I am enjoying our latest attempt at being snowed in. This however is fine by me after the trip into the Midlands I am happy to watch small, slushy flakes of snow littering the world. Yet another brief interlude of snow for a day or two, not unusual for March.
So I sit here writing emails regarding the events in the Midlands. Funerals are strange events, this one involved a burial, quite why my brother wished this I am not sure, maybe he just wishes us to take long trips out of our way to stand in the rain and wind remembering him, it would be his type of humour! As it was the day was bright, the sun shone and took the edge of the chill wind arriving from the east.
The travel included passing through St Pancras station. The last time I was there was about 30 years ago and how it has changed. Having struggled through the underground I now walked about a mile or more past these grossly overpriced shops in this brightly lit tourist filled mall. Not only was this not here 30 years ago I did not realise where the platforms were! "Upstairs!" he said knowing I didn't believe him. However after walking back the way I came clutching my ticket I found an escalator going upwards. The nearest one much to my by now tired bodies dismay came downwards. Only upstairs did I understand the layout of the station here under the huge cavernous space I realised the platforms had moved bar the ones on the far side now used by the Eurostar trains, the reuse of the undercroft, once used to hold major beer haulage as it was transported around the country, for the mall is a sensible way to gather money.
St Pancras apparently was a 14 year old Christian who Diocletian had executed for his faith. No, I had not heard of him either. Pancras means 'The one that holds everything' whatever that means.
During 1868 the first train, the overnight mail from Leeds, arrived at St Pancras Station stopping under the vast metal and glass roof designed by Barlow & Ordish that has the largest span in the world.
The 'Midland Railway' built the line and in 1923 joined with the 'London and North Western Railway' plus the 'Lancashire & Yorkshire Railway' to form the famous 'London, Midland & Scottish' Railway Company (LMS). These maroon coloured engines hauled their fare through the middle of the country. This came to an end with welcome nationalisation in 1948 when 'British Railways' came into being. Only nationalised railways can serve the nation as privatised ones merely take the money out of the governments generous purse and keep it to the few at the top.
To hide the train shed the Midland railway opened the fabulous station hotel built across the from of the entrance. This is a tourist site in itself! It has been said that Sir George Gilbert Scott originally had this design for the Foreign Office but the then Prime Minister Lord Palmerston would not accept any 'Gothic' design. In stead he insisted on a 'Greek' model and this indeed is what Scott built for him. However when asked to create a hotel for the Midland Railway he merely took his design, moved the centre tower to a position to the end of the building and created this masterpiece. Today just walking through the station now it has been renovated takes the breathe away. I have been inside the building many years ago when it was being used by BT among others. Even among the accumulated crud of years it was possible to see the fantastic quality of this building. The hotel failed in 1935 and became LMS railway offices remaining in lean condition until reopened recently as the St Pancras Renaissance Hotel. Of course I cannot afford to stay there!
The Hind Hotel in Wellingborough has recently been given a new owner, this is good as it is in much need of refurbishment. Meeting the rest of the family who managed to make it we found the staff very friendly, helpful and capable on the late shift. This was the hotels strongest point in my view. As a three star hotel it was acceptable, everything worked, effort had been made to keep it clean and usable and my knees were delighted to climb the ancient wooden stairs to the second floor. The lassie on the desk helpfully offered to carry my bag 'if I needed help!' Grump!
The 'Hind Hotel' was built by Lord Hatton a courtier of Queen Elizabeth who had a hind on his coat of arms. He became a loyal courtier of Elizabeth and was granted much by her and in time reached as high a position as Lord Chancellor. It did not stop him dying with great debts, these folks knew how to lose money. The Hind was built in 'Jacobean style' at a time when Lizzie was trying to ensure Catholics did not return to power yet Hatton remained one of her favourites. Originally the building offered hospitality possibly to those visiting the nearby abbey and they claim evidence Cromwell slept here before the Battle of Naseby. Cromwell, like Elizabeth, slept in many more places than he actually visited of course.
The wooden doors, stairs, bannisters alongside the remains of the coloured glass in the windows indicates something of the quality of the original building. Once the refurbishment is complete this will be an outstanding building.
This was one of the fireplaces this time referencing Victoria though it is not possible to say when it was installed. Now used as a breakfast room and as you can see polished often!
I thought the rooms decent enough though in one or two places the paper was beginning to come away. This made the place feel just like home! TV at the far end where my eyes could not reach was irrelevant as I never watch it anyway however I did consider installing a radio by the bed would have been a good idea as I listen to that.
The weather remained fine for the funeral, the wind eased by the sunshine and the short service led by a man who was not a 'Humanist' as one thought but a 'Spiritual Atheist.' A what? Yes I wondered also however he was raised in a proper evangelical background and now (I think having retired) he had begun to doubt his faith and the biblical view. Listening to him as we talked at the buffet (wake to you) in the 'Stags Head,' a lovely pub, I got the impression it was not a lack of belief but the fact he may have been gay and was attempting to fit that with reality, it will however not work. I could not help but like this man who took trouble to understand my brother and thoughtfully led the service.
A handful of people from my brothers past attended and it was good to hear stories untold by him. I was not aware that at his work on your birthday you brought n a bottle of whisky which was empty by closing time. Nor was I aware that he stood the bottle upside down just to ensure he got the dregs from the bottle and obtained his monies worth. This is not a family habit...
I journeyed back with two soprano's, friends of my talented niece who she often does concerts with, and once again visited St Pancras. This time I wandered around the station and at the base of the needless slushy statue of a couple kissing hello or goodbye found these carvings at the bottom. All round the base several carvings in what looks like brass appear telling stories of those who have passed through. The pictures a re lighter than reality.
Troop trains must have carried thousands of men from this station, not all going abroad of course, many training in various parts of the land. Others were returning from far off, some wounded, and on both occasions relatives may well have watched the comings and goings with worried thoughts.
This looks like a 'tramp,' or 'homeless' as we must call them today, it could indeed be a 'bag lady' but I do not know the story connected. This is a shame as the dog alongside has been well loved by kids and others passing by.
The photo does not do this justice but I plead tiredness and desperation to get to the Tube for my next train. Clearly this one is popular and the head well rubbed. I suppose it was a local who lived near, in or under the station at one time, possibly someone will know.
It is just not possible to picture this magnificent building from the ground. You must get high up and find a decent position. Standing on a Friday afternoon with around a million people roaming around is not the ideal way to take photographs.
It is even harder with a man asking for money for food and failing to get some as he was in my view influenced by drugs/drink and just not getting any from anyone. It is easy to feel guilty by not helping but easing your conscience will not help him and if you really wish to help I say give to one of the many organisations that work among sch folks, then those in need will get help.
Then it was home with one more change arriving in time for tea. However I could not get my knees interested in heading to the shops so made do with anything lying around. Luckily I had thought cleverly enough to get something in and leave it for my return, it did not feel anything like enough.
I keep trying to get fit and keep failing, this journey revealed just how unfit I am and I must do something about this and will start this possibly on Wednesday, if I have the energy...
On Thursday morning I will head down to this glorious station in London while making my way towards my brothers funeral on Friday. This means travelling via underground to Kings Cross, walking through to St Pancras where I will entrain for the Midlands. What a roundabout route to get there and this could be avoided if I was rich enough to own a car and drive up in a couple of hours.
How lucky the rich can be! Of course if the roads are busy it could take a lot longer to get there an the possibility of an accident, much, much less likely on the railways, will always pose a hazard that can take hours to bypass. I suppose rail has its advantages.
While my niece has the job of arranging things I also have to arrange
myself for this. For this reason I spent yesterday rushing here and
there for this and that and I am left flat by evening when I would much
rather have spent my day lying about the house in a manner to which I
have become accustomed.
Today was a mostly quiet day in the museum where I noted how the bug that left me weary last week was still hanging around, I hope it goes soon, I don't want to travel like this! Work however was quit today, a couple of visitors a couple of shoppers and one or two queries but not much else. In spite of this workload I managed to read the 'Friends of the Museum' magazine which was interesting, unlike this bile.
Now I am sitting here unwilling to answer all those emails that sit awaiting reply. This involves thinking, writing, amending the spelling and wondering why did I say what I did? Email is without a doubt the greatest boon to communication. Not only is there almost instant contact but you can put in writing what takes ages on the phone and costs a lot of money. It certainly takes longer to write some things but on the phone dealing with a woman takes even longer! A ten minute email against a twenty minute call in which she asks at the end for written confirmation is a joy to behold. Much better to send email and let her call to ask you to explain slowly.
Ah wimmin, what trouble they cause. One chap today has a cleaning job in a school in a town not far away. He was off today to see a lawyer re the treatment he gets there. Clearly they don't like him and it is probably his sense of humour that is responsible. Women do not take kindly to humour men participate in daily, their poor wee feelings get upset and we are supposed to run after them, I never do. They demand equality and then demand we do everything their way, this is not what I would call democracy. Putting them back in my kitchen might be a good use for them mind...
I had to dig out a couple of my brothers photos and now I want to be back in Cramond walking along the front looking at the bird life and the view of Fife over the water. The one major problem with this town is that it is far from the water.
There is nothing like the sea. The light, even when the weather is towsy, is different. The light bounces back and forth from water to sky and gives a new view of the world. The sea air, always bracing if it is litter full and trapped in a gully, changes the view of life. People appear happier walking by the sea, relax is the word that seasides bring, well not if accompanied by a thousand children obviously.
Up in Edinburgh for my mothers funeral eight years ago my brother and I wandered along the front after 'seeing the body.' This was a relaxing way to consider the new situation. Having known the area from Cramond right along to Granton Harbour it brought back many memories and we could see how things have changed, though most of the place looks similar to our memories.
We learn how to enjoy the seaside as children. This is passed on to a younger generation and on and on afterwards. Few children fail to enjoy the sea.
In the past people feared the sea. Men travelled over many miles to trade and explore in thousands of years past yet we still feared the sea while doing so. Only those who fish or those who trade or explore would consider sea voyages a sensible idea. However the need to see what lies over the sea is within many of us. From dugout trees to super liners we want to travel the sea to get to the other side but while this is attractive the majority would rather sit by the sea and just enjoy it from the side. Sometimes I think I can smell the see though this may be the drains of course. Sometime soon I must get down to the coast and bore people with photos...
I've been ignoring the press.
Now I like to now what is going on, I like good journalism, I like to hear, when I'm in the mood, about the world around both at home and abroad. Since the late 70's I listened to the BBC World Service for many years respecting the journalism and enjoying many of the programmes. Sad to say since the Foreign Office stopped paying for this it has become just another portion of BBC Islington and features more programmes full of middle class women telling us of their sufferings poor things, so I rarely listen these days. I also had a small 'world' radio with which I used to listen to the many radio stations based behind the 'Iron curtain'' on shortwave. This was a tremendous insight into the failings within these lands and a completely different and biased view of life telling of their nations glories, as long as the electricity did not break down. Sadly those days have gone and most of those nations populations have ventured into the west to work for half the money the locals earn and many have returned very wealthy to resume their lives in ever improving homelands, well sometimes.
Now the biased views I hear come from the daily papers who spend each day selling less and less copies and the BBC now employed as an arm of the Conservative Party in England and Wales and the Labour Party in Scotland. News always has a political slant, usually to the right, and the rest of the offerings are half truths, items deliberately taken out of context, blatant lies or the activities of famous persons which I see no need to find in print. To ease the drop in sales all papers have gone downhill, this has not helped. Tits and bums only sell so many papers and the loss of almost all the proper journalists leaves the 'workies,' the unpaid staff learning on the job, doing the work, this leads to most items being 'cut & paste' jobs from elsewhere, facebook or Twitter. The lack of education and knowledge indicates many are foreign and their mistakes being allowed shows the lack of sub-editors to check or care.
Where do we hear news these days?
I stopped reading the papers in the morning, this prevented my head being filled with their biased nonsense and stopped me arguing with folks on the comments sections to no avail. Instead I hear, usually, the basic headlines offered by Radio 3 and find I cannot get away from news items on Twitter or facebook, sometimes these are accurate! There are of course many online news blogs now available, often by unemployed journalists and many online papers also. Sad to say the majority are left wing, usually too left wing and do not offer the journalism I seek, however they are an antidote to the mainstream media and often provide the news hidden from us via the BBC etc.
What a terrible state to be in. Eastern Europe could find better news by listening to their radios via shortwave, the UK public have to do similar but via the internet today, what a state of affairs.
The media has always been full of lies.
The best newsmen know what their readers want and have no moral scruples about providing this. Sensation, shock, titillation, crime and scandal sell and the editor will provide this. The owners political views also drives the media, Rupert Murdoch, less politically motivated than by money and power, works alongside the Barclay brothers and Lord Rothermere to provide us with slanted coverage and half truths, this time to push through a Brexit which will enable them to earn more tax dodging pounds and never mind the effect on the population in general.
The readers buy the papers so they can strengthen the beliefs they wish to believe, the fear of immigrants, EU domination and rampant crime all around are the items driving sales in recent years much more than titillation and scandal. Being told your opinion is correct by the media allows many to rest in peace even if the belief is incorrect.
The Guardian is alone in encouraging the young liberal middle classes to pretend they are socialists with a caring heart. However women and gays appear to be the backbone of their sales these days and the quality of writing is often supported by advertisements from the big businesses criticised by the writers. That alone tells us much about both the papers and how business fears these writers opinions.
There is no paper worth reading, little decent news outlets, and I have found by ignoring the papers fro the past few weeks when I now try to look at them I am just to disgusted to continue. The lies never change and the truth is not 'out there' and published by the media. I am happy with a few headlines and happy that my life has not been changed one iota by ignoring the press. If only the rest of the country would do the same maybe journalism would revive.
What a quiet day that was.
I needed it as I had slept badly last night and woke far too early.
Two women arrived independently and offered a query for us, one phone call also and nothing else to do. I just managed to stay awake helped by Peggy talking to me i between the running around she had to do. Lovely woman to work with but neither of us had to much to cope with I say. She differed in this having to visit Tesco and fill bags with heavy things for a group later this week, I agreed while watching from a distance.
I then suffered one of those strange migraines that come when I am too tired, my weak skinny body cannot cope with effort these days and I was forced to go home and lie down for a while. This is not the classic pain filled migraine some suffer, this just sends a strange item across the vision and after around thirty minutes it has gone. Sometimes there is a fuzzyness and only once a headache. Whether this was because of my migraine, my weak and uninspiring hulk or just laziness I have not bothered to enquire.
This has meant I have had nothing to do but listen to the radio, watch football on the iplayer or stuff my fat face. So that is what I am doing now, it makes sense to me. I will shortly head for bed where I shall be forced to watch yet more football on the laptop.
Life can be hard sometimes...
I might have to lie about all day tomorrow also, I hope you are not having to work while I do so...
The 'to do' list was looked at today, some of it was attended to, most was ignored. However I have started to fix broken things and sort the mess here and there. Mostly I didn't do much.
The rain has washed away the snow and the weather is warm, well 7c or 48F which I think is OK though most still wander about in the winter wear. What a difference it makes not having to turn on the heat! The gas and electric men must be wringing their hands with joy at the thought of what profits they will make from the last weeks wee snow.
Of course being Monday folks will have returned to work and find lots of last weeks work awaiting them alongside this weeks work, joy all around. The post will be quiet for a day or two and then folks will catch up with the backlog and the postie will be busy. Those who spent last week whining about the snow will have forgotten their trauma by now, bar on or two caught in snowdrifts driving late at night I suspect.
Normal life has returned, maybe last week was better...?
There is only one topic, others are less important when roads are blocked with snow. I was wrong about the depth of the snow mind, I expected three or four inches and that is what we got here however the back roads to the south of the town have been filled by snow drifting off the fields and heaping up on the roads. Council snowploughs and gritter lorries keep the main roads working. But the back roads in many places impassable.
Of course some on the M80 in Scotland, who should know better, ignored all warnings and got trapped overnight on the motorway. Now they are complaining about the Scots government not doing enough to keep roads open but not blaming themselves for not carrying emergency supplies or indeed for setting out in spite of all warnings not to! We are such selfish people we want everything we want and we want it now, if we don't get it it is someone else's fault!
You note I have little sympathy for them.
Here the museum like many other organisations has closed, schoolteachers as well as kids hide at home for the most part, mums are afraid it is too cold for wee johnny yet others drag the kids round the shops, people are desperate to fill the shelves today, and yet others fling snow at one another or sledge down hills. I am not one of them! I went to Tesco for bread yesterday, I naturally run out of everything yesterday and journeyed in a blizzard for stuff. The blizzard ceased as I got hope and only now a day later has returned. I think we are nearing the end of this 'Beast.'
This does mean the football is up the spout of course. Only one league game might go ahead tomorrow in Scotland though the cup games appear to be on. It is not just the state of the pitches it is the roads round about, buses and trains cannot get through and teams cannot get to their destinations. This after a mid term shut down in January which we all knew was a daft time to stop as snow always comes in February! This time at least all suffer together rather than in dribs and drabs.
There is a bit of a fuss about the temperature. These days we record this in Celsius which means the weather at the moment is recorded as minus two, however if we record in Fahrenheit the temperature is a mere 29 degrees which is much better to my way of thinking. To reach Zero F we would see a recording of Minus 17 C and that would look good on the charts. It is when the minus is Fahrenheit we need to worry I say, mind you with the wind chill it was probably close to that as I walked down the slippery roads this morning. In Siberia, you may wish to know, the kids do not get off school until it is Minus 37. Fahrenheit I believe. Do you still consider it cold...?
I awakened this morning to the sound of slow moving traffic, the sound deadened implying that the 'Beast from the East' had arrived. Indeed three inches of snow has brought the nation to its knees! Schools close, people 'work from home' whatever that means, and snowmen arise from back gardens here, there and everywhere.
Only an idiot would venture out early in the morning to take pictures of snow similar to the snow seen in the past. Therefore at 6:45 am this morning I, wearing the old Royal Mail boots I found under the bed, waiting until the council gardeners tractor with snow plough fitted raced by, I sauntered out Ernest Shackleton style across the park.
My hope that I was the first to cross in the snow was quickly disappointed, not only feet had trod this way before but some clot on a bike had cycled across heading for work and an accident somewhere along the road.
Few others were seen, none spoke as I might be dangerous. Quite how dangerous someone can be in three inches of snow early before seven in the morning does not strike me that clearly, though I can understand misery at that time people being unwilling to work on such a day. Who can blame them? I wonder if any postmen will arrive? It is one thing to drive a van around the main roads but the back roads will not be cleared. Those forced to push those barrows will be unwilling to go up the hills with them, difficult and dangerous I would say, so I suspect mail will be hindered understandably for a few days.
The town is covered in snow and I hear that London is also suffering. This is good as it is about time they endured what the rest of the nation has to cope with. If however it lies then a disaster will be called and troops will be out on the streets. Poor Londoners.
I will do my bit for the nation while under this terrible blizzard, I will remain indoors drinking tea and laughing at those wandering abroad. I suspect it will all have gone by tomorrow...
The snow having stopped I cleared the short path to our front door considering that if I didn't the snow underneath would harden in the icy night and become dangerous. Naturally five minutes after I did so a passing thirty minute shower of heavy snow fell and covered it all again. I suspect this will continue on and off all day. I'm not doing it again....
The cheery weathermen, well the not so cheery lassie standing on the TV roof freezing to death, inform us there will be two more days of this stuff. I might go out and panic buy a loaf of bread later. I wonder how they survive in Norway without difficulty as we strive valiantly against two or three days of the stuff every five or ten years or so?
Is it just me or am I the only person who suddenly wishes to eat ice cream...?
Maybe we ought to have a competition, who can come up with a better name than 'Beast from the East?' I suppose the name originated in the tabloid media though some suggest it was in the Met Office itself,who knows? However the people who name storms Suzanne or Geoff are well capable of such things I suggest. Personally I would prefer 'Storm' or 'Gales' as to names on such things likewise 'Severe snowstorm' to 'Beast from the East.' I would think those out in such weather may have their own name for such snowfall of course, none of which ought to be seen on here.
How boring it is when there is little to say but "It snowed!" Nothing else is happening, football is off because of snow, politics is off because of politicians, TV is off because of the programmes. So I am off to finish lunch and go back to bed, it's warmer there...
Our family, just six of us when I was a lad, has shrunk in recent years. First of all died died from cancer, too much smoking over fifty years in 1969 when I was too young and stupid to comprehend. Then to our shock some 15 or so years ago my sister also had one of these things but of a different order and she too left us. My ageing mother complained that my sister expected to look after her and not the other way around! Then some eight years ago mum joined them leaving us three only.
Now my brother, who managed to get bits cut out of him last year and was still rather shaky, has gone and died rather surprisingly to us early this morning. His son managed to get him into hospital via an ambulance early in the day yesterday and spent a while frantically calling his sister, the one with the brains, who was working in Austria.
This morning we were told my brother died, possibly in his sleep, and now we are left wondering about arrangements and what will happen to the family there. The problem is my niece lives in London and while her brother lives at home (both are in their 30's) their mother has begin dementia of some kind and life in the house looks to be a difficult one as the son is not the wisest. Just imagine me without the intellect! Hopefully soon my niece will get things organised, then we shall see what we shall see.
Of course when I imply only two of us are left I ignore the nieces, nephews and their kids also but you realise that. There are plenty of them at Christmas time and all very capable of looking after themselves these days. However it does me my sister and her 82 year old husband along with myself are the oldest and she is drawing lots to see who is next! I have not indicated to her that I am not feeling very well...
The 'Beast from the Eats,' surely a name coined by a tabloid hack, arrived today but most of us did not notice. It was certainly cold and while some snow fell even lying for around an hour or so it soon faded. Snow showers fell and while leaving for the short trip back to the museum from Tesco I walked into one and looked like a Nannook of the north for a few minutes, I got no sympathy just grinning workmates.
The sky is now blue edged with pink as the sun goes down behind the trees, one day it will get stuck on top of them. The weather gets chillier, minus 4 (28 F) last night and my feet are turning to ice as I type but this is nothing to get excited about, especially as I will jump into my bed soon where it is warmer! Jack Frost was on my window a wee bit last night but most of us can cope. The kids managed to get themselves into Victorian costume and into school today without fuss and I don't think they cared about the possible snow one bit.
I have ignored the news for a while and feel it has done me a lot of good. No arguments on comments pages, no stress from slanted news coverage, no worries caused by fretting re the snow on the roads/rails/schools etc which lead to screaming paper headlines and mean little in reality.
My brain is stimulated instead by the Radio iPlayer and programmes found thereon. This is much better and puts the shambles of this government in perspective.
The 'Beast from the East' has not hindered the dying sun from lighting up the trees around here wonderfully. I will look out my boots for tomorrow just in case it arrives a day late.
Social media as well as other media is alive with warnings re the forthcoming snowstorm that will hit us tonight and tomorrow. Panic is ensuing as police offer driving advice, weathermen gives constant updates and we are given the impression that a storm of untold magnitude will arrive.
It might offer three or four inches of snow.
Now I appreciate warnings as to such weather, I understand information from the police re roads, railways re services and other helpful news will enable life to continue in the difficulties but there is in my view a sense of needless panic in the air caused by this storm.
We have had them before, I grew up with them as they happen every year, usually around this time, yet we continued to live as normally as possible. Schools closed then as now in spite of old folks grumbling that they never closed in the past, roads get slippy and blocked, trains services are delayed and within a day or two everything is back to normal.
It may well be this will be a week of snow and cold nights, minus 4 around here probably tonight, but most folks will survive and the world will slowly continue. The panic, the warnings the neurosis which comes with every weather occurrence is however a new phenomena which reflects badly on a nation which is not able to cope with anything that upsets their equilibrium. Maybe we have as they say become soft and cannot cope, maybe we are just more obviously selfish than we once were as a nation. After all we have long since dumped the 'all together for one another' attitude that saw people through two world wars and a depression or two, that created the NHS and organised the nation to work for the common good. All that is gone and the self is the most important aspect for most people, politicians have a lot to answer for as have the media.
I must go out in this tomorrow, I suspect I will survive unless frostbite gets me...
Church this morning was filled with brooding women.
One couple brought their firstborn into church, a couple of weeks old, tiny in comparison to everyone else, and was handed around from one woman to another. This was not just a happy occasion it was a very happy occasion as just over a year ago the mother lost her child shortly before it was born. There was much joy in seeing the face of mum and dad as they at last got to hold their own child.
Of course the brooding women of all ages do not have to spend the next couple of months waking every two hours feeding the brute. They will mollycoddle the child on Sundays and be unavailable at three in the morning when feeding time arrives.
I'm with them I must say!
While this maternity gossip was going on a three month old child in the foyer was being passed around in similar fashion. This one the child of the vicar and already being made comfortable with a wide variety of people. No difficulty in getting this one used to people he already met around a dozen this morning.
Watching the small child again gave thoughts of the wonder of childbirth and the way they are made. Children are made in the mother, they are not the mothers body, a fact which has to be repeated constantly to those who are willing to murder their child in abortion. The sight of sch a small helpless child shows just how dependent we are at that stage on the mother, and she on the father as two are required to create a child, not just the mum. God's plan via this method was to show us our dependence on one another as well as on him. How people can dump a child proclaiming it 'just a bunch of cells' is hard to comprehend when a child is so small and so complete. The human holocaust, some nine million in the UK alone since 1967 is a disgrace and judgement awaits because of this.
Another day of joy and fun has ended peacefully.
Nobody got injured, no fights broke out, no war ensued.
A quiet day at the museum.
Visitors there were, few today but asking awkward questions and not spending any money, that type we get irked by. This does not include the small school of around a dozen lovely wee kids who arrived to study the Stone Age. Some came dressed appropriately but the others thought the weather was too cold to dress up. All enjoyed their day as you would expect, they enjoyed the shop better however!
It is funny the books that people buy. This is the only copy left of 'Buses in Essex,' a slow seller but one that will go. That said I have a book on Edinburgh buses that I found fascinating therefore I see this as an acceptable and understandable volume. You can suggest the most unlikely subject but it is clear someone somewhere will have written a book about it and many will keep a volume on their shelves. Why is it that such subjects fascinate us? We seem for 'heritage' or 'nostalgic' reasons to like such books but there are always 'anoraks' who have a subject knowledge that would win the 'Mastermind' if questioned on their hobby. What makes us so interested in obscure things? An escape from the world, possibly, maybe just something out of the ordinary that tickles us by the obscurity? At least it keeps us off the streets.
As noted elsewhere Spring is in the air! This is great, the daffodils begin to sprout, the days last longer, the early mornings are filled with the sound of Robins and Blackbirds announce the dawn and on occasions the sun itself can be seen mounting slowly into the sky.
Naturally the rain has returned and they are threatening us with Siberian snow this weekend well into March. Nothing unusual in this as it happens often as this is winter. The kids will love the snow, the whole nation will come to a standstill, outrage will fill the media and nothing will change and within a day or two all will be forgotten.
Meanwhile 'Brexit' continues and as yet nobody actually knows what is going on! Maybe the cold weather will freeze the whole operation?
