Thursday Thought

As expected I awoke early this morning.  Listening to the dulcet tones of the shipping forecast being aired is a good way to come back into the world.  I would have preferred it to be nearer seven mind.  I therefore had no choice but to rise, waddle through and make breakfast with whatever was not yet past its sell by date, well not too far past anyway. 
My dim mind glanced through the online papers, each right wing nutbag proclaiming much joy over George Osbornes fiddled budget.   Each budget day the papers are the same.  The majority are ruled by the right wing barons who tell of Conservative budgets as wonderful events that bless the nation. Labour ones are miserable failures.  What passes for alternative views rambles on and makes little sense as they merely blame the Tories and ignore faults elsewhere.  It therefore becomes a requirement the day after a budget to listen carefully to the many experts who appear offering their tuppence worth to the world.
The net result usually means the lying creature has given money with one hand and taken money away with the other.  So it is with George yesterday.  An increase in the minimum wage u to £9 say the papers, actually it will not reach that high until 2020, which is five years away and a cut in tax credits (used to bump up the take home of those on minimum wage) which means for every pound George has given he has taken £1:50 or so away.  As always the Tory budgets appeal to the 'Daily mail' reader and panders to their beliefs, built on Tory lies in said paper, and ensures the lemmings will vote for the Tory's next time.  These are the people who voted to rid the taxpayer off the cost of nationalised industry, Gas , electric, water, trains, buses etc.  These are the very people who now happily pay through the nose for these industries because they no longer cost the taxpayer anything, the same taxpayer who is paying ten times the cost he would pay if they remained nationalised!
George fooled the famous IDS, he was celebrating for no good reason yesterday, possibly he understands how many will suffer because of this attack on the poorest?  I suspect he has pictures of Dachau on his office wall to cheer him up in the morning.
Another budget, another hoo-ha and the richest benefit with lower taxes, at least those that pay tax, unlike the owner of the 'Daily Mail' who has not paid tax for many years.   Housing benefit cuts will lead to homelessness, other cuts will cause many problems to which George answers "Get a job" or "Get a better job" and this from a man who has never had one? He certainly never worked for the minimum wage, never had to find accommodation from a grasping Tory landlord, and never lost his job becasue the boss would not pay the new minimum wage.
The 'Toffs' rule us today and call themselves 'One nation Conservatives.'

 

Aye, right!

I went back to bed after this.

Sometimes I canny understand the selfishness of wimmin!  Here is this one, living with a nice, kind, thoughtful man who looks after her every need and yet when eh has some spare time to play a video game with his pal she interrupts him and I suspect demands he speak to her, in spite of him being busy.  
How does a normal lad of today deal with such a woman?  He puts a few sedatives in her drink and lets her sleep until midday the next day that's what.  How kind, thoughtful and caring.  Did she appreciate the sleep, did she thank him for his concern, did she not feel blessed that by sleeping and keeping her mouth shut he and his pal could finish this important game?  No, not this lass, she ran to the police!  Tsk!  Can a man not get any peace these days?  No, the nasty judge fined him Euros 500.

News from the north east of England includes a 23 year old who saw a 6 year old kick an old man's walking stick.  When the 23 year old told him he was was told to "F off" by the kid.  he then went to a shop, bought a bar of soap and stuck it in the kids mouth.  
The child is known to be 'out of control' probably benefited from his experience.  He will not be so rash next time.  Would you believe the court took the kids side?  Mum says the sentence, a conditional discharge plus costs, was insufficient.  I think he should take the soap to mum or make the bint look after her son.  I suspect dad will not be available to do so.

England are apparently playing cricket against Australia somewhere or other.  Did they not do this last week, or the week before?  Does anyone care?  A man throws a ball and another man attempts to hit it with a big stick while all around a dozen other men stand idly by watching.
Would digging up the grass and building social houses for the old, the poor and those disabled by life not be a better use of such areas I wonder....?


Time to go back to bed again, that's twice already today.  Aint life grand?

Tired...

What day is sleep escapes me, my knees hurt, I keep seeing museums in front of my eyes and the book is not getting written no matter how many words I add.  I ache, weight increases (possibly because of too many 'yum yums') and I am soooo tired.  I worked late attempting to sell stuff at the museum, four birthday cards and a jar of sweets or two!  I reckon talking to the visitors wore me out.  Lovely discussions but they do go on and I was groaning as much as my knees were.

I note the chancellor has offered up a budget, I will look into this tomorrow when I awake, about ten, and see how much the poor will suffer and how his friends will benefit.  Not that I'm cynicalyou understand.... 

Good night...

Searching but not Finding

Earlier today I went searching for one of these locks pictured above.  This lock usually resides at the bottom of an inner door but was dunted by a man in a mobile disabled scooter a while back and has been wanting fixed ever since.  Nothing was done as it is an inner door and only opens in summer when the weather is like this (and I should indicate that tomorrow is again stotting rain!) and therefore is rarely used.  Howver the other day it was 'suggested' that I go to B&Q and get another.
You all know what a woman's 'suggestion' is like..... 

So off I trundled this lunchtime on the Free Bus along with some badly dressed school girls on much needed fashion shopping trips to the out off town shopping emporium.  The bus stops at the far end from B&Q, that's B&Q way down there hidden behind the trees, cars, trolleys and confused women attempting to get large boxes from said trolleys into car boots (I kept going!), so I had to walk all the way back and down through the car park to the store.
Taking my broken lock in hand I approached two attractive young female members of the B&Q staff gossiping discussing work behind the checkout and enquired.  "Do you possess one off these," asked I, "Which isn't broken?"
"er, umm, er..."  They began muttering that they had never seen one before and one pointed me in the direction of the appropriate aisle.  Here I, along with several other lost souls, searched aisle 35 back and forth and while discovering dozens of locks, padlocks, bolts and the like I noted that they were all completely different from mine.  "Hmmm thought I, this could be an out of date, not likely to be found anywhere type lock."  You canny say I'm not quick.  Well OK you can.
I glumly made my way back to the door when the dark haired young lady previously encountered asked if I found what I was looking for.  I informed her of my failure and she tried to encourage me in my endeavour with appropriate words of wisdom and sent me on my way.  Two excellent members of staff Mr B&Q and don't you forget it.

I pondered my options and considered my knees.  I could walk through the clothing side of the shopping centre where overpriced outfits are reduced to far too much money for anyone with half a brain (I note the free bus was a double-decker implying the centre expects lots of kids soon during the holidays) and having pondered and considered I remembered the Screwfix establishment on the other side and headed in that direction.  Sadly I wandered through the shops where I was tempted to look in and be depressed by the price tags.  However I still managed to buy three T-Shirts (size fat) from an attractive capable young lass I that Sports Shop that thinks it owns Rangers FC.  Actually now I think about it, it does!  These T-Shirts I buy there because I find they shrink less than the majority I buy.  The girl pointed to the store magazine as they always do 'Sports Something' it was called.  As I hung my belly over the counter I asked if she thought I was the 'sporty type.'  I then noticed a headline on the magazine which read 'Burn Fat' so maybe she was just making a point?

Onwards I walked blocking out the sun from folks sitting on benches my knees asking where we were going and reminding me by the creaking noises they make that this was not a clever idea fatso!  I went anyway, I had promised to get this bolt/lock thing and the man in the know was in Texas showing off his Landrover to jealous Yanks so he was no help and I had to check out this place.  I asked the kid on the desk (was he 18?) about the lock.  He did not recognise the lock and did not lose his confused somewhat dull expression but as is their way looked up his catalogue and searched for me.  Pages were turned, turned back, turned again, and he agreed with me it was not to be found.  I agreed even though I could not see what he was looking at as it was upside down and small.  Screwfix work on an 'Argos' style basis where you search the catalogue, fill in the form and they get it from the store.  Excellent idea if you know what you look for.  The kid looked to his elder colleague also wearing the same dull expression who made it clear he had no knowledge of the lock.  Only later did I realise they were 'Argos' like in their knowledge of the goods.  "Hmmm, thought I, this lock is out of date or maybe the world is fighting against us."  

 
I headed to Wicks around the corner and made my way wearily there.  The lassies there were welcoming and helpful, one leading me round at far too far a pace for my knees to where the locks were to be found all proudly displayed in their little bags or plastic wrappings.  None were suitable, none were what I looked for and none had ever passed the ken of the girls before.  At least theyw ere helpful.  As elsewhere all on display had been modern efficient locks of recent date much loved by the tradesmen and DIY folks who use such stores, they were no good to me, someone famed for having the DIY skills of a chimpanzee on Expresso coffee and a pint of vodka!  
Home beckoned and I turned in that direction.  I should remind listeners that the sun was shining through the clouds and the temperature was around 70ish and I was walking not sitting on the free bus.  Not only was I wearing my wee jacket that was fine earlier when the wind was blowing when I ventured out the house but now the wind died and I was lumbered with a bag with T-Shirts and a 'Screwfix' catalogue.  This was brought just in case we need one next time, and there will be a next time.  My knees ached, my feet complained and now I had run out of ideas, also it was so far to walk back for the free bus I decided to walk on myself.  Stupid man! I headed home avoiding the builders in their transit vans as they charged out of the gates to the stores I had left (do they have brakes?) and made for home.

My brain was befuddled before I set out and now it was frying away quite happily.  There is an ironmongers in town, too far for my knees my knees said creaking loudly but it seemed good tome to try for it.  As I struggled up the slope into town the free bus raced past me giving me a smug grin as it did so.  This added to the realisation that the walk into town where the ironmongers were situated was further than I realised.  The bus's grin pleased me no end and I informed the bus of my considered opinion especially as it stops quite close to my destination.  There was no-one there to listen, the bus certainly didn't.  The ironmongers when I reached there are often helpful and naturally were of little use.  I didn't even consider Tesco over the road as I would have to climb the stairs to be disappointed , and I made my way home with a broken lock and broken knees.
I grumbled when after dowsing my fat hulk in cold water I stood on the weighing machine to see how much weight had been lost by walking the hundred miles back and forth.  NOTHING!  I still stood at 16 stone!    

Now, looking through the Screwfix catalogue I find 'Flush Bolts' that look exactly like the ones I have, apart from the difference.  Bah!  How come kiddo did not notice?  Lets not go there.  


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Sunday...

Sunday draws to a close and I am glad.
I could not get out this morning as typical July weather let it pour with rain and offering me nothing but a soaking.  Yesterday I left my overheating laptop to wander outside and began to burn after thirty minutes in the sunshine, today I would suffer rust!  Aussies don't know how lucky they are.
I took the Thrush picture yesterday after cycling around for half an hour to give my muscles a chance to ache, they took that chance very well.  I walked across the park in a vain attempt to loosen up and all that was loosened was my brain cells.  Later after rewriting (again) my latest volume I went out to get the sun.  The birds had gone by that time, hiding under the leaves in the trees I suspect.
I did get out this evening again on the bike.  Trundling, late to avoid people laughing, up the road to see how unfit I was.  The effort yesterday and tonight has done wonders, for the undertaker who smiled knowingly at me as I passed at least.

A quick glance at the media shows the Greeks have given a rude gesture to the European money men, that shortly George Osborne will give a lot of help to his rich friends in his next budget, that the benefit scroungers that are the royals have unbiblically christened yet another child, and that meaningless activities such as wimmens football and tennis are given far too much room.  Nothing of importance is found there these days.
I do note however that lots of good pictures of steam trains have been posted on facebook, that the Forth Bridge has been made a Unesco world heritage site, the sixth in Scotland, and that the football season has not yet started.

When I have finished the rewriting I might find something worth writing about, right?  

  

British Taste in Food & the US.

One of our attractive young ladies wondered if indeed Curry was Britain's favourite food.  To my knowledge this was the case however I did a quick look around and found a surprising result. 
  
According to the 'About Food' website whoever they are, they investigated a survey in the best things about Britain and listed the ten most popular foods.  These were:-

 The Top 10 Foods and Drinks

    Bacon sandwiches
    Roast dinners
    A Cup of Tea
    Fish and Chips
    Yorkshire Pudding
    Full English Breakfast
    Cornish pasties
    Strawberries and cream
    Teatime Treat, Crumpets
    Beer

However according to PAPA The Pizza, Pasta  & Italian Food Association their research indicates that PIZZA is the most popular foodstuff.  No1 in most restaurants, No2 in supermarkets and No 4 in takeaways. Hmmm.  Britons spending over £4 billion on Pizza each year.  By the way did you know we are one of the fattest nations in the world ?

Now I didn't notice any date on those two but over at Pocket Cultures a 2009 item offered their top ten favourite foods, with pictures!   They were honest enough to indicate that UK versions of foreign foods have little in common with foreign food found in foreign countries.

Top Ten:-

Spag Bol 
Roast Beef dinner
Chili Corne Carne
Lasagne
Sheperds Pie
Meat/fish Stir Fry
Beef Casserole
Macaroni Cheese
Toad in the Hole
Beef/Fish/veg Curry

Hmmm recently  The Daily Mail, that august representative of all that is good honest journalism ("snigger") tells of a survey done by 'Discover Cornwall Food & Drink Guide,' Cornwall being the county down in the south west of Englandshire.
They offer a top forty, and Fish & Chips, popular in seaside towns, comes first.  No curry, lasagne or the like seen in this UK tourist survey, hmmm...

Top Forty

1. Fish and chips
2. Roast dinner with Yorkshire pudding
3. Full English breakfast
4. Bacon butties
5. Apple crumble
6. Strawberries and cream
7. Bangers and mash
8. Cream tea
9. Shepherd's pie
10. Crumpets
11. Ham, egg and chips
12. Sausage rolls
13. Cornish ice cream
14. Baked beans
15. Victoria sponge
16. Toad in the hole
17. Sticky toffee pudding and custard
18. Cornish pasty
19. Steak and kidney pie
20. Pork pie
21. Bakewell tart
22. Ploughman’s lunch
23. Chips and gravy
24. Rhubarb and custard
25. Scampi
26. Prawn cocktail
27. Mushy peas
28. Marmite
29. Cheese and pickle on crackers
30. Scotch eggs
31. Cornish fudge
32. Spotted Dick
33. Irish stew and dumplings
34. Chelsea buns
35. Eccles cakes
36. Pea and ham soup
37. Cucumber sandwiches
38. Haggis and tatties
39. Cockles and mussels
40. Jellied eels

The blatantly racist 'She Knows' in 2013 offers a list of 'England's' favourite foods yet calls itself 'She knows UK!'  Imperialism dies hard.

Top Ten:-

Fish & Chips
Pizza
Chinese Stir Fry
Chicken Tikka Masalla
Spag Bol
Thai Green Curry
Roast Dinner
Bangers & Mash
Sweet & Sour Chicken 
Shepherds Pie

It soon becomes clear that some surveys find what they wish to find, and others find that foreign muck of various sorts is now part and parcel of the British diet.  Takeaways used by well of rich people, not that I am jealous in any way just because the 'Balti Night' is probably the best curry house in the world, rich people by Fish & Chips, Curry, Chinese, Pizza and Kebabs from takeaways more than any other foodstuff.  Not that any other come to mind as Burgers are not really food are they?  What do Britons eat, anything and far too much thereof the greedy fat gits! 

Oh this is interesting, this site is intended to help foreign students understand Britain and this lists the typical British foodstuffs.  very instructive and less biased than others.  Kaplan

Rejoice! Rejoice!  Today the Free World celebrates the loss of the American Colonies.  Where once England thought it owned North America just like it thinks it owns Scotland the US broke free and became a mixed up nation all by itself.  However the people walked away from imprisonment to an uncaring Westminster and we can all learn from this.
May the good Americans enjoy the day and may the English immigrants avoid saying what they think even though it is very tempting!  

Another Exhibition Opens

A quick snap of the applause at the opening of another exhibition.  This one concerns the district during the war and how the people reacted.  very interesting, bits of old B.17s, Yank uniforms, diaries, notebooks and memories of those who grew up at the time.  We even had one German POW who stayed on after the war and married as did one of the evacuees who also was there.  This area is better than bombed London right enough.  Lovely to talk to so many people, naturally I landed myself with some work, and I was exhausted listening and talking to people.  Normally I just ignore folks.   I did begin the evening with a glass of Elderberry wine.  I mentioned that it was somewhat weak and later was informed that had been the water jug!  How weak can you get?
Walking home in the still evening air I passed the rear of the local takeaways. The aroma of curry, the best in the area, now will not leave me and I am sitting here hungry again.  It's no fair!
Now I am taking my 16 stone hulk to bed and find something mindless to read.
And why is it no-one phones and the one night I am out the message is left on the ansafone?
Bah!

I'm Sitting on the Roof

This is my view.  I'm sitting on the roof howling at the moon.
I had to struggle to get up here, the clamber up through the trap door into the attic space was not easy without a ladder.  Once there I discovered there was no window so I had to  work my way into the loft of my neighbour and clamber through the loose tiles he does not know about, well he does now.  From there I made my way carefully, very carefully, to the gable end and forced myself up slowly hanging on the newly pointed chimney stack.  It's a bit less pointed now by the way.
So here at last I sit, howling at the moon.
The less well educated amongst you may wonder what the need for such adventure may be, the knowledgeable will understand. 
I'm old.
Today I became 64 years of age.
That's old.
As I sit on the roof my life flashes past me, well it used to flash now it dawdles and takes ages, a bit like me walking down the road.  All those years of promise, well " I promise to pay the bearer £1 or £5 or £10," as it were.  All have come to nothing.  One nameless woman on FB referred to me heartlessly as Granddad!  Another asked if the firemen had put out the fire caused by candles!!!
Woe, woe and thrice woe.
It could drive me to drink but I canny reach the 'Old Peculiar' in the fridge from here.

Woe! Woe! Woe!

A Strange Day

Somewhat tired from not eating properly last night and a bit dim much of the day, well until I ate properly.  Funny how eating affects you innit?  Then in the afternoon, in sweltering heat some 30 degrees (that's 86 to those who do things properly) I had to attend a funeral.  
I avoided the actual internment as I left that for the close family and friends but I was amazed at the church when I found it full to overflowing.  I had to stand all the way through.  The lady at the centre of it all was of course praised for her life and as she has now gone to join Jesus her saviour the majority could rejoice also.  The hardest thing was talking to the husband of almost 50 years who is left behind.  Happy as he is that she is with her Lord he now has the great difficulty of trying to live with that great hole in his life.  He will feel it badly once everybody has left and he faces life daily alone.  Sadly nobody can help with that one.
However as at such occasions families met with one another, sometimes the first meeting since the last death/marriage/divorce and long afterwards the buffet was being chomped while tea and cold iced drinks were doing the rounds.  A death in the family and so much laughter!  I didn't wish to mention it but there were one or two who probably should have stayed behind!  
Some funerals are so sad.  People without God die and all sorts of music and chat in their memory is offered and no-one really wants to face the reality of death and the consequences.  Today most could do this knowing they will meet again, a few would not.
I however chatted to those I could and attempted to eat as much buffet as possible but was pushed aside by the crush.  So I got home to fish & chips in the heat, not a good idea but one must eat something.  I have work to do and so little has been done this past few days.  
Ah well, I'll do it tomorrow...

Thoughts For the Day...

Questions must be asked about Ladybirds.  
This one here landed on the window and began to climb up the woodwork.  Why?  
The creature has wings so why not fly to the top rather than slowly struggle upwards on your feet,  especially when every so often you fall back again? 
Does he know where he is going?  What is he looking for?  Does he think the white painted woodwork on the window will feed him perhaps?  
Some beasties may be colour blind I suppose but if so why do plants/flowers have such a variety of colour?  
On another subject why do fly's come in the window and hover around the lampshade? Is it because it is er, cooler in the shade?  Why not stay outside in the wind?  Why fly in straight lines changing every so often to different directions?  Don't they get dizzy?  Bluebottles fly in desperate to get out again, why not fly's?

I have been working too hard, you can tell....

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Sunday Surmise

It has been difficult to see what is happening in the world when trapped behind a laptop.  I found several urgent messages on facebook and Twitter telling me to listen/watch/read/do a variety of activities hours after they had passed by.  The sun shone brightly for two very hot days and much as I wished to enjoy being burnt I missed it and sat in the gloom inside instead.  Today a normal British summer has arrived, cloud, rain and warmth making everyone sweaty and still daft men walk around in T-shirt & shorts expecting the sun to arrive.  These English know nothing!

 

A big fuss has been made by the media re the latest Islamic Killer.  Many Brits dead and lots wounded.  A somewhat difficult situation to face I would say.  The media enjoy this sort of thing, lots of pictures of crying women, dead bodies and people covered in blood.  They care not a whit about them of course but it is a good story.  Terrible indeed as this act is, let's not forget the man beheaded in France also, but in the great scheme of Islamic murders this is quite small really.  If however it endangers 'US' then it is awful.

Almost daily we see such events, low down in the papers if mentioned at all, occurring in Pakistan, Iraq and elsewhere.  The 'outrage' that arises each time is great yet no-one bothers about the people who suffer similarly elsewhere, that is after all their problem!   Thousands die each year in Pakistan because of a failure of leadership and political intrigues.  I wonder where the weapons come from?  ISIS, or is it ISIL this week?   IS still behead spies, throw gays off roofs and abuse sex slaves by the hundred daily.  I wonder if this could be related in any way to the attacks on Saddam Hussein a  wee while back?  Could it be the west (yes Messrs Bush and Blair I mean you!) sending troops into Iraq, sacking the army & police, rushing out again after killing thousands have some responsibility for leaving a failed state with no security and three major sectarian divides to fight over?  Just asking like.

The Muslim mentality is to kill opponents and claim Koranic justification (though how ISIL can do this beats me) and therefore justify themselves.  It can be no surprise that those not sharp enough may understand that their duty is to kill also and therefore such easily led people will commit atrocities.  Not all are stupid mind, many are clever people who wish to 'do the right thing' and fall for 'radical' teachings.  Truthfully we were all the same when younger but from a different angle.  Just give thanks you were not brought up Muslim, you might be that chap with a gun, the dead chap as he now is.

   

I have asked in several places why people think sticking your willie up a man's arse makes you proud?  Can shoving a willie up a man's backside be 'love?'  What next, marrying sheep?  
This is not love.

A quick glance at the media tells me the Greeks are once again at the 'eleventh hour,' the 'Last Chance Saloon,' the 'Final Decision,' once again.  That has been the case for a year or two now as far as I can see.  This does not surprise me as the majority of the rich did not pay tax, their cash is all in Swiss banks and they care nothing for the nation (are they members of the Conservative Party I wonder?) and the rest of the nation have little to do but overcharge tourists and riot at football matches.  Greek recent history has been much troubled, wars, political strife and now this.  Classical Greece, much lauded in the west, spent much of their time killing one another and abusing slaves and little boys.  Our democracy was built on this they say but I suggest Smith and Janner may have gone too far with that.  What will the outcome be?  Certainly David Cameron will not take any blame but he will pontificate about it. 

Scottish football once again is pondering the idea of a 'Winter break' or indeed 'Summer football.'
Both ideas are daft.  For one the winter break may not coincide with the worst weather, which often arrives in February or April!  For another the restart often hinders teams getting back into form.  The idea of summer football keeps cropping up from folks who think playing in heat is a good idea.  Sadly as we had summer weather for two days this week and now it has rained on and off all day I wonder if such folks ever look out of their window?  My mother grumbled about the bad summer weather every year and I had to remind her she had seen well over 90 of such summers and still failed to realise that it it was always like this!  Keep Scottish football where it is, just rearrange the league set-up into something more appropriate and all will improve.


Now I'm back off to 1942.

Fraught Friday

I awoke this morning, this was a bit of a surprise to me.  I was somewhere else when I realised I was struggling to hold onto the ebbing dream that was preferable to the voice on the radio.  That voice was bringing the real world to me when I wanted whatever the dream, whatever that was all about. I canny mind what it concerned but the voice droning on about England's football team made me reach for the button and head to a more sensible voice.  
The dawn had come up like thunder, the sun was shining brightly and I took this picture as the clouds began to turn sunlight into night once again.  I confess it was a wee bit lighter than the picture shows.  Sun, sunlight, bright, not words heard about here very often.  Hot sunshine yesterday, very warm and 'close' today.  This canny go on, and it won't.

I have spent the day in WW2.  I had to reread, rewrite, rethink, and rewrite again and again and it is still not write right.  If I was hearing Vera Lynn singing one minute I was hearing  Heinkel Bombers passing over the next.  Interesting note from one young man who found himself on the roof of a bombed building.  The ladder had been moved, there were too few to go around, and as he worked on the repair from the previous night another bomber arrived, flying low in his direction.  Just imagine his thoughts as he watched this helplessly?  As it was it passed by and bombed harmlessly a garden further up.  His laundryman would have been busy I suspect.
So I have struggled through to 1942, not exactly finished with the previous years either, and now the bloody Yanks are pouring into the country!  "Got any gum chum" will be the cry for several years and not just from children!  Airfields are getting erected and soon dirty big aircraft will be either noisily heading for the east or on occasion failing to take off and crashing to earth.  A common enough happening but not spoken off during wartime.  The German Messerschmidt 109 killed more men in training than were ever lost in action.  
Nothing else has been done because of this.  I must have it ready by last Tuesday so I have not bothered with hoovering, cleaning or washing.  I think people might be beginning to notice.  There again the football does not begin to start until next week so I have got some time before then.  I might even finish this....

The 'land of the free' has decided by 5 to 4 that gay marriage is acceptable in law.  Quite how that works, nine unelected people deciding for a nation in which leadership is stopped by President or Congress vetoing one another fails to impress me.  Something clearly wrong, something that goes against common sense as well as the will of the God who created us being declared acceptable reveals the depth to which the west has sunk.
There is no equality here, marriage is only between one man and one woman committed for life, like it or not, and we know how hard that can be.  Pretending something is acceptable when it is not will only hurt those involved.  Truth sets us free, it is far from easy, but truth reaches the centre of our being and obeying truth brings life.  Jesus came to set us free from that which hinders life.  These decisions obstruct this.
The next step will be the attack on churches that rightly refuse.  The power of the gay mob has been quiet recently but soon it will dominate and persecute openly the Christian church.  Satanic inspired hate will fill the hearts of many, understanding dimmed and open persecution is round the corner.
Sadly, so is judgement from a higher court.  


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92 of them, plus...!

92 of them plus teachers arrived this morning.  Well behaved kids with several teachers and other who soon flocked into the shop.  These were joined by a group of people who today are referred to as having 'learning difficulties.' A stupid term when they mean, 'backward,' or 'mentally deficient.'  The thing today is to give a fancy name and pretend that makes it better rather than just look after them.  They are a type of group who often arrive with several excellent helpers.  Both they and the kids mixed well.  However this did not allow me much time to write as I was back and forward here and there when I should have been sat sitting in one place.  
When they moved into the shop the two thousand kids bought things and we were there well into the afternoon with them.  Almost at the last I managed to escape having written nothing and now canny walk right because of all the standing, running, walking I did.  I need a massage.  
All this when others were visiting, enquiring, asking questions and fixing the boilers.
I suspect the ten thousand wildebeest are happy at home explaining the Victorian life to their families and showing off their new possessions.  At least those not lost/broke/eaten/nicked.
Now I am free - until noon tomorrow. I may have to help when someone else is off.
When can I write...?
I'm knackered.

An Easy Life, Unless it Aint...

Bright and early this morning I awoke to the mellifluous sound of the Shipping Forecast.  Naturally I went back to sleep!  Later I entered the museum to a warm welcome, clearly somebody wanted something!  The day started at speed, a woman booking places for her child while the phone rang.  My colleague dealt with the attractive young mum while I very efficiently made a complete hash of the telephone system.  It went downhill from there on.  Had my young friend not turned up today I am not sure what mess would have been left.  Everything I touched went wrong.  Nothing new there you say.

At lunchtime when I head for home I realised the school party who had come dressed appropriately for 'Stone Age Man' lessons had not as yet come through the shop.  In fact they were fantastically well dressed, including one or two home made spears, a beard and an imitation Tarzan or two.  Brilliantly done up as always.  There were 45 of them supposedly so I willingly, because she said I was willing, offered to help.  This offer was easy to make as she had the large pair of scissors in her hand.

Before the two thousand kids arrived the other boss discussed the work I had done on the laptop.  "This," she said, "Was fine," and added "Except that has to come out, this go in, we need etc..."  And now I have lots of paperwork to read before amending the first draft and continuing on.  

Fine indeed, except by the time ten thousand kids, most of whom think eight items totaling £17:34p can be bought with the £5 they brought with them, have been dealt with I, like my female companion, the other having ran for the door when the kids appeared, sat drinking our tea and wondering how teachers cope.    

The teachers and assistants today I must say were good, as indeed were the kids, but it is a confusing experience and takes two and lots of concentration to get through it.  

Later a sweet smile mentioned that the man who does Wednesdays will not be there.  It added the regular girl is on holiday, "cough" said the sweet smile.  Just until 12 it purred.

Another smile turned into a smug grin when it added by the way the afternoon girl may not be in as family illness etc....  So tomorrow instead of being stuck behind this machine I am stuck behind a desk there.  I better take this with me and fail to get anything done. 

WHAT? 

I now find there is another school in tomorrow - NINETY FIVE KIDS!!!

I may not post tomorrow....

Work, Work, Work....

This has been my view for the last 48 hours.  I have been doing a bit for the museum which must be in tomorrow, and it is not nearly finished.  My eyes are looking at one another, my mind does not know where it is and I did not catch up on other things till long past the time they had gone.  I am not used to this work lark these days.  
Writing things, when they have to be accurate and right, is not easy as it means going back over it time and again, fixing the mistakes, wondering where bits have gone to and asking why a paragraph is twice repeated in different places!  This is just the revised draft, and two thirds have still to see a preliminary scribble.  
Here I had no interruptions, except when going back and forward to remove that red line that claims I canny spell.  That takes a lot of time I can tell you.  I would like the machine to auto correct misspelt words (Yankees don't like the word 'spelt' either) but this means I would have to go over every word and take out the things the machine puts in wrongly.  
So tomorrow she will scratch my eyes out and grumble "This is not what I wanted," before reaching for the whip.  Not much change from normal for her then...

He thought it funny to sit there and laugh while I attempted to print some pages off.  Not only did it fail as the black ink had run off.  This required the removal of a thousand items to open the printer so as to insert the new one, which luckily was in the drawer.  This complicated operation, once every thing had been returned almost to its place, went wrong as all the pages printed off instead of just the seven I wanted.  I may need a new cartridge soon!  I think that bird may be a Kookaburra and not a Starling judging by the way he laughed at me.

I shot him!

Joyous Saturday...

Lack of sleep does not aid concentration.  I noted this as I rose at 5:30 this morning.  I tried to stay snug as a bug beside the other bugs but could not sleep.  I rose, fed my fat face and began to work on the latest museum project.
Obviously I had to run round for the veg from the stall so I did not do much, but I had started.  Once all was done I started in earnest and got on well for a good while.  Then I had to prepare for the museum as there was a skill shortage today with folks skiving off.  Only two of us were left.
This might have been a problem had we been busy but as I made off I snapped this pic from the park.  A Cycle in the Park event for kids was on taking them away from us.  A variety of activities including climbing this wall, even if you need a helper to go with you, was available and by the cheery sounds it appeared to be a success.   

So expecting a quiet time I took the laptop with me to continue my scribbling and right enough it was quiet.  I set up the machine, found my place, cogitated and a man walked in.  He was searching for a leaflet on an model railway exhibition and sought advice on getting there, he avoided parting with money.  I returned to work.  Working my way through 1942 while distracted by rescuing the goods outside the door from the rain the weather man said would not arrive until midnight was not the easiest way to work.  However I did begin to make sense of the mess that glared in front of me when the boss flew in, grabbed items for the reunion he was speaking at and flew out asking me to open the door that was already open!
I worked happily for a time until a man arrived.  A good man, an interesting man but a man who talked.  Normally this is good, interesting and worth listening to but he went into every detail of his subject, a subject I already knew a bit about.  I changed the subject he talked about that in detail, I ventured another, he talked about that also.  I pointed him towards the books, he talked about them also!  
It was about this time I realised my tiredness was catching up with me, I had not got my siesta at lunchtime and it was showing.  We discussed, at length, things of great moment, he knew a lot, and eventually he went on his way happy.  A man I was glad to meet but the lassie had come out eventually, putting down her ipad and boyfriend on the other end to help.  It didn't work and he soon left but he bought something before he went, and we discussed this also!  
Only one lovely woman came near the end but by then I was losing thread as 1943 approached and my little mind was unsure how to proceed after the first paragraph.  I closed the machine and chatted to the visitor which was easier as she was in a rush.  She did manage to buy something mind, lovely lass.

Now, while the rest of the staff attend various celebratory parties I sit here in bed scribbling again wishing to continue work but have to write this first.  Was it worth it....?

Transport

I was making my way home yesterday when I saw this vehicle outside the register office.  A young couple were getting married and it appears this was their transport.  I took the foto as I guess this was a Studebaker car from the late 50's.  I had a second hand somewhat tarnished 'Dinky Toy' Studebaker model when considerably younger and I liked it and the car has stuck in my mind, although the car itself did not.  Someone will know the make of car most likely.

   
High above today I noticed this fellow noisily soaring around.  This was unusual as no planes of this type (Tiger Moth?) appear in our skies.  Around this time of year those who restore or just store and maintain such creations often wheel them out for the many air shows that appear relatively near by (If you possess a car).  Possibly he was on his way to/from one such, possibly he was just out for a run.  He did not offer me a lift.

I am writing abut WW2 again and my eyes have already gone off in different directions and I have only reached 1942.  This is supposed to be a shirt item!  Vast amounts to do yet and it is required NOW!


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Wimmen on Bikes!

Today the second stage of the 'Women's Tour' set of from our wee town.  Racing against the wind but in warm sunshine the girls would run about Essex, up the hill at Halstead I can hardly walk up and make their way to Clacton on Sea, and good luck to them there.  I managed to get out in time to watch them hurtle down the hill preceded by a vast number of Police Motor Cycles and support vehicles, all 'Skoda' by the way. 

The difficulty with such events as this is that you stand in one place and the bikes rush past.  This is great when they do a roundabout route but in these races they flash past and are gone.  This happened here.  I took this pic when attempting to focus and then just pressed the button.  Quite tolerable I think, but who wishes to cycle around a hundred miles in a race?

When the race began these kids from some organisation or other precede the riders.  Supported by police escort they wended their way ahead down the main road and once they got half way down the hill they parked up.

Being female becoming screaming banshees was something they managed with little difficulty. They were joined by a school filling the area opposite in making much noise as the girls cycled past.

What a great incentive this is for the kids.  A day out of school, learning cycling, one of the great free enjoyments (once you by a bike), a super way to get around, safer for girls of all ages making their way home at night rather than walking on pavements, and sheer fun as well as useful.  I should point out at this point one of the young lassies working on a project at the museum came off her bike and fractured her elbow!  We still make her work, occupational therapy!

Last year the 'Tour de France' on it's foreign week came within two miles of here.  Too far for me to cycle especially when you see more on TV.  Naturally when they riders passed up the road the TV went to an advert break!  I am not sure what channel this lot were on as I was too busy wandering around to look for them.  Then I had to visit the museum for orders.

Motorbikes are made for covering the 'Tour,'  these powerful beasts wend their way between the array of support cars in front and behind, each with a specific purpose.   It was difficult to count them as about twenty raced past at one go, mostly police blocking roads as the race passed by.

Not all had to race around, some just blocked roads and 'controlled' quietly.   For motorcycle police such events must be a great part of their duties, often bringing close contact with the public and this could be enjoyable, usually.

 

Back at the aftermath of the start the crowds thinned and the police there were dealing face to face with the public also.  As I passed several were in discussion re the serious crimes in the town, serious enough to them 'anti-social behaviour from neds' being heard as I passed as well as late night weekend drunkenness.  Now as this area has a very low crime rate it is clear the fear of crime is worse than the crime.  Wary of late night town centre when pubs close is important but not if you are indoors watching telly Missus.  Young neds are indeed a pest but few complaining actually get bothered by them.  It happens and it is not nice, but the fear makes it worse than it is. 

I have never seen so many police in the town.  Events bring thieves with them so it makes sense, crowd control also is required, however I suspect there was little to bother the representatives of the law.  This chap may have filled in the time but does not appear to have caused them much worry.  This in many peoples mind is what policing ought to be about, meeting the public, showing a presence, and deterring as well as catching thieves.  However 'austerity,' the Conservative Parties watchword of the day meant that cuts had to be made therefore more police are in cars and less than ever wandering town centres.  Something wrong somewhere.

This was a good day for the town and I suspect more such events will now be seen passing through here.  It would be beneficial if the next one went straight past my window instead of making me get up out of the house! 

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