The mist descended today to remind us it was January. After a quick stroll to Tesco I ventured out into the dank climate to remind myself that I ought to have stayed indoors.
I spent time indoors where the warmth was preferred scanning in pictures for my niece. This done I also added some old fotos that I will annoy you with later. It is amazing how long it takes to search for and then scan a few photographs. The ones you seek are in the last album you search through and the ones you remember as near perfect are as far from that as I myself am. That is quite far...
Amongst the old photos was this one. A mostly red brick building with a great deal of fancy brickwork indicating the wealth of the company that created this artistic façade of green, gold and silver tiles in 1903. What was once a Gas & Electric engineers company is now a mere art gallery, the 'Woolff Gallery.' At the time I took the picture, probably on my way home through the back streets rather than by bus as this was quicker in the evenings, the street contained many interesting buildings which I ignored. These can be seen on Google maps however. The business died a while back and the art gallery moved in and changed its name to T.J. Boulting, which makes sense. Many buildings in London, and indeed elsewhere, carry adverts still that go back into the distant past and it requires the head craned upwards all the time to find them. Not far from Oxford Street this area is called 'Fitrovia,' this includes the 'Fitzroy Bar' once frequented by Dylan Thomas. One cartoon featured this bar with one of those Blue Plaques given to the famous this time situated under a table in the bar with "Dylan Thomas Lay Here" inscribed thereon.
Miles away from there but down the road from the Maida Vale Hospital where I spent many a happy hour and occasionally worked also stands Lords Cricket Ground the home of the MCC whoever they are. Outside the ground stands proudly this mural created in 1934 featuring sportsmen of various talents, clearly not something seen by cricketers of recent years. Not that those who played cricket in the past held to high standards either of course. The noble sportsmen, portrayed as something you may expect to see on the Parthenon rather in St Johns Wood, speaks volumes for those who created this mural. The sculptor was Gilbert Bayes.
All that sunshine in London and we wake up to this! In spite of the mess that London offers there is a wealth of interesting streets to walk down, history, people, events, many of which I would avoid at the time can be imagined all around. If only most of the population were out when I pass through.
The 25th of this month was always an easy one to remember as not only is today Robbie Burns birthday, and Scots everywhere eat Haggis, drink whisky and commemorate his immortal memory but it was also my sisters birthday.
I had two sisters one of whom died early aged 56 of a nasty disease. Today I was somewhat taken aback as her daughter posted on facebook her picture as this would have been her 70th birthday!
Several things combined here, the picture, which I had not seen before, in which she was looking good, and the idea that she would have reached 70 years combined to shock me somewhat. This was unexpected and recalled the time she died and I travelled up to the funeral. I went to the funeral directors alone confident that nothing about a body would bother me having seen a great many working in hospitals, however the sudden emotion of the moment shook me then as it did to a much lesser extent today. In fact back then it took a day or so to get over, not so today.
The memories do flood in, such as her idea of sending me a packet of cheese and onion crisps in a small A5 envelope "Just to see what would happen." Or her irritating habit of calling or emailing me on Saturday evening to ask "Did you know Hearts got beat?" Knowing full well that I would know!
I often hear her when I use the phrase "What a load of rubbish," as this was one she often used, often near me. Her daughter is much like her also, but less grumpy, like what I am...
The warmest January day for two years they say. Indeed as I struggled against the southern wind on the way to the sorting office I noted how mild it was that early in the day. Shortly afterwards the rain came in torrents and I happily ignored it while I perused the laptop messages.
That sums up the day.
Tuesday was a busy work day. I never got peace to read my book as the phone rang, people came in and I had things to do they would not let me ignore. This is not fair!
The 'Cold War' is the next thing on the agenda at the museum. While the recent history 60s to 80's continues we also will offer some things regarding the nearby airbase used by the Yanks during the Cold War. Vast numbers married local women, many moving overseas some remaining here, and a great many local people having known of the Americans since 1942 when they first arrived are keen to remember them, some wishing they would come back!
This begins on Saturday so all being well I will be there also for the opening of the museum and the talk that follows. So many men flew from near here, many not returning during WW2, and many flew unknown operations until the aircraft moved on around 1970. Then the base was operated by the men who repair airfields so many men continued to enjoy the various delights of the town and district. Hopefully one or two might join us at the weekend.
For those of us who lived during the Cold War it is difficult sometimes to consider that things have changed. For years the 'Iron Curtain' hid life behind the 'wall' and since it fell in 1989 we now must note that the wall has been down longer than it stood across Europe! For many years I used to listen to the shortwave broadcasts from Eastern Europe on my little radio. This was very enjoyable, the variety of radio stations reflecting the economic power of the various states. Radio Berlin International from East Germany was highly efficient and professional, however the short hour or so from Romania very poor indeed, especially as there was little power to enable them to broadcast for longer. Thankfully all these places are stronger and most are better of in every way, even allowing for Putin's attempt to create his own version of Soviet power. Shortwave radio is sparse these days.
We heard quite a bit this week re Boris Johnson demanding £100 million for the NHS. This from the man who lied about leaving the EU enabling us to spend £350 million on the NHS from the cash we send Europe. Of course that was a lie, we get most of that back, and he is one who wishes to introduce a US style health service so he and his kind can benefit from owning the shares of these private health companies. This lie is another of many regarding the NHS that flies about these days and while it does so people are suffering in hospitals throughout the land because of financial cuts and mismanagement. So much so that even the bureaucrats responsible are shouting about shortage of cash and not just to line their own pockets this time. Note that people are suffering, many indeed are dying. Lack of staff, not helped by attitudes that arose since the EU referendum which have seen many European nurses return to the continent, people not being seen in hospital for hours due to lack of beds, doctors, nurses, sometimes they wait days, and ambulances held up at hospitals failing to attend casualties because of being unable to offload patients into the A & E. This alongside financial cut backs that lessen the number of ambulances and staff which leads to people dying while they wait.
That is my point. People die because of mismanagement and cutbacks, people die in hospital and in the streets, people fail to see doctors when they require one and death follows and no-one appears to care. Life is worth little.
This however is seen also regarding road accidents. Compare the result when a man takes a knife and kills his neighbour, he might get a life sentence and serve 15 or so years in prison. However a drunk/drugged or careless driver who kills someone might only get 24 months, not years. Some indeed do not go to prison at all because the law does not allow this and no-one appears willing to change this!
No-one is ever responsible if a patient dies, this used to be different in Scotland maybe it still is. No-one loses their job, no-one ends up before a judge.
We have aborted nine million children since 1967 in the UK alone and while many oppose this no government is willing to change, using the feeble reason of 'a woman's choice.' No woman has the right to kill a child and the child is not the woman, it is in her body, and this responsibility is not hers alone but also the fathers. No decent society ought to allow such murder but we do and find excuses to continue this. Life is cheap.
Life is cheap and we are demeaned by these attitudes. We care less for one another and love unimportant things more as we do so. Individuality becomes prominent, another way of saying selfishness. The 'rights' of one becomes more important than decent behaviour or the 'rights' of others. We care less about our neighbours, less about whatever the 'right thing' might be, although we all know what the 'right thing' in any event actually is but fail to allow this to propel us to act, and put ourselves first. I find I do it, don't you? Society in general in the UK daily to do the 'right thing' in so many situations encouraged by the gutter press though there is no other kind and dumbed down TV shows that reach for the lowest common denominator and the worship of celebrity, and you don't wish to know my opinion of most celebrities!
We need to change urgently.
The walk to and from St P's this morning was enlightened by snow which began as I went down the road and thickened happily as I made my way back via the green bits. Now it lies thick and unsettles those poor car drivers who have to struggle around in it. The traffic was queuing up as I came home but none offered me a lift of course. Hard hearted lot!
I fear this man found it all a wee bit confusing. Rain and seawater he understood but snow was a puzzle to him. He and his mate sat there staring into the distance looking askance at the snowfall. I hope he is not still there as he might be covered by now.
Why do we have seasons? Why did the good Lord not even things out a bit so we had more warm days and no snow days at all? Why do the weather patterns change? Where I sit was where the last ice age stopped some 8ooo years BC and man and beast then followed the green stuff that arose after the ice left and settled down. All that ice melted creating the North Sea and since then the world has continued with the four seasons and a wide variety of changeable weather. The snow reminds me we were threatened with Global Warming not so very long ago, is this still a possibility?
It appears remote today. Weather patterns do change the Sahara contains rock carvings that reveal how the whole area was once covered in vegetation, including Hippos and Lions and so on, today it is somewhat more arid. The Sahara still creeps south each year, slowly but surely, will it ever stop?
I am not one to complain but while I enjoyed the walk home I would find it irksome if I had this for months on end. There again hot sun for months on end also would be too much also.
I managed, after much struggle, to find the Heart of Midlothian Scottish cup tie against the wee Hibernian team and must say how much I enjoyed this. Not only did we play all the football and win the game by one mere goal but the banter with Hibs fans afterwards was excellent, none of them speak to me now! I have not enjoyed a game so much in years and was totally exhausted by the end. Not long after half time I began to wonder if a defibrillator might be required! Justice was done and the Heart of Midlothian remain the big team in Edinburgh, as we all know. I didn't need to shout at the referee in anger either, that shows how well he ran the game, apart from siding with them too often of course.
Having been at church for an enjoyable service this morning and then in Tynecastle via the laptop with almost 20,000 others I feel lonely now. This place appears so quiet with the occasional passing vehicle and raindrops bouncing around here and there sweeping away the snow and leaving puddles for the workers early tomorrow. There is little on telly, other football appears tame in comparison, the radio is not worth listening to tonight and even the late night dog walkers are staying inside.
Silence is a strange thing after noise.
Only one brave soul, or possibly daft soul, crossed the park when I was here. A young female looking for friends I suspect and finding no-one about soon returned from whence she came and disappeared into the blizzard. No dog walkers were to be seen.
Much of the day has been spent attempting to find speed on a very slow laptop. While mine has problems speed is no longer one of them, this older laptop is however very slow. Running the normal clean up items has not worked so I have been indulging in deep cleaning today, not of myself you might guess, and at the moment the brute is 'scanning and repairing drive (C)' it claims. So far 10% has been attended to and I suspect another few hours will pass before 100% is reached, that is if the thing doesn't close down again like it did earlier.
It is in my mind to dump this slower machine on my sister one day, she has trouble working 'tablets' and this might be easier for her though I see not how. The speed of the brute is a problem however, the speed is much slower than it ought to be and has always been frustrating, she will not cope with that! Passers-by might also object to laptops bouncing of their nuts as they pass the house.
I have run all the cleaners, the anti-virus, the anti-malware, the anti macasser, Disc clean up and defragment and an AVG Tune up system and now I await the slow ponderous machine slowly working through then drive, this might not be finished by morning.
Still I can keep going for hours, I have plenty of this stuff to see me through the night, that can't be bad...
After
a year of almost constant bugs bugging me I now find myself somewhat
free from them for a moment. This is great as I am able to write drivel
on here and research dead men with a degree of enthusiasm that had long
since departed. I even began tidying the house, replacing things on
shelves they have missed for months and putting away dust covered items
that ought not to have dust anywhere near them. I am even contemplating
cleaning the oven! Now that doesn't happen every year.
Of
course I still have the fridge to do, paint the bedroom, fix the tiles,
and a thousand other items that required work months ago but they will
be done, if the weather warms up and there is no football to watch. How
lovely to be almost fit. Indeed I have done more exercise in the last
two weeks than done in months before this, I am almost beginning to feel
better about it. Naturally much of it is not helping my knees get me
up the stairs, that requires different exercises that I must add, later I
think...
Stumbling
through Sainsburys ignorant and cretinous customer base today, I had to
go there for items only they stock, I remembered the coffee had run
out. So the choice was which of the £3 bags to buy, I am now hooked on
real coffee for a while, and there could only be one choice, Costa Rica!
Grown
in the 'Tarrazu' region it is claimed by 'connoisseurs to be one of the
best coffee growing areas in the world.' Doesn't it say that on all
the packs? Just asking... Whether it contains 'Milk chocolate and
floral notes' I am not yet sure but it is smoother and less bitter than
the Italian and Ethiopian coffees I had before. This will bring me into
the world tomorrow morning and if it doesn't work I will send it back
to the Tarrazu mountains.
Something
exciting is happening, a French bloke is seen taking the salute
alongside Mrs May, has she gone over to the other side? Did I miss
something in the news? If she joined the anti-Brexit mob it is likely
it would not be printed in the right wing press, they like to keep that
sort of thing secret.
Maybe we are going to war with Trump? I must check twitter...
The rising sun promised another day of sunshine and bitter cold winds. This mattered to me as I rose earlier than usual to devour my 'Ancient Pave' bread and slimy cheese breakfast. How 'ancient' the recipe is for this bread I know not but I suspect the ancients never made it like this. However as I increased the heating level and downed the last of the coffee slumped at my desk I perused the papers for interesting information, the type that keeps me in touch with what really matters in this world.
I found none.
The noise outside forced my nosey nature to rise and open the curtains and watch the workmen laying out the 'Stop and Go' signs for the road works up beside the building works. A small digger was also unloaded proving that no matter how small and no matter how efficient such machinery might be they can still deafen anyone better than a runaway jumbo jet!
While watching the men clad in bright yellow suits I noticed the Daffodils are beginning to break through already. This is the 17th day of January are these meant to appear so soon? As the cold wind howls through the gaps in the windows I ask 'Is it global warming responsible?'
It is always a glad sight to note bright flowers but this does appear early, and so far I have failed to notice any snowdrops, a flower which is supposed to appear at this time.
When I first arrived here all these years ago I thought to myself that this view was reminiscent of all those old postcard vies of 'Old England' that once filled postcards. I soon learned that these expensive houses have heavy traffic all day, and much of the night, hammering past their door and paying stupid money for a five or six hundred year old house, some with remnants of the one time weaving industry that flourished here since the 1400's within, paying such money does not always lead to peace and quiet. At least you mix with the 'right sort of moneyed people.'
I wandered into the sun, not quite like a cowboy did at the end of these old movies and headed up the hill. The thought crosses my mind, when those old cowboys wandered of into the sunset where did they go? Could there be a small town somewhere filled with ageing cowboys waiting for the evening so they can continue their journey? Did they meet a friend or were they run down by a stampeded of passing Buffalo (that's 'Bison Bison' to you)? The thought that 'The West' was populated by thousands of men heading into the sun does not inspire. They would certainly have problems when they reached California...
I wandered into the sun until I decided hunger was important. Having exercised, done the washing, even dusted the house and now wandered abroad I felt enough was enough and it as time to return to my normal vegetative state. This as you can see I have succeeded in doing...
As I ambulated towards the museum this morning, not quite awake, it crossed my mind that it would be good to rest my eyes from the laptop. Staring into this infernal machine leaves them strained in winter light and does them no good in the long term. Happy was I then to sit and stare for an hour or so in the quiet of the museum.
Lies! All lies!
To ruin my day I was asked to stare into the museum computer and search for pictures for the upcoming 'Cold War' exhibit.' This meant scanning fotos already scanned of the nearby RAF base used by the US for many years. The one major problem with these is the vast number that feature personnel, and important personnel at lunches, dinners, prizegivings. It also appears few have names to go along with the faces!
Of course I suppose having to proof read a document and having Peggy
arrive to do the same and find mistakes I had missed says something, but
I will not say it, and that too interfered with damaging my eyes on the
screen in front of me.
In between this people kept coming on the phone to book children onto half term events, while doing this the computer closed down and as I logged in I misread the password and closed it down altogether. This required contact with IT somewhere in Essex to open it up again.
As I returned to work people came into the shop, after them folks visited the museum, then a call to book someone onto a future event and after all this I had killed the computer again!
After an icy stare or two I was instructed in the use of passwords and kicked in the shin in a loving manner and returned to my duties of not finding anything exciting to select. The computer was still working when I left for home via Tesco.
There I was unlucky enough to miss a loud shouting match at the checkout, I got there too late after dithering over the types of oven chips on show. I can smell them burning as we speak....
When you rise and find the clock reads 8:45am you begin to wonder what makes the day arrive before you are ready for it. Stumbling into the day I finished breakfast so late it was lunchtime before I got started. The word 'started' is a misnomer here as I didn't actually start anything though I thought about what I could do then didn't do it.
Once begun I cleaned things, exercised things, and got on with things until foolishly I needed to check the census returns. Everything stopped while I searched these for a man and his family. Thus taken back into the lives of men who's only option was farm work or joining the army was not enthralling. Just imagine the long hard days, the weather, the low pay and little opportunity for advancement. One man joined the army in 1915 and it was noticeable that on his attestation for his name is singed by the sergeant and he leaves his 'mark.' He was 41 and working as a 'grocer' at the time it appears. Incidentally he was dead by 44.
All this occurs while the banging and crashing continues at two nearby building sites with lorries blocking the road and annoying the traffic. The larger of the two sites began later than the first and while it is larger it has moved much faster, most must have been sold by now I expect. The smaller, containing only four quite small units, has had may troubles and the man in charge may just wish to dump it on another. Meanwhile we just sit back and wonder if the infrastructure has been inserted to enable this to work without collapsing and somehow we doubt it.
On the Firefox toolbar all the avatars for the important links sit proudly. At the far left happily sits the Google avatar. This is not news to many of you as it appears there on many toolbars however the other day after I had been perusing the papers for something to get irked about I noticed this avatar had become a 'Daily Mail' avatar! Ironic that this now sits at the 'far left!'
Why did this happen? How to remove it? Is it a sign Google sponsor the 'Daily Mail?' Could it be DM 'workies' forced to amend avatars across the nation to pretend people support the paper? Is this the work of this treacherous government I wonder or one of their Russian 'bots?
I am in turmoil here.
Daily Mail readers!
BTSport featured an appalling mushy advert the other day featuring a black girl and her mother preparing for her wedding. The items required, the dress, the weeping mother all were used to sell whatever the product was. Sadly I had my head over a bucket while watching this but did manage to note that as mum (no dad I notice was this an attack on the descendants of those West Indian men who live in London) as mum walked daughter down the aisle and presented her there the camera changed position to reveal the husband, a handsome white male!
Have you noticed that in the UK adverts may feature black males with white wives or white males with black girls but never do we see two blacks together, why is this? An advert for some food product some years ago featured a very happy black family and ran for a while, and I have a faint memory of an Asian family of some sort featuring also but these are rare. I know that nobody uses gays to sell products because this stops people buying the product but surely black couples do not have the same effect do they?
I had a great deal of research to do this weekend, it wasn't really a great deal but I kept putting it off and now it requires some work before Tuesday, and I have done little. One reason was the census! You see on ancestry it is possible to look at the census returns for the town since 1841. Therefore numpty here began to search these, downloading lots of them for research later, in the hope of finding people who lived in this building in times past. Naturally it failed!
For a start the numbers either do not run as now or they do not exist at all. This is not unusual as many houses then had names, however most people rented their homes and numbers are seen on some of the census returns, it is that these numbers are 'odd' numbers and today the numbers are 'even' numbers on this side of the street. I wonder if some cooncil worker in the big office would have details of these? I must ask around the people that know these things, if the do know these things that is.
On the latest census returns the numbers go up to 96, with is interesting as I look for 98 next door. However that does not appear and 92 - 96 does not fit with the housing as it stands just now, some building work has been undergone I note from old maps but in what way does this affect the numbers. The next number I come to is helpfully 110, which does not exist any longer having long since become a Sainsburys petrol station. No help to me in any way.
The older census either has no or odd numbers or is somewhat mixed up in the way it lists the homes. Names are given which sometimes helps, 'Baptist Minister indicates the Manse that once stood up the road (Knocked down by the Luftwaffe in 1941), and 'Mount House Lodge' also indicates a house on the maps from 1875, the oldest available.
The other problem I find is the need to check 'Old Maps' when doing this as I get involved in the maps. It is invariably interesting to note the changes, not always noticeable at first, between the town today and how it was laid out in the past. Obviously maps do not indicate the lack of pavements, unmade or 'rough' roads, or the state of the buildings marked on the maps, then we have to seek out old photographs to compare with what the maps reveal. Luckily I was too lazy to start searching through photographs yesterday or today. However just looking at the first map I bought when I came to this town twenty one years ago, then around 30,000 persons, and noting how it has grown with housing estates filling in what once was fields and offering some 40,000 persons to annoy me today. Each week small corners are filled in and a block raised her and there to really annoy the postman who is expected to deliver there but allowed no more time in doing so.
All in all the time spent perusing a map, and an ageing won at that, is never wasted in my view. There is always old industrial sites to note, now housing though I suspect many living there have little idea of what lies in the ground beneath them, old railway lines, buildings that were there soon after the Normans built them and remain solid still, public houses that once filled with men from the industry and are now blocks for those 'over fifty' and oak trees that stood for several hundred years in the middle of the road that have been sacrificed for the motor car, so many interesting changes.
Of course I may just be weird...
I failed to find anything.
It has become dark and dank.
I'm back off to bed...
Is it just me or is Blogger slow?
Several times when attempting to press 'Publish' the thing has 'hung' for a while before posting.
This laptop is not very good, the buttons are not doing what they are told and often do what they wish so it makes me wonder if it is me or they?
It works but there is a delay.
A couple of days ago everything ceased for a few minutes, nothing would come up and all halted.
I am beginning to wonder if 'Firefox' is to blame? I went over to 'Chrome' for what I wanted and this worked but it may be things returned to normal by then.
All in a days grumble...
Poor old broke Nigel Farage is even more broke now. The EU investigated his claim for an assistant and have decided the assistant was not assisting Nigel in the EU but working on UKIP party work. This is not allowed under EU rules and Nigel knows this.
Such a shame the EU have decided to withhold £35,500 from him, half his assistant funds because of this lapse. He must be feeling ashamed to have made such a mistake, he must be embarrassed by such pilfering of funds and feel really repentant. Ha! Some chance! I suspect he will appeal and blame anti-English EU staff for attacking him.
Poor lad, hasn't he suffered enough...?
Poor Donald Trump, another political success story, he has been getting grief just because he referred to peoples from Haiti and Africa as 'shithole nations' and wished for better, whiter, people from Norway instead. Norway it must be said has indicated they are doing OK thanks and Haiti and Africa, those that bothered to listen, have responded with an amount of disagreement with him.
It just could not get worse but then it did!
The 'state visit' which gave Donald the impression he would cavort about with the english queen, has been put back and the short visit to open the new American embassy, moved south of the river and based on an idea by Geirge W. Bush, this visit also has been canned.
The idea of lots of helicopter rides above the traffic avoiding UK citizens indicating their displeasure at his visit plus the truth that he was never going to drop in just to open an embassy, has led to his breaking off any visit to the UK at this time. Pity, it might have been interesting to see peoples reaction.
Worse still, our own imitation Trump, one Boris Johnson, has risen to his man's defence slighting the Labour Party by claiming it is their fault Trump is not coming. The Labour Party, who are not at fault, would do well to proclaim this to the rooftops. Boris is no doubt lying in his teeth, something he does often and is very good at, but he intends to show the UK stands with the US. Actually we all know this and we also know that Boris considers Trump a liability and awaits the nutter gunman who is scheduled to end the reign of Trump, whoever that may be. In the USA the chances of someone taking a pot shot at Trump must be high, I just cannot believe it has not yet occurred.
It was like living in a cloud today, not that I noticed as I did not arise from my pit until almost nine in the morning. I keep waking up around four or five and remain awake for ages only to find it is late in the day. The misty day was worth missing and by the time I had got round to eating and checking whether the mouse has got through the steel wire (he had failed to do so) and then read the emails etc it was lunchtime.
I did spend some time on newspaper forums arguing with people. The 'Daily Mail' is always good for a historical laugh. The history much loved and accepted by the readership bares no relation to what actually occurred but this suits their wishes perfectly and all the problems are the fault of the migrants who flood the land, or the unemployed or benefit scroungers or Europe or someone else but we don't know who but it is not us and bring back the England we knew in the past (which never existed) and do it now!
They don't like me.
Neither do the gay/secular types who cut and paste the same queries day after day on suitable items. Offer an answer and they offer the next question or excuse in line, there is no real debate. This is probably because these 'bots' just post and run and do not want an answer and those that answer don't want the honest answer just one they like.
They call me names, I am upset.
However I managed to finish the 'Wilfred Owen' book that I was reading, one by Dominic Hibberd. It certainly is a big book and Dominic has spent much time going through as many letters, books, poems etc as possible in the writing of his work. It is a good book and the details regarding Owen's war experience appear to ring true to me, and they offer an insight into the young officers life in action while doing so.
Too close to his when young, strangely close in my view, a mother steeped in Victorian evangelicalism but also steeped in class consciousness, a class awareness that never left Owen and often saw him, rightly I suspect, considered a snob. His joy at being accepted by the poetry society in London, mostly gay as he was, revealed yet more snobbishness as he was delighted to be with 'gentlemen' who had studied at 'good schools' and then university, something he would have liked to do. His lower middle class background did not reach this level and failed to prepare him for his short attempt at joining the ministry.
Altogether a somewhat mixed up chap who took too long to get away from mother, his dad appears to be OK but his nearest brother a bit of a dreamer, and once he was finding his feet in the real world the war broke out and intervened with his life.
As an officer he appears to have been decent to his men, though they were of course just 'course' and he found 'batmen' who he was attracted to in a way that the rest of the platoon might have made comment about if they had known. One at least was shot dead in action alongside him.
His fear was being regarded as a 'coward' and this thought may have just been in his own head, his misreading of another officers attitude towards him. His time at Craiglockart Hospital, where he met Siegfried Sassoon and altered his poetic style, was replaced by light duties and then back to the front line. There his courage won him the Military Cross and a few days later death by opposition fire as he led his men across the Sambre Canal.
He died in action on the 4th of November 1918 the armistice arriving at 11 am on the 11th of November almost at the same time as his parents received the telegram regretting to advise that Wilfred had been killed in action.
Having finished my book I wandered in the mist seeking fresh air. Here I met an old postman who informed me of the death of another postman who died on Monday, that I believe was the very day he came into my mind for some reason. Then in the gardens I spoke to the chap who twice a week has the job of tending this large space, (that's him in the distance, I was unable to offer help today) occasionally with help and more occasionally with volunteer help. While it looks dreary at the moment it is still full of birds and beasties and as it lies low the garden prepares for the soon to be Spring show of flowers abundant, blue sky and sunshine, hopefully.
Too busy moving furniture to fond the mouse hole and fill it with steel wool.
Too busy exercising to get fit.
To busy making stew.
Too busy praying.
Too busy writing up some of the area's 1918 war dead.
Too busy considering writing up a 1917 war dead who is coming into the museum, well one of his descendants is, he is unavailable.
Too busy to have a noon nap.
Too busy to write....
