Spring at Last?

April comes to an end with bright sunshine and chilly wind.  Less chilly than the other day, yet many Englishmen once again, as normal, reveal their intelligence by wearing tee-shirt and shorts early in the day because it is 'warm.'  Normal people do not do this.  Young males certainly, but they are stupid as you know, and merely trying vainly to impress the girls who are ignoring them.  I had normal Spring jumper on under my jacket, a warm Spring does not arrive in Edinburgh so I know how to dress, global warming has not yet made it real Tee-shirt weather in Essex yet either.

 

I meandered across the park, being studiously ignored by the old dear with the wee dog, and cheerily greeted by the probably, retired man as he passed.  People are funny.  In the past folks were happy to greet others, today many do not.  The many newcomers to town have lessened the homespun atmosphere and casual greetings are lessening.  Fear appears more common.  

Maybe of course it is just me...

 

I meandered through the town as the market was getting into gear, ensuring I avoided all the people I wished to avoid.  Naturally, one lay in wait for me.  A feeble excuse and I was off.  This is unusual, normally it is others who avoid me!  I was not in the mood for a man who talks like a woman.  

Some new stalls were to be glanced at, £20 for a bottle of liqueur,  several pounds for cider, and huge amounts for large slices of cake.  I almost hesitated at the stall with a old suitcase full of tat.  This is the type of box I used to love in the museum, you never knew what you might find.  I made use of common sense and left before I wasted a day searching and spending cash.

 

 

Spring may indeed have arrived.  This blackbird was happily singing as I passed, he left when the camera saw him.  Blackbirds singing are a good sign of warmer times.  I hope to hear more of him and his mates.

Bills, Bills, Bills...

To please the greedy EON Electric people I've had to stumble downstairs, then stumble further down the dead leave covered, slippy, narrow steps into the dim, dank basement to check the meter.  Brushing aside the cobwebs I managed to work out the numbers (I always forget what to do), scribbled them down, and looked around at the dingy surroundings.

 

 

I always find myself asking what that space is for?  These houses all begin with one room, added to over the years.  When did they dig the basement?  What went in that alcove?  This extension at the rear was rebuilt when the landlord took possession, possibly in the 1990's, I am not sure of the date.  

Old maps show the previous building extension but do not explain what it was used for.  It may have been used far back in the past but the building was bought from a doctors, they used the house as a surgery, I doubt they kept a pharmacist down here.  

 

The original steps down are seen covered in slime and dust and filled with rubbish donated by ex-tenants.  It never ceases to amaze how people feel free to dump stuff when they leave.  The old maps show the extension but at no time do they mention what it was for.  A wash house perhaps, with no water?  Until 1861 water had to be brought from the pump of course.  Nothing in the old census indicates the occupants employment.  There again it is not always easy to identify the correct name at this address, the census writers were not helpful to folks like me.  The latest 1921 census is only available on 'Find my Past,' a bunch of money grabbing crooks they are too.  To check the census itself, giving many but not all details, is £2:50, a copy costs £3:50.  It was free on Ancestry once you paid you dues!
 

Anyway, the numbers taken, back up the slimy stairs I slipped, ensuring the door is shut from rats and other vermin.  Before I creaked back upstairs I took a poor shot of our Bluebells.  Three of these come out annually, they have possibly been doing this for centuries!  Delicate things, possibly the original British Bluebell's which are illegal to pick these days.  The only Blubell's I knew as a kid were the 'Bluebell Matches' my dad bought to light the cigarettes that killed him.  Those bulbs bought now in garden centres I believe are Spanish.  Not that I would know, but Brexiteers may get annoyed.   

I inserted the numbers, once I found my way through the many pages, sent off the details.  Today I find the new bill, this tells me how much I pay and how I am £7 in credit.  I am never sure how these chancers work these things out, but they always come out on top.  Once, and if, the weather warms up of course much less use to be made of the electric or gas.  Hooray!  More climate warming around here say I.

Thursday Blah!

 

Been affected by a bit of a bug this week.  This meant little was done, so today was spent catching up.  Tesco for foodstuffs, including eggs which I forgot.  Sainsburys for eggs and other things only they have.

I forgot eggs!

Still, washing done, house tidy again, new oven still clean, emails sent, new second hand books delivered, and exhaustion has set in once again.  Though I did forget to eat properly I have just realised.  Tsk!

I just could not stomach watching Boris lying at the House on Wednesday, it infuriates me how he continues to blatantly lie and his party support him.  On Twitter, several who ought to know better give him support.  These use spurious biblical readings to do so, they also do not like the replies offered.  This is because these men, while educated, knowledgeable, and scripture educated, are xenophobic English who do not wish asylum seekers to come to their England.  The Archbishop of Canterbury makes clear the biblical message to 'welcome the alien,' and 'welcome the stranger,' but they use 'Daily Mail' reasoning to oppose this.  There are many 'far-right' Christians it appears in the UK.  Politics has ruined their faith.  I am, by the way, not popular...

With Twitter now becoming Trumps home once again I am looking for a free twitter world to join.  There must be one out there somewhere open to debate without numpties allowed to spue forth Trump nonsense.

 

Straw Hats

 

From a Museum Friends Magazine.

Funny?

 

ANZAC DAY 2022

During the Great War Australia and New Zealand 

provided a great many men for the war.  

 

Some 60,284 Australian men died.

Around 18,000 New Zealand men died. 

Add to this Australian wounded: 155,133.

New Zealand wounded: 41,000.

 

Several thousand others became POWs. 

 

 

Maldon Again

It is not possible to admire blossom unless you have sunshine, this was lacking somewhat as I crossed the park to post another offical document through the council's closed door.   I ventured through the town market early, few around before nine in the morning, bought sherry milk from the store and have remained comatose since.  I am beginning to like it this way.  

Very annoying that the other week I took seevral shots of the 'Yellow' moon and none of them worked.  I used to be able to manipulate the image to give a fair impression of the surface, recently this talent has evaded me and my camera.  I must blame the camera for this, surely it canny be my fault...?

 

 

Several commentated on the Maldon post, (well, two!) and in particular this man Byrhtnoth who led the defence of the nation.  This nation is the one beginning to be called the 'English' nation, though they were 'Saxons,' not 'Angles,' from whom the name derives.  The 'Angles' were found from the Forth to the HUmber, so why did 'Saxons' on the south east coast become 'English?'  Typical England, steal from others and call it your own.

The Scots at this time were busy building hospitals, schools, and benefiting others by spreading Good News and care worldwide...

Here, for those interested, is my previous post from way back, regarding the 'Battle of Maldon.' 

 

A Memory Post

Today is another boring day.  The highlight was taking the rubbish down for collection tomorrow and eating a bad lunch.  This comprised a (reduced price) veggie lunch which claimed to be a 'Turkey Wheat Protein' thing.  Having cooked it, been scared by the noise of the alarm that I forgot was on the oven, and chewed my way through this 'wheaten' mass, I came to the conclusion that it was in fact bread!  This I reckoned because of the word 'Wheat.'  Take wheat, mix with various things, add nuts, cook forever, and wonder why you did not just make a thick sandwich?  'Thick' was a word going through my mind.  Maybe I ought to read the labels better rather than just look at the price?

Anyway, here is an old picture of what was once a thriving port called Maldon.  A few years since I was there last, and I kind of miss being by the sea, even if it is just this little estuary.  Ships did sail far from here in times past, a great many of the Barges sailing up the Thames to London carrying various goods, often agricultural to London, other goods in return.  Huge loads often on the barges but only two men usually operating the vessel.  

Like Maldon the two railway museums will have been missing visitors.  This very evocative view of the water tower at the Colne Valley Railway reminds me off a good day there before Covid.  Quite quiet that day so it was possible to get around with little trouble.  A trip on the DMU was included, though we did not go far, and plenty to see for a museum with so little space.  I like that sort of museum.

 

When in Colchester one time I came upon this school.  It had a very attractive 1920's type building (possibly earlier) and above the doors there were signs indicating for whom the doors belonged.  We had nothing like this on our 1932 primary, though we were segregated into boys and girls, and today sadly the kids are mixed together at all times.  I disagree with this as male and female are made differently, boys and girls need to play with their own kind and this forced mixing is not good.  Even if they were separated on say, Tuesday and Thursday only, this would enable them to develop much better.  

The results of present day cohesion are all around us, boys who think they are girls, girls who think they are boys.  Confusion reigns in many young minds rather than being allowed to be what you are made.  Good grief that gives enough problems anyway, why did women teachers insist on this as it does no-one any good.

 

How many of you still have one of these lying around the house?  That is, hidden in a cupboard, unsused and with nothing to add it on to.  I have one in a cupboard, I have records, mostly scratched, and possibly ruined by the cold weather.  No way of playing them now.  However, many people are buying such records, money can be made, but I am not parting with mine...

Another Boring Day

 

How unusual to have no need to rush today.  Instead I sit here, fed and watered, while others rush past to work at pace, an occasional bus ferries its anxious load to the bus station, overhead Ryanair takes a mixture of businessmen and frolic seekers to Nuremberg or Turkey, the aircraft glinting in the bright sunshine.  A well breakfasted wood pigeon settles down in the tree branch opposite to warm up in the sun, in the distance a faint chainsaw like sound indicates work is continuing on the latest council white elephant, while dog walkers find hard work in leading their small dog in the direction they wish to go, but are failing miserably.  Another day has started, the workers employed, the 'elder citizens' less so, as it ought to be.  I spend a few minutes wiping the new oven, something it is unlikely to get used to, and contemplate the day ahead.  Rising at dawn is fun but leaves me asleep by lunchtime.

I decided to return the empty bottles to the recycling bins.  These stand helpfully in Sainsburys car park, helpful to Sainsburys more than to people I imagine.  Being lazy I lifted the lid and dumped my collection in noisily.  The clattering of glass reminds me of a normal Saturday night in Glasgow.

Foolishly I wandered into town, rather than the other way to cross the park.  This meant I found myself in tesco buying milk, and one or two other bits.  All this because I wish to try out the new oven!  

However, the best bit of the day was sleeping after lunch.

Why is it the sleep at midday is always more satisfying than the one we have during the night?   Especially when during the night I awoke at 4:55 and could not sleep until 6:30 when I gave up and rose.  This meant all morning while the sun shone I wearily went through the routine, awaiting lunchtime snooze.  No doubt I will not sleep tonight because of this!

So, another boring day to report.  Tomorrow will be similar as I need to rest my aches again.  Such joy to look forward to.

Oh, and I notice that the great revolt of Tory backbenchers has meant the Tories withdrew from opposing the Labour motion forcing Boris to appear before the House Committee.  Boris has lost far too many backbenchers, including one or two of the ERG, and this looks bad for him.  It may all fall apart soon.

Oven Warm, Boris Hiding

Today at 4 pm the boys were to arrive and deal with the oven problem.  

As expected, they arrived at 12 noon!  

I am well aware of their timekeeping!  

However, a quick look at the oven, a few screws undone, a quick unplug from the electric, and soon the old was out and shortly after the process reversed and the new installed.  

Not only new, but clean!  

Take a good look, it will not be like this forever!  

Not only clean but 'fan assisted,' whatever that means.  Now my chicken is slowly either cooking or burning, as yet I know not which.  Soon I will be able to test the fire alarms once again by rudimentary cooking principles.  

A good landlord is better than a mortgage any day.  

 

 

Boris was lying to the House again today, as expected.  

The 'Whips' are demanding all Conservative MP's turn up for the vote on Thursday to prevent Boris being forced to answer to the Conservative led Committee regarding his lying to the house, among other things.  

Will any refuse?  Will we never be rid of this man?  Even Tories want him out, only UKIP and National Front wish him to remain.  Whatever happens here on May 5th the local elections will see massive losses for the Tory Party, and Boris may have to face the music then.

Today he flew of to India, warmer than hiding in a fridge.  He climbed the stairs carrying a 'red box,' just for a photo op.  PMs do not carry their own boxes!

 

 

A Hard Day's Work

Dog tired today.  Ache everywhere, so much to do and so little desire to do it.  My only wish is to return to bed.  However, work must be done so, twice I set the washing machine in motion, twice!  Things are damp and half dried everywhere.   I hope the neighbours were out!  It appeared quiet, and at least the washing will not be done again this week.

I also contacted the landlord re the oven, they are usually good and will fix this tmorrow  afternoon if they can.  A new one, or maybe second hand one, will be installed.  Fine by me.  This one must have been here 15 - 20 years, and has worked quite well, though I noticed the thermostat was not always top notch a wee while back.  Still, for me it was OK, a proper cook may have fussed sooner.  There again a proper cook would have cleaned it more often!

After a trip to Tesco for the things only they stock, the rest off the day has been spent feeding my face on the things only they stocked, followed by large helpings of chocolate in a desperate drive to find sugar to give energy.  Occasionally energy appeared, occasionally a tooth crumbled.  

It was worth it.  

Tomorrow will be sleep day, no need to go out and merely await the man in the afternoon.

Life is so exciting round here....

 

I read the MP's are to debate Boris's partygate on Thursday.  I wonder if any will have the guts to vote against him?  I wonder what demands are being made behind the scenes for him and for individual MP's benefit?  Certainly lying and deceit remain in the air.  No sign of any leading figure rising to state honesty and integrity at this point.  If he did this would be fatal for the PM and possibly change the party back into a Conservative one and not the new National Front.  This however, we know will not happen.

Easter Monday

Easter Sunday was the usual gathering.  Almost all had washed and shaved, almost all wore their Sunday best, almost all were gagging for Easter chocolate!  

I deposited around 50 Cadbury's wee eggs for handout at the end, which went down very well apparently, not that I got one!  I trudged wearily down the road and trudged wearily back up again, ready for some spiritual Rangers v Celtic Scottish Cup football.  After eating what was left in the fridge I settled back to watch the game.

Now, my niece was coming to me on Monday, so having nothing in the house I was going to fill up Monday morning and prepare a suitable feast.  Imagine my panic when ten minutes into the game she emailed me to say she was half way to me (from Burnley) and would soon arrive!

Panic!  I trudged out again, unwillingly, to Sainsburys, as I got there a young man said "It's closed mate," as he passed.  So it was, as was Tesco!  I remain convinced these shops are always open at Easter, maybe I got this wrong, I never checked this year.  No other shop is within my walking distance, my knees would go no further, so I contacted them and they found some foodstuffs at the nearby petrol station when filling up.  

So, once the car was parked, the kid carried upstairs, and me also, we ate what we could and spent the rest of the day sharing the seven month old from one to another.  The boy was at his most contented when chewing a box that once held coffee sachets.  The expensive goods lying around were not as good.  

It is of course no surprise he took to me, his favourite Great Uncle, didn't they all when young?  There again, after a few minutes getting his bearings when he arrived I think he would take to anyone.  

The three of them have been travelling around the country visiting the family and friends unseen for years.  This child has travelled further in 13 days than I have in three years!  He has been manhandled in Aberdeen, York and Edinburgh, plus elswhere.  Passed from one to another, and often stolen back again.  I get the idea he is enjoying himself.  The parents are clever, now he has been seen by all the women their minds everywhere are contemplating what to give him at Christmas.  This will save the parents much money!  Mind you it cost them coming here.    

Even though they were only here a few hours I really enjoyed it.  It is around 20 years since we have had a wee one in the family, now we have one to spoil.  I suspect however, his clever parents will not allow this.  They are both bright, indeed I spent much of the time ensuring dad did not steal my books, (he is a Uni librarian) and she a musician.  I think this kid will be too bright for the rest of the family up north!  Throughout the day the football was on in the background, though following it was impossible.  It distracted the kid, and distracted the father from pocketing my books, I had to pat him down police style when they left.  As to the football I have little idea what happened in most games.

Bright this boy clearly is, when I carried him about telling him of my exciting life here in the wilderness of Essex he soon fell asleep.  Just as well as my arm by then was beginning to feel the weight.  

After they left, I cleaned up and found I was exhausted. 

The cleaning week was good exercise but tiring, the walking also.  I was knackered last night.  This morning there was little difference to that.  Eat yesterdays leftovers, sleep, make lentil soup, eat and soon sleep once again.  Though I did find Sainsburys open this morning to stock up I was so tired I just grabbed what was in front of me, sorry madam, and came home quick.  I ache everywhere.  

Still, all in, a good Easter Morning, a good Easter family evening, and a good cheap Chianti to keep me going today.  

 

Easter Sunday 2022

 

Broken Cooker but not Broken Hearts

 

It's been all go!

Or rather, no go!

Everything is falling down around me again.

The preparation for monday has not ended, though much has now been done. 

Energy is abundant, until I start work, then it fades rather.  

Good Friday was a 'spiritual' day, lots of pondering and happiness indeed.

Friday night was time for Inverness v Kilmarnock where Killie could ensure promotion by winning.

They lost. 

However, disruptions for me are abounding.  Twice the picture failed for no good reason.  'Cannot play' or some such warning came up, then suddenly it returned.  Why?  No reason whatsoever.

As it is I was already musing about another breakdown, the cooker.  The thermostat or whatever has failed.  It comes on, warms a wee bit and nothing else.  No grill at all, totally useless.

This with my niece on Monday approaching, looks like cold chicken for lunch!

Today saw me attend wearily to more items, the first job done, the second cleaning the broken cooker after fiddling with it for a while.  I had of course switched off the plug just in case.

After much failed engineering I gave up, switched on the kettle and it did not work! 

Thoughts of a new kettle, rushing about Tesco, faffing about once more.

Then I considered plugging the radio into the socket just to see what was what.

No radio sounded.

I wisely checked the main box, a switch was down, but not marked as to what it was.  I guessed it may help and returned indoors where the kettle now worked.

The cooker however, did not.

Enough now, that will have to wait until Tuesday.  The Hob works as does the microwave, but cooking plans have gone asunder.

 

 

Another Scottish Cup semi-final, another semi-final against the wee team Hibernian, another victory for the Heart of Midlothian!  This was of course not unexpected, History reveals the great gulf between the Heart of Midlothian and the wee team, just look at the record.

 

Edinburgh Derby

Games:  653
Heart of Midlothian wins:  286
Hibernian wins:   206
Drawn:    155
Abandoned when the Hibbys cried "It's ma ba," and went home while losing:  6.
 

Goal scored
Heart of Midlothian:  1102

Hibernian:   926

The 'Natural Order' prevails.

It was no surprise to find Hibernian players kicking Hearts men all over the pitch, this is what they usually do.  It was a surprise to see such an efficient referee allow them to remain on the pitch when other refs would have dismissed them!  However, inevitably Mr Newell got himself sent off for violent behaviour, something he knows all about.  

Once again the Heart of Midlothian approach a Scottish Cup Final.

Once again we have removed Hibernian from the game.

Once again the media will ignore us and talk about the sectarian Glasgow bigots.

Ah Well...

An Hour at the Cross

 

As normal on Good Friday we spent 'An Hour at the Cross' at St Paul's at 2 pm, this afternoon.  With an 'altogether 'service this morning, and a (short) walk of witness to the town centre for a short praise gathering in the sunshine, many of our lot did not appear this afternoon.  The bright sunshine took those with kids away, tiredness removed others, while I avoided the morning meeting so as to be at the 2 pm one, which is more important.

The last couple of occasions different people took turns to read a portion of scripture, the next read a 'reflecion,' then a 'response,' then a 'prayer.'  This year it was simplified and three persons only took these parts while we responded.

I have always liked such services as they require time for positive reflection, something normal church services do not allow.  It is as if we must get through it all quickly, no time to stop and consider.  Indeed, one man told me how he often stops during prayer but many in the congregation dislike this.  Possibly thinking is bad for them?  Today those who came clearly cogitated as we went through the booklet printed for this purpose.  Scanners and copiers are so useful in churches!  After an hour considering Jesus' betrayal, arrest, beatings, trial, opposition, and yet not one word justifying himself uttered.  Then there was his condemnation by the cheif priests, with finally Pilates 'passing the buck' by 'washing his hands,' and finally the crucifixion, not for his wrongdoing, but for mine and yours.

This is the Love of God.  

His love for people like ourselves who recognise how our natures are corrupt, just like everybody else's.  How God longs to love us, how he cried out to his people throughout the Old Testament, and how he cries out to each of us again today, no matter how bad.  Indeed even the Putin's off this world can be forgiven, if they turn to God.  Recognising our nature we recognise also that this death of Jesus was on our behalf, not his.  Death, and that on a cross, not something he wanted to undergo, instead it was something he went through out of love for us and his Father that he was willing to endure, and by this opened a way for forgiveness, new life with the Living God, and the hope of eternal life to come, beginning now!

Yes, in spite of the cooker dying while I made use of it, in spite of a possible new neighbour this week, in spite of gas and electric charges, in spite of my many failures, in spite of all this Jesus, God in human flesh, went to the cross for me and you.  So, not everything is as bad as it appears.

 

 

Charity? Not from Boris.

This morning I humped two heavy bags down to the charity shop.  I chose the correct business.  "I think my heart is overworked," said I wearily to the man at the door as he showed me where to dump the bags.  

"Eat better," he said, and shewed me the door again.  

Very helpful.  I will take the other two bags of junk stuff to the 'Sue Ryder' or 'Cancer' shop next time.  

This charity shop is one of those type that are appearing more these days.  You know what I mean, usual tarty stuff but well laid out, good quality, and high prices for what is on offer.  This is the modern way to run such shops.  In times past these were more like junk shops, used goods, not always perfect, but cheap and with a sociable atmosphere to them.  I helped, somewhat, in one at the homeless charity during 1971/72, though we often used the stuff ourselves!  That shop ran for the people all about and brought them in as it was cheap and the personnel cared for all the people.  Today so many big charities shops have become businesses that must make a profit or be closed down.  The Heart people have a furniture shop up the road also.  Now I grumble a bit while admitting I do buy stuff from there, and the furniture stuff is good second hand quality, well worth a look.  However, I love the tatty old style more.

 

 
Boris, the worthless PM, has thrown out another idea to save his skin.  This one means sending asylum seekers to Rawanda and dumping them all in Africa.  Not only illegal, inhumane and vile, it is what Boris knows will find much support among the less well educated voters in his shires.  The 'Daily Mail' is full of such offering support to Boris.  Years of tabloid lies, fear abounding regarding their future has led to such support for this move.  They mostly live in 'white' areas.  Whether it actually happens is another thing, however, Boris cares not, all that matters to him is remaining in charge, people, any other people, don't count.

 

 

While the people argue Boris grins and walks away.  Meanwhile hospital waiting times increase, Covid ravages the land again, 651 died in the last couple of days, Brexit causes 25 mile queues of lorries 3 deep at Dover, and prices keep rising all around.  Boris and his mates are OK.  I paid £25 in Tesco this morning meaning I must adjust my spending again.  Allowing for the chocolate egg for my new nephew and £5:25 for 4 large chicken breasts I note much of the shop was the usual stuff.  I still await the Electric price increase, though the lass in the shop claims hers has doubled!  I believe her.  Now, where is that Lottery ticket...?

 

 

Wednesday