We were chatting, my friend and I, about disappearing people. As you age, slowly in my case, you note people once common have disappeared. The faces that arrived on the TV screen in the late 50's when a vast 'Ferranti' model appeared in our living room only appear today when their death is announced. Footballers once fit grown men seen running around the field at top speed are now noted in club get togethers as small, fat men long past retirement age. This is made worse when your great niece, now 19 years of age, posts comments on facebook grumbling that folks born in the 1990's are getting old! OLD! Your 19 woman!
Perception alters as age passes by. Once we looked to the future 'out there' with some degree of trepidation but a lot of excitement. Now we see cynicism and despair at the world. Once hope filled us and opportunities could be rejected for another would be along in a minute, now the only thing that takes a minute is the trying to remember why we opened this cupboard or went through to the other room, sometimes it takes much longer. The good side is that we may no longer care to get excited about trivial happenings, rock music does not make us 'headbang' for long a we suddenly forget what we are doing, football does not have the same grip as we accept after all that we are not indeed going to make it, and fashionable occurrences bore rather than excite. We have no faith in the press or TV, no trust in any politician of whatever party and consider ourselves able to distinguish most cons that arrive via the web. Well usually anyway!
As my mother aged all her friends, both family and close friends from round about passed on. Quite how she saw this I am unclear, her attitude was 'you just have to get on with it,' and so she did. That generation always just 'got on with it.' Being a blether as she was she could always get new friends willing to gossip about nothing for long periods so she managed well I suspect. Yet all her family, many of their offspring, including one of her daughters, passed away. All her friends she and my father made left us, she was the last one standing and remained so until she reached 94. How did she view all this?
I note myself how footballers I watched have died, TV newsreaders and 'personalities,' many of whom had little or no personality that I could detect, pass away from us year by year. Familiar faces are the background to our lives whether we like them or are indifferent to them, yet when they go we see a gap opening. Our minds view is amended and reality comes in.
I can recall noting men in the 50's and 60's, flat caps, overcoats and usually haggard faces. Today such men rarely have hats, dress as fashionably as men in their 20's and often, like me, look 25 (well maybe 35). Few appear to be 'old' and as one said to me "In my outlook I am still 25!" and I knew what he meant. This is however not how I look to outsiders, any young woman using the term 'Granddad' in my presence reveals how they view me! I have a photo f my grannie dating from 1926 in which she looks ancient. She was in fact the same age as my sister is now 76 and she, while ancient, like all women these days fails to look it, he older husband however is beginning to look his age.
We have seen many family members near and far pass on and in the next ten years a great deal more will go, my view of the world will change again, especially as the remaining TV and radio personalities disappear, yet I suspect I will plow on. I have Jesus who cares for me in spite of it all and this alters my view considerably. It does not however stop ageing nor the loss of familiar figures in the world around us keeping our world view together.
This is now an aged example of what ruins cities, towering glass blocks! If memory serves me right this is 'Millbank Tower,' a 60's monstrosity that houses rich folks in their vast office space with views over the sprawling city, unless of course it rains.
London of course has not only been filled with such glass horrors but has taken such creations a step further by adding daftness to invention. Buildings now bend, are mistaken for cheese graters or just sit like a pile of abandoned glass like the 'Shard!' All this because of a steel frame inside. That frame allows the builder to go high and wrap his building in glass or brick. It was once just the money mad Americans who filled their cities with such heaps, mostly built with brick. That nice attention seeker Mr Trump own one or two in New York, the 'Empire State Building' I think it is called, a construction as hollow inside as he himself appears to be.
Would you believe that somewhere in Yorkshire (or is it Lancashire) in the distant past a Mill owners began this type of building. Memory fails to remember the details but by using such a steel frame, well Iron in his case, he created a mill six stories high, powered by water at first but later by steam. This was the forerunner of all these strange sights that litter our world today. Rather typical that it was someone from that part of the world to begin it, don't ya think?
This is me trying to earn money for Christmas. Now why would I be thinking about Christmas when we are still in Autumn and it is only half way through October? I am thinking about Christmas because 'Selfridges,' that bastion of greed and selfishness has revealed their Christmas window displays today!
IT'S OCTOBER!
In the early eighties I worked for this company. Operating from the warehouse in Paddington I spent a delightful three years being driven around London delivering parcels until I stupidly agreed to go inside the vast warehouse and work myself into the ground for eight hours a day there. Luckily I broke my leg and after nine months was transferred to the vaster accounts office where futility and self serving was a daily occurrence. Not the worst job I have ever done but foolishly I remained for a couple of years when I ought to have ran for it and found decent folks to work with elsewhere. Stupidity is of course my main talent so I remained.
One thing was clear when it comes to money grabbing this store knows all the tricks and one of them is Christmas. The Santa Grotto is always busy with long queues forming, and if the grotto is placed badly these queues hold up the whole store. Just remembering the crowds makes me shake inside. How lovely it was trundling around London reminding the driver that he ought to stop at red lights, so much better than the closet that was the office space. The space was OK but it was full of people and a Kalashnikov was considered a suitable item, in my mind at least! Oh move on quickly...
Well it's nearly over. In a few weeks we will know if the Americans have been stupid enough to elect Donald Trump as President! Only the USA can land themselves in this kind of mess. Other nations have political systems which ensure politicians stand for election, none ask rich rabblerousers to do so. Trump appeals to the worst in the US stirring up hate and fear like no-one else, appealing to those who feel far from government and appealing to the All American myth, whichever way the people choose to believe it. Policies? There appear to be none, talent, none either, actual desire to do the job? None! l think he stood for a joke, an attempt to snub those who snub him and like Boris Johnson and David Cameron over here it went wrong and now he may well end up as President!
What is the alternative? Hilary! At first site she is obviously able to do the job, she saw it as wife of a President, believes she ought to have had it last time, and has experience failing miserably worldwide before. All the required skills are there. The trouble is much of the US hate her. Some disagree with her policies, many disagree with her. So far little in the way of rational reasons why have emerged suffice to say that is the situation.
So which way will it go? The only one laughing is Putin.
In another lifetime I wandered around Edinburgh looking for photographs. Having been brought up there for around twenty or so years I discovered on the occasions I returned that there was nothing to photograph. This is because you do not see what is all around you when you live there, it is just there! You learn about the history at school to some degree but what is in front of the nose is more important especially when in the teen years. The 'Castle,' the 'Royal Mile,' the 'Palace of Holyrood house' all these existed but were just there. The same thing happened to me when spending a night in Bath, the town not the tub. A great deal of Bath is built in similar style to Georgian Edinburgh that I did not 'see' it, it was just there! It therefore surprised me one day to realise that Edinburgh is full of photo opportunities. Suddenly one day I noted the architecture was different from London, the sky bluer, at least one day a month when the clouds part to let it shine,and history was and is all around!
The 'Merkat Cross' pictured at the top is historical. In days of yore, when Scotland was as it should be independent, civic announcements were read out by the 'Herald' of the 'Lord Lyon King of Arms.' These were announcements concerning laws passed by the Scots Parliament situated on the further side of St Giles Kirk from the Merkat Cross itself. Today Parliamentary Elections are still announced by the Herald from this Merkat Cross. Proclamations, edicts, burnings and punishments were also carried out at the cross. In 1565 Sir James Tarbet was tied to the cross and pelted with eggs for saying the Mass which had been banned several years before. Murderers, rebels and outlaws were hanged, some after being broken before hand at the cross. Life for the criminal was not very kind in those days.
This Cross is a Victorian version of the original. That is thought to have originated in the late 1300's and stood out in the main thoroughfare, later it was moved to the side and in 1760's it was demolished. I suspect Sir Walter Scott while not responsible for the Cross was a guide and an encourager for those who wish to keep Scotland's history alive.
The 'Lord Lyon King of Arms' still today has an important job ensuring standards regarding er, standards are kept up. Recently several Scottish football clubs were informed that portions of their badges and crests infringed the law and were taking advice from the Lord Lyon regarding their legitimate appearance. He is not a man to be fooled with!
The drain seen at the side of the Close is also interesting, it would have in times past been very interesting as it would have flowed with excrement chucked out of the windows above. As I recall the emptying of pots was done at night, the cry of 'Gardyloo' being uttered as a warning to those slushing about in the Close below. As the closes on both sides of the High Street slope downwards the refuse would run away but not always taking everything with it. The rich lived high above leaving the stench to those down below. It is no wonder Scotland is more egalitarian than England and now wonder also we developed so many leading medical personnel!
It is not possible for anyone in this world not to have heard about Greyfriars Bobby, the dog who slept on his masters grave in the churchyard after he died. So therefore I will not mention this but I can say I have been in the pub behind a couple of times, very much a student pub in the 70's, I suspect it remains so still.
I came across this squirrel one day in Kensington Gardens. The poor thing appeared to be suffering from a cold and as I had a packet of 'Lockets' those honey throat sweets as I had recently had similar I offered one to the greedy creature. he took it happily and sat chomping away, and breathing better, on this branch. I left another at the foot of the tree for him as I suspected he would require more. I was surprised that he accepted the sweet as they are not in fact very sweet and are very strong, I thought too strong for him. I was wrong. The beast appeared happier and so was I.
'Ally Pally' a city set on a hill and seen for miles around. A white elephant writ large. I don't think this has ever been of much use to the world. Alexandra Palace was opened in 1873 (rebuilt after a fire in 1875) as a counterpoint to the 'Crystal Palace' now resident in south London. The main aim was an entertainment centre but I am not sure it was a success. In 1936 the BBC TV made use of it as a TV studio, awfully well spoken announcers in evening dress and limited programming and even limited audiences. It was possible for the TV folks to walk round the town and shake hands with all the viewers if they wished.
The war, this occurred in 1939 look it up, put an end to TV transmissions but the Ally Pally was used by the BBC for a while after the war for both Radio & TV, the aerial towering above is still in use, but when the BBC found other studios the Palace was handed over to a multitude of wide ranging organisations and is still in use for pleasure purposes today. I would go but I canny be nothered climbing the hill.
I took this poor snap from a friends top floor flat which looked over the wide expanse of London. The sights at night must be terrific and the fireworks displays are best seen from up here. It is a shame the flat was expensive to run and a bit pokey and she moved to a more sensible rented accommodation. How the rich live!
One night in the London Favela I got bored and attempted to burn the place down by making use of candles to save electricity, it did not work. The place did not burn, no insurance was handed out and I saved no money.
Sometimes I wish I had kept hold of that old Leica. However it was a bit awkward to use and 1938 cameras do not do digital. Just think how recently we made use of those wee canisters of film. It appears like another world where the old fashioned process of developing and printing took so much time and effort while now we can in minutes rather than wait a week or so we can decide we have taken rubbish pictures! One great step for mankind.
Time to hit the road, something I often did when cycling...
A stones throw from Edinburgh Castle there stands these houses built in the late 19th century I believe. Above the roof of one stands this cat like creature apparently waiting to pounce upon the park land far below. When we passed this as a kid the family would point this out but I could never see it. No matter how hard I scanned the rooftops I was too dumb to see what was in front of my eyes. Standing half way up the 'Mound' I looked for the cat but go see nothing yet one day while passing there it was. You can tell by the Edinburgh it was summer. Actually I am not sure this began as a cat but the weather beat hard at the thing and a cat is what remains. No idea what it could have been.
The London penthouse in which I dwelt for many years contained a 'cat woman.' This one, who's name I forget, became a a friend to me and often joined me in my humble abode, it joined me everywhere if it could as cats do, however on this occasion the brute was making use of cat woman's garden. By garden I mean the area above the front door which acted like a garden if you like rock hard ground. Having eaten everything in sight I suspect he now retires to sit in the sun. Clever cat.
This is a scene from a trip on a boat somewhere on the Irish Sea in the 90's. Hunting for oil? I canny see what else they would be looking for. Maybe as a nuclear power station is not far away from this place could this be the result of too much atomic power leaking into the sea? Maybe someone should look and see if they remains in place? With even the Saudi's worrying about the loss of oil revenue could it be these have indeed been removed and replaced? If so I wonder what with?
This appears to be Bournemouth Pier long ago but I suspect it remains the same today. A wonderful beach here, well cared for, much used all year round, and a huge tourist benefit for the town. This is a place I miss, especially when the crowds have departed or long before they arrive. Maybe I ought to consider whether it is time for a weekend living of the second family? Maybe I will wait until the sun shines again as it appears to have gone out now. I will try again in Spring.
I've been tidying up the cupboard. I now have a box half full of old photographs and a large bundle of these set aside to scan into this infernal machine. How lucky you will be to see pictures taken in the days of the distant past. Lots of them!
This one of course is Tynecastle Park Edinburgh which you will recognise instantly. Many moons ago the huge board announcing the home of the Heart of Midlothian stood here but for reasons of crass stupidity this was removed during reconstruction work. This reconstruction was under way as I passed and we can see inside only because the stand at this end had not yet been built. I believe it is now home to Mr Smith, author, raconteur and wit, of our acquaintance a man who is lucky enough to sit here weekly and even luckier enough to write about what he sees in the local free press. Good for him! Recently it has been announced that the old stand to the right and out of the picture is to be rebuilt. This will increase the ground capacity and stop folks worrying needlessly re the safety of the present structure. It is said this stand was completed late in 1914 as the men working on it ran off to enlist in the army at the outbreak of war, a story I have not found evidence for but it does appear likely.
This was I thought a rather delightful shot of St Giles Kirk when I found it but age has ruined the dark bits somewhat. However turning it into B&W has helped to create a nice enough image of Edinburgh inn the gloom, when is Edinburgh not in the gloom? Edinburgh is so hard to get to nowadays. I have nowhere to sleep, no transport and no money so I could make use of the bus pass all the way to Berwick on Tweed and walk from there I suppose? Maybe that is a bit too far? I could spend three or more hours in Stansted Airport for a one hour flight and get the bus in from their, or travel by train to Kings Cross and travel by train for six hours or so to Waverley Station. Just thinking about it all makes me wonder if it would be worth while, especially now the cold east wind is hurling wind up my trouser leg. I might just wait till Spring, the Haar eases of then and the gloom lightens up somewhat.
It is difficult enough to travel to London just now let alone Edinburgh. Each weekend for the next couple of months (which means until Spring) they are working on the lines so all trains are replaced by buses from Chelmsford onwards, that's normally a 45 minute journey! No weekend in the 'Big Smoke' (Smokeless now so what to call it?) for me these days. In time all this will lead to an improved service or at least that is the hope but the cynical commuter puts things differently! It does not take much to disrupt a train service, one man stood in front of one just outside the station and argued with the driver for 45 minutes because of a ticket problem. The friendly travel police took him away. No train service can be satisfactory all the time but privatisation has made it worse and that is the ideology driving this Tory government today. Things will only get worse!
I wonder where that is?
It looks a bit Londonish to me but I have no recollection of taking this picture. It is possible I took it on my travels but who knows. I quite like it.
You can tell I have not got out, not that there is anything to see around here just now. Instead I cleaned the fridge (bi-annual event) and sorted these pictures. I ripped up and dumped hundreds in a cruel but required exercise today. Most were duplicates, many were children unknown belonging to friends, many more were our lot and not worth keeping now and others were just rubbish. The wheely bin will be heavy next time dustman!
Work tomorrow, someone skiving off again!
Saturday saw the new exhibition open, 'Postcards & Porcelain' from the district. A large crowd attended the wine bar opening and an appreciative crowd listened to the fitful speeches with appropriate delight. The idea is simple, John's collection of postcards cover the area and need exhibited. This meets the need of many who like to see how the area has change, or not as the case may be. Sadly few cards were posted or indeed developed during the 50's & 60's, those that were are usually rude ones, and the fashion died somewhat. The postcards still sells but not as it once did, lack of interest, the internet and laziness take their toll.
When I moved away I was told Mum wants to hear how you are so send a postcard. Mum wishes to know everything but you wish to write nothing so a postcard is ideal. My sister used to send me one when she & mum and the kid went somewhere, usually a local or funny card with 'We were here today' scrawled on the back. I received one featuring a picture of the Andromeda Galaxy one day with that written on the back, I think myself they had been in a museum!
Porcelain was used in similar fashion and to a small degree still is, however a wee bit more tatty than before. There was an amazing assortment of items from teapots to thimbles, tanks and milk jugs available at one time. There are no people on display but in times past a figure was developed and whoever was making news at the time that figure had his face upon it, even if it looked nothing like him! Politicians, sportsmen, musicians all were featured often on identical wee men.
I arrived home in time for the football results, not that there were many being the international break, and proceeded to watch Scotland draw with Lithuania in a manner similar to other occasions I have witnessed. I could have warned of this result before the game but did not see the need, proper Scots were surely already aware of the result before it happened.
So I have returned to my investigations of the dead found in Bocking End Churchyard. Very interesting to see how one can start with a trade, such as joiner, and become a 'Master Builder,' none of those around today, and die in one of he big houses round the corner, it may of course be on eh built himself! He left little money but a few years later his son certainly did which tells us something but I wonder what. The man shown was happily minister of the Congregational church but appears to have died suddenly in a hospital in far of Wimbledon, I wonder why? Such questions are as yet unanswered but do intrigue.
This 'run of the mill' side door, of a kind seen in town's everywhere, led me into a new world, a bookshop! Not just a bookshop but a proper second hand bookshop with several nooks and crannies and several floors of books, some in order others mixed up. A wonderful find and I wondered how I missed it before. I missed it because it only opened up in this building last year having previously been half way down the hill. More custom, far more people passing the door, more satisfaction for all concerned. A delightful staff, friendly and I suspect knowledgeable, several floors and with a 'bargain basement,' on the top floor!
I just happened to see the sign in the window and this led me to the shop. An aged building, a small shop that is larger inside than it looks from the outside and books a plenty. Having only my 'outside glasses' and not coming prepared to search for books I was caught out somewhat but I suspect this shop will survive here and there will be plenty of time to visit again. This shop has all an old bookshop should have, the building, the people, the nooks & crannies and lots and lots of books. I must say one or two looked expensive to me but this is because I am so used to raking charity shops for books and some of those do not understand the worth of older books so bargains can be found. These people know books and charge accordingly, they must to survive in this 'Amazon' led book world. I hope they will survive, this is a proper bookshop.
William Gilberd was as is said a clever man who became a physician, looking after the English Queen Elizabeth and experimented with science to discover the earth was magnetic. He also came up with Latin words which others called 'electricity' and possessed a clever mind and royal approval. King James VI & I also approved but not for long as poor William died in 1603 possibly from Bubonic Plague. Perhaps he ought to have ignored science and physics and just studied medicine?
The house in which William was born is a bit of all right for the time. I suspect it has been altered somewhat over the years but looks all right from the outside. Once the place would see horses and the like entering via the gateway and lassies in flowing dresses gathering to chatter about the latest gossip in town. This house would in those days be in the dead centre of town and clearly Gilberd's dad had influence at the time. Clearly he also made sure he did not upset Queen Liz.
I was impressed by the ancient gas lamp outside the entrance to the old house but somewhat disappointed by the somewhat tardy lightbulb seen inside. However these ancient lights add a great deal to old houses, and many still remain in Camulodunum in spite of Nazi bombing during the war and council rebuilding after it. Behind me the area is modern 1960's or later style buildings. Two church towers stand reaching to the heavens yet only one is connected to a church building, and that one is no longer used as such as the church has a new place next door. The building now appears to act as a hall. The old buildings rub up against a new shopping centre which I can tell you freely contains nothing that was of any use to me.
Having searched every charity shop in town unsuccessfully I made for home and naturally found my bus running just ahead of me leaving me 20 minutes to wait. Nothing for it but lunch in the 'Hospital Arms' with a £3:40 pint of Adnam's 'Mosaic' and jolly good it was too! A decent small pub made from two old houses well worth a visit, clean and tidy, well set out, offering food that tempted and judgng by the notice board reasonably popular. This place gave me space to recover myself before I wandered over the road for the late running bus upon which I almost fell asleep. That beer was stronger than I thought...
Autumn brings with it dark mornings. Midsummer sees the sun shining brightly at five, or at least waiting to appear over the houses, Autumn means it hangs about there till seven and then often hides behind clouds. Struggling out from under the fetid blankets a glance at the window shows what the day has in store, dim sky, wind shaking the branches of trees, glacial air pouring through the gaps in the aged window frames. Oh joy.
This morning I clambered out into the world and waited while the boiler decided whether or not to work. During the summer it took ages to find a thermostat point that satisfied the brute and now the chill has arrived it has shown signs of working almost properly, normality for the thermostat has returned it appears. Eventually there was enough water for my weekly bath, after which I chomped on the remaining almost but not quite stales bread before eventually dragging my bulk towards the museum.
My head was still asleep as I had woken at 5:15 am or so the man rather too cheerfully told me on the wireless, but sleep would not return to me until I decided to rise just on seven. Why can I not get back to sleep in this situation? If I was going nowhere I am sure I would sleep again but no, today I drowsily lie there soaked in wakefulness my head filled with fears, failures, worries and thoughts of a debilitating kind. Twenty minutes more sleep and I would rise refreshed, cheery, and ready for almost anything, but no, instead my gloom is heightened by the arrival of a song, Nina Simone with 'My baby cares for me' going around and around my head until the arrival of the songstress in my abode would lead to twenty years solitary for what I would do to her! It's a decent enough song but not one I wish to hear, or bits of one, that I wish to hear for hours every morning!
Drowsiness suffused my hulking body as I arrived at the museum and found the doors locked. This meant walking all the way to the other door and ringing the bell, such stress at this time of the day. Once inside I found the 'Star Wars exhibit' gone completely and work begun on setting up the next one, old postcards and other bits. Clearly I had to take immediate action, I hid and made coffee.
On around the third mug, and I usually don't drink coffee, I noticed both eyes were now open and I began to see people walking about once again. The thing about exhibitions ending is that few people arrive in the 'in between' time and only the much wanted gas fitter came in early on. The boiler has been giving trouble and has not worked properly since February as far as I can tell. After a few minutes fussing he had it working, if you call three hours a few minutes. When I left the heating was on but by then I had been moving about and could not tell if it was working because I had been.
During the clear up some boxes had to be carted to a car and I was called upon by the disgraceful use of guilt by the females in the party to carry the heavy ones in spite of my condition. The constant refrain 'We can manage' from women as you know means 'DO IT!' I did it but my back hurts now. Can I claim compensation I wonder?
One lass today had a problem with a child. He had misbehaved badly and she felt guilty for slapping his bahookey. In the circumstances I thought she had acted rightly but parents do feel guilty when disciplining children. I told her not to feel bad, I would have been angry too at his behaviour and young as he is he is a human creature and requires the slap occasionally. Get it now so he knows how far he can go I say. A good family, proper parents, and the children are well cared for, such behaviour upsets the parents more than the child but that is what parents are for, they suffer, the brats merely learn about real life. These kids will make it and make it well in the end.
No visitors disturbed the peace today bar one lass checking the shop and another regular having a quick look round. Only staff running (I use the word advisedly) in and out kept me awake. I was forced to make my own tea as Peggy took the day off again but I accidentally swallowed a slice of chocolate cake left from yesterday by mistake while doing so. Actually two others did arrive one lass enquiring re a hotel we had never heard off. All the clever people were involved, all were ignorant of this building. We did however have educated guesses as to where it had stood and decided the Liberal club is probably the place under a new name. However we truly did not know the answer and gave the best help we could. Most annoying and meant I would have some checking to do when I got home.
The other chap donated a pile of pamphlets and papers of great interest, I found this out by going through them afterwards, great stuff! I mentioned to him out previous query and he answered it right away! Not only was it the club we had considered but I was in there with him only the other week! Someone told me it had been a restaurant but I had forgotten the name and did not know it did wedding receptions, which was part of the previous lassies query.
That is a good result and what we want from people in this town, knowledge that we have not got, and there is a lot of ignorance amongst us I can tell thee!
Home satisfied that one query was dealt with. happily I ate what passes for lunch and discovered I drank so much coffee I could not sleep. I still cannot get my eyes to close...
Today was a day of meetings.
Having spent most of the morning attempting to wake myself from my slumbers I had to march out for a meeting at St Paul's at midday. I stuffed my face with fattening cakes while there telling myself I would eat no more all week.
I lied.
Our discussion revealed the details of how most of the folks there landed up as Christians, and how interesting each persons story was. I kept quiet at this point, no point in boring them when they were happy. I avoided grasping a loose 'Bakewell tart' as i left intending to keep to my promise and walked along the road enjoying the sunshine and contemplating what I had heard. How these folks always either teach me something or make me feel inadequate when I hear their tales.
The museum discussion was straight forward. Exhibitions, changes in the shop, plans for the future, the usual stuff all accompanied by Ginger Cake which I accidentally shovelled down my throat. It is good for you they say! Naturally I said little here and let my good friend Peggy do all the talking, something she is able to do well, and I just nodded in agreement courteously.
Each of the 'top dogs' spoke of their work, our accomplishments and what they required from us. I kept quiet here. One thing I do think will be good is getting people to write or even better record their stories for history. We do have one audio CD of folks telling their experiences of work in the town and (£2 to you) and getting them to reminisce on their past lives, good and bad, would be a wonderful idea.
The good thing is I miss out the papers when I am busy. I therefore do not get worried by the pap they offer us. However I note the PM is going ahead (apparently) with 'Brexit' even though no-one is too sure what it means and the Chancellor man has rubbed George Osborne's face in it as politely as a Conservative Chancellor can, with a smile. The Cameron/Osborne past is so foul in the eyes of the Tory Party that a video of Cameron's time was greeted in stony silence, most unusual for this party. Now he is of to make money, I bet he makes less than he thinks he is worth.
An interesting array of aged scooters outside the Town Hall today. A 'Mod' was getting married and his mates all arrived to celebrate with him. These guys gather every Sunday morning at the cafe round the corner, aged bikes with aged men pretending they are 40 years younger than they are. Not all remember the original 'Mods' who gathered in large numbers in the 60's, the 'Who' were their favourite band and it is unfortunate no music was playing when I passed today. I suspect the bride would turn up on a scooter but did not wait to find out. I did think it funny that several were dressed in 'Skinhead' outfits, especially as the lack of hair was becoming apparent at their age anyway.
Yesterday I wandered as a lonely cloud by the other river in Chelmsford, the River Chelmer. A narrow winding stream flowing past hidden industrial works and row upon row of boxes in which people live their lives. Maybe it is just me but while the houses are perfectly acceptable there is no 'heart' to be seen in them. Many rows of decent enough grossly overpriced housing with decent enough people but no character to be seen. I suppose when the rows of 'two up and two down' were built in Victorian days people thought the same but those appear to have more character than today's estate homes.
Chelmsford today is summed up in this picture. The house that once was a mill, one for which I can find no history, sits above the wee bridge over the Chelmer surrounded by parked cars. Cars from which many have entered the building itself, now an office block, and others who have moved to similar buildings, possibly the university situated at the rear itself. Behind are more offices in the distance and several industrial units, car repairs and the like. The once idyllic scene now surrounded by modern blight. At least the council keep the waterway clear and the gardeners do a marvellous job looking after the paths around.
The gentle flow of the waters do not tinkle by in this area, the only tinkling comes from the many bikes that rush along the path carrying students to their work or possibly lecturers to their enlightening talks. It may be just the usual suspects going about their business of course but happily none of them smiled bar one pretty young lass and the rest merely carried the cares of the world as they passed by. Still it is a good thing when towns, oops this is now a city, keep their rivers clear and create decent paths through tree lines areas and encourage wildlife as much as is possible. This is to be encouraged as we need these green spaces in our concrete and glass world.
That concrete and glass world was where the path took me sadly, five story glass fronted new temples of Mammon reared up and I plodded through the main street, now at least filled with a lively market, bought my coffee to keep me going and headed for the butcher for three for £10 chicken pieces to keep me alive.
An interesting wee house, totally out of sequence with the road in which it lives, called 'The Rectory.' This stands (in 'Rectory Lane') next to a closed cemetery the details of which I could not read as the gardener had blocked the note with his vehicle. The cemetery has been closed for some time and now the only people bar the council gardeners who occasionally cut the grass to be seen there are vagrants sleeping rough. I am tempted here to add 'Rest in peace' but will refrain.
Above the Rectory door however I noticed this!
Quite what this is or was supposed to be intrigues. It is certainly not what Christian buildings out to be decorated with I would say, it looks more like some portrayal of a demon. Possibly it was placed there to upset the rector and he quite liked it, these Anglicans are strange folks. I have no idea who lives in this building now, it may be uninhabited as the curtains are drawn across the windows. No doubt this once housed the man responsible for the cemetery upkeep, and very nice too, no noisy neighbours in the past, and possibly it lies idle for the moment. No wonder with this guy above the door!
