Hooked!

Watson

I'm hooked!  Every so often a game will cause me to lose days.  The Block Game is doing it today. I had this in times past but it refused to work on Windows 7. However once I increased the memory I went searching for it and discovered it worked.  The problem is I start and cannot finish, unless I make a mistake and look away and the thing falls over itself.  

This is not new, I have found a variety of simple kids games that keep me 'entertained' for days, sometimes weeks.  The 123 Solitaire game of course is always around, but there was a snooker game I once had (or was it Billiards?) that for a period filled hours that ought to have been wasted doing something useful, like eating, sleeping or washing!  

The 'Bouncing Balls' game is also a dumb simple game that is aimed at kids yet I can spend days playing the thing!  Usually I play such games while watching TV or even the football when it gets a bit rubbish!  This keeps my fingers busy as they get fidgety if I am not typing something.  My fingers do not like sitting around and if my mind fails to invent words to write they get very annoyed, these games fill that void. 

I am not one for the larger games that feature car chases, overcoming obstacles to reach an end but my ageing sister has developed a hunger for such as these. Her grandchildren demanded the 'X-Boxes' or 'Wii's' or whatever they use and as they grew older new ones arrived, gran found these dumped on her. Both she and her man waste time struggling through obstacles when in times past folks their age would have been sitting on rocking chairs smoking pipes and knitting. Not quite sure who would be dong which mind.  They say such games keeps the mind active, so does reading a book I say but that is too much for them.  

I will stick to simple games that suit my simple mind, brain stuff is not for me.

123

Building Site

Now you may think this a boring and unusual picture, me, myself and I were shocked by what I saw!  I wandered down this way yesterday happily enjoying the blinding sunshine when I looked to my left and gasped.  Just the other day I came down here and to the left stood a twenty foot high heap of earth dumped by builders working over the other side.  I queried whether they intended building a mountain rather than houses and received a not very encouraging response. Now there exists this complex of flats growing from nothing!  Growing indeed next to the stream they refer to here as a river.  Note they are building next to the stream!  This wee river in times past would burst its banks, and the museum has pictures to prove it, however some attempt at control has been made in the last hundred years, nevertheless recent events such as the flooding of Somerset ought to waken people up to the idea that some thought needs to be put into where houses are built.  I was more annoyed that so many perfectly good trees were removed to allow the building. Round this area dozens of trees have been chopped yet as far as I can see no replacements have been planted. Strange to prefer trees to needed homes but some care re trees is required, we need them also.
For a while, until the economic meltdown, every small open space would disappear and half a dozen houses would appear the next day.  This has slackened somewhat but several areas have continued to build, this spot is one of them.  Houses planned in the past have risen and annoyed the postmen who find another hundred drops added to their loads.  The way mail works here the streets get added on and the postman just has to do it, unless he goes mad and screams the place down.  The last 'walk' I was doing had about eighty houses added not long after I left.  The postie's opinion is not worth repeating here. Now we are informed by the government that recovery is under way (?) we can expect a resurgence in such activities.  Especially by friends of the government, an election is in the offing ....... 

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The Folk Next Door.

The high quality block in which I dwell has only one real problem, the folks next door!  By that I do not infer the folks next door are a problem, I mean the fact that someone is next door is a problem!  Only two of the six flats here actually connect with me in a real way, the others are situated so that I am not really disturbed by them.  Now we face a dangerous and problematic time, that is the actual folks next door have left and this means we must await replacements. The question is what will they, he, or even worse she, be like?  

Nowadays the landlord whom I have known for twenty years gets local agents to do most of the paperwork for new tenants, he himself being in his seventies he spends his time in his Rolls Royce or travelling the world to find warm places.  His mind is always on the houses mind, and he has hundreds of them! His staff of two lovely young ladies and two ageing fast handymen, 'bodgers' as they are known and excellent men and I get along with them well enough.  Also my rent increases every couple of years or so rather than steeply every year. The empty flat next door will no doubt see an increase on the price charged but what that price may be I can only guess.  

The tenant get along reasonably well.  Not too much noise, unless the old girl gets drunk and brings out the romantic music records, and the man downstairs makes almost no noise at all in spite because I make noise by generally living life.  The problem is that while we can ll get on what will the new tenant be like?  Consider this, who can afford to rent these days?  Who can afford to buy? Either way who can guarantee having a job tomorrow to pay for it?  Banks, including those this government has a hold over by shovelling cash into them do not wish to lend either to housebuyers or businesses.  They can however give huge bonuses to those at the top!  The Co-op Bank has a loss of £1.5 Billion yet the new boss has been awarded £3.5 million in wages and shares. Very Co-operative that!  Therefore a young couple (and we don't want any of them here) must rent, and the money spent on rent reduces the savings made for a house.  For me the housebuying thing is a Thatcherite problem she demanded everyone buys a house with little thought to the needs of the people or the problems involved.  Her rich friends of course went along with this, and profited greatly.  She sold off all the council homes, homes built after the war to house homeless people.  Today we are building 'social housing,' which is the same thing but councils do not run them, private organisations do.  There are not nearly enough.  Add to this the weakening of marriage, easy divorce, kids living together and females getting priority over males simply by being pregnant and homelessness grows.  

What I mean by this is that the likelihood of a suitable male or even female tenant being able to afford the rent is rare.  If they apply for Housing Benefit, something pensioners and others can receive, they may be able to move in.  So far two young girls and two probably suitable males have turned it down, clearly the cost is too much.  This increases the chances of a young couple arriving and splitting the costs, if they have jobs.  With them comes what all young folks have, noise, parties, hassles, rows, babies.  Not that I am one to complain but if people want to have fun they need not come here!  The last couple were working, well he was, and both were about 21 years old.  Once indoors they were OK but there were constant faults found with the building, OK she fell through the rotten wood in the kitchen I'll give you that, twice actually, but there was an inability to keep the shared stairs clean, though spreading muck was easy for them and general human attitudes were missing, caused by age.  

Mind you one or two elder statesmen we have had here have not stayed long, I suppose the police knocking on your door at six in the morning might hasten your removal, and drink does make some folks a bit oblivious of their duties. Overall the crumbling somewhat stinky building has its benefits. Everything is near, the view is tolerable, mostly we live amicably, and the landlord is OK and repairs, when required, get done eventually, even the window man might turn up soon.  However we live on tenterhooks awaiting the newcomers, this could of course take six months. I care not who moves in as long as they are quiet and get on with everyone, the days of suffering loud noisy folks are passed for those of us here now.       

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Spring is in the Air.

I am beginning to believe that Spring may actually be on the horizon.  Yet another day in which the sun shone and blue sky appeared overhead.  The kids football this afternoon took place in the sun with the wind bringing warm air instead of the usual chilly stuff.  People were seen

wandering about like Englishmen do in the sun, tee shirts and dark glasses, carrying drinks bottles and driving cars with the hoods down.  Actually they were doing this yesterday also but the wind was chilly and they were so busy being macho they did not notice.  I expect the horrid sight of men in shorts, fat men and unsuitable fashions, to appear soon.  

  

This weekend saw cup ties in both Scotland and England.  The fantastic benefit of televised games, once frowned up by the authorities, allowed me the dubious pleasure of watching well wrapped up highlanders in Inverness enjoying the rain and a five nil drubbing, all of which was their own fault, by Dundee United. I followed this with the first half of Hull City v Sunderland in the sunshine. Once again England keeps the sun while Scots get rain, it's a disgrace!  i got fed up with the quality of the 'best league in the world,' (@English media) as I was falling asleep so I went out on the bike for half an hour.  How nice to trundle around in warm air.  How nice to discover life was worth while once again. Life appeared even better when I discovered the second half of the football was on the one hour delayed transmission site, and joy abounded when I saw Rangers were losing to little broke Albion Rovers.  Joy was disturbed when later it was found that Rangers had equalised by scoring a goal with a BLATANT FOUL! Here we see the power of the club.  Had that happened anywhere else a foul would have been given, but with the ref afraid to be hammered by the authorities pro-Rangers bias he put his job before the foul and stole the glory from one of the smallest sides in the nation.  Disgraceful!  I expect however the Glasgow media will not see this that way.

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Waiting, Still Waiting....

Yesterday I woke early and spent time making space round the windows as the carpenter was to come and measure up the frames for replacing.  Everything was moved, and this meant clearing my desk of all the piles of baggage and dumping them somewhere safe.  The windows were sort of cleaned up, left open to allow air to circulate, and then I waited.

Shortly after his agreed time he called to say he could not find the house.  I discovered he was at the 'edge of town,' so I gave directions and informed the hero I would be waiting at the door.  I then went downstairs and waited.  

Now remember I live on 'Stane Street.'  This one time muddy track was hardened by the Romans to ease troop movements from their capital Camulodunum.  The road is therefore more or less straight for fifteen or so miles and if he was at the 'edge of town' he would be here in three or four minutes.  

He wasn't!  

After half an hour or so, in which I took a broom and cleaned up the front to avoid the glare of passing motorists and in the process discovered just how unfit I am (gasp) I gave up.  Possibly the poor man was not on this road and had entered by another means, possibly he was in another town, possibly he was facing in the wrong direction and headed into Camulodunum itself?   I might never know.  He might still be driving around for all I know!

That escapade wasted my whole morning leaving me today in a dwelling turned almost upside down and with much to do.  Naturally I realised I must take action here, so I fell asleep.  After this I got myself round to writing the leaflets for the museum, or in my case stealing making use of museum stuff I found online.  I am attempting to collect a handout for those visitors who ask questions and find the girls at the desk have no answers for them, they tend to be there just for the shop.  Whether it comes to anything we must wait and see but it is fun scribbling all this stuff even if no-one likes it.  

The freezing cold yesterday, on a very sunny day, has left me chilled and wheezing now.  I told you I was ill!  This means I cannot be bothered investigating the nonsense found in today's news. However I must ask why are we having almost live coverage of that South African murder trial? What is it about this weird athlete that makes it so important?  This country has a fine heritage of madmen, psychopaths, murderers and the like why do we need to suffer blanket coverage of a South African one?  Can it be more important than the Ukraine situation, the five million killed in the last thirty years in the 'Democratic Congo,' or any other war, disaster, tragedy or local murder nearer home?  I find this all very strange I must say.

Not quite as strange as yet another day of police corruption and mishandling of a murder inquiry arises. The Lawrence murder of twenty one years ago still brings accusations of police criminality as we hear of smear campaigns against the family, police connections to one of the accused, files withheld from previous inquiries and who know what to be uncovered now.  Some ageing policemen will be seeking refuge in Russia before long methinks.

Each day however I note that the Westminster governments desperation regarding Scotland's coming independence produces more and more propaganda.  Each time it gets more absurd than before.  The other day another oil company chief, not based in the UK, claimed Scotland should stay in the UK, even though that was not quite what he said and he cares only for his business money anyhow.  Then it was the Banks will have to move to London if Scotland is independent.  no one claims how much that will cost these banks.  Each day a lie is published in the London based media and soon I expect to read the Loch Ness monster will move to an English lake if Scotland chooses independence, Haggis will be taxed, Scots air is actually English and rain will not fall on Scotland after independence!  The last bit sounds quite good.  All part of the English governments attempt to keep Scotland paying for tax breaks for the rich in the south east of England!  

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Zonked.....

So here is a picture of Cowdenbeath.....

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Now I'm not one to complain but....

Why I ask, when something works perfectly well, do we need some cretinous minded lout coming along and 'improving things?'  The BBC website is one such example.  Having moved into new Manchester, sorry, Salford, studios it has been decided to 'upgrade' the excellent BBC website in keeping with the new layout in Salford and BBC London.  This means the football pages are full of white space and absurd yellow banners, meaningless unrelated content is pinned for weeks where it is not wanted and required content is not always easy to find.  The 'upgrade' to the BBC iPlayer has gone the same way. The screen above is the 'simple' layout some fourteen year old geek has offered us, and as you will expect it does not quickly lead to the sought after item. WHY can 'designers' not design things to be simple enough for stupid people to operate rather than fancy enough for someone who will only admire the layout and not actually have to use it?

There now follows a few minutes quite as I lie on the floor chewing the ends of the rug.

When I got this laptop it came equipped with 'Windows 7,' while before I used 'XP.'  'XP' was excellent and gave me all I required, it also allowed me to use the 'Outlook' Mail service which is far better than 'Windows Live,' a system that fails to live up to its name!  However someone somewhere insisted on changing things, needlessly!  Bah!  

  
Google Maps have done this also!  The old system was perfect and I used this often.  Now the thing is not straight forward, lists appear at the side unwanted, the wee man will not land on the street chosen, the tools are useless, pictures arise from the bottom for no reason and 'my location' does not work yet the location is there on the absurd space taking list at the top left!   I click on the map to move it and the address, with picture, appears at the top left.  I don't want it!  If I want a picture I will ask for one! Just give me the map!  This is a needless and failing upgrade!  Go back to the old system Google!!!!


Now look, that rug is frayed at the edges.....

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Museum Folks

Happy Tour

As luck would have it one of the early visitors to the shop this morning was a chap from the Ukraine! He had brought an Italian friend in looking for London souvenirs.  Braintree ones would not mean a great deal back in Naples for some reason.  Interesting talking to him, a man who spoke very good English, better than the locals can, and understanding as a Scot can his opposition to a dangerous Russia with a mad leader threatening his nation.  His pride in not being Russian was clear!  This lucky man now has his wife and new child to care for and I suspect one day they will return home to the Ukraine, but not yet! The situation there is indeed tense, and it has become clear there have been bad boys on both sides, and as is the way in those far flung regions few politicians are to be trusted. Talking of untrustworthy politicians I note David Cameron has been talking tough yet has plans made to do absolutely nothing when the balloon goes up.  It is one thing to send jets into Libya or 'aid' to Syria but Mr Putin (is his first name 'Ras?') with his nuclear weapons, thousands of soldiers and big guns is a different matter.  As it is if we do anything the gas will either be turned off or trebled in price and only Mr Gas Chairman wishes for that!  

VinMag

The day began by discovering the place was not yet opened up properly.  Lights were off, TV's off, and no money yet in the till!  This was sad as the first visitor was awaiting entrance.  However she was keen to talk, so keen that once the money had been placed in the till, lights and TV's on it took me fifteen minutes to get her actually into the museum proper.  Even then she talked as I attempted to log the photo machine on.  A real nice woman with interesting things to say, the kind we need to have visit, but I could not get things done.  I had to dump her suddenly as another lass appeared ready to spend money, that could not be allowed to wait.

This woman had a relative who worked for Courtaulds' for many years, beginning by 'knocking up' workers early in the morning for one shilling and sixpence a week, good money at the time for him.  It appears he spent his life there and enjoyed every minute so last week she bought one of our £20 books on the company.  There are three volumes in this history and today she returned for the other two! Lovely lady!  I sneaked a CD of talk into the bag free of charge, £2 in the sale, as it featured the voices of workers from all the towns past industries and fitted in with her purchase.  The relative will have a very happy Christmas this year!  I also told her last week to get him to write down his story, all he could remember, as this would be good history, and he is doing this!  I am looking forward to seeing his work.

All these one time industries died after the second world war.  Competition from Asia and elsewhere reduced their lifespan sadly.  These were highly industrial companies for the most part, elements of which survive, but the days men worked forty years in one company have long gone.  In the middle of the nineteenth century the mill employed around two thousand people, mostly women on five shillings a week, alone!  Being Unitarians they shared the social concerns of many and treated the workers well in spite of the wage.  They built schools, hospitals and churches in all the towns the operated, the churches were for many denominations also, and doctors and houses were also built.  They would not tolerate unions, such people were removed but they had a paternalistic approach as did many in their day and to some extent this lasted until the end.  What remains of the company appears to be based in Asia today.  

Other welcome and weary travellers passed through today, enjoying the offerings and spending cash in the shop.  How nice to see them and the cash! In today's world we need this as the money we obtain is dying out daily. Desperate measures are required to bring in sufficient resources just to keep

the museum running.  

Bocking Mill

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I've Pict a Good One.

Wiki

Just before the rain began earlier today I crossed the park and found myself tempted to sit on a bench and watch the clouds gather.  This was because it was so Spring like at the time.  The grass was bright green, a flock of wood pigeons happily chewed their afternoon supper ahead of me, the sun glinted on the rubbish the ignoramus's amongst us leave behind them and the few passersby almost smiled a greeting.  The bench however was bespattered with an earlier rain burst so I meandered on.   
I had to meander as earlier that day I had cleaned the house, dusted the bookshelves and even started again the exercise programme that usually lasts about three days.  The aches in my knees helped me meander slower than usual.  Little kiddies run by faces wreathed in smiles, jealousy makes me want to kick them!  I can remember a time when I happily ran, well actually when I think of it running was never my style!  How glad I was that I became a goalkeeper.  Those people who consider running ten miles in an hour and a half fun while being kicked all over the park are clearly mentally disturbed in my view. On the occasions when running was required it was inevitable that some dork would be twice as fast and twice as determined.  I was I remember quite good in the 'sack race,' a habit I took over into my working life.  Cycling is better than running in every way I say.  You get to where you are going normally at least three times as fast, the lack of weight bearing not only eases my knees it is more comfortable, unless you get a free narrow seat that was soon flung away, and on a quiet side road the easy travel allows enjoyment of the world around.  Fields of growing crops noticed in sunshine can be so relaxing, indeed invigorating, bird song can be heard with the absence of cars, blooming flowers add to the fragrance of the world around.  Just don't pass any pig farms!  Hills are a bit of a problem but life gets better when you are heading on the downward slope.  Now I am in the mood for the bike but nothing can be done till the morning, and then I am at the museum.  I bet the day after will be full of rain.  Bah!

I was going to make a note about the Picts those folks from the north east of Scotland about which so little is known.  Tantalisingly they left little in the way of writing but many a decorated stone or cave offers some insight into their lives.  No doubt they were left over from the Iron Age and as we all know not keen on the Romans who stupidly thought they could walk in and take over. Rome did indeed build many small forts in a line all the way to the north of Scotland, one at Cramond in Edinburgh, but could not keep them open.  They say the IX Legion marched in and disappeared somewhere north of Perth but nothing has been found of them yet.  The Picts, basically those living in a line north of the Firth of Forth all the way up the east coast, did little to make themselves friends with Rome.  Few really know where they originated, the Iron Age life appears to be the style they lived, they hunted, were tough indeed, and by a thousand years ago had been absorbed into what is now Scotland.  One in ten apparently has Picts DNA in their blood.  I have Sainsbury's cheap 'Red Label' tea in mine.  
The Anglo-Saxons 'Northumbria' reached all the way up the east coast of England and spread right up to the Firth of forth.  They got no further than the Romans but probably like them thought it was not worth the bother.  If not fighting invaders Picts possibly spent their time fighting one another.  Whether they wore 'woad,' the blue paint or not is debatable but the Picts appear to have lived in small groupings with no major centres.  Cereal crops, sheep, pigs and horse appear to be popular so they could well look after themselves probably in family or clan groups, much like the Gaels in Ireland and elsewhere in the west.  
What language they spoke is not clear and anyone speaking to an Aberdonian today might well confuse his 'Doric' with an ancient Pictish sound, it certainly means little to me.  All that "Fits fit," and "Furryboots min?" is all too much I say.  The Picts left many standing stones, carved in an elaborate manner, what they mean no one knows, but that does not stop folks explaining it mind.  They had their art, traded far and wide, and gained a ferocious reputation.  So little is known of them that they have raised many tales, all fantasy, about their lifestyles.  Even Asterix has them in his latest book!  I just wonder what football team they supported.....

I was going to mention them but canny be bothered tonight as I'm falling asleep as I scrawl so I will just leave a couple of decent links regarding these folks and you can do the work yourselves.

NMS  :  BBC Scotland  :  Wiki  :  OrkneyJar  :  Pictish Stones

Wiki

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Another Book Endeth

While in Colchester a while back I obtained, at half the £3 price, an aged version of Bede's 'History of the English Church and People.'  £1:50 in my view was a decent price although the original price was six shillings when reprinted in 1960!  Six shillings is worth today Thirty Pence! How come old things are worth more as time passes yet you and I appear to be worth less? From today I am going to wear a price tag!

Bede was born in the year 672 or 3 near the modern day town of Sunderland in England's green and pleasant north east.  At least it was green and pleasant at the time!  It is possible he came from a 'noble' family who wished him to enter the monastery as monks were influential at the time.  Several women, of similar backgrounds became Abbess's and highly influential in the politics of the day.  His life otherwise would have been as a Saxon noble a very fraught lifestyle.  
Bede, who called himself 'Beada' when he wrote, his name being altered to Bede by time and language. He entered the monastery at Monkwearmouth when seven years of age and worked between there and the later monastery at Jarrow for the rest of his life.  He did however travel to York and Lindesfarne and it is possible he travelled further.  The only means at the time being horse, boat or feet!   His life, which he clearly enjoyed, was one of study, teaching, writing, and the monks daily routine.  Bede died on Thursday, 26 May 735 (Ascension Day), aged 62.

Bede was committed to his study and he was certainly in the right place, the library at the monastery contained around two hundred books, an enormous amount for the time, and these covered both religious and classic authors. Bede wrote scientific and historical works as well as theological.  His books also covered music, something that was very important to the monks, grammar and chronology. New music arrived from Rome and this had to be taught to the monks throughout the land.  He knew Greek and wrote is readable Latin
His best known work is of course his 'History.'
There is a slight problem to begin with here, the book is titled 'English Church and People,' but this requires some explanation.  Bede was an Anglo Saxon, an incomer after the Romans had left around the four hundreds.  To Bede these Saxons, divided into several realms, were the 'English.' When he talks of the 'British' he refers to those living in the west, usually Wales.  The 'Scots' are of course Irish and the Scots Christians originate from Iona, an Abbey begun by Columba many years before.  Those from Scotland were of course Picts, a people who have disappeared from sight, although their DNA still hangs about many Scots ('Scots' Scots that is).  The Scots religion is almost identical with the Roman version brought later by Augustine to Canterbury but Bede spends an inordinate amount of time to ensure they get the 'correct' date for Easter!
Simple really when you think about it.

Wiki

Bede is keen to record the Kings who became Christian, that is Roman Catholic. Those that do are praised as noble, those that do not are seen as bad pagans. Bede tends to a bias against Mercia possibly a bias caused by the Mercian's unhappy habit of attacking his people.  The Kings appear to be happy to war with one another whether 'Christian' or not it appears to me.  The job of being King tends to involve a lot of war, and there was a lot of war in Saxon times.  
The 'History' was completed in the year 731 and begins with a geographical account and a history dating from Caesar's invasion.  Christian Roman Britain, St Alban, and Augustine are covered, the latter bringing Christianity to the Anglo Saxons.  Bede covers Penda, Edwin, the Council of Whitby where the Scots (from Ireland) lost out to Rome, and on up to his own day which he leaves tantalisingly as he has no way of knowing what the future will bring for his people.  

Bede's Christianity is very Roman Catholic.  His admiration for Rome, a place he is unlikely to have visited, is clear.  This is surprising as his knowledge was great yet he finds no conflict between being a 'priest' and no such role being found in the New Testament!  His obedience to Rome removes such questions from his mind.  Throughout when he informed of a miracle, some of which are interesting, others somewhat dubious, he appears to accept them without comment.  Possibly he merely adds them as this was what those in his day accepted as fact. These are often accompanied by an explanation that the story originated with someone honest. Some do appear unlikely but for myself I have found such things, moments where God works in the lives of those around us, and why should he not?  At times the narration appears to consist of who was Bishop, when they died and who replaced them.  This can be wearing after a while. The historian will find this useful but it makes for poor reading.  One Bishop looks like any other to me.  The same can be said of the Kings.  Names arise and fall, first in one area then another, some become famous others are soon forgotten.  Those that return to paganism are seen to die soon afterwards, those that stay 'faithful' die glorious deaths or are killed by wicked people.       

I confess this was a disappointing book for me.  It would be wrong to expect a history similar to those published today however the listing of peoples while useful is somewhat drab.  Too much concern for the 'correct' date Easter and almost nothing about the daily lives of the people outside of the monastery walls.  To both nobles and monks the people were the lower orders and their absence except when being preached at tells us something of the separation of the important people from the common. This is not what Christianity should offer!  
For those interested in the 'dark days' of the Anglo Saxons this is a must read. We know so little, although much is being discovered daily, that Bede shines a light into the world later vanquished by the Norman invasion of 1066. The world of monks, often in freezing conditions, writing their books, often wonderful pieces of art, the fields farmed by those possibly on subsistence levels, the wars, the Vikings, the rich jewels of the royalty, and the land.  Land used mostly for farming with the cold North Sea in the background.  Even today the north of Northumbria near Lindisfarne is quite empty and to me always an attractive area.  I wonder however how empty the land was in the seven hundreds?  Small huts would adorn the land, villages and towns would prosper, and many travelled the highways, covering many miles, whatever the weather. Not sufficient tales are told of these people by Bede, most of his tales come from within monastery and Abbey walls.  I feel this is a lack indeed. 

Bede may not have known this but he was recognised for his scholarship in 1899 when he was declared by Rome as a 'Doctor of the Church,' the only 'Englishman' named thus.


Bede  :  Durham Tomb  :  Bede's World

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Daffs

The daffs were looking good this afternoon, allowing the sun to offer them sufficient semblance of heat to pretend Spring was around the corner.  The sky once again offered a lot of blue, as did most folks faces as the cold wind ignored the sun and chilled us to the bone.  
I was up early as my luck was in as usual.  My luck being the need to iron shirts last night as all had been through the wash.  My luck showed as I began the first, the iron died!  I knew it died as the steam stopped steaming and the smooth iron became sluggish and a slug like trail appeared on the garment. Experiments soon proved the beast was dead and this morning I wandered in the sunshine to Tesco before the crowds gathered and splashed out £5:50 for a luxury new one. Now I have several weeks worth of shirts (five) without once asking help from a female.  The answer I usually receive is not worth offering here.

Tomorrow rain is promised all day, hooray.....  

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Hey Ewe!

I posted a picture a wee while back of tartan coloured sheep.  The other day I came across this picture also.  These sheep belong to a man who's name has run from my head (was it Adams?) at Boghall Farm near Bathgate.  Only Scots would make a Hall in a bog you understand.  Anyway this chap has for some years past dyed his sheep various colours often regarding events at the time. Recently they were dyed purple to support the Erskine charity appeal.  Erskine look after wounded soldiers and purple is their colour.  Quite what was happening when he multi coloured his sheep here I know not.  They can indeed be seen as you pass along the motorway from Edinburgh, Scotland's capital city to Glasgow, where we keep the lower orders.  I just remember that I saw them a few years ago as we passed, i canny mind what colour they were that day however.  
Many farmers now do this to their sheep, this can be done for practical purposes in counting them, twenty red, twenty blue etc, and occasionally such are used in adverts and farmers are always keen on money making schemes.  Some think this harms the flock but it seems to be quite safe.  Poisoned sheep do not retail very well at market anyway.  Sheep can in fact cope with certain poisons very well, although copper does them a lot of harm as arsenic does us.

These boys were participating in an advert regarding Ireland in some form or other.  Some folks rear sheep they have to sit outside chewing the cud with of course, but I myself would never mention this in polite company.

Guardian

Officers of the 42nd Highland Regiment, The Black Watch, photographed by Roger Fenton in the Crimea during the war with Russia in 1854.  Today we read of Simferopol airport receiving several Russian cargo aircraft carrying hundreds of troops.  Clearly Putin is acting the strong man once again, the Russian Fleet is based in the Crimea and he does not wish to lose that port, and in spite of warnings from the US and Europe he clearly intends to support his people there in the eastern half of the Ukraine.    
How easily wars begin.
Barbara Tuchman, that great American Historian wrote 'The March of Folly,' in which she shows how wars begin through peoples misunderstanding of one another and the motives behind each action. Ukraine is divided into two halves, the majority wishing to be part of Europe, the Eastern half predominately Russians descended of those moved there by Stalin wish to associate themselves with Moscow.  For centuries Ukraine was seen as part of the Russian sphere, something many Ukrainians rejected and still reject.  Indeed during the war many wished to support Hitler if it got rid of Stalin! Hitler merely had them shot.  Today a large number wish to join with Russia and the propaganda tells them their opponents are 'fascists,' and a danger.  In fact they are probably just well educated and desire contact with the EU rather than domination by Putin. I tend to side with them, Mr Putin clearly does not.
Will arms be raised in the west?  It appears nothing has been said anywhere, and careful words only will be made public.  A delicate stage has been reached, if Putin sends troops to retake Kiev rather than protect his port this could be dangerous.  

Watching Paint Dry.

Yesterday the chill in the air was softened by the blue in the sky.  Daffodils lowered their bright yellow heads in the wind, bright 'cotton wool' clouds scudded by, dogs chased imaginary objects yapping in the park.  I awoke this morning to rain lashing the grubby windows, the huddled masses cowering under hoods, caps and umbrellas as they headed to work and the decision to stay indoors and finish the painting was made for me.  

That was not long after seven of the clock and moving at a fast pace I was up and painting by ten thirty five.  A second coat of cheap white emulsion in the small bathroom, a first coat on the small hall.  The balancing on the three step ladder is improving and I only fell off once.  That wall was getting painted anyway!  The ceiling looks good now even though my sense of direction failed me several times.   Even better it looks good enough not to require a second coat, which is good as there is little paint left.  In the morning all the pictures will be put back on those nails you see sticking out, once the grime is removed from them, and life can return to some sort of normality.  

The normality means returning to building that PC.  Now that most bits are in and connected I have come across yet another problem, the not connected bits, the connected bits that may be connected to wrong bits, and why is there no connector for one or two bits?  All very confusing to my befuddled mind. Now the paint is no longer bespotting my glasses I can spend more time watching how the experts do it.  If they have the same bits I have, naturally.  

      

The clouds returned at several times today.  I ventured out for bread as another dark looming cloud brought spots of rain but it did allow me this shot.  The type of shot we get a lot of at this time of year.  It might yet be a shot of snow tomorrow if my aches allow me out!  

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Correspondence

This is the similar to the pile of letters, documents, bills and requests for money piling up on the desk, not counting those that have fallen down the back. Having spent another enjoyable day at the museum throwing stuff out, she was not very pleased I can tell you, and chatting to aged visitors I return to the long list of things that remain untouched even yet.  Naturally while watching Manchester United struggling in Greece they will be left untouched for a while yet.

Well watching Man U struggle was a waste of space.  Even Brighton were better last night.  The tackle by Carrick at the second goal was so poor my grannie could have done better, and she died in 1915! The media will restart the Moyes witchhunt again, drooling over their chance to knock someone down when he is already down.  This will all come good again in the end but the poor Manchester United fan will suffer for the next season or so.  Mins you most of them will be swapping their bus trips to Manchester for the bus to Chelsea if they win the league, won't they? Mind you the Greek side Olympiakos were no slouches, and they did their part well.  My grannie would have scored twice against them mind!

A quick look through the press show nothing has happened today.  Ther media have nothing to offer as normal except brief details of the 'Tour de France' which passes close by later this year.  I would venture a look if it was not for the millions of people blocking the road at the time, all roads being blocked also at the time.  Tsk!  I must look into this near the time.  
I wonder if Grannie ever rode a bike....?  
  
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Monday 24th

After a breakfast of stale bread and mushrooms, the mushrooms were growing on the heel of the bread, I decided I needed to both exercise and shop so I wandered far down the road to the 'Lidl' place where folks tell me things are real bargains.
The lied!  As in a previous venture there I found the store cluttered, confusing, prices badly displayed if displayed at all and the customers rough!  Not what I am used to in Tesco.  The bread was poor and overpriced, two items I bought were under false prices and nothing appeared to be cheaper than the regular shops, so why do folks claim this place is cheaper?  Not to me it aint.  The three main supermarkets have cheaper prices in my view, or maybe I just know better as to how to work them I wonder?  Having walked all that way in chilly bright sunshine I then had to walk all the way back again, not one person offered me a lift.  
Having discovered on Saturday just how unfit I am I rediscovered this while crawling back home. Several cups of tea and a long perusal of Jerry's new book I then had a choice of fixing the PC at last or painting the bathroom.  Here again I was wrong as I realised I had to make soup first.  Lentil soup of my own recipe, the kind of thing that puts hair on your chest, it certainly does that for the pot I make it in!  I will leave it fermenting overnight to see what happens. I may get a Nobel Prize for chemistry one day.  Then came the painting. However after struggling with the first coat, including the ceiling, including learning the art of falling off without landing in the bath, I decided that was enough and found myself fair puggled with all the effort.  The second coat can wait, and luckily I have the museum tomorrow so it may wait until Wednesday.  However after all this I still have loads of stuff that require attention!  How come I am so busy, in between medical assistance, that so much has not been done yet?  Do I need a secretary perhaps?
I would have written something much more interesting but I was forced to watch Hull City beating Brighton tonight. Tsk! 

The picture is just part of the old workhouse/hospital extension that caught my eye in the sun this morning.  Looking up you often see such things on buildings, on occasion they are interesting.

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Laff!

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A Small Mistake

A small but not fatal mistake was to rise when not quite awake and cycle up the old railway when not quite up to it.  Weeks have passed since I journeyed up there, it showed!  Oh how my knees are letting me know it showed!  Still, I saw the sun, even though the cold air cut through me, I saw the countryside again, the occasional dog walker, one or two joggers and most of them being what I call 'London overspill.'  These are folks who commute to London during the week and never return the 'Good morning,' as London folks do not know how, and stare straight ahead as if you do not exist.  During the week the passersby are much more friendly.  
Returning to home quicker than expected I returned to bed to recover.  After that I forgot to do anything much and spent the day watching football.  Other things can be done later......

  
Lighter mornings that make me rise early, sunny evenings that offer interesting skies, but I ignore them to watch the football and suffer aches.  Good job I am not one to complain, that's all...

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Clearing the Mess!

Having reached the end of the week and not being forced to cover lazy skivers folks at the museum I finally started on the looooong list of things awaiting attention here.  I changed the bed for a start, and it's not even the end of the month yet, had the washing machine purring away, moved the plant and cleaned the window area as a man will soon appear to renovate the sodden wooden frames, laid out the pile of mail that requires answering and working out where the money required for this is to come from, placed my newly arrived 'old man's so much off the price Railcard' into my disintegrating wallet while dreaming of train trips far away, sorted the desk into some sort of organisation, sent an Amazon voucher to my niece for her 50th birthday (I burst into tears here let alone her) via her husband as she will not be able to work the email, checked if the bookcase I was admiring at the shop up the road was still on offer, it wasn't bah, inserted a working lightbulb into the common stair so we no longer walk into the doors as we enter, visited Tesco for the special offers and fell asleep.
How nice to have a day off!

The paining still awaits, I could not paint the bathroom as I had the dirty big plant in the bath while I sorted the window, the ironing of shirts had to wait because, well just because, (any offers to do it out there...?  oh!), considered rewriting the items prepared for the museum into some form of proper English but just couldn't face it, and I am now looking at the PC that I am rebuilding, awaiting the courage to continue the work.  It appeared so easy in the pictures!
So instead I have walked around the town looking at the sunshine while freezing all the while, how does that work?  I passed the shops where shiny things attract my wallet wandering down the back streets where I hoped to see more of the sun, instead I saw lots of kids and assorted people making the most of the last day off the half term holiday.  
So, shall I do the tricky PC work now?  Let's eat first....

Now as I was saying....hold on, Dundee United are playing Motherwell tonight!
Bye!

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Relaxing Music for the Needy

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Nothing to Say

So here is a picture of a Highland Coo all dressed up and ready for action.  
The sad truth is that while rising early was on my mind I did indeed awaken at six but fell back to sleep and reawoke at 8:30!  Not only but I awoke exhausted! Why?  By ten I had managed to finish breakfast and half dozed my way through the morning.  It was time to return to the museum before I had done anything, so nothing is done!  What happened?  Nothing!

The museum was once again busy, hundreds passed through, actually only a reasonable number but the kids passed back and forth many times each, and young and old appeared to enjoy their visits.  The boss had a slight mishap when the kitchen cupboard containing the plates gave way and dropped the two boxes of glasses on the floor.  We salvaged 15 out of considerably more. 
Ho hum!   
However by the time I get home I am washed out, nothing is done, and I cannot get the little gray cells to function properly.  The news is the usual bunk, Tony Blair seen as having shoved his nose into dubious happenings, the Westminster government getting 'friends' to frighten Scots into voting 'No' in September, floods fill the land still while Cameron promises money and we trust his promises, and the Ukraine heads towards civil war and it's everybody else's fault!  So nothing to comment on.  There is the Australian arrested for giving Christian leaflets to folks in North Korea of course, he could do 15 years but at 75 he may not be too worried.  He will certainly not get out quickly.  Some things need to be subtly in North Korea, and not when in a small guarded party. 

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