Thursday Jabs

 

 

I received a letter a while back informing me of the latest jab for old people those in their prime.  I laid it aside as you do.  Then there came an email with the same offer.  Then, having ignored the previous mailings I received another letter and email.  I looked into this jab business, being caring about such things.  I went through the Booking procedure, then looked for a nearby jab centre.  Horrified I found there was one in a town 6 miles south, and one in a town 6 miles north!  Our town, the biggest and most important had only a visiting bus and that on a Sunday way down at the 'Braintree Village Shopping Centre.'

I chucked it.  

Later, much later, speaking to the wise elders at the village gate, I was instructed to seek further, as pharmacies were doing this also.  More letters ordering old prime people to the jab house arrived.  This time I obeyed and searched for Pharmacies local.  One up the road, of which I am not keen, was very busy, so I searched for a better place.  I found the place I got the last jab was free, booked myself in, and today I wandered in the rain down to their place, pressed the button on the locked door, grunted in the intercom (why have this if she did not know who was there), entered without being asked what I wanted, was greeted by a young woman, gave my age, received disbelieving looks, told the truth, and was taken through to the nurse.  This delightful black nurse, full of life and thoroughly enjoying stabbing people she said, jabbed me for the Pfitzner and then the Flu jab.  

In spite of warnings I have felt no noticeable difference since then.  There again, as I am always suffering the things they say occur after a jab I am unlikely to notice anyway.  So I am satisfied with the operation.  So simple in spite of what others go through, and not just because of Covid.  I have a friend who's mother is dying, possibly before Christmas.  His wife's mother may have gone before then, a cousin has terminal sickness also, a brother seriously depressed, and his church has several who may not last 6 months.  Another long time friend has just begun dialysis.  

I am grateful for my limited health problems.

That said, I have been knackered all week.  I took too much out of myself over the weekend and have not stopped long enough since.  At least tomorrow means nothing more than a walk, if I feel like it, to Sainburys.  Then it is sort out the Xmas stuff that has been left all week.  Time to pack and send off I say, before another post strike and before I run out of cash.  Then I plan the online gifts and sort the cards which are ready and waiting.

Good job I got a warning of a 10% rise in my pension.

The Chancellor announced his budget today, I did not bother to listen, already it has been torn apart, or praised to the heights.  As usual after a budget.  The very rich, such as Hunt and Sunak and his wife, are not paying much more, and the banks have saved money in a small move, hidden under everything else.

I am too tired to care tonight.   All will be well.

 

Remembrance Today

At two in the almost sunny Sunday afternoon the congregation gathered to pay their respects to the war dead.  Amongst them were many men, and a few women, who endured active service and saw their colleagues and friends suffer and sometimes die in action.

Before 1914 the wars Britain became involved in were far from home.  Colonial wars, Crimea, South Africa, and early in the 19th century fighting Napoleon in Portugal and Spain, before the end at Waterloo.  The public were not concerned much apart from the shortage of some goods, such as Brandy during Napoleon's time, and anyway smuggling was popular.  Soldiers travelled the world, fought and died far from home, as sailors had done for generations.  The public were involved only at a distance.

For many years people had realised war with Germany was likely.  Patriotism was at a high, even though History was badly taught, and the wide spread of newspapers, from which most people were informed, were at best propaganda, and at worst deliberately false.  

Being a soldier was a respectable occupation.  Since the middle of the 19th century the military mind affected all parts of society, so much so that William Booth's outreach in the east end of London took the name 'Salvation Army,' and not long afterwards the copycats at the Anglican church joined in with the 'Church Army.'   

The army had been reformed under the Haldane reorganisation, led by General Haig.  Now we had 25 Front Line regiments, of two battalions each.  One was stationed at home, the other abroad.  Also the various militia were reformed into the Territorial Force, ostensibly for Home Defence only.  These did however, allow men to play soldiers, learn the basics of warfare, and, in a time of few holidays, gave them suitable exercise at weekends and on general annual manoeuvres.  With a possible war looming did some men enlist in the Territorials in preparation for this?  

As any General knows, you plan for a war, prepare carefully, train your men, and off you go, and watch your plan disintegrate in the resulting stramash.  All things change once war is entered upon.  The UK found this to be true in 1914.  British opinion was led to expect a short war, a few months only they said.  This was considered likely elsewhere, even the Kaiser believed his men would be home by Christmas.  It was easy to forget that the Boer War, such a short time before, had taken some four years before it ended.  How dismayed were the politicians at the first war Cabinet meeting when Field Marshall Kitchener informed them the war would take at least three years and he must raise another hundred thousand men.  They did not believe him! The Generals understood what could happen if a war of movement was halted, no politician appears to have considered this a possibility. Nonetheless, when war was declared on August 4th men everywhere rushed to the colours, many afraid they would miss the excitement.

Come November 1918 opinions differed somewhat from the days of early excitement.  The surviving men who volunteered then were not the same men in 1918.  The world had changed, the war had been won, something people often forget, but at a great cost, both 'at the front,' and 'at home.'

The most reliable figures I have come across tell me that 704,803 men died in action.  Of these some 338,955 are as yet undiscovered or unidentified.  It is from this great loss that 'remembrance' as we know it springs.

The question "What to do with the bodies," caused much wringing of hands and cursing throughout the land.  Some people, at least those with money, broke the law and brought back their own loved ones, their 'heroes,' rather than follow the final decision to bury men where they fell.  Outrage abundant.  Bodies were collected, I think those doing the job, many soldiers themselves or often Chinese labourers, were paid six shillings a d ay for the often gruesome work.  Scattered bodies, small cemeteries, were collected together in large organised places near where they fell.  These today, run by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, are peaceful well tended resting places revealing nothing of the conflict that caused their creation.  

In the UK however, many did not have a place in which to commemorate their dead.  So by the middle of the 1920s local war memorials sprang up everywhere.  Large cities and towns created often huge memorials, local towns and villages did their best, even if it was just a plaque in a church.  On these were graven the names of the dead, alongside slogans such as 'Our Glorious Dead,' 'Not Forgotten,' 'They Died so we could be Free,' and the names of battlefields they fought over, 'Mons, Ypres, Loos, Somme, Cambrai, Passchendaele.'  A glance at such memorials tells much about the town or village where they are found, and the great cost to the population of the time.  

The return and burial in Westminster Cathedral of the 'Unknown Warrior' in 1920 was much heralded by many.  Women especially believed, some through dreams and visions, that this was their husband, son, brother.  Thousands lined the streets as he was paraded through the city.

At the same time a Cenotaph, made from wood, was erected in Whitehall.  The empty tomb lying at the top symbolising the missing.  This idea, copied from the ancient Greek fashion, was highly popular and within a year a more solid cenotaph, made I think of Portland Stone, was erected.

As the memorials closer to home began to appear in city, town and village, the locals turned out to 'remember' their was dead.  Many an Honour Guard on duty at the opening or remembrance ceremonies could well remember and speak of the situation of those named on the memorial.  Often not willing to discuss this publicly in front of the families.  Many names were of course their brothers.

Occasionally in the following years some were able to travel to distant parts to stand alongside their dead.  The majority however, were struggling to survive themselves without the 'Homes made for heroes,' that had been promised.  Thousands of ex-servicemen, especially the wounded, were more or less abandoned to their fate.  

The wives, mothers, children of the dead, and possibly those who so eagerly encouraged enlistment in their locale, now had a place where they could annually remember the sacrifice of their own.  An event continued until their own passing.

 Flanders Fields are at the right time ablaze with red poppies.  During the 1920s the idea began in Canada to commemorate the war dead by the wearing of a red poppy each year.  The idea carried on and now is controlled by the 'British Legion,' (In Scotland 'Poppy Scotland.') and is used to raise money to support their work with wounded servicemen.  It remains highly popular, and while some refuse to wear them, others have designed white, blue or black, poppies for reasons of their own, the Poppy is worn by the majority of the population during the two weeks up to the Remembrance Day on November 11th.  

It is something of a shame that it has been highjacked by many for reasons of their own.  Some consider it encourages or supports war, others, mostly the English Brexit fraternity have taken to it in a big way.  This is not to commemorate or remember, for them it reflects a historic past in which 'England' (not Britain) ruled the world.  A society that has seen Irish independence, Scots nearing independence and has nothing of note within itself bar a failed Brexit, desperately uses anything, the poppy included, to give meaning to their lives.        

There are questions these days regarding the meaning of remembrance.  Many voices are heard today claiming 'it was so long ago,' and people who served are now dying off.  "What is the point?"  Such people need to understand how History affects them today as they themselves are a product of these two great conflagrations that rocked the world.  As it is, in the crowd gathered at this memorial were many who knew an uncle or father who left to join the war in the 1940s.  Others have researched their family tree to find out more about grandad or great grandad and his war record.  Relatives of the dead still gather, remembering stories told by aunts and uncles re the one who did not return.  In spite of the time people still remember.  Indeed, since 2014 many more have taken thought to the war dead, and more so when they have relatives who have served, and sometimes died, in one of the UKs more recent actions, Iraq, Afghanistan, or at the 40th centenary of the Falklands Conflict.  The war dead are not just dead in the (to some) distant past, they are family and friends of many gathered at memorials on Sunday.  The two world wars affected each of us living today, at least indirectly, the lesser wars, which will continue until the next global one, affect many of us daily.  We would be foolish to forget those we have lost.

Remembrance 2022

 

PayPal Troubles Again

 

So, having called the 'PayPal' voice and struggled to get nowhere, after the phone line, still crackly, was fixed, I went online and signed in, using the landline to verify myself, and attempted to change the main number to the mobile.

This was quite easy, I went through the system, fixed it in, but it did not show a change, and logged out.

Yesterday, I spent a huge amount of money on Christmas tat gifts.  I used 'PayPal' to pay for them, and attempted to verify myself via the mobile.  Sure enough both the numbers showed up, sure enough I logged into the mobile number, sure enough it did not work!

It is always possible I made a mistake, I have made them before now.  It is also possible 'PayPal' is attempting to kill me.  However, I made use of the landline and spent money.  Today, two of the 'Etsy' lassies claimed the 'goods are in the post,' and I believe them.  Hopefully the two other shops also reply quickly.  I would like to finish this during the coming week.  

If 'PayPal' let me...

November 11th 2022

 

As always a two minutes silence is held at 11 am today.  Many, but not all, throughout the nation stopped for two minutes to 'remember.'  I dug out some photos of graves of local men, this one, Fred Bonner, he lies buried in the town cemetery.  He was wounded during December 1916 and landed in hospital in Huddersfield.  You were sent to any hospital that could take you at that time.  During February he developed Blood Poisoning, quite common at the time, there was no Penicillin until later, and died aged a mere 20 years.  

It is strange that when you are 20 you consider yourself a man, when you are somewhat older you consider being 20 very young.  A very young age to die.  It has however, always been the way that soldiers, from time immemorial, have ranged from 18 - 25 years of age.  Certainly many fight on for many years, little option for most, I think the Greek states consider you military age when between 18 and 60, and everyone had to enlist.  But 20 is a young age to die, especially slowly and in pain.  Fred was buried, surrounded by friends and family near home.  His brother also died.

Where is Jesus when there is a war on?

He is right there in the middle of it!

Jesus warned that 'Wars and rumours of wars' would continue, God is well aware of the sin in this world that allow such things.  We all know where it comes from, our human nature!  We all possess the same fallen nature.  Only the death and resurrection of Jesus can save us from this.

Two major wars, many, many other was since then, several still ongoing today, Ukraine, Syria, Democratic Congo, Cameroon, and other wars small and large awaiting their opportunity.  Maybe we ought to cease asking "Where is God in war?" and just give him thanks that without his Holy Spirits control things would be a great deal worse for us all.

Technical Hitch

Nothing better than having your routine disturbed at 8 am.  

Sitting seeking enlightenment via coffee and the online newspapers, the bell rang and there stood an 'Outreach' worker come to fix my broken phoneline.  I was not enlightened enough to respond properly at that time.  In he came, faffed about with the box on the wall, informed me of various items I could not comprehend, and then screwed everything back in and headed off to the green box on the corner, once I had mentioned which green box it was. He appeared to have not noticed the one at Tesco.  After two and a half hours of bleeps and flashing light from the router, and a couple of calls from his phone (which does not work well from the green box) he managed to fix all things and brought the internet speed up to 65, it had been as slow as 23, and the phone once again works properly.  Just don't tell my sister, or she will call it!

This palaver meant nothing could be done, so I managed that, and wisely shifted all things for today over to the Thursday 'to do' list.

Except of course I had to wait in.  'Parcelforce,' were delivering my box from Forres today.  It ought to have been yesterday but something went wrong.  I wonder if the 'Trunker' from up north got held up by those attention seeking loons hanging of Motorway gantry's?  Anyway, by almost three he had reached me and soon I was having pie and chips for tea.  Not luxury to some, but fine for me tonight.

What's that...?  Oh!

Tech Troubles

This has been as bright as my day has been today.

Stumbling back across the park from Sainsburys, I went for bread and milk and spent over £14!  How did that happen?  Anyway, attempting to be quiet as the woman downstairs was working from home this week, I found I had to make two phone calls.  This, as you know, is because of my landline fault.

After dozing working most of the morning on watching railway cab rides I decided to act.

So, after lunch and a snooze I got down to business.

I called PayPal after finding details on Twitter.  Details which just took me back to where I started and so after a while I got the phone number and called.

A man's voice, but not a human man, answered!

So began the questions, number, name , account, and the problem is?

After more faffing around and not getting this static voice to understand I gave up!

Steam came from my ears, tears from my eyes, and the woman downstairs took the dog out to get away from my whimpering cries.  Nothing I said made sense to the box ticking voice.  He did however, offer to renew my password, though as I canny log in this will not work, and he did not understand that I could not log in!!!  (enter red angry emoji here)

I sat, glancing at the whisky bottle, too far to reach and too early.

I returned to the mobile.

I contacted PlusNet, re the phone, once again.  This has been held back by my sloth and slight bug that bothers me.  However, well within the 20 minutes, an ADVISOR with a north American accent called.  This human being (take note PayPal) done a quick check, kept me informed, in spite of my obvious stupidity, and passed the deal to the engineers.  It may be my fault will be fixed in 48 hours and if not something will happen to check it out.

What a great ADVISOR he was, and I was keen to inform him of the difference between PlusNet and PayPal here.  Excellent service and hopefully a success.

Now, as darkness creeps towards us, the lightened clouds begin to darken, the wind pretends it is dying down and the branches begin to shiver as leaves flutter downwards, I am almost at peace.  

David Roberts

Nothing to Say Saturday

 

A Saturday, and nothing to say.  

Inclement weather, another fancy phrase for constant rain, fills the day outside.

I left before 8 am to pop into Sainsburys for the things forgotten yesterday, this to avoid the coming rain, and it was raining by the time I got to the front door.  Too late to stop, I returned 'fair drookit,' from my short jaunt.

Forgetting the bread also, as usual.  

Amongst other things not worth saying, I fell asleep after lunch, again, and enjoyed it immensely. 

My favourite half hour that.

Of course I will not sleep until yon time tonight, and wake at 5 am again.

I ate 'sludge soup' for lunch.  

This began as Red Lentil soup but ended up as sludge!  It tasted like this also.

I now have a contact at PayPal to deal with, but this means phone calls and time, so it has to wait until tomorrow, maybe.

My phone is still down, I need to investigate thousands of suggestions regarding fixing it, before I give up and call for a technician...money required, so he can wait.

Almost all Christmas gifts bought, almost.  Just saying...

Another non Saturday, and can do nothing until I have seen the 6 pm game on BBC Alba.  

I may as well eat something with flavour now, I wonder if there is any cheese in that mousetrap...?

  

Friday Frills

Once the early morning mist cleared this boy sat high up among the leafless branches taking in the sunshine.  Weak though it was at the time it must have been worth waiting for.  This Magpie may have been watching for the sun but he was certainly watching for anything that glitters also.  Magpies are notorious for thieving bright shining items, though they never find any in my house.  It is quite unusual to see him there, I think too many Crows live in the park opposite for him to hang around here.  I have seen them further away down the slope that leads to the river that runs through the town.  The trees there may be where they roost.

Another strange creature flew over the house a week or two ago, some form of Harrier I think, but my little book of birds did not have a picture that exactly fitted what I saw flashing over me.  It is great to be amongst so many wild creatures, and when I can get out of town I would like to sit in a warm park somewhere attempting to see more.   

It has all quietened down on the politics front, apart from Suella taking a £10,000 Chinook ride to visit a concentration camp for asylum seekers.  That appears OK with Rishi.  All things appear OK to Rishi, if he can keep his job and not be stabbed in the back by the ERG.  

New taxes, none it appears on Rishi's wife however, and the non-dom status for billionaires remains, including Rishi's wife.  How convenient.  

Starmer is still huffing and puffing.

Nothing else except WWIII outside as fireworks fill the sky and the stink fills the house.  November the 5th is the date that matters, tomorrow that is, and those with no idea who King James VI & I was will happily try to burn down their house in celebration of the failure to burn down parliament.  Maybe they have another?  

The mist and the gunsmoke have obliterated both the moon and Jupiter, seen here.  Pity as I would like another attempt at catching them.

 

PayPal Problems

 

Paypal, a very good idea, especially at Christmas.

However, there is a problem.

I purchase something, a magazine or a Xmas gift, I click on PayPal to pay, and log in.

Fine.  Always worked.

So, of I go, log in, and then they wish to authenticate me by calling my landline.

The landline that does not work!

I try to contact them, and they ask me to Log in!

I cannot log in as they wish to call my defunct phone!

I wish to log in, to change the phone number to the blessed mobile phone.

But I canny log in until they call the dead one!

I looked for an email way to call them, this does not appear to exist.

There is a call number, but whether my mobile will work on this is unclear by the way they have explained things.

Now with the important Heart game kicking off in less than an hours time I am not going to try to contact them today, I may still be there at midnight! 

I am now in a good mood...

Ha!  I have found a contact point on Twitter.  I will look into this tomorrow, the game is about to begin!

November Brooding

This is true!

In some ways I am still working through May/June time, and here we are in November.

Life is like this.

Whereas once, all was young and free, life was to be enjoyed, the future was an adventure out there waiting to be grasped, now it is just remembering if the dinner has been taken out of the freezer.

The adventure has slipped a bit, much has been tried and failed to please, and reality took away what was left.  There is no doubt that without the Love Jesus has offered me I would be a right miserable cynic.  Instead, today I am quite a content cynic, but not always a quiet one.

If grace abounds my future looks good, though whether this includes the walk to Sainsburys in the morning is as yet unclear.  With November winter is arriving.  The climate change warmth is dispelling and I had to wipe the condensation off the windows this morning.  I suspect the heating came on at one point during the night.  At least I am cared for, I have no worries re this winter, and the gas and electric people are proffering new deals, so something is up there.  Others however, are struggling already.  I suspect no MP is struggling to pay bills.

Tis the Season?

 

Several of my attractive young neices and great neices went to an event in Edinburgh today concerning Christmas.  Naturally, I offered this foto in response.  

Christmas events ought not to be in November I say! 

That said, I checked my shopping and found I was well on the way to completing my Christmas buying, bar the online stuff.  That obviously, is different!  To avoid price increases I shopped when I could, purchasing during the 'sales' and ensuring I began shopping at the 'Special Offer' section.  My lot would not care if things were second hand either, this Xmas that is just as well...

In some countries things are different.  In the Phillipines Christmas begins on the 1st of September!  On the other hand in Denmark I understand no Christmas adverts are allowed unitl 1st of December!  How lovely that is!  

I suggest each year to shopkeepers that putting 'No Christmas Music' signs on the windows would increase footfall.  I am not sure they believe me.  Having worked in a 'Cash & Carry' many years ago where such music was on offer, both staff and regular customers were not impressed!  A wide variety of quiet music, interspersed with appropriate tunes (of my choosing) would, in my humble opinion, be more appropriate.  No doubt some would still manage to grumble...

 

Wet Sabbath

 

In spite of the rain I marched of to Kirk this morning, full of joy, anticipation and cheese omelette.

Not necessarily in that order.

Dodging puddles on the rollercoaster pavements, keeping close to the wall when passing large puddle on the road, always a target for a special type of driver, and ensuring I did not trip up and fall flat on my face I made it well on time.

The need to arrive early is to ensure my seat is not taken by some nasty person who does not follow the church rules.  As we had a joint service with the other half of what they call 'our benefice' this meant many would arrive not knowing the rules.  Indeed, arrive some did, but as one man indicated "Our seats are safe.  Being Anglican types from one of the 'dressing up' churches, they will all sit at the back." As indeed they did.  Latecomers were seen to panic as they might have to sit on the empty seats towards the front, some taken by our people, and also the thought of sitting beside one of us upsets them.  I marked my seat on arrival with my damp jacket, and the one next to me just to be sure with my cap.  No one asked for them.  

The 'other place' is indeed a 'dressing up' church.  Robes aplenty for the vicar (who now runs two churches to save the Bishop money), candles, an icon, organ music and heavy hymn books, while following a booklet led liturgy.  'Our place' is a much more 'informal formality,' which some find disconcerting.  Being what is referred to as a 'Low church,' many of us have more 'reformed' type backgrounds, Baptist etc, and are loath to attend the 'High Church,' with its near Catholic approach.

I often refer to them as a 'papist outlet' but I am not sure the vicar agrees.  He appears to like that sort of thing.  Having met the Bishop, and upset him regarding his approach to the gay takeover, I have an idea he also likes the parades, bells, liturgy and pomp of the 'other place' and considers it more worthy than us.  I think we may take the attitude that this is just 'too bad.'

Anyway, we went quickly through the meeting, the songs were good, the 'other place' people have a choir and some of them can sing well, our lass praying scrambled her way through, John spoke with direct biblical truth, which may have confused some, and an Anglican communion was observed.

The we drank coffee to wake us up, some gossiped, I met up with those I have not seen for a while as I was off, all the young women asked for me, as you would expect, and I got a lift home to eat and sleep it off.  

Now I plough through the days football before going back to bed again.  That extra hour from turning back the clocks was an hour short I say! 

     

Meanderings

A surprise this week, the new Prime Minister is still in office!

Not only that, but few have made serious claims about his mental health.  I suspect this will not continue.  Naturally, his cabinet are lying bare-faced to the world, but that is what we have become used to.  Not much else will change in the near future.

The leaves are falling fast from the trees, the fields and pavements are overflowing.  Only the driver of the town cleansing truck, the one used to run along pavements clearing them away will be happy, all that overtime from 7 am tomorrow!  The colours are good, but it is always sad to see the branches revealed once again, and the occasional birds nest high up on many.  

The clocks also go back one hour on Sunday, thus giving one more hour to ponder breakfast.  Unless you have a cat, a dog or a child of course.  I may take the opportunity to rise early and stumble down to church.  Though rain is once again returning the minute I leave the door.

I am ploughing through three books at the moment, one has 700 pages of small font, and lots of big words.  It is not easy to keep track.  The other two are easier but football fills the air and reading is slow.

How did people live before books?

Writing only arrived around 3500 years BC in southern Iraq, a place called Sumar.  Not much later it arrived in China and South America also.  Was this because of rising populations?  Trade opening up? Before that there were no books, but I suppose story tellers filled the gap.  An evenings entertainment listening to the history or folk tales of the locale.  Hero's and giants, and some right old rubbish also.  A little bit like the UK's free press I think. 

How could we live without books today?

Morning

Another day of joy ahead of us this morning I thought.  Red sky, brighter than the picture offers, filled the view from the filthy back window.  As always I thought, 'Red sky in morning, shepherds warning.'  I expected a disaster to follow.  This has failed to arrive, though it did rain slightly, even the sky gets it wrong occasionally.  

I had much to say but luckily I ate instead and now have nothing to say.

I blame the sky.

Thurs...Wednesday Drivel

 

Another October morn with sunshine filling the sky.  Notice how 'Ryanair' and other early morn flights have criss-crossed the skies.  Most are landing at Stansted, others are passing over at 35,000 feet on their way too and from the US or China.  None ask me if I wish a lift.  

As it was Thursady I sauntered early around Sainsbury's, then, enjoying the experience of being outside I dumped my treasures at home and walked around to Tesco.  How the rich live!  I was a bit surprised to see some of the Wednesday market stalls sitting there, and slowly dawned the reality that I was a day early again.  However, I managed to purchase lots of things I do not require, as that is what us rich folks do, and more of the little xmas gifts that fill the bag.  

****

Back home, I considered watching the latest Prime  Minister fail at Prime Ministers Questions, but I just could not stand the smugness, the non answers, the bile, even though this one actually looks like a PM.

There can be little doubt that while he will amend many things from what the Muppet left behind, he has ceased one or two, there remains many 'Boris' problems as well as the 'Liz' ones to deal with, some will not end.  

 ****

The gas board have kindly sent me details of a new deal, mine ends in April, and I am wondering what they are up to?  Gas prices have fallen, government aid is working, and they are up to something.  It arrived this afternoon so I have not read it properly but there is a catch, but I know not what it is.  No doubt the blessed elelctric people will now do the same.

 

Football

 

SHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Footballs on!

Thunder and Lightning

Met Office

Dark skies, flashes of lightning, rumbles of thunder.  The sound of heavy rain lashing the Highways and byways around.  A continuous dripping hurries along at the back window, the gutters overflowing with the deluge.  The swishing sound as the rain lashes the street.  Cars, not always driving carefully, pass by splashing the water around.  The gutters cannot cope and rain sills across the road every so often lit up by the flashes, flashes which at least avoid the need to put a light on.  

The thunder moves further away, the rain eases, and all this reminds me of the day I was born.  Thunder, lightning, heaving rain storms, windows shaking and all this on an Edinburgh July.  The family interpreted this as a bad sign.  There are those who agree with them.

As the storm moves north east I hear a dog barking, a dog, that would hide under the bed trembling when fireworks explode is happy to want outside when thunder and lightning rage!

Similar rain, without much thunder, kept me in this morning.  The idea of walking in the drizzle did not appeal, especially as I knew what would follow.  Follow it did, heavy persistent rain, annoying those walking dogs that insisted in walking, and made me glad I remained indoors listening to the constant heavy dripping at the back window.  One day someone will fix those gutters.

This is not quite what Australia has been facing, it is not like the Indian monsoon, it is however, very like Autumn weather here.  Rain clouds coming up from the south west, carrying much of the Atlantic with them, brings a warmer atmosphere and a wetter rain.  Much better than the north west cold rain, often the remains of US hurricanes, of glorious memory.  That is, glorious because I do not see it as often as I once did.

A Quiet Week...

A quiet week, a week in which I decided to start Xmas shopping.  I like to have everything ready and off by December 1st, and so on the last 24 hours I have spent over £300 and still have some way to go.  The advantage of 'Amazon Gift Cards' is that they can be stuck in a card and the recipient buys what they want, not what I send.  This is better for all, and the girls, and it is mostly girls at the other end, prefer this.  I do not ask what they buy!

So I bought the cards, went back for more today, obtained other items from Tesco and B&M, strange the places Xmas comes from, and searched a charity shop or two.  Now all I have to do is organise all this in a sensible fashion and obtain cards to go with them.  Then there are the online shopping to do, but that can wait till nearer the time, and stuff for little hands round about. 

For those I popped into the museum and searched their overpriced shop.  I bought a couple of things, searched the actual museum for changes, recognised one of the dinosaurs on display, and bought museum honey and chutney.  Home then for the football.

How nice to see the team playing properly today.  'Up and at em' was the cry, led by Cammy Devlin our Australian dynamo.  What a man he is.  It was his drive that carried us through the first half alone.  After a few difficult games, missing many important players, we were heading back to our best again.  With the others returning, by Christmas we will be much better off, though probably out of Europe.  

The VAR experiment went well, Celtic lost out!  Without fair coverage they might have won!  Well done VAR!

Apparently we are aiming for another Prime Minister.  One of the contenders is Boris Johnson, liar, cheat and idiot, who considers the nation needs him.  Maybe he plans to kill another 180,000 in two years?  I wonder if the temporary PM will release the 'Russian Report' that Boris refused to release, as it contains evidence of his treason and all the Russian money pouring into Tory funds?  I somehow doubt it, decency is not her way.  So, the comedy show continues, we await developments.

 

A Sunday in the Life

BiblePlaces

 

Sunday saw me shuffling down to the Kirk.  

I have not been for a few weeks and it was delight to see how the young women crowded around me.  I did not realise just how much they missed my weekly cash offering!  My tired mind did not enjoy much however, the service was a long one, too long for tired little me.  

Not only was it the church's 53rd anniversary, but it was also the 'Harvest Festival.'  This adds to the time as offerings were made, offerings this time being items wanted by the local 'Food Bank,' which the church supports and is itself used as an 'Food Bank' opening.  So, plastic bags of required substances abounded at the front, unlike in days of long ago when a sheaf of wheat or two would lie alongside local apples, fruits and vegetables.  Today, a more practical, and sadly required, offering is demanded.  We have a Conservative MP, who is also the Foreign Minister (at the moment, but things change quickly under this government), the town council is almost totally Conservative, and the County council also dominated by the Conservative Party.  However, the 'Food Bank' in this town has two openings within the town, and one on the rather 'better to do' area just outside.  There is also another in nearby, and better off, Halstead, and one in not so well of London overspill Witham!  Conservative areas these, and the MP has not, as yet, visited any of them.  All of these are based in church halls, I wonder why?  Does no-one else have the care, or would it cost too much?  Maybe the next 'Harvest Festival' might be different, maybe of course, it could be much worse.  

On top of this we had a child baptised.  Now I am not one for Christenings or child baptisms, however, the CoE is, and the vicar goes along with this so, when a local woman requests baptism he accedes to her demand, and attempts to use this as an 'outreach' to those who attend church only for 'Birth, death and marriages.'  And as I entered, shrugging off the women, I noticed the first three rows taken up with men in suits, and women dressed for an occasion. "Strangers," thought I.  Easy to identify such as the rest of the church takes a 'Come as you are,' approach, and rightly so, this means visitors all dressed up stand out.  Funny how they all think going to church requires 'dressing up,' I wonder how those thoughts get into their minds?  It does however, show the lack of understanding regarding churches today.

I say Christenings and child baptism have no place in scripture.  Such are never found there, what we do find however, is, for instance, in Mark's 'Good News,' where the disciples are clearing up after Jesus has finished for the day, and the women then approach for Jesus to 'bless' their children.  Obviously, no major Rabbi of the time wishes to waste time on the women or their children, so the disciples lovingly tell them to "Clear off."  At this Jesus, says Mark, is 'Indignant.'  The Greek word he uses is a very strong word indeed, indicating how God in human form, walking the earth, saw the women and children.  

However, baptism, such as from John at the Jordan, and occasionally elsewhere, does not mention children, only 'people.'  It is possible they were involved, but no mention of them is made.  The 'Christening service' is unknown.  

Non-denominational churches, based on scripture rather than 'liturgy,' do not have 'Christenings,' but what I might call 'presentations.'  That is, new born children are 'presented to God,' and the church, along with thanks to God, promises to care for them.  Can I just say at this point, I am no longer available for babysitting.  

They are welcomed into the church but no demand on the child is made re belief. 

The reason child baptism is accepted is based on Pauls time in Philippi. 

When Paul was in Philippi spreading the Good News, he was confronted by a woman with an evil spirit.  She was a slave girl, common in those far off days, and not uncommon even in this country today, who earned much for her owners by fortune telling.  Demons have much knowledge and are not to be laughed at.  This woman followed Paul telling people that "These men are servants of the Most High God, and are telling you the way to be saved."  After a few days of this Paul turned round and in Jesus name commanded the spirit to leave her.  This was seen by the owners as unfortunate as they lost money, so a 'hubbub' arose and a crowd soon saw Paul and Silas stripped and flogged, then dumped in prison as serious offenders.  My reaction would have been one filled with rude words, Paul and Silas are found at midnight praying and singing hymns to God, with the other prisoners listening to them.  Clearly they had an effect on the others.  

An earthquake follows, not unusual in the region, and the prison walls shake, doors open, fetters loosened.  Not surprisingly the prison jailor fears for his life as everyone must have escaped.  However, Paul stops him and indicates all remain inside, revealing Pauls hold on them.  The Jailor then asks, "What can I do to be saved?"  The answer, "Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household."  Paul then spoke the 'word of the Lord' to the household, the jailor washed their wounds, and soon he and his family were baptised. 

It is this incident that allows some to accept child baptism.  The jailor 'and all his family,' to some, indicates children were baptised.  But I wonder?  

This was Philippi, a Roman town, a place emptied by Augustus in 42 BC and used as a pension for retired Roman soldiers.  Each man was given something, a wine bar, a fast food joint, whatever suited them, and that was their pension.  By Pauls time their sons and grandsons, plus other ex-service men had filled the town, thus the jailor may well have been a member of the Roman army at some point.  I see him as a man, at least in his 40s, if not older, with grown up children, at least of teenage years.  His position as prison governor would not have been given lightly, so he may well have been at least a Centurion, with experience of leadership.  Therefore those who reckon children were involved in his household being baptised are merely surmising that to be the case.  My surmise may also be wrong but I will not mention this.    

Anyway, the kid here was baptised, then, learned how to toddle freely, spent much time toddling around the church drowning out the vicar, to everyone, bar the vicars, amusement.  These days kids get more freedom than in days gone by, but eventually someone grabbed him and others and dumped the in a play room.  Being a special service the normal kids events did not occur, and this may have been a mistake.  The kid was enjoyable, and all loved him.

 

I did not wish to stay and talk, I was very tired, but enough people spoke and listened to my idea of 'TikTok' fame.  The results were disappointing.  " What, You?" was a common expression, "Fame?" followed by sarcastic laughter, another.  Some wondered if a live picture of myself early in the day might breach the 'Law of England & Wales.'  One suggested wearing a Burqa, just in case.  The treasurer wished me well in obtaining cash and gave me the church bank numbers but with a strong hint of sarcasm as he did so, his son, a 'TikTok' follower just banged his head on the desk muttering something unclear.   I failed to understand their thinking.  Other indications of a lack of support drove me from the field and home to rest my ego and remain in poverty.     

With no little relief I have finished my Turmeric soup.  I am now planning another, somewhat lighter, and this time I may even attempt to add flavour, maybe...