Fruit & Veg...

When I rose this morning, awake but still weary, I checked the online tracking for a delivery coming via 'Hermes Parcels.'  This is not a company with a good reputation.  Placed with them on the 6th it reached the 'local depot' wherever that is, just after midnight on the 8th, Saturday.  Later that morning it claimed to have been 'On its way to the courier'a claim which had disappeared by early this morning and replaced by a claim that the package was 'At the customers local depot' at 23:42 on the 8th and again at 23:49 the same date, eight minutes apart.  This morning, at 9:15 the message changed to 'On its way to the courier' once again, though why this arrived at my inbox almost two hours later I know not.
So I awaited developments while suffering the requirement to sleep, the bug appears to have attacked me again.  The door ajar and my ears awaiting the knock while checking the tracking constantly I expected the van to arrive sometime today.  It has not!  So where is it 'Hermes?'  
Hermes as we all now was the 'messenger of the gods' however fewer people are aware he was also the god of thieves, chancers and those of a questionable disposition (Hello Boris Johnson!).   Maybe the company is well named?  Maybe I do them a disservice?  Maybe they require to improve their tracking system so I know what is going on?
Tomorrow I will be at the museum wishing I was at home asleep.  I canny miss this as too many are already off and as you well know Hermes will claim to deliver when I am away from base.  There is another packet (more spending) that has yet to arrive via a differing courier, I think however that this one has not yet been posted, it is not expensive enough!  That may arrive tomorrow when out also....

When young we often went to Cowdenbeath, where mum was born, and stayed in the miners cottage, now long gone, where she grew up.  My aunt Minnie and uncle Sam remained there living on a slight ridge which gave a wonderful view over Central park, the home of Cowdenbeath F.C. at the bottom of the brae and Pit Number 7, the coal mine where Sam and my mothers three brothers worked all their lives.  In 1851 the Beath area contained around a thousand people, while searching for iron ore they found much more coal and soon the 'Chicago of Fife' bloomed, indeed by 1914 some 25,000 people dwelt there most employed directly or indirectly by the pits.
Now miners world wide have a tendency to fly pigeons.  This occurs in Scotland, Australia, the USA and no doubt elsewhere also, however I suspect this has lessened somewhat with the death of mining and the growth of younger miners with other hobbies.  There were no pigeon lofts that I recall around the back of Chapel Street however Sam and many other miners did spend time growing their own vegetables.  I suppose having spent six months on strike during the General Strike of 1926, a General Strike that saw the support of fellow union members fail after a week or so, miners like Sam and my uncles soon understood, if they did not already, that growing their own way a must.  I suspect they always had done so as miners enjoy the time spent outside in the open air, that is why many took up bird fancying, and the miners of that generation were not all of the type to sit in local pubs or miners clubs though obviously many did.  On one occasion uncle Sam offered me a green tomato, and he was adept at growing these, this was a tomato right at the point of turning red and it tasted delicious, one of the best I have ever had.  Long years ago now but this I have never forgotten.  My dad tried similar but his ground was poor, he was jealous of the men in Fife as they grew an abundance of roses, helped by the local milkmen still using horses you understand, and while he eventually succeeded they were never in his mind as good.  He also spent a lot of time in the garden.  The General Strike left Cowdenbeath bereft for six months, quite how they coped for that length of time is still unclear, I suspect the local Co-op gave a lot on tick, but they did and returned after much strife to lower wages. What many died not knowing was that Winston Churchill, the man who fought 'socialism' during the strike also came to hate and despise the mine owners.  Churchill was at heart a liberal and realised the mine owners cared not a jot for their workers and took against them so much he suggested nationalising the mines!  The Conservative Party did not agree.
Cowdenbeath today is much smaller, neater and contains around 15,000 people and almost no knowledge of coal mining remains. There once was a memorial indicating the spot the old wheel stood over while dropping the cage down to the pit.  I wonder if this still exists as looking at Google Maps there appears to be a leisure centre now stands where Pit No 7 once stood.  It would be a shame to have lost all memory of the reason the town exists.

 
I put up a tomato and end up in Cowdenbeath?  Sometimes I wonder...
Here is a couple of cheap peppers, they say these contain more vitamin 'C' than an orange but I wonder.  There is nothing inside them, the taste is not great, and the yellow one I ate earlier did not cure all my ailments, so maybe it is an exaggeration?

'The Team For Me' by Mike Smith

Edinburgh Reporter

Much to my delight another book fell through the door today.  A book all football fan everywhere can relate to, one man's obsession love of the Heart of Midlothian, who can blame him for that?  You will all understand that once a football team becomes yours, and it is 'yours' then you can never leave it.  Wives and children, jobs and money, fame and fortune can come and go but these are fickle things, a football team remains for ever!

Of course as I have several already on the go it would not be possible to read this at the moment so I just dipped into the foreword by the great Jim Jefferies, a man who began his career as a 16 year old with the Hearts, eventually became a stout captain and later led them to the great 1998 Scottish Cup win, a result some of us had waited almost forty years to behold. What a great man to have write the foreword! 
Naturally with so many live games on different channels today I have not been able to read further, well I mean I glanced at the first chapter or two and found myself understanding what life was like when following a football team in the flesh.  The getting ready, the transport there, the avoiding supporters of jealous lower teams all rings true, but I have not read further.
The author?  One Mike Smith, a writer of note who has written several books of this type, most notably 'Hearts greatest Games' which concerns 50 of those triumphs, compare that with the  Hibernian's book 'One Win in 1973,' which did not sell well.  
Look at the time I must sleep, I better take a book through with me....

Friday Floundering

The problem with putting things off is that they eventually turn up.  So this morning I was trapped by an ironing board as I had run out of shirts.  This done to the accompaniment of 'Last of the Summer Wine' a programme that reminds me of several men of my acquaintance.  The delight of finishing this chore was enhanced by the arrival of two books that popped through the door.  I must remove that Amazon button.  I did however manage to place these so far from me that I was able to continue work and forget all about them.  Buying books is a habit that must end!   

  
Duty done I sauntered off towards the town and made my way to the charity shops, this one in particular is always offering excellent books, and I happened to accidentally walk in the door as it was open.  However the bad habit of mixing fiction with non-fiction that has appeared recently hinders searching as there is only so much of Victoria Hislop that I can take.  A browse elsewhere in the shop left my money in my pocket though I was irked by others there with their habit of walking into me as if I did not exist, I blame the parents.
One thing I did reflect on was the two men I saw in the distance, one I wished to avoid as I did not wish to speak to him as I have not the four hours to waste, thus I moved the other way, the second man did likewise to avoid me!  How strange to feel ever so slightly miffed at being ignored while ignoring another leaving him possibly miffed, if he actually noticed me.  What a strange conflict there.  Both are decent men, both are worth knowing and both would be acceptable at another time, this was not it.  Yet I feel guilty re one and miffed re another.  Stupid boy!

Here is an interesting thought.  They knocked down the old clinic that once stood here and have almost finished building several tightly packed houses costing up to £340,000.  A glance though the local house ads show that the white ones facing us are still available while the red brick to the right appear to have been purchased.  
I wonder if the reason the most expensive homes on the block have not gone might be the fact they back onto the skatepark?  Now skateparks tend to be where young folks gather, playing on bikes and skateboards during the day and gathering around to share drugs, and sometimes music, at night.  Could it be that this might be said to be a problem when attempting to sell houses?  
There has been some trouble here over the years, gang fights at first, drugs, yobs on motor scooters and now almost silence in the evenings for some reason.  This years adolescents have not gathered to scream and shout late at night like previous groups have done, not as yet anyway but they will.  Would you wish a house there?

The promised Indian summer is not arriving, tomorrow means rain from early on.  No doubt cold, wet weather will soon be a constant and it is a week on Monday before my boiler gets fixed!  Bah!

Watching...

FreeFoto

Sitting in the barbers for what seemed like an aeon I passed my time people watching.  This is not something I normally do, there again I do not normally sit in public places where I can people watch, but today as men with what I thought short hair queued up to have it shortened further I leered out the window as passing female shapes and became interested in what I fleetingly glimpsed.

With kids in school mums, young and old, passed by aiming for the shops to the right of us, occasional pushchairs accompanied them.  From the bus park opposite a flurry of movement as a bus arrived and disgorged its occupants, they clutching bags of treasures, some just clutching each other as they left the zimmer bus.  College youths passed by in groups, the girls likewise always in threes, never alone, each with an identification badge hanging round the neck in case they forget who they are.  I doubt anyone would wish to impersonate such as these badly dressed teens.  It is noticeable just how badly teens dress.  We must have done the same but to our minds we were 'cool,' these folks today are just a mess!  It is important t dress in similar fashion as your peers but with a clear personal slant that speaks of 'you,' so that by looking like everyone else you stand out from the crowd.

Men of a certain age ("cough") pass by dressed as they have done since around 35 years of age and finding no good reason to change now.  Some dressed by their woman in M&S outfits others are indicating a rock and roll past with a bright shirt more suitable for a man twenty years younger.  Still others walk in the sunshine wearing shorts and thin shirts determined to pretend summer is still alive.  

Those awaiting the shearing reveal their occupation by their dress sense let alone the constant calls on their mobile phones.  Well fed and well built men with a determined attitude, dressed in t-shirt and well pocketed shorts reveal they are builders.  Their short conversations offer us the chance to estimate how much the wood will cost, who is responsible for the TCU (what?) and nothing is mentioned about the price.  Presenting a macho, tough approach is important among such men, it would not do to appear to be human, however the conversation with the barber reveals that they are human and concerned about their kids in spite of appearances.  

A young estate agent in tight fitting suit is glimpsed, they all look the same and leave you asking if you would buy a used car from them.  A van delivering ice cream (ice cream delivery?) halts over the road leaving the question "Who gets ice cream delivered from the 'Aroma' company?'  The taxi drivers parked on the other side dress in well used shirts chatting aimlessly while attempting to make a living.  Some have been there for over twenty years at this job.  I was told about ten years ago that such taxis then cost £300 a week to hire, add to that a need to earn similar to pay your way indicated that you need a lot of journeys to break even.  Many people use the taxis while shopping, the bus does not always go near your door in the outer reaches.  Late night revellers require them long after the bus has gone home and many make money whenever the trains arrives at the station. However it must be profitable for some but seems a risky work to me.

Young women dressed to attract similar males pass by, usually accompanied again, only women in business dress walk alone while clamping a phone to the ear, not a few of them, I wonder what they do?  Women with little care for how they dress appear, down at heel or have they always been like this? It surprised me to see how many people suffering mental limitations went past, some clearly from birth others possibly from accident.  Does the sun bring them out I wonder?  How difficult some peoples lives have been, made much harder by this grasping governments refusal to pay benefits and allow many to be thrown onto the streets and for others to die!  Today I spent a little while getting angry at the 'Daily Mail' commentators who refuse to pay taxes for 'scroungers and layabouts!'  This is partly because that is what the paper has told them and party because they wish to believe it.  Basically they are just greedy and do not wish to pay a penny towards caring for others. That is the basis of the Conservative Party policy and many grasping greedy people rush towards it.

They will be the first to demand benefits when they become sick.

       

Wonderful Wednesday

Nothing happened.
I woke, breakfasted, discovered it was ten O'clock, gave up.
I then found the new 'Private Eye' had arrived so that was the morning over.
Lunch, then it was almost afternoon over....
Now a football match has arrived.
It was one of those days...

Tuesday Evening

How quiet the museum was today.  The kids are preparing for school return tomorrow so I had time to sit on the computer researching for the education boss.  This was interrupted three times by people coming in, how could they?  How nice to do something productive again.  I was going to do more when I got home but unexpectedly fell asleep, shame that.

The 50 Worst Football Kits Ever

Watching England's lower divisions on Quest the other day I suffered cultural disengagement on perusing the shirts worn by the visiting teams.  All clubs wear two, often three different shirts.  The Home shirt is usually based on the traditional colours, they away, or what is now called 'change' strip often of a hue opposed to the home shirt.  Fair enough you think, especially when some sides, usually those involved in European games, have a third strip completely at variance with the other two.  One main reason of course is money, shirts alone sell at around £45 - £55 and some when combined with shorts, socks etc, can be near a hundreds pound an outfit.  Luckily my stomach sticks out to far to wear such as these.  
Watching the English lower division however I realised just how awful some of the 'change' strips are.  It is as if they had asked blind people or those with colour blindness to design them.  They are disgusting!  Quite what football players think when they see the shirts presented to them I know not, however as young men with too much money are pray to those who sell absurd fashion successfully to them I fear many players with consider these outfits classy!
However a glance through the 'Short List' sight offers us the  '50 Worst Football Kits Ever,'  and they are not wrong!  The one on offer was worn by Dundee football club way back in 1953, before our friend Mike S was born, and quite what they smoke darkened Dundee workers thought of this shirt at that poverty stricken age I fear to guess.  Possibly it was a sign of progress and good times ahead? Possibly they had run out of deep dark blue at the shirt factory?  I doubt they would sell today, even if the Independence re-run was successful!
 

Watching Clouds

Faced with an enormous amount of work to do yesterday I took the only possible option and sat in
the park watching clouds.  This did two things, it caused me to cogitate on clouds and getting chilled from forgetting the cold wind.  Just what I wanted.  Thus I had excuses to avoid work.  This I took up along with a whisky bottle.

Clouds still amaze me, this one is huge, looks fragile, like cotton wool yet weighs tons if condensed into a container of some sort.  Had it turned to rain we would have noticed.  Yet it merely floats silently along, not stopping for anything, all the time amending shape according to the wind and joining with any other if required.  I have seen clouds thus joined stretch all across the European landmass  producing no cries of wonder, merely complaints that the sun has been hidden.  Yet such clouds are a wonder and we ignore them.

One thing to cogitate is the difference between a fluffy cloud and an ageing mattress.  This crossed my mind as I sat there as the sharp portions of a broken spring were still sticking in my mind so to speak.  Mattresses ought to last ten years and this one has gone a wee bit past that but I did not expect to be woken that rudely.  Turning it over was little help as while sharp bit do not poke through it is clear they will arrive soon.  More expense, unless I can make this last until Spring, get it?
My eyesight is a problem as my outdoor glasses do not appear to be working any longer that means Specsavers will be visited soon.  Shoes are required, and no doubt lots of tins to store before Brexit leads to starvation.  I looked for money under the bed but found only dust and ageing 'toe-tectors' boots that are not worth much now.

Worse than anything else is the lack of football on the telly!  Not even a National League game on at lunchtime today and BTSport only offer an English game tonight at the same moment BBC Alba offer a re-run of this afternoons Heart of Midlothian v St Mirren game!  Who cares about English stuff when such momentous offerings are available.  Surely a time fault here.  All that's available at the moment is rugby or golf!  BTS also offered baseball this morning, Baseball!  Tsk!

Almost six, Football at last about to start, me? I'm almost asleep waiting...

Wasted Day

Life is soooo busy, I managed to get through two of my jobs today, the others now come under 'Friday Jobs.'  I had plans, last night these formed in my mind and enthusiasm soared, then I fell asleep.  This morning I sat ruminating on the emptiness of early morning TV while browsing the emails and other important internet stuff and suddenly it was ten in the morning.  Having just begun my third cup of brew I decided to finish that before journeying out to B&M for the seed for the birds. At eleven I decided to change my plans and wait till after lunch.  I got there about three...
Now I notice I have a long list of things to do tomorrow. 

Daily Telegraph

Kids, Photos and Quiz's....

In my little mind there has been one or two posts wandering around.  Tonight, after a day at the museum, well half day, the mind is dead.  Lots of kids full of energy, some more than enough for a top level football team, and mum's looking forward to next week when the schools reopen and the kids are locked in.  I mentioned this to one, rather well proportioned mum who has a child who possibly has AHHD, or is it RSPCA I canny mind, and she began to dance!  I suspect next week, around about Wednesday in these parts, many mum's and dad's will be rejoicing in the quiet as the little darlings have been locked up.  Pray for the teachers who may see things differently!

The weather has become normal in recent days, you can tell this by the way I am wearing two pullovers, a jacket and my overcoat as I write.  I suspect it will be hot again tomorrow.   This I have combined with laziness and ventured out only when required and in the mood, so I have not gone out.  This means no photos and indeed nothing to show.  Even today in between the kids, mum's and other distractions (I will hide that phone one day) I usually look for photos round about but nothing attracted and the weather was gray most of the day.  Next week, if energy allows, I will go out as places will be empty with kids and parents no longer on the streets.  Where is that bus pass?

   Digital Spy 

Being slow of mind these past few days meant I have become obsessed with quiz shows.  Even drivel like 'Tipping Point' has filled the screen, followed immediately by 'The Chase.'  This features individuals competing against the clock and then against a clever quiz professional and is very well compared by Bradley Walsh who adds a touch of humour and keeps the show rolling.  These offer questions almost low enough to enable me to answer them.  Many refer to TV and media of the day which leave me cold but others are answerable.  However sitting here full of pizza makes it easy to answer questions but had I to answer them within seconds in front of a camera I may go the way one lass did recently and fail to get one right and leave with nothing, nerves played a part here.
However that is finished and now I am off to watch 'Eggheads' another version of quizzing that I like, though if Jeremy Vine was replaced it would not be a loss, and here we have both individual and team offerings.  We also get time to consider our answers, now that I like.

Slow Day

It's been a long boring day.  Once the Motherwell v Rangers game was over all else appeared boring.  That game was worth watching, especially as Motherwell got their deserved equaliser with almost the last kick.  That nice Mr Gerrard has just realised how difficult this league will be.  He still has to go twice to Edinburgh to play the Heart of Midlothian and Hibernian, not at the same time, and our big centre Uchi will enjoy the men we saw out there today.
After that a succession of boring French and German football appeared, these, while offering decent amounts of skill were slow in comparison and the French league is the poorest of the two.  Yet these players get transferred for many millions while Scot lads are cheap?  Something wrong somewhere.
Not leaving the house has left me bored, no emails, only one chancer phone call and nothing to divert my attention from my troubles.  A boring day, and the rain falling all afternoon did not help the chill that gripped me today, another couple of days of sneezing lie ahead as if I have not got enough problems.
Any news?  No, it has all been swept under the carpet except for that attacking Scots independence, the media enjoy that while hiding their own bad news.  Clearly Independence is a threat again and the bad news stories are starting to appear in the media, more to come.  

Nothing to Say

Nothing to say as I have been lazy, nothing happened, and football was on...

Shopping Joy and Holiday Carnival...

Westbourne Grove Church

Having forced myself into Tesco late this morning, forced is the word as the place was bloated with people, most not quite clear as to what they were doing, I obtained most of my needs and the most important gift card for yet another nieces birthday.  I am convinced that some of these girls are fraudulent as there appears to be a birthday every month and sometimes two!  Are these really family members or hangers on who have somehow got their name on my calendar, it is a mystery. 

Back home resting my maladies I became aware that Monday is a Bank Holiday.  As the card must arrive by Monday that means I must post it now and ensure it gets there on Saturday, this meant leaving my comfort and once again heading into town.

After much shillyshallying I trudged all the way into town, some seven minutes away, and posted the card in the box I know will be collected, sometimes Mr Postman misses the nearer one, the cad!  

As I sauntered around I had intended to visit Sainsbury's and collect the oven chips that I forgot when amongst the masses in Tesco earlier but the herds of people suddenly had vanished!  The streets were clear, well almost, and 'Iceland' lay over the road with few people to be seen.  Naturally with only one item to obtain I spent £14:63!!!  At least the freezer compartment is full now.   I even tolerated the 16 year old with an attitude.  This was a surprise as most of the girls here in Iceland are usually quite good, cheery even, I suppose working is a new experience for some.

The Bank Holiday brings out the Notting Hill Carnival and whenever I see pictures of this I am glad to be out here far from the event.  Over a million people, hassle, police, yobs, noise and mess everywhere, it makes me glad to be here indeed.  The church pictured where my friend is minister has to close on Sunday because of the crowds.  In times past it remained open but many struggled to get past the police cordon to get in, then struggle again to get out.  The church attempted to make something out of the carnival by opening and offering tea and coffee but that had too many problems and nowadays it is easier to just close for the day, well two days as the building is usually used on Mondays.  Most locals head off out of town and do not return until Tuesday of they can, a wise precaution.

I will sit here in boredom watching football, it passes the time.   

Breath the Air Deeply

Brian Forbes

There has been a bit of a stink going around.  Some people are finding it a bit much, others just finding breathing a bit much!  It is that time of year again when Farmer Jones gets out the much spreader and covers the fields in the organic manure that is probably a lot cheaper than the chemical ones he buys.  I of course have no idea from where he obtains this stuff and I have no intention of enquiring re the source.  
A couple of days ago it began to work it's way into our consciousness late in the afternoon.  Such an aroma is not hindered by shut windows or scarves wrapped tightly around the face, I can tell you.  This delight seeps into the air and clings to you individual thus allowing the individual to enhance their lungs by breathing deeply and spending several days in hospital retching.  This happens every year yet this is the first time I have noticed people grumbling about this.  When I first arrived I remember being somewhat irked by the air but understood this is what happens when surrounded by fields producing bread.  For a day or two we benefit from this odour but it soon disappears and life continues as always.  Why people complain who have lived here for years I know not, it is part of life in the country.  The town is about three miles wide and two the other way and with lots of farmers actually growing things we are bound to notice their work sometimes.  They do not spend all day driving tractors slowly along the A120 for spite as some claim, they work on occasion and clearly one of them, to the north it seems, has been busy spreading it around.  I look forward to the crop he produces whatever it is.

How stupid can this stupid person be?  I am reading several books at once, two of which have been lying for some time and I picked them up once again while cleaning, and then is a charity shop came across this.  Naturally I took it home and placed it on the pile to be ignored for a while but then accidentally picked it up and began reading.  So that's five books one the go at one time.  Must go I have to read something before the football arrives...   

Conservative Party Policy

3000

As I checked the mail on Blogger I noted at the side the number of posts that I have made on here, some THREE THOUSAND it proclaims.  How many have been worth reading is not mentioned.  I have been scribbling rubbish on here since September 2005, when most of you were not yet born.  You ask what did I say back then as an opening gambit?  I said this for what it is worth, why I did say that I canny remember but there it is in mediocre English and dated 9th September 2005.  How have things changed in Guatamala since then I wonder?  How have I changed here?  Many who once commented here have moved on, got bored, disagreed or died, and I cannot find fault with that.  I have done all those things yet remain so I suspect something is wrong somewhere.  Interestingly 2013 was the busy year with 305 posts, almost one a day.  As I recall I was not busy at the time.  I have not looked up to see what I wrote but it must have been masterly, of course possible the comments flowed from peoples responses, vis their lawyers.

What does it tell you about someone who wastes so much time scrawling when they could be cleaning the sink, painting the bedroom or fixing the holes in the building?  The desperate, indeed arrogant desire to shove my opinions down your throat and make you all change your ways and do things my way, that way being best for all you understand, play a part here, a big part I suggest.  Why else would anyone discuss things with so eager passion and so little understanding or collection of facts?  You will be aware that men in my family have never required facts to be sure that they have a right understanding of any situation.  Why indeed do people want to become journalists and write columns full of their opinions if not to change others outlook.  I write that understanding that much of today's 'journalism' is merely claptrap to gather 'clicks' and increase advertising revenue while objective opinions from two or three sides are difficult if not impossible to find today.  Possibly that is why so many make use of 'social media,' the phrase itself humorous as the use of 'social media' in many cases is very unsociable.  However opinions can be found on the internet, the independent 'news' ones sadly always too far 'left' while he daily media is always too far 'right.'  It appears to me that thoughtful intelligent informed commentators are always individual sites rather than those gathered under one name, and too few of those can I find.

The success of this blog can be noted by the falling numbers of readers and commentators not including the lack of those wishing to donate large sums of money as these have always been rare, although much of this is I think the fault of facebook and Twitter as people now make more use of these money gathering sites rather than spew out lots of their thoughts on a blog.  I wonder, especially after the recent changes here, how long Blogger can continue.  It must exist to make money and gather info for the secret services of the west and pass these on to that nice Mr Putin, so I suspect it will continue for a while.  I may do so also, you lucky people...  

Jerry E. Beuterbaugh Deceased.

Having not heard from my friend Jerry for a while I wondered if he was sick, lacking internet again or dead.  I emailed him at the end of June and he had not replied with one of his rude and funny emails so I sent off another and a couple of days yet another asking what was going on.  No reply.  It was clear I had to find out and via facebook I discovered he had passed away, either through kidney failure or a heart attack, both being likely with state of health, and was suddenly left with a strange empty feeling inside.   
Quite how we began to annoy one another I forget as it goes back a few years but his caustic humour fitted well and rarely did I get one over on him.  His knowledge of Jesus and his equally caustic wife Arlynda gave us many a laugh.  Both of course were far from well, grievous sickness caused both many troubles, though Jerry considered her mother living with them caused more.  When she died a year or two ago he was not cheering but glad of the space given back to him.  Then just over a year ago his wife who had been ailing for a long time passed away.  This was followed by the aged dogs in the house also giving up life and only two impersonal cats appeared to be left to keep the man company by the end.  It appears they needed him to feed them!  
In past time Jerry had an adventurous life, I think we can say this, married more than once, travelling across the States driving large trucks while full of drink or drugs, and family problems all around.  It appeared to me that his ME. along with other illness came from those drug taking days catching up with him.  Jesus also caught up with him and while sick enabled him to change his ways and settle down almost into a normal life, though normal for Jerry was different from you and probably.
He believed the good Lord had caused him to write several books, this he did and at least one of then I read, his life story, but as the rest were fictionalised I found them hard going as I do all novels. Facts I can deal with, drama I reject.  

'Broken Branches' was the latest.

'Let Your Will Be Done' another.

'In His Own Words' something non fictional. 

It is true to say Jerry was not a great writer but that was not the point, he had something to say and put it over as well as he could.  Jesus would be pleased with his efforts and bless all those who would read them and see what was being said.

Jerry has done his time.  He had a long and 'interesting' life, now he resides with the one who died for him, cleansed him from all sin and welcomed him into the abundant life that never ends.  
For Jerry and Arlynda I am glad, for myself I will miss him, his wise words and his many arguments and rebukes, his humour and friendship also has now gone.  Enjoy your new friends Jerry!
 

First Day...

Yesterday saw many Scottish schools reopen after the holidays.  These usually begin the first week in July unlike the English holidays, possibly so the Scots don't have to mix with the lager louts while away.  Yesterday many a child was dressed in new school uniform, or occasional hand me downs, and frog marched cheerily to the school.  Photographs of clean smart kids appear on social media but non reflect the terror many felt being shoved into a room full of brats and abandoned by parents.  My first day was many years ago when we got two buses to the school, my mother and sister and for some reason a woman neighbour also, forced me into a class of about 40 children and threatened to leave.  I was not having this and made it clear by attempting to escape several times, I was not the only one.  A ginger lad left more times than I but we were forced to remain and endure a day with a strange woman (who we never saw again as she broke her leg next day) and all these little horrors. Looking back it appears many were happy enough to remain, possibly they were alongside friends from the local area, possibly the richer ones (this was a very egalitarian area) had been at some sort of Kindergarten, I know not but I was not happy.

Indeed in spite of my sister being there, she was three years ahead of me, I remained unhappy until the day I left.  Then of course I 'progressed' to a secondary school which was much, much worse!  But enough of that.  In those days girls and boys were rightly kept separate and non of this gender fluidity nonsense was allowed, this does not mean it did not exist but certainly not in primary school, what went on in the houses round about we never knew, indeed at that age no child cares.
While I was educated to some degree, report cards full of "Could do better," and "Take him away," flowed over the years, football was developed in the playground, this could occur as girls were as I said kept out of the way though they had grass and we had some form of tarmac, and by the time I left after seven long years I had some form of happiness there, this ended with the new school of course.  
How much did I learn at school?  Laziness and a lack of zeal for things I did not care for, yes maths I mean you, prevented me for becoming Prime Minister or indeed anything else, my real education began when Jesus turned up and indicated he was alive and took me out of my trough.  His report card on me I do not wish to read.  Only after this did I come into the real world and learned many things, mostly by mixing with clever people outside of my limited ken.  I still consider mixing early teens with a wide variety of different classes, backgrounds and cultures a more important education than forcing them to pass exams.  From 14 onwards they ought to be in the real world not poring over books.  Mind you I was 14 when I left school, my 15th birthday was the next day, soon I entered the world of work where soon I learned how to run from one job to another before you get fired.  You see, education in the real world.

  

Short Jaunt

Waking before six at this time of year is not a bad thing in my view, unless like me you have had insufficient sleep yet the brain will not close down.  This dumb approach to life left me spotting this picture first thing and attempting to reproduce the yellowness of the early morning sun, quite something today.  Within a few minutes I was on the bike and racing slowly towards the old railway in an attempt to enjoy cycling when its quiet.

Fifteen minutes later and the cloud was beginning to blot out the sun, typical.  Instead I pondered over the farmer who has sown wheat here and is half way through harvesting the crop.  He has been desperate to sell to a local money grabbing developer for years and once again has put in a bid to erect around 500 houses.  This would fill the space between town and village causing much upset and ruining the old railway as a glimpse of country much loved and required by folks like me.  
Who can blame a farmer for wanting out?  Once Bexit comes and the promises of Brexiteers are seen as hollow regarding the cash farmers would receive, fishermen have just began t understand that also, then food production will be unprofitable and Farmer Jones's all over the shop will be unhappy.  However a strenuous effort by people with talent has opposed this move once again and it may well be that they will succeed in stopping this development.  Several others are ongoing all around this area, the Tories are keen to build on 'green land' as their friends the developers are cashing in and they get something out of it, those with expensive homes get bills and debt while we all lose a green lung.    

Farmer Jones has got the huff once again and forced the Rangers to erect fences ensuring the public do not take their dogs onto his land, something they have been doing to his fallow fields for years.  Behind this one he has also chopped trees and attempted vainly to block the long established path and ensure he is continued to be loved by local residents.  Further up the road a similar large plot was threatened with housebuilding and someone bought the fields and turned them into a decent nature reserve, well it will be in a few years when grown.  That would cost a great deal here however as the area is quite extensive.  

 
How nice to see the bike out in the country again.  Not that I went far, just far enough to wake me up, and then return to do the ironing and have a jolly day with that....any woman willing to lend a hand?

New People

It's that time again, the time when new people are moving in.  All morning there were bumps and bangs next door as I thought a furniture van was at work, instead it was merely women scrubbing, hoovering and cleaning the quite clean flat.  I failed to spot any of them so have as yet no idea who is moving in however a black woman arrived later for a look around, maybe it is for she?  Maybe she with the big car, parked next door cheekily, is the new tenant.  If she can afford the car what is she doing here I ask?  The problem is we have no idea what new folks will be like, noisy, quiet, young or old, and we don't want any happy young folks in here I can tell you, all that joy and life, it would be out of place.  Another misery who ignores everyone unless he has too that is what we desire.  I am sure we will know more soon enough.

There has been an envelope lying there helplessly for a day or two addressed to someone unknown.  I now everyone here yet this name is new.  It clearly was ignored by the herd of elephants cleaning next door (can I call them 'scrubbers?') and suddenly I realised the flat round the back might have a new tenant as a new car (Mercedes) lies outside (where do folks get the money and yet move here?) So as I popped out I popped round and knocked on door.  Venetian blinds closed, a sign regarding witches hangs in window and slowly the door opens slightly to reveal a darkened room where a darkened face with darkened make up failed to shine within.  I explained my mission  and found I had reached the target, or as least the targets 'partner.'  I explained why the mail came to wrong address and promised to shove it in the letterbox.  The 'Goth' for that is what it might be, accepted gleefully (is gleefully the right word?) and closed door in fear of the light.  I hastened back to my door, collected packet, obtained a cross and a piece of '2 x 4' just in case, ventured forth and posted item as promised.  As I moved away at speed a cry of 'Thank you" could be heard but I waited not and ran all the way to Tesco.

Neighbours are OK in many places however the new ones often take some time to break in.  If this black woman is moving in does she have money?  Is she honest?  Is it one of those scams where they use the flat as an address?  Or worse is she part of one of the black churches that have sprung up here?  One can never tell until they move in and start partying or getting visits from the constabulary.  No doubt now that I have been neurotic about her she will be lovely even if she is female...

O Happy Day!

This was destined to be a good day, the sun shone through the chill wind, the shops were empty again, no new neighbour moved in the flat next door as yet, and I will eat properly tonight!
What else do we need?  I will tell you what we need, a good result against the green bigots!

And a good result we obtained!
While the Glasgow media pander to the green bigots by declaring how weak Celtic's squad is at the moment (not counting the multi million players appearing for them today surely?) the fact of the matter is that the Heart of Midlothian tactics were better, even though the claim is they did not quite work, that the players were more determined, that our play was better and we scored yet another wonder goal!  Even John Beaton, he off the flashing yellow and red cards, did not book as many as usual indeed cautioning two of the bigot side, and overall the game went well all round.  

A happy manager as he sees his side begin to take good shape and prosper as they ought.  I look forward to the next few games, many of which we have every chance of winning, and note how the Glasgow media will ignore us until we threaten their hold, then they will unsettle our players with lies about 'bigger' clubs wanting them, the usual lies.  A good time lies ahead.