It's Lee's Fault!

It's all Lee's fault!  She made a post today all about Fish & Chips! That got me going hungry as I was at the time.  Actually when I think about it she was really blethering on about 'fast food' in general and this delicacy came into her thoughts.  Reading her post about a variety of 'fast foods,' meant I ran to make myself baked potato and beans in the microwave, which was the fastest I could manage at lunchtime.  The chatter about fish and chips filled my little head with memories of the joys they brought.  As kids we rarely had such delicacies, it was too expensive for a family of six, and while we often had a bag of chips (3d) when coming home from cub scouts or such like fish and chips from a shop was rare.  Mum instead cooking the way mothers ought to cook on the cheap and ensuring we ate properly.  Of course the supermarket ready meals did not exist then.   As I got older, and richer, I was often out and about, and when following the football on a Saturday the journey home from the delights of Glasgow or Dundee was broken by a stop for beer and fish and chips.  When young it was the chip shop often buying chips for the older men, when older the chips were delivered to us, often in the pub.  Milnathort and Harthill both had two excellent and well used 'chippies' in those days.  The best such feed I ever obtained came from the chippy lying a few yards from the Arbroath football ground.  Sadly Google Maps show this grand shop has disappeared.  In those far off days the harbour was full of fishing boats and the fish supper was fantastic, I am not sure if this was because of the freshness of the fish or the oil used in cooking but no chips have ever tasted better!  The wholeness and nourishment in what in Edinburgh is referred to as a 'fish supper' is proved by the many football teams similarly feed their players this way on the bus journey home.  While richer sides fly by chartered airline or dwell in five star hotels the majority have to board the coach for the journey home.  Inverness Caledonian certainly do this making use of a regular stop on their way home, possibly alongside the few fans who have followed them on their day out.  

The manner of presentation of the delicacy that is a fish supper varies wherever you live.  In Edinburgh (pronounced Edinburra), Scotland's Capital City the correct manner is followed.  The the fish and chips are wrapped and laid in front of the schoolgirl earning a pittance behind the counter and she will enquire if you wish 'Salt & Sauce' on them, the correct answer being 'yes.' At this point heart attack levels of Salt & Sauce will be sprayed over the meal before it is wrapped and handed to you.  The sauce is 'chip shop sauce,' a brown vinegary sauce and one of the worlds greatest delicacies.  The EU need to protect this I say.  Scotland you will note has the highest rate of heart attacks in the world.  I blame smoking and drinking myself.   In Glasgow, one of the provincial towns, I believe the heritage of poverty leads them only to offer 'Salt & Vinegar' to heighten eating pleasure, a very poor deal if you ask me.  Most shops also have cheap sachets of other condiments, Tomato ketchup, mayonnaise, whisky and the like if that's your pleasure, at a cost however.  One Glasgow man allowed into Edinburgh claims racial discrimination because he has to pay for tomato ketchup when refusing brown sauce.  He reckons the sachet ought to be free as is the salt & sauce.  He is clearly the product of a poor education as he insists on refusing the 'ambrosia' while asking for tomato sauce, tsk!  

When I first ventured south I was amazed at the failings of the English chip shop.  Not only do they not offer this delicacy on your chips, they just wrap it up and dump it in front of the customer.  Once you pay you then have the bother of unwrapping the thing, adding salt and no sauce is on offer!  Not only this but the pies are not proper 'mince pies,' instead these strange things come with a tin foil tray and wrapped in paper!  Why?  Is it not possible to remove the wrapping before cooking?  What is wrong with proper service?  On top of this crime the chips themselves are foul!  Scottish chips have a wonderful soft flavour, in England they all appear stale to me.  Where do their chips come from, China?  All chip shops here appear the same to me, all chips taste dull.  The fish also is different, in Scotland a fish supper means Haddock, down here it is Cod.  Judging by the prices when last I looked it must be caught in the Pacific and flown business class to Billingsgate!   One of the three chip shops here has a nasty habit of asking what you want, taking your money and then making you wait!  Just try that one down by the 'Doocot' on a Friday night pal!  The small towns nearby have nothing in the cooker until someone comes in and orders.  I have never come across this before.  In Halstead there is one small shop where each night a long queue wait mournfully as they cook the dinner slowly, one by one I reckon at the time they take.  No fast food there! 

I'm hungry again, and being now to close to 16 stone to eat anything much, where's the lettuce....?  It's all Lee's fault!

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Sodden Saturday

Wandering about in the drizzle I noticed this bike chained up against a lamppost.  As it has been there for two weeks I am now wondering about the quality of local thieves.  A bike chained up for any length of time would disappear in many parts of this land yet here not even the gypos have gone off with it!  When you consider the number of people passing by, kids interested in bikes, stragglers, van drivers, it is a surprise to see this one remaining here.
On the other hand who owns it?  What happened to them?  Have they forgotten the thing? Did they arrive on the bike before popping in to the registry office behind the wall, get married and lose interest?  Were they arrested for a discretion in the park and find themselves detained at her majesties pleasure, or are they in the council offices waiting even yet for an answer to their query?  They could be some time yet I fear!  Is it of course possible they parked it to speak to a passing alien and now reside on Alpha Centura?  Maybe I could sell the 'Daily Star' a story to that end, they might go for it.  Short story writers could have a field day with this situation.  

The crow claimed to know nothing.  He and his mates gather here daily, encouraged by the brats in the park leaving their lunch strewn across the grounds, but while seeing everything say nothing. Instead they just eat, wander about snootily, scare of the passing seagulls and go about their business in the manner of their forefathers.  
Of course, he could be a Rook you know....

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Friday Follies

Autumn leaves are forming, the nights are closing in, it's dank, dark and dreich!

"James," said Mary to her husband, "that young couple that just moved in next door seem such a loving couple. Every morning, when he leaves the house, he kisses her goodbye, and every evening when he comes homes, he brings her a dozen roses.

Now, why can't you do that?"

"Gosh," replied James, "why, I hardly know the girl."

                             *************

"Could you please cut off my dog Buster's tail?" 
The vet examined his tail carefully, and then with raised eyebrows replied, "But there's nothing wrong with his tail. He is such a handsome fellow - why on earth would you want this done??" 

"My mother-in-law is coming to visit," I explained, "and I don't want anything in the house to make her think that she is welcome!"

                            ***************

A Muslim bloke I know was bragging he had the entire Koran on DVD. 
Being interested, I asked him to burn me a copy. 
Well, that’s when it all kicked off!

                           *******************

Mary smiled knowingly as her two friends complained over coffee about their failing memories.

"Sometimes," said June, "I catch myself with a jar of mayonnaise in my hand, while standing in front of the refrigerator, and I can't remember whether I need to put it away, or start making a sandwich."

Liz nodded in vigorous agreement, "Oh yes! Sometimes I find myself on the landing of the stairs and can't remember whether I was on my way up or on my way down."

May replied, "Well, ladies, I'm glad I don't have that problem, touch wood", and rapped her knuckles on the table. Then she looked around suddenly. "That must be the door. I'll get it."

                              ***************

The judge says to a man charged with a double murder,
 "You're charged with beating your wife to death with a hammer." 

A voice at the back of the courtroom yells out, "You swine!" 

The judge says, "You're also charged with beating your mother-in-law to
death with a hammer." 

The voice in the back of the courtroom yells out, "You rotten swine!”

The judge stops and says to Nigel in the back of the courtroom: " I can 
understand your anger and frustration at these crimes, but no more outbursts 
from you, or I'll charge you with contempt. Is that understood?"

Nigel stands up and says, "I'm sorry, Your Honour, but for fifteen years
I've lived next door to that man and every time I asked to borrow a
hammer, he said he didn't have one.“

                              ***************

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A Cheerful Tale.

Battle of Stirling Bridge

Here we see a lovely shot of the 15th century Stirling Bridge that crosses the River Forth.  Up above on the hills stands the Victorian Gothic 'Wallace Monument,' the monument to Sir William Wallace and his victory here in 1297.  Wallace, one of Scotland's great hero's was indeed a man of courage, integrity and love of his country, he is not to be confused with a small cretinous New Yorker who fled to Australia to lose what marbles he possessed and make costly unhistorical movies!  The monument is correct in that Wallace led the Scots army at this battle, however it is erroneous in that this ignores the other leader that day, indeed the man who may well have been responsible for the tactics used, one Andrew de Moray!   At Stirling Bridge on the 11th of September 1297 these two men led their victorious troops to a crushing defeat of the imperialist English invaders!  Let us now stop for a moment to cheer wildly with delight!  Wallace is given credit for this glorious defeat of the thuggish English host but Moray is often forgotten, possibly this results from his dying from injuries received during the fight, he led from the front!  To forget such a man is sad indeed and moves are now afoot to place his name on record for his part in opposing brutal English domineering rule.

The Morays of Petty originate in the north of Scotland.  This was a troublesome district and King David I eventually pacified the locals after stiff resistance.  However the lack of resources, many leading Knights were killed during these battles, led him to seek suitable men to control the often violent locals.  One such man was a Flemish nobleman called Freskin, he built Duffus Castle on the coast of North East Scotland, near what is now RAF Lossimouth.  This remained a fiercely independent district for many years until the middle of the 13th century.  He also begat the Morays!

At the unexpected death of King Alexander III in 1286 Scotland was left with no monarch.  The popular King had been predeceased by the children from his first marriage and on a dark and stormy night, all alone on horseback eager to see his young wife, he was on his way to his home in Burntisland, Fife.  He never arrived.  He fell over the cliff in the dark and died alone.  The heir was his three year old granddaughter Margaret, the Maid of Norway.  Sadly she perished at sea crossing to take the throne of Scotland.  The political scene was then set for the intervention of the violent imperialist Edward I, King of England!  The noble Scots barons were more than keen to place one of their own on the throne, usually themselves, and as Edward had been on good terms with the wise Alexander who's first wife had been Edwards sister and at that moment relationships with Edward were good he was asked his opinion.  He accepted this opportunity with alacrity, on the condition that whoever was selected must also accept his overlordship. What a devious greedy man he was!  The choice was between John Balliol or Robert the Bruce, grandfather of the later King.  Edward chose Balliol, probably because he was the weaker of the two, and Balliol immediately bowed the knee to Edward confessing him as his overlord! The Toom Tabard he!!!

The grasping English imperialist poured his men into all the important aspects of Scots society, unwanted and unwelcomed.  Their influence in finance, church and law was so pernicious that even John Balliol had enough.  Eddie wasnie pleased ken like?  It did not take long for Scots to take action.  Andrew de Moray joined with several other nobles and made for Carlisle Castle, wreaking havoc around the area.  They however failed to take the Castle itself, the door being shut against them by one Robert de Brus and his son Robert, the future King.  Bruce's lands lay over the Solway Firth in the south west of Scotland and the intricacies of politics were playing their part.  The choice of Balliol must have hurt and Bruce played a long game here.  Both father and son had sworn fealty to Edward and joined the malefactors army as it destroyed Berwick on Tweed, then Scotland's richest city.  Here Edwards men spent three days of murder and rapine as they destroyed both the town and the 15,000 souls within.  Where were the Americans then eh? Shortly after this, near Dunbar, a Scots army was routed by the Earl of Surrey, John de Warenne, leaving 8000 dead they say.  The brutal repression of a free people quickly saw King John Balliol captured and imprisoned in the south, Scots nobles bending their knees, but not their hearts and many men, including Andrew Moray imprisoned.  Moray was kept in Chester Castle but somehow he escaped, possibly by ransom or bribing Hugh de Lacey the warden, and made his way home to the north, he was a determined man and his imprisonment may have encouraged his zeal.

After his victory Edward had placed his men in all the important posts and castles.  Sir Hugh de Cressingham became head of the treasury administration in Scotland charged with tax collection. Like all Englishmen he began to tax Scots beyond what they could pay, George Osborne reads this bit daily, and he and his men lined their own pockets as well as the treasuries.  The brutal repression, taxation and then the attempt to force men into Edwards army led to stiff resistance once again.  Throughout Scotland people rose up opposing the foul treatment of the oppressor. Many joining Moray up at, er Moray, in 1297 where he had regained control of his lands and began retrieving the rest of the north.  Andrew Moray began his freedom fight at the same time as Sir William Wallace, a John Balliol loyalist, was wreaking havoc on the invader in the south west.  Wallace disposed of the English High Sherriff, William de Heselrig, at Lanark, before attacking Scone and continuing a guerrilla war against the invader.   Other nobles, Robert Bruce amongst them, rose also seeking their fortune in this war.  (It is notable Bruce, who ranked higher than Wallace did not work with him.)  While the English empire builder was building an army to invade Flanders and steal their land, he had already forced the Welsh to bow before him, he found his attention distracted by serious trouble across the border.  The men he sent to put this down, often Scots he had imprisoned, failed miserably as they decided to join the rising. Englishmen who attempted to intervene did so at the cost of their heads, whoopee!    

Edward was peeved and he demanded that The Earl of Surrey,  John de Warenne, take action. De Warenne had led the Kings armies at Berwick and Dunbar but he had remained in the north of England rather than Scotland complaining the weather was too cold and harmful to his health for him to reside there.  He has a point!  His sloth allowed the hero's of the story to gather support throughout the land, the whole nation apart from one or two small English held places was now in uproar.  The invaders could not travel in safety, their friends less so, and at the approach of the Surrey's army Moray and Wallace joined their forces together at Stirling to deal with the malcontent English.

 Scots History

The battle was a short and cruel one.  Badly led by the Earl of Surrey, with reinforcements turned back long before they had arrived because Cressingham, in joint command, considered them too expensive and unnecessary, and with the first troops ordered over the bridge called back as the Earl was still asleep and his belief that he was once again facing an untrained rabble the day was set.  The suggestion of sending cavalry round the flank was rejected, on cost grounds by Hugh Cressingham, as he felt this may somehow prolong the war!   He did however lead the Knights himself as they crossed the small wooden bridge two abreast.  The Scots, now a trained and disciplined army, watched from above or hidden in the woods.  Once the commanders thought sufficient Knights and infantry had crossed the bridge the Scots spearmen, until then hidden from view, took up position blocking the access to the bridge.  The narrowness of the bridge and the by now fast flowing River Forth meant the crossing was under Scots control.  Cut off from the vast array on the other side this portion of the English invading army was doomed.  The ground here was boggy and a narrow wooden causeway, with bog and rocky ground on either side took away the Knights advantages.  Vengeance was taken for Dunbar and Berwick and for those many prisoners dying in captivity.  Around 100 Knights including Cressingham died, falling from his horse as it turned while attempting to fight his way back across the bridge, his associate Sir Marmaduke Tweng did manage to push through the defenders along with a handful of others while Cressinghams squire swam the river, others attempting this drowned.  Along with the Knights some five thousand English and Welsh footsoldiers were destroyed that afternoon.  In panic the English destroyed the bridge from their side and as their army began to fade away left the field.  The Scots army, mostly a peasant army, had some loss also, around 1500 with Andrew Moray leading from the front the most important amongst them.  It is likely he being a trained soldier was responsible for the tactics used this day yet his name is sadly forgotten.  A angry Sir William Wallace then had Cressinghams body flayed and the skin divided into portions and sent to every church door in the land.  This man was indeed hated in Scotland for his greed and corruption.
The Earl of Surrey saw his army falter around him and returned from whence he came.  He led from the front, the front of the retreat and Marmaduke Tweng said he ran so hard his horse 'never ate corn again!'  His opinion of the Earl was clear.  Edward I, known as 'Longshanks,' as he was much taller than most of his time, continued the absurd belief held by Englishmen even today that Scotland belongs to them.  The idea that this nation is 'North Britain,' is constantly found in the pages of the 'Daily Mail,' where those comfortably off types in the south east corner demand obescience from those north of Watford!  The imperialist wars continued until Edward died at Carlisle in 1307.  Having been traitorously handed over to the English King, William Wallace had been murdered at Smithfield in 1305.  His cause did not die with him.  Robert the Bruce fought his way to become leader of the Scots nation and in 1314 at Bannockburn, not far from Stirling, he once again savaged the English Edward II and 'sent him home to think again.'  

Two letters, dated October and November, sent to towns in the Hanseatic League are addressed as from "Andrew de Moray and William Wallace, leaders of the army of the realm of Scotland," both indicating Moray lived at least until November of 1297.  It may be Wallace had to use both names because of aristocratic jealousies, the Bruce's determination to gain ground, for instance. We sadly know so little of this man Moray who was important not just to William Wallace but to Scotland as a whole.  Soon a new memorial will stand at Stirling to commemorate his glorious achievement.  No doubt others will follow elsewhere, but hopefully not a Mel Gibson film!

Andrew de Moray  William Wallace  John Balliol  King Alexander III  Scottish History  

Toom Tabard  Robert the Bruce

Edward I (Longshanks)  Hugh de Cressingham  John de Warenne, 6th Earl of Surrey 

Sir Marmaduke Tweng

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If you didn't like the music.....

...you might like this one!

The music is worse mind!

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Sunday Night Music

Mississippi Fred McDowall

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A Bit of Fun

A charity concerned with Dementia care arranged a 'fun day' in the town today. The idea being to collect money from various stalls and activities plus inform the town about a growing problem amongst us these days.  I suppose dementia has always been here but we just referred to it as old folks going 'Gag,' or possibly it is because we live longer these days and it is more of a problem. With this in mind I was in the museum on hand in case things got busy.  Pah! Not busy enough, the schools returning and holidays passed folks are returning to normal and kids are not being taken to places that cost.  There was a trickle of people, a Melbourne couple whom we had a laugh (why do Aussies use such strange words?), a local seeking ways to entertain his visitors which led to a discussion about railways and my giving him what turned out to be incorrect information, a couple from land unknown who tried to pass a forign coin off on us, Pth! One ageing somewhat confused lass turned up struggling to find the entrance to the Cafe set up by the Dementia people.  This was at the far end of the building right in front of her! I carefully carried her thence!  Why do the young ones not throw themselves at me like the old ones do I ask? There were a few others looking I happily showed one young woman around our new photographic exhibition of old Braintree pictures.  She ought to pay but I let her have a quick look as being with a bored half asleep child I thought she needed some intellectual stimulus, from the pics that is, not me!  

Lovely old cameras on show to match the ages covered by the pictures.  Simply by casually mentioning to each woman who looked round the exhibition that she was 'too young' to remember what was pictured I made one or two folks day.  This always appears to have the same response. Often I take them by the hand and welcome them and ask if they have brought their father for a look round the museum, the girls are always pleased by this their menfolk however never appear to be quite so happy, often appearing to be choking somewhat.   

In the market music was being used to entertain the shoppers. While the folks in the pub, right next to the band, were happy about this enquiries at the fruit and veg stall immediately to the right of the picture gave a somewhat less eager response.  Not quite sure what the emotions were as it is difficult to express words when the teeth are grinding together.  Sadly the attempt to picture the three dolts  people on horse costumes did not quite work out.  The nearby Tombola Stall cost me a pound and the ten year old running it was very sympathetic, grumbling she had been unable to give away any prizes so far. I've seen Lotteries run that way I almost but didn't say.

Amongst the stalls in the centre Belly Dancers were on offer.  By 'on offer I mean the girls were belly dancing, I don't mean they were on offer on a stall or anything, please don't misunderstand as I did as you get some very frosty looks. Few Sheikhs live this way as far as I know so where this idea came from I know not, but it was pleasing exercise judging by the audience response. The three appeared to be happy in their work although it was slowing down by the time muggins arrived.  The view from the rear was appreciated more than that from the front it appeared to me.  

All this under typical September wind, rain and sunshine weather.  The weather held for the most part but did force some folks into the museum and paying customers are always welcomed, even if they are concessions!  

   

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Things upon which to Cogitate

Scotch Whisky Guide

Fifty Scots Words  

A must read for intellectuals.

Blind man drives car in town!

Fifty Shades of Gray dumped in Charity Shops everywhere.

So many being dumped the shops canny get rid of them!

It's Dan Brown all over again!

Thankful Villages

The small villages who received back the men who marched to the Great War and received all their boys back once again were called 'Thankful Villages.'  There were few indeed of these.  At the time this report was written, 2011, only 52 such villages could be found in England and Wales.  

No such village was discovered in Scotland or Ireland.

Near me lies a small village with a population of 402 in 1895.  

During the Great War some 32 men died in action,

rather more typical of the time.

Yorkie Dialect

To stop Soub from greetin I add the Yorkshire version

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Look to the Future!

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Pigeon in Mist

Misty morning indicating September is around.  Hot, close, sunny afternoon and evening. Darkness closing in by eight, tiredness closing in by seven!  The pigeons often sit on the roof or anywhere high up after breakfast.  Usually they are just warming up or keeping an eye out for where others are roosting.  In the mist I suspect matey here was just attempting to find his way about.  Mist does enhance a photo, even though it may chill the fingers while taking the picture.

The bug has worn me out in recent days once again, not helped by the disruption to my routine by being at the museum.  By the time I get home and sort myself out I am way out of sorts. Today is spent putting things right, finishing the item I was writing (didn't) and cleaning the windows (didn't), cooking ratatouille (did), and any other thing needed if I can be bothered...  

Life here is no more exciting than that of the pigeon outside.....

Go Away, I'm Tired...

Plognark

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Have a Laugh

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Sunday Snigger

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More Yanks!

Wade

As I began my second breakfast earlier this morning Julie rang in the usual panic from the Museum. Encouragingly all the volunteers are falling like flies, the plague is removing them steadily and my bulk was required.  Just as well I was around as there was only she and I to deal with the visitors.  The usual crowd of eager kids passed through, one or two enquiries, and another party of Yanks.  Julie is the woman running the shop, arranging workshops and chatting to people, she is not the woman to answer historical questions.  I am not sure if she knows who won the war, I would enquire but she might ask "Who came second?"  So she dumps such things on me to seek information.  Luckily I read about the 'Lyon,' a wee while ago and luckily once again we had a descendant of one who sailed from here, this time in 1640.  A glance at the wee blue book revealed a man with the right name and this couple were delighted to find information re their man.  That made my day!   Apparently he has been doing the web search thing and was delighted to be here in this backwater.  All his life, well much of his adult life, he has wondered about the area his kin came from, now he can go home, with a bag full of books, and send years reading about them.  

We get two kinds of Yanks.  The type seeking their ancestors, it appears around eight million descend from the puritans who sailed away from here on those boats, nothing else to do I suppose, or the type who once occupied the many airfields around here, and are now returning the wife they bought then!  

 UST

President Obama, the man that made the USA acceptable after the insane years of George W Bush, has taken on the mantle handed down to him by the position the USA finds itself in as the 'major power.'  Major Powers have been here before.  They may not have had nuclear weapons, submarines or aircraft, but the need to patrol the world and get involved everywhere for reasons of 'self defence' or 'strategic interests,' does not vary.  On occasion this can lead to destruction. Had the major Empires refused to act after the Archduke was shot in 1914 the war may never have happened, the world would be a different place and the empires might exist yet.  Obama insists that for moral reasons the USA must send missiles (pronounced 'missiles) into a foreign power.  Since Thursday when we knew some 250 deaths has occurred the USA have managed to get their friends in the media to believe that in fact well over a thousand have died this way, yet still without offering proof.  Evidence that would stand up in court has not been shown, the main question being if such weapons are in use, who uses them?  We know Assad has the capability, so does the CIA!  We also know the Turks have found Al Queda with Sarin in their border, and they were none too pleased about this.  There is no doubt some vile happening occur in Syria but the rule of thumb in the middle east is it's not 'who is the good guy, both are bad!' 

We cannot avoid the terrible things done here, but who started this conflict?  Rebels fighting Assad, pad for bu Sunni Saudi and Quater.  Who backs them?  Us and UK etc.  Why did this begin?  To get at Iran through the back door and we care nought for the Arabs that die!  No wonder young Muslims are confused!  Why demand action when Chemical Weapons are used yet no action when 100,000 die from 'normal' weapons?  Why worry about Syria when thousand sare dying in Darfur and we have forgotten that war.  30,000 have crossed into Chad recently but little is said on the news here, why?  

I am chortling at the thought that America's 'oldest ally,' France, the home of the cheese eating surrender monkeys, is now the most important part of the US allies, even though they don't want your films because they are not in French.  The willing President Hollande, who has a lower popularity rating than Cameron, is now offering his men to the Americans.  Jolly good show old bean!  He will not go himself obviously, one of his concubines might want him.  The 'special relationship' that the media hark on about, that only existed between Roosevelt and Churchill, and then Roosevelt dumped him for Stalin, has never been that important.  Britain's place in the world is not lessened by France become the er, poodle of the US, the opposite in fact.  The UK can hold its head high.  Something the dogs ensure you cannot do on Paris streets I am informed.

Another Saturday, this meant rushing from the museum to get home in time to watch Dundee United v Celtic.  Gladly I watched this as the stream I picked up had no commentators, once someone pushed the pug in and Ian (I support the OF) Crocker began to spout I considered the game less worthy.  At three I lay on my bed listening to the Heart of Midlothian playing up at Inverness, as always making a worthy attempt against a team top of the league.  We lost but I am not downhearted.  Now I am choosing to watch Mother well v Killie or maybe the Aberdeen v St Johnstone game, all this in a days work. 

Whither Now Mush?

Incredible shock!  Parliament stood up for the nation last night and blew away the Tony Blair fantasist's plans.  Slapped down by a number of his own men as well as the opposition David Cameron failed to get the House to agree to go to war, some say this has not happened to a Prime Minister since 1792!  On that occasion it ended the war against American independence, so it is somewhat ironic that Cameron has failed to be poodle to the USA.  While few at this moment are intriguing against him, their are few alternatives making noises as yet, clearly a PM who cannot convince his party that his intentions were correct is seriously weakened.  Lets face it, we are all pleased about this are we not?   Interestingly the newspapers, including the 'Daily Mail,' screamed about his failure, also quite interestingly I noted 'The Sun' headline was 'Douglas confesses affair,' instead.  Rupert doing his best for his man.  Rupert known for his loyalty to his staff.

What now for Cameron?

The fall out for this decision is also quite interesting.  While the majority of the British public acknowledge their members of parliament, congratulating them on their victory, the USA has been somewhat put out.  When you have been used to working with the UK for so many years, and since Thatchers infatuation with the dementia ridden Reagan the US has looked on the UK as a mere puppet, it is quite difficult to accept the poodle has changed its mind.  The reaction from Washington reveals the intention to attack come what may has been in their minds for many years, and the reason is clear.  Iran threatens Israel, the US does whatever Israel wishes, so Iran must be dealt with.  Now I support Israel also, but not when they do wrong, and Iran under the Mullahs may well be dangerous, but other nations with nuclear missiles are also dangerous, Pakistan for instance.  The desire to attack Syria comes from the attempt to weaken Iran.  A dangerous ploy as this could set the whole region ablaze, and the US, with aid from the cheese eating surrender monkeys, will continue their build up to kill more Arabs, it doesn't matter which, and the type of situation we have seen since the late seventies will continue.

I could go on, I won't but sadly this situation will.  

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Troubled Thursday

How sad to see the tree surgeons in the park again today.  The powers that be have been around checking the state of the trees that have dwelt here for over a hundred and what years.  The report was not good.  Several have become diseased and have to be removed.  Sadly these are amongst the best of the trees.  Whoever planned the gardens in the eighteen somethings really have a good eye for the future.  The trees he planted have survived the family, the school that later occupied the building, two wars, droughts and have now succumbed to disease.  Nothing to do but stand clear as the chap way up top drops the branches to the ground and await the new saplings that hopefully will be planted to replace the fallen.  

Yes the debate continues as we speak, although the outcome has been predetermined by arrangement between the leading men.  The arguments have been put forward on all sides, the members who wish the leaders of their party to notice them ensuring they say exactly what the leaders wish them to say, the 'mavericks,' making sure the leaders on all sides hear their point of view also.  It matters not.  The decision to bomb to Assad to stop him using his chemical weapons (a phrase used repeatedly by Cameron et al to ensure you heard) has already been taken long, long ago of course.  The plans are laid, RAF jets have moved to Cyprus, once again doing the hard work F16's can't manage, and concern for the 250 or so dead in the recent outrage fills the governing classes.  As people in Damascus point out "did they not care for the 100,000 already dead then?"  

Two links worth reading, from one of the UK's better journalists.

Alex Thomson  Alex Thomson 2

Troubled days.  Not only are we heading for a long Iraq 2 but the trees in the park are failing.  On top of this I see people known to me via the media all my life dying off, Cliff Morgan the Welsh sportsman died the other day, aged 83.  The shortness of life suddenly clings and I have not done what I wish I had done.  So many things to change for the better, so many things wrong.  I happened to look at a nearby town on Google Maps the other day and found myself on the road at the edge of town.  The fields spread away into the distance and the view from the neat rows of bungalows would be most enjoyable, had they not all placed net curtains at them!  What do they do this for?  It struck me most of these were retired folks and I realised many of them were just waiting to die, slowly and possibly alone, but many with no purpose any more.  It all seemed so sad as it doesn't have to be like that!  No doubt many are happy enough and Syria does not bother them much.  It will when Cameron taxes their pension to pay for the Tornados and Typhoons he is sending to Syria.

Still, there is yet another football match, tucked away of ITV4 tonight, and having that in the background keeps life ticking over.   

This strange looking (eastern europe maybe) car was in the car park today.  No idea what is was and he appears to be having trouble winding up the rubber band.  I thought at first it was a 'trabant,' but those tough little cars were modelled on old Fiats.  This is a new one on me, but as noisy, though less smokey, than any Trabant I have come across.  I would have spoken to him but he might have wanted a push, so I went for breakfast instead.

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Syria

Here we go.Iraq 2 about to start.  This time we will see something very different.  This time we will suffer badly.  For several years the US has led the 'allies' in undermining the Syrian regime, and whistleblowers around the world have helped us to realise just how much of this activity has been going on for the past few years.  Now our war mongering prime minister, with little realisation of his deeds, and considerably less understanding of the Middle East, wants to become Tony Blair 2 and play puppy dog to the US.

He has no idea what he is doing, does Obama?  Who is leading this attempt to destabilise Syria just to weaken Iran, the US?  The military machine?  Israel?  One thing is clear the debate in the House of Commons tomorrow is already decided, party managers have seen to this, and our depleted forces will be used to do someones bidding, but who's?  For what?  No-one knows.

Chemical weapons?  Call them WMD and you know where you stand. 

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Her Privates We, Frederick Manning

Normally I am not one for novels.  Story books tend to find themselves flung out the door quickly while I look for something worthwhile.  With regard to the Great War I find a great many people writing novels depicting, they say, the situation one man or more went through.  I dismiss them myself.  However when a man who has served in the trenches writes of the war I am more inclined to hear what he has to say and see his description of his war.  The men who served are the men to listen to!  Frederick Manning spent months on the Somme with the 7th Kings Shropshire Light Infantry, a 'Kitchener Battalion,' and claims all the situations recorded in his book occurred to someone, often he himself.   

Manning was born in Australia in 1882 and moved to Lincolnshire in 1903 to live with a family friend who had become vicar at Edenham.  Here he read widely in classics, studied philosophy, and produced a book, 'The Virgil of Brunhild,' others followed but while literary circles admired his writing mass circulation was not to be expected.  In spite of his asthma Manning continued to smok to much, he also spent a lot of time in local public houses an exercise that would lead to troubled times in the future. 

His poor health did not stop him attempting to enlist in 1914.  In spite of London life, where he became regarded as a minor poet and literary critic mixing with some important people from that world, he shared the desire to join the army like so many others of his day.  He was rejected several times until in October 1915 he was accepted by the Shropshires, numbered private 19022. His educated background led him to being selected for a commission, which he failed, he joined his regiment in France during 1916.  The 7th attacked Bazentin Ridge on the 14th of July, the wire was uncut and the second wave were hit by their own barrage, 200 men and 8 officers being lost.  Manning was promoted to lance corporal, possibly after this battle.  In November the battalion attacked the well defended Serre, on the Somme, another trying time. 

Manning received a commission in 1917 as a second lieutenant in the Royal Irish Regiment. This did not suit either he nor the British Army.  Being a bit of a loner, drinking heavily, and failing to adhere to the army way off life he soon found trouble with superiors.  His regard for the men as distinct from officers and his dislike of much military thinking and its effects on the 'poor bloody infantry,' increased his revulsion of much concerning army life.  The effects of trench life were said to be responsible for his drinking and attitude but the commission was resigned in 1918.  He had continued to write, poems, items in magazines and by 1923 Manning took a commission to write the life of Sir William White.  White had been a leading man in the admiralty late in the 19th century.  

Ten years after a war men's minds begin to demand they tell the world what they have endured. Life has, for most, returned to some sort of normality but the experiences have never healed, indeed they never do.  Manning was encouraged to write about his experiences and take advantage of the emotion of the day as books were beginning to fall off the shelves and typewriters were melting under the desperation to publish memoirs   He produced his work quite quickly and published in a limited number as 'The Middle Parts of Fortune.'  The introverted Manning takes the reader inside the hearts of men in battle, and quite unlike any other book we see something of the mind of a real everyday soldier.  The 'soldiers language' was considered too strong for the time and an expurgated version was published as, 'Her Privates We,' the title a quote from Shakespeare. 

Unlike many war books this one contains comparatively little war action even though it begins as an action is ending.  We read instead much of the emotions of a soldier in battle, the relationship of officers to men and vice versa at the time, the attitudes and responsibilities of NCO's, the men who really run an army, and as they withdraw out of the line the scene changes to the dull monotonous routine of army life.  This however is not the somewhat sentimental emotions seen is American movies, here we are confronted with the everyday man.  After the return from the line the men spend a few days settling their nerves, dwelling, without much exchange of confidences, on the stirred emotions within, helped, though they may not think it, by the routine of life.  The dead are an ever present reality for the soldier, one day he may join them. 

As is the way companies break down into two or three men getting together to make their life bearable.  The hero of the book, named Bourne after a small town Manning once stayed in, speaks French tolerably and is used by many to get help from local women regarding obtaining food and wine and having these prepared for them.  One causes Bourne much laughter when lady of the house misunderstands a soldiers use of the word, 'cushy.'  This was a common army word from the Hindi for 'comfortable.'  The woman instead hears 'coucher,' a word which has a differing meaning and results with her fetching the language ignorant solder a slap round the head.  Manning himself 'liked to drink,' as they say and soldiers often while away what is left of their lives in making merry. 'Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die,' means more to a soldier in such a war than it can ever mean to another.  

The action, if this is action, continues with Bourne posted to the orderly office. Here again the 'office politics' of army life is centre stage.  It isn't good. Nervous adjutants, greasy sergeant majors, and the strange feeling that a soldier prefers the real army with his pals rather than this 'cushy' number.  At least he avoids all those hard fatigues men at rest are lumbered with.  However army parades continue, seen as needless by many but insisted upon by an officer core with reasons of their own.  One such is interrupted by two shells which take out several men, much to the battalions disgust.  An aircraft is blamed but it soon becomes obvious that it is British shells falling short, a not uncommon occurrence.  Men sent on raids or to the line on fatigues when to all minds such is not possible is made worse when casualties, often popular officers, are injured.  The regiment returns to the line and Bourne and his mates act as runners, suffering the delight of a German bombardment while doing so.  Again this is used to describe both Bournes reaction and that of his companions.  They then return to prepare for yet another chance to go 'over the top.'

What we read in these glimpses of army life is not so much the action but the reality seen from deep within the authors mind.  The mist or fog is described almost as if it is alive, the countryside, even in the dark, allows us to know that men in war are touched by their surroundings like everyone else.  We also note the attitudes in the towns behind the lines, and the class difference that results in unfair treatment of the men. This impersonal, dangerous army, becomes a family for the men, a man once part of a regiment, sharing the dangers, has a kinship, a clan, that outsiders can never enter.  Indeed many men today with more recent experience of warfare understand Bournes mind and recognise their thoughts and emotions as identical to the men of 1916.   Some form close bonds, but many avoid this as men disappear without trace and never heard of again as injury, death or confusion reign in war. Frederick Manning attempts to tell the inner soldier, himself, while contemplating the men around him.  He seeks their unspoken thoughts, he describes their unsaid words, he reveals men as they are.  War books are often full of dangerous action, sometimes sugary, sometimes unbelievable.  This one is the real deal. War is impersonal, men go 'over the top' together but fight alone.  Men work as a unit, for one another, but fight and die individually.  

This is the best book on the war I have ever read!  It does not give all those little details we often seek, but provides sufficient to understand the sights and sounds, the pleasures and daily trials of army routine for the common soldier. Instead in the midst of a great conflict we see the individual whose name appears on the local, unnoticed, war memorial.  On each memorial is a Bourne, a Martlow his young friend, or his pal Shem the Jew, there we find the many sergeants and officers who ordered their lives and led them to destruction.   

This is a great book!  This book gives us the men and their hearts as it really was during their time on the Somme.  

Wiki