Wet Market Day

So excited to be out in the rain I took my wee camera for a spin.  The real need was for bread and milk but I wandered into town in the rain to find the market almost deserted.  I then remembered that after Christmas many market stall holders take a holiday in the sun, probably Hawaii at their prices, at this time off year.  And add in the rain falling all day, and quite strong it was at that, only the Car advertising driving lessons and one cake stall arrived to seek cash from a very small congregation.  

I strolled through a near empty Tesco, half the checkouts empty, no customers queuing for long anywhere.  Cupboards maybe still full after restock but weather keeping folks in, I obtained a few things, congratulated the lass on not charging me as much as they usually do, and hobbled home in the wet. 

 

I suspect when the pubs open, mostly to watch football as it is English Cup day again, then many more will rise and shine.  Difficult to tell how many shops had remained shut, though most were open.  

Because my diet has been er, slack over the Christmas period I kept away from the cake stall.  His prices also enabled me to keep my distance but I doubt he made a fortune today.  

 

 

I was too early for the museum this morning, this is a shame as they have advertised a sale with 70% off!  I always told her the prices were too high!  Later in the week I will pop in and seek next years Christmas presents...

For now, it's football time.

 

Never the Twain

National

 

The other day, when in conversation with two of what I took to be highly intelligent men, I realised once again that I live in a foreign country.  It was clear their knowledge of Scortland was limited, and their reaction to Nicola Sturgeon reflected a message poured out by the 'Daily Mail,' 'Daily Express,' and BBC News.  This was disturbing but not unusual down here.

A hatred for Sturgeon that they cannot adequately explain is based on false information and a desire to oppose independence.  Yet some of these people voted for Brexit! and what they called and English independence.  

Sturgeon is no favourite of mine, however, she has handled Covid better than England, that means Boris, has attempted to protect people at all levels and while surely has made mistakes, though who would not in the circumstances, has been seen as a competent politician, one Boris dare not face.  

Scots who dislike Nicola do so because she favours the absurd 'trans' and 'gay' ideology, or is failing to seek independence.  It is likely she is happy with the situation just now as she remains happily in charge of her Cabal with no opposition.  However, 'Indy2' appears not to bother her whatsoever.  

In England dislike is based on tabloid media and ignorance.  Such ignorance includes a failure to understand how Scotland has been abused by England since the Lords took bribes and kept their lands by selling out to England in 1707.  This brought continued the peace brought by James VI & I taking the English throne (and ignoring Scotland) but almost killed Edinburgh and was rightly refused by the people.  No benefits accrued to Scotland until Scots took power in England's parliament.  Only then did money shift north, and probably into only certain pockets.

Financial figures, misreported and misunderstood seek to make Scotland a failed economy yet Denmark, Ireland and others with smaller populations succeed.  Joining the EU helps, but Scotland's  trade will improve without the Brexit folly hindering her.

Scottish nationalism is not based on hatred of England, as the London press keep repeating, but on love of country.  English nationalism is however based on xenophobia, hatred of foreigners and a belief they are still a 17th century imperial power.  This clearly is not the case.  Since Brexit all power has been lost, the English importance rotted away and all that matters is the pigs with noses in the trough, the nation, flag waving or not, matters not and is dying.

Will the English ever understand how Scots are second class citizens in their own country.  They will never understand why the BBC refers to 'British' football fans when talking about 'English' ones.  They note a tennis star who was 'Scots' until he won Wimbledon and became 'British,' and numerous daily occurrences similar to this.  I queried one newsreader when she mentioned the train leaves Kings Cross for Scotland.  "Where is this station called 'Scotland'?" I asked.  The next time she appreared it was amended to Edinburgh though she missed out the 'Waverley' bit.  Unconscious racism is bad when we are black, but not when we are Scots.  

Boris Johnson himself is known for his antipathy to Scots and has published many such statments in his writings.  Possibly action ought to have been taken here?

Scots know much more about this foreign country than the English know of Scotland, for a 'United Nation' we are very disunited, may it become permanent soon.

 

WoS

Energy Chancers

 

The chancers are at it again.  Both EON, now called 'E.on Next' for no good but certainly a costly reason, and the British Gas people, now called 'British Gas Evolve,' again for no good, but certainly costly reason are asking for a meter reading every month.  This apparently is to ensure you are up to date and able to control your costs, though I notice they do not allow you to reduce those costs as you wish on their websites as they once did.  So, to save costs, I have had to read the gas meter, in the rain, and today, clamber up and down stairs to read the electric meter in the basement (which was warmer than my condominium).

As you may remember I cannot have a 'Smart Meter' as there is no signal in the basement, and therefore I must monthly clamber about to save these grasping chancers from employing men to do so as they once did.  This saves me money?  Cutting their costs, lowering their high salaries and big bonus's to chancer directors, removing this government, and nationalising gas, water and electricity, alongside rail and bus as well as the NHS might help my costs.  I doubt reading meters monthly will do so.  

There is of course no alternative to these large powerful crooks.  It is indeed true there have been problems with gas supply, especially from that nice Mr Putin, who probably has shares in these two companies, yet the smaller companies that still remain are struggling and no cheaper now than this lot, whatever name they use.

Brexit has not helped either, we have lost the collective deals we once shared, and nobody reckons the UK now.  Prices to increase soon, but I am confident that nice Mr Johnson will enable a good deal for us all, unless he is at a party that is.

Return to Normality

I did not leave the house today.  The need for an after Christmas clean up and the need to avoid the rain trapped me happily indoors.  I cogitated on the washing as the machine whirled the mixture around.  My mother did not have a machine until the 1970s and then a hand-me-down from a woman she worked for.  Until then all the washing was done by hand.  She must have grumbled often about the hard work, even though as kids we often er, helped.  Using the mangle was fun even if we avoided the hard part of the work.  She however, was lucky!  

Just imagine washing in Victorian times where much more clothing was the fashion, and not just much more of it but much larger outfits for the women.  All this done by hand.  The soap in those days was usually a long red block called 'Sunlight,' or 'Lifebuoy,' or some such.  It meant the woman had to scrape flakes of the end and mix them in water, washing the kids in the same fashion usually also, but maybe not at the same time.  It was the flakes that helped make William Hesketh Lever famous.  He and his brother worked with a local chemist to develop the soap, based on Palm Oil, he noticed the scraped flakes and an idea came upon him, he put the flakes in a box and 'Lux Flakes' were born.  This became the common soap powder, of various brands, we used way into the 70's.

Today, I poured a dollop of liquid into the machine, £1 a go at Poundland, and watched it go.  

The hard work for me was afterwards as I then had to try the variety of raiment that had lain there for many Christmas days.  I wondered where some had got to!  How can one person whow ears the same clobebr all week find so much in the washing machine?

This proves indeed that the Christmas Holiday is over, housework, rain, normality back, well as much as possible.  Boris lying in his teeth on TV, note the hair has been combed in an effort to make him look like a PM, children returned to school with no protection, no teachers and little hope from this corrupt bunch of gangsters.  NHS  worn out, told they must bear it as we 'are at war' while the NHS like the armed forces are deprived of proper equipment and support.  However, this does not matter, as Boris is still there and he and his people are still coining it in!

I am not sure nurses agree.

 

First Sabbath of the year

The Kirk was almost empty this morning, whether this was due to people being away or the result of too much New Year celebrations was not made clear.  I was however, given a lift home, and home before noon is always a good thing.  It would have been better to have someone make lunch for me and then do the ironing but alas that did not happen.  So make do and mend and wonder "What was that I ate?" had to do.  

First sermon of the year is always tricky.  The church has to be reminded to set its heart on Jesus, not the world, to read the book, study the book, pray without ceasing and love one another.  This was not helped one year a long time ago when the pastor turned and looked in my direction as he urged us to "Move on with no more sin and (as he looked at me) no more spiritual jerks."  Quite how neither of us responded amazes me yet.   

Once home I discovered Championship football was on today.  This meant I could use PPV TV and watch Arbroath play Inverness.  This was welcomed I must say, and so £13 was soon paid and I waited by nodding off, until the game began.  This was great fun until 10 minutes in the server failed.  It took 15 mins at least before an alternative picture was found.  Apparently the server did not expect a thousand people to log in as usually only a couple of hundered do this at Arbroath.  However, government restrictions limiting the crowd to 500 meant many logged on and all collapsed.  'Vimeo,' for it was run via them, failed to impress many of the Angus hordes!  

In the end however I enjoyed the poor game played in high wind and was really too tired to care about much else.  I have struggled to wake in the mornings and look forward to a lie in tomorrow. 

 

Happy New Year 2022

 A Happy New Year to all my readers, including bots!

 

We will face another year of Covid, there will be 'wars and rumours of wars, famines and earthquakes in various places,' terrorists and protesters, mismanagement and corruption in high places.  However, there will also be acts of kindness, efforts at peace, and for many of us good times after bad, hopefully.

In short, life goes on when the calendar changes, we can do little about the life around us but we can change the life we have now, and then we can our world for the better.  May the Lord make his face to shine upon you this year and always.

I hope your 2022 is a good one for you and yours, all the best!

 

New Years Eve 2021

Being New Years Eve I decided I had to check the shop to ensure I had those last important things that I cannot do without, especially as the shops will be closed for the holiday.  I was wrong!  Both Sainsburys and Tesco are open tomorrow, not much change in the hours either.  

This will not be the case in Scotland!  

I thought I had to buy now or struggle on until Monday or Tuesday but it appears no struggle will be required.  Having lounged, drank, eaten too much over Christmas it appears no desire is left among the local natives for similar this weekend.  How often I realise I am living in a foreign country!

 

I was glad to get out under the glowering dark clouds.  Slowly the clouds have fallen away allowing a temperature in the 50's F.  This is unusual for December and knowing similar is happening elsewhere, in the US for example, it indicates a degree of global warming that Fossil Fuel salemen insist does not exist.  Their backing, if not invention, off anti-covid fears intended to ensure people return to work, thus creating money for them, has not gone unnoticed, especially when MPs shout about this in parliament and they happen to be connected to such companies and their offsprings.  How unusual for an MP!

I wandered amongst the few, almost friendly, people out and about.  Handfuls of people prepared for cold weather sweltered around town, a surprising amount of shops remained open, though some were clearly making the most of the time off.   

Home to the usual housework ignored all week.  I am so lucky!  However, it is good to get so much done badly.  Now I am about to check my Christmas spending, this ought to frighten me somewhat and ensure next year I spend less!  Then I prepare for Hogmany, that is heading to bed.... 

Dreich!

 

Dreich indeed!

Thick, heavy, threatening clouds hung over the empire this morning.  Even the LED street light that brightens up the world at 5 am each morning struggled to peek through the gloom.  By the time I struggled out of bed much later I hoped the gloom would have eased, it had not.  The darkness lay over the country for some time, occasionally breaking into light cloud and pretending there was a sun shining high above and beyond somewhere in the sky.  The clouds lied.

Having spent a fruitful morning staring at the laptop and obtaining nothing whatsoever from my endeavors I took the only possible action, I gave up.  Following a pretend exercise period I then wandered up to Tesco via the park.  The damp drizzle popped out now and again yet the air was mild and my heavy coat appeared needless.  I kept it on mind.  Tesco itself was reasonably busy at that time, and having none of the goods I sought means I must visit Sainsburys again tomorrow.

Do you ever get the idea my life is too exciting?

I wonder if I could get one of these 'Influencers' roles on Instagram?  They are all nobody's, have nothing to offer bar sponsored products that nobody requires, have little talent if any, nothing positive to say and are at best boring.  

Surely, surely I could fit in there?  

I can set up a camera and the world can watch me sitting here at the laptop, benging my head on the desk when it does not do what I wish, drinking tea and expensive whisky, and every so often turning to the camera and promoting, accidentally, an expensive piece of garbage that millions will buy because I say so!  Sounds good to me!

I wonder if I can cope with all that money arriving each month?

 

The Quiet Week

 

 

Another day in Toryland, another day with no leader to be seen.  Boris, the present Prime Minister, has run away again.  He has been done in by the knive carrying friends he put in place to protect him from harm, especially the numpty Liz Truss, now Foreign Secretary, and the 'Make the rich richer, especially me' Chancellor Risi Sunak.  Both are hoping for his job, both would be worse than he!

You will recall Kenneth Clarck's comment after the last time he stood for the leadership.  "After the vote 132 Tory members shook my hand and told me they had voted for me, I only got 87 votes!"  The numbers may be innaccurate, but the quote is true.  Now, as we eat leftovers yet again, MPs, Whips, and friends of the leading contenders are stabbing competitors in the back, making lying promises for support, and dining out with editors of right-wing papers.  All fighting for the top job, as indeed is Boris, though his temporary wife may be fighting harder than he, she is on the make and not willing to let go of the 'power behind the throne' that she possesses and is less willing to be caught out and made to pay for the decorating.  Whatever happens, she will land on another high climbing man with power, ability and an openess to her charms.  

Will any of this benefit the nation?

No!

Yesterday it appeared I had somehow enlarged by 5Ibs in weight, today I had returned to normal.  It is indeed amazing what can happen when adding or avoiding roast potatoes.  It may even be normal tomorrow again.  However, exercise was beyond me, a trip to Sainsburys yesterday morning was enough and the gray, rain carrying clouds, have been with us all day today limiting the desire to get out off my chair and wander.  Instead, I returned to the occupations of yesterday, I did nothing!

From my chair via the laptop I visited many parts of the world, played 'Solitaire' and 'Block Game' until the mental stress caused me to turn to the leftovers in the Plum Vodka bottle.  It seemed to me to be too small a bottle for what was inside, very enjoyable and very lifting!  

 

 

The world has returned to some sort of normality, rain clouds fill the earth, people wander across the park with dogs or bags filled at Sainsburys.  The wind shakes the leaves, dripping dollops of water cheerfully on passersby, dogs drink from the puddles, birds are noticeable by their absence, and even the 'white van men' are in short supply, only one today, for next door of course.   

Cars drive by but many have taken, or have been given, the week off.  Pictures of crowded shopping centres, happily sharing the latest virus by not wearing masks, are not found everywhere.  The public leave home only when forced, shopping, bargain hunting, or getting away from the noise of the kids are the favourite reasons.  Some even go to work.   

So now we sit and await New Year.  In the meantime we rise, search for the calandar, work out the date and then plan the day.  It may even be a decent day tomorrow, only thick cloud glowering above us.  This means we may, well wrapped up, walk out and find they lied to us again.  

One thing to look forward to on Jan 1st is the introduction of the full benefits of Brexit!  On that date all the prices concerning trade with the EU will grow substantially, a whole host of other legislation comes into play, and almost nobody understands what is going on and what the result will be.  Actually some of us do know the result, we have spoken of it often and we see the early results in front of us now.  Let us simplify the result, try 'Disaster!'

Tired Monday

 

This is me today.

Total wipeout.  Not able to stay awake all day.  Even a lunchtime snooze is not enough to lift this tiredness.  I suspect the apple crumble, large lunch, roast potatoes and sliver of whisky may play a part in this.  

Too much running around in the days prior to Christmas, no energy left to make the most of the whisky gifts now available to me.  Instead I stare at pictures of far off lands Live on the screen.  Railways in the USA, watering holes in various parts of Africa, some in hot sunshine, some in heavy downpours.  The online pictures from various parts of the world, Live and free, can be interesting, especially if you like Zebras, railways or ocean spray thundering against the shoreline. Such simple pleasures were all I could manage today.

I may enliven myself with some er, gifts tonight.

Boxing Day 2021

 

The problem with having Christmas Day on Saturday is that many folk think Sunday is a Monday.  I am convinced some folks were half way to work this morning before remembering what the day was.  For many others the presence of family or friends, and maybe the weight of over indulgence proved too much for them as few indeed arrived at the Kirk this morning.  The teeming rain did not help either. 

However, we gathered, sung several songs badly, and without the technicians being available we had to read the words out off a book rather than view them on screen.  This has not happened for so long some among us had forgotten how to read!  It was clear we had all forgotten how to sing.

 

 

Soon enough I was back home, the shepherds and angels remaining behind while I indulged myself in roast potatoes, not black like yesterday, and a chicken concoction far too big for me.  However, with some effort I managed, and washed this down with Plum Vodka.  A bit strong with the cloves dear! 

Then Joy!  The Heart of Midlothian game against Ross County was available and I was able to shout abuse at the TV director for failing to do his job properly once again.  Why does he spend so much time looking at the back of players heads?  Just watch the game mate!  Surely this is the easiest job in TV, why make it hard?  Anyway, we won of course, so that provided more cheer.  Now, lying ahead of me are two more games on Now TV via SKY.  It is so hard deciding whether to watch here or go and watch from my bed...

 

Two days holiday now follow.  This is time for the wrapping paper, empty boxes, the ones without cats sitting in them, and other assorted rubbish, including that strange uncle that comes only at Christmas to be discarded, recycled or dumped.  Peace and quiet, unless the kids are still around, and a time for sleeping off excess now arrives.

I hope your Christmas has been a good one, Jesus is still here, no longer a baby but a King, talk to him, he will listen.  He even arranges a driver when the rain is falling, or at least he did for me today anyway.  

You do realise that this time next year will be a new year?  Jings!

 

 

Christmas Day 2021

Happy Christmas everyone.  

Talk to the babe...

 

Christmas Eve

 

I'm shocked!

I met the woman downstairs today and discovered it was not the woman I thought it was.  They had moved out and this one replaced them about 18 months ago.  Jings, no-one tells me anything.

Anyway, I got on well with her and her 'uncle,' and walked round the town for air.

This grubby tree was in the centre and I took a shot of the lights though I do not like trees.  These are pagan things and have no place in Xmas to me.  However, the weather, ike the streets, was too dull for anything else, so I sauntered home, passing the few folks out seeking last minute gifts, or visiting watering holes, if open, for Xmas.  I saw one or two groups, and indeed heard them long before I saw them, well watered!

Now we face the Xmas days.  Tomorrow is Christmas Day, then Boxing Day, with two days off after this for the family arguments and recovery.

Many will also be sharing Covid virus's with friends and family, I will remain in safety with my liqueurs and whisky for protection...

 

O Salutaris Hostia

Post, Tesco, Angels...

Isn't it annoying that when you have done everything someone you forgot sends you a card?  So first thing today I trot down to the Post Office to send an heavy letter, the kids needed something, and hopefully I will not be back until the new year.  Surely there is no other required now?

 

That did not mean I could sit here and do all the other online stuff that is required, oh no.  I discovered I needed bread.  This was going to wait until tomorrow when the shops are crowded with the desperate piling the trolleys with stuff they don't need, but I decided it had better be done today.  So off I trotted round the town, to see if anything good was happening, it wasn't, and then into Tesco for a handful of things.  

30,000 people were also looking for a handful of things, some requiring several children to help them gather the needfuls.  Such fun!  This christmas most people have developed the Christmas frown.  Desparate for that gift, that important item, the family coming, going, not going, and what will the family/neighbours/someone think attitude, all blessing the season.  Today however, all was pleasant.  

As we queued there were debates as to the time we could get home, the need to return tomorrow for those forgotten items, and whether the kids would make the big tin of old fashioned sweets last until New Year.  That was an easy one to answer, no they would not!  All pleasant and correct.

 

Late last night I noticed these Angels appearing on the fence opposite.  This happens annually now.  Most have a card attached indicating these are to be taken and cared for.  Many had disappeared by this evening as usual.  Small things really but many think this adds something to Christmas.  

Oh yes, I have forgotten something and now must visit Sainsburys before the panic driven arrive!  No long lie in bed tomorrow...

Solstice Again

 

 A local Tavern

 

Yes it's the winter solstice once again.  The time of year to celebrate the end of Autumn and the beginning of Winter.  The good thing is that with global warming we will be sunning ourselves this winter, according to those scientists who inform us of the melting ice caps and the movement of the Jet Stream.  Of course this means we may drown as the seas rise up, the land becomes overcrowded, crops cannot grow and the rich grab all they can to themselves.  So not much change then?  But at least we will freeze in a warmer cold snap.

At least the days now get longer, which means the fog/mist/cloud that covers the land will arrive a bit earlier than normal.  Oh goody!  It does mean that with the solstice, Christmas, New Year over we can all look forward to Spring, which will arrive in due course, stuttering into view with added snowstorms as usual.  

It is no wonder people celebrate the solstice.  Way back before your grandmother was born man knew the times of the year, but did not know how to work a laptop and write this down for us.  Instead he built Stonehenge like creations to watch the sun come up or go down.  His maths was wonderful even if he could not spell.  How people must have looked forward to the end of the winter season, especially if they were living around the time of glaciers arriving in Essex.  They say the road I am living on, indeed this side of the street, had a ramp of earth all the way along to the corner, which once was considered a defensive structure but in fact was caused by the ice age stopping right here under my desk.  That explains why it gets so cold in here.

Hunters and gatherers would understand well the seasons.  They knew where to find fruits and various edibles and when they would be appearing.  Healthy organic feeding was the order off the day, of course they were dead by the time they were thirty!  Later the first farmers must have rejoiced as the seasons turned.  They would look forward to the joys of ploughing, seeding, and resting before the harvest.  Today we know nothing of hard work in comparison to farmers of old.  Vast farm fields, vast machines, and vast companies do not offer a romantic view of farming today, though after Brexit farming is now a dead duck in the UK.  

The turn of the year always brought a chance to get together with friends.  In the far past tribes from many areas would congregate together, eat, drink, and be merry and ensure the marriages between tribes could occur.  In England the 12 days of Christmas were one of the only holidays available to people.  Occasional Holy Days occurrred but most just got plastered at the Christmas Celebration.  How much of Christ was in this can be guessed.  One theory is that some Christians brought in Christmas, the 'Christ Mass,' and worked out the date of December 25th as Jesus birthday (Based on the assumption (see what I did there?) that Mary conceived on March 25th) and 9 months later it was Dec 25th.  Hmmm...   

Anyway, the Reformation in Scotland ended that in the north.  No mention of Christmas in scripture, so it was dropped, though he obviously arrived as both Matthew and Luke mention this event.  England however, continued their debauchery for the 12 days and more for many years.  It has not ended as yet around this area as far as I can see, and No 10 Downing Street not only continues the pleasuring but repeats it over and over, no matter what Covid is doing to the public outside, and then deny this.   

Scotland of course forgot about Christmas but managed to enjoy the New Year, and the Kirk did not appear to notice, and since 1956, or was it 1958, Christmas and New Year have been an excuse for drunken, rowdy, behaviour as if they needed an excuse!

My Puritan Christmas will be less exciting, and as we face a type of LockDown immediately after Christmas life will not change a great deal for a while.  The latest bug has worried Boris, though to be honest there is a growing thought that this time he really is on the way out.  I wonder what rabbit he can pull out of this hat?  Consider this for Christmas, if he goes, we may have Liz Truss as Prime Minister soon.

Pray!

 

 

Silly Old Fool

 

It was not just the world outside that suffered from fog this morning.  Rising early, carefully gathering all required for the trip to church, taking one of those free 'Flow Tests' that the council have given out, breakfasting according to the days activities and then, in good time, plodding off in good order towards the Kirk.

Naturally, the chill in the breeze did not waken me, nor the several people met on the pavements, pavements narrowed by the overgrown hedges, worn areas caused by cars to driving over, and various items left by passersby and their mutts.  None woke me from my slumbers as I plodded on.

It was as I almost reached the Kirk that I woke up and remembered the heater.

I had plugged it in at 7:30 to warm the air.  I was so busy organising myself that I forgot to unplug it as I left.  This heater now sits under my desk, warming my feet and while safe enough with me beside it allowing it to burn free  while  I was out was not desirable.  Grrrrrr!  I expect all would be safe, but it was a risk I could not take and so in the church I dumped the Christmas cards for the masses, explained myself, and hobbled back home.

It was 25 or so minutes later I clambered up the stair, entered a very warm living room and unplugged the brute!  So then it was too late to return, my dinner put to the test, and I sat annoyed at the silly old fool who could not remember something as simple as unplugging the heater!  Bah!

Another thought did cross my head however.  The Christmas cards in church.  In times past we laid them on the table and people added their own to the pile.  Each collected their own while adding to others.  All well and good, children excited to see how many they collect, adults hoping they would not get one from people they had forgotten!  Covid has ended this!  Now, to stop the spread, we must meet one another face to face and hand them the card.  Hmmm... I wonder if this is a safer method?  

Anyway, good news!  A call from one of my women at lunchtime, she and her man will collect me tonight to ensure I get to the Carol Service.  This saves me another hobble there and back.  How nice of them, I hope I put a card for them in amongst that pile...

 

The day ended well.  Being collected and delivered back afterwards was a great pleasure.  I think I could allow this to happen weekly if I thought I could get away with it.  

The usual straight forward Carol service, usual songs, usuall readings and usual unknown people arriving never to be seen again.  Some new people have arrived recently and remained however.  The only annoying thing is the need to stand and sing, sit and then stand, sit and then stand... by the end I am worn out!  

I think I will suggest changes for next year...      

 

 

Up and Down the Stairs

 

I awoke to fog this morning, I suppose I ought to have shut the window last night, and faced the day bravely with my eyes closed.  Having had to turn away a visitor yesterday because the place was in a mess, I had no choice but to clean today.  After a sparse breakfast of cereal and instant cappuccino I began to fall asleep again.  However, the need for bread, and being Friday a busy day, forced me to Sainsburys early.  Now last week folks were wandering around maskless, almost the majority cared not about masks.  Today, after stern warnings from Billy (I'm not responsible and I was not at the party) Bunter, concerning the latest virus all were forced to wear masks. As I was packing the bag and about to pay the lass had the temerity to ask me to lift the mask higher, I drop it as it steams up my glasses, I pretended not to hear, cashed the card, and headed home.  Masked people were all around and shocked I was to see this as many were happy to be unmasked only yesterday!  Do people really think the virus has gone away?  Did they not read about the sick in the NHS?  Do they trust the main stream media?  What is wrong with people?

What is wrong with me was the need to clean the loo, the kitchen and hoover, let alone the other things that required doing, next week.  Fair wore me out and it is not yet Christmas.

This has been a tiring week.  Several times a day I have been up and down the stairs, postman, deliveries for me, deliveries for next door, recycling out and having to explain to a white van man where he ought to be (a hundred yards that way), more deliveries, and up and down stairs.  Even a dodgy fellow with a tray of goodies seling things door to door.  This has happened before and I am still unsure if it is a con or not.  It reminded me of the various Indians that once brought dusters and pipe cleaners round the doors, mum always bought something from them.  Some of those men became millionaires, others estabished good shops and businesses.  I wonder what this lad was up to and where he will end up?  

My goods were not gifts, they were memory sticks.  I realised mine were, er, overloaded, and swapped things around with the new ones, only to find I needed more and more!  Then after they arrived I needed a colour ink for the printer so Amazon was back again, different driver, just as lost, and now I am determined not to spend anything more until after Christmas.

Oh, look at the books on the WOB website...  

Gyles: Odd Boy Out

                                                  Waterstones

 

This is a big book.  A great many pages all reflecting the authors ability to 'talk until the cows come home' and probably, never repeat the same story, and always find the author in the middle of it.  

As always with Gyles we see a man who is the centre of attention on every page.  From childhood on he seeks the limelight, fantasising about theatrical talent, writing fame, and whatever else comes his way.  He is off to be someone.

His schoolmates often indicate he is somehwat conceited, full of himself and talks too much, about himself!  To be fair to Gyles he admits this, one of his redeeming aspects is his honesty regarding his outward appearance.  

This book covers his life from birth, his parents, sisters who he hardly sees, his childhood spent mostly on his own, happily I must say.  Some of us were a bit like that also in the days when we could get about safely and avoid social workers and the like fearing for us when we were perfectly happy.

Gyles does have talent, courage to push himself forward amongst the people who can help him upwards as a theatrical, a writer, or whatever idea is going through his head.  There is no doubt he has talent.  

His fancy schooldays amongst the upper middle classes tells us much about life in the 50's.  I suppose that tells us much about the changes for good or ill since.  Gyles makes it to Oxford, that seat of learning where the entire place is staffed by professors of various talent, almost all of whom are degenerates of one sort or another.  I must admit that having read the Oxford pages I wanted to rush away to one of Glasgow's rougher parts just to meet people of higher moral standards and more honesty!  I suspect it is no different today.  Note: Cambridge has never produced a Prime Minister, Oxford has produced many, including the Billy Bunter who is there at the moment.  That makes clear the standard of education required.    

By the end of the book the reader is well aware of Gyles ability to talk about himself, show off his many talents and be a pain.  His wife also is well aware of this and according to his comments frequently brings him down to earth.  She looks good and sounds the right type of woman.  However, it is clear that while Gyles claims almost everyone he meets is a friend, and usually a good friend, he does come across as a likeable pain in the neck, as anyone listening to 'Just a Minute' on Radio 4 will agree.   

Loud, noisy, full of himself, knowledgeable, and even entertaining.  I was bored at times by this book, however, I suspect I will seek out the next one when he gets around to scribbling it.  

Old TV

                                              Pure Energy

I was reading Max the other day and he brought back memories of the days of long ago, back when it was 'always now' and the days longer, sunnier and energy never lacked, until nasty parents forced you unwillingly inside to feed and push you to a far too early bedtime. 

Not that you could get up in the morning mind.

Max spoke about the TV of the 50's and that brought to mind the old 'Ferranti' tv that we obtained, by rental, from either 'Currys' or the 'Leith Provident' (who, being a 'Co-op' gave a dividend!).  This model found here on 'Pure Energy' is very like the one that arrived in 1958 in the corner of our house.

The programme on while the TV was being installed was 'The Army Game,' a comedy set in an army barracks laughing at what life the majority of men, and many women, had endured during the war only a dozen years before.  

In those far off days, much further far off than I would like, there was a choice of two TV stations, BBC and STV.  I cannot mind the actual numbers but I think to change from one channel to another meant getting up, turning the dial from '10' to '8,' then standing back to ensure the picture was not rolling up or down.  This meant playing with the knobs at the rear until the picture settled.

However, as Max reminded us we had such fine Historical dramas to entertain us as kids, 'The Lone Ranger,' 'Gunsmoke,' and many John Wayne westerns.  I remember 'Robin Hood' and 'William Tell,' all with dynamic leading men, a woman who did little, fast action, dramatic music, and an audience of millions around the nation.

It was many years before we realised the actual 'History' offered in such programmes was nil!  By the mid 60's, once we were all at work, we realised the 'Wild West' was not fought with 'Colt 45's' blasting Indians (now called by white middle classes 'Native Americans,' though they all had their own tribal nation names anyway), Indians who fell off their horses, always forward, and by the dozen, at the firing one one bullet from a man looking backwards while riding a horse at the gallop!  

As for 'Robin Hood' and 'William Tell,' well!  

The BBC at the time had a high reputation for journalism, especially after the war when the Beeb had stood up to government pressure, Winston wanted to take it over Geobells style, and gave as honest a news service as possible without giving away secrets.  The new style news programmes such as 'Tonight' which offered decent, popular much liked presenters, interesting and often humerous reports from around the nation, as well as more serious topics in a sensible manner.  Cliff Michelmore and Fyffe Robertson became household names, and not like the 'celebs' of today.  

TV started in the evenings only, Scotland did have the 'One o'Clock Gang' in which Larry Marshall and his gang offered repeats of jokes told many times before, as well as a song or two, also repeated often.

The afternoons may have featured the boring black and white coverage (all was black and white until the early 70's) of cricket, that most boring of games, that was made more boring by being in black and white, with Peter West, a racist Englishman who did not like Scotland, commentating in a frightfully English manner.  I went out and played football night after night like the majority of schoolboys and ignored such appaling TV.

However, some programmes were unmissible.  'Hancock's Half Hour,' which on radio had 25 million listening weekly transferred to TV and the audience followed.  Imagine 25 million watching any programme today other than the World Cup Final!  The result was conversation the next day which always began with the TV from the night before.  The nation had something to keep them together, although TV also helped divide them.  

The 1956 Suez crisis would have been seen by many on TV news.  This brought a sharp division and soon a new Prime Minister, Harold MacMillan.  He was one who could make use of TV and was keen to do so.  A new situation arose, words on radio were no longer good enough to get elected, you had to look the part, not just sound it.  Many were slow to accept this. 

Today, TV is something I never watch.  The output on 50 Free channels is usually vile, tepid, repetitious or banal.  I watch football via the laptop and occasional programmes only, I miss nothing.  Few can converse regarding last nights TV as almost all watch different poor quality trash.  Many young folks are on video games, older folks also, and music means more to young than TV.  The BBC, especially in these last dozen years, has failed to report in a journalistic manner.  UK news is tainted with Tory propaganda, ITV and Sky follow suit, social media is the way to get news today.  Boris and his cabal already own the major press, now they have quieted the TV output.  Whoever owns the major news, press, TV and radio, can keep the people under.  The majority, though suspicious, will never react in the hope they can survive and not get blamed. 

 

Wiki