Morning Work

This chap here tends to worry the kids as some think he is alive.  Sadly he is not and judging by the weight of his armour he is probably glad he is not alive.  The chain mail alone may weigh around 30 kilos.  He does give a good indication of the type of soldier you would see burning down your house and crops around the 1200's. 

Robert de Vere was the baron who lived in Hedingham castle (not this one, it's only a model) a castle which had only one failing, it wasn't very good.  The Keep seen here still stands and is well worth a visit if you like climbing stairs.  Much of the time it makes money by being used as a wedding venue or similar but occasionally it is open.  Some years ago a pretty girl and I climbed high up to the top and enjoyed the views over a wide area.  Then she pushed me off.  The layout is simle inside, one each floor you make use of the space where there are no dividing walls, just a curtain maybe to protect the Lord for you common types.  The dungeon was a bit dark however.
This present exhibition concerns the 'Magna Carta,' that's 'Big Charter' to you, and de Vere was one of the local Barons who rose up against King John.  The man at Stanstead Mountfichet, Pleshey and Dunmow also joined the rebelllion and after a short battle somewhere in Lincolnshire if memory serves me right King John came to Essex lookingfor the barons. 
They all hopped it to London as brave men do because London was on their side and impregnible. What happened to the folks left behind was not nice if they supported their man although many moved elsewhere as the ravaging army passed by.    
English inginuity has led to the small village around the castle being called 'Castle Hedingham.'

Another exhibition has been doing the rounds recently.  The women knitted several buildings in the town (when I first saw them I thought they were cakes!) and these are on display at the moment.  Here we see the museum including tree and statue of John Ray the naturalist in the front.

Some may prefer the view of the 'Swan' a public house that has stood here at least since the 1500's and probably before that also.  Taverns have a use and before the Reformation many pilgrims passed this way heading for the shrine at Bury St Edmunds.

Amongst our new stock I discovered this, it looks more appealing than 'Lemon Cheese' whatever that is!

The Gardens

The sun has gone, replaced with the beginning of another leftover hurricane sent from our friends in the west.  Quite why they insist on sending their used hurricanes to us I know not but there really is no need for them to do this, we have plenty wind and rain already.  However this means a wander through the gardens without screaming brats or the mothers with their noses stuck up in the air and gives freedom to actually enjoy the plant life.  The only life came from a white cat desperate for attention, I feared he was lost but he soon disappeared clearly knowing his way about.  As I wandered further a second likewise desperate cat appeared and I realised they were missing the woman who played with and fed them.  I was a sore disappointment for them.

Near the round pond a tree has been cut down after more than a hundred years service and some wag has turned the remnants into this seat.  Kiddies will love it but I wonder if it is wise.  Personally I prefer if it had just been left as a stump as has happened elsewhere but I suppose this keeps some happy. 

The gardens were given to the town in the 1880's by the Courtauld family.  These were their gardens over the street from their big house which still stands now turned into flats.  The family were Unitarians and during the 19th century they followed the common idea of a 'social gospel' in which rich folks paid for schools, hospitals etc for the local townsfolk.  Very admirable David Cameron would say keeping both hands in the pockets of his thousand pound Saville Row suit.  It was indeed a well planted garden and these trees rise majestically over it.  A wide variety are found here and various firs make excellent homes for a variety of birds, none of whom came anywhere near the feline visitors.

I spent much of the day listening to the excellent old programmes available, if you search hard enough for them, on the BBC iPlayer.  These included one programme about Austin Texas and the weirdos who inhabit that strange place.  Texans are of course like all Americans - weird - and fail to spell their words correctly also!  Deep in the bowels of Radio 4 I found 'The Roman Way' the first of several on their influence in history.  I would have listened to the news but this was full of George Osborne telling us lies re the marvellous things he is doing as he prepares to take over from Cameron as Prime Minister.  I switched off and burnt my dinner instead.  I must get out of the habit of turning the knob on the cooker too far, it keeps switching on the grill when I mean oven.  So much gets burnt this way.  At least while listening to the wireless from the distant past I sorted out my mail file on the 'in tray.'  I had about six months old mail lying there, much now in the bin.

This comes to mind when George Osborne speaks...

"Snigger" Sunday

I failed to cross the threshold till dusk was falling tonight.  Not for the first time my Sunday has not been what I wished it to be!  The sun shone brightly outside but foolishly I watched mediocre football instead of striding around in possibly the last sun of the year.  Ah well walking in the cool of the day when few people pass by is a good thing.  The gray like sky was blue when I shut the door but darkening by the minute as I caught the trailers of people rushing for late holidays in the sun or heading back home for work in Edinburgh or Belfast tomorrow.  Flying in the dark is not as much fun as in the day, I like to watch the earth pass me by way down below.

I awoke to a man chattering on about writing letters.  The thrust of his chatter concerned people no longer scrawling words onto paper and sending the epistle in an envelope to a recipient and how awful this is.  Today we send e-mails or even texts, those can can work text or understand text speak that is, and for many this is now a crime.  No more heartless informal e-mails they cry, get a pen and write it all down.
I disagree.
Indeed receiving a letter though the post is a great joy, I received one myself only the other day and after carefully steaming open the letter, reading how much they wished me to pay, I resealed it and wrote "Not Known" on the front and sent it back.  Receiving a letter is always a good thing if from a friend or if it contains something of value.  However since the telephone became popular in the late 60's and commonplace by the 70's and with the mobile phone that doubles as a computer writing letters is a needless action much of the time.  People can speak via the phone or text/send e-mail or just ignore you as they do me.  The requirement to sit down and cogitate on a letter no longer exists.
When a postman I reckoned one day I had three 'letters' to deliver, all the rest were routine stuff, bills, banks, birthday cards etc, as these need papers copies or contain gifts, letters as such are overtaken by e-mail.  
I like letters but I prefer e-mail as it is quicker, cheaper and gets a quick answer, usually!  However if any young woman wishes to write to me in a perfumed £20 note please note I am willing to rush downstairs and collect it when the postie gets here!

You will have noticed how the world is laughing at England just now.  The imperialists considered this was their world cup and took it for granted they would win it.  The bombast over playing Wales fell flat when the Welsh stuffed them good.  Murmurings were heard everywhere as this was not supposed to happen.  It wasn't in the script prepared by the media and the people.  The build up to the game with Australia is best summed up by 'The Sun.'

Naturally the Aussies stuffed them and stuffed them right good at that!  How the tears flowed!  Now when your side loses a big game it does hurt however when you for reasons unknown believe you will win and believe you are better than all the others in spite of the facts to watch your suffering becomes a delight to those trampled by your imperialism in days gone by, such as yesterday!  How the English cannot believe they have lost, how they weep and wail, how the search for scapegoats and demand hanging is brought back.  The fact is it is only rugby and not that important, but it is good to see them suffer, not that I enjoy this in any way whatsoever.

 
"snigger"

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Thoughts...

This old boy was sitting on this sign early this morning as I entered Sainsburys.  He was cawing in a somewhat tired manner and while a bit wary made no attempt to fly away as long as I kept my distance.  He looked world weary and possibly did not wish to move unless forced to, I know how he feels!  Later in the day he and his mates were soaring high above in the sunshine making the most of the sun before it disappears for the winter.

 

Independent 

The Middle East is indeed the place to look for confusion.  The Sunni Saudi's, along with the Sunni Qatari's, have spent much encouraging Syrians to rise up and fight Assad. How much US & western support that was given for this is hard to define.  Iran & Russia have supported Assad, Shia Iran knows the Saudi's are in reality attacking them, and by encouraging the rise of various groups, now interspersed with a variety of Islamic groups, we see ISIS coming into prominence in northern Sunni Iraq.  Southern Shia Iraq merely imports Iranians to help defend their bit.

Because they are a danger to us here we bomb ISIS, we give no support to Kurds fighting them as this upsets Turkey, our friend, who bomb Kurds because they are not their friends.  Bombs have been falling all over the place occasionally on the right people and the total effect is near enough nil!

Now Russia has added their men to the fight informing the world they will bomb ISIS and instead bombing all the opponents of that nice Mr Assad.  

One mistake with all these planes bombing this group and that is the chances of a US or Russian aircraft being downed by the other.  That will be nice.  Who to blame, what will be the result?  We sit and wait.

Possibly Putin just wishes to be accepted in the Big World, possibly he is just a thug pushing his luck, possibly WW3 will arrive any time now.  Naturally the media have taken the sides the government has told them to take, naturally much that is written is speculation.  Naturally the people suffer, die and disappear into oblivion and nothing changes.  David Cameron has spoken, no one listens.

Washington Times

While the Middle East fills the pages of the press wars elsewhere do not.  This old story of the Central African Republic I note has not changed since it was written in January.  The violence has been interrupted by the UN and French troops arriving but it continues yet.  More refugees, more flooding into Europe - if they can get there - more violence, death and homelessness.  The European press does little.  Many places suffer in this world only some are worth mentioning it appears.

Dawn of a New Diet

The sun was attempting to rise as I woke this morning.  I struggled into the light, through aside the hot water bottle, the radio, the empty drinks bottles, the books, the crumbs from supper and the teddy bear and climbed out of bed.  Dressing quickly (I must close those curtains one night) I ventured out into the misty dawn.  A large red disk hung just above the treeline, a 'Blood Sun' to go with the  recent 'Blood Moon.'  The air at seven was quiet and still.  An occasional vehicle passed, one or two cyclists struggling towards work greeted me, a lass passed with her nose in the chilly air.  A squirrel chased something that was not there  while the Rooks strutted importantly about the park stopping now and then to listen and look around them.  
The early morn is such a lovely time of day, unless you are hurrying towards bus, train or work of course.  Only those individuals and a dog walker or two will be spotted, dog nose to the ground, owner wrapped up ready to climb the Eiger!  The freshly cut grass gave of its fragrance, the air itself selling sweet.  High above the blue could be glimpsed trying to break through the mist and as yet no aircraft dared to break the near silence.

 

It was somewhat unfortunate therefore to be reminded of the kiddies who had been screaming late last night when ensconced here in the dark.  I didn't hear them that well last night as I was concentrating on the football but clearly one of them is old enough to obtain several bottles of cheap American beer.  I wondered what their folks would say when they got home.  Indeed did they have a home?  Did anyone at home care?  Maybe they are old enough, so why not drink in a pub I ask myself?  I was 17 years of age before I got my hands on a bottle of beer, one small bottle of  'Sweetheart Stout' then considered a ladies drink but we cared not.  Later I shared a similar small bottle of 'McEwan's Export' with several others, signifying not that we had grown up but that one of the older blokes must have turned his back at the wrong time!  Later, still 17 I took to drinking in the pub outside the brewery where I worked, 'Lager & Lime' was the chosen drink at that time, and I celebrated my 18th birthday there, but got no free drink.  I can see why folks take to this stuff but they appear to get a great deal more than we ever did far too early in my view.  Oh I'm old!

Alas my fuzzy brain failed to experiment enough to get a good capture of the red sun, I ought to have fiddled with the settings, but it does give the impression of the mist that spread itself all over East Anglia hindering the light warming the land.  A dreamy scene in which dark silhouetted figures pass in the far distance dogs trailing behind, occasionally far ahead.  The women gather in groups to gossip and protect themselves from the nasty men who attack them constantly, or so the papers tell us, and the dogs love the get together with others, tails wagging, cheerful yapping and kiss and chase action all over the park.  

Fiddling the bits did give an interesting picture of a historic street.  At least around a thousand years go the Bishop of London took control of half of the town land.  This are was close to where he built his little palace and chapel therefore a road was created to run to it, possible building on an earlier pathway.  Essex was once all forest and it may well have had a path running though here.  The road we see now is the hardened version that came relatively recently but well in time for the nineteenth century revolution in factory life that hit the town.  To the left new houses exist where once Crittall's, famous for their iron window frames, had their large factory, or at least one of their factories.  Many men walked this way to work in the morning, good conditions, good pay, good labour relations and most remained there for life.  During the Great War Crittall's employed two thousand or so women, all paid the same as the men, and behind the houses to the right stood Lake & Elliott's foundry, that too employing thousands and with a gas works so powerful it fired the factory and all of the town as well!  Now all is housing.  Crittall's exists still but shorn of its glory, Lake's 'Jacks' for vehicles were once word famous now dissipated by the fifties influx of foreign competition.  

I then headed home for a breakfast of leftover 'Singapore Noodles' with egg running through it.  Later, some time later, when the sun had turned yellow and rose high in the sky I wandered out once more and accidentally fell into the strange shop in the High Street that sells grossly overpriced health.  I noticed that two employees were very thin and one far from that position but I made nothing of this.  I wandered about chasing away attempts at 'help' and browsed the potions.  At last I found Carol's recommended 'Chia seeds,' and also a mixture of 'Flaxseed & Goji berries,' the Goji I believe being the stuff recommended by 'The Venomous Bead' a while back.  
Being lunchtime I lunched on healthy microwaved porridge with a rather large portion of ''Flaxseed & Goji' upon it, followed by tea with a dose of 'Chia Seeds' thrown in.  This I said to myself with make me healthy, give me vim and vigour, encourage the mind to work, strengthen the muscles and produce energy, something I desperately require at the moment.  I finished my tea and soon fell asleep. 

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A Literate Post.

Pied Beauty
By Gerard Manley Hopkins

 
Glory be to God for dappled things –
   For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
      For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
   Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
      And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
   Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
      With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
                                Praise him. 
Poetry Foundation

I thought of this as I crossed into the park this afternoon.  The light was dappling everything and a very summery outlook lay all around, even though this is Autumn.  You can tell it's Autumn by the leaves lying around, and the rain to come next week will no doubt bring them all down.  The dappled leaves and trees were attractive and I wished to make the most of them before they disappear for the winter.

Pier at this...

I have spent much time recovering from carrying bags of vegetables, fruit and other healthy eatables home by listening to Radio 4 Extra much of the day.  Especially those fifteen minute programmes on real people doing real things.  I like those.  A new old one began about people who have saved old piers and run them mostly on a voluntary basis.  These piers abounded in seaside resorts allowing folks to catch steamers to view the coast or just to parade back and forward showing yourself off to the masses.  Blackpool famously started one but the day trippers from the Mills and Mines of Lancashire irked the middle classes and they had to build a second one further up and charge a shilling a go instead of sixpence down where the common loot were to be found.  The commoners drank a lot, the ground leading onto the pier had been 'donated' by the publican who owned it and his pub sat near the entrance, how convenient.  He made a fortune and the goings on further out, dancing and hedonism, were not what 'decent people' wished to see.  They kept that sort of thing to themselves and their diaries like what decent folks do.
I am not sure rebuilding a pier and attempting to keep it running would interest me but walking along one at Swanage earlier was interesting.  The sights of the sea, boats of all sorts, sunshine and the sea waving back at me were very enjoyable.  This pier like many others was partly paid for by small metal plaques nailed into the floor commemorating individuals special events, a death, an anniversary, or just an individual.  It appears this is a good way to earn cash for such events.

The kitchen is awash with greens.  Tomatoes, asparagus spears, celery, cabbage, mushrooms, purple thing and tins of beans of various sorts yet I find myself sitting here watching the football with tea in one hand a chocolate doughnut in the other.  Aint life grand!

Cabbage & Mars

Riviera

I give in to the pressure!  Reading for the umpteenth time about the 'Mediterranean diet' and being hectored from overseas I am once again returning to a veg diet.  The Med diet is full of veg, fruits, nuts and oily fish, and mine has been less than equal to this for a while now.  In the morning I will visit the shops and purchase appropriate veg, though I might have that pie for breakfast first....
Carol tells us that 'Chia' is the power food of the day - or at least that's what her son tells her - and I read the other day about the 'superfoods' that the trendies were spending vast sums of money on.  One of them was 'Blueberries,' grossly overpriced and not much better than other berries, strawberries for instance, 'Kale' a type of cabbage my mum used to eat in the 20's because it was cheap, I read any cabbage is good for you, indeed 'cabbage' the much maligned substance is one of the best veg to eat as long as not overcooked.  Anyhow my cooking kills all goodness in foodstuffs so it makes no difference.  I will however attempt a new diet again tomorrow.

NASA

Continuing our fascination with the heavens I note that there has been excitement in space circles with the discovery, it appears, of water on the planet Mars.  Much excitement as there are many experiments ongoing regarding sending men to the planet and even establishing a wee village up there.  Hmmm it will take a round trip of three years to get there and back as I understand it, then with the time establishing the village you can add on another couple of years so whoever goes will be away for at least five years and possibly more.  No doubt political correctness will insist on females participating on this journey, indeed some astronauts will insist on this also, and I suspect Russians, Europeans and maybe even the Chinese will become involved, the costs will be prohibitive otherwise, and I suspect an effort will be made to bring about such a trip.  The difficulties of space exploration in such an environment are immense, the costs out of this world, the chance of success limited, and yet it does excite many people.  Will they find intelligent life on Mars?  Will they find intelligent life on earth first I wonder?

As Well as can be Expected....

There were no stars in this bit...

I failed to rise at three a.m. to see the moon last night, as it would be behind the house it made no difference in the end.  However I did wake at four thirty and was struck by the stars above.  I was not exactly struck by them, they being many light years distance but I was struck by their brightness.  You see the local council switch off the street lights at midnight to save money, much to the joy of the light fingered amongst us, and they remain off until five in the morning.  With the skies being clear I was able to see the stars in a manner I have not noticed for many years.  I stood, half dressed obviously, at the window staring into the sky above.  The brightness surprised me and it was as if I could reach out and touch them.  How strange.  I suppose the street lights have hidden the sky from us except for those in country areas.  Luckily this small market town in rural enough to allow for some sky to be seen and a clear sky being a rarity it became a fun time for me.
In London I had the habit of leaning out my fourth floor window and staring upwards.  This took me above the street lights and on many occasions satellites or space craft of one sort or another could be seen making their way across the skies.  However the stars appeared further away than they did last night.  very bright star (Acturus) or possibly Saturn itself shone brightly last night.  I know the names because I made use of 'Stellarium' to check up this morning.  This is a FREE offering and well worth it if you like the stars and can understand how to work it (I can't!). 
I was freezing when I got back into my pit!

 EAR

The day has been spent on my side.  I have been inserting 'Otex' into my ear to clear the wax which is making me deaf and beginning to pain me.  However having looked at the diagram of the ear I am left amazed at how complicated the structure is.  In the 60's the 'Tomorrow's World' programme on BBC offered an insight into inventions and interesting science type stuff that even dumb folk like me could understand.  However such TV is not tolerated today, only house programmes, cooks and dumb soap operas are allowed, thinking is frowned upon!
One programme revealed the fibre optic cable, or whatever it was called then.  This this wire was inserted into a woman's ear and attached to a camera and revealed the inner working of an actual ear.  Such equipment is used daily in hospitals world wide but at the time it was revolutionary.  It was shoved down her throat also and offered an insight into her lungs which we normally never saw.  I don't suppose she saw much of her insides either come to think of it. Of course she had no wax in there at the time, which was fortunate I suppose.  I am trying to ensure I can hear tomorrow at work, at least until one when I shall run back home to bed.  How I miss that.

A Gloamin to Roam in...

All day I lingered indoors.  The Lurgi still lay its cold hand on my shoulder and I had no care for wandering abroad.  My passport is lost in the drawer anyway so I slunk around the home.  My ear aches as wax has built up and nothing moves it, not even the stuff that is supposed to move it.  My mood therefore has lessened from last night when I spent needless time enjoying the English suffering from a rugby defeat by Wales.  Especially as the arrogant ones were boasting of their victory before it had arrived.  The Welsh, in spite of several men being carried off injured, came from behind to win an outstanding victory, and the world rejoiced, certainly in Wales, Scotland and Ireland!  Gloating over the fall of an enemy is a bad thing but I managed to suffer that last night.  The morning papers, desperate to speak of a victory instead hunted for a scapegoat in the normal manner.  In Wales they just hunted for something to ease the hangover!

Anyway I was unable to watch Scotland crushing the USA rugby team, even though this was the first time I heard the USA had a rugby team, as I fell asleep for a long time and missed the game.  The idea of falling asleep appears a good one to me at the moment.  Tonight after damaging my eyes on the laptop I suddenly decided to go out roaming in the glaoming.  At seven the darkness had already fallen and I grabbed the wee camera and crossed the park.  Nothing special about the sunset tonight but behind was a huge glowing moon awaiting three in the morning when it turns into a 'blood moon' and excites folks world wide.  Sadly my camera failed to capture this and I have a variety of wee bright dots, some shaky, against a lot of darkness and this is somewhat unsatisfactory.  

The air was however very 'summery,' indeed almost warm, but not quite, and I wandered about looking for a sky to photograph.  A dog walker in the gloaming far off, a man with a child wondering home seen through the gloom and a light here and there in a distant window.  The peacefulness found on a Sunday evening is heightened as kids are forced to stay indoors and prepare for school tomorrow.     

The churches gathered together in the Salvation Army hall for a meeting tonight, and I was trying to picture the light in the darkness but this was all I got.  I wondered how many gathered tonight and was tempted to go myself as I could not get out again this morning.  I noticed the 'Wagon & Horses' had only four occupants as I passed, one couple and two single men.  How lonely a life when it is spent finding company in a pub on a Sunday night?  I once knew many who were like that in London. Cricklewood in the seventies was full of Irishmen who went from work to the many cafe's for a decent cheap dinner and to the pub at night as they had nothing else to do.  Irish women preferred more sophisticated men, that is non labourers, so there were many lonely Irishmen there at the time.  The pubs were always full.  London, like most cities, is one of the loneliest places in the world. 

I suspect that area once a mixture of rich and poor has now been gentrified and the poorer lads have been heaved out and houses will no longer offer 'bedsits' having been turned into expensive properties.

 

I limped back the way I had come, again failing to capture the moon.  This of course is the last of the four 'blood moons' that some believe herald Christs return.  This could well be the case.  In Matthew he speaks of such events, famines, earthquakes and wars before his return.  I cheered me somewhat that he will come and we will see him again.  It also made me realise how much  I must change before he comes, and I am becoming convinced we will see him ourselves!  There are many false prophets, wise people research to check the false from the real as Jesus will return, and wishes you to be waiting for him.  I hope we are all ready as this is life, in between the earache and bad knees, that nothing else can equal.

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Payout

Having been kept inside for much of the week by the Lurgi I only ventured as far as the supermarkets, which is indeed not far at all.  However twice today I wandered further, wondering why my knees ached, and even went to the 'hole in the wall' to grasp money.
I entered the details and the machine went through the process until I pushed the £100 button.
"Are you sure?"  It asked.
"Yes" said I.
"What, you with drawing cash?"
It was clear this machine has a feminine attitude, at least I base this judgement ion the women of my acquaintance.
"Yes," said I getting narked, "I wish to withdraw cash."
"Can you afford it, " she said, "I mean you don't have much and it is better off with me."
I told you it was female!
"No, just GIVE ME THE CASH!" I was beginning to fret.
Just then I realised the man at the other cash point was muttering things also.  "It's my money so give it!" he said with a certain amount of 'energy' in his voice.  "Yes I need it," he growled...
"It is possible you are  Romanian refugee who has found your dropped card" said the screen, "What is your mothers name? This is a security question." she added needlessly.
"MUM." I snarled.
"Thank you," said the screen sweetly lying in its teeth. "Please re-enter your number for security reasons."
I did as requested and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The man next door was now head banging the machine and muttering "JUST GIVE THE MONEY!"
I pressed the 'enter' button and the screen came to life again.
"Are you sure you want this money?" she asked.
"I have a screwdriver here," I typed in, "And if you do not payout I will undo you."
The money came down almost immediately.
The man next door immediately entered the same and received his cash also.
The banks will do anything to keep the cash for their bonus's.

Crotchety Wednesday

Google announced today that it was the first day of Autumn.  We call it Autumn although Americans and others call it 'Fall.'  This as you know is because they cannot spell 'Autumn.'  In this part of the world the leaves have already begun to turn golden, that is 'golden' to those of a poetic nature and 'yellow' to those who are realists, and many leaves have already fallen from the boughs.  This off course was hastened by the rain and wind of recent days.  In some parts of Scotland this event has yet to be noticed as the snow, whatever name you may use for it, is still lying there freezing everybody.   

A glance at the online 'Daily Mail' this morning offers insights into the world in which we live.  The BBC's big story is the Volkswagen failure in which lies re the emissions will cost the company about £18 billion to put right and a loss of trust that may take years to rebuild.  The 'Mail' finds an Israeli soldier shooting a 'terrorist' more appropriate.  Later in the day this changes to a young 'volunteer' being ordered to drive a car bomb into a target in Syria.  
'Volkswagen' 'the peoples car' created during one of Hitlers frauds in the thirties was supposedly created to enable the German folk to have a car.  Instead the money paid weekly went to building the arms industry and once war came all thought of personal cars disappeared.  For years the German efficiency, reliability and trust has sold millions of cars worldwide, maybe that has ended now.  BMW must be worried.  The emissions may well have killed thousands in the UK alone, do I hear the sound of ambulance chasing lawyers ears pricking up?  It is indeed time cars were cleaned up they do harm us more than we acknowledge.
Three cars in the UK may have to be recalled, the Volkswagen themselves plus all Skoda and Seat models, thousands of cars!  The cost, the interference with drivers, the time, all this adds up and Ford and the rest must be laughing, while checking their own figures also!

Dave of course fills more space as yet more anger is expressed by Lord Ashcroft.  Yesterday we heard that while discussing bombing Syria or Libya the Chief of the General Staff General Richards seems to have reminded Dave that being a member of the Eton Cadet Force did not mean he was able to understand the military implications in the Middle East!  Today we hear of his travelling by Concorde, his rich childhood, how former PM's Thatcher and Major thought him 'shallow' and a supposed attempt by the KGB to recruit the young lad on his 'gap year.'  As a child he was entertained to a millionaires children's party with all the best stuff available, I was not invited. Hmmm, some of this sounds a bit exaggerated and yet the consideration that others thought him shallow is obviously true, because he is!

   

Much more serious is yet another attempt to make men guilty for women's behaviour.  Alison Saunders, theDirector of Public Prosecutions has made the outstanding statement that any woman who gets drunk, wakes in a strange mans bed, should then contact a 'rape counselor!'   Brilliant!  She makes use of him but as she has had a drink (how much is not mentioned) he is guilty!  This from the woman at the top of the prosecuting authority! 
I drive a car when drunk.  I crash and injure or kill someone. 
Who is responsible me or the person hit? 
If I am guilty because i was drunk and driving then a woman who gets drunk is also guilty, why can women not see this?  Who is to say the girl got drunk so she could lose inhibitions to have sex and then blame someone else?  Why is the man guilty?  Would this be rape?  No!  It would be drink enabling two people to act without due care and attention.
The women in the UK are determined to blame men for everything, women are never guilty, indeed there is a move afoot to close all women's prisons and never jail a woman again!  Men of course would be locked up.  I suppose this is 'equality.'
Rape may be a crime, drunkenness is a two way crime.  Wise women are careful what they drink and who they spend time with, honest women also do not blame the man for their actions.
When men are accused of such crimes they are named and I say that ought to stop now.  Woman who cry 'rape' and lie are not always named, that should end also.
Men these days are automatically considered criminals in this world, this is the result of middle class feminism and it is destroying the world.

Even worse news than any other is yet another attempt by the 'Bay City Rollers' to reform.   This group was seen by a friend of mine in 1969 and he considered them at that time to be the best commercial, that is 'Bubble Gum' group in the city.  By 1974 when they appeared in the charts there had been 35 members worked through the band and what became 'famous' was this bunch of wee neds rather than a commercial music combo.  How sad we thought, we of musical appreciation, to see what depths they have plummeted yet have now found thousands of wee girls buying their records and posting their pictures n the wall.
Of course it fell apart.  The two mainstays spent their time fighting each other, I said they were neds, the manager was later jailed for doing things to wee boys and one of their own followed him into prison for similar offences, I forget which.  One at least, which one I know not, they all look the same to me, spent much time as an estate agent in the city grumbling about parking tickets yet continued to park wherever he liked, another had kept the band going  (Les McKeown) around the world, and who really cares about the others.  So here they are once again reforming the band to cash in on the ageing women who once liked them.  Those grannies will be less interested in neds these days and more likely spending too much time killing the brain cells watching daytime TV, some may even have found a life! 
I will refrain from adding a YouTube video of the group for the sake of decency.

This irks me!  This is a local park and the other day a group of what we now call 'travellers' drove in and parked without any by or leave. There is one group of people who appear to be able to do what they like anywhere in this country and get off with it and it is such as these.  Here they have damaged the park, no doubt that will recover, but elsewhere they park on cricket or rugby pitches, local parks and private fields, sometimes causing great damage and leaving tons of muck behind and they pay nothing for it and the police can or will do little.  
I had them some years ago camping on the park opposite, some £2000 was spent clearing up after them.  It cost a great deal more for the council to bar their way after that.  Several unsavoury incidents arise when they appear and this lot can always hide behind their 'race!'  I wish I could.  It is time these folks, who have plenty of cash, just look at the vehicles and the caravans towing them, it is time they paid their way and were forced to pay towards each council when they park.  I suspect no government has the guts to take a stand here, few votes in this as they often park in what are already Conservative areas.  I may write to the MP as he is new to this and has to learn how bad this can be around this part of England.  I note that Ireland, where so many of them originate, has limited their areas of operation and possibly charged them money.  Maybe that is why so many are here living off the dole.

I'm  certainly a bit grumpy this morning...

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