The Sunday Post...

Saturday Evening Post...

 

Misty Return

A bright and misty morning greeted us today.  The unsmiling gathered at the supermarket ready to grumble and complain.  None noticed the brightness high in the sky above the trees, none gave thanks that they could walk to the shop, at least walk from their car to the shop.  

While the sun began to lessen the mist it remained happy enough to allow the mist to envelope parts of the town in an acceptable fashion.  The Victorian heights of the old school with the old Town Hall behind reflected the one time generosity of the wealthy who lived and ruled here in past times.

This pigeons forefathers passed down the story of how these roosting places once gave of heat and smoke.  Today, they stand stark and cold yet decent places for a fellow to clean his feathers and stare at the world going past beneath.

 

Jane Barlow/PA Wire

Alec Salmond returned home today from North Macedonia.  he was seen off by a military escort, provided by the government, and proper diplomatic respect was paid to the man.  On his arrival at Aberdeen no government official was on hand to welcome the one time First Minister, nor was a representative of the SNP available to attend.  

His wife ad family, his piper playing a lament, and I believe Tom Hunter, the man who provided the aircraft to return his body as the SNP government refused to do this, was in attendance.

The media spent much time reminding the world of Alec's faults, in an effort, guided by the British State, to erase his memory, his ability, and his worth to Scotland.  The English Prime Minister will continue to attempt to make Scotland once again, 'North Britain.'

This will not succeed.

The Coup Has Taken Place

It was clear, as if we did not know, that our Labour Prime Minister has been bought by big business. The recent conference of money men in London gave stark evidence of his selling out to corporates and equity, for the sake of national growth!  

This has been followed up by more demands in the media for cutting 'welfare' and implementing the cut of the Winter Heating Allowance ('WFA') from 'rich pensioners.'  Tat is those bringing in more than £13,000 a year!  The Tory Woman Chancellor claimed £5000 to heat her own large mansion recently.  Maybe she does not understand how other people live?  

Press outrage at the young not being able to buy a house while the aged live happily in a large one continues.  No mention of these young earning more in a year than the aged ever earned.  No mention of the aged taxes paying for those young 'uns education or the roads they drive their cars upon, the aged did not have cars back then, they did not earn enough!  The right wing press, owned by billionaires living abroad to avoid taxes, attacks the benefit scrounger while keeping the dim witted eyes from noticing their tax dodging.

As yet, nobody mentions those FreePorts, the ones the corporates and big business will own, avoid tax on for 10 years, and keep all profits to themselves.  No mention either of their new lawgiving status where they control that area, not the government close by.  Unions beware! 

The BBC have announced the end of another programme, 'Hardtalk,' on the BBC World Service.  This was a programme that asked deep and honest questions of many politicians and others.  Now it has been ended.  The entire BBC new output has been silenced now.  No interviewer who asks a question that does not fit with Tory and Labour policy is allowed.  Joseph Goebbels would be pleased.

Those rich people behind the scenes who now run the country have control over the government, the press, and now the BBC.  They already have ITV and SKY under control.  However, most people still trust the BBC in spite of this damage in the newsroom.  

Here we are, a coup has taken place, one that gave us Brexit, which killed the nation economically and lost all sovereignty, gave control to the wealthy, blinded the stupid by offering them 'boats,' while taking all their 'rights.'  The noose is tightening, most still do not perceive this.  

Our Kenny Vargas, he who cannot score against a goalkeeper in a 'one to one' situation, scored against a goalkeeper in a 'one to one' situation for Costa Rica last night.  The team beat Guatemala by 3 goals to 0 and our Kenneth did his job.  Now he had better remember how he did that for the next time while at Tynecastle!

Exercise...

 

This morning I drew back the curtains to let in the morning light and the room got darker.  Someone had left the clouds out over night and they were refusing to move.  It was a dismal beginning to a day.  Scrambling through Twitter, emails, and the English media I decided to scribble words onto a screen.  By that time light was offering mere grey clouds instead of glowering black ones and as a result I decided to exercise.

Yes, exercise, something my heart is keen on but does not meet often.  Five minutes here, a bit of stretching there, a wee walk down to the basement to read the meter, stretch again, lift a weight, ooyah, put it down again, and return happily to the chair.

That slim exercise does indeed make me feel better.  Breathing improves, the body benefits, and I even smile at the mirror, this does not smile back.  Having done myself no geed a few weeks ago I am able now to exercise a bit and hopefully benefit more often from this.  Usually however, exercise brings out the bugs that follow me, and as I am supposed to go for a 'flu' jab I am now in two minds.  I could have a jab but fear this may stimulate a cold type situation.  I have to seek a Covid jab, but that also might have a reaction.  Now I am nonplussed as to what to do.  However, I missed both last year, I had Covid at the time, so may not bother again this year.  As per usual, whatever I do will be wrong.

A squabble has arisen over the return of Alec Salmond's body.  A request for the RAF to collect the body has been rejected as this, 'Is only for Royalty.'  £600,000 is supposedly the cost of returning the body but England do not appear to be in a hurry about it.  The government claim talks are under way, but that means little, I can see a 'Crowd funder' required to pay for this soon.

A Great Loss

It was as we watched Scotland playing the Croatian side last night that most of us heard the news of the sudden death of Alex Salmond.  This was indeed a shock to me, as it must have been for Alex.  Here was the remaining towering figure in Scottish politics, now we are left with the SNPs devolution loving weasels.  

Having removed Alex from power, smeared him and attempted to jail him, an attempt that failed badly,  the British State can now relax regarding Scottish Independence.  None of the money loving wimps left in the SNP wish independence, they are content with being 'Mayors' of the Scotland region.

Alex Salmond was a great speaker, a diligent MP & MSP, he was excellent with PR, and he knew how to deal with Westminster controlled journalists, the ones who fill BBC Scotland today.  Alex had friends and contacts at the highest level, he remained the only powerful individual capable of leading the country to independence, yet the 'ALBA' party that he created has so far failed to produce any success at the polls.  

Side-lined though he was Alex Salmond remained the only individual powerful enough to lead Scotland to freedom from the English yoke. He had many faults, inevitable in a politician, yet his influence was enough to frighten Sturgeon and her Special Branch owned cronies.  His influence will remain, however, his passing leaves Scotland barren of real politicians for now.

Alex Salmond's last post on Twitter finished with the words, "Scotland is a Country, not a County!" 

My phone just rang, not that I was looking.  

By the time I realised it was ringing and answered it the caller had gone.  I pressed the wee button for calls and discovered this caller, with a strange long number, was based in Armenia.  Now, as you know, I have many friends in Armenia!  A nation with a long history, going back well before Roman times, and one who supply a football team that plays in European tournaments.  But calling me? 

Could it be they wish me to manage their football team?

Possibly their politicians require my leading?

Possibly it is a wrong number?

Most likely some chancer chancing.

Anyway, he is blocked now.

I also noted a London 020 number had called yesterday, again I missed it.  Now I know people therein but they do not know my phone number!  A local caller, possibly from Armenia, making a similar chancer call.

Nobody I know calls me...

  

Tech Pain

And another thing about tech merchandise, they are constantly telling you what to do, asking if you need help  when you don't, and just getting in the way!

I pick up the mobile and at the bottom of the screen it jumps up and says 'Try saying 'Cleopatra in Egypt.''

Why?

What do I want to day anything for to a machine?

Or it jumps up offering help.  

Why?

What help on here do I require?

On emails I receive a long list of answers is given for me to select.

Can I not think of an answer by myself?

Are the geeks who come up with this stuff so inept they cannot think of answers so need prepared ones?

These things are on the laptop also.

They are everywhere 'helping' by doing your thinking incorrectly for you.

As if I need help making mistakes?

On the trip on Sunday the driver commentated on how his car tells him his door is open, his seat belt not pushed in, or how close he is to the car behind.  

Can he not see these things for himself?

People have been driving for over a hundred years yet require a computer to tell them the obvious!

Granted some things can have their uses, no, I cannot think of any either.

I've taken to coffee in the mornings, sometimes this works and I wake up.  Sainsburys have taken to offering a variety of coffees at ludicrous high prices, even this type, their own brand stuff is overpriced, but I prefer the others on sale.  Last time I tried own brand coffee, Tesco I think, it was so strong it kept my eyes open for days.  Maybe I am getting used to this stuff but the result is very mild here? 

Ethiopian Coffee, Ethiopia being where coffee first arose, Columbian , and elsewhere can be bought.  However, the Costa Rica version has been removed and shows no sign of returning.  This is a shame as I think that was one of the best.  If I remember right the other bag in the cupboard is some form of Kenyan coffee, and I am not sure if I tried this before.     

I think I may require some of that Tesco coffee again if I fail to wake properly in the mornings.

Idiot!

Technical brilliance just cost me £20.

This wireless mouse, no it does not act like a wireless, this mouse ceased working.  It had fallen upon the floor for no good reason a day or so before and I worried it may be wonky.  However, I changed the battery, I had three lying on the mantlepiece doing nothing, put one in to discover this did not work.

The brute lit up and went off again.  Most annoying.  So I tried the other batteries, same result.  It is either broke or the battery is dead.  I had no more batteries, bar one.  This I took from elsewhere and inserted it into the mouse.  Same result.  Nothing for it but to obtain new batteries anyway and order a working mouse.

Several long days later it arrived, at 7 pm in the evening!  Royal Mail parcels are being delivered at all times, and on a 7 day rota at that.  No wonder smiling posties are hard to find these days.  Long hours, no extra pay, bad management, increased prices and appalling delivery ideas, all this to line the pockets of the few while the service deteriorates.  I support the postmen, not the owners.

Anyway, I got the new mouse, fixed it up with a new battery and put it to work, success! 

I had faith this would work!

However, I then tried one of my new, new batteries straight from the shop in the old, broken mouse.  This is an attempt that must be tried, and of course it worked first time!

So, tech marvel me spent £20 on a new mouse when all I required was a new working battery.  

I do not come from a family of engineers...

The Promised Land

There is much understandable fuss today concerning the anniversary of the Hamas attack on Israel last year.  Most of what we read and hear is of course nonsense.   Ignorant and deliberate propaganda from both sides, and a great many other sides with something to say or a benefit to gain from this conflict, shout loudly to all around.  Israel has many backers, the US and UK amongst many others, supplying weapons and diplomatic and other support.  The Palestinians have support, much from Arabs all around them but also these same Palestinians have grieved neighbouring states with their war.  Not all Arabs supported Palestinians in the past, most just wish to get on with their lives and end their own wars.  

For as long as man has trod these lands war has been the main employment during the Spring and summer.  Raiding and warring has enlarged and destroyed the states all around.  The Egyptians, Assyrians, Babylonians then the Persians alone conquered and lost this land.  Since then Greece and Rome and Ottoman Turks have ruled and passed on.  War is a constant, therefore war is to be expected when the Hebrews return to a land they believe was given to them by the only God way back in Abraham's day.  

Either this was true, or this was a lie.

If it was a lie and the Jews deceived we can forget about this and move on.  

If it was true, and the only God Yahweh, gave this land to the Hebrews while working out his plan for eternity in this world, then we must look again and choose carefully what we say and do.

Either way, it would be fair to say that politicians on all sides have little understanding of how the Living God works out his purposes, and Bibi Netanyahu is probably not one to acknowledge Yeshua Messiah as Lord.

Thousands have died in this last 12 months, some cruelly, some from bomb or bullet, some from hunger, others from lack of medicine and care.  Some soldiers have enjoyed killing, many have grown up with hate filling their hearts on both sides.  Few have been raised with peace in mind.

I have no answer to the present Israel/Gaza war.  The human cause is possibly Netanyahu attempting to avoid coming before the courts for charges of corruption.  Israel have jailed similar men for corruption before now.  His desire to kill those in Gaza being an excellent excuse to avoid the courts.  As I understand it, he cannot be tried while Premier.  Years of conflict, thousands untold dying along the way, have prepared Israel for this outbreak.  It may last a  while longer.  Many more will die.  

Politicians will talk of peace while providing arms and support all the while.  Israel must be supported, even though few of these men understand what the Lord God is doing here, and that one day they will stand before him in judgement!

I do not understand the workings here, but I know God is working his purposes out.  He is shaping the middle east for Jesus return.  Can we understand this clearly from scripture?  You may be able to, I struggle with the clarity bit.  

Is the Israel in Israel the nation to be surrounded by enemies?  Or does this mean the church of God, the people following Jesus until he returns is surrounded and opposed?  I know not.  

Does Yahweh rejoice in the death of the wicked?  

Certainly not, that is why judgement on us all has not fallen yet.  

He cries out as always that he gave his Son so that you could live with him for ever!  

Our corrupt nature cannot be saved, yet Jesus died for us so a way is open to meet and live with God.

He suffered for us.  

He took our sin.

Turning to Jesus, accepting his death on our behalf, and living for him brings life.

No riches or wealth in human terms, but life everlasting and worth having.

Somehow all this is involved in Gaza today.  

Many there have already met Jesus, they are not all Muslim.  

Many continue to suffer for their belief in Jesus, and not just in the Middle East.  

Let us learn from the conflict there that Jesus is till in control, he remains Lord of all, in spite of our own troubles and what we see in our biased media.  

Let us put our trust in him.

Saturday: A Wasted Life

I've just been watching Burnley v Preston, it was the best sleep I have had for some time!  What a waste of grass this was.   Preston falling down to waste time from the start, Burnley too keen to help them fall down.  A stramash here, a stramash there, little football.  Only one goal I noticed and that was declared wrongly as 'offside.'  You tend not to expect the linesman to know the offside law.

Now I am watching the results appear on the screen, every so often they change, 1-0becomes 2-0 or 1-1, and what we see on the screen does not match the emotions being expressed in countless football grounds around the world today.  Especially those grounds where wind and rain may be 'aiding' the flow of the game.  

Kicks and bumps abound, men rolling around on the ground holding their bits, some frantically running, other swaggering about, an occasional goalkeeper looking to the skies wondering how that happened, and the fans, how the fans enjoy the game!  Several thousand wondering why that dumb Hibernian player dived in the box when he was already on a yellow?  Off he goes as the ref waves a red card at him, swiftly followed by their opponents scoring a second goal!  The crowd roar, some in anguish.  Fingers are pointed at one end while arms are raised high at the other.  It was ever thus.

Soon there will be handshakes and a degree of professional forgiveness.  Players will warm down, fans will warm up in the local pubs, others head for home whether near or far.  

Others sit at home watching on the screen, like me.

I began the day slowly, not wishing to visit Tesco again I wandered through the not very busy marketplace.  Nothing much to report and then I accidentally fell into Tesco itself.  Thus I obtained the things I forgot or could not carry yesterday, and hobbled home for lunch.   

The sun shone, the air remained chilled, I was glad to be indoors until this afternoon when I realised it was warmer outside than in!  I opened the windows to warm up and found that chilly air waiting for me.  How come?  

Nothing for it but football and early bed, to watch more football or fall asleep again.  

My taxi is booked for tomorrow, this lift is becoming a habit and making me feel guilty.  Soon, but not yet, I will have to stop this, or pay the fares!

Blackfriars Bridge by Henry Cundell 1844

  

Nothing to Say

 Very tired today, bad food, poor sleep, usual yuckiness.

Goodbye Mr Tupper

The sad news for many is the end of 'Tupperware.'  The firm, began by a Mr Tupper,' in 1946 has reached an end.  The desire to use less plastic, especially among the young who will not remove the plastic from their mobile phones or flash TVs, has seen a desire for alternative products.  

As always, rising costs in material, wages and transport, has had an effect alongside falling sales.  The cheaper, and not as good, versions from elsewhere, I probably mean China, has led the decline in sales.  

Sold cleverly by the use of women holding 'Tupperware Parties,' and gathering all around for a natter and sales, the company blossomed during the 50s and 60s when income increased and those without fridges found the tightly closed boxes useful for storing foodstuffs. 

The party however, is now over.  

Plastic remains elsewhere however...

Country Living...

 

Jam Shed

Some time ago, I saw this wine, then £5 in Tesco, and obtained a bottle even though I thought the name childish I viewed the label in similar fashion.  Then I opened it!   A marvellous sweet red wine which almost made me attempt the entire bottle in one go.  That was not the idea, the wine was meant to be something different at night or with food.  However, it was good, and as the price jumped, £7 usually now, occasionally £6 with a store card in one of the fake bargains, it actually cannot, even with Brexit, have increased by £2 in such a short time.  

I passed a bottle one Christmas to the neighbours downstairs; the next thing I knew he was entranced by 'The Jam Shed,' and I knew this by the empty bottles lying by the bins!  They were not mine, and they never take them to the recycling bin at Sainsburys either.  

It is known that when people stopped the nomadic life wine of a sort was developed.  Less chance of this while on the move, however, people often stopped in regular places and no reason for them at the right time of year to attempt some form of wine making.  Fossilised substances going back millions of years suggest this happened.  Wine possibly developed in Persia about 6000 BC, the town of Shiraz might give a clue.  What it tasted like may be harder to describe.

The Egyptians like lots of wine, often made from Figs, grapes, dates and pomegranates, and the flavours may vary from what arrives today.  They also drank a lot of Beer, most men received beer as wages, in some places the water not being too good.  

As far back as 3000 BC the people of Crete had wine presses, the Greeks of course loved wine.  This helped concentration at symposiums, for men at least, and Dionysus was a god of wine, and an excuse for a booze up.  Some claim the Greeks frowned upon drunkenness, but imbibing the stuff would surely lead to this anyhow, however, in daily life much wine would be watered down as it was in much of the Middle East.

The Romans took to wine, though at first they preferred Beer and Mead though they did invent a way of using beer barrels for wine, instead of amphora.  They sent wine to the Gaul's who happily imbibed.

A glass Roman bottle was found dating from 325 AD, not many before that I suspect.  The Romans did take to wine in the end and happily misused it on many occasions, unlike us...

Monks produced wine and beer in many places.  Again, the water was often not very good so wine and beer helped.  The French did take to winemaking of course, though they needed American help when disease killed their crops. The US versions being immune saved France.  Tsk, maybe they would have turned to beer like the Germans?  

Wine is of course made almost everywhere these days, even in England, though I have not lowered myself to try it.  Wherever it comes from tax and profiteering will abound, and drunkenness also if care is not taken.  At £7 a bottle I take a lot of care with my wine...

Gove Spectates...

 

Michael Gove has been announced as the next editor of the 'Spectator.'  This is no surprise.  The only surprise is that the new owner, one Sir Paul Marshall, has not yet taken over the 'Daily Telegraph' and made Gove editor of that.  Marshall paid, so they say, £100 million for this magazine, that runs at a loss of £2.5 million!  This does not appear as a sensible buy.  Marshall is however, a man of the far right.  He already owns a magazine, 'Unheard,' and has substantial contribution to the TV company 'GBNews.'  All take a far-right approach, and 'GBNews' is often not far from lunacy.  Marshall is supposed to have around £650 million to spare, he made his money as a Hedge Fund manager,' and has given away to various charities some £145 million at least.  He also has a strong hand in 'Ark Schools,' a leading provider of academies.  He has a strong belief in education.

Many find his extreme right-wing views contrary to the Christianity he preaches.  A Christianity he really does believe in, unlike many who use the term in politics or media.  This causes him many enemies within the media who are always waiting to pounce.  Marshall 'liked' some tweets on Twitter which supported removing migrants forcibly, and claiming that when Islam reaches 15/20% of the population trouble will erupt.  He denied these represented hi views. 

His Christian faith is real, he belongs to Holy Trinity Brompton, a well known right wing church from which many well to do people have become followers.  I had a run in some years ago with the curate at the church opposite me regarding his enthusiastic bell-ringing on Sundays.  We did not get on well.  The church has a reputation for arrogance.  They were also slow to condemn the LLF gay lobby pushed by the Bishops recently.  Evangelical they may be, however, I would keep my distance as they and Marshall do not operate they way I consider correct.  Christians ought to be centre left, not right wing, to easily money become more important than people.

So, how will Gove, who has known Marshall for many years, run the magazine?  It will certainly not become socialist, it will cover many usual aspects, and Mr Gove will himself bring his own personality and opinions into play.  We will soon understand what they are.

Space Filling...

Last week I took this picture round the back of what once was a restaurant.  The building has been abandoned it appears for some time.  In actual fact the owner has another building somewhere in town, I know not where, and has just let this one fade away.  A while back the council stepped in and forced remedial work upon it, secure safely at the front on the busy road, but only the other day did I notice just how bad the rear end happens to be.  

Clearly a great deal of work must be done, and this will cost a bit, added to that the council would charge if they have secured the place.  Knocking it down and rebuilding in the original form is the only option, it has been there probably since Victorian times, and whatever work is required will be expensive.  No doubt no-one wishes to buy.  

The building to the right of it, just out of the picture is quite new.  This was destroyed by a bomb in 1941 and eventually the area cleared and rebuilt in, almost, original form.  A Gant, an alleyway, runs to the side so no problem there, unless bits fall off.  However, time must be close for something to be done.

Maggie spoke at the conference today.  At least that is what it looked like.  Waffle, lies and pass the buck.  Feed the rich and make the poor suffer.  By removing WFA we have saved the pound from collapsing like it did under Truss.  What bull.  More Tory than the Tories, and no-one able to stop this slide into Victorian values...

Sleep

Sleep used to be fun.

I would lay my weary head on the aged pillow and soon drift off into slumber.  Between 6 or 7 I would begin to rise and greet the day with a smile.  Well, I would greet the day.  This does not happen much just now.  I drift off listening to something interesting, well usually, on the 'BBC iPlayer' which we must call 'Sounds' these days, and sleep.  The thing is I am awake by 12:10 am.  I struggle back to sleep and it is now 01:37, then it is 02:45, then again 03:16.  This continues until 06:15 am when I awake, decide to give it one more go and next thing it is 07:50 and I am now running late!

Now before cynics start claiming the half pint of brandy I swallowed while watching that football which required it, I can tell you that cannot be the reason.  Sometimes that puts me to sleep when watching! 

It is rare to sleep for 5 hours at a stretch.  It does happen, but rare these days.  I went to sleep content and relaxed last night yet the hourly waking continued.  This results in being half asleep all morning.  I may try eating something late on to see if that helps.  

The conference is on, no-one is allowed to mention the Winter fuel debacle, or indeed those backhanders, however, that is all the Tory press are asking, and any objectors are flung out.  

Expect more meaningless Tory lies this week.

And is it not time these conferences were held over a weekend?

Living Death at St Ps

Living Death at St Paul's

Sunday 10:30 am

Grateful for the lift given to me this morning, a mile is a long way to walk these days, I gladly entered the building. As we arrived a large white car proceeded before us, we waited patiently while the driver parked in the next space.  From the car a young blonde decanted and headed towards the church.  We men looked, muttered 'Hmmm...' quietly so his wife could not hear, and thought, this looks good.  I decided to make it my place to greet her.

However, Inside, while I obtained a glass of water to avoid drying up during the service, the young lady, and they are all young to me now, was greeted by Graham and Jenny on the doors in their friendly and efficient manner, and so was I when I walked through the door.  Having been greeted I turned to take my seat in the usual place.

Then it happened!

The blonde was sitting in my seat!

I gasped at Graham, ‘She’s in my seat!’

‘I said sit wherever you like, so she did,’ he replied grinning too happily for my liking.

'But that's MY seat!' I gasped quietly while a cold bead of sweat ran down my neck.  'I've sat there for nearly 10 years,' I muttered.  Graham sniggered somewhat too keenly for my liking, especially as his permanent seat at the back had been claimed already by Jenny.  He was not going to be homeless this morning.  'And you are not allowed to chuck her out either,' he ordered like the sergeant major he wished he was.  He wandered off to greet others while I stood staring into space.  I came ready for anything this morning, but not something as shocking as this!  She was in my seat!  Not only was she happily ensconced there, but all around people were greeting her while aiming more smirks in my direction.  Wars have been begun for less than this!  

Looking around the hall I noticed all the seats at the end of a row were taken. A very Anglican approach. The only empty seats were at the front. 

At the front! No-one sits at the front of an Anglican church, no-one! I began to gasp again.

Gordon however, stood alongside me offering condolences. ‘You could sit on one of the empty seats in the middle of the row,’ he offered somewhat fatuously. No-one chooses to sit in the middle, that is just not done, unless you are accompanying someone. I noticed his sneaky leer as he spoke, he too has his seat booked, though he sits in the middle because she has told him to, and that's that. 'Five empty seats at the front on the left,’ he said, his finger pointing in that direction.  The front!  I began to shake.  'Sit ant the front, and be near all the action,' he said slowly and with cruel intent.  Cold sweat was beginning to run down my neck by this time. My shaky knees were shaking, my trembling hands trembled, and Gordon asked if he should hold my glass before I washed the carpet. This I declined, mostly because my hand was gripping the tumbler hard and I feared I might break it in letting go. I also needed a wet blanket to hold onto at that moment.

I kept glaring at my seat, it had my name on it too! In fact, all the seats have my name on them, I scrawled it upon them one day while no-one was around, just in case.

The blonde did not move, it was not the done thing to throw her out, and people were beginning to gather. The shaking continued, cold beads continued to run down my neck, I stared hard at each seat, including my own now in colonial possession, and prayed, almost out loud.

Glory be!  Just then I saw an empty end seat, though it was on the second row from the front to the right.  This would have to do, Hallelujah! Sweating, I barged past the crowd being greeted by smirk and his wife, forced my way to the free seat, triumphantly grasped the chair, spread myself across the next one also, just in case someone joined me, a trick I learned while travelling on the London Underground all those years ago, and rested while the steam rose from my now, relaxed body.

How close was that? 

Excitement

As I woke excitement filled my heart.  

Now, in days past excitement often filled my heart, gripping me to the exclusion of all but the day ahead.  As a 6 year old the thought of travelling by steam train across the Forth Bridge to Fife was exciting.  A few days with my favourite aunt was always exciting.

When I was 14 the idea of leaving school and entering the adult world excited me greatly.  This I did not realise then comprised spending much time seeking what to eat later in the day! 

The excitement at standing in Tynecastle Park as the football was about to begin was always great.  Across the ground I watched puffs of smoke from lone smokers rise into the air, the sunshine on wet grass provided an aroma never forgotten, as indeed was the fragrance of the embrocation cream rubbed on footballers legs before a game to prepare them for combat.  Standing by the tunnel this was never missed.

Moving to London was exciting, living in my own wee slum excited me.  And slum it was, and probably still is, but it was my home.

Going abroad was excitement indeed, foreign parts, foreign foods, and not being shot by a trigger happy Israeli is always good.

Moving into this luxury home in the sticks was excitement indeed, self contained and never mind the faults.  

So many events brightening my life with excitement!

The arrival just before 2pm of a delivery of slippers from M&S was another thing that excited me.

Today however, I woke excited because I was going to visit 'Iceland' and buy frozen veg.

I think I may be in need of care...

Several things strike you as you look at this book.  The first is how the name 'Max Hastings' is larger than the title 'Operation Pedestal.'  I canny work out whether this is because his name sells more books or because he wants his name to be clear at the top.  Who knows.  I do know however, that like all Max's books it runs to 428 pages, which makes me glad it is paperback and not a hardback like others of his in my possession.  

The war had reached 1942, and as yet the allies were still on the defensive.  Malta was near starvation rations and Winston Churchill, still fully in control, understood that morale required to be lifted by great adventures.  The year previously a convoy headed towards Russia was attacked deep in Arctic territory.  The commander of that convoy made the disastrous decision to command remove the Royal Navy support and command the fleet to make full steam for the Soviet Union.  Almost all ships were lost!  

Our friend Comrade Stalin was not pleased.

Churchill realised morale must be lifted, the UK must succeed with a Malta convoy, whatever the Admiralty thought, and was determined to convince Uncle Joe that the UK was not finished.

The convoy therefore set out from various parts of the UK, combined at Gibraltar, and headed east into territory controlled by the German and Italian fleet and air forces.  In short, into an impossible situation.  

Off Algiers the attacks began, continuing, and increasing, by air and submarine as they headed towards Cape Bon o Tunisia.  Here the attacks were constant and severe.  From the 11th until the 13th the fleet was attacked by air and sea, not helped by the Admiralty turning back the largest of their escort ships, in case these were lost!  Opinions varied regarding this decision.  The mainly destroyer, escorts did their best in the best tradition of the Royal Navy but were outgunned and outnumbered.  Only on the last days could the RAF help from Malta itself, and courageous they were, but finding the by now dispersed fleet in an ocean is not easy.

In the end 5 Merchantmen arrived in Malta, bruised and crippled, including the oil tanker 'Ohio.'  However, 9 merchant ships were lost.  The Royal Navy suffered the loss of one aircraft carrier, HMS 'Eagle,' 2 cruisers and one destroyer, plus several more being seriously damaged.  Many men on both sides, on ships or in the air, were lost.  The convoy however, provided sufficient supplies for a rationed Malta to endure until November when Montgomery's 8th Army won at El Alemain and turned the course of the war.  The morale boost to the UK with the success of the convoy, while ignoring the mistakes, the faults and anything that might hinder good propaganda, was immense.  The UK showed that it could win, on land and sea, and in February 1943 the Soviet forces ended the siege of Stalingrad and began the long trek towards Berlin.  

The book is slow at the beginning as Max works through masses of information regarding the men the ships, the arguments regarding the convoy.  He then gives details of the ships themselves, the men aboard and much of his info comes from the records of those who participated.  Letters, diaries, official logbooks, are quoted in a manner that brings us close to the action.  And there is action aplenty.  I think as many attacks as possible have been recorded, the men involved, their individual response, their terror, their ship sinking, the salvation attempts, some of which are fantastic, the firing at aircraft and seeking submarines, and the effects of constant stress over several days with little food and less sleep.  You are made to feel you are part of the operation while reading the book.  

Some details are given regarding the part played by men after the convoy arrived.  Not all were rewarded, some court martialled, others faults 'forgotten.'  Like so many other men, they fought a war, took part in exciting action, and after 1945 those who survived and had no great promotions had no choice but to 'just get on with it' like thousands of others. 

I recommend this book.

Moonshine...

Last night, they said, we would see that full moon again, the bright, yellow Harvest Moon.   All we saw was cloud!  I had noticed the moon the night previously, it is often seen hanging around in the eastern sky here, and I got a shot or two of him then.  He did not appear to be any brighter or happier than when he last appeared, and |I doubt he cared about the Harvest, he does not have one himself these days.  It is however, good to have a clear sky in which to see the moon, unlike last night, even though the temperature drops accordingly.  Much cooler this year than last year, Global Warming I expect?    

There were those who used to say 'Lloyd George was on the take.'  But I suspect they could never prove this.  He certainly found the women when required but did he find the money?  I know not, but I read that Keir Starmer has indeed found the money.  Indeed, he has found over £100,000 worth of cash, all  in the form of things given to him by 'friends who wish him well.'  Tickets for major football matches, well Arsenal, Taylor Swift, clothes for him to look like a PM and for his wife to get her hands on the best available stuff, donations of items outnumbering that which no other PM has ever received, and not one iota of shame while allowing the old to freeze to death!  

Some question these gifts.  Some think PMs ought to refuse such things, but in fact the law of the day states they must pay for things received, however, it appears these 'gifts' arrived before Keir became PM, so he can keep them!  The question most ask is 'What's in it for the donor?'  Donors do not donate for love of the individual in politics, they are offering bribes, not gifts.  Quite why a Labour (and I use that word loosely) PM would not comprehend this confuses me.  Lord Ali, his donor for clothes and other things, was given a key to Parliament.  An outcry got this withdrawn.  He however, is still around Downing Street, possibly by the back door?  

We are owned by Corporate figures, the man in the street does not count.  The only woman who counts is Sue Gray, she counts £170,000 as a salary, which she asked for.  When it was suggested she had less than the PM she declined!  Hmmm...