Costa Rica Coffee and Eon Inflation

I am Mr Lucky!  There can be no other person as lucky as I.  

Just last night, as I tidied up in the kitchen, I lifted my cafetierie thingy from the washing up and smashed it against the bunker!  

How lucky am I?

Luck was in again as I am hooked on Costa Rica coffee at the moment and without this coffee maker I was going to start seeing spiders up the wall.  At least, apart from the actual spiders that now inhabit my wall.  

Lucky me had intended to remain indoors this morning, stretching my weary limbs and doing nothing beyond my mental abilities.  So, you will realise, nothing was to be done today.  However, the Costa Rica coffee, which I had run out off, called very strongly to me, and by 8:15 I was in Sainburys painfully looking for a new, unbroken cafetiere thingy.  Good grief!  They had one, at an amazing cheap price of only £7:50!  'Only,' is a word used by shops to lie to the customer!  I packed my bag with all the required goodies, including the coffee cafiterie (You spell it your way, I will spell it mine), the bag was overfull as I was buying for the weekend also, and stumbled slowly back up the road, watching the workers heading into town to pretend they are earning a living.  

Back home, having remembered to purchase the Costa Rica coffee also, I packed away my treasures, mostly with 'reduced' labels upon them, sat down at my laptop and swallowed Costa Rica coffee, with double cream obviously.  

Wonderful.  

I cogitated on doing nothing but sitting here with my feet up all day watching the Gala at the West Somerset Railway.  Old Great Western Steam engines plied their way back and forth over the aged rails.  What fun! Several visiting large engines on show here today.  Jolly good show I say!

It was then I remembered I must take the electric meter reading.  

This, as you know, means stumbling downstairs, wandering round the back, lifting the large wooden, filthy lid, and descending down into the bowels of the building to where the meters tick away day and night, never feeling any guilt as they do so.  

What fun!

So, this I did and found going down to be harder than coming back up, somewhat surprisingly.  I also noticed the rubbish lying about down there, no idea where it comes from or who dumped it.  It remains a mystery as to how things find their way into the cellar.

Note taken of the meter, in spite of the dog downstairs barking as he did not recognise me, back upstairs, enter number, ('It's so easy' say EON, forgetting that making £3 billion a year is easy for them, not us.) and send it off.  Within 24 hours the EON AI will tell me I owe them £10,000 and must increase the monthly payment to £500 a week!  Or something similar.  

If only we had an election?  If only we had an opposition? Something could then be done about all this. The future is bleak, and will not improve much for the UK.

M&S & EVRI

I began this post days ago.  Life however, as you know can be tiring, and sloth can creep in unexpectedly in this abode.  So, having nothing to say, nothing appears to have happened anywhere, bar the M&S/EVRI incident, there was little purpose in scrawling anything.

Ah yes, M&S/EVRI.  

You see, for reasons of cost, M&S now make use of the couriers with the worst success rate, and lowest reliability in the world!  I comprehend the need to cut costs, and M&S like all others have problems, but so many companies now use EVRI in spite of the missed deliveries, lost goods and total failure of the company to do what it is paid for.  Why?  The loss in missing goods, customer satisfaction and return shoppers must out way any benefits?  

So, anyway I ordered, via a voucher, a belt.  A belt to replace the 'Cowboy' thick brown belt that has held me together for around 45 years.  This has been on my mind for a while, so I took advantage of the voucher, ordered some T-shirts, and then later, as they arrived quickly, I ordered an appropriate, I thought, belt.

M&S told me they had my order.

M&S told me the order was on its way.

M&S told me the courier had the order.

M&S told me it was being delivered today. 

Here I made my first mistake, I believed them.

The EVRI tracking system told me they had the goods, and the goods were 'out for delivery,' expected around 15:30- 16:30.

I waited in.

15:30 came and went.  16:30 came and went.  

I checked the tracker once more.

"Sorry, we cannot deliver today, we will deliver tomorrow." 

Lies!  All lies!

Tomorrow came.

Same messages.

'Out for delivery at such and such a time.

Now, I believe the main sorting office for EVRI is in Harlow, miles away.  This means this driver, who leaves about 10:30 in the morning, arrives here in time for the rush hour.  If he knows the area he avoids small packet drops as he sees no sense in slowly driving through two miles of traffic for one small packet.  So that is why the first delivery failed.

Delivery time came and went.

Check the tracker. 

"Sorry, we cannot deliver today, we will deliver tomorrow." 

More lies, more lies!

Being a long weekend it was never going to come.

I contacted, eventually, after much struggle to find a contact, and left a short sharp message.

A young lady, she says, left an apologetic note and refunded carrier costs, how nice, if I use them again.

Silence.

Nothing happened for days, I lost interest, relying on things to work themselves out.

I relied to young lady again.

Message came back informing me that this is not a sight answered by M&S!

I struggled to find a contact, none came to sight.

So, it was onto Twitter, Musk or no Musk, where I dropped a note publicly there.

An answer came an hour later.

Details exchanged, goods re-ordered, and on Saturday night (6:19pm) they were delivered to my door.

One small packet, that could have gone through the letterbox, was delivered by a young lady pushing it through the letterbox as I tumbled down the stairs.

At last!  Success!

Of course the belt is not as thick, wide, as the old one.  It is black, not brown, I hit the wrong button, but it does fit, and has space for expansion at that!

What a palaver over a small item.  I have the belt, and a few pence on the voucher still, M&S are still far too expensive, but I have the £3:50 refund voucher also.  The belt does not suit my hippy imagination, but it works.

And, today, as I began my repast the bell rung.

A foreign man delivering to the flat around the back, but not unusually with this building, cannot find it.

His English poor, so is mine, I point in direction, he succeeds in finding correct address.  I return to my dinner.

Will EVRI ever give me rest?

Sabbath Journey

Somewhat reluctantly I downed a rather too strong coffee and limped off to the Kirk.  Several things made me hesitant, the threatening rain which was gathering as I walked, the aches as I walked,and being an 'All Together' service I hesitated to attend, most remain at home on these days.  This service is run by the youth leaders, I always wish them well, but sometimes we have to grin and bear it.  

I slogged on as the rain spat at me, or possibly someone from my past in a passing vehicle did.  Encountering two woolly sheep like dogs (small Chows?) I spoke to them and they were more keen than the female owner to speak to me.  They are lovely looking dogs, and she was alright also. 

Entering the building I was met by one of the best men, the best ones are those who allow me to get in, take off my coat, find a half pint off water and let me sit sipping this while doing breathing exercises to recover from the walk.  The bad ones come over and talk.

Several came today!

As I scribble this I am reminded of how lovely some of these people are.  Especially when considering theor situations and problems, often serious difficulties.  One I spoke to had just returned from a stay in the NHS hotels.  He could not tell us much about it as the first he knew he was waking up with a tube in his mouth and nurses all around.  Clearly God has been good to him, the consultant the next day was surprised he was still alive!    

Being led by the leaders they filled the day with Five songs, FIVE!  This means, along with the readings, and other bits, we bounce up and down almost as if we are in a gym somewhere.  I remained seated throughout.  

The service went through its routine, including an amatuer short drama which made me annoyed.  Annoyed that I had left my phone behind and I could have been doing something useful while that was on.  

We made it through, Paul reminding us of the love God has for us, and is always with us.  How nice that is to hear, especially for those who have been through tough times.  We even had evdence for this in front of us, via the NHS.

And life got even better as the day wore on.  A lift home, a poor dinner, the fridge is empty, but at least in the evening Rangers got beat!  I realise this means Aberdeen are now five points ahead of us, but five games to go anything can happen and it is always good to see the old firm lose!

Now, it is bed, emails, whisky cocoa and a good nights sleep.

Rush for Raab

I sit here listening to the rumble of the rush hour traffic.  It is Friday, the industrial estates came out ages ago, Sainsburys has drawn the shoppers, and a bus or two is trapped among the rushing traffic.  The rushing traffic moving at a cars length every so often, thus allowing the poor taste in music once again to invade my space.  Single occupier every so often making for home.  Working men in vans full of expensive equipment, white van man, trapped by lack of knowledge of the area (probably Evri again), some cars with families, occasional partners, lots of grocery bags strewn across the seats.

It is almost warm, but not quite, however, the cars are warm, the drivers hot and tired, the kids grumbling, the wife also.  The sun shines in the window, one wishes it open, the rest closed.  Ahead lies the double mini roundabouts with possible work being undertaken there, good luck with that!

I am tempted to gloat from my window while sipping tea and looking smug.  

Some listen to dreadful music, others to various news programmes, so many and none worth listening to.  A variety of radio stations, run by rich men, offer alternative right wing slant to the news.  Few offer objective analysis.  If trapped in such a car at this time what would you listen to?  A CD of appropriate music, Cellos, violins, Jimmy Shand?  I suspect most listen to the same channel each day,  while seeking work and heading home.  Of course 'podcasts' are now becoming popular, many will listen to these, and a variety of podcasts is now available.   I have linked to many and yet never appear to have the time to listen to them.  Football, political, God, History, almost anything can be found, yet I never seem to listen to them.  This is however, the nearest thing to free choice on the airwaves these days.  But I think people will just follow the one that tells them what they wish to hear.

Some may be listening to the discussions regarding that nice Dominic Raab who 'offered' his resignation today.  Accused of 'Bullying' by civil servants in many departments, he has been ousted by Rishi to save Rishi's skin.  Dom did not go quietly.  His resignation letter denied bullying and cast aspersions on the ones to blame in a manner that sounded somewhat bullying.  There is no doubt he will be missed.  His place has been taken by a proper Barrister now, as indeed it ought to be, and a loyalist of Rishi has taken the deputy PM job.  How nice.

Family History, Berwick on Tweed

I finally finished the family History printing and sorting.  This was to take a bit longer than intended, as my great niece had manged to insert a child into the wrong spot.  It was as I attempted to work out how a man could be Baptising his child in 1815, when he himself had only been born in 1808 that I realised something was amiss.  Young Mary was sent to her actual father and was probably the better for this.

So I sent off what I thought relevant to the lass somewhere in Canada.  Hopefully she is able to make the journey to Edinburgh and Berwick.  I would like to go back to both places sometime, but not at the moment.  

It is somewhat strange to look at streets 150 years after the forefathers have lived there.  Outwardly much remains the same, yet the conditions were very different.  Gas lighting in the streets, if any that is.  Oil lamps in homes, horses and carts, Cows, pigs, sheep and other farmers goods in the street on market day.  Fancy outfits, all revealing class, especially from the upwardly mobile.  No NHS, leave school at 13, or earlier if no one looking, no radio, tv, yet there was an abundance of newspapers and magazines readily available.  Some like to think this was a better time, unless you had TB or rickets I suppose.

This little intrusion does make me want to look again and check all the facts that we know.  However, as most were farmers in the borders this means I must pay more to the Scotland People site to seek info.  Quite why they could not do a Scotland Ancestry instead of a separate organisation I know not, but I smell money here.

However, here is a short tour of Berwick on Tweed.

Barbers For Shearing

In an effort to lose weight I decided to make a start today.  I had a haircut!  Early today I limped round to the Market Square and entered the Barbershop.  Careful praying before leaving was required, Tuesday is 'Old Men's Reduced Price Day,' and therefore I wished to be first!  I entered a quiet shop. two chairs filled, and almost finished, an aged woman looked through aged magazines as she awaited her aged man, the quiet chatter continued as I slid into the seat and waited.

Shortly afterwards the far chair emptied, I was motioned forward, telling the woman, who done me last time, to finish the coffee she had been trying to scoop down.  She refused as by now it was cold anyway, indicating non stop work since opening. 

The chat was amiable, the hair removed in similar fashion to shearing sheep.  The machine bussed, the hair flew, large dollops falling to the ground as she spoke.  Eventually the job was complete, I felt a stone lighter, I saw my ears once again, and at my feet was sufficient wool to knit a pullover.  

I paid my £10, plus £3 more as a tip for more coffee, and almost skipped out the door past the five men now awaiting removal of the grey stuff.  I was happy, and the only dull note was Easter, when asked I mentioned I did nothing but attend church and the response was, er, hesitant.  A good shop however, but interesting.  Two women on today, clipping as hard as they can, though with many of the old boys awaiting there is plenty of room in the middle of the grey hair!

Back home I considered the jobs awaiting.

I ignored them.

So, back to ancient history.

This American lass wants info on the family line.  I have lost much of it and must scramble through what is left and what I have improved upon.  I am amazed at what I have recovered, and amazed at how hard all this is now.  Once it was fun, now it is difficult.  Especially as I am not back into the 1700s and unsure if these are the correct men.  Ho hum.

My father was born in Edinburgh, his father just across the border near Berwick.  The family were farmers, tenant farmers I assume, as they kept moving around.  It was probably the agricultural/economic downturn that drove my great grandfather into Berwick.  Here he ran a pub, 'The Black Swan' opposite the market place.  He also farmed 40 acres nearby.  This makes sense, his girls mostly ran the pub, one was deaf and dumb but worked there for many years, he could manage the small acreage, he had 175 acres before this, and my grandfather worked there also for a while as far as I can tell.  

Great grandfathers father also farmed, back in the 1700s.  How hard was this work?  His father also farmed, but it is dubious which man was his father, not because of 'hank-pankie' but the line offers one or two suggestions.  A lot of the lines include the name 'Robert.'  Father to son we see 'Robert,' and this name is found on all possible lines.  I am hoping this line goes back to the one called 'James!'

Now I am worn out by my mental efforts, it does not take much, and I seek rest and repose.  I may dream, as some can, of travel to far away places once visited, though the Scottish borders are not as warm as middle eastern places some have trudged about on.  I am lucky I can still make Tesco!

Sunday Sloth

A short service today, followed by an AGM.  Add in the end of the holiday weeks, a touch of sickness and pre-arranged dates, few people were around.  However, I bravely staggered along the road, noticing how it was almost like Spring this morning.  I noticed also the marks on the pavement indicating work was to begin on the area surrounding the double mini-roundabouts.  This will lead to long tailbacks, especially as work begins when all the industrial estates return.  

Spring like indeed but walking there and back was wothout a spring.  Knackered at home, quick and easy lunch, fortified by this cheap plonk.  Can French wine be called 'plonk?'  Isn't it supposed to be the best?  Not to me it isn't, and too be fair anything would have done this lunchtime.

So, at home I wasted time on mediocre football, and searching for news.  None was found.  With everyone on holiday or hiding from the press the media only features yesterday's stories refurbished, and celebs spouting.  Nothing worth knowing.  

Tomorrow is another day of fun, frolics, laughter, and laundry.

Ain't life great...? 

 

Spam History

My night out on Monday was a delightful one.  SPAM was a small meeting, the holidays meaning many are far off and only the 'leftovers' gathered for a cheap drink.  I say cheap, but £2:95 is a lot to one who is poor.  However, I worked my usual magic by turning up late.  This ensured they all had purchased their drinks so I only needed to buy my own.  

The chat returned to all the old favourite places, boring in many respects, but we managed to put the world to rights and agree happily with one another that we are right.  A little bit like a 'Daily Mail' comments section but actually right, as apposed to just biased.

Of course in the middle of this Doug decided he needed a drink and, as only five of us were gathered, offered to buy for all.  Naturally, having a half filled glass, I refused, but he insisted, so I was forced to accept a gift.  Tsk!  Such is life.

Doug and I then warmed to the Bishops motives, both agreeing in principle that something must be done.  At the moment we must await developments, which in the CoE means lots of carpets turned up, files lost, and meetings arranged.       

By now I decided to rise slowly from my seat and return the empty glasses, the barmaid asleep at the bar, and I did so the offer to buy fell from my willing lips.  Sadly however, the taxi arrives to take the old men home.  Being afraid of her indoors they all ran for home, sadly, saving me money.

That is the fourth time in a row I have got away with this...  

I received an email from a woman in the USA seeking advice on tracing the family tree.  According to the DNA results we undertook some time ago we hail from the same region (penury I suspect) and she was asking family questions.  Well, I sent her an immediate answer and promised to look into it.  This is the point where I remember I lost all the stuff  a while ago and did not replace it!  So, I have begun to trawl the links, not understanding half of them, and have missed half the day while doing so.  While it is unlikely we are directly related it is possible some distant cousin fled the land and sailed off into the west hoping for success.  I hope he found some.

Now my eyes hurt...

Spring, Irish Biden, Google Spit!

Blue sky above, freezing wind below, yet the birds are chasing one another about the branches, and the buds are beginning to bloom.  By the weekend we may have leaves once again adorning the trees.

Spring is the best time of the year.  The future is ahead, the blossoms and wee flowers begin to appear, the weather heats up, soon, and Blue Tits gorge themselves on thousands of would be butterfly's.  

How enjoyable simple things can be.

Nothing else has happened as most are on holiday.

Big fuss by the 'Daily Mail' concerning a junior doctors strike leader going on holiday when the strike is on.  They do not mention the Secretary of State for Health, who ever he is, is also on holiday, but that appears OK.

Joe Biden continues to astound, he fails to comprehend the Prime Minister, though neither do we, he mistakes the 'All Blacks' New Zealand rugby side, for the 'Black & Tan!'  He continues seeking US pretend Irish votes by stressing his Irishness, if he can find some, and talks down the UK just because he needs those votes.  'Special relationship' indeed.

Maybe he just forgot?

I have used a lot of swear words this day. 

I am trying to amend the war memorial and it just will not work.

First it does not allow me to insert what I was inserting, unless it is giant size.  There is no means to reduce the size.

Then while attempting to amend things the whole portion disappears! 

Where did it go?  No idea!

The arrow button brought it back, but where was it, and why did it go?

Eventually, I decided to delete that portion and start again.

This I did.  I copied the words, deleted, reinserted the words, and then the picture item as before.

As before it would not work.

In doing this several pictures decide to join in for some unknown reason.  Much of the day was spent trying to unjoin them.  Why do this?  The old system worked perfectly, so a 14 years old improved it so it does not work simply.

Now, after several words I have not used for years, I find I am close to success, except the next portion has disappeared!   A photo I wished to insert there, is also huge, and now deleted.  

This is not the time for a would be councillor to knock on my door and suggest voting for them!

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!  I left it unsaved and with work to do, later.

A Bee concerning Royal Mail

Royal Mail again!

The privatised mess that is Royal Mail continues to exasperate the public.  The need to feed the shareholders, paid £400 million of the £700 million profit past year, is destroying the service, or at least what remains.  The man at the top, paid £750,000 a year, has proved to be incompetent, sat in front of a Commons Committee and failed twice to appear in control of his company or his knowledge of said company.  The man on the street delivering mail has less control, less money, and all the grumbles this man at the top avoids.

Chris, our postman, works a three day week.  This is quite common, and gives employment to men over 50 keeping them busy and offering a decent public service.  The problem is while Christ covers Monday to Wednesday the rest of the week is covered by overtime.  Royal Mail no longer allow overtime, unless the entire 'walk' is finished!  So, nobody delivers here Thursday to Saturday.

My beautiful, wise and clever niece posted a packet containing family stuff to me.  It had not arrived.  This of course is the Easter Weekend so Friday and Monday are holidays.  WOB, the book shop, posted a packet of three cheap books to me and told me it had been collected.  Indeed, on Saturday night a Royal Mail man logged the packet into the system informing me it was with them.  This morning I checked the tracker and found the packet lodged in Chelmsford, awaiting forwarding to the sorting office.  Nothing today thought I.

At around 11:30 Chris rang the bell, offered me two packets, one from WOB and one from my niece. He also mentioned that the ban on overtime continues, his 'walk,' one I used to do, has increased in size by the addition of yet another street!  Madness!  He has not got enough time as it is to finish the 'walk.'

This results in certain streets being left until tomorrow, which is actually a crime, not that the man at the top cares.  He also made clear that he is no longer allowed to log packets in the morning before delivery.  If he does this allows the customer to know he is arriving, but if they are out it has to be returned to the office.  By not logging it in the customer does not know they have tried to deliver and remains ignorant of the fiddle until they happen to be in.  Customer service, not since privatisation at Royal Mail.

At least I have some books on the shelf, and a pile of old letters and photographs to work through.

The Conservative Party ideology is based on privatising everything to save state money.  In the long run it destroys all services, social, transport and practical, enables some to make money from shares, their friends, and donations aplenty to arrive from those running private companies.  Corruption is the word.

Prisons, probation, railways, buses, Royal mail, DVLA, Passport Office, you name it, anything privatised it does not work, too few staff too many board members lining their pockets.  Has anything privatised worked?

And another thing, stamp prices.  Now I think £1:05 for a first class stamp is a bargain, as it ought to be at the destination overnight.  Under this regime, a good word, it is failing and price increase appear unjust to many.

  

Rain

Rain, teeming rain! 

No real surprise, this is an Easter Bank Holiday Monday, the day people race of to the seaside for a day out.  Naturally the weather will be bad!  I recall standing at Craven Cottage, watching Fulham, including the great George Best, play Plymouth Argyle.  What I recall most is Best's superb work rate and ability, and the sleet and snow which spent much of the time slapping me in the face.  

This is the UK in Spring!

So, nothing for it but to watch English football on the laptop. including Braintree Town defeating the team that had just won this lowly division, and splashing out £9:50 for the privilege, me that is, not they.  

Being a holiday nothing else happened. 

So I am doing nothing else also, bar an evening at SPAM with the men.

The Risen Lamb of God

 

The Empty Tomb

John. 20:1.  Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. 2 So she came running to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, and said, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!”

3 So Peter and the other disciple started for the tomb. 4 Both were running, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. 5 He bent over and looked in at the strips of linen lying there but did not go in. 6 Then Simon Peter came along behind him and went straight into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen lying there, 7 as well as the cloth that had been wrapped around Jesus’ head. The cloth was still lying in its place, separate from the linen. 8 Finally the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went inside. He saw and believed. 9 (They still did not understand from Scripture that Jesus had to rise from the dead.) 10 Then the disciples went back to where they were staying.

Jesus Appears to Mary Magdalene

11 Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb 12 and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.

13 They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”

“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” 14 At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.

15 He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”

Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”

16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.”

She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).

17 Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”

18 Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her.

Jesus Appears to His Disciples

19 On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” 20 After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.

21 Again Jesus said, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” 22 And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. 23 If you forgive anyone’s sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”

Jesus Appears to Thomas

24 Now Thomas (also known as Didymus), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. 25 So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!”

But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

26 A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” 27 Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”

28 Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”

29 Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
The Purpose of John’s Gospel

30 Jesus performed many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. 31 But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

Bible Gateway NIV UK

Quiet Saturday

How quiet the morning appears when a holiday is on.  The rat race in the evening was very slow last night, and not because of the crowds.  Just force of habit caused drivers to dawdle at the normal speed for the rush hour.  Today, Saturday appears the same.  How lovely to think those that would normally block our streets in the morning are all blocking the road into Dover as they await a ferry to France.

Tee Hee  You vote for Brexit and then wonder at the result?  The man in charge at Dover claims the French have put on more staff, many on overtime, yet still they wait.  This, he made clear, is a result of Brexit and nothing else!  It is hard to feel sympathy.  However, those going through Belgium have little hindrance, that however, does not make a story for the tabloids.

I toddled to Tesco for bread, I usually run out when shops close for one day, and chatted cheerfully with the man in the queue in front of me.  We both glared thoughtfully at the woman at the front on the only open checkout while she fussed over what we considered to be 'nothing.'  Holding the queue up is what women do we decided, men always just 'get on with it,' and fuss later.  Two women behind me, with a few items each, moved to the next checkout when it opened, looking questioningly in my direction.  I urged them to go as I knew the man in front with a trolley full would be quicker than they with half a dozen items each.  And he was.  We sniggered like schoolboys and moved on.

Later that day my laziness caught up with me.  So I addressed three cards, two for Easter eggs and one for a birthday, all running very late, and struggled back up the road and posted them in the best post box.  The cards ought to be no more than three days late!  My unhealthy body did not like this dawdle, especially as my head wished to be refreshed by crossing the park.  The sight of greenery, council Daffodils, and a dog or two under a blue sky is very helpful  Such small benefits are huge at times.  If I go out tomorrow I must struggle down the long road.  I am not looking forward to this and may reside here.  But it is Easter Sunday, one of the two days in the year when the scruffy church turns up better dressed.  This is a sight to see.  Normally, only visitors make sure they look good before entering.

I noticed the two Crows happily avoiding me as I passed.  Also, I noticed the two Magpies who have taken up resident in the trees opposite me are still there.  This surprised me as I expected the Crows to see them off their land by now.  I wonder if they have noticed, or if they are just waiting their time?

The soap opera's of the wildlife can be interesting.  Last night there was much loud barking, this from a young Roebuck deer in the park, hiding in the darkness.  I heard no reply but his folks must have been about.  These are timid creatures, soon off at a pace if they see you.

Good Friday 2023

If my memory serves me right, and it sometimes does, 'Good Friday' was always a holiday, and a day when most things closed down, at least in Scotland.  Clearly this is not the pattern today.  Shops are open, football is being played, and while many do have a day off for a holiday they do not comprehend it does appear that Jesus dying for you and me, taking our sinful nature and ending it on the cross, means little to those living out that nature and finding no satisfaction from it.

Now we know that while many more people attended church's of all denominations in times past, we also know the minority were true believers.  Most were nominal, though many had some depth of faith.  However, the nation accepted the Christian holidays as 'Holy Days' and forsook most activities on them.  Not all did of course, and many who did observe cared little for God.  The false religion has long since disappeared, 'Diversity' is God now.  A diversity that accepts no equal and has captured the nation and no-one noticed.  The church was asleep and soon the church in all its forms will be outlawed for speaking out the truth.

Jesus however, remains in charge.  His death, while ignored by most, will continue to speak for all who come to him.  He is alive to receive them and will never turn any away.

 

 

 

Jesus before Pilate

Matt: 26:.Meanwhile Jesus stood before the governor, and the governor asked him, ‘Are you the king of the Jews?’  ‘You have said so,’ Jesus replied.

12 When he was accused by the chief priests and the elders, he gave no answer. 13 Then Pilate asked him, ‘Don’t you hear the testimony they are bringing against you?’ 14 But Jesus made no reply, not even to a single charge – to the great amazement of the governor.

15 Now it was the governor’s custom at the festival to release a prisoner chosen by the crowd. 16 At that time they had a well-known prisoner whose name was Jesus[b] Barabbas. 17 So when the crowd had gathered, Pilate asked them, ‘Which one do you want me to release to you: Jesus Barabbas, or Jesus who is called the Messiah?’ 18 For he knew it was out of self-interest that they had handed Jesus over to him.

19 While Pilate was sitting on the judge’s seat, his wife sent him this message: ‘Don’t have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal today in a dream because of him.’

20 But the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowd to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus executed.

21 ‘Which of the two do you want me to release to you?’ asked the governor.

‘Barabbas,’ they answered.

22 ‘What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called the Messiah?’ Pilate asked.

They all answered, ‘Crucify him!’

23 ‘Why? What crime has he committed?’ asked Pilate.

But they shouted all the louder, ‘Crucify him!’

24 When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. ‘I am innocent of this man’s blood,’ he said. ‘It is your responsibility!’

25 All the people answered, ‘His blood is on us and on our children!’

26 Then he released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.
The soldiers mock Jesus

27 Then the governor’s soldiers took Jesus into the Praetorium and gathered the whole company of soldiers round him. 28 They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, 29 and then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head. They put a staff in his right hand. Then they knelt in front of him and mocked him. ‘Hail, king of the Jews!’ they said. 30 They spat on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again. 31 After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.
The crucifixion of Jesus

32 As they were going out, they met a man from Cyrene, named Simon, and they forced him to carry the cross. 33 They came to a place called Golgotha (which means ‘the place of the skull’). 34 There they offered Jesus wine to drink, mixed with gall; but after tasting it, he refused to drink it. 35 When they had crucified him, they divided up his clothes by casting lots. 36 And sitting down, they kept watch over him there. 37 Above his head they placed the written charge against him: this is jesus, the king of the jews.

38 Two rebels were crucified with him, one on his right and one on his left. 39 Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads 40 and saying, ‘You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! Come down from the cross, if you are the Son of God!’ 41 In the same way the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders mocked him. 42 ‘He saved others,’ they said, ‘but he can’t save himself! He’s the king of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. 43 He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him, for he said, “I am the Son of God.”’ 44 In the same way the rebels who were crucified with him also heaped insults on him.
The death of Jesus

45 From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over all the land. 46 About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ (which means ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’).

47 When some of those standing there heard this, they said, ‘He’s calling Elijah.’

48 Immediately one of them ran and got a sponge. He filled it with wine vinegar, put it on a staff, and offered it to Jesus to drink. 49 The rest said, ‘Now leave him alone. Let’s see if Elijah comes to save him.’

50 And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit.

51 At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split 52 and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. 53 They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection and went into the holy city and appeared to many people.

54 When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, ‘Surely he was the Son of God!’

55 Many women were there, watching from a distance. They had followed Jesus from Galilee to care for his needs. 56 Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joseph,[f] and the mother of Zebedee’s sons.
The burial of Jesus

57 As evening approached, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who had himself become a disciple of Jesus. 58 Going to Pilate, he asked for Jesus’ body, and Pilate ordered that it be given to him. 59 Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, 60 and placed it in his own new tomb that he had cut out of the rock. He rolled a big stone in front of the entrance to the tomb and went away. 61 Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting there opposite the tomb.

NPR

ABBA and Judas

The 6th day of April is the day we commemorate the day the music died!  On that date in 1974 the 'Eurovision Song Contest,' which at that time still contained songs, was won by the Swedish group ABBA singing their cheerful, yet hollow 'Waterloo.'  Music was never the same again.

Since the early 60s we had seen music develop from the 'Del Shannon' and 'Pearl Johnson and Teddy Carr,' type of meaningless, bland lyrics into something not just filled with life, such as 'Little Richard' and 'Elvis,' but into real meaningful songs by the 'Beatles,' 'The Rolling Stones,' 'Cream,' 'John Mayall,' 'The Moody Blues,' 'Pink Floyd,' 'Deep Purple,' and hosts of deeply considered musical genius's.  

ABBA killed this.

Music that was attempting to change the world for the better was quickly erased and replaced by banal, bouncy, drivel, always accompanied by flashing lights, badly overdressed men and women, not always easy to tell apart, and cheap, cheery, meaningless trivia, which once again ruled the airwaves.

Where did this lead us?

The 'Eurovision' itself continued with dross for 15 years before realising deviants and weirdo's sold better than feeble music.  Now it is not the song but what kind of pervert that gambols across the stage that counts.  Any song with a meaning will not be tolerated, not that such will be entered anyway.  

The banal 70s bounced emptily across the screen leading only, along with Thatcher's encouragement of greed, to the absurd meaninglessness of the 80s.  Big shoulders and fancy perms, and the women were much the same, dominated while barren groups disturbed our ears with inconsequential noise.  No wonder some took to Rap as they considered this had a meaning for them.  Quite what that meaning may be is a mystery to me, however, it is the result of ABBA arriving on the scene and killing music.      

Excuse me while I cover my ears from ABBA drivel and revive myself with proper music, Jimi Hendrix and 'Purple Haze.' 

Oh that's better!

Arrest Duccio-di-buoninsegna c1310

Judas followed Jesus faithfully for three years.  He was risking arrest and death yet he remained.  We hear from the apostles afterwards that Judas stole from the money bag he carried.  Can we conclude that in spite of the work he had watched with interest, indeed, on occasion doing similar work himself, that he did not trust Jesus with his money, his future, his life?  

At the last supper Jesus informs his men that one of them would betray him.  Not one considered Judas liable to do this.  However, they all stated 'Not I Lord,' and meant it.  When confronted by Jesus Judas however, replies 'Not I Rabbi.'  The eleven saw Jesus as Lord, the Messiah.  Judas saw him as a Rabbi, a teacher, not as Messiah.  Whatever his motives, and it is impossible to understand what they were, money was a sideshow in this.  Judas was disappointed with his Rabbi and sold him for 30 coins, that is about a months wage.   

Once Jesus was arrested and threatened with death Judas offers remorse and attempts to undo what he has done.  The attitude of the Priests, 'That is your responsibility,' speaks much about them.  There is however, no indication Judas yet sees Jesus as Messiah, just a worthy man whom he has condemned.

Peter, having failed to remain awake while Jesus implored his father now fails again by running away and then in the house of Caiaphas three times denies Jesus.  He too faces remorse, yet he still believes in his Messiah.  I am right in thinking Judas did not see a Messiah and had no hope?  Simon Peter saw a Messiah and had some hope, though all appeared lost at the time.

Jesus himself, knowing his father and what lay before him remained in charge of what followed.

Bobby Walker, Jesus, the Temple and Anguish.

Bobby Walker was the greatest footballer of his generation.  Known by even English commentators as the man with ;twinkling feet,' and considered by no less than Billy Meredith the great Welsh winger (who had over 70 caps for his country) as the best footballer around.

He is of course almost unknown outside of Edinburgh today.

Born in 1879, not far from the origins of the Heart of Midlothian itself, this late Victorian young man moved to Gorgie, watched the Heart of Midlothian bring the Scottish Cup home in 1891, what a delight! and was destined to play for his club.  Beginning as a 14 year old at Dalry Primrose Bobby soon attracted the attention of the Heart of Midlothian.  Interestingly (I say) a picture, which I cannot find online, shows the team in 1896.  Bobby Walker sits at the front alongside his team, and looking at two or three faces around him I find I recognise them!  At least three of the young men pictured are identical with three of the young men who formed the crowd following the Heart of Midlothian during the 1960s.  The family resemblance is too strong to ignore.  I did not know these men as they came on other buses, but they are descended from members of this team.

During 1896 the Heart of Midlothian defeated Hibernians by 3 goals to 1 at Logie Green in Edinburgh.  Amongst the crowd was Bobby Walker, aged 17 and soon to sign himself for this great side.

From his first game for the club, a friendly two all draw against Sunderland, until his last in 1913, a Roseberry Cup semi-final against St Bernard's, Bobby Walker established himself as one of Scotland's greatest ever footballers.

If you read the Glasgow press this fact may have escaped you however.

In those far off days Scotland had two international sides, the SFA Scotland side, and the Scottish League side, both of equal importance then.  Of course we only played against Wales, Ireland and England, no other nation was considered worthy enough to challenge regularly.  However, Bobby Walker obtained a record number of International 'caps,' 29 in all, including an amazing 11 caps against England, another record.

Speaking of records, he managed to play against Hibernians 94 times!  There were many more leagues, cups and friendly games in those days.  He also scored 17 times against Hibernians at Easter Road, even John Roberson in the 80s could only manage 15 there.  Keep in mind Hibernians great centre forward Laurie Reilly only managed 7 against the Hearts and you can tell something of the mans talent.

There is no doubt that his talent was recognised by all in the day, only injury or his own desire stopped him getting more rewards for his ability.   

After football he continued to play in friendlies, though his health was not always good.  At least this avoided his participation in the Great War.  However, his financial dealings were not wise, his pubs lost money, his wife appeared to commit suicide, and he himself did not help by drinking.  A great curse amongst Scots is the drink!  Far too many die from the after effects.  It is to be hoped today's players are encouraged to a different lifestyle to aid long term health.

Bobby Walker died during August 1930, and was buried in Merchison cemetery not far from Tynecastle Park which he graced for so long.  Huge crowds lined the streets as his coffin passed by.  A rather tragic end to a great footballer.

This book comprised much written by Bobby himself in his autobiography, lots of photographs from the time, and masses of statistics at the end to please the most fervent statto.  It is a long read, going year by year of his career, and invites us into a foreign world from the turn of the  century and before the Great War.  So near in time, yet so different from today.  Yet the tale of one talented young man making it to the top in football is no different.  Spotted at a young level, signed and escorted by players more senior to him whom he knew.  And capable of making the most of his talent, and obtaining great reward for it.  He was earning £6 a week at times, a soldier only got 10/- (ten shillings) and many people earned less!  

For fans of football and history this is a book well worth reading.  The man speaks for himself, the pictures and reports speak for the times.  The talent speaks for itself.   

On Palm Sunday, though it was not called this at the time, Jesus entered the Temple and upset all the tables of those making money.  This was not just a bad temper, the area in which these money changers and merchants were operating was the 'Court of the Gentiles.'  This area was where all people could come and worship the God of the whole earth, not just Jews, the 'chosen people.'  Instead of prayer what we see are money changers.  A rule had arisen that only Temple money could be used, so someone was getting rich.  The animals brought for sacrifice were rejected as 'not good enough' and only those on sale, at a price, could be used, pigeons, for the poorest, lambs for the wealthier, all at a price using Temple money.  No wonder Jesus was upset!  This was a Temple area set out as 'a place of prayer, for all nations,'  and instead it was a capitalists dream.  No wonder the tables were overturned, the animals set free.  

The word 'sorrow' used here as you know is perilupos which is not covered by sorrow.  'Very sad,' 'deeply grieved,' or 'exceeding sorrowful,' says 'Vines Expository Dictionary of NT words.'  Here is a man who bows before his father knowing that this cross is the only way to save mankind.  Before him lies arrest, opposition, hatred, lies and beatings before being falsely found guilty of being what he is, the 'Son of God!'  

He takes his disciples with him, only eleven are left, with the closet three nearby.  Three times he appeals to his father for this to be taken from him, but there is no other way.  He wrestles with giving up himself to physical assault and then crucifixion, and then separation from his father for the only time in eternity, all for you.  Jesus the man has to choose whether to suffer this because you and I sin, and care little about it, or whether he should keep his body, return to his father and let us all be lost, suffering Hell, the separation from God for ever.  

He chooses to accept the fathers lead, all the while he struggles and his closest friends forget him and fall asleep.  How very like me.