Good News and Bad, for Some.

Another Edinburgh Derby, another Derby played at Hampden, another victory for the Heart of Midlothian.  Rain, storm, offside goals and dives for penalties did not cease the onward advance of the men in maroon.  

Indeed it was ever thus, since the first cup final between these two clubs, the Heart of Midlothian winning by 1 - 3 at Logie Green Road, and in all subsequent major semi and finals the Heart of Midlothian succeed.  The last final was in 2012 where the wee team bravely lasted until the end of the game, not counting the one sent off, and lost by 5 goals to 1.  Tee Hee, it is inevitable the Big Team will win such games.

Look at the overall record.

 

1896

 

Since the first meeting between these clubs at the East Meadow in Edinburgh on Christmas Day 1875, which the Heart of Midlothian won by one goal to nil, success has always been with the men in maroon.  So far some 651 game have been played between the sides, the Heart of Midlothian winning 286 Hibs 206, mostly with the help of biased referees.  6 games were abandoned, the Hibs went home when the could not take another beating, or complained it was 'too cold.'   The Hearts have scored some 1100 goals and with the help off dubious penalties and their friendly linesmen Hibs have accrued, what they say, is 924 goals.  Hmmm.  In simple terms what this means is that if Hibernian wish to win as many games as us it could take them 20 years to catch up, but as you realise, that will never happen.

 

The sad news regarding the passing of Sean Connery is not a surprise, he was 90.  However, he is without a doubt the best actor Scotland has produced and will forever be 'James Bond' to one and all. He went from a milk round, horse and cart and all, to 'Dr No' and Ursilla Andress.  Not bad for a milkman.  He delivered in Comley Bank for the 'St Cuthberts Dairy,' my dad did the same round for 'The Edinburgh & Dumfrieshire Dairy,' known as the 'Dummy.'  He went from that to the United Wire Works.'  It does not seen fair...

 

 

I will not mention this, just in case the folks in Taffs Well are listening....

Absent minds...

 

Toon Pool

 

My mind has been elswhere this week, it has as yet failed to return.   

This morning, urgently, I sauntered round to Tesco.  I was congratulating myself on how quickly I was gathering the few needfuls when I realised the manager, and an accolyte, were chatting in front of the chocolate (I need this for my calorie controlled greed).  Without thinking I indicated I wanted in there and helpfully grabbed his arm and pulled him aside as you would do a friend.  His sarcastic answer I did not catch, and only later did I realise what I had done.  Mind you I could have mentioned that he was not just taking up space but failing to wear a mask, I wish I had now!  In fact I think he was teaching a new manager how to cheat, how to lay out goods to entice the unwary, and increase sales, something stores do all the time, that is what increases his opportunities for advancement.  He will be on £30,000 or so I reckon.  

I returned home, gleefully dumping the shelf filling stuff and resting my laurels and planning the next job.  This entailed hobbling to the charity shop which asked for books.  I had gathered a few aged books of no worth and those that I decided I could live without and packed them in a couple of bags.

This was not easy, it is not easy to put books out, especially as in the next 12 months I will probably buy one or two back again!  These books were, it must be said, no longer any use to me.  Funnily enough, Waterstones have indicated I need to buy now or my £10 voucher runs out.  That comes next.

 

 

It was as I left the charity shop, something to do with heart attacks, I realised I had forgotten to buy a Digital timer for the night heater, the old one having died of excess.  So into Tesco I go, upstairs by 

escalator, downstairs by creaking, find what I want and on to queue up alongside large bottles of spirits going cheap to use the self service machines.  This, as you realise is not wise.  Two items and I struggled!  The blasted machine would not let me move on!  I banged it intellectually, thumped the timer on the bag space, and muttered sayings from of old.  Then the young lad came over and indicated I was doing it the wrong way round.  I had put the items in the bag space and was trying to transfer them to the basket space.

I cried.

 

I have spent the rest of the day watching trains to calm down, once I found a railway that had trains running that is.  

Virtual Railways.

 

If you thought my life was too adventurous as it is I have discovered a new line of excitement, live Railways pictures!  What's that you say?  Too exciting for you?  Oh!  That's not what you said...

Anyway, I have had hours of fun watching huge US frieght trains rumble across America! 

Virtual Railfan covers a host of US rail cameras.   Many static, some with operators ensuring close up shots of depots and passing trains as they hoot their way through.  And do they Hoot!  Horns blast all the way, no excuse for being on the line when they arrive.  All stations have their 'anoraks' offering useful information, usually in an unknown language, most also using radios to keep track of the trains.  

I avoid them. 

 

The pictures come off the laptop so are a bit dull.

The train we see here, four 6000 hp (I think they said) engines, pulling 113 trailers.  I was amazed at the number of units pulled along, I counted 175 on one train, and almost all have double deckers units, box cars are at similar height.  Clearly US railroads do not have low bridges to go under and glancing at the passing railcars you get an understanding of the nature of the USA at a glance.  This tells us the land is big!  The size of the train indicates the line was laid before anyone got there to block it.  It also, as History tells us, was pushed through in spite of opposition.  Nothing was to get in the way.  This ensured free passage of trains, even the mountains did not hinder travel.

 

 

Box car number 113 passes by in the rain.

Another thing made clear from these pictures re the huge size of the States is the weather.  Laramie, in Wyoming, was deep in snow and remains that way, California was hours behind and in bright sunshine.  Of course they also have different natural problems, Wyoming is near mountains, California has forest fires endangering the station!  In minutes I can fly from one state to another, and this is almost like seeing several different nations rather than one. There, I suppose, lies the problem.

 

I suppose having been inundated with 'soft propaganda' over the years we already understand the US mentality, however looking at the land we see it is possible to gain a clearer conception of how that mentality came about.  The size of the towns pictured varies widely, the top picture comes from 'Big Sandy' in Texas, a small place, a mixture of good houses and what I might refer to as 'White trash' in the run down streets.  Hardly a blot on the landscape, while up the road more complex cities are found, all with that rigid street pattern inherited from the Romans.  

Even the Heritage line seen here, real coal used in this engine, indicates something of the US mind.  It is easy to imagine the sight of early trains steaming across wide open spaces, chasing Buffallo and scaring resentful Indians (oops, Native Americans).  At a glance we see the incoming migrants, the ones who now oppose migration, removing the locals and transforming the land by sheer hard work.  In only 300 or so years the wide open spaces have been concreted over and a new people emerge.  Quite whether that new people realise they are all Americans is as yet unknown.

Here at Fort Madison, the reconstructed fort is just out of sight to the right, I first saw a train carrying a great number of doubled decker white containers, followed by similar green ones and a variety of other goods.  Much later that day a similar train appeared in another state, although I do not know if it was an adjoining state.  Yesterday the train appeared again and tonight, not that long ago, it passed through Elkhart, Indiana!  Is this the same train I wonder?  Is the driver lost?  Is this one of those Soviet style trains?  You remember, Soviet rail freight ran from 'A' to 'B' even if there was no reason for this, the Plan said it must happen, and no-one questioned the Plan.  Is this train just wandering about?  Could it be a train journeying across the whole of the nation?  If so, how do they know when to drop the containers off?  How do they divide them up?  And if the driver is pulling 150 trucks how do the brakes work?  Are all these trailers brake equipped?  Do they have a wee man in Brake van at the back desperatelly truning the Brake wheel and losing his mind?  Just asking. 

 

Several UK stations now have similar cameras in place.  Crewe has three, but I cannot find number 1, York also and there are others.   It is a similar set up, controlled from somewhere, I as yet know not where, followed by a variety of people, mostly male, who like trains and in some cases have no life. I know how they feel!    

Saturday, Nothing to Say

The rain approaches.  

I see it from the window. 

Today I have been sadly trapped by sleep, Watford v Bournemouth and now Barcalona v Real Madrid. At 6 on BBC Alba I will be forced to watch Killie v Hibs, I think, and then prepare for tomorrow - by sleeping.  

It's a hard life, though I had to venture up to Sainsburys for bread first thing this morning.  I was still not awake by the time I returned.  ZZZZZZZzzzzz

 

 

Wandering Free.

 

Parcelforce arrived before 10 this morning to collect my package with a smile.  He obviously had not read my Twitter feed.  Relieved of the bulk I then proceeded deliberately in an easterly direction towards the Post Office, here I deposited another, smaller, package with the young lady who smiles at me when I visit.  She appeared a bit down this morning for reasons unknown.  I always use this PO as it is better when you get a smile rather than the expression of the ex-Stasi operatives who are employed at the main PO.  They have never employed a human being in that office yet as far as I can see, and it has moved position several times in the past 24 years, to hide from past employees perhaps?  Smiles?  Did Soviet Union Border Guards ever smile?  Neither do that lot.

Having despatched two parcels, with nothing to do but catch up on things undone, with the sun shining to the south and big gray clouds gathering in the west I headed homewards via the parks to see some greenery, thus wasting time and being unable to attend to things undone.  The rusting leaves were annoying one man who was brushing a pile of them out of his driveway onto the council pathway.  It came from their trees I suppose.  Autumn is upon us, though in fact it is Sunday when British Summer Time ends.  I suppose this means the clocks go back.  Church services everywhere, at least where they open, will find at least one person an hour behind! 

I can cope with temperatures in the 50's, neither cold nor warm, but as I hobble along I am warm enough.  People out walking dogs and venturing to and from shops appeared at ease, allowing for masks and social distancing.  The dogs of course just wanted to speak to everybody, social distancing means little to them.  

 

 

Rishi Sunak, known better as 'that chancellor bloke,' has been barred from a pub in Stokelsey, in his constituency.  Also barred are three other Tory MPs in northern constituencies.  This because they voted against feeding needy children over Christmas.  On top of that the prices seen in the Commons 'Tea Rooms' have annoyed many,especially when voting against feeding children.  

It is nice to see free individuals standing up for children, especially this one who, as a publican, may well be losing money in these difficult times.  

Marcu Rashford, the Manchester United footballer who started this campaign, has been supported by many individual cafe's, restaurants, pubs and councils in deciding to feed such children.  I suspect Boris will be too busy this Christmas feeding his own, if he can work out who they are.

 

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

So I waited in. 

I waited.

I waited.

Eventually I looked at the tracker, it had not worked the last time I looked.

Collection attempted at 10:53.

NO it was NOT! 

I am sitting here at the window, I was packing another package, no bell rang, no sound.

Before 11, I took out the rubbish, no red van in sight.

Sign in and enquire.

Cannot sign in, do not recognise details.

Vitriol is now rising (or was that a type of motor oil?).

Several attempts made, no response, eventually it worked, why I know not.

I rebooked for tomorrow, grudgingly.

I then went onto Twitter and found their site and placed a far from gentle expression of irritation there.

Later an email helped me sign in, no mention of package.

I fumed, griped, declaimed, bemoaned, and expostulated.

I also expressed my annoyance.

I needed to go out, it was now too late, I had another packet to post.

Grrrrrrrrrrr etc was my mood.

 

My irritation worried me.

This year I have spent much time fumong over laptops, Boris, Trump and a variety of things near and far.  This ought not to be.  I am sure I was less keen to express myself before but I think age and Lockdown, tiredness and lack of self discipline are showing results.  Spending too much time alone is not helping, I must get out more.  

I get frustrated when things do not go my way, self importance I suppose, wanting it my way, just like a spoiled PM does.  It's not pretty is it.  I supsect the driver today, if he actually arrived, I saw no van, did not ring the bell, he may have tapped on the door, the drivers do this to avoid touching the bell and risking catching Covid from it!  The fact that all drivers tap the door means the door is less healthy than the bell, but never mind.  Wearing gloves is beyond them.

These things canny be the Good Lord trying to expose the corrupt being inside of me, I am all to well aware of that!  However, it is strange that so many things have gone wrong recently, small things, like laptops.... 

Anyway, next time I will use OPD, much more responsible, but dearer.

 

Last night, by a majority of around 60, the Conservative Party voted against enabling schools to feed hungry children over Christmas.  This to save a few pounds from a government that has wasted Billions this year alone.  Five Tories voted against this bill, one having to resign her position this morning. The rest, including 5 Scots Tory MPs voted for the bill.  One abstained, Cowardly Dougie Ross, the Scots Tory leader.

Here is, what I am informed, an up to date menu from the Commons Tea Room. Here, in similar manner, is the Dinner menu.

Many are asking why those MPs on £70,000 and more a year, not counting their expenses, bits on the side and newspaper writings, why are these individuals getting subsidised meals?  Drinks in the many bars are also subsidised and to end this would create a bad feeling in the House.  Personally I think that may be a good idea and pre Christmas a good time to do this.

 

Wednesday Grump!

 

Yesterday morning I looked through my grubby window at the sun glinting on the rusting leaves opposite.  A short individual hastened by supermarket shopping in mind, dog walkers appeared, the dogs once unleashed racing to meet their friends, tails wagging happily, slowly behind them the owners gossipped about the same gossip as the day before.  Children meanwhile were being dragged unwillingly to school, some ensuring they kicked every fallen leaf, others annoying mum by asking the question "Why?"  As the sun broke through the gray clouds the world appeared a happy place.

This morning no sun appears, instead rain continues to fall, as it has done all night, drenching the park leaves scattered across the paths.  Mums, hidden under umbrellas to protect their hair, urge the children on as they walk to school, concerned less with their education, more with avoiding spoiling the new haircut.  Dogs meet happily, owners less keen.  The 'moderate' breeze (The language used by weathermen requires improvement I say) shakes the raindrops from the branches and takes the loosened leaves with it across the faces of those passing by.  Even the traffic appears slower, rain does not usually slow these drivers down, yet less traffic is heard and that less keen on racing than normal.

Wind and rain, the one condition that postmen fear.  I look forward to paper mache being deposited through the door later today.  

 

                                            Gaurdian
 

 The sulk has done it again.  His bully boy ways, well known in Eton, has seen him offer £60 million - he says - to Manchester to do what he tells them.  The Manchester mayor has told him what he really wants and so Boris has sulked, remember he was roundly abused the last time he went there, and held back nearly £40 million of that as punishment for disobedience.  The inefective pandemic policy that has failed throughout the nation, especially in England, continues with a mixed lockdown in various places, none of which are required by local NHS operators.  Once again Dominics view, supported by mixed scientific advice, encouragement from money men whom no-one knows, and Boris's sheer incompetence rules the day.  Manchester standing up and disagreeing with Boris has sent him into a sulk, this man is Prime Minister!  It must be remembered that Manchester supported Boris in the last election, many up north turned away from the Labour party and voted Tory!  This was to support Brexit and remove the black immigrant from the country, but we are not supposed to say that.  Here we see how much regard Boris has for those voters.

 

Afternoon, the rain still rains, only those who must go out do so.  I remain inside wasting my life.  So far I have downloaded the census returns for the town from 1841 - 1911, we are in fact two towns and the other one's census will be downloaded soon.  Doing this I was struck by the confused manner of census operation and how the town has grown every ten years.  People talk as if in the past the townhad always been the same, they are ignoring the constant changes that have occurred, no town stands still, no town has 'always been like this' until now.  Growth throughout the 19th century and into the 20th, all this ended after the last war when items made here were being produced cheaper in the far east, the town slowly faded at that time.  People here consider life was better when they were young in the 50's and in many ways they are correct, however much of that lies in their personal memories and forgets the many fears and woes of youth.  Those pictures in old photographs looked back to a better day while grumbling that kids today do not know how lucky they are.  It was ever thus, these are the 'Good old days.'

 

 

 

Saturday Cogitation

 

 

 

I've finished a book!

This is the first book I have got through in ages.  This is not from having ceased trying to read, I just could not be bothered with all the big words.  The effort to read was too much, possibly 'Lock Down' having an effect, but few words other than those required to identify items on supermarket shelves or football results were asked for by me.  This obviously did not stop me buying books!  The shelf is creaking with unread words, none in cuneiform but some dealing with that sort of thing, others just cheap, old books, that were a sudden desire.  They are now collecting dust until the right time to read them.  One lass sent me the wrong book, they all look the same don't they?  When I pointed this out and offered to keep the wrong, but perfectly acceptable book, and happily pay for it she allowed me to keep it for free.  I doubt she paid much in the first place, it is quite aged.  That was good.  I think she may be working for home for 'pin money' selling books she has collected from all around.  Good luck to her.  'Be Inspired' is the name she goes under on Amazon, though the rest of the books in her bookshop did not inspire me today.   I will however keep a look out.

Paiul Theroux's book is a condensed version of his travels.  I like his books, well written and honest. The tales do occur some time ago but allow us a glimpse into the lives of many in far flung places often in difficult times.  'The Great Railway Bazaar,' 'The Old Patagonian Express,' 'The Kingdom by the Sea,' where they miss Edinburgh for no good reason, and other travels are detailed.  These are shortened versions of his books put together in 1991 so a bit dated but still worth a read I say.  

I of course paid little for it.  

Did you know that there is an election occuring in the USA?  They kept that quiet didn't they?

It appears that the present President, a madman by all accounts who suggested first that the Coronvirus did not exist, even though he was informed about this in January, and then told his subjects to take Bleach to cure it!  Two did and died apparently.  He also caught the virus, he says, and recovered informing his people not to be afraid of the virus.  He ignored the 200,000 dead and millions till suffering while it appears he tries to stifle free health care in the US.  

Joe Biden is the other man.

That's all we need to know to vote for him, whoever he is.

 

 

As I look up from this monotonous Celtic v Rangers game I note the traffic has not lessened this Saturday in spite of the county being in a tighter 'lock down' from today.  Nothing appears to have changed, most here obey the rules and Saturday shoppers are ignoring them as much as usual.  To many football matches to watch for me to stir outside but as the death rate is higher I suspect the care homes are suffering a bit once again.  That is, both patients and staff!

 

Deal or No Deal...

                                                                                        Euro News

Boris has always made it clear,  by saying he does not wish a 'No Deal' that he has always wished for a 'No Deal' situation with the EU.  This is almost within his grasp.  The EU does not wish it, the thinking population does not wish it, the unthinking Brexiteers and the Money Men such as Rees-Mogg do, they will make a killing from this.  Indeed someone has suggested Boris makes statements on cue so that some are watching the markets fall and then rise, ths lining their pockets.  Could our PM be involved here?  The economic disaster that awaits us all, confirmed by the 'Daily Express' telling us all will be well, on top of the virus he has made a hash of controlling, Dominics Herd Immunity does not work, ask the dead, will add to food shortages, unemployment and Boris running away, to the USA if Trump wins I guess.

 

 

Steam Dream

 

 

Another day with nothing to report, so here is a picture of the 'Night Scotsman' departing Kings Cross in the 1930s.  I acquired it on the web forums and canny make out the name at the top to acknowledge the pic, looks like 'Lake,' a photogrpaher.  It is an excellent image, full of action, striking at first sight and it is about railways, steam railways and this is always good.  

 

Just imagine the train journey in the 20s or 30s.  This train, which I have discovered by 1932 only took passengers beyond Edinburgh, Edinburgh had the 10:35 service with 1st and 3rd class sleeper cars, this train, with varying coach numbers dependent on the season, could take 14 coaches half of which were similar sleepers, through the night to Glasgow, Perth, Dundee and Aberdeen.  The Mail coach went to Edinburgh.  

Imagine being cooped up with a stranger in a twin bedded 3rd class sleeper?  It would be hoped you got along.  If you used the sitting accomodation, six or 8 persons in a compartment, probably full of smoke, someone chattering, another snoring, the train rattling along at night with smoke coming in the window opened for ai, worse if the trip took you through tunnels, some wishing it closed, another wishing it open, the hazards of communal life.  

Consider also the war years when travel was restricted and the train over crowded.  Men in uniform sitting on kit bags in the passageways, smoke again filling the air, draughts however would get in somewhere in the corridor, they always did.  Of course during wartime no lights could show, just in case you were attacked, this would increase the crowded 'fug' all around.  

For myself, a quiet compartment and a seat at the window so I could look out at twinkling lights in the distance, not during the war obviously, would be cheery enough.  A sleeper would be nice, if I could afford the 1st class price and avoid snoring companions.  Not much of a view however.  The noise of the steaming train, the occasional whistle sounding warning, the shaking and 'clickety-clack' on the rails would lull me to slumber.  I'm in the mood for a late night train journey now.

 

Sunday Dawdle

 

In betweenfootball matches I took a dawdle across the park.  Sun shining, cloudy sky blue, few around in park yet in spite of a chill a young couple sat smoking funny cigarettes possibly thinking it was summer.  Nothing exciting was happening, even the dog walkers were not to be found.  Several men had been lumbered with the kids however.  One man I passed had two, dressed in football shirts, racing to the park, dad carrying the ball, kids dreaming of glory.  Another was taking his 4 year old into Argos (does this shop ever close?) she ready to spend all his money.  Yet another was walking several in a manner of a man herding sheep, I suppose that is the only way with a crowd.  It's times like these that I miss the family.  Even though the brutes are all big lumps now I miss the wee kids hanging around, they think differently, act differently and are small enough to pick up and dump on their mother.

 

 

The million pound or so being spent repairing the mess that was the High Street has led to people bemoaning the works being in the way.  This town creates moaners in a way that makes me jealous.  I cannot moan like them.  The grumble about the street then grumble about people repairing it!  Once finished they will grumble about how it looks, the cost and what ought to have been done, though they themselves did not suggest one idea before now.

 

 
The Old Town Hall does its best to rise above all the goings on, including the erection of a Hotel complex (that is not required) that is costing umpteen million, paid for by a council that cuts services (Tory council) and thinks this a good way to spend money.  Even Dominic would think this weird.

 

The rusty leaves are abundant on the ground now, the chill is with us always, the sun appears in the wrong place, low down, and I have been putting the heating on.  This does not bode well for the next few months...

 

8. The Sumerians - Fall of the First Cities

 

 

This is the video I talked about yesterday.  I forgot to link to it as I was rushing to get ready for the football!  Be warned, it is very long and needs to be taken in half hour sections.  Well worth it mind.  The computerised graphics are helpful, the photos good, and the History quite good also.  As always there is room for debate but watch it anyway.  It appears to be some sort of Podcast to which he has added pictures.  Enjoy two hours worth!

 

 

Sumer Writing

Waiting for the football last night I watched this excellent programme, on ancient Sumer.  The Sumerians appeared in the far distant past, possibly from the hills, possibly from the desert, or even possibly arriving by sea not long after the Ice Age ended and sea levels even in the Gulf rose high, some say as high asd a 13 storey building.  

Around 5500 BC they began to erect huts used as temples at Eridu, now far to the south in Iraq.  The civilisation flourished once they understood how to manage the land and by use of the massive amount of crops they grew became wealthy and the number of cities grew.  

By 3500 BC huge numbers lived in cities, some 20,000 or so in URUK the capital itself, clearly an elite had risen and the masses worked the land and gave their craftsmanship to the state.  This would entail grumbling similar to what we hear daily around us, but obviously not from ourselves.

This also required a better means of accounting, and these people were good at accounting.  Clay tablets were used to keep records and over the years a form of writing developed, civil servants arose and multiplied, administrators took their important pompous positions, and soon writing concerning numbers, merchandice and payment became what is now called literature.  (This does not include the daily press, obviously).  

To think that those first words, soon developed from indications of how many sheep had been sold or how much Beer had been given to workers, those words today allow us into the minds of a people 5500 years from us.

They do not appear to be much different from us.

It was the thought of what writing can do for us that struck me, not for the first time, and how powerful this is.  Printed words take us back thousands of years, into foreign minds, new understandings in science, maths (the Sumerians were good at numbers, they gave us 60 seconds in a  minute, and had complicated maths long before the Greeks were thought off), farming techniques, stories and histories, many of which kings of old gathered together with the intention of helping them rule better. 

It is also interesting that as far away as China and in South Americas that writing developed not that much later.  Growing population leading to growth of cities, dominationg personalities, and need for organisation appearing at almost the same time everywhere.      

Note: Any spelling mistakes here are in fact 'Sumerian' spellings.

   

Wednesday Mumbling

As the sky darkens and large raindrops, almost but not quite hail stones, hammer down I begin to wonder why people are fumbling about in the park opposite with torches, banners and tape.  I do not wish to be nosy, I just want to know what is going on.  What sort of individual participates in such activities when the weather is so bad? 

A couple of hours later, while I was attempting to identify the new Heart of Midlothian players in the first 'Bet Fred Cup' match, it became obvious some sort of Map type game was underway.  This involved lots of fit people running around, checking off various marked spots in the park and elsewhere before returning to base.  All very exciting, if you like that sort of thing.  

We have all done this in one way or another in the (distant) past.  Late summer, early Autumn fun, wandering in the early evening, crashing through piles of fallen leaves, chasing who knows what, following the leader who clearly knows what he is doing, possibly.  This is how we train army officers.  Anyone who asks any regiment of the British Army, "Can your officers read maps?" will get a negative response.  This is why!

The football was interesting, if only because it was my team, my home for so many years.  The dubious penalty that won the game was unfortunate but the best team won.  Not that the visiting manager was pleased I must say.  I wonder why?

 

Boris made a speech yesterday offering massive amounts of money, making the nation a green energy leader (by stealing Scotland's green energy) and a lot of Blah! Blah! Blah! that we have become used to.  I followed bits on Twitter and gave up.  Boris is great on promises, making brash statements and being 'Churchillian.'  Nothing of value ever comes of it.  Churchill of course would never have allowed him anywhere near the front bench.

We have debts, we have an uncontrolled virus, and even Scotland are struggling at the moment to control this, soon we will have the absurd Brexit final.  Stock up now for the many things that will not be available after December 31st, especially fresh foods.  Get a garden quick and start planting!

 

Post, Rain, Coal Mines,

 

 

The weathermen said 'Rain in afternoon.'  "Good!" said I, and before noon wandered down to the Post Office with my two packets.  The sun shone the sky was blue, it was even warm on the far side of the street, so I crossed over, slowly these days annoying the motorists, and wandered happily into the shop.  I was in so quick I forgot to put on my mask and risked a £100 fine.  I told the sweet Asian lass at the counter (I only go there because she always smiles at me) I was Boris Johnson's dad, so she let me off.  £2:14 paid, change pocketed, xerox paper bought, I was down to my last sheet, and off I went back home.  Naturally the sun had gone, the sky was dark gray, the rain hammered down, and I was fair drookit by the time I got home.  I am still wet now, my hair cold and clammy.  Was the cloud waiting for me?  Could it be the BBC had got it wrong?  Before noon and the rain was falling, now, after one pm the sun is out again and I am still cold!  It is a good job I am not one to complain, that's all I can say.

 

I just typed in 'Freefotos rain' on 'images' and found many excellent free fotos.  At least they appear free and I am making use of them.  Very useful when you do not get out as much as you would like. I had to get out this morning to post the family details I had been looking into.  My mothers side were all miners from Fife, and it appears that between the early 1600s and almost 1800, some say much later, miners were enslaved to the Lairds who ran the mines.  Coal being important, using trees for firewood banned, the Lairds ensured worers were available for this horrid, hard, dirty, dangerous work by passing laws forcing them, and their descendents, to work for them in their mines.  Moving location was outlawed, wages low, danger to life high.  Add to this small cottages, not always healthy, poor diet, no NHS, and lots of children, it can be seen that attitudes towards coal owners would not be based on love!  

I note that not only do my forefathers first appear in the East Neuk of Fifearound 1620 but they marry people who also cannot move on.  This does not help chasing up relatives, especially with the Scots habit of giving one child grandad's name.  So we have Colin and Robert repeated endlessly over generations, not helped by other family lines doing similar.  The Scottish Mining Website gives details of many accidents, about 5 deaths a month in Scots pits, during the 19th century alone.  The uncles I knew in Cowdenbeath, realeased from slavery by their time, would not allow their sons to go through what they endured.  All got apprentiships somewhere else. 

My grandfather had 11 children.  Two died early, and he went through 3 wives to get them, they too died early.  Not unusual in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.  On those few occasions I have had to work physically hard I see it bears no relation to men working with pick and shovel down a mine in which the coal face may be less than 2 feet high!  The dust, physical difficulty, bad, uncaring management, and low wage makes it difficult for me to complain at the work I have been involved with.  

My mother had a story concerning a family member, possibly a brother of my granddad, who became a manager in a pit.  The family cut him off as if he had died!  This was a crossing over to the other side that could not be forgiven, and never was.