Memories . . .

The other day my wife said: "It's about time we sorted through the cupboard in the study". So we started - but it wasn't long before we came across an old loose-leaf folder. On opening it I got lost in reminiscences. It was the start of a project by my father-in-law to write his memoirs. We encouraged him because his stories were always fascinating. We helped him by typing what he wrote. He was taken ill and took to taping the scripts, which I tried to transcribe but I'm sure there are tapes somewhere which I have not typed out. I'm going to look for them. Unfortunately he died before he finished the story but what we have I am in the process of publishing on blogger.com.
Go to http://spitfireman.blogspot.com and read.
Perhaps it will not have the same effect on you as it has on me because you did not know the man. He was a God-fearing, ordinary bloke who cared about others and had extraordinary insights into life. His memoirs are not finished and never will be because they died with him. But you may consider that what is written down is worth reading.

Whether the Weather is Right?

What's up with the BBC's weather forecasts on their website? Can they not even look out of the window and see what it's like out there? The forecast for my city is given for five days or you have the option of clicking for the 24-hour forecast. The latter is divided into three-hour periods starting at the nearest time to the present which is divisible by three - thus 3.0 am, 6.0 am, 9.0 am and so on. It predicted for 6.0 pm this evening that it would be clear with a temperature of 3 degrees. I looked out of my window at the appointed time to see that quite heavy SNOW was falling and the temperature was 1.5 degrees. Now in Bristol it is almost unheard of for there to be snow before Christmas. It happens very occasionally but not often. So one can forgive the meteorologists for getting it wrong - once. But - time after time I look out of the window to discover that what the weather is doing is nothing like that which was forecast. Perhaps the boffins should get rid of their fancy instruments and go back to watching the cows in the fields and consulting the seaweed.
Medical Bulletin
Woe is me . . . my reliable old Sony tuner/amplifier in my hi-fi is seriously ill. The right hand channel has gone all crackly. I thought it was the speaker - so I swapped them round to test this theory and lo and behold - the right hand channel was still crackling. Oh dear, I fear it is seriously ill. It could even be terminal. What ever happened to Sony's reputation for reliability? After all, it's only 24 years old.

The end of the world . . .

It's happened.
All the soothsayers said it would.
The writings foretold it.
Even the grafitti warned of it.
The Three-and-a-Half Donkeymen of the Apostrophe were seen silhouetted on the dawn horizon and I knew then that this was it.
This was the day of reckoning.
JUDGEMENT DAY!
I knew that I could not face normal routine. Not with that hanging over the whole of mankind.
I stayed home from work - Normal procedures were suspended.
After all - I have a cold!

Death of a Legend

A football legend died on Friday. All the big football clubs marked his death at their matches - some with a minute's silence, some with a minute's applause (I like that).
George Best was a brilliant footballer in his day and nobody can take that away from his memory. I celebrate his skills and recognise greatness when I see it.
Like George I was born in Belfast.
Like George I have problems with vices. I am really struggling with the smoking thing - but I will make it!
Unlike George I don't have the money or the charisma to attract women. He could have any woman he wanted. I am very happy with my long-suffering wife.
He had a wife who loved him. She is beautiful. Many men would kill to have her. She stuck by him through most of his problems but finally had to give up the fight and leave him when he abused even her trust.
George drank his liver to extinction.
He was given a second chance - someone else's liver.
He swore he would look after it and justify the gift of a second chance.
George abused it. Because of that abuse he lost his wife, any sensible respect he should have had and - finally - his life.
We can all see parallels between George Best and our own lives. Things we should do better, things we shouldn't do. We know what we should do - but we don't always have the strength of character to do it.
Why am I taking the time to write this crap?
Because it is important. Because I think "There, but for the grace . . ."

Oh my God! My offspring's a CHAV!

Where did I go wrong? I always brought him up with the idea that normality was good, that ostentation was the root of all evil, that consumerism is the death of mankind and life as we know it. But . . .
HE COMES HOME.
He immediately states that our new LCD flat-screen TV is out of the ark (or even before) because it has a screen based on 4:3 ratio.
He then reminds us that he offered us his 16:9 TV to put in our lounge. When I gently pointed out that his TV had a Cathode Ray Tube (these were invented just before the Big Bang) and that the last time I saw a lump that big it was at Stonehenge he played the Chav card by saying that 16:9 was the ONLY format to watch TV in. I fully expected him to retreat into headphone-donning, i-pod listening, Beckham-copying total Chavism - but he just ranted and raved - even showing signs of foaming at the mouth (without a can of Guinness to create the foam!).

Suffering . . .

Ain't it strange that when a woman is ill she is expected to get on with life without complaining. After all "women were built for the pain of childbirth" etc, etc.
When us blokes get a heavy cold we're all close to death.
We demand to be nursed and waited-on hand, foot and finger.
Nobody has ever suffered as much as us blokes.
No-one has ever known pain quite as bad as this.
I have a cold.
Sympathise all you merely mortal girls and be grateful you're not a bloke.

Responsibility?

I've just heard a piece on the news about a man who was acquitted on a charge of rape because the "victim" admitted in evidence that she was "too drunk" to realise what was going on. I don't know what was in the judge's mind but thoughts of "binge drinking" may have come into his mind. Some young people do over-indulge in the alcohol and "recreational" drugs and it can lead to misjudgements in their actions. So if there was any doubt about consent for sex the verdict was probably correct. However, this is not an excuse for men to ply women with drink so that they can have sex with impunity. It all boils down to having a sense of responsibility towards each other but the words responsibility and enjoyment may not seem to go together, especially when you're young and out for a good time. This may reead like I'm preaching, but there it is . . .

Something's Bugging Me

I've just been watching the first in a new David Attenborough series "Life in the Undergrowth" and it looks fascinating. This week's episode looked at the likely origins of the invertebrate insect world in the ancient oceans and connected that to life forms like the centipedes and woodlice which still carry many of those characteristics today. It also had some really interesting photography - pictures of animals less than half a millimetre long called springtails. They are aptly named because they have a tail which acts like a spring to help them leap out of the way if trouble arises. They can jump 150mm! That's the equivalent of a man jumping over the Eifel Tower. I never thought I would be fascinated to watch slugs mating! See it now on http://www.bbc.co.uk/sn/tvradio/programmes/lifeintheundergrowth/video.shtml I don't normally advertise things - so it shows how impressed I was with the programme! Appreciate your comments - if anyone reads this crap!

Further up the Flu(e)

I didn't post yesterday. I was lazy and in a holiday mood. I woke up in the morning and realised that I'd forgotten I had the day off! How stupid can you get - forgetting something as important as that?

Today it's back to the grind. Pleasantly surprised at how well work went but, as most other people do, wishing for a way out. Roll on the lottery win - perhaps I ought to buy a ticket?

Changing the subject, the government has realised that we are running out of 'flu vaccine. What a surprise! It seems there is no centralised accounting for how much vaccine is ordered - it's left up to individual general practitioners to order what they think will be needed for their patients. What with increased awareness of the dangers of 'flu (due in part to the unconnected avian 'flu scare) and other factors there isn't enough to go round. But because of the individual ordering system the Department of Health was not aware of it. Generates confidence if we get a pandemic! Bye for now - I'm just off to shoot all the birds I can see 'cos I'm scared of them.

Winter Wonderland

Working in retail, I have already endured "Christmas" for the last month or so. Gaudy tinsel, flashing lights, electronic voices singing Christmas greetings - I have to live with them all day every day in work. Seeing grown-up people coming in and saying "We must have that one to go with our display of lights!" What a waste! Spending on trivialities when it could be used to really help people live and give people health, education and a better standard of living. It debases Christmas and all that it really means. Don't get me wrong - I am not a "born again" Christian. But you don't have to be a Christian (or a Muslim, Jew, Sikh, Buddhist or any other religion) to appreciate the real story of Christmas, whether you believe it or not. I like the idea of giving and recieving presents. It's a way of showing people you love them, care about them, want to make them happy. But over-the-top - mainly showing off - decorations (whose origins often emanate from "pagan" rituals) are not for me.
Winter has descended on us quite suddenly. From temperatures in the high teens a couple of weeks ago my little thermometer tells me now that it hasn't been above freezing point for a couple of days now - a rare thing in this part of the world. I hate the cold - my hands freeze, my feet freeze and I feel the need to hibernate. I think I must have been a snake in any previous existence I may have had (it's the forked tongue that gives it away, folks!). I ventured out into my garden this morning and found that Mother Nature is much better at decorations than anything we mere mortals can produce, so I took this picture. Spiders' webs and frost on my hedge make patterns more intricate and beautiful than the incongruous "reindeer" and "snowflakes" and other shapes we make. Perhaps winter ain't so bad after all!