A Gray Day

A gray day that saw me wandering about our limited town looking for a Teddy Bear.  People keep having kids and the only gift is a Teddy Bear and could I find one?  No!  There were varieties of soft toys, some affordable, but no actual Teddy Bear available.  I was about to give up and search online when I passed the charity shop with one in the window, cheap but nice.  I had to check it was a special buy and not a second hand thing, I am not that mean, but it was indeed a special purchase so in the pocket it went and soon, after I have adapted the price ticket, it will be prepared for handing to the happy worn out mum. 

 
Once I decided to search the web for Teddy Bears I discovered just how many people sell them, often hand made, jolly expensive but decent bears.  There is a big business in old bears often worth vast sums of money.  New bears, Steiff of Germany is a great name, retail for over a hundred or more pounds, and vintage ones cost thousands!  If I ever have money I will ignore banks and out my money into vintage Teddy Bears and these will definitely keep their value.  

 
Ma hoose...honest!

Another Day Another Doll.. Hold on..

Once more the shortage of staff forced me out of bed and into a clean shirt for museum duty.  Imagine having to shave on a Saturday rather than a Sunday!  This puts my body clock right out and I will be confused all week.  
As expected little happened though having decoration work under way we allowed folks in free of charge which brought a few smiles to faces.  At least one or two spent money in the shop afterwards.   This always pleases me and it pleased the kid who left with a pair of Harry Potter glasses also!
The main bulk of the morning was spent watching a cha stick stuff up his nose outside.  I spoke to him somewhat roughly and while I wish I had just lifted him and dumped him outside I was wary of folks passing and also me losing out!  The boss called the 'town security' who never appeared and eventually he wandered off.  If he returns I may get annoyed and dump him with or without security. Sticking stuff up his nose with kids around is not on and it is not going to happen in our garden.
I have been running this through my head since and it annoys me.  Some folks need help, others need removed from society while they kill themselves slowly, he was one of the latter.  
On the Twitter feed I watch the local police and they are constantly picking up drug dealers with thousands in their pockets yet people say legalise drugs and end the crime?  It may end crime but will still have thousands dying on our streets hooked on this junk.  Legalising it will not save them.

The drizzly day sauntered on after this, happy dealings with the families that arrived, happy dealing with a lovely young woman who spent money, and happy to leave not long after noon and head for home.  Life has been dead since!

The problem with weekends is a simple one, if there is no football there is nothing happening.  No political stories, no tragedies, no events that need mentioning in fact no news at all which must really annoy those having to work the weekends.  Once I have shopped there is little else to do when the rain drizzles uncomfortably down TV and radio are poor and the web is not pleasing me.  Now I just sit and mope as I am too tired to think.  Bah!

 

The Post.

I drifted slowly down to the Post Office the other day to obtain stamps for Christmas.  Quite why I know not as I still have plenty from last year, indeed the year before!  It is however untrue that I still possess and make use of tuppence halfpenny stamps bearing George VI' image upon them!    
Now it costs 65pence for a first class stamp, 56 for a second class and while this sounds expensive to the pennypinchers amongst us I think that sending a letter/card from one end of the country to the other for that price is well worth it.  92 per cent get there the next day and from my own Royal Mail experience I know that most of those that don't have address problems which the postie has to solve and the sender will never accept.  
There is no doubt that Royal Mail for all its problems, mostly bad management, Royal Mail offers a great service.  When postmen are regular one a round they can deal well with the folks they meet, and avoid one or two others, each 'walk' has one woman who it is best to avoid!  I enjoyed that job even though my knees didn't and wish I had begun the work many years before.

Not that I send much through the post these days, mostly birthday cards and the like, but I am happy to receive this way.  Much better to have books delivered by post than by Amazon's awful own company that delivers when and if!  Buying second had books through Amazon means the sender uses Royal Mail thus making it easier all round.  What a shame Amazon think their way is better.
I had one card to send this week, having nieces is difficult as if I forget one the others gloat, if I forget them they grumble, and you know what girls are like when grumbling!  So off the card went, with gift cards inside though why I bother as she earns more in a year than I earned in a long lifetime.  I suspect her Xmas will be spent in New York or on the Spanish Coast where she and her man will swill lots of cheap beer, well he will, and squander their cash which they could make better use of by giving it to me!
Good job I'm not one to complain!

Bad Royal Mail management has led to the feeble union taking a stand at long last and calling a strike on Oct 19th.  Had they stood their ground years ago there might have been better conditions then but they kept quiet feared the union might end up in court and they would lose their jobs.  Over 60,000 men have been lost to RM because of this.  This strike concerns the pension which as is common these days the company is fiddling.  I doubt this will make much difference in the long run.

 

Laugh or Weep?

The 7:40 is heading for Waterloo and as it Passes Parsons Green a man stands up and begins to read from the bible and speak to the packed commuters on the train.  He mentions, so we are told repeatedly, 'homosexuality as a sin,' and 'Death is not the end.'  
At this the brave Londoners began to panic. 
A woman screamed and several began to prize open the doors and jump out onto the trackside.  The driver realising the danger called in and the power on the line, all electric on this line, was turned off ensuring the passengers (sorry 'customers') were safe and the entire line brought to a halt and hours of delays ensued.
As panic grew a man asked the preacher to stop and the guard arrived to speak to the man.  As the train continued, some power must have been returned, into Wimbledon he was spoken to calmly by the police.  No charges were brought, the guard congratulated on his approach and the many users of the railways out of the UK's busiest commuter station inconvenienced.

  
Well MR Khan I think you mistook the attitudes of those commuters hurtling in at 80 miles an hour yesterday morning.  They have not given the impression that they are 'Not broken' but have offered a glimpse of people either naive, ignorant or plain stupid!  
I accept that for most the bible is not a book they have read, nor have most been forced to attend a Sunday School of some kind when young and as such the nation is clearly bible ignorant.  However most understand the basics of Christian teaching, most in London have come across a 'preacher' in the streets, on a bus or train or in a large complex at one time or another, how come this lot failed to understand?  The pictures on offer do not show uneducated people leaving the train, a common lot of commuters only, yet they open the doors and flee!  A brief read of the good book will often force fear into people when the truth about judgement appears, many refuse to accept this and prefer the safety of the life we keep in our heads rather than allow eternity to break in however that was not happening here.  This was a confusion between the bible and the Koran.  These people could not understand that this man was not going to blow them up, his words spoke to them like ISIS had appeared in front of them!  The ignorance displayed takes some beating in my view.  

  
There is another reason for the panic and this can be traced back to Tony Blair and the deliberate attempt to increase awareness of Islamic terrorism.  During the years of the IRA Provos and their bombing campaign many bombs were left in stations and other public places yet the government propaganda never encouraged panic, indeed the opposite was the case but not now.
Blair even had 'Ferret tanks,' totally useless against terrorist attacks, placed outside Heathrow Airport just for a publicity stunt, what a waste of an army that was!  Today the fear has been raised both by government offerings and screaming headlines in the 'yellow press.'  
Of course there is a need to be wary of individual or organised ISIS type attacks at the moment but hysteria is not an answer.  This generation is not the one that either lived through a war or grew up in the years after one, no this generation has no concept of 'Getting on with it as there is no other choice' nor do they have the ability to be calm in difficult situations.  I would be far from calm in a bomb situation myself but I suggest most of us would react without panic if a preacher, even one with a koran stood up and spoke.  Two world wars, a couple of depressions and Margaret Thatcher yet let someone quote scripture and panic sets in.  What a world.

Viva Catalonia

The Atlantic

To most people Catalonia is probably famous mostly for Barcelona football club and the Gaudi architecture found in the city.  The Scots however appreciate the nationalistic emotions engendered by years of oppression by a bullying centre.  In the Spanish civil war this area suffered under General Franco's right wing army and since then the government in Madrid has not lessened the hold over the region.  The supposed United Kingdom comprises Four sovereign nations Spain about a dozen.  If Madrid and the corrupt government found there (are all governments corrupt today?)  allows independence for Catalonia then the Basque region and others may decide also to secede from Madrid rule and that would upset many people.

The Catalonia government decided to hold a referendum to gauge the desire for independence within the state.  The Spanish government took this to court and found this was against the constitution and the court banned the referendum.  Naturally this did not stop it!  Today the vote went ahead and heavy handed Spanish riot police, not the local Catalonian police, attacked the places where such votes were being held, crashing into the buildings, removing voting papers and fighting with those inside who resisted.  Men, women and children were abused, some indoors others attempting to vote.  Still others blocked streets and were forcibly attacked with clubs and violently removed.

  
While the thuggish police assault Catalonians attempting to vote peacefully many world leaders remain quiet.  Theresa May and Jeremy Corbyn have said nothing as far as I can see, Boris Johnson mutters about 'constitution' and keeps quiet, only Nicola Sturgeon has spoken out against the violence and a demonstration against the violent crackdown occurs outside the Spanish consulate in Edinburgh with no riots.  
The reason they keep quiet is the fear if Catalonia win independence others will follow Scotland certainly will and with Brexit bringing economic collapse sooner rather than later this is at least one good thing to come out of this corrupt and incompetent government.  
The sad thing is that had Madrid allowed a referendum, indeed encouraged one with appropriate questions (to their advantage) a peaceful result may have shown no complete desire for independence.  However now they have assaulted so many and revealed their desperation it is not unlikely that Catalonia may declare UDI and break away anyway.  What could Madrid do about that? What would the result be?  We wait and see.
The right wing media and the BBC are playing it down of course, they follow the Tory line.

Dunces?

While cogitating on my readership I came upon a gentleman called John Duns Scotus of whom you will have knowledge I'm positive.  He was named after his birthplace, 'Dunse,' now called 'Duns' and found ion the Scottish borders not far from Berwick on Tweed.  It was common then to call people by their place of origin as you know hence the name.
Duns Scotus lived from 1265 - 1308, an interesting time in Scots History with the English barbarian Edward I attempting to steal the land for his imperialist grandeur and failing and one reason for this was that great man Sir William Wallace, patriot and Knight!  
John had an uncle who was guardian of the Friars Minor at Dumfries and he joined there, at that time a good place for clever kids to make use of their brains.  Mind you entering a monastery before puberty does not appeal to me as a good idea, especially in those far off days.  On the other hand clever people did reach powerful positions and Duns Scotus did have a good brain.
Educated by the Franciscans at Oxford by 1291 the political background meant little to him and by 1300 he was disputing and lecturing.  His brain took him to Paris where it failed to prevent him taking sides wth the Pope when he and the French King fell out, Duns was out also after this.  
He returned a couple of years alter and was suddenly called away by his order to Cologne in 1307  where he died and was buried there a year later.  A mere 43 years of life, life was short in those days.
On his tomb it reads 'Scotland brought me forth. England sustained me. France taught me. Cologne holds me,' in Latin as you appreciate.

 Along with Thomas Aquinas and William of Ockham, he was one of the leading Scholastic philosopher-theologians of the High Middle Ages. Duns Scotus wrote treatises on theology, grammar, logic and metaphysics which were widely influential throughout Western Europe, earning Duns the papal accolade Doctor Subtilis (Subtle Teacher). Duns remains highly esteemed in the Roman Catholic Church, and was beatified by Pope John Paul II in 1993. However, with the advent of the Renaissance and the New Learning, and then the Protestant Reformation, many of Duns's theories and methods (which were considered hair-splitting) were challenged or rejected by Humanist and Protestant scholars, who used the term "Dunsman" or "Dunce" in a pejorative sense to denote those who foolishly clung on to outmoded doctrine. (The form "Dunce" reflects the medieval pronunciation of "Duns".) Gradually "dunsman" or "dunce" was used more widely for anyone stupid or dull-witted.
Wiki

In short our man was an intellectual philosopher who studied Greek authors and followed Roman teaching more than scripture.  Thus it is no wonder his influence faded after the Reformation.  Scripture became the centre of the Christians life not philosophical ramblings no matter how intellectual or stimulating.  
Quite how the word 'Dunce' ought to have brought my readership to my mind is unclear at this moment...

Autumn Mists

Autumn, the season of 'Mists and mellow fruitfulness' said he poet, I'm not sure about the mellow fruitfulness but last night there was plenty of mist.  This contrasted sharply with the warmth found in the middle of the day today where people walked about shirt sleeved, they must be mad!  

  
The aged bandstand in the gardens has been in attendance at almost 140 such seasons.  The trees around have cheerfully deposited their leaves for someone else to gather over a similar time.  The gardens once were the sole property of one of the Courtauld's, George I think, who had the big hoose over the road.  He also had a huge area of fields there also which now form the park l and in a spirit of generosity donated the gardens to the town.  This was received with much pomp and display.  The townspeople marched through the town in celebration and a picnic in a local field was held at the end with a bonfire and carousing no doubt at night.  People made their own fun in the late 19th century.  The gardens are now run by a trust and a Courtauld is one of the leading men attempting to keep the gardens running.

        
Apparently the Labour party have been having a conference this week, only listening to the news headlines means I miss out many tales and yet miss out nothing important.  It appears Jeremy Corbyn thinks he could win an election but there are two problems here: we are not having one and stopping Brexit is more important.  The election one is fun as this is three years away I guess and the Tories will have gone through about three Prime Ministers by then and while it is possible Jeremy might be acceptable to many by then I suspect he also may have followed them into the abyss.
If however Brexit is not stopped, and Jeremy is all for it, then in three years time Scotland will be independent, England broke taking Wales and Northern Ireland with them and the world will be a different place.  In the meantime we struggle on with the worst government we have ever had, sometimes I wish David Cameron would come back at least you knew where you were with the ignorant toff.

        
There has been much cheering in the realms of the easily led by the radical news from Saudi Arabia that from next June women will be allowed to drive cars in that country.  Cue much cheering from feminists, media women and others with little intellect.  Women being allowed to drive gets a round of applause yet not one word is asked re stopping the crucifixion of 16 year olds, the decapitation of offenders nor the chopping off of hands and other bits and the stoning for adultery, these are less important than a woman driving!
Questions must be asked why this decision has been made?  Could this reflect the new young rulers intention to 'modernise' his nation?  Could it be a lessening of the influence of the Wahhabi imams? Or could it be a distraction taking our minds of the proxy wars on Yemen and Syria?  Or is this to hide something else we are not being informed off?  We wait and see.

The Autumn sun peeked out between the large misty cloud formations time and again today indicating that more such weather awaits us.  Rain clouds form as we speak, the residue from those US hurricanes make their way east and affect our nation, typical Yankees!  Not only do their money loving Boeing attempt to kill of 4000 jobs in Northern Ireland they dump their old storms on us also.  We can hit back concerning the aero companies but sending our weather to them is not so easy.
I expect Mrs May, when not taking the knives out of her back, will call that nice Donal Trump and inform him handbag style what she thinks of it all.  He can attempt to hold her hand but I suspect this will not work again.  Not sure it worked last time right enough.  
Mrs May is still PM but there are rumours of a coup approaching.  However all rumours are just that, rumours.  Who plants them?  The Russians, The Tories, a Tory bigwig unsettling other bigwigs, the CIA or 77 Brigade?  Who knows?  So many false items on Twitter and Facebook and so little truth among the whole thing.  I am cutting down on both social media and lessening my search for information to more reliable informants, who are possible lying I must admit.  
Just imagine, a British government with a divided cabinet, backstabbing ministers and no opposition, no matter what Jeremy says, is this possible? 

Wimmen Doctors!

All Posters

 

Amongst those volunteering for service during the Great War were a large number of relatively newly qualified female doctors.  These were of course refused by the British Army as being female they could not be reliable nor capable with dealing with the situation ahead. 
Te women, especially Scots women, knew the answer to that!  They had already met much resistance from all sides but had succeeded in qualifying as doctors and indeed surgeons.  The Scottish Women's Hospital movement led by Elsie Inglis applied to the French authorities who were unsure about these women but nevertheless accepted them and under control of the French Red Cross allowed a hospital to be developed at the former Cistercian Abbey at Royaumont some thirty kilometres from Paris.  From January 1915 until March 1919 the hospital operated very successfully and from a slow start became recognised as the best hospital the French or indeed anyone else operated.  The French were totally unprepared fro the number or type of casualties that would arise during the war, the British and German better prepared but even so all were lacking in relevant experience, medicines and qualified staff.
  

Corybas

The Abbey while attractive and restful was totally unsuited for hospital work.  Sanitary arrangements were never satisfactory, accommodation required huge manpower efforts to amend and living accommodation for the staff appalling and worse in winter when it froze!   Conditions were never great no matter how hard the staff strove but nonetheless they managed to save life, avoid amputation where possible, much more than other hospitals managed, and became much loved by the French soldiers.  
The soldiers were mainly French although these included many Senegalese who had different habits that had to be taught and North Africans, mostly from what is now Algeria, all of whom came to respect and admire the Scots lassies.

  Royaumont Dans la Grande Guerre

The staff were led by Doctor Francis Ivens and Elsie Inglis, Inglis herself left to set up a  similar hospital in Serbia where Typhus was common and her hygiene improvements cut the causes of many illnesses.  In 1915 she was captured and repatriated but instead of sitting around created another hospital for work in Russia.  This began in 1916 but cancer caused her to return home in 1917 when she died on arrival in Newcastle.  Edinburgh honoured her with a hospital named after her, much reduced now to being a mere children's clinic I believe.  She also appeared on a Scots £10 note 'Clydesdale Bank' I think.
Francis Ivens was another strong willed suffragette who had attained medical qualifications.  When Elsie Inglis moved to Serbia Ivens was left in charge at Royaumont and how well she did her job!  Running the Abbey hospital, operating, checking patients, ensuring the staff, Doctors, nurses, orderlies, chauffeurs, kitchens and all else required to keep the Abbey running were happy in the difficult circumstances of war and also ensuring the French authorities trusted the hospital and offered support while also keeping the committee back in Edinburgh aware of the needs of the Abbey Ivens had no time to herself over some four years of work.  The fact that few fell out with her, almost all trusted her implicitly and she, like several others at the Abbey, received the Croix de guerre from the French government speaks volumes for her abilities.  One major achievement was the work on 'gas gangrene' which early in the war killed many or led to amputations of limbs.  Her work at the Abbey contributed mightily to finding success in dealing with this comparatively new problem.

All staff throughout were female.  Occasionally a mechanic was employed to keep the vehicles working but the drivers remained female.  Some patients were able to help with the daily duties and willingly did so as part of their rehabilitation yet all the daily grind, which included carrying patients on stretchers upstairs to the wards and moving bags of clothing and linen to the top floor was undertaken by the women.  The desire to show the men they could do the job had a big influence on these suffragette influenced lassies.  Many were highly qualified, others less so, some middle  class others not, yet they worked together with the usual bitchiness occasionally breaking out but usually dealt with by Dr Ivens or another staff member with tact and firmness.
During major offensives such as the Battle of the Somme work was unending.  Doctors and nurses, drivers and orderlies worked until they dropped and then carried on.  Some three thousand men came through in a few days, these were checked, X-rayed, early path lab work carried out and the result was highly successful.  Over the years which included The Somme in 1916, the battles of 1917 and the 'great push' of 1918 saw over 11,000 patients came through the hospital and of these only 159 died.  An excellent result for the work of Dr Ivens and her staff. 

Elizabeth Courtauld belonged to this area.  The family were famous for their contributions to society and 'good works' and eventually Elizabeth qualified as a doctor and headed for Bangalore where many women found medical experience unavailable at home.  Elizabeth was the oldest of the doctors at 50 years of age and her work included the smaller casualty clearing station at  Villers- Cotterets including the emergency evacuation under shellfire and bombing from the air at night during the German push in 1918.  This was an experience few forgot!  After the war like many others she returned to India to enjoy her work there.

The Women of Royaumont

Angels of Mercy

So Quiet

So quiet just now.  The TV is off, the radio is off, and I sit in silence awaiting six O'clock.  This is important as at six BBC ALBA will offer the full game between St Johnstone and Hamilton Accies hence the silence.  Anything I listen to is likely to offer the score inadvertently so I sit with no noise, scared even to play You Tube in case it appears there.  Ah Radio 3 Jazz!  That fills a gap.
Had the weather been better had my health been better then I would be outside avoiding radios and observing the world, instead I linger here reading books and burning chicken for tea.

I took some objects to the museum early on for the next exhibition, something about the 60's, 70's and 80's which appear like yesterday to me but ancient history to some.
I remembered today the men I worked with when I left Edinburgh in 1975, several were in their late 50's and early 60's and it was interesting to consider that if they still lived they would be around a hundred years old.  In my mind of course they remain as I remember them, fit, healthy and bossing me around.  The women who threw themselves at me, or at least threw some things at me, will no longer be lithe young slips of girls, grandmothers all and yet here I am just as I was then, youthful, handsome and ........  *fill in as appropriate. 
Nostalgia is not what is was and that is why we are having an exhibition covering the Christmas period (note Christmas is less than 100 days away) and offering something many in the town will wish to remember.  They will also wish to visit the photos I am about to steal from them to offer for the exhibition!  Photos of people, places that no longer exist and then they can mutter and groan how "It was better back then" even if then they spent the time grumbling as to how it could be improved!  This they deny!  
Now, where are my Hippy beads...?

  

Autumn

Autumn has definitely arrived.  The leaves are yellowing, many falling, the rain ensures many more will fall and bring delight to those who have the job of clearing them from paths, roads, pavements and so on.  I remember that job well, finish one day and start again the next.  
Not that the rest of the weather has varied much, darkness falls earlier, the rain comes and goes, and people pass smiling and happy - yeah right!

 
Nothing else happened.
Politics is still sick.
The loss of William G Stewart who's death was announced today is a sad one.  Producer of many programmes and presenter of 'Fifteen to One,' an excellent quiz show now ruined by the presence of a failed 'celeb' as presenter.  He was excellent in this show and this became one of my favourites when he presented it.  It ran for a long time but now hides away in one of the obscure channels.  No wonder!
Nothing else happened again...

Humour

Stuck Indoors

 

I have been stuck indoors for days this not for an eagerness to hear the words of Boris Johnson on the news nor for fear of ISIS terrorists, if only the 'Tube' came this far out!  None of these things have moved me much and instead I have merely loitered here unless the desire to feed my fat face moved me elsewhere, elsewhere being Tesco or Sainsburys.  Those places, and one other now found in this town, offered me a glimpse of the creatures that have recently left school and a re pursuing a career in supermarket rip-offs.  One featured a disinterested gayboy who will not see out the month as he clearly finds work in the real work not to his liking.  It appears school has not taught him about reality and while one or two others who joined alongside him are making the most of things this one will not last.  The newer shop, B&M has in the few occasions I have been in been staffed by incompetents and wee girls with an attitude suitable for a poor soap opera, it is however unsuitable for work.  The boys do the job but the girls, including some well past adolescence, fail in every way.   The allure of a life as an 'Essex girl' may be drawing them, I suspect they watch 'TOWIE' and see it something to live up to.  Give me the elder regular checkout staff who for the most part are grown up, well most of them.

Much of my time has been taken up with catching up on things begun years ago.  A woman asked one day for information regarding a local village and we had none, no surprise there as there many villages in our area.  I decided to write out a handout for the village, and others also but never got round to it because of the interference of the war exhibitions.  Recently I managed to pick up some of the forgotten links, those not lost in the death of the old laptop, and have begun once again. 

Some villages here go back into the Iron Age, others appear to have begun just to till the fields of a Lord of the Manor, especially in Norman times, and hovels that once housed farm labourers after their long day in ploughed fields now sell for half a million or more to residents who never meet one another unless they collect the kids from school or lower themselves to get drunk in the one remaining pub, a pub the few remaining locals avoid.

It s no surprise men took to trades of any description if it took them off the land or flooded into bigger towns for work in unhealthy factories where wages were higher and rough conditions better than frozen fields.  It is no surprise also so many left voluntarily for war when the chance came, excitement, comradeship and a chance to see the world was not something a young fit man could wish to miss.  There are fifty or so memorials to those who did not return from their adventure around our district, not counting the ones in the bigger towns.

In days of old things were tougher.  If dad was working the fields the kids had to walk two or three miles on occasion into school.  Fun probably in summer but not so in winter.  Most of these kids were local but others had a long walk in to education.  I do not think most teachers had any qualifications, I am unsure when that became a requirement, but certainly on some census returns clever lassies of 16 years were noted as 'teachers.'  What did they know?  I suggest they were however more capable than the local young checkout staff of today.