Begg for Sunday

 

I refrained from going out this morning, instead I listened to Alistair Begg on Samuel.  I was listening to the third of his sermons on Samuel, however, this is the introduction one, that gives some idea of what he is doing.  A good man, speaking with a good accent, which he moved to Edinburgh so he could learn how to speak properly. 

Worth a listen, 37 minutes.

Ancestry and Nicola

Another month has raced by, I did not really notice it as it passed by so quickly.

Another day spent trawling other people's findings on Ancestry to enable me to speed up the search for my friends family.  All very interesting, but so much information is missing.  However, I am back to 1777 which, some of you will remember, was a good year with the English army being defeated by the American rebels.  No tea was hurt in the making of these battles.

This family had a hard life at all times.  Mostly agricultural labourers, with some losing several children before they were 10.  Not unusual for the time however, losing a 5 year old and a 7 year old six months later must have taken a toll.

So I slogged away at this, quite warm as the laundry was drying on the heaters, and gave up before my head exploded.  Almost immediately an e-mail arrived with info regarding the Great War memorial.  A wee bit confused so that will be the task tomorrow, my mind has stopped now.

Not a fan of the ex-First Minister, however, from what I have seen of the Covid Inquiry yesterday there was little attempt to uncover facts, just unmitigated assault on a woman they all fear.  Both Alex Salmon and Nicola Sturgeon are powerful politicians, and Westminster fears them.  They know either could enable Scotland to lose its colonial position, a move that would weaken England greatly, so all media was brought to bear on Nicola.  

The English fear and loathe her because of their fear.  I was dropped from one 'Daily Mail' column because people disliked my support for her stance.  Tee Hee, how they hate easily.  The imperialist English cannot cope with Scots putting them in their place, and you can bet there is much more of this to come soon.

    My router keeps failing so I may find myself in this position sometime soon...

 

Palin's Uncle and Mithras, as it were...

Having been touring Ancestry myself recently I found it interesting that Michael Palin, famous from all his many TV appearances, would have been doing similar, though he being able to afford a proper genealogist to do much of the hard work for him.  However, he had to do his part, aided by documents, diaries, letters and so on that were donated to him from various family members.  Luckily, his family dated back into the mid-Victorian era, a time where such people kept all letters for posterity.  My Grandfather dated from a similar era and if there are any letters, bar demands for rent, they have disappeared into his first family vaults somewhere.  Such documents are treasure trove to a family history detective.  They give information and insight into the person like nothing else.  That is, if they speak their mind and not just simple messages.  

The author decided to investigate the Black Sheep of the family, his Great Uncle Harry.  Harry was the 7th child of the Vicar of Linton, a typical well-to-do family, with their own particular history.  However, though all the boys attended Shrewsbury School, one of those famous 'Public Schools' that only the rich can afford, two brothers went on to do well, one a doctor and the other a solicitor.  Harry failed at school, that is he left after two months, and was clearly not one to follow his family paths.

Palin follows Harry as the family send him to India, hoping the Raj will stimulate what all good Victorians sought, success according to the fashion of the day.  He spends 3 years in an unsatisfactory job, at least the railway thought him 'unsatisfactory,' and was then dumped on a tea plantation in the hope he would 'make something of himself.'  This too failed.  Clearly he as not built for such things.  

The story unfolds as Great Uncle Harry, though he would not have called himself that at the time, made his way to New Zealand, worked on a farm, possibly found some happiness, yet when war was declared in 1914 he joined the colours like thousands of others.  

What made men beginning a new life thousands of miles from home enlist to save the 'old country?'  

We follow Harry through the 'Nzeders' at Gallipoli, and then on to the 'Western Front.'  Here, somewhat inevitably Harry perishes on the Somme.  

Michael Palin makes a good effort at trying to piece together a  story, a story in which so much is missing.  No living person spoke to Harry, Harry himself did not reveal much of his thoughts in his letters and diary.  So the author has to guess rather too much at what was going through the mans mind as he moved around and 'sought himself,' as the Hippies used to.  Though there are gaps in the story I still found it interesting and the book easy to read.  Well worth a glance I say.

Another example of Rhiaan's research 

Sabbath Begg

They said the new moon was different from all the other moons so the other night I had a quick look.  However, having looked closely at the thing it appeared to be the old one returning once again.  If however, there are other moons out there surely they would have either appeared brightly high in the sky, or possibly only during the day when one of the suns was up and therefore hidden?  All this astronomical stuff confuses me... 

I found myself with one of those 24 bugs this morning, though it was not there 24 hours ago.  I skipped breakfast and after some hesitation remained indoors.  This it turned out was a good idea.  Not only could I wallow in self pity but I could listen to some music, better than what was on offer at the Kirk today, also I chose to listen to an old Alistair Begg talk.

This was from 2019 and is his beginning of wandering through 1 Samuel.   I have already heard some of these and decided to start at the beginning and possibly, work through the lot.  This will take time, todays sermon was 37 minutes, and requires listening.  This I am not used to.  

While he has based himself in Cleveland, USA, and even become a US citizen after all these years there, he still retains his proper Scottish accent.  This he developed properly by working at Charlotte Chapel, then in Rose Street.  It is not unusual for those from the west to move to Edinburgh to learn how to speak properly.  His easy manner, developed over many years, makes him easy to listen to, his biblical knowledge is good, and he ranks amongst the better speakers of the day.

Anyway, this is how I spent my day while watching poor English football, a small riot, and easing my insides back into play.  That may take a bit longer, and I need to lose pounds.    

Naturally, being so popular at the KIrk no-one has contacted me to check on my welfare...

And when you are not eating what arrives on screen...?

His and Hers you will note...

Research

 

 

I foolishly agreed to search for a friend on Ancestry.  So, cheerfully I began the search, cheefrully I continued, until less cheerfully I could not find Joshua.  After much searching I gave up.  Yesterday I tried again, this time looking for the man's actual name!  I had asumed the name 'Josey' was short for 'Joshua' or some such but I was wrong.  They already had a 'Joshua' so called him Josey.  I suppose when you have 9 kids you lose interest in names?  

Anyway, I have been trapped here behind a laptop, finding info and screaming quietly as things went wrong, the laptop hit the wrong button, and things disappeared again.  Just like old times!

This morning I finally found a wife.  That is, she was not on the 1881 census, but as several kids were I knew she had to exist somewhere.  It appears she passed on between 1872 and 1881.  Possibly with the last child, but this I canny confirm.

Just think, 9 children all living plus 3 either miscarraige or still birth.

However, I had enough by this time, he can have what I have found and wait until next week for the rest.

I hope he realises his folks never married...

 

The Harbour Window, 1910 Stanhope Forbes

 

Burns Night 2024

Naturally, on Burns night we all know how to celebrate his birth.  Haggis, neeps and tatties, with whisky to wash it down.  Being unable to obtain a proper Haggis from way up north I had to 'make do and mend.'  So tonight I had egg and chips.  Rabbie would be proud of my ingenuity.  

On Turning Her Up in Her Nest with the Plough,
November, 1785

To a Mouse

Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim’rous beastie,
O, what a panic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi’ bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee,
Wi’ murdering pattle!

I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
An’ justifies that ill opinion
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion
An’ fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave
‘S a sma’ requet;
I’ll get a blessin wi’ the lave,
An’ never miss’t!

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
Its silly wa’s the win’s are strewin!
An’ naething, now, to big a new ane,
O’ foggage green!
An’ bleak December’s win’s ensuing,
Baith snell an’ keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an’ waste,
An’ weary Winter comin fast,
An’ cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro’ thy cell.

That wee bit heap o’ leaves and stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou’s turned out, for a’ thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the Winter’s sleety dribble,
An’ cranreuch cauld!

But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best-laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!

Still thou are blest, compared wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e’e,
On prospects drear!
An’ forward, tho’ I cannot see,
I guess an’ fear!

Strange to say I remember nothing about Burns being taught at my school.  We did have to memorise 'Monarch of the Glen,' which I have long since forgotten, and this was nothing to compare with Burns output.  Maybe Burns would have been too radical for our 'Simple Simon' school? 

A Man's a Man for a' That

Is there for honest Poverty
That hings his head, an’ a’ that;
The coward-slave, we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a’ that!
For a’ that, an’ a’ that.
Our toils obscure an’ a’ that,
The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,
The Man’s the gowd for a’ that.

What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey, an’ a that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine;
A Man’s a Man for a’ that:
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Their tinsel show, an’ a’ that;
The honest man, tho’ e’er sae poor,
Is king o’ men for a’ that.

Ye see yon birkie ca’d a lord,
Wha struts, an’ stares, an’ a’ that,
Tho’ hundreds worship at his word,
He’s but a coof for a’ that.
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
His ribband, star, an’ a’ that,
The man o’ independent mind,
He looks an’ laughs at a’ that.

A Prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, an’ a’ that!
But an honest man’s aboon his might –
Guid faith, he mauna fa’ that!
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
Their dignities, an’ a’ that,
The pith o’ Sense an’ pride o’ Worth
Are higher rank than a’ that.

Then let us pray that come it may,
As come it will for a’ that,
That Sense and Worth, o’er a’ the earth
Shall bear the gree an’ a’ that.
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
It’s comin yet for a’ that,
That Man to Man the warld o’er
Shall brithers be for a’ that.

---

Some in our class would struggle to comprehend Burns, though most of us would have been glad to consider him.  I wonder why he was never mentioned?  I am convinced our teachers would have been keen on a 'Burn's Supper' or two.  

Whether they would all have joined in with our singing of this is questionable.  The SNP were not yet a force, the war was a mere 20 years away, most had done something for their King and Country.  Scots independence may not have found a home in some teachers, but it is not possible to know from this distance.

Scots Wha Hae

Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led,
Welcome to your gory bed,—
Or to victorie.—

Now ’s the day, and now’s the hour;
See the front o’ battle lour;
See approach proud Edward’s power,
Chains and Slaverie.—

Wha will be a traitor-knave?
Wha can fill a cowards’ grave?
Wha sae base as be a Slave?
—Let him turn and flie.—

Wha for Scotland’s king and law,
Freedom’s sword will strongly draw,
Free-Man stand, or Free-Man fa’,
Let him follow me.—

By Oppression’s woes and pains!
By your Sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!

Lay the proud Usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty ’s in every blow!
Let us Do—or Die!!!

Robert Burns did lead a hard life.  We were taught, now I recall one primary teacher telling us, that he died because of his hard work on the farm.  No suggestion of drinking too much, womanising, or any other problem.  

Talking of womanising...

Poems from the Scottish Poetry Library

Computer Slow

 

I asked a 13 years old tech kid for help with a slow computer.  It was driving me mad, especially with football to watch tonight.  He came round, pouted, muttered things, played awful music, and got to work.

A few buttons pushed, lots of things deleted, at least that I know now, and then the case was opened and we found out why things were going so slowly.  

The AI had not been fed properly.  Tsk!  I should have realised...

Nothing to Say, Again

It is very much this time again.  Nothing to say, and lots of it about.

The political world has become just a farce, so bad that satire cannot cover this.  Rishi is in hiding, Hunt is boasting from a dark room, Starmer is asking 'Conservative Home' what to say, and Ed Davey is forgetting the £200,000 he made sending PO workers to jail.  Every so often a Tory grandee will appear on TV and attempt to prove Donald Trump is not the worst liar in the world.  Two have appeared on interviews to indicate the 'leftie BBC bias,' neither could provide any, however, one suggested 10 minutes of the 'News Quiz,' a satirical programme on Radio 4, was biased for 10 minutes.  As this was pointed out not to be actual 'news' but satire, he had no answer, nor any other evidence.  This bas claim all begins and ends with the 'Daily Mail' and Murdoch! 

In Gaz Netanyahu is hoping to exterminate them all, not for biblical reasons as far as I can see, though to be fair he would not recognise them if it were, but to keep his job and wipe out all Arabs.  God is controlling the world, what is he allowing here?

The media are filled with important stories concerning celebs divorces, films, records, and general PR stunts.  Or else  a woman falling down stairs, cutting her finger on paper, and printing any 'human interest' story to avoid mentioning the needs of the hour.  Their owners would not like this.    

Much space given over to the 'terror' of a storm.  The type of storm we have endured every winter for 20,000 years, but the tabloids insist is the worst.  Maybe climate change is responsible you say?  They do not respond.

Anyway, if the rain puts off tonight's football I will be annoyed.  Especially as our friend Mike will be sitting being drenched there while I moan at the cameraman to 'wipe the lens.'  And drink tea...

Saturday

 

This has been me the past few days.  

Sitting puffed up by the heater, trying to catch the sun.

Nothing much else happened.

However, that Costa Rica superstar headed our first goal today and overall played well.

Ah well, back to the single malt...

 

A Wander

Yesterday morning, enticed out by a bright sun and deep blue sky, and also reduced prices for old men on Tuesdays, I wandered around to the 'Esquire Barber Shop' for a haircut.  A short prayer to ensure there were no queues succeeded, and one of the three busy lassies were soon tidying up the mess above my head. 

Leaving behind enough gray hair to make a 'Dulux Dog' I wandered about our ancient city contemplating the history, the coffee bars and the women.  The history we know, the coffee bars too dear, the women ignored me.  I wondered how many knew that on that side of the road a Roman complex of some sort once existed.  Could they imagine the Saxon Roundhouses down near the traffic lights?  Did the realise that the High Street did not exist until probably the late 1200s when it was erected to ease the Bishop of London and his men on the way to their chapel along the road?   I suspect few contemplated such things.  

St Michaels has  stood here in one form or another for well over 800 years.  Possibly a Saxon church was built before that, certainly Roman graves have been discovered near the spot.  The Romans were dead by the way.  At the rear is an alcove, if that's the word, where pilgrims passing by on their way to Bury St Edmunds to visit the dead saint would stop to worship.  Quite what stood there I know not, possibly a priest would allow them to congregate at certain times.  This ended with the Reformation, it was in a all the papers, and the pilgrims ceased passing by.

A gargoyle to remove excess water?  I wonder if he was modelled on one of the main men of the time?

There are a few werewolves around here I can tell you.

Some towns do not appear to have much history in themselves but the people who have lived there often do.  Notley Road, which leads you may guess to Notley, saw many men go off into the Great War, not all returned.  Percy Lanham from No 29 died of wounds at St Omer, way behind the lines, and was buried there.  His service was with the Army Service Corps, the people taking horse and cart full to ammunition and other supplies to the front.  It is likely a shell brought him down, though in war anything can happen.

Just a wee but further down the road, passed what once was the 'Angel' Pub on the other side of the street once stood a house of a famous name.  A man named Martin Kellogg lived there on Godlings Farm until he took off for the USA in the 1600s.  Possibly they were non-conformists and thought New England would be a free place to live.  Among the descendants of the Kellogg's 8 or 9 generations down, we find John Wayne and Clint Eastwood have connections.  Whoever they are.  The one we all know however, is William Keith Kellogg, a Seventh Day Adventist, like his family at the time.  He joined his brother John at his sanitorium, run on healthy vegetarian lines, until, after some problems, beginning what we now know as 'Kellogg's Corn Flakes.'  

This cereal was supposed to trap the sun in the corn and pass on the health benefits to the people.  You may question this, I find the packet tastes better myself.  Still, William was born in 1860 and died in 1951, so his health was good for a long time.

All this beginning, amongst much else, in Braintree!

One item noticed most days and not completely taken in is the pillar box.  A system for collecting stamped mail designed by William Trollope the novelist.  He was in charge of the Post Office in Ireland.  He did not get on with Rowland Hill, the top man who had developed the 'Penny Post,' but top men do not get on with one another often, do they?  Trollope travelled constantly and wrote many of his books while on the train.  As even today writing is not always easy on a moving train I wonder how he managed so well?  His books are very thick, this is because the 'Lending Library' charged money on each lend, and two volumes were not advantages to the shop.  Books to be used by the library, the best Victorian way to be seen, had therefore to come in three volumes or were rejected.  Trollope was not the only writer to grumble at this.

The box bears the letter 'GR,' indicating the box was built in the reign of King George.  He reigned from 1910 - 1936, and is not to be confused with King George VI who reigned from 1936-1952.  His stylised GR includes a VI above the letters.   We await the introduction of  King Charlies Post boxes.  I wonder what they will do re the ones in Scotland?    

In Scotland boxes did not have 'EiiR' as Scotland did not have a 'Queen Elizabeth' before 1952.  The Crown was used instead.  This is because many complained, and Westminster ignored them, until a box in Craigmillar was removed by a wee stick of Gelignite.  The PM at the time, Churchill, decided 'something must be done.' 

The Park and Happy Dog

I took my cheery personality for a walk this afternoon.  The bread and milk had run out, and so I sauntered via Sainsburys across the park.  It was a cold but bright day, the lowering sun blinding as I moved across the car park, yet the chill was without wind and bearable.

Carrying my overpriced goodies in my 'Tesco' bag I limped my way towards the park, cheerfully avoiding the hundreds on parent escorted children heading home.  I note the kids have to walk to school, a good mile or more for many, and car use is discouraged here.  

The morning had been a slow one, tiredness from the walking yesterday hitting home so a wander across the green acre, blue sky, occasional aircraft passing by, was refreshing.

 

The best part of the day was the man walking his wee Bulldog. I have met him before with his previous Bulldog, and he clearly likes them.  As we passed close I mentioned that he could not be in a hurry, the dog searching through every second blade of grass.  The dog then chose to sniff me, quickly losing interest and returning to check the path nearby.  They say having a dog makes life better, cleary it makes this man's life better, and clearly the dog is well fed, out for a walk as soon as the man gets home from work, and happy as can be.

I suggest I will never be as happy as a dog taken for a walk across a park used by many other dogs.

Boring

 

On a somewhat boring Sunday nothing new or interesting occurred.

Politicians lying low, rather than just lying, except Cameron who was on tv lying.

Sunak hiding Boris like in Ukraine, or somewhere.

Football boring.

Everything boring.

At least I have kept my cheery disposition...

 

Railway Station

The picture posted the other day came from this short film taken in Victoria Station sometime during the 1930s.  They say it is Victoria Station however I am convinced this is Waterloo Station at the time.  I could be wrong, this has been known before... 

The historical aspect is interesting, the outfits, the uniforms, the sailors piling of the train obviously from Portsmouth (I say), and the porters rushing to, I assume, the 1st class coaches for the tips on offer. 

Otherwise has there been much change?  

Obviously electric trains abound today, only one is noted on this film, the platform area has been renovated, signalling and information boards modernised, but overall the people, the attitudes, the waiting to go or for someone to arrive remains the same.  Few men are without hats, most have waistcoats, jackets and ties, more ladies have chosen not to wear hats than the men.  Do most appear middle class?  Many rush to the 'Third Class coach,'  It is remarkable that so few are seen smoking, few are eating anything, is this because only seated cafes were available then?  It certainly appears to be holiday season, and if going on holiday the sun ought to be shining, and so it is!  

Lovely to see the engines that arrive, they are used to push the outgoing service on its way.  I was not aware of any steep gradient on those lines, but I suppose we wouldn't notice with the trains today. 

The impression is not of a dirty, grime covered station of our memories however.  Liverpool Street always looked as if it was recently covered in grime, now much improved, Victoria I only saw when renovated, as with Waterloo.  Others may have differing memories.  

 

The film has been 'colourised' by 'Upscaled History,' which boasts a number of ages films they have treated.  Well worth a look.

WikiMedia

Snow

A short blast of snow falling at a slant threatens to bring the nation to its knees again.  A short while ago large noticeable snowflakes fell slowly, then the wind heightened, hats blew off, coats were tightened, and misery shone on the faces.  

I watched from the window.

That picture was taken 10 minutes ago, and already all has cleared.  I suspect several accidents have occurred in the region, but so far no sirens have sounded.  Quite how this lot would cope with the A9 in January I know not.

I still remain indoors hugging the heater drying the washing.

I am very glad it was not similar to this yesterday when I hobbled down the highway.  Kirk was quiet, as it is at this time of year, he traffic today is back to normal and Kirk will be similar next week.  It was good to see the faces, be surrounded by all the women, one at a time again, and speak to those who mattered.

However, I left early as my mind was clogged up.   It has been this way for a while, a remnant from the Covid of a month or two ago.  In November I usually have Xmas sown up, but this year it was slow, thinking apathetic, and it was finished by desperation, not thought.  Apathy remains.  Reading is hard, concentration often lost, and I followed nothing during the service.  This was awkward as I was reading the OT passage!  Gen 1:1-5.  I noticed I was losing concentration as I read this short passage!  I am amazed I did not fall asleep!  I ran off home soon after closing and limped through the rest off the day.

Some things held an interest but concentration soon lapsed.  

Maybe I should hire a nurse...?

 

Much later, Tsk!  Forgot to finish this...

 

Drink and Babylon!

 

I spent an enjoyable hour listening to a podcast from the 'National Archives.' 

I knew about these but only recently began to listen to them.  Today I listened to one from 2006.

Phillipa Glanville, from the V&A museum, discussing 'The Dichotomies of Drink.'  Very interesting this was too.  A clever woman, well researched, and clearly spoken, discussing drink from the late 1600s up until recent times.  The development of whisky taught me much I did not know, the growth of beer in its many forms, wine, political intrusion and responses to European wars, and the public response during difficult times.

Water being rough if not impure led to much beer drinking, of a  weak kind.  War in Europe led to sales of whisky and rum growing.  Drunkenness also grew alongside the increase in alcohol sales.  Who would have thought...?

A good Podcast, and well worth a listen and I suspect many more also.

This is a good book!

Good that is if you like reading about ancient Mesopotamia!

I do.

Paul Kriwaczek, a Viennese, was head of Central Asian Affairs at the BBC World Service for 25 years.  His wide knowledge of many languages no doubt aided his studies.  This book was published in 2010, a year before he died.

Beginning by comparing Saddam Hussein with the great leaders who had gone before him millennia ago helps us understand, he says, how life in the region continues in similar fashion since settlement began.  Human nature after all, does not change.

From Eridu in the south, where incoming peoples gathered around 5000 BC, through until the fall of Babylon to the Persians and the end of what the author calls the 'first stage' in civilisation, we follow the development of the various societies and indeed Pauls interesting, but not always correct thoughts on the matter.  

Paul was an intelligent and thoughtful man, however, some of his opinions were lacking in my view, indeed, somewhat idiosyncratic I would say.  His view on what was the 'Flood,' is worth reading, but somehow lacks substance to me.  

We hear of the rise of the Sumer super states, Ur and Uruk, the opposition from Elam, and the constant flow of peoples throughout time who eventually take over and, according to the author, continue the culture that they find.  

We read of Gilgamesh, and the various people who brought the rise and fall, and rise again, of Babylon and then Assyria.  Famous names such as Hammurabi pass by, less famous names come and go, leaving a mark in their day and going the way of all flesh into obscurity.  

Of course the rise of both Babylon and Assyria, and her fall, takes up some room.  Both, thanks to scripture, are renown in the west, though not accurately I suggest.  Paul describes the situation at various times attempting to enliven the image, he makes a story of the situation, often I found quite well, and throughout the book he remains easily readable, even I could understand the big words.

The study of those clay tablets covered in 'cuneiform' have offered us much detail on the life of people in the area.  This includes letters from a wife to her far off husband complaining about what he has taken with him on business, or detailing her efforts to sell the goods he has sent back from far off.  

It amazes me how much detail can be found, and it is exciting to consider how many thousands of these tablets have still to be translated.

We see the rise and fall of Assyria, her determination never to be put down again, resulting in her harsh treatment of those who resist.  Our author details also Assyria's harsh treatment of women, so harsh that it is possible to see how Islam can regard their treatment of women as protective!   

States cannot exist for ever under violence, eventually people rebel.  Babylon took over for a period, then the Persians ended this period of life.  Things were never the same again.

Ancient Sumer, and those that came after, developed the sciences as far as possible in their day.  Much of the maths known to the Greeks was already found in Ur and Uruk.  Architecture and art developed quickly, agriculture, in spite of mistakes, fed the people well, and life developed from Temple led authority governing an organised society, to a more 'free enterprise' world under the Kings.  The rich got richer and the poor remained poor as in all societies, but differing times had different responses to human need.

I liked this book, I disagreed with much of Pauls understanding of the situation, but I would wouldn't I?

This book is an easy read, full of information, offers a large reading list at the end, and is well worth spending time on.  Such a shame the author has passed on.

Quiet Day

Another day of joy and laughter.

A trip for bread, and a day watching a video of a train from Kings Cross to Hull.  What more could you wish for?  

The sun shone, on the video also, I fell asleep, and ate.

A busy day for me.

A quick look around revealed no news. 

However, that nice Man Vargas did score again the other night, that's two goals in two games, as he begins to adapt to Scottish football.  I told you he would be popular.

New Year Dawns ....

The new year dawned with bright sunshine and an early opened 'Ladbrokes.'  'Iceland' and one or two lesser shops were about but most remained indoors, sensibly.  It remains quiet today, though storm force rain helps to keep people inside.  Dogwalkers apart, only the brave wander in this rain.

Nothing else happened, though the Tories keep lying, storing cash and inventing excuses.  Starmer keeps well away from Socialists, just in case they give him an idea.  The Lib-Dems have appeared on Twitter again, but few will notice.  An aircraft crash in Japan, Russia killing Ukrainians, troop movements elsewhere, trouble in the Red Sea, and most coverage is of celebs!    

Life has not improved in 2024, so far...

 

Happy New Year 2024

A Happy New Year to all my friends, readers and bots.

May it be a good one!

Hogmanay

Hobbling down to the Kirk this morning I was impressed by the bright sun dazzling me.  Had it not been for the cold air I would have thought it summer brightness, however, wrapped up in my big coat, flat cap on flat head, I knew it was December.  

No fox running across me this morning at this spot, one or two dogs grinning as they headed towards the parks, a few miserable faces passed by, almost forcing me to say 'Happy new Year,' just for spite.

However, I refrained.  We ought not to say this until the stroke of the midnight bells, though the English adoption of Hogmanay has brought changes here.

The Kirk was quiet today.  No kids at all, few adults, possibly they are all preparing for midnight, possibly they have indulged, possibly the last week has just worn them out.  My attention was poor, I forgot to eat before going out, and the man rambled a wee bit.  However, the talk is on video tonight, hopefully, and I will hear it again.  I may wait until tomorrow.  No lift home, a stroll through the sun, now hiding behind clouds, and noticed how quiet the streets still are.  Just wait until Tuesday when they all return.  

Bright news from the Netherlands where an enterprising young man obtained 75kg of fireworks.  Great fun for all!  Unfortunately he smokes.  On his way home he smoked a cigarette and at the end threw this out the window.  However, the wind brought it back into the car, started a fire, and within seconds fireworks were going off everywhere!  His Volvo is I suspect a right off.

The last sundown of the year, seen through my grubby window, was a good one.  2023 has not been the best year, but not the worst either.  Years come and years go but if we keep in with Jesus all will be well.  

Books!

 

The problem I have now, with the year ebbing away, is which book do I read first?  Considering there are several already open and at varying degrees of accomplishment it is trying attempting to work out how to read them all at once.

This however, is a common occurrence.   There does tend to be books lying around in all corners, on the couch, in the Loo, through in the bedroom, and all around the desk.  Some are short, one of  chapters such as books re travel reports, others feature a policeman's life tales, or history reports from various periods, not books that need to be finished, rather books to dive into when the desire rises.  Others are a bit more reference like and can be read regarding certain periods or events.  Some, like my favourite at the moment, must be read through because I am captured by it.  Next week something else will take its place, hopefully.

That means I must add these two the piles.  This is 'First World Problems,' and not something that will worry those seeking fresh water to drink, and end to the bombing, or shelter for the night will worry about.  Should I complain?  No., I have it so easy really.

Especially with the single malt around...