Christmas Wooly Angels

 

It is Christmas week and once again the great nits have been er, hold on, that should read 'Great Knitters' have been showing off their talents by knitting small angels and placing them on railings across the town.  This has become another of the many Christmas activities that we now must have, or the season loses something.  I note passers-by have taken all of them, one by one.  The post box has not been crowned with a Xmas hat as yet, at least not one near me anyway.  Other places have covered all sort so things with such needlework.  I suppose they enjoy it, they gather together, make friends, have a laugh and enjoy the hobby.  No harm in it.  I have not joined them however.

Christmas joy continues with Rishis refusing to budge on nurses pay.  I wonder why?  He will not interfere in the rail strike, apart from paying millions to the rail companies, and has ignored the postal strike, as far as we know.  Clearly they are out to ensure leaving the EU meant making the most of turning workers into serfs.  Rishi would like this, I suspect he considers himself a Maharajah.  

Jeremey Clarkson has encouraged stripping Meghan and parading her through the streets, but he has mumbled an apology, far down the Mail Online.  

Ambulance staff are striking, at least those not worn out by exhaustion, as indeed the nurses striking have been.  The millionaires with their private health hospitals care not.

People are watching prices rise, the water people have just increased by monthly bill to £19, I suspect to pay for all the dumping sewage fines they have received.  Gas and electric rises will come in a couple of months. 

My latest pie delivery arrived in time for Christmas.

Nicola meanwhile is trying to allow men in skirts to be called 'women.'  This is another of the satanic episodes that have been unleashed in recent years in the UK, and indeed elsewhere in the 'west.'

First it was accepting gays, then same-sex marriage, now it is 'trans.'  We are plumbing new depths of lunacy in the nation.  The churches which have failed to oppose this are dying out, those who follow scripture will grow but face constant opposition, much of this from the police, who are now the 'Thought police' in the UK.  I almost said 'Stasi.'

Christians must be aware this will increase, and soon prayer and Christian activities will be 'hate crimes.'  I have mentioned this before, but few are listening.

O come, O come, Emmanuel - (Piano/Cello) - The Piano Guys

Success Saturday!

I am flushed with victory!  I went out, trudged manfully, and lower than ever, across the wild Arctic like landscape (That will be flushed away by the rain tomorrow), avoided the penguins and polar bears said to be in the neighbourhood, posted my last card, collected money from the 'Hole in the wall,' and made it home again without falling over.  

OK, I admit that the council have cleared much from the town centre, that some roads are so busy they are almost clear, but still, I promenaded happily and spent not a penny!  This in spite of the temptation of shops and stalls that are out on the make.  Home to dump the cap, gloves, big boots and big coat, to eat lamb chops (reduced), drink tea and await the football at 12:30.  

Nothing else happened.

I fell asleep....

Me, a Fall Guy?

Like the view?  

This was mine today.  At least it was after I slipped on the ice just as I stepped down out of the gate.  I made a grab for the iron railings but found myself upside down on the ice.  No harm done,  though the council will wonder why the paving slab under the ice has cracked.  I rose to my feeble feet as quickly as a panther rising to chase his prey.  An ageing, arthritic panther that is.  A passing car slowed down and waved, I waved back, and slithered off towards Tesco, walking on the road as much as possible.

I am glad I am male.  Women's bones are more susceptible to breaking as they get older.  The Infirmary in Edinburgh always had at least five women in for broken 'leg of femur,' while I worked there.  A couple of men, caused by a combination of ice and drink, were also to be found, but mostly women.  Female bones are more open to arthritis as they age, which does not help them here.

I had already been out quite safely.  Earlier I had walked via the roadway to Sainsburys and back, but as always I must go to Tesco for things only they have, and indeed much cheaper than Sainsburys.  All was well then, even though the car park had not been gritted as it usually is.  I bought what I thought needful, aware that next week the shop will be crowded from early on, and paid an enormous amount of money to the struggling supermarket.  

Having raised myself from the ground and slid around to Tesco I made a point of only obtaining what was required, so naturally I found other things also and spent another bundle of money.  Delighted that I could use the bag as a weight to help me keep my balance, or at least that was the idea.  I propelled myself slowly along the side road, and carefully over the pavement back home.  

For some reason I have several muscle pains tonight, I wonder why?

There is no more news.

There was no more post.  The postmen are clearly refusing to walk across slippery ground.  This annoys me.  I realise the weather will change on Sunday, wet rain will wash icy snow away (is there any other kind of rain but wet?), thus the postmen can get out and do their job.  Only an occasional van went by today, and they did not stop for me.

I did however, receive via Amazon, a bottle of Viking Whisky!  This came from one of my secret admirers.  The others have remained secret so far, and that for quite a few years now.  Naturally I have sent off her (cheap) present in return.  It ought to arrive about April.  

Card Happy

It was Sir Henry Cole who sent the first Christmas card, and then went on to organise the 'Great Exhibition' of 1851 and the Victoria and Albert museum.  Clearly a man who liked to work, he created the card as he did not have enough time to write his customary Christmas letter.  A good, simple idea, which led onto a big business opportunity.  Cole himself made a thousand cards, kept half to himself and sold the rest through the shop, creating thereby the flow of cars that cause so much pleasure and upset annually.  I suppose it is the simple idea, one that is right in front of us, that once recognised, makes a man a profit.  The yo-yo, the hula-hoop, that plastic thing people use to throw a ball for the dog, those small rubber bands that became a craze for kids the other year.  Simple things which one as simple as I never think off.  

So far I have had one card via the Royal Mail, one handed to me, and hopefully dozens in the post all containing money.  This will be a change from last year, and indeed, all the years previous to that.  With a post strike on several people have indicated they are yet to post cards!  One week to go, a months worth of mail sitting there, and they have not yet posted!  How stupid are people?  These are the types that will complain the post is slow.  I expect they complain about nurses, trains and everything else that has been on strike for long enough yet they have not noticed.

Strikes like this unknown since 1979 yet the government happy to do nothing.  What a shame we have no opposition bar the Scottish and Welsh Nationalists.

Wednesday Opinion

My opinion is that it is very cold.

It has been very cold for a few days but last night, though the temp offered was no worse than before, it was the coldest so far.  Quite why this is I canny say.  However, the heat has been on, it is still cold when it is off, and it will be like this for a few more days I think.  This may be caused by clear skies above (can you get clear skies below?) and what cloud there is happens t be freezing.  Possibly freezing fog tonight, oh goody.

Rail strikes abound, post strikes continue, and the nurses are about to join in yet the papers are full of Harry and Meghan.  Yesterday it was 'Sickly Come Dancing,' and tomorrow more slagging off the workers.  It is interesting that no-one makes sensible comments about the reasons for the strikes, the media emphasise greedy workers want money, they ignore the cuts to their pensions, amendments to work hours and conditions, and support one side only, with closed ears to argument.  Cleary the failing government is enjoying this.  They consider this will win them votes, but those have already been lost.

Nothing else matters today.  

The 'coming of the season of goodwill' has caused ructions in shops everywhere, crowded shops, hassled people, few trains and buses crowded also, weather cold, wet, damp and dreary as winter always is, and money we don't have flowing out from every pore.  Just think how much credit has been spent on a wide variety of greedy credit cards?  How will that ever be repaid?  Greedy banks will take the money but care nothing about you!

Happy Christmas...

A Trudge to Get Bread

As expected we rose to a white landscape this morning.  Slow traffic edged its was along the highway, occasional workers coughed and muttered as they slipped their way past.  Occasional dogwalkers muttered also while trying to find a clear spot for the dog.  Clearly, not all succeeded.  

Much against my better judgement I joined the cheery throng, once the schoolkids had passed by.  Whether they were off to school or off school I knew not, but I let them go first.  By the time I got fed, dressed and had my boots on, the traffic was beginning to flow normally.  Clearly the majority had remained indoors and only the workers and the desperate went out.  I needed bread... 

To get bread I trudged through the snow, being reminded of how hard this could be.  A few inches lay there, pathways already clear down the middle of the path, and at the side areas where children had sought to be the first to leave their footprints in the large white expanse in front of them.  Who can blame them?  Did we all not wish to do that?  And some of you still do!

One man, dressed for the front room, hurried across the park, pulled out his phone, took a quick picture, and ran away back from whence had had come somewhat guiltily.  The rest of us, warmly wrapped and slow moving, ignored him.  Most offered a rueful remark as we passed one another, one woman annoyed at being 'called in' to work when she wanted to take pictures also.  How cruel life is.  I bet her pictures would be better thought out than mine.

At the far end I snapped a shot from an area dominated by the early, and frozen, dog walkers.  I have taken such shots for years yet little changes.  To think that once this was a school ground, and before that a rich man's house?  Before that it appears to have been a field, an old painting shows this in the 1800s with a cow happily wandering about.  All things must change.

 

I had hoped to see the birds behind the church but clearly they were struggling for food at the moment.  None bar an occasional wood pigeon flew by, and they were not stopping.  I wondered how they would feed themselves today, though I suspect peoples gardens would be places to find free offerings in this weather.  Not much I can do to help these days.

My route took me past the freezing Town Hall and the old water fountain, it no longer works of course, but there are less horses, pigs, sheep, cows and buyers these days.  Bottled water appears uppermost today.  Council workers were spreading grit around the area, clearing a safe path, and working up a sweat.  Sadly, we have no equipment that allows me to do this here, just an old stiff brush which merely spreads the stuff and makes it slippier!  I will not tell you how I know this.

The only splash of colour comes from the Post Box.  Note the 'Sat' for Saturday tag, indicating nothing was collected that day.  I suspect it was not collected today either.  Vast quantities of mail fills the Royal Mail offices, little of it finds its way to me however!  I am all in support of the striking workers, however, Royal Mail and this grubby government are not willing to do the deal, the failing attempt to turn the people against the strikers has not yet led to a climbdown by government or their men.  I note however, the nurse will not strike in Scotland as the government their has found a solution to the problem.  Why can the English not do the same?  Simple answer, they do not want a solution, they wish to sell off the NHS to their American friends, line their pockets, and care nothing for the people.

Keir Starmer and the 'Tory Two' Party has failed the workers by refusing to back them, calling for an end to strikes, and even claiming it is impossible to pay the NHS staff more.  This is no longer the Labour Party, this is a man desperate for the top job and he will say anything to get it.  It is time for Starmer to go, he could do nothing when the failing Boris was PM, he failed to remove Liz, and now fails with the latest failing PM, it is time for Keir to leave the show and allow a member of the Labour Party to take over.

Sabbath Snow

With freezing hands, I forgot the gloves, I hobbled down the road this morning.  Last night it fell to minus 4 they say, and the place was white with frozen glory.

Normally, we would not notice just how many spiders webs are hanging about us, but today all was revealed as the dew thereon froze overnight highlighting where the beasties had trod.  The mechanical knowledge of wee creatures that are born, find a corner, and design a web so intricate that engineers today would find baffling is something to admire.

 

 

The warm hearts at the kirk were welcome but a great many remained at home, thus avoiding the walk or drive across icy highways.  Enough of us gathered however to murder six songs, some of them mercilessly, and enjoy the piano playing, I think by Les Dawson!  

 

Tonight however, to the delight of children everywhere, and to the annoyance on grown ups, snow has descended upon us.  Snow, which they say will fall until six in the morning, now blankets the area.  Traffic, such as it is, slowly passes, leaving long trails on the road and exasperating many drivers, though the one who passed just now has no worries it appears, either that or no brakes.  

The heating is on, I am fed and cosy, now to spend time praying for the many friends who have serious troubles.  Why so many at one time I wonder?  Who knows, but age has a play here.  My friend Jesus however, knows all.

 

Cold Stroll

 

Clear skies above and frozen temperatures below, an ideal  winters day.  However, for those who had to walk, drive or cycle to work across a frozen white landscape their impressions may have been unwelcoming.  

The peely-wally moon struggled to be seen in the bright morning air.  Continuing his journey unmindful of the 8 billion below he hung above slowly disappearing as the sun rose higher.  Now taken for granted by us all but in the past early man watched the moon and the stars above circling the earth.  He calculated his journey, not always understanding the difference between a star and a planet, but very early on had worked out how they rotated above us, possibly understanding that we two rotated and moved through space also.

As I was passing, I decided to take the lift to the top of the car park where the frost whitened the layout.  Few park here, most prefer downstairs, inside, and free from chilly weather.  I wanted to see how the sun lay across the houses.

A light blue haze hung across the houses blurring the distant electricity pylons, the ones that power the homes and enrich the power companies.  The heat comes not from the radiators but from opening the bill every month!  It is nice to know the men at the top of such companies will not need council benefits to heat their houses.  

Under these whitened rooftops live some 40,000 souls.  I know this for a fact, partly because of the 2021 census returns indicate this, partly because each and everyone of them was in the shop early this morning stocking up for the weekend and Christmas!  December is a time when shopping must be done the minute the stores open.  Waiting until later means meeting the 40,000 and this includes the kids at the weekend.  

The dads, usually abused by the chattering classes in the media, were out in force once again.  The trailed behind them kids of to gatherings, organised or individual, shops, parties, special events, and things which cost dad lots of money.  One was seen somewhat bewildered by one lass, about 7 years old, who was much in tears though dad did not seem to understand why.  His perplexed expression was a picture.  I winder if he ever sorted this out?

I fought through the crowd and crossed the deserted park.  The grass was beginning to show green by this time, the dogs would be pleased, and the sun was reaching the furthest portions of the grasslands, easing the frost away, though by the time I write this scribble it is already back to zero degrees around here.  It was so cold in the morning I had to open the windows to let the freezing air in to warm up the house!  I might use heating tonight...

Cold, Grave Birds

We awoke to temperatures of minus 1c this morning.  The field opposite had a white sheen of frozen dew, the condensation covered the windows, and while the heating was on the moment I opened the rear window I quickly closed it again!  Too much at 7:30 in the morning!  I wished to rise early and search one particular shop before the crowds gather.  I took the long way round and popped into the graveyard behind the old Congregational Church in the hope of some sunshine glinting on the frost.  I was in time for the birds seeking nourishment, though they insisted on flitting around quickly making it difficult to picture them.  This was the best I could manage, the Robin sitting on the end of a grave deciding whether or not to leap down to the cold grass below.  I caught him just as he leapt behind the solid grave.  This looks like one designed to keep graverobbers out.  Before medical science was better organised medical students would acquire bodies for research, often fresh from graves.  The Ghouls would strike at night, which is why some cemeteries employed guards during the dark hours, and dig up the body and sell to a 'doctor.'  Thus many graves have iron fences, brick walls, or solid brick tombs atop them.  Today, these gather ivy and moss and are welcome perches for the birds of the district.

I searched the shop, every shelf, up and down, all along, and back again.  Naturally what I wanted was not on offer.  The only other likely place was not likely either.  Aint life grand?   Instead, I bought chicken bits from the local butcher, and listened while the girl explained to another customer about the lack of turkeys this Christmas.  With 'Bird Flu' present, and an incompetent government dumping Brexit on the nation, the farming world has been suffering badly off late.  "Turkeys," she said, "Might be available, but if so they will cost an arm and a leg!"  This bothers me not, I eat any old thing at Christmas, but for women like the customer this is important, though not important enough to break the bank.  No reason for turkey at Christmas anyway, just be grateful to have something to eat, and heat on which to cook it!

Is this a Rook or a Crow?  Rooks are usually in a group, Crows individual, and the mob we have around here tend to hang around in two's and three's, so I never know if they are Rooks or Crows.  Maybe they do not know this either?  My beautiful, highly intelligent, and nature loving great niece claims it is a Crow, and she should know.  So I am going with that.  While the Robin was dancing about below, this man sat high up in the tree planted at a graveside many years ago.  He appears untroubled by the cold, well fed, and well able to look after himself.  

How about a blurry, cold, Blue Tit?  Lots of them around here.  Clearly such places, usually quiet, are ideal for wildlife.  Small though it is there are many birds, and a squirrel took off as I approached and sped up a tree into the wilderness there.  I suspect the only thing they fear, apart from one another, are the kids coming out of the church hall.  A kinder garden takes place there, and the approach of toddlers and mums would scare anyone.

 

Joy Filled Freezing Wednesday

Joy at last yesterday late afternoon, Parcelforce collected my box a week late and took it in the right direction.  I expect it to arrive at the destination, a mere 400 miles away, sometime around March!  Joy also when the postman arrived today with a weeks supply of post.  One for someone who does not live here, one a charity, one money coming to me, one a Christmas card, the first so far, and a week late copy of 'Private Eye.'  Of course the parcel from Southampton, sent ages ago, has not arrived, nor has anyone else sent things to me.  I sit here, wearing those fingerless gloves to keep warm while surrounded by candles for the same purpose, looking for the parcel van to stop.  I await in vain.  

The temperature has indeed dropped this afternoon.  The cold from the north was not here last night, it will be here tonight however, and it has already begun to lower the temperature.  Up north snow may fall, here the freeze will be a pain, however, we will cope, as long as pipes do not burst, heaters fall over, and whisky coffee does not run out.  The simplest way to cut costs is to drink hot coffee/tea, place hot water bottle behind back, wrap something around rusting knees, and be happy.  This cuts running costs considerably, as long as you do not have to move about.  Also, as all women know, this is the time to do the ironing!    

Yes ironing, the woman's job not done by women here.  I keep asking for help but get rude answers.  Women I find are very susceptible to taking chocolate, receiving gifts and compliments but hesitate to actually do anything in return.  Tsk!

Last year British Gas sent me a form insuring my gas boiler for a year at no charge.  I found this unusual as I did not request this, nor do I require their insurance.  I ignored the letter, dumped it and moved on.  Today, I received an update asking for £92.76 for another years cover.  Now, I will dump this easily, but how many will be caught out thinking they always covered their boiler this way?  This is a British Gas scam and I wonder why this is allowed?  A free years cover you did not request, followed a year later with a chance to pay through the nose for another years cover?  With the vast profits these crooks are making I suggest they offer another free year to all those who already pay for such cover!

I certainly will not.

Parcelforce and PlusNet Upsetting the World, well me!

I'm peering into the distance.  I work on the basis that the harder I peer, the sooner the 'Parcelforce' man will appear.  This is a similar attitude taken by people standing waiting at bus stops.  As you pass you will notice them staring hard in the direction from which they expect a bus to appear, the harder they look, the sooner the bus will appear, or not as the case may be.  

So I sit here and peer.  

I ought to be fiddling about with the router, though 'fiddling' is to be understood in the terms of 'mass murder,' rather than 'fiddling.'  Once again the brute cut out during the football, five times while Brazil were exhibiting super skill against the Koreans.  My language was not biblical, my attitude not forgiving.

The intention was to call 'PlusNet' this morning but I hesitated until I have tried all the combinations, pulled all the wires, and shot the 'Outreach' engineer.  Unfortunately, or it is fortunate, I have had to await the, as yet unseen, 'Parcelforce' man.  Otherwise I may have been seen hanging around telegraph poles awaiting men in yellow Hi-vis while dangling a variety of weapons sufficient to make the Ukrainians jealous.  As it is the van has yet to appear, my parcel lies awaiting below, and he is rapidly joining the telecoms engineers in my estimation.  This parcel ought to have gone last Tuesday but was refused as they were on strike Wednesday and Thursday.  Insert 'I support the workers,' and 'Grrrrr,' here.  

Having discovered this brute was only giving 20.04, no wonder it is slow, I switched of the router, switched off the laptop, allowed both time to cool down and decide if they wished to work properly or not, then restarted them in due course.  The speed 'leapt up' (this is a misnomer) to 35.63.  Now this is of course better, and may enable watching the football today, however, it ought to be around the 60 mark!  Insert another 'Grrrrrr,' here.

Now I have a life, indeed it could be better but I do have one.  It is also true much of my life is lived through this blessed laptop, therefore when it fails all comes to a halt and I am exposed as trapped on a desert island.  I write a blog on here that few ever read bar those 'spiders' clawing information for Amazon, Google, Facebook and other chancers, but it is fun and an opportunity to shout at the world.  Indeed it was better in times past.  Some have died, some ran away, others drifted off onto Twitter, or family, or even a life themselves.  The rude repartee once enjoyed has lessened considerably over the last few years.  This is a pity.  Of course a great many got bored reading this codswallop, and who can blame them?  I read this and find myself yawning also.  

There is blue sky out there, though the remaining leaves are freezing off the trees.

Rishis Sunak, the temporary PM, is in hiding, Keir, the temporary leader of what was once the Labour Party and is now the red Tories, has decided to attack migrants, not support the striking workers, and probably wants to lead the Tory Party after the next election.  He has all their policies!  What a disgrace, so desperate to become PM he has sold the workers and runs after the Brexit voter.   His Gordon Brown led 'Devolution' amendments have failed miserably in Scotland, as they would.  Not that Keir cares, on the 'Red Wall,' matters to him.  

So the strikers continue to strike, on the railways, the post, the nurses joining them then the doctors and the paramedics.  December under the Tories with only thy right-wing press supporting their corrupt party is a terrible thing.  Of course Boris is behind much of this.  He is stirring rebellion, once Sunak fails at the polls as he must do Boris becomes the one to lead the Conservatives again.  Unless he is in jail of course.  It is time for Sunak to release the 'Russian Report,' and finish Boris.

December Sabbath

I stumbled off this morning to the Kirk in spite of the easterly wind opposing me, the distance apparently increasing week by week, and a woman invited to speak and lead communion as the vicar is still hiding far away in sunburnt India.  

No jealousy here.  

In the end all went reasonably well, I was welcomed by all the women, given a bag off leftover sannies afterwards for lunch, and Rosie spoke well and appeared to know what she was talking about.  Chatting to her afterwards I was impressed, an Anglican woman that knows God I thought.  A lift home and sannies, of various types, for lunch.  Then France beating Poland in the world cup.  No surprise there.

PRAYERS FOR A SICK PERSON 

O Father of mercies and God of all comfort, our only help in time of need: We humbly beseech you to behold, visit, and relieve your sick servant, for whom our prayers are desired. 

Look upon him with the eyes of your mercy; comfort him with a sense of your goodness; preserve him from the temptations of the enemy; and give him patience under his affliction. In your good time, restore him to health, and enable him to lead the remainder of his life in your fear, and to your glory; and grant that finally he may dwell with you in life everlasting; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.