to the land.  However I am of a mind that she does indeed wish to change the 'Nasty party' into a more open one, and as a woman she, unlike Thatcher, is actually female!  This will bring a new view of the Tory boys to us all.

Stubborn and pig headed - she is a woman - she will push her ideas through.  We wait and see what her new cabinet will look like, that should start appearing on Thursday or Friday, and this will give a hint to the direction she will take regarding her promises.

We can do nothing but hope she will remove the stain of the past six years.  We can only hope something positive for most will arise.  We can only hope she is not the serf of Mr Murdoch!

Theresa May has always been a private person not keen on PR or too much public attention.  This role will change that but I suspect she is ready, she has been planning to reach for it for some time and now she is here we will see what she is made off.

Sunday Thoughts

Yesterdays early start was indeed a good idea.
I had the day planned, well after I returned I planned it, I would visit the expensive shop for the required stuff, consider painting this bit round the desk but knowing I had already decided to leave that till Monday, and sleep all afternoon.
Naturally this did not happen.
My aching knees took me to the overpriced shop and indeed back again.
I pushed aside the paint brushes, stuffed my face and considered my pillows.
The museum called.
No one had come in and the lass was on her own.
So scruffily & unshaven I toddled down there for an afternoons running around, and it got quite busy after I arrived.  I considered sleeping at the desk but was unable as people kept coming in and speaking loudly.  Tsk!  
When my now tired and aching knees got me back home and up the stairs I struggled to feed myself a morsel and later toddled off to bed.
I couldn't sleep.
I was too tired!!!

This is the weather vane that sits astride the steeple in St Michael's church.  I often noted it way above me and still don't know if it moves or not but thought I ought to capture it for histories (History's?) sake.
I suspect the bird (chicken?) was added during the restoration work in the 19 century.  Much was done then and a lot of controversy abounded.  One woman, who's father had been vicar at one time, fell out with the then vicar over changes, possibly within the building or the grounds.  Being a woman she did not leave money to the church as was usual for such folks, no her quite large estate (she had a large house, servants and acres of grounds which are now a park) was left to build another church rather than develop St Michael's.  Her church was built after she died, large enough for 300 people but with space and buttresses sufficient to enlarge the church to 600 as and when.  That has not happened.  The church, now a High Church, or Anglo Catholic if you prefer, has sold the large 7 bedroom vicarage provided and where the new man sleeps is unknown, the park possibly.
Her church has a few members and still operates but St Michael's remains the main one for the town.  St Peters does not have a spire or wee hen sitting above it.
Quite what drives some men to sitting at the top of church spires hundreds of feet above the ground to fix these things is beyond me.  My skin creeps at the thought and vertigo becomes my name.

I'm sick of all this tennis on TV!  Bring on the football!