GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

So I waited in. 

I waited.

I waited.

Eventually I looked at the tracker, it had not worked the last time I looked.

Collection attempted at 10:53.

NO it was NOT! 

I am sitting here at the window, I was packing another package, no bell rang, no sound.

Before 11, I took out the rubbish, no red van in sight.

Sign in and enquire.

Cannot sign in, do not recognise details.

Vitriol is now rising (or was that a type of motor oil?).

Several attempts made, no response, eventually it worked, why I know not.

I rebooked for tomorrow, grudgingly.

I then went onto Twitter and found their site and placed a far from gentle expression of irritation there.

Later an email helped me sign in, no mention of package.

I fumed, griped, declaimed, bemoaned, and expostulated.

I also expressed my annoyance.

I needed to go out, it was now too late, I had another packet to post.

Grrrrrrrrrrr etc was my mood.

 

My irritation worried me.

This year I have spent much time fumong over laptops, Boris, Trump and a variety of things near and far.  This ought not to be.  I am sure I was less keen to express myself before but I think age and Lockdown, tiredness and lack of self discipline are showing results.  Spending too much time alone is not helping, I must get out more.  

I get frustrated when things do not go my way, self importance I suppose, wanting it my way, just like a spoiled PM does.  It's not pretty is it.  I supsect the driver today, if he actually arrived, I saw no van, did not ring the bell, he may have tapped on the door, the drivers do this to avoid touching the bell and risking catching Covid from it!  The fact that all drivers tap the door means the door is less healthy than the bell, but never mind.  Wearing gloves is beyond them.

These things canny be the Good Lord trying to expose the corrupt being inside of me, I am all to well aware of that!  However, it is strange that so many things have gone wrong recently, small things, like laptops.... 

Anyway, next time I will use OPD, much more responsible, but dearer.

 

Last night, by a majority of around 60, the Conservative Party voted against enabling schools to feed hungry children over Christmas.  This to save a few pounds from a government that has wasted Billions this year alone.  Five Tories voted against this bill, one having to resign her position this morning. The rest, including 5 Scots Tory MPs voted for the bill.  One abstained, Cowardly Dougie Ross, the Scots Tory leader.

Here is, what I am informed, an up to date menu from the Commons Tea Room. Here, in similar manner, is the Dinner menu.

Many are asking why those MPs on £70,000 and more a year, not counting their expenses, bits on the side and newspaper writings, why are these individuals getting subsidised meals?  Drinks in the many bars are also subsidised and to end this would create a bad feeling in the House.  Personally I think that may be a good idea and pre Christmas a good time to do this.

 

Wednesday Grump!

 

Yesterday morning I looked through my grubby window at the sun glinting on the rusting leaves opposite.  A short individual hastened by supermarket shopping in mind, dog walkers appeared, the dogs once unleashed racing to meet their friends, tails wagging happily, slowly behind them the owners gossipped about the same gossip as the day before.  Children meanwhile were being dragged unwillingly to school, some ensuring they kicked every fallen leaf, others annoying mum by asking the question "Why?"  As the sun broke through the gray clouds the world appeared a happy place.

This morning no sun appears, instead rain continues to fall, as it has done all night, drenching the park leaves scattered across the paths.  Mums, hidden under umbrellas to protect their hair, urge the children on as they walk to school, concerned less with their education, more with avoiding spoiling the new haircut.  Dogs meet happily, owners less keen.  The 'moderate' breeze (The language used by weathermen requires improvement I say) shakes the raindrops from the branches and takes the loosened leaves with it across the faces of those passing by.  Even the traffic appears slower, rain does not usually slow these drivers down, yet less traffic is heard and that less keen on racing than normal.

Wind and rain, the one condition that postmen fear.  I look forward to paper mache being deposited through the door later today.  

 

                                            Gaurdian
 

 The sulk has done it again.  His bully boy ways, well known in Eton, has seen him offer £60 million - he says - to Manchester to do what he tells them.  The Manchester mayor has told him what he really wants and so Boris has sulked, remember he was roundly abused the last time he went there, and held back nearly £40 million of that as punishment for disobedience.  The inefective pandemic policy that has failed throughout the nation, especially in England, continues with a mixed lockdown in various places, none of which are required by local NHS operators.  Once again Dominics view, supported by mixed scientific advice, encouragement from money men whom no-one knows, and Boris's sheer incompetence rules the day.  Manchester standing up and disagreeing with Boris has sent him into a sulk, this man is Prime Minister!  It must be remembered that Manchester supported Boris in the last election, many up north turned away from the Labour party and voted Tory!  This was to support Brexit and remove the black immigrant from the country, but we are not supposed to say that.  Here we see how much regard Boris has for those voters.

 

Afternoon, the rain still rains, only those who must go out do so.  I remain inside wasting my life.  So far I have downloaded the census returns for the town from 1841 - 1911, we are in fact two towns and the other one's census will be downloaded soon.  Doing this I was struck by the confused manner of census operation and how the town has grown every ten years.  People talk as if in the past the townhad always been the same, they are ignoring the constant changes that have occurred, no town stands still, no town has 'always been like this' until now.  Growth throughout the 19th century and into the 20th, all this ended after the last war when items made here were being produced cheaper in the far east, the town slowly faded at that time.  People here consider life was better when they were young in the 50's and in many ways they are correct, however much of that lies in their personal memories and forgets the many fears and woes of youth.  Those pictures in old photographs looked back to a better day while grumbling that kids today do not know how lucky they are.  It was ever thus, these are the 'Good old days.'

 

 

 

Saturday Cogitation

 

 

 

I've finished a book!

This is the first book I have got through in ages.  This is not from having ceased trying to read, I just could not be bothered with all the big words.  The effort to read was too much, possibly 'Lock Down' having an effect, but few words other than those required to identify items on supermarket shelves or football results were asked for by me.  This obviously did not stop me buying books!  The shelf is creaking with unread words, none in cuneiform but some dealing with that sort of thing, others just cheap, old books, that were a sudden desire.  They are now collecting dust until the right time to read them.  One lass sent me the wrong book, they all look the same don't they?  When I pointed this out and offered to keep the wrong, but perfectly acceptable book, and happily pay for it she allowed me to keep it for free.  I doubt she paid much in the first place, it is quite aged.  That was good.  I think she may be working for home for 'pin money' selling books she has collected from all around.  Good luck to her.  'Be Inspired' is the name she goes under on Amazon, though the rest of the books in her bookshop did not inspire me today.   I will however keep a look out.

Paiul Theroux's book is a condensed version of his travels.  I like his books, well written and honest. The tales do occur some time ago but allow us a glimpse into the lives of many in far flung places often in difficult times.  'The Great Railway Bazaar,' 'The Old Patagonian Express,' 'The Kingdom by the Sea,' where they miss Edinburgh for no good reason, and other travels are detailed.  These are shortened versions of his books put together in 1991 so a bit dated but still worth a read I say.  

I of course paid little for it.  

Did you know that there is an election occuring in the USA?  They kept that quiet didn't they?

It appears that the present President, a madman by all accounts who suggested first that the Coronvirus did not exist, even though he was informed about this in January, and then told his subjects to take Bleach to cure it!  Two did and died apparently.  He also caught the virus, he says, and recovered informing his people not to be afraid of the virus.  He ignored the 200,000 dead and millions till suffering while it appears he tries to stifle free health care in the US.  

Joe Biden is the other man.

That's all we need to know to vote for him, whoever he is.

 

 

As I look up from this monotonous Celtic v Rangers game I note the traffic has not lessened this Saturday in spite of the county being in a tighter 'lock down' from today.  Nothing appears to have changed, most here obey the rules and Saturday shoppers are ignoring them as much as usual.  To many football matches to watch for me to stir outside but as the death rate is higher I suspect the care homes are suffering a bit once again.  That is, both patients and staff!

 

Deal or No Deal...

                                                                                        Euro News

Boris has always made it clear,  by saying he does not wish a 'No Deal' that he has always wished for a 'No Deal' situation with the EU.  This is almost within his grasp.  The EU does not wish it, the thinking population does not wish it, the unthinking Brexiteers and the Money Men such as Rees-Mogg do, they will make a killing from this.  Indeed someone has suggested Boris makes statements on cue so that some are watching the markets fall and then rise, ths lining their pockets.  Could our PM be involved here?  The economic disaster that awaits us all, confirmed by the 'Daily Express' telling us all will be well, on top of the virus he has made a hash of controlling, Dominics Herd Immunity does not work, ask the dead, will add to food shortages, unemployment and Boris running away, to the USA if Trump wins I guess.

 

 

Steam Dream

 

 

Another day with nothing to report, so here is a picture of the 'Night Scotsman' departing Kings Cross in the 1930s.  I acquired it on the web forums and canny make out the name at the top to acknowledge the pic, looks like 'Lake,' a photogrpaher.  It is an excellent image, full of action, striking at first sight and it is about railways, steam railways and this is always good.  

 

Just imagine the train journey in the 20s or 30s.  This train, which I have discovered by 1932 only took passengers beyond Edinburgh, Edinburgh had the 10:35 service with 1st and 3rd class sleeper cars, this train, with varying coach numbers dependent on the season, could take 14 coaches half of which were similar sleepers, through the night to Glasgow, Perth, Dundee and Aberdeen.  The Mail coach went to Edinburgh.  

Imagine being cooped up with a stranger in a twin bedded 3rd class sleeper?  It would be hoped you got along.  If you used the sitting accomodation, six or 8 persons in a compartment, probably full of smoke, someone chattering, another snoring, the train rattling along at night with smoke coming in the window opened for ai, worse if the trip took you through tunnels, some wishing it closed, another wishing it open, the hazards of communal life.  

Consider also the war years when travel was restricted and the train over crowded.  Men in uniform sitting on kit bags in the passageways, smoke again filling the air, draughts however would get in somewhere in the corridor, they always did.  Of course during wartime no lights could show, just in case you were attacked, this would increase the crowded 'fug' all around.  

For myself, a quiet compartment and a seat at the window so I could look out at twinkling lights in the distance, not during the war obviously, would be cheery enough.  A sleeper would be nice, if I could afford the 1st class price and avoid snoring companions.  Not much of a view however.  The noise of the steaming train, the occasional whistle sounding warning, the shaking and 'clickety-clack' on the rails would lull me to slumber.  I'm in the mood for a late night train journey now.

 

Sunday Dawdle

 

In betweenfootball matches I took a dawdle across the park.  Sun shining, cloudy sky blue, few around in park yet in spite of a chill a young couple sat smoking funny cigarettes possibly thinking it was summer.  Nothing exciting was happening, even the dog walkers were not to be found.  Several men had been lumbered with the kids however.  One man I passed had two, dressed in football shirts, racing to the park, dad carrying the ball, kids dreaming of glory.  Another was taking his 4 year old into Argos (does this shop ever close?) she ready to spend all his money.  Yet another was walking several in a manner of a man herding sheep, I suppose that is the only way with a crowd.  It's times like these that I miss the family.  Even though the brutes are all big lumps now I miss the wee kids hanging around, they think differently, act differently and are small enough to pick up and dump on their mother.

 

 

The million pound or so being spent repairing the mess that was the High Street has led to people bemoaning the works being in the way.  This town creates moaners in a way that makes me jealous.  I cannot moan like them.  The grumble about the street then grumble about people repairing it!  Once finished they will grumble about how it looks, the cost and what ought to have been done, though they themselves did not suggest one idea before now.

 

 
The Old Town Hall does its best to rise above all the goings on, including the erection of a Hotel complex (that is not required) that is costing umpteen million, paid for by a council that cuts services (Tory council) and thinks this a good way to spend money.  Even Dominic would think this weird.

 

The rusty leaves are abundant on the ground now, the chill is with us always, the sun appears in the wrong place, low down, and I have been putting the heating on.  This does not bode well for the next few months...

 

8. The Sumerians - Fall of the First Cities

 

 

This is the video I talked about yesterday.  I forgot to link to it as I was rushing to get ready for the football!  Be warned, it is very long and needs to be taken in half hour sections.  Well worth it mind.  The computerised graphics are helpful, the photos good, and the History quite good also.  As always there is room for debate but watch it anyway.  It appears to be some sort of Podcast to which he has added pictures.  Enjoy two hours worth!

 

 

Sumer Writing

Waiting for the football last night I watched this excellent programme, on ancient Sumer.  The Sumerians appeared in the far distant past, possibly from the hills, possibly from the desert, or even possibly arriving by sea not long after the Ice Age ended and sea levels even in the Gulf rose high, some say as high asd a 13 storey building.  

Around 5500 BC they began to erect huts used as temples at Eridu, now far to the south in Iraq.  The civilisation flourished once they understood how to manage the land and by use of the massive amount of crops they grew became wealthy and the number of cities grew.  

By 3500 BC huge numbers lived in cities, some 20,000 or so in URUK the capital itself, clearly an elite had risen and the masses worked the land and gave their craftsmanship to the state.  This would entail grumbling similar to what we hear daily around us, but obviously not from ourselves.

This also required a better means of accounting, and these people were good at accounting.  Clay tablets were used to keep records and over the years a form of writing developed, civil servants arose and multiplied, administrators took their important pompous positions, and soon writing concerning numbers, merchandice and payment became what is now called literature.  (This does not include the daily press, obviously).  

To think that those first words, soon developed from indications of how many sheep had been sold or how much Beer had been given to workers, those words today allow us into the minds of a people 5500 years from us.

They do not appear to be much different from us.

It was the thought of what writing can do for us that struck me, not for the first time, and how powerful this is.  Printed words take us back thousands of years, into foreign minds, new understandings in science, maths (the Sumerians were good at numbers, they gave us 60 seconds in a  minute, and had complicated maths long before the Greeks were thought off), farming techniques, stories and histories, many of which kings of old gathered together with the intention of helping them rule better. 

It is also interesting that as far away as China and in South Americas that writing developed not that much later.  Growing population leading to growth of cities, dominationg personalities, and need for organisation appearing at almost the same time everywhere.      

Note: Any spelling mistakes here are in fact 'Sumerian' spellings.

   

Wednesday Mumbling

As the sky darkens and large raindrops, almost but not quite hail stones, hammer down I begin to wonder why people are fumbling about in the park opposite with torches, banners and tape.  I do not wish to be nosy, I just want to know what is going on.  What sort of individual participates in such activities when the weather is so bad? 

A couple of hours later, while I was attempting to identify the new Heart of Midlothian players in the first 'Bet Fred Cup' match, it became obvious some sort of Map type game was underway.  This involved lots of fit people running around, checking off various marked spots in the park and elsewhere before returning to base.  All very exciting, if you like that sort of thing.  

We have all done this in one way or another in the (distant) past.  Late summer, early Autumn fun, wandering in the early evening, crashing through piles of fallen leaves, chasing who knows what, following the leader who clearly knows what he is doing, possibly.  This is how we train army officers.  Anyone who asks any regiment of the British Army, "Can your officers read maps?" will get a negative response.  This is why!

The football was interesting, if only because it was my team, my home for so many years.  The dubious penalty that won the game was unfortunate but the best team won.  Not that the visiting manager was pleased I must say.  I wonder why?

 

Boris made a speech yesterday offering massive amounts of money, making the nation a green energy leader (by stealing Scotland's green energy) and a lot of Blah! Blah! Blah! that we have become used to.  I followed bits on Twitter and gave up.  Boris is great on promises, making brash statements and being 'Churchillian.'  Nothing of value ever comes of it.  Churchill of course would never have allowed him anywhere near the front bench.

We have debts, we have an uncontrolled virus, and even Scotland are struggling at the moment to control this, soon we will have the absurd Brexit final.  Stock up now for the many things that will not be available after December 31st, especially fresh foods.  Get a garden quick and start planting!

 

Post, Rain, Coal Mines,

 

 

The weathermen said 'Rain in afternoon.'  "Good!" said I, and before noon wandered down to the Post Office with my two packets.  The sun shone the sky was blue, it was even warm on the far side of the street, so I crossed over, slowly these days annoying the motorists, and wandered happily into the shop.  I was in so quick I forgot to put on my mask and risked a £100 fine.  I told the sweet Asian lass at the counter (I only go there because she always smiles at me) I was Boris Johnson's dad, so she let me off.  £2:14 paid, change pocketed, xerox paper bought, I was down to my last sheet, and off I went back home.  Naturally the sun had gone, the sky was dark gray, the rain hammered down, and I was fair drookit by the time I got home.  I am still wet now, my hair cold and clammy.  Was the cloud waiting for me?  Could it be the BBC had got it wrong?  Before noon and the rain was falling, now, after one pm the sun is out again and I am still cold!  It is a good job I am not one to complain, that's all I can say.

 

I just typed in 'Freefotos rain' on 'images' and found many excellent free fotos.  At least they appear free and I am making use of them.  Very useful when you do not get out as much as you would like. I had to get out this morning to post the family details I had been looking into.  My mothers side were all miners from Fife, and it appears that between the early 1600s and almost 1800, some say much later, miners were enslaved to the Lairds who ran the mines.  Coal being important, using trees for firewood banned, the Lairds ensured worers were available for this horrid, hard, dirty, dangerous work by passing laws forcing them, and their descendents, to work for them in their mines.  Moving location was outlawed, wages low, danger to life high.  Add to this small cottages, not always healthy, poor diet, no NHS, and lots of children, it can be seen that attitudes towards coal owners would not be based on love!  

I note that not only do my forefathers first appear in the East Neuk of Fifearound 1620 but they marry people who also cannot move on.  This does not help chasing up relatives, especially with the Scots habit of giving one child grandad's name.  So we have Colin and Robert repeated endlessly over generations, not helped by other family lines doing similar.  The Scottish Mining Website gives details of many accidents, about 5 deaths a month in Scots pits, during the 19th century alone.  The uncles I knew in Cowdenbeath, realeased from slavery by their time, would not allow their sons to go through what they endured.  All got apprentiships somewhere else. 

My grandfather had 11 children.  Two died early, and he went through 3 wives to get them, they too died early.  Not unusual in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.  On those few occasions I have had to work physically hard I see it bears no relation to men working with pick and shovel down a mine in which the coal face may be less than 2 feet high!  The dust, physical difficulty, bad, uncaring management, and low wage makes it difficult for me to complain at the work I have been involved with.  

My mother had a story concerning a family member, possibly a brother of my granddad, who became a manager in a pit.  The family cut him off as if he had died!  This was a crossing over to the other side that could not be forgiven, and never was.

 

Cartridge Replacement

 

 

Early this morning I trooped off to Tesco, I had no choice.  Milk and bread was low and the colour toner in the printer had died.  It died while producing the last page of my days work leaving the last page, the one with the colour picture on the top, looking like it had been dragged through a hedge backwards.  Typical of my life these days.

So I picked up the needful, took the stair escalator up to the top floor, found the empty cartridge stand (please take this caqrd to the checkout and wait forever while a member of staff collects this froma  store somewhere in the depths of the building).  I took the appropriate card '300' 'Colour' and limped down the stairs to the checkout.

Linda, the helpful as always lass, too the card and gave it to the man who was doing all the running for her this morning.  Later, much later, he returned, she scanned the item (I was using the dangerous 'self service' ones) and popped the cartridge in my bag.  Good service as always, though she had to return and help me pay for it as the machine would not let me. 'Help is coming' he lied!  

Thrilled to be back home in one piece, thrilled I had what I required, thrilled I placed the cartridge on the printer to await insertion, and then on the cartridge in big black letters I saw the word 'BLACK.'

I sobbed for a few minutes.  

 

Having breakfasted on two unhealthy bacon rolls (stale and must be used up) I decided to keep the black toner and head up the road to Sainsburys and find a colour one.  No point in using Tesco again, too much fuss, it would take to long, the girl would be embarassed, and in the store, hands covered in hand sanitizer, enough for a days shopping I say, I found the colour ones available for £18 each.  A set of balck and colour ones were also available, for £40!  I took two colour, using the card hides the cost, and wondered about the price of the other set!  Now back home, in time for lunch, a time to peruse the things I ought to have been doing today and wonder if they will ever get done, I now await what next will go wrong.

Ah I have to insert the colour toner...

 

The cartidge came out of its wee plastic wrapping, eventually, out of the box, out of the foil wrapper and after removing the sticky protective bit I removed the old and inserted the new.

Would not work!

Ten minutes of removing and replacing both cartidges later it all worked, once I had switched it off and on again!  Now it works OK, all is well.  However as I was about to print the next batch of research I noticed a fault.  I had to go through all I had done previously and make use of a pen to amend things.  There is not enough paper left to redo them all.  This will be finished tomorrow, I will be finished long before then!  Bah!

 

I note Boris has got his latest Bill through the house, the one where he overrides Devolution and attempts to kill Scotland.  Many Tory MPs objected and threatened this and that - few bothered on the day however.  Any Bill that justofies breaking the law must be a sign of corruption, this however is so common these days few notice and no Tory in the House will oppose it.  English members on all sides will support killing Scotland, they know England requires Scotland's money to survive. 

Where Does Your Belief Come From?

 

ITV

The dafties are out again.  

Several things are noticeable.  For one they are once again almost entirely white, and this in the centre of London. Only one or two non white faces appear.  

For another thing the posters are all self made.  If you watch demonstrations you will find the 'Socialist Workers Party' printing presses have been hard at work furnishing posters for 'the people on the street!'  That middle class led 'workers' movement is not to be seen here, and that is interesting.

Bill Gates, 5G and the vaccine are to be condemned by these folks, the folks who have come to listen to David Icke, one time goalkeeper and present day 'heid the ba,' who opposes Lock Down, Government and asks that the Lizard creatures who impersonate the royal family are removed.  

The only differnce between this lot and Trumps rally's are the guns carried by Trumps followers.

The impression given is that these people believe something.  The information reaching them contradicts what medical people have been saying as well as the dubious English government statements that in truth, are always difficult to believe.  

But what do they believe?  Do they believe the same things?  Are they opposing one thing and not the others? Do they really think Bill Gates will inject them and take over their minds?   The internet has already done that.  Do the really think 5G is killing them?

The web is a great place to put lies, as President Putin knows too well.  Already he has been placing ideas in social media in an effort to have Trump re-elected, I canny think why.  Lies repeated, whether big or small, will always find a home, especially if repeated often enough.  Paul Dacre did that with the 'Daily Mail' for thirty years.  

Who started the lies about Bill Gates?  Who offered evidence that the vaccine is mind control?  Who can give facts re 5G or indeed 4G also?  Those working in the business at the ground level appear not too concerned, why are these non engineers worried?   

To be honest there are not that many people at the protest, more are to be found in shopping centres, wearing masks and avoiding the winter flu, colds and coronovirus that is floating about.  Reminds me of the story in one paper today about the man on holiday refusing to believe the virus was dangerous, now he is in the ICU regretting things.  

 

What makes people believe such things?  What evidence have they seen?  What 'expert' do the listen to?  Erik von Daniken published several books in the 60's offering 'evidence' that aliens had been on the planet.  All was quickly debunked but people continued, and still continue to believe such thngs.  Never a day goes past when a tabloid publishes a picture of a spacecraft somewhere, usually over the USA, proving aliens visit us.  Not one astronomer, professional or amateur, has ever mentioned space craft.  What is it in these, seemingly ordinary people, that makes them seek to travel, maskless, to London, for a protest?   A protest that will do nothing, as most attempt to follow the script, even if they doubt the leaderships ability and much of what they read.  They do however look to medical opinion, not the David Ickes of this world for information.  

How can you be sure your beliefs are correct?

 

Self-Service Tills

 Dave Walker

 

I'm tense these days.  Two months of fighting laptops which have minds of their own, and are still expressing them, are not helped by having to reach Sainsburys at lunchtime.  Many people enjoy wasting a day and a half queueing up at checkouts, I am not one of them.  Many people enjoy the crowds pushing and shoving, all wearing masks of course, while wondering why the shop has changed the layout and moved the one thing you require to a far distant shore. I am not one of them.

Once you have evaded the monstrous mass you find the checkouts, at least those with staff, have a long queue, mostly six feet apart, and with trolleys stuffed to the brim with things they really do not need. A change to 'Own Brand' rather than the expensive brands bought would save some people £30 a shop in my view.  I learned not only that the taste is not much different but 'Shops own brands,' which today go under various names, often contain less unhealthy stuff, and are much cheaper.  

The waiting proletariat looked set for the duration, panic buying for 'Lock Down' has begun, and so I went to the self service checkout.  

These machines, brought in to save the company money on staff costs, are supposed to ensure you can leave quickly, this is a lie!  My experience of Technology recently encourages me to avoid such beasts, today I had to use one.  It did not take long until I was banging my head on the scanner, just like the two men behind me and the woman at the far end.  The one member of staff on call to deal with all these tills stood screaming 'HELP!' at the rear  while waving a white flag, meanwhile the manager, with the help of another fresh member of staff and the security guard popped Valium into customers mouths. 

Eventually we made it up the road.

I noticed one man, one of those behind me, walking somewhat dazed, not as dazed as he will be when he gets home and discovered he has a car waiting at the supermarket car park still.   Another was seen to have half finished his cheap Brandy bottle, bought I suspect, in case he had to use the checkout by hmself.

There were still lines of people, the same ones, at the checkouts as I left.

 

Indoor Musings

 

I am thinking of renaming this blog 'The View From My Window.'  It appears that for the next six months that may be all I see.  Now I am happy enough hiding from virus's, 'Lock Down' in my view is better than pubs and street raves, football grounds and cafes filled with folks sharing Coronovirus freely, but it is a drag.

The view is quite good here, however, the rust is beginning to show on the leaves, Autumn arrived today, and with no leaves I get a better view, but mostly of rain.  Very misty last night, cleared by the time I rose, a sign of Autumn if nothing else is.

 

Feeling great yesterday after some exercise I got up early to visit Tesco.  This was a mistake.  Feeling good yesterday has left my knees aching today.  How does that work?  This limited my shopping as I am beginning to stock up for Brexit Day, January 1st 2021.  The Brexiteers claim all will be well, however, I noted yesterday that those Englanders living in the EU will find their cash blocked by the banks because of some 'administrative' problems in London.  I tried not to laugh.  Those who wanted Brexit while living in France and Spain do not encourage sympathy.  

I will however continue to stockpile against the wishes of the government who claim all will be well, it will be for them, lining their pockets on Russian Rubles, and I only hope the Butcher can continue to provide sheep for lunch in January.

 

This indoor life has encouraged tea drinking.  It appears to me the cup is never empty.  As it has occasionally been quite warm the tea drinking has escalated, surely this cannot be good for me.  This reminds me of my mother and her friends who could drink pots of tea, with a pot of hot water standing by to refill teapot, all day.  I use no teapot, I do have one, bought in an attempt to save cash by reusing teabags.  This was OK for a while but six old bags can either be too strong, or too weak, depending on bags.  I may have to look at this again to save money.

 

Of course being trapped indoors means there is plenty of time to do all those wee jobs ignored for the past 'wee while.'  This is of course true and I assure you I have every intention of doing them, tomorrow.

In fact some jobs have been done, others have been noted, and materials obtained for the work in some cases.  Several weeks of laptop problems have interfered somewhat with this and now the problems ease I must begin to fix things broken since Adam was a boy.  Almost everything I possess is either second hand, broken, or aged, just like me.  I was asked a while ago regarding the age of a jacket I was wearing, "About 20 years or so, just like the shirt," I replied.  The poor woman had a fit.  Wearing something that old was beyond her ability to comprehend.  Good job she does not see what is in the cupboards.  I suspect nothing she owned was more than a year old.  'If it works use it, if it wears well, use it' I say.  Modern stuff may be fun but do we actually require the latest technology?  Do we not just require the technology we use?  New clothes are good, if we need them and they are available in the charity shop.  Charity shops are struggling also these days, too little gifted during 'Lock Down' and now too much handed in at the first opportunity.  It is also difficult to get into one with the limitations on numbers allowed inside.

We are however much better off than many, we do not suffer war, or even Civil War like the USA will soon endure.  We are fed while others use Food Banks, we can walk while others cannot.  I give thanks I can see blue sky and sunshine, open spaces and birds singing in the trees.  Some people cannot see these things, I am well off.

 

A Walk in the Park...

 

 

 

Saturday morning I hobbled around the Public Gardens, donated by Sydney Courtauld in 1888.  The Braintree and Bocking Public Gardens website says this:-

From the time of his entry into the business, Sydney rose to be in charge of Engineering at the Bocking and Braintree factories. From 1886 – 98 the business suffered a serious downturn such that had never been experienced before, but this was the moment when Sydney decided to give his garden to the people of Braintree.  Living at Bocking Place, he conceived a great idea. Although he built a new house on the same site in 1887, the garden was the same.

Across the Causeway road was another part of the garden of Bocking Place and Sydney seeing the thundering horse drawn traffic up the Causeway, determined to make an area for people, particularly children, could walk more safely and “whither the tired mechanic could resort, with his wife and children and where the industrious tradesman could escape for a brief spell from his cares and worries of business”. What we see today is his legacy to the people of Braintree & Bocking.

 

The place is awash with trees of all sorts and a vast array of plants, now tended by who knows who?  The onsite gardener is no more and costs must be cut.  I know many volunteer to work there, I am not one of them!

 

When opened the people celebrated by a cheering crowd wandering around the town and at night lighting a great bonfire on the open spaces along the road.  Much fun was had, no TV in those days, and no little beer was drunk that night.

 

 The trick of course is to go in early, before mum and the wee ones beging running around screaming and yelling, the kids not the mums.  Mostly peaceful, birds singing, Bees buzzing, and far too many midge like creatures hovering unexpectedly where I walk.  Only one woman appeared, she exercising by walking around the perimeter and turneg back again, once she saw me.  

This may be the last weekend of proper sunshine for some time.  Autumn begins officially on Tuesday 22nd and the leaves are already turning brown and falling in piles from the trees.  Ideal for kids to run through but a horrid forewarning of winters approach.

 

Today we are confronted with a shameless Matt Hancock offering a future 'Lock Down' and indicating that if it happens it is all your fault.  No shame fro the failing 'Serco' Test & Trace system, a system which tells people to travel 500 miles for a test, no shame for giving a friend, who gave him £100,000 for his constituency, no shame for incompetence.  

Life is Good under the Tories.