History Societies

Spent an hour or two at the local History Fair. Excellent idea I say.
History is of course the most important of subjects after 'reading, 'riting and 'rithmatic!
With no understanding of where we come from, and the previous history of the world around us, with only a vague idea of the society in which we live, we are left with a distorted view of our nation. This indeed is something which troubles many Englishmen these days. Devolution has broken the false image of 'Britain' and brought the reality of the unions sham to the fore.
But that is a debate for another time.

This fair included stands from many local history societies, showing the interest folks do have in their local past, museums and re-enactments from Roman gladiators! That was something that got the crowd going. A very well acted show indeed.
Yet among the WW2 stands, the Record Office Bibliophile preservers, and the Police museum the stand that I enjoyed most was the metal detectors. These folks who wander through the fields gathering metal items that have lain untouched for, sometimes, thousands of years do a great job in bringing the past to life for us! In fact I held in my hand a gold coin, not very large but quite heavy, that was minted by the last Celtic King of the are before the Romans took over.
I was informed that I was only the twentieth person to hold it for over two thousand years!
That is bringing history to life! Mind you, I wonder if twenty people ever held this rich mans coin before it was lost.
This is the history to give folks! Now, if only I could work out some way to make a living out of history.......

Arguments

How is it that when a point of discussion comes up, it soon becomes an argument?
Now, when does a debate become a fight? Well I suggest this happens when you are tired, annoyed by self centred attitudes, or just wrong and refuse to admit it!
Obviously, this does not include me. I am open minded, nice, polite, and right! Right!
Good. I am glad you agree.

But once an argument becomes heated how do you stop it? Humour can help, confessing your wrong might do it, if your wrong of course. Or just realising that dealing with the closed mind of a woman will never lead to a happy debate. Logic is removed when her emotions are involved. Ever heard yourself say 'What is it about the word 'No' that you don't understand woman!' Often I hear you say.

Ah well. Life is a bitch and then you meet one.........

Women Tennis Players and Money

The girls at Wimbledon claim they are being paid less than the men, why? They play less sets, three at most instead of five, and feel that being given less money for doing less work is 'unequal!' The truth is these selfish greedy women take MORE money out of Wimbledon than the men! How? By playing in more tournaments! by having to play longer matches the men are less inclined to join in the doubles or mixed doubles games. This however does not matter to the 'two sets at most' girlies. Not only do they make money by entering these matches they have more time to sit around feeling sorry for themselves. Poor dears. If only equality was what it ought to be! Men being men, and women being women. Each being the best they could be and free to be themselves and develop themselves into the best possible. To accept the physical, mental, emotional differences that exist, and to LIVE WITH IT rather than force an unreal world on themselves and others. Then we could have equality. Then pay would matter less, but be rewards for ACTUAL work, and not just earned by going into a huff! And let's face it, tennis is boring!

Where Has the Time Gone?

This World Cup is good stuff, but it does leave no time for having a life! The gap in between games, the need to work for a living, leaves no time at all for those somewhat important things. Things like shopping, fixing the bike, or cleaning the mess left after the last game! Having to rise at three thirty in the morning means I can finish in time to watch the games but I am asleep during some of them! The second half of the last game is usually a mystery to me!
However, I sit here on a Saturday, the sun shining, the sky blue, and I have no time to enjoy it.
After finishing work I have reasonable time to snatch a quick snooze, have a bath, make dinner and prepare for the first game of the day. Nothing else gets done!
There are papers on the desk asking to be dealt with, dust, thick enough to write your name in, on everything that surrounds me, many important topics to be discussed on this blog, yet all are ignored. All, just lying in a queue, all being ignored because of this feast of football. Feast that is, when the game is good! Some could be better.

Oops, must go. The next game comes up soon and I have lots of things to forget before then.........

World Cup Wednesday

Wednesday, and still going!
I have seen millions of hours of football and we are not yet through the first games!
It is difficult trying to fit life in between the games, two hour gaps are not enough!
That's three exclamation marks! Four! Fiv...
Anyway, I am enjoying the games, and hopefully when Englandshire get beat tomorrow I will be able to spend a day at work surrounded by Englishmen in despair.
Love it! Love it!

Hey ho, on we go.......Germany v Poland coming up.

Started Well

Yes a good start to the World Cup. Lots of goals, some good footy, and some strange parts also. But a good beginning. Germany 4 Costa Rica 2. Hope the standard keeps up!

World Cup

So the hype ends here. And just how much has there been? TOO much I say!
At last the game, eventually, gets under way. Once the never ending ceremonies come to an end.
So may the best team win! I hope this is a good world cup, there has been far too many poor games in the past, and that I enjoy the winners for a change.
Please Lord, don't let it be England!
Please Please!!!!!!

Behaviour patterns

There is a school called 'Somerville' if I have it correct, where children are 'left to find their own way.' That is avoiding lessons if they wish and developing at their own level. That at least is the educational theory employed. Now alas, the head has decided that after 40 years the school must insert certain rules of behaviour. Something not known there previously. The reason is the parents failure to teach their kids the basic rules of life!
In short, up till now the school with no rules has always had rules. Rules inculcated by the middle class parents into their kids, so that while at this 'open learning experience' everyone knew how to behave. Alas this is no longer the case!
This indicates how far the nation has fallen. The middle class liberals have allowed the loose living pendulum to swing so far that liberal schools need rules of behaviour.

The truth is that self has won! The self indulgence of recent years is producing fruit. That fruit is self indulgence, a lack of concern for others, seeking only for ones own needs and pleasures at the expense of whoever gets in the way, and the sad thing is no one wants it to change! How could they, it would mean sacrifice! Self sacrifice at that, and no one wants that nowadays do they!

After the deprivation of the nineteenth century folks looked to a good future. This was rudely destroyed by the Great War, however improvements all round continued, in spite of the depression and another conflagration. This led to a desire throughout the nation to have a better life for all. When the money began to roll in folks found that having enough was not enough, instead the consumer society bred upon itself and led us into the self centred world in which we now live.

This does not mean there is no good to be found today. There are many who give all the time, and a great many who give much of the time, but overall we are increasingly becoming a shallow inward looking state. Concern for others has not quite died, but is taking more and more of a back seat.

And who is responsible for this state of affairs?
You and me, no-one else.

Rainy Day Off

I can see numbers of round ripples I the puddles caused by the rain which teems down this morning. This fills me with a sense of joy. Why? Because it's my day off! While I am sitting here, drinking coffee, snoozing, reading or whatever, Big Rab is wandering the streets cursing the weather and pushing bundles of paper mache through peoples doors. A postmans life is not a happy one during inclement weather! Still, I'm all right Jock! When the posties begin to appear I will go to the window and wave as they pass.
They always wave back.............

Football less weekends

As I watch the game on Setanta on Sundays I miss football then more than on the Saturday. I am so tired after work that I usually doze my way through the Saturday games, enjoying it all the same. But on Sunday I can see Scots football, hidden behind the Old Firm bias, and not having that experience leaves me with lots of free time.
So what have I done with it?
Nothing.
There are things to do, but the adrenalin is down, the effort is too much, and ...well, er..... em...I just exist, not live these days.
I have dawdled on the messageboards, leaving an occasional comment, picking a world cup fantasy team, and clearing some junk from the p.c. I have made and eaten soup, had what passed for lunch, listened to Radio 3, Classic FM and Radio 7's listen again for old comedies. Not much else. And it is not even five o'clock yet!
I would wander the streets but the rain is falling quite hard. Mind you, this can leave a lovely aroma in the air at this time of year. Maybe I will wander anyway.
It is nice not to have to consider the football for a while. However, soon it will be missed and the world cup will take its place. Who do we support? Anyone playing England! That's who!

Women's Magazines

What is it with women and trauma?
The pages of their mags are full of terrible sagas of pain and despair, and trial and tribulation. Never anything sensible or worthwhile, just trauma! On the plane the girl next to me read one such magazine and each page gave more lurid headlines than the previous. 'Surgeon Healed my Melted Face,' or 'My Son Was Switched at Birth with His Schoolmate,' it gets worse, do you remember 'My Lover Was An Anorak?'
Interspersed between these tales of woe we find meaningless celebs telling us of their trauma in'relationships' or how many kids they want, though what they will do with them later is something to discuss. Children are not a toy!
Oh yes these mags have recipe's and what passes for fashion, and of course the nonsense of a horoscope, 'You will be lucky today, the time is right for a decision, be brave!' Bolox!
And these girls have the vote!

women's, mags, only a woman would read them!

Scottish Cup Win

As expected the Heart of Midlothian won the Scottish cup again, and as was also expected, they made hard work of it. The Hearts are notorious for beating all the big teams, and struggling against the small ones. This game was no different! Still, I am used to it, and was very glad for Stephen Pressley when he lifted the trophy on behalf of everyone. Great moment.

Of course it's good being home, but hard work. Being force fed soap operas is not my idea of life. Why are such things allowed? They live on false confrontation, encourage selfish behaviour, and are contrived rubbish! Ban them now!

Lovely to see folks, and enjoyed all of them. One day when rich, I will travel up there more often.
And this in spite of the cheerless folk I met on the way. Many good ones, but too many sour faces.

Weather

So I get sunburn last week, the Spring birds entertain me in the morning, and now, the rain drenches me during the day.
Spring rain. The sort that comes down in torrents when far from shelter.
My language was not nice.......

Dawn Chorus

The dawn chorus is one of the joys of Spring! This past few days it has become a cacophony of noise as I trot off to work. The trees down The Avenue appear to have become home to a dozen or more Blackbirds let a lone the others. Each morning at four thirty the Babel of voices as I pass makes sure I am awake!
This morning I awake as always at three forty, soon enough the blackbirds song was heard. One bird appears very close, I think he is under the roof of the building, and he was loudly proclaiming his dominance of this area. By four thirty many others joined the clamour and I wondered whether they were announcing their presence or just chatting? By five thirty our boy was still at it, though by now the rest had moved on. Maybe they have mates who insist on them getting the breakfast in? Now, after seven thirty, there are still blackbird voices to be heard all around.
The musical voice which adds all sorts of everyday sounds to the melody. Car alarms, phone rings, any passing note is included by these clever birds.
They say that birds in warmer climes have more colourful outfits, while the birds in the UK have better songs. Listening to them this morning I can believe this.

Graveyards in the Rain

Spring rain can be an attractive entity. While I normally object to being soaked through I find this type of rain to be atmospheric. Early in the morning, with the light dimmed only by gray clouds, the birds singing as they chased one another through the treetops, and the occasional dog walker shuffling along beside his happy tail wagging pet, is a good time to wander on wet bank holiday days like these. Listen to the quietness, there is little traffic, streets almost deserted, noise from water rushing down into the drains, or rain pattering of rooftops. Plant life is refreshed at such times, vegetation gives of an atmospheric aroma, plants, blossom in trees, and early flowers combining to freshen the air. Walking through the graveyard behind the Congregational Church at such times rejuvenates the whole man, while contemplating the memorials concentrates the mind.
Churches which have been established for several hundred years are bound to contain the resting places of the great and the good from years past. This one is no different.
What one notices first of all is the ages of the dead. Many are children, many others young women who clearly have died in childbirth. Still others reveal how being rich, as those who could afford a gravestone had to be, could not prevent the diseases of the day carrying them away.
We never realise how healthy we have become since the establishment of the NHS. But are we grateful? Teens and twenties abound as much as those in their seventies and eighties. In fact, they probably outnumber them! The fear of graverobbers, the ghouls as they were called, is apparent in those many stone blocks which lie over the vaults, sometimes these contain several bodies, even complete families. Occasionally metal bars are used to surround the grave. Most however, reflecting their wealth, consist of a tombstone, three or four feet high, engraved with the details of the deceased. The poor have no gravestone, and in many graveyards are buried together at the rear, unmarked, possibly unmissed!
Being believers, as most in non conformist churchyards would be, many are embellished with biblical terms. 'With Christ, which is far better,' 'His works have gone before him,' and the like.

The rain, the blossoming trees, uncut grass and the bird life making the most of the wildlife found here, combine to create an atmosphere that reinvigorates the soul. Something those 'couch potatoes' among us miss out on. We spend too much time wrapped up in our work, our problems, our 'self,' and need to wander through such places in gentle rain, alone, and with our own thoughts to get a better perspective on life.

Writing

Every so often I take to writing, but I never get far. Recently I had an idea for a short story. I began to scribble the main idea, some of the characters, and one or two relevant points. I got no further. Somewhere on a disk is the beginnings of my major work, 'The History of the First World War.' The war lasted from the fourth of August 1914 until 11th of November 1918. My book makes it to midday on the fourth of August 1914 and falls asleep! There are several more, history based, items I have found. Not one is going anywhere, a sad reflection of the author!
Others are more able to make use of their talents. The word 'talents' I use there of course depends whether you like what is written or not! There are those who write weighty volumes, with hundreds of pages, that I would not use to kindle a fire with.
Woman's fiction is a good example of wasted paper if ever there was one!
When I first came to this backwater I looked into the charity shops for cheap books. In London these shops were always full of a wide selection of books able to satisfy every taste. Out here the predominate taste was Joan Collins, or Barbara Cookson! Dozens of similar volumes filled the bookshelves awaiting another feeble minded, self centered lassie desperate to escape into an unreal fantasy world. Yet , something to consider, these folks can vote! Time for a rethink I say!
Is it possible to find a woman who can write properly? A female who understands the world and has experience of life? Do thinking women exist?
Well yes as it happens. I admit you have to look for them, sometimes it takes a bit of digging, but they can be found. I found one once, beautiful, intelligent, kind, thoughtful, full of charm, grace, and all things good. I was in love!
She ran off with a Frenchman!
But there are still others around. I know another, and she is an author in waiting.
Blackberry Juniper has attempted novels, short stories and the like. Possibly she has put her mind to non fiction also, she certainly has the ability! Maybe she ought to combine the two and write a historical novel, set in the Victorian era, and become world famous?
This would be the least she deserves after all her troubles.
One day one of her attempts, and maybe one of mine, will end in print.
The world waits.....

Great Saling

Went for a little jaunt this morning. First time in years I was in the mood to cycle. The sun was up, the wind a bit chilly, coming from the North and all, but not too bad I thought. I cut across to the old railway line, now called the Flitch Way, and trundled uphill into Rayne.
This is an excellent way of using old railway lines. Walking, cycling, or in some parts at least, horse riding along them makes a grand day out. With blossom on the bushes and trees, birds singing overhead, the remnants of what appear to be badgers setts, and of course rabbit holes aplenty, there is much going on all around. Middle age women jogging , younger ones jogging with a push chair, can also be seen. Hope the kid appreciates it!
Stopping on occasion and just listening is worthwhile. Not much sound, a bird or two, rustling leaves, something dashing through the undergrowth, not very exciting maybe, but after town life a welcome change, and just plain enjoyable!
being brave or stupid I decide to venture down the Shalford Road. I knew it went on for a bit, but I intended to cut off and make my way past the old Andrews Airfield, and once again wonder how B17s took of from there during the war! Those big lumbering airplanes, loaded with bombs, on that small field trundling uphill and rising into the sky one after the other must have been some sight. And, I imagine, some noise too! The thoughts and feelings of men in their teens and twenties heading over the channel and crossing well defended enemy territory known only unto themselves. The thoughts and feelings of those left behind, giving the orders, not much different.
However, I passed into Great Saling and decided it was a bit much to continue down the Stebbing way, not being sure how far it was and all that, and instead made my way back past Blake House farm and into Rayne once again.
Country roads, when not being used by white van man or baileys feed lorries, are refreshingly quiet. Sure some use them as a chance to pretend they are in a Ferrari at Monza, but I found few, and most were careful of the bike. The road allows time to stop and stare at the fields and the distant hamlets. To wonder what history has gone before over these quiet places. Who has passed this way in times gone, the famous, the infamous, the vassals working the fields as slaves, or the big house owners jealously guarding their lands.
Did any leave these fields and join the 'peasants revolt' all those years ago? This area certainly took part. How many had survived the plague? The fields, now worked by one man and his machine once had twenty or thirty at one time working all the hours God sent. What work that would have been at harvest time!
Airmen, drunkenly making their way here from Braintree or Rayne, winding up the hilly roads, not that hilly but try it after a few pints mate! Vassals and peasants. Lords and Ladies,Kings and Queens maybe passed along this small narrow, roadway in times past.
And here was I also!
Great Saling has little to show the world. The 'Orangery,' whatever that is, was clearly an important red brick complex from times past. What it is now I am unsure. A few old world style thatched houses and little else to see. The village shop has closed. How will the gossips get their news now?
Back down the rail track and home and into the bath was all that remained.
An enjoyable way to spend your leisure, if the sun shines!

History

History is, after reading, writing and arithmetic, the most important subject to learn. Not only does it teach us what went before, but tells us about ourselves. 'What will be has already been, and what was will come again!'
We learn where we come from and this gives us a place from where to view the world. We learn how folk handled situations, usually much worse than our own, and note that they are just like us. We see how people are just the same now as they were two thousand, five thousand, and even ten thousand years ago, people were just the same as us!
On top of that, it is just interesting!
Who doesn't find old buildings, be they castles, churches, or strange mounds in the earth, something to investigate. The success of such programmes as 'Time Team' show this to be true!
History also shows up the myths that most of us grow up with. Each nation has a mind set, often built on tales of activities in it's past history. But investigating these shows that the myths never fit the facts. While they may not be always wrong, they are all to often glibly misinterpreted to suit the wishes of the day. The population would prefer a myth to reality.
Many are happy to watch 'Braveheart' and reckon it tells us of Scots history, when in fact it does no such thing. The actual facts, while similar, are very different, but it suits us to have half a story rather than the truth. The truth of Scots abuse by the English invader is much worse, but not so straight forward as it seems.
Learning other subjects have their place, and such study ought to be encouraged, but knowing our history, and that of others, helps us understand the world, and our place in it.

The Self

The Self is the centre of the world. That place deep within us that only we know, and sometimes that is the place we do not wish to know. Deep within our heart is a centre in which I am god! I am what counts, and I alone matter.
Now many will say that people are good at heart, that many do wonderful acts of goodness and mercy around the world, and I agree wholeheartedly. But they too share the creation within of a heart, a self, that considers that self to be the first and only.
occasionally we let it escape. When we do, the best of us can be seen for what we are. What is revealed is not nice! A vicious, deceitful, hard, uncaring, self lies in the very centre of our being.
Getting it to change is impossible.
Jesus is the only one who can change us. He died to give us a new heart, as the old one is so bad.
But obtaining that new heart, the amended self,while simple, is not easy!
Why? Because the heart does not want to die! The Self wants to rule!
No Christian who attempts to seek the best has ever found it easy!
Simple to test this. Just stand in front of Jesus and say, all that I have, all that I am, belongs to you, and mean it. If you do there will be only seconds, maybe minutes, before you realise you have taken back what you said. The Self dies hard!
DOMINUS FLEVIT. And no wonder.

Tired

How come I am always tired?
I thought it was just work, it's too physical, and being on my feet or using a bike all day is wearing me out. But add to that the virus (or is it 'virii?) that seem never ending and I think I have the reason!
I hoped this week off would help but so far no good. The thing is the brain is more tired than the body. This makes me more irritable than normal, and that is normal, and I just have not got the energy to bother or care any more.
What is the answer? Change jobs, well, with the condition of my knee that may happen anyway, but to what? I am getting old, I know nothing, and am discovering just how dumb I have always been! This has not been good for me I can tell you!
Still, I had better go and eat some foul concoction and see if it gives any sign of revival, fish maybe, but I doubt it.
Gloomy? Me? No, this is me positive mate!