Workmen....!

 

Woman's Work

 

The JOY continues.

I awoke with the Larks this morning, or at least the Blackbirds, Pigeons and Rooks.  I could not sleep, I was too tired to rise, but I rose.  Breakfast took forever as I kept forgetting what I was doing.  Then I had to look at the washing machine.  I looked, considered, and decided it was time for lunch.

Where did the time go?

As I was searching the web for washing machine info my great niece began to question me re family history.  This meant looking out photos and sending them on.  She is very into this just now. 

Then, joy of joys, a man arrived at my door unexpectedly.  An electrician come to do the work he outlined weeks ago.  No-one mentioned this to me, the Landlord forgot to phone me.

When he had begun to break things, bang a lot, hammer here and drill there, she called. 

"Is he with you?"  She asked sweetly, her voice full of guilt.  

He still has to fix the other flats and she was unsure who would be in, I promised to keep his visit secret.   

Later.

He is still here!

He has put on his radio.

Some local rubbish station that I would not dream of using.  He did not ask, I do not mind but I do not wish to lower my mind to this bubblegum pop dross with cheery conversation in between.  He is used to working on his own, in empty flats, I do not blame him for that.  I would prefer working alone if I were he.  I just wish he would finish!

I canny get much done and need my siesta.

He is still here, banging and thumping.

Much later.

At last!  peace for my siesta - before I start clearing up.  Then I can play with the washing machine again.   Oh and by using my hoover he knocked over the kettle, don't ask how, l now need to add that to the shopping list tomorrow.

 

Murdoch's pies will arrive tomorrow by FED EX sometime before 6 pm, that means around lunchtime as usual.  Pie for tea tomorrow night.  

 

Monday Joy!

This week will be a good one.  I can tell.

For a start, I woke at 5:45 this morning, I was up by 6, and soon I had been round Sainsburys and back long before I forgot the main thing I went for.

The day stuttered from then on, though I did order some food from an online butcher.  Mince pies, known in this foreign imperialist land as 'Scotch Pies.' I also ordered other varieties with them, as these are impossible to obtain in this area, and this will fill my fridge for a wee while.  They work out at around £2 each, which is not much more than some rubbishy shop pies here cost.  The shop I found is in Forres, way up in the north of Scotland.

I was boasting about my buy, content in spending yet more money to save money when a crunching sound caught my ear.  The washing machine has stopped in the middle of a cycle and died!  I had filled the thing but did not realise what was already therein.  Too heavy for the old girl and something has failed.  Later, when all had ceased, I removed sodden clothes and now finished them, badly, by hand.  The water remains in the machine and I must search the web to work out how to fix or kill the brute.  

I am so happy about this... 

Boris has been spluttering about 'Tiers and'lock down' again.  I didn't catch what he said but will it make a difference anyway?  People will get together at Xmas whatever they say.  In some cases,especially with locked in grannies this may be a good thing, however, the danger will involve passing on a virus undetected.  Families have to make a sensible choice, sadly far too many will not.  January will be busy for the NHS.   

My family will use the excuse not to contact me, they have used it for 40 years so far, I expect little change there...

Just about lunchtime I was cosy, comfortable and just a wee bit tired.  Since then everything has gone wrong.  Now, I have been waiting on my cheap Tesco pie to cook, choosing proper ones made me hungry, I awaited the burning smell that always accompanies my cooking, I waited, and waited.  I then checked on the thing and found it sitting above the oven attracting flies.  Now I must wait again.  It is all joy at the moment.  I bet there will be no football tonight also, just what I want...

 

Principal service, Sunday 22nd November

 

 

 

Blethering

via GIPHY

It has been one of those weeks, one where there was much to be done and little actually got done.  The shops were visited, foolishly as most were closed for Lock Down so I could not buy the cards I required.  Fancy forgetting they were closed?  That was caused either by age or stupidity, either would give the answer.  The cards I had were scribbled however, the Amazon gift cards inserted, and on December 1st they will be posted.  Always post early, afix name and address label if unsure of recipients address remembering how each postie has a dozen each day wrongly addressed, these are just lost. 

The, far too many, online gifts will be ordered the same day to ensure delivery before the rush begins, which it will, and which with Covid around will hinder the deliveries.  So, while berating those who indecently urge Christmas upon us long before the time I have almost got my Christmas sorted.  

Little else has been done.  

 

The smirk remains in her job.  Just after Boris announced 'anti-bullying week,' he informs the world that his chief bully will not be fired for her constant well known bullying.  This after an inquiry found she was guilty of bullying and normal protocal would indicate she must resign she does not resign. Boris supports her, and the man responsible for the report resigns as he realises this government does not accept responsibility for anything.  Clearly this woman, not liked by other cabinet members, will remain in her job while unfit, as if we did not know this, as Boris needs her support and cannot accept the loss of another gangster.

Where is the UKs Biden?

 

 

Somme, Christmas

 

 

18th November 1916 was the last official day of the 'Battle of the Somme.'  The battle cost around 400,000 casualties, that is, dead, wounded and missing, of the British Imperial Force and probably similar casualties on the German side.  

The choice of the Somme was not one agreed by General Haig, then Commander-in-Chief of the British Army, this was a choice forced upon him, as 'Loos' had been forced upon Sir John French the then Commander in 1915, by the London government wishing to submit to the French.  The 'Battle of Loos' was still being fought, officially or otherwise, in 1918!  The London government at all times sided with the French, ignoring their own officers advice and accepting whatever the French wanted.  This attitude cost more lives than bungling officers would.

The Somme was an area unsuitable for fighting, gently rolling hills, many wooded areas covering one another, and with an army of volunteers with almost no battle experience it was likely to be an interesting place to have a battle.  The end result saw an advance of a few miles, but this advance, though costly, did break the back of the regular German army, and this effect lasted until the end of the war.  The result in November meant that the UK now had an experienced army, many lessons had been learned, tactics changed, commanders exchanged, and a victory won.  

While this battle raged Verdun was the scene of French losses equal to those on the Somme.  The German idea was to 'Bleed the French army dry' and instead it bled its own army at the same time.

In the East the Russian 'Brusilov Offensive' cost over 1,3 million casualties, at least.  In the East the war swung back and forth causing widespread destruction and little advantage for either side.  

1916 was not the year to choose to enlist in any army in Europe.

 

There is no escape, Xmas is upon us.  OK it may be 6 weeks or so away and we may be in November still but it is upon us now.  Sainsburys this morning had stacked the shelves with Christmas cake, mince pies, puddings and booze, lots of booze.  I evaded them all as I saw the prices!  I have been slowly stacking up for Brexit and now I must begin to store the Xmas stuff.  Not that this means much change for me, however it is now time to prepare.  This means cards and posted stuff must be ready, Covid has hindered Royal Mail and thousands of extra staff will not really cover the work as well as the regulars.  I always post cards on December 1st, this gets mine away well in time and reminds others to send me one.  Some do.  Charge Cards for gifts are different as so many shops have closed.  I noticed 'Peacocks' the cheap clothes store is closing, others have already gone, and charge cards are no use if the business is bust.  Looks like chocolate through the post this year, 'Cadburys' anyone? 

 

 

Tech Problems and Me!

 

 

Technology, like spelling, has always been a problem for me.  At school, aged a mere 5 years, I had learned that two halfpennies made one whole penny.  This news pleased me as the 'Beech Nut' chewing gum machine sold gum for one penny.  However, when I inserted my two halfpennies (where did they come from?) into the machine several times nothing happened bar the coins falling out again, I gave up then annoyed that the brute would not give the chewing gum demanded.  

Yesterday I had to record my voice.  I know, you wish to hear this, however copyright stops this, thus I was searching the world attempting to discover how to record on the laptop.  Naturally the answer lay on the laptop itself under the 'Voice recorder' on the Windows start!  Eventually I found this, slowly worked out how to do it, then kept doing it until satified with my 'work.'  Then came a search for how to send the recordings.   Of course no-one indicated that a 'sound recording' file would automatically appear did they.  This was discovered by accident, the recordings, once the majority had been dumped, sent off.

I then spent another eon attempting to join my mobile phone (cheap) to the laptop.  Again no-one mentioned the Start, this was where I found the link I also had spent time looking for.  Then it involved searching for other links, allowing access, clicking here, there and everywhere, by this time needing to shave again, I got it completed.  Thus I can send photos to the laptop!  However, I want to send them from the laptop and so far I have not discovered how!  

I did the right thing, I gave up.

At 7:30 I then continued my technological school by having to work out 'Zoom' so I could see the Logging In of the new Vicar.  No service possible these days, just a technological stramash as 65 of us 'zoomed in' and gave thanks for the 'Mute' button.  Heads popped up, some just the eyes appearing over the bottom of the screen, others full face, sometimes just the light in the ceiling being revealed as we struggled through the service.  I had not realised I would appear at the top of the Zoom screen, I would have washed had I known.  Good job the lights were down.

By this time I was shaking, all this technology, mostly successful, and still working.  I was glad I had not kidnapped a 13 year old to fix things after all, I may have had trouble getting rid of him afterwards.  

Now however, having spent so much time tapping these buttons, several fingers have stabbing pains in them.  I need to lie down.

 

 

 

Bottles, Boris & Herod...

 

The sky was gray, the temperature a high 50f when I took the empty glass bottles up to the reycle centre.  Had I got tuppence on each I could eat meat tonight instead of outdated Tuna!  Where do they all come from?  They must have been left by another.

Unusually the bins were half full, I thought they would have been emptied recently, it seems Covid is delaying even this.  Maybe of course it is just 'Lock Down' encouraging folks to drink more at home as the pubs are closed.  However, I emptied the four shopping bags worth I brought and wandered into town.

Road works still ongoing, masked people still queueing outside shops, strict instructions here, there, and everywhere, and the world as we now know it continues.

 

CNBC

Very useful for Boris this self-Isolating.  What with PMQs on Wednesday which he will miss thus avoiding awkward questions from the other side about the shenanigans behind the Number 10 door the other day. How convenient for Boris not to be there!  Of course they will say he wishes to be there to announce his updated programme, but alas he cannot, and how 'updated' will this re-run of old news be?  Maybe he ought to send 'Princess Nut-Nut' to do this instead?  She now appears to be running the country instead of Dominic.  

70,000 dead from Covid or thereabouts and the real headline concerns his latest hanger-on woman.  She, one on the make I say, is making the most of the time before they dump Boris and she has to find another to cling onto.  Dominic, naturally, is not far away and we know which one means most to Boris.  I wonder if he remembers her name?  He cannot remember his childrens names.

 

I was informed today that the church will be offering a kind of online advent calendar this year.  This will be based on cartoon characters and various individuals have been asked to play various voice parts which will be dubbed onto the word balloons each day.  For some reason hard to explain he asked me to record the voice of Herod the Great.  Typcasting at its best he says... 

 

 

 

 

It's November!

 

Scotland's Success, Dominic's Failure!

 

 

Scotland qualifying, the hard way as always, for the Euro's last night was a welcome change from the mass of bumf that fills the screen these days.  By outplaying a feared Serbian side they deservedly won through.  Only Scotland however could allow the enemy to score an equaliser in the 90th minute of this game, an equaliser they did not deserve, and then, exhausted by the efforts over the previous hour and a half, almost throw everything away at the end.  Then, after an excellent penalty shoot out, it would be hard to find nine better taken penalties anywhere, and one excellent save from David Marshall we, at last, get back into the old routine.

In my youth Scotland made a habit of qualifying for such tournaments before throwing away all advatages on offer.  World Cup and European Nations would come and go, the only failure being not getting out of the section once we got there.  Nations close by with easier sections, as always, managed this regularly, even if they failed to make it to the finals in 1994 in the USA.  Now we have once again got back to normal I look forward to a glorious failure this summer, knives in the back for individual stars, and a mess of Bull in all the media.  That's normal in this country.  However, for now we enjoy and look forward with a smile, whatever that is!

 

Here is an excellent photo, not just because it catches the bright light indoors against the twilight outside, but because it appears Dominic is leaving.  I say 'appears' as we all know how much a part acting plays with this lot.  He may well be moving out, but his henchmen remain indoors, and his contact with his puppet will continue.  

There are those who consider a change is under way, Brexiteers are worrying, IDS and Redwood are spouting, and Brexit is six or so weeks away and many backbench Tories are worried, a 'No Deal Brexit may lose their seat, it may also hurt the nation but they are worried mostly about losing their seat! 

Our Heroic PM, the one hiding in a fridge, I suppose has seen a danger in this, the danger he may be pushed out in disgrace, something he wishes to avoid.  Moving Dominic, if indeed this is genuine, and obeying this weeks girlfriend, might just save his face.  Bidens victory has influencefuture talks.

Biden himself has shown his dark side.  This Roman Catholic, this nice man, has already stated he will give funds to those who murder children in abortion and reverse laws banning this murder.  That may give him support among the selfish but will lose it elsewhere.  This was a foolish move at this time.

 

Remembrance 2020, Royals,

Because of the virus a shortened Remembrance event was held today at the War Memorial.  Around 20 or so people attended.  One man led, the piper played, the trumpeter offered the last post and we stood in silence.  Short but respectful, as you would expect.  The several hundred that would normally appear at the Sunday service may well have stood for the two minutes silence in shops, streets or elsewhere today. 

 

 

One wreath was laid today, added to those laid unofficially on Sunday.  This came from a local school who attend each year.  The children, heads bowed and respectful, always add something to such occasions.  I suspect these will know more about the Great War than the many educated via the 'Daily Express' and 'Daily Mail.'  

 

Quietly and respectfully the people dispersed, an occasional ex-serviceman was spotted, army cap and medals showing, and the people drifted away, on with their business.

 

My business took me to Tesco for bread and circus's, hold on, bread and wine, the last being something I forgot.  Plenty of soap however, the girl wondered if I was panic buying or just filthy?  Considering my garb I would have thought the answer obvious myself.

Back home, cleaned up, having posted the pictures on the memorial I rest.  My knees ache from standing around and walking, my head aches from Google Sites new system.  The old system was easy to operate, even if it had limitations.  The new one is not easy, things disappear, squares come and go, understanding what to do when items suddenly shrink or enlarge is not clear, questions are then asked as to the mentality of the geek who originated the blasted thing, and as my views were posted to them several times in the past I could not be bothered passing on my compliments today.  Eventually the two war memorial sites went up, this deserved lunch!

 

Standard

 

I see the royals are making the most of the date.  Kate is pictured chatting to war widows online, though the 'Standard' just notes the blouse costs £79!  I could buy two suits for that!  As she chats secretly in front of the photographers her husband is talking secretly to troops serving around the world.

Now normally this would be part and parcel of being royal, today it is part of the 'Buck House' way of indicating to Harry and Meghan they are 'out of order.'  Willie and Kate always get good press, and that is never something to put your trust in, Harry and Meghan always get a bad press.  The media love this, the royal fan, and there is lots of them, enjoys the soap opera that lives of the nations tax, and this might be the only way some media survive!  Harry and Meghan did visit a war memorial, this is called a 'photo op' by the press, Kate and William's contact however is called 'caring.'  

Do you, like me, have other words for this?

 

Mercury News

Passchendaele, 3rd Ypres

The 10th of November 1917 saw the official end of the 3rd Battle of Ypres, often referred to as 'the Battle of 'Passchendaele.' The difficulties encountered cause this battle to be wrongly identified as typical of the fighting conditions during the war.  It was however a dreadful place to be for both sides.

Admiral Fisher, the First Sea Lord of the Royal Navy complained they were losing transport ships to submarines.  This was because the Royal Navy had refused to instigate the convoy system as yet, this was soon remedied by London.  Fisher implied the war could be lost if the submarine pens at Ostend, from which U-Boats emerged, were not taken.  The only way to accomplish this was to remove the Germans from Passchendale Ridge and send the British and Belgian forces up the coast to Ostend.  A clever strategy which took no account of unusual, never ending, rain storms.  

 

The action began on 31st July 1917 with General Gough's 5th Army at the 'Battle of Pilkem Ridge.' All went well at the beginning and a good advance was made.  Each 'ridge' had to be taken one by one and several individual 'battles' comprised '3rd Ypres.'  At first all went well and then the rain came.  This was not a surprise, at that time of year it often rained and 'Flanders' means 'Flooded Land.'  However, this time the rain did not stop, indeed the rain not only continued but it brought downpours unknown in living memory.  

Without the rain it is possible to surmise that the allies may well have taken the village of Passchendaele long before November.  The rain however ended this hope.  The water table is not far from the surface, streams and irrigation channels ran through the area, heavy constant shelling from both sides led to the break up of these and very quickly the land became a morass of shellholes quickly filling with water.  It must be added that this was no ordinary mud, this was a type of 'Blue Clay' which makes walking difficult and moving weaponry almost impossible.  As time passed the army soon became bogged down.  

 

The battle continued however and General Haig, Commander-in-Chief of British Forces, attacked in the South and then North continuing the battle in spite of the growing difficulty of the conditions.  It became clear that while his generals began to doubt any advance possible Haig considered not just Admiral Fishers fears but also the news that the French Army had gone on strike!  French General Nivelle's failed offensive broke the back of the French Army not the German and in this position Haig was reluctant to cease fire understanding the Germans may be tempted to attack the French. 

His men did not agree!

Wounded men often sheltered in shell holes, these soon filled with water drowning many casualties.  Movement of guns became impossible, aircraft could rarely fly, men could barely walk.  Falling from the duck board pathways often meant being sucked into the mud, few could pull such men out.  Constant firing from distant big guns, machine guns and rifle fire continued at all times.  The German insistance of constant counter-attacking at all times increased the suffering of both sides.  Captured prisoners were often happy to be out of it.

In the end the Canadians, who had been the first Colonial troops to arrive in 1915, finally took the muddy bricks that represented Passchendaele village.  The picture indicates what remained, the church being the only building recognisable, and that a heap of bricks.

The top picture features Canadian machine gunners the day before they started their next phase of attack.  Several men can be seen in various holes which comprised the 'trench.'  Only the man at the machine gun survived to tell his story.  The cost?  About 200,000 men on each side not counting the wounded or those who possessed a memory they would never forget.

Vaccine US Politics

 

Excuse me not joining in the celebrations re the new 'vaccine.' I am of course glad a start has been made but the question is can it be real?  I am sure the people behind it are confident of the worth of the product, I do not doubt their integrity, but even the man from the Health Dept appeared to indicate it was not a cure.  

I remain ignorant of the details, deliberately so, facts have never influenced my opinion anyway, that is a family trait, but the Coronovirus is a highly complicated virus, one man claimed he had found 40 different aspects of the things, and it appears to me this vaccine may be just a beginning, not a cure.  Of course I hope it works, we all do, but Boris and his announcements are always Balloons!  There is nothing this man says that stands up to scrutiny and while there may be merit in the vaccine soon to be on offer I will be wary like many others.  

 

You may not have noticed but this man Biden is now President of the United States.  Or at least almost President.  The cack-handed US political system makes it difficult to become President without several Billionaires backing you, the vote is spread over days, if not weeks, and the US forces serving abroad must be taken in to account also.  Eventually a man appears to win, however the absurd 'Electoral College' then decide who the President ought to be, not the voters.  Once he has been named in November (Surely it will always be a 'He?' Look at the mess women have made of the UK system) he then has to wait until January, in the cold, to take his place.  This year of course the sulking schoolboy will be attempting to remain in place via the courtroom while he himself wanders around a golf course. One day democracy will arrive in the US.   

Remembrance Sunday 2020

 

 

The pandemic, which you may have heard about, has interfered with all aspects of life today.  The annual Remembrance services held around the nation have been affected although the main cenotaph service has gone ahead and people will make their own remembrance in various ways.

It is fair to say that for many years attendance at such services has fallen, this is understandable as those involved begin to fade and the younger generation do not feel the effects of war as slightly more elderly folks do.  It would be wrong however to suggest the youth of today does not have knowledge of the world wars and other conflicts from the past, some schools educate the kids well and they often have more understanding of those conflicts than those who are educated by todays 'popular press.'  There a jingoistic propaganda with little knowledge or understanding is offered, not much good in educating the people on war.  A school near me was so well informed re the Great War that their commemoration service was broadcast on nationwide TV one year, and they knew well the Great War, much better than I.

Possibly half the nation today pay little observance at this time, however, they will appreciate the services if and when they require their help.  There is little opposition to having an army, there was from the unthinking left among us a distaste for military service before the Falklands conflict.  Those who advocated ceasing nuclear weapons while not objecting to the possible enemy having them took the place of the 1930s appeasers.  This one-sided argument can still be found, I suggest its propagators visit China and suggest they cease making such weapons.  After the Falklands a recognition of what joining the army meant was once again in the publics mind.  Even while objecting to wars in Iraq and Afghanistan few grumbled about the men involved, it was the wrong wars at the wrong time most rightly objected to.  Indeed, the use of British troops in those wars, considered the USA's needless wars, led to a fall in recruitment which still hinders the services.  That is not going to change anytime soon. 

Our service was online again, our man did a good job in the circumstances.  I hope you like it. 

German Prisoners

 

When first I saw you in the curious street,
Like some platoon of soldier ghosts in grey,
My mad impulse was all to smite and slay,
To spit upon you – tread you ‘neath my feet.
But when I saw how each sad soul did greet
My gaze with no sign of defiant frown,
How from tired eyes looked spirits broken down,
How each face showed the pale flag of defeat,
And doubt, despair, and disillusionment,
And how were grievous wounds on many a head,
And on your garb red-faced was other red;
And how you stooped as men whose strength was spent,
I knew that we had suffered each as other,
And could have grasped your hand and cried, ‘My brother!’
 

Joseph Lee.  Black Watch
from Work-a-Day Warriors (London: John Murray, 1917)
Scottish Poetry Library

 

 

Books!

 

As you know, the other day I got an email from 'Waterstones' informing me that I could lose my £10 voucher if I did not use it by the end of the month.  This, I consider, a rather sneaky way to entice the stupid book buying public into spending money they cannot afford near Christmas.  I naturally refused to fall for this crude ruse.

Unfotunately, somehow or other the three books at the top became part of this weeks postman problem.  It appears I had ordered them and Chris, the postman, refused to deliver them on Wednesday as he would not ring the bell.  I will ring his on Monday!  

A strange thing about this business is that the books did not come from Waterstones themselves, one came from Hatchards and two from Foyles, or was it the other way around?  Anyway, having reapplied for delivery I also prayed that something would be done, and it was, the reglular postman on Friday was ignored and Zac, the unsmiling van driver, delivered to my door, unsmiling.  I like Zac, he was always good when I worked there but today's management style, the huge number of drops he now has, in an area he must be sick of having been brought up here, and with no option but to continue this employment means he may be tiring of life.  Royal Mail management once was operated by ex-postmen, today'experts,' shrewd in the ways of looking at figures on paper, have arrived and no one is happy.  The managers I knew were quick to take their leave, many experienced men retired, and folk like Zac are now lumbered and the easy life he once enjoyed, easier than mine, has gone.  Instead poor management on the ground, constant change of manager, and lack of comprehension 'upstairs' does not lead to happy people.  I see trouble next year.

You will note my 'To Read' pile has one or two which have been begun.  That shows not only how slow readig has become but also that big words, small font and 700 pages are not encouragement to read.

Is 'Lockdown' affecting concentration?  Could it be I am just a slob?  Answers on a postcard.  I am just glad the charity shops have closed again for LockDown.  Had they remained open I may have found myself accidentally buying books to add to the pile.  In fact I took some books down to one shop the other day and donated them, books I could not use, out of date, and unliked.  My problem is now avoiding buying them back again in December!

 

They still have not finished the count.  Not that the loser will accept it anyway, already he has begun spurious court suits, anti-media propaganda, and generally objecting to everything that he does not like.  The sooner he has gone the better, he leaves the USA in a divided mess however.

 

Let Joy Continue...

 Selfie

It was as I watched a train of 150 or so doubled up containers leave the bridge at Fort Madison, Iowa, last night that I realised something was amiss.  My picture was good but as I tried to log on to other places nothing worked.  All had gone down and the trains soon stopped running past the replica Fort Madison.  Internet connection was lost.  Hmm... Tsk!  Thought I, this is unfortunate.

I then attempted to reconnect to the web, nothing worked.  Three Browsers were tried, nothing worked.  What was wrong?  It appears the 'DNS' was not connecting.  The what?  The DNS.  I stared for a while, but this did not help.  

I connected the old laptop, one as slow as a Boris Johnson thought, and discovered this one connected well enough, indeed I then watched the football on it!  My better one would not however work.  

Having interrupted the football to search for an answer, and several were found but all appeared to me to be in a foreign 'Geek' language, so they were put back to bed, and I then joined them there.

This morning, covered in crumbs, I stumbled about in the laptop, prodding this and that and getting nowhere.  Eventually, by chance, I hit the 'Network' troubleshooter.  This found a fault, not the DNS one, and offered a 'Fix.'  

I took it, and it 'fixed!'  

What did it fix? No idea!  But it now works better than ever.

Old laptop put back, slowly, to bed, and I got on with life.

Great stuff, what could possibly go wrong now?  

 

Step forward Royal Mail!

Or at least Chris, the postman!

The books I ordered from Waterstones were due delivery today.  Strange to say they did not come from Waterstones themselves but one via 'Hatchards' and two via 'Foyles' bookshops.   They have been sitting in a London sorting office for a couple of days, rather than being sent on, and were due delivery today.

I know Chris, I worked with him long enough, ageing as the days pass, arrives around 1:30 each day.  I was here, I was sitting happily awaiting the prizes, I even had the door open to hear, and the bell is close by.

Around 1:35 an email arrived claiming no one was in.

Strapping my Claymore to my side I went downstairs and checked.  Two red cards awaited, one for me, one for next door.  

No bell had rung, Chris had gone and was nowhere in sight.

Grrrrrr!

This is the result of the Virus.  Chris, at his age, is very wary of the virus and has clearly decided not to ring the bell in case he catches it, instead he, like others, taps on the door thus meaning no-one inside can hear him.  He then wastes time scribbling the cards and chucking them through the door when he could be wasting time chatting.  He has not considered that other postmen, couriers etc, may 'tap' the door rather than use the bell thus endangering themselves from one another.  

He may get words next week when he is back on.

My books will be delayed until Friday, not counting sorting office incompetence, no way I can walk down there, and the old boy on Friday will ring the bell. 

Tsh!

Prepare for 'Lock Down.'

The news of a month long 'Lock Down' brought out the people this morning.  I noticed Sainsburys car park busier than usual, the Barbers I reconnoitered all had queues outside or were busy indoors.  This was not good as I was again the owner of a Beethoven like hairstyle and required shearing before 'Lock Down' begins.  An urgent prayer was launched and 'Lo' I passed a Barber I had forgotten about, empty, being swept clean, and no queues.  One slight problem with the job was his comment as I queried the £9:50 charge, 

"You're a pensioner aren't you?" he said.  

'Pensioner!'  Me?  I am 32!!!  

I kept quiet at this as I did nto want the cost increased to £15 and I also did not wish to hear more heartfelt laughter as I said "32."  

I was glad of this however as I need a regular Barber, I fell out with the last one, some people will not take a telling!

Anyway, while the masses crashed around the supermarkets this left 'Iceland' free of crowds.  Being famed for frozen foods they do not stock much of the stuff panic buyers want, therefore this left me free to panic buy what I required to fill the freezer!  So, bar a need to panic buy ground Black Pepper at the moment I have no need to panic, milk and bread can wait till Wednesday.  I will now go to the shops and smugly look down on those rushing around the shelves.  

 

Mars, Books, Twitter

The other night, the clouds having departed, I saw Mars close to the Moon.  Rushing for the camera I wasted timme trying to get a decent shot of both, these two blobs are the best I could manage.  The Moon is the one on the right...

It appears Mars will not be this close for another 15 years or so, I may not get another chance to see it like this.  Since then however rain has stopped play with late night stargazing out the kitchen window late at night, I may be able to resume come April.

On Twitter early today they war anoraks were offering pictures of their bookshelves.  Masses of war books, and someone claimed, Enid Blytons, were to be observed.  My shelf looks puny in comparison, although many more big ones lie elsewhere.  It is interesting to read people who consider books so important.  One man offered a view of his home where several large bookshelves groaned with books, mostly Military ones.  Isn't it funny how we, and by this I mean men, get caught up in something and fill our world with this hobby.  War books, often ex-servicemen or historians, photography, trains, football, cars, motorbikes, cycling, hill walking, and so on, once something gets a grip of you it remains forever.  Of course women can be found here also, especially in the hill walking areas, I will go looking tomorrow, and they can be most helpful as they make the sandwiches.  

I recall the tale of a woman dumping her man, he might starve now, as he filled the house with Manchester United paraphenalia.  The walls were covered, cupboards filled and for reasons unknown she got forgotten in this.  Other women are happy the man has a hobby, whatever it is, as long as it is harmless, and she will probably have one also.  Helpful if they share the attraction.

 

 

I was watching the second Scottish Cup Semi Final on Premier TV this afternoon, another group ripping off Scottish football fans, and found myself getting very annoyed by the faltering picture.  I took to  Twitter, a good idea if you wish to embarrass someone, and yelled at Premier!  Minutes were lost, I missed a goal, and then in one of the papers they had a list of people similarly crying out re lost vision. Eventually all returned and the wrong team one.

Too often I find myself these days shouting at things, there is of course a lot to decry!  Corrupt government, people, wrongs that need righted, but in the end I am becoming Victor Meldrew, and grumble too much, even though, and it must be said, I am right!

So, I will give Twitter a miss to save my blood pressure, few will notice, and I will peacefully spend my days contemplating trains, football, and other lovely things.  Anyone got a spare mirror?

 

Good News and Bad, for Some.

Another Edinburgh Derby, another Derby played at Hampden, another victory for the Heart of Midlothian.  Rain, storm, offside goals and dives for penalties did not cease the onward advance of the men in maroon.  

Indeed it was ever thus, since the first cup final between these two clubs, the Heart of Midlothian winning by 1 - 3 at Logie Green Road, and in all subsequent major semi and finals the Heart of Midlothian succeed.  The last final was in 2012 where the wee team bravely lasted until the end of the game, not counting the one sent off, and lost by 5 goals to 1.  Tee Hee, it is inevitable the Big Team will win such games.

Look at the overall record.

 

1896

 

Since the first meeting between these clubs at the East Meadow in Edinburgh on Christmas Day 1875, which the Heart of Midlothian won by one goal to nil, success has always been with the men in maroon.  So far some 651 game have been played between the sides, the Heart of Midlothian winning 286 Hibs 206, mostly with the help of biased referees.  6 games were abandoned, the Hibs went home when the could not take another beating, or complained it was 'too cold.'   The Hearts have scored some 1100 goals and with the help off dubious penalties and their friendly linesmen Hibs have accrued, what they say, is 924 goals.  Hmmm.  In simple terms what this means is that if Hibernian wish to win as many games as us it could take them 20 years to catch up, but as you realise, that will never happen.

 

The sad news regarding the passing of Sean Connery is not a surprise, he was 90.  However, he is without a doubt the best actor Scotland has produced and will forever be 'James Bond' to one and all. He went from a milk round, horse and cart and all, to 'Dr No' and Ursilla Andress.  Not bad for a milkman.  He delivered in Comley Bank for the 'St Cuthberts Dairy,' my dad did the same round for 'The Edinburgh & Dumfrieshire Dairy,' known as the 'Dummy.'  He went from that to the United Wire Works.'  It does not seen fair...

 

 

I will not mention this, just in case the folks in Taffs Well are listening....