Boxing Day 2025

With Sainsburys open on Boxing Day 9am-6pm, I decided it would be wise to buy for the weekend today, as tomorrow the crowds of desperate folk will pile in to refill once the leftovers have gone.  So I walked across the park, the dogs had all been and gone long before, just to get a whiff of greenery and tripped over the kerb heading to the shop.  I almost stumbled across the road, I could hear the sirens in my head as I kept upright and moved on embarrassedly.  

Many more in the shop than I expected, but better than tomorrow.  Those pushing trolleys wondering why they need so much today, men with baskets rushing past keen to avoid tomorrows crowd, and me, wondering why I am picking up almost everything with yellow 'reduced price' labels, just in case.  The four things I required are soon dwarfed by the many things I bought, on the cheap.  

Most people still had a Christmas spirit, one or two the effects thereof, the young lass at the checkout was friendly and efficient, and the male customers nearby also happy, to a point.   I mentioned the spirits had no security tags on them but the meat has.  She told me the Honey now has security tags, yet the booze no longer has them!  I suppose these things are easier to steal, and the usual suspects are easily identified re booze theft.  

Anyway, I hobbled home along a quiet street, the quietest this road has been on a Friday this year, reminding myself that this was FRIDAY, not Saturday, and I do not go to church tomorrow.  Having events such as these during the week can be confusing for us.

Christmas Day 2025

The image of a wooden barn containing a wee lassie and her man sitting beside a manger, donkeys and sheep all around, has been with us for many years.  However, those who have researched this now tell us more information.  The word translated as 'Inn,' was incorrect, not just because such places did not exist in the Middle East, it actually refers to a house.  This makes sense as the couple would go straight to the family headquarters in Bethlehem.

Once there, it is likely that a crowded house would mean 'making do,' and no doubt many a  child was born rough circumstances in days of yore.  Here we see an example of a Judean house of the time, the family living upstairs, the animals below.  The rock around there is quite often contains many caves, it is possible one could be used for the animals, or indeed as a place to live.  Whether their stable, and the use of a manger a receptacle for animal feed, indicates a stable, was below the house or next to it, or in a cave, we do not know, but we know he was born in a stable.

Mary would not be alone there, I suggest the women would offer help, especially those trained or experienced in childbirth, and the family would come together to help.  Nonetheless, a young couple, visited by shepherds and Magi, carrying a baby announced by an angel, would be keeping their knowledge to themselves and trusting their God for leading.

What a couple Mary and Joseph were!

The baby was born to offer himself to God for us.

He lived and died for you and me.  He calls us all to know him, not as a baby, but as a God. 

Choose him.  

Life may get harder, but it will be abundant.

Christmas Eve 2025

Christmas Eve, though to be honest I have never met this girl Eve.  Outside cars slowly pass by, the boot filled with foodstuffs, half of which will be thrown away uneaten by Saturday, or else made use of in leftover Sunday lunches.  That which is eaten or drunk will aid the NHS overcrowding by the end of the year, and the family squabbles will make some homes resemble 'EastEnders.' 

Ah the blessing of the time of goodwill.

I started this hours ago and the cars still trundle by, many playing loud music, or Christmas noise's, kids excitedly peering at boxes piled around them, and parents wondering where the cash will come from to pay for all this.  Occasionally  family group passes, Santa hats, Christmas jumpers, and that's just on the dogs, while the group heads into town for whatever reason possibly lunch at the one restaurant or a pub.  In many ways it is a good and exciting time of year for many, especially as the weather has been bright and sunny with a biting wind.  

     

I have not been surprised to read that Chelmsford cathedral, the home of the Bishop of Essex, has decided to progress with prayers within regular services for gay sex marriage and Civil Partnership couples.  This is acceptable they say because of a proposal from the Bishops in 2023.  One I thought had been dispensed with, however, apparently not.

Since the last Bishop of Essex, he is now Archbishop of York, Essex has been open to those with such tendencies, and opposed to biblical readers who disagree and offer biblical opposition.  Yet here we are, official announcement, from a female dead, it would be, for something contrary to scripture and human nature.  A quick reading of scripture reveals how God wants an abundant life for us, not a broken one, and while we accept such individuals we do not encourage them to live a lie.  We do not encourage ourselves to live a lie according to our own desire.   We must seek Jesus and his will only.

I will write of my opposition to this to the Bishop, and be ignored again. The suffragen Bishop will be well aware of my opinion as I have already written to him about 18 months ago re this.  A quick email to some leading members of our church received two answers so far, one thoughtful one opposed to this.  The rest are busy with Christmas.  This will go on.

It's the Greediest Time Of the Year

Early in the morning, before the sun was rising, and it still hasn't, I limped my way to Sainburys for my Christmas dinner.  It was quite busy for that time, cars were arriving, trolleys were being banged into one another, decisions re what to buy was occurring all around, and usually in my way, as I carried my basket from point 'A' to point 'B.'  By the time I approached the smiling lass at the checkout I realised I had bought too much, and on top of that had not obtained the Xmas foodstuffs I sought.  These had been advertised yet were not available.  Nothing daunted of course, I will survive I thought to myself.  The smiling lass charged me far too much once again and yet had the audacity to blame me for this.  I wished her merry Christmas just the same and limped home once again.

Sadly, once home my metal derangement kicked in once again. 

I decided to visit Tesco for my Christmas dinner, NOW!

I blame the bang on the head I received when playing football all those years ago.  The large brown 'filly' ball knocked me out and I found myself sitting with my head between my knees.  While in today's game a medical team would appear, spending many minutes ensuring I was alive, stable, awake, playing with the boys in the Meadows meant I just got up again and played on.  I think the shock is settling in now.

So, I washed my filthy face and dried it on the filthy towel and hobbled off once again towards Tesco's.

Again a mere 10,000 people were barging into one another in a friendly manner.  This time many items suggested for lunch were available, however, the pretty decorated boxes, the attractive contents, and the prices did not fit with one another.  Small items indeed, but the prices were far from small, Christmas increases I reckon.  So, after searching around I went back to the more normally overpriced goods which we all know are not worth the money, but they were worth it much more than the Christmas deals.  Christmas expense comes but once a year, and supermarkets are desperate to make the most of it.

Oh yes, I don't have enough bread....

Shopping

It was along day yesterday which resulted in a nothing doing day today.  This, as many will be quick to point out, is not a strange occurrence here.  I have however, planned the shopping for tomorrow, if I can get up early enough to beat the crowds.  The Xmas stock must be obtained, enough to last until Boxing Day when the store will reopen, closed Xmas day.  One day off for the staff!  And that grudgingly.      

Cars from the store have trundled past all day.  A sight seen all over the nation, indeed all over the western world at the moment.  Many remembering what Christmas is about, many looking forward/dreading a family get together, and several thousand hugging stones at Stonehenge for spiritual satisfaction.  Then getting drunk or stoned.  I am even more keen on remaining indoors.

Did you notice the picture...?

Christmas Sunday

Returning home in the heavy rain after a busy Sunday.

Morning service, the last before Christmas, quite busy with a lot attending.  All quite cheery as Christmas approaches, bubbly and ready for anything.

Except me.

I had forgotten to eat on the previous night and was almost asleep during the service.  My mind kept floating away, and concentration is hard enough these days.  Rejoice! Rejoice! Coffee was served, this kept me going till I got home.

There I ate, and watched the Heart of Midlothian walk all over the arrogant, orange dressed, Rangers.

2-1 was the final score, but it ought to have been 4-0 at least.  We missed an excellent opportunity to give them a hiding, sadly.

I then slept for 20 minutes.

Just as well as I was doing the first reading at the 6 o'clock Carol Service.  

This went well, all read acceptably, carols were sung, strangers, some annual strangers, came.  Then all the strangers ran for the door at the end in case someone spoke to them, and we had all the mulled wine to ourselves.

Still raining.  

See...

Saturday Saunter

It was clearly near Christmas as the angels appeared again on the fences.  All round town the women have been knitting these wee creatures, oblivious to the fact that angels in the Bible do not have wings, and leaving their work for individuals to take home.  This happens every year.  

I left them where they were, though most have since disappeared.

The town, by the time I got there, was beginning to close down.  Christmas stalls abounded, each and every one stuffed with overpriced, often home made, items that I do not wish to purchase.  Clearly there is some profit as it is always the same people selling their goods, one has even progressed to a small shop.  

Normal Christmas activity was to be seen, a wedding in the old town hall, loud aged rock music from one stall, but no actual Christmas music was to be heard, I am glad to say.  I took my puritan attitudes to the museum to obtain a jar of honey, and there I saw lots of small items that I missed before, I'm glad to say, that I may have been tempted to but for the family.  Money saved is a good thing.

We awoke to mist, deep mist, that hung around for a while and was soon replaced by constant sunshine.  The temperature did not rise mind, freezing it was all day.  Here I am glad the hearing comes on.  It has come on and off all day. keeping the heat reasonable, and me unreasonable, as always.  Naturally, tomorrow brings drizzle.  

Sainsburys and Kemi the Racist

I headed off bright and early this morning to Sainsburys for the weekend needful.  Being Friday it was a bit busy, even more so as it is the last Friday before Christmas, which is next Thursday you know.  I went through my list, I have long realised a list is always required in such shops, bumping to many men unused to shopping trolleys, and unused to following the wife around such shops.  Clever men carry a basket and skip by such as they.

Having decided the basket now weighted more than I can carry I headed for the checkout.  Much to my surprise three, new, girls were sitting silently awaiting customers while the self service place was overrun.  That has not happened before.  I chose the young Asian lass who I met last week.  That day she was having a disaster, nothing was going right, the supervisor was hiding, and we were all waiting.  I found myself becoming encouraging towards her rather than grieved.  Eventually we got through and I spoke kindly to the new girl and went on my way.  No point in complaining in such situations, we have all been there, and we have all been struggling at a new job.  Today, all was well and quickly I overfilled the bag, gasped at the price, and nothing, absolutely nothing was a luxury today, paid the money and stumbled home, stopping only to encourage a lost driver that the street he wanted was a mile back they way he had come.  Good luck to him amongst that heavy traffic.

Heavy traffic that was not eased when Zak parked his Royal Mail van at my door blocking the other lane.  While I raced down slowly to gather the parcel from my favourite niece it left the cars behind fuming.  However, I checked on his Christmas, his work pattern this week, and wished him well, ignoring the red faces turning blue in the traffic.  It's not often I stop the traffic, let alone twice in a  morning.  The traffic is still slowly trundling past now, late in the afternoon.

This was produced by Kemi Badenoch the leader of the Conservative Party.  Such blatant racism while commenting on the Labour Party's rather stupid idea, of teaching boys not to be misogynist, and offers blatant racism.  

Lets be clear, while around 200 asylum seekers have been involved with sex attacks of one sort or another, and some 2000 or so 'ethnics' also (meaning Pakistani's usually in the media) the majority of the 16,000 sex attacks in the last account were conducted by white Englishmen or Welshmen.  These numbers come from the Law covering England and Wales only.  

This is another example of the failure of the Conservative Party to find a policy that works, and a failure to admit to their corruption and incompetence over the past 14 years.  For them a change is required, and this woman, herself a daughter of immigrants, is not the answer.

Christmas Date and Stable Question

I was reading an interesting item re the reason Christmas was held at, er Christmas.  This was written by the excellent Psephizo, or Ian Paul if you prefer.   This was a page discussing the date of Christmas as found by researching a variety of records, mostly Jewish, and attempting to discover if December is the real date or ought it to be another.  This is well worth a read.  

Some claim that the date was chosen to cover over the debauchery of the annual sol invictus however, Andrew McGowan, of Yale, has proved this was an anti-Christmas forgery.

Psephizo discusses the various claims, and works through the ideas that indicate the actual time Jesus came to earth.  This of course could be wrong!  We have no actual date, it was not the done thing in those days, and we have to make educated guesses.  Here we have some good guesses.  Well worth a read.

Psephizo also has his own ideas about whether Jesus was actually born in a stable.   This is another good read, again we cannot be sure as we must guess all too often, however, this is worth a read.

The unfortunate western image of a brown hut does not fit in with near eastern practice, so must be rejected.  We tend to see things from our own perspective, but must remember Jesus was born in Judea.

Tuesday Blether

My sister, who, as you know, is considerably older than me, were discussing where there were aged relatives who might pass on and leave us a small fortune.  We were somewhat irked by the fact that WE were the aged relatives now.  There are no 'old ones' left but us.  The distant Fife relatives are all our age or younger, and we have lost contact with them, since contact came through the elderly members, now all gone.  Locally there are none to be found, searching the genealogy has failed to produce an aged millionaire anywhere in the family.  And now we confront our nephews, nieces and the rest with the sad reality that when we go there is nothing but debts to pay off. 

I cannot on here describe their saddened reaction.

It's a laff, innit?

The Gaza War Cemetery lies dishevelled after Israel bombed it, 'Because it was being used by Hamas.'

Aye, OK.

The various governments, the UK, New Zealand, Australia and India, have as yet not condemned the destruction of their fallen's cemetery.  I wonder why?  Some individuals are making a noise, Israeli money has silenced this.

Many protest re the destruction in Gaza, and rightly so.  Barbaric treatment from Netanyahu and his boys is not what people wish to see.  Major support in stopping the war is ongoing and very popular.

However, I wonder why such a response is not found re Sudan, Darfur, Ukraine, Syria, or any of the sub-Saharan wars that we can find, if we look, at the news.  Why are the dead elsewhere less important than Gaza's dead?  Why is there no protests?  Indeed, why do people not know about other wars?

It is not that they are not reported somewhere, we can read about them if we wish, it is that this area of land is the centre of the world these days, and indeed for ever.  There is much more to the Gaza fighting than we reckon, but I would like to see the nation ask re all these other wars, even if they are not popular.

Another Day of Joy and Happiness...

Christmas makes people mental.

Elbowing, tripping, gnashing of teeth and the occasional fist fight occur when people shop for the last remaining 'special toy.'  I of course avoided this by shopping online, I still await the latest to be delivered, and enter shops early in the day before the lower orders are up.

I was thinking of a woman who was whining to her husband re what he does in the house.  She was complaining he did nothing, never took the kid too and from the nursery, and she done it all.

The husband mildly explained that he was working 7 days a week, doing 12 hour shifts, and all to pay for the Christmas she wished to have.  Meanwhile, he stated quietly, she worked only four days a week from 10-2.  He mentioned that she was being unreasonable.  It was at this point he discovered that he had married a woman.

A woman who, I suspect, had been reading those articles in women's magazines telling women how hard a life they had, and that they ought to stand up for themselves and avoid being 'used.'

Of course the women who write this drivel don't actually work themselves.  They live in comfortable surroundings, paid for by temporary man or daddy, and do not have to work at all.  Some write books along this line and enjoy the cash while ruining other women's lives.

Sadly, we all do this.  We read of others happy and easy life and wish to indulge this ourselves.  It does not exist.  Real life is hard work, male or female, rich or poor, well poor anyway.  Those tempted to believe the slavering of those living behind a laptop ought to stop and think a wee bit deeper.

er, blog writers do not count...

Firefox, like all other Browsers, websites, mail accounts, keeps updating the browser.  This is nice, but really, I never use what is already on the thing why do I require more suggestions not to use?  They are all at it, and things to help keep appearing and getting in the way.  I need to work AI just to stop them giving me helps.  None do help of course.

YODEL!

Yes it's them again.  No there has been no delivery, of course not, it's just that I found someone else who suffers from YODEL despair.   

Yesterday, when the cold wind blew and the sun shone, I ventured all the way out to Tesco.  Stumbling around the shelves trying to remember what was written on the list I left on the bunker, I grabbed a few items and headed out (after paying).  

Wandering up the steep slope that I neve knew before, I noticed the Barber was empty!  I entered, was warmly greeted with fixed smiles, by the woman who wished I had continued past, and smiled also as she offered me the seat.

As she expertly clipped and buzzed away I mentioned Christmas online shopping, ensuring delivery and she went into a rant.  Her son is selling old football boots etc, through Vinted, the place that sent my little order by YODEL, and she was NOT happy!  One item, a computer that had been returned as not working, had led to much stress on the YODEL website.  Fumes were offered to the website until she managed to speak to someone, well done her I say!   

Unfortunately it was AI and useless. 

After demanding a human voice she was landed with a foreign sounding chap who was indistinct, yet promised to re-order the delivery and sent for the goods to be delivered.

Nothing happened.

This is YODEL in normal mode.

They do not care.

However, one bright light is they have discovered that when sending goods out you do not have to use YODEL.  There is a choice of another van, I know not which, and they will make use of this as it cannot be worse than YODEL.

The hair now looking great, I went to pay, and she questioned my age, implying I was young.  Lovely woman.  However, I mentioned the number 74, keep this to yourself, and received a reduced price.  So glad was I about this and her excellent service, I left behind a packet of chocolates as a tip, Toblerone bits I think it was, and that I felt was fair response.

Christmas Shopping

 I finished cleaning this morning, the house, not myself, and after a spot of lunch I started to once  again Christmas shop online.  The idea behind this is great, you fond a shop, you select a suitable gift, and it arrives by post or van very soon afterwards.  Payment is simple, and all is well. 

NO IT IS NOT!

For a start, for every child you look for, the gift not the child, there are pages and pages online in a wide and varied selection of shopping centres all designed to take as much cash as possible from you for the least they can offer.  All expect their customers to be middle class, preferably a merchant banker, and willing to pay much for very little, as long as it is trendy.

This is not me.

In the end, having pondered on many things I changed over to Black Bun.

Black Bun is a Scottish delicacy.   This very rich fruit cake is a delight and a New Year special.

Such a shame it now costs between £8 or 11s.  It may not happen in this house. 

Only four shops sell the same make, no alternatives on show, and each has a rusty website inviting you to spend more for thing you do not require at Christmas, but they say you do.

An afternoon wasted cogitating on toys and buns.

Nothing was bought.

Nothing was spent.

I may repeat this tomorrow.

A History of Histories

I've finished a book!

This has taken me ages as all the books on the pile are slow reads.  This one began quite well but slowed down as we passed through time heading towards today.

John Burrow was an intellectual historian, and in this book eh seeks to discover why historians wrote, what past they were writing about, and what motivated them.

John reviews history from Herodotus, who gave us the term historia, that is inquiry, as we inquire into the past.  Beginning with Herodotus and Thucydides he reviews historians in their periods, though not always chronologically correct, from Greece and Rome and moving into the 'Christian' period.  

Then comes secular history, and more recent attempts at studying the past, England, France and the USA.  Then comes his treatment of the 20th century, in which he developed his ideas and fame.  

I found the book fascinating, especially in the earlier studies, as I at least knew something about them, but his later subjects I sometimes found myself lost, these are no use if you have not read French or other unknown authors.  Interesting it was, but confusing to an intellectual misfit like myself.  

All who study history will find something in this book, published in 2007, but as it progressed my reading slowed.  This speaks more for my lack of knowledge than the authors writing.

Well worth a read, if you have time.

Amtrak 52

Metro Jacksonville

 

Once the morning repast had been dealt with I floundered around trying to decide my next move.  

This took a while.

I could have gone out into the sunshine and cold wind to spend cash at the supermarket, but just could not be bothered.  Instead I sat around cogitating slowly, reading the grubby newspapers and once again checking Twitter to see if any intelligent life had landed.  There was nothing to report.

Then 52 came through.

Amtrak 52 is an unusual train.  It runs up from Orlando, Florida, to just outside Washington DC.  This train comprises one or two engines, around 16 coaches, and these days around 25- 30 Auto Cars.  These are trucks that contain cars, or automobiles if you are a US citizen.  The people travel down from the north, especially at this time of year with snow falling, to the Florida sunshine, and Donald Trump.  To do this they let the train take the strain as a very famous deviant once took money for saying, and put their cars in the auto trucks so they can drive them around Florida chasing or being chased by the 'Sunshine Girls.'  

Being 'Thanksgiving' Weekend there has been lots of to and froing from the masses, each either seeking time with, or avoiding time with their families.  So all the trains have been busy, and Mr Amtrak must be coining it in this weekend.  

There is a well worked routine for loading and unloading the cars.  Looking via Google Maps it is possible to see the cars in 6 sidings awaiting loading, then they are joined together following the coaches and off they go, usually on time.  

The coaches appear to be off two types, some have seats, other have single or double 'rooms.'  Shower facilities are on each coach, and of course there is a dining car for Breakfast, lunch and tea.  Therefore, you can either join others stuffing your face, or sitting in the viewing car, or lay about in your small room watching the East coast of the USA drift past.  The individual room is a good idea as passenger trains are not priorities in the US, the lines are owned by the freight companies, and they come first.  Any break down and you could wait for hours before continuing on.  

In such circumstances I may not mind to tell the truth.

The rail watchers on Virtual Railways play a wee game as the 52 passes north, and indeed the 53, as the train returns south.  The trick is to guess the number of engines, coaches and auto cars.  Simple games satisfy simple lives, and wee intellectuals are a not drawn into such things, well actually...

So this morning as 52 passed in the poring rain, and it was Aberdeen rain this morning, I suggested to myself it would be 2/16/28, of course it was 2/16/25, wrong again.  A silly game but those regulars who participate find it fun.  It amazes me how as we grow out of childhood we return to finding fun in silly games, the type adolescents despise, but folks above 25 often enjoy.  We are strange creatures.  

The overnight train, taking two days and sometimes three, is the 'Southwest Chief,' or 4 as it is known, the trains carrying names and numbers, even numbers one way, odd numbers the reverse.  4 Runs from Los Angeles Station to Chicago.  Now, I do not wish to be in either Los Angeles or Chicago but I reckon travel by rail would be a good way to actually 'see' the USA.  You could travel by road, but all highways look the same, the advantage there being the ability to stop and ponder, but rail is more comfortable, food is on hand, sleep nearby, and an attendant at all times available.  I could do with one of those!

However, the thought of spending $1500 to do the trip when I reject the idea of spending £5 to travel by bus here puts me off.  One day when fit and healthy, rich and spoilt, I may do this.  Chances are I will not.

 

Disgraceful Racists!

When I drew back the filthy curtains early this morning, I was greeted by this!  And with today being St Andrew's Day I was shocked, appalled and felt racially abused.  All at once.  It could be worse, the 'Butchers Apron' is hanging badly on several other lampposts nearby.  Disgrace I say!

Incidentally, I was reading this morning of one man responsible for this flag racism, he and his mate went to France to confront asylum seekers and tell them what they thought.  Being thugs, thinking was not their strongest point, and the only video seen so far, features the two of them running away to their car and speeding off.  One is wanted in Spain for a scam, the other is noted for his thuggery.  Keep the women and children safe I say, lock them up.  The man behind this scam is of course a friend of 'Tommy Robinson,' the well known liar and rabble rouser, once again on holiday in a 5 star resort.  Who pays for this I ask?  Certainly the man who started the scam is the one providing the flags, so he will surely have the cash to aid tommy. 

These anti immigrant flags are all the way down the street now, costing thousands to remove, and inciting violence towards those who oppose them, a normal Nazi tactic.  If we had a ladder we could get up there and dump these rags, but my 3 step ladder will not reach.

There is of course no patriotism, no jingoism behind these flags, just racism, began by Farage, and continued by those on the make, politicians included.

This, you are mistakenly believing, is a black space with a wee dot of light upon it.  You would be wrong.  This is another exciting photo of an object in space, a planet I think, possibly Saturn, but I could not make head nor tail of the info on several night sky sites.  Why do they make it so hard.  Two or three other dim lights can be seen, but my camera cannot make them more distinct.  One day I will understand those star maps and know what I am looking at.

Just a wee reminder that today is St Andrews Day, the greatest man ever to come out of St Andrew's...

Now that is filled with US students who only go there to play golf.

Rejoice, Thatcher has Gone!

November 28th 1990, a date to equal the 3rd September 1939, or 23rd June 1314, or even my birthday.  For on this day in 1990 Margaret Thatcher left office for the last time, never to return.

3 million unemployed, known to the Conservative Party as 'scroungers,' rejoiced!  Miners in the remaining Miners Welfare clubs also rejoiced, decent people everywhere rejoiced that as woman who cared nothing for the individual had gone for good.

From 1979to 1990 this woman had encouraged greed and avarice at the expense of the individual.  "Society," she said, "Does not exist."  This was a catch phrase used to avoid saying "Let the peasants starve." Greed was good, money was more important than people, the NHS was transformed to save money in a ham fisted manner that led to the NHS costing much more than it did at the beginning, I know, I was in it.  

Miners under Scargill, a man I did not like, were put in their place and the working class treated to an attack on all of them because of his misplaced socialism.  This was not the socialism my uncles down Fife mines wanted.  Industry was replaced by a service mentality, except that the service, such as buses, trains and the Royal Mail were soon to lose the 'service' element as she worked to make them pay.  The whole point that the 'service' was subsidised to ensure society both industrial, commercial and  personal could continue, was lost on the money driven vixen.

Today we live in a divided society that is run by billionaires and corporates behind the scenes.  Israel and Russia, plus the dementia man in the White House have more influence on the UK today than any individual in the street.  All that we see today comes from her.  The rich get richer, the poor are treated with contempt, the middle classes are beginning to realise they too are considered worthless, and division and hate replace educated discussion in parliament.  No 'Big Beasts' dominate parliament today, just sleekit wee men and women with a chance for 15 minutes worth of fame, and a few million pounds.    

The UK is a mess, and Thatcher is the beginning of it.   "Rejoice, Rejoice, she has gone."

Another Market, Another Budget

Once again, as I stumbled my way through the Christmas cards, I discovered I was two short for certain individual family members.  As always it appears that no matter how many cards are lying here in the drawer, none fit!  So, it was off out into the sunshine, before realising the sun did not actually bring any warmth with it.  I then noticed the field was still possessing a smear of white on the grass, which I had ignored, and this would have told me that while the weather man said it was getting warmer he was in fact lying.  

The market was filling the shops with people, almost all wishing to be in my way.  However, I obtained two disgusting cards that will do the girls perfectly.  'The Card Factory' is becoming my favourite card shop, and the prices are cheap, at least half other shops prices.  

I tramped along the main drag, watching the usual stalls with the usual stuff.  With a Saturday Christmas market approaching I expect the sleigh shining in the sun will have one fat man sat there on that day.  However, only one man with small cars on his very mixed stall interested me, I may be back on Saturday for one or two for the 4 year old.  Or even for myself.

A quick look in the museum did not bring forth suitable gifts, I actually avoided spending cash there for the first time in years.  I hobbled up the road avoiding the many dogs returning from their walk in the park, well wrapped up people and happy smiling dogs filled the street.

I came home to the budget.

I ignored the delivery of the budget, it takes too long and soon is discredited afterwards anyway, and searching the web find that the only good thing is the removal of the disgusting 'Two Child Cap.'  Only the Tories could come up with a policy that attacks children.  At last it will end, but slowly it seems.  I n Scotland measures have been taken to dim the effects of this cap and now the money used can go elsewhere.  Of course the SNP will probably spend it defending trans folks rather than benefitting the nation.   Scotland did get some of her own money given back, for which we are supposed to be grateful...

Cat calls from the cat leading the Tories, dull promises and speculation from Keir, rambling emptiness from the press, and little else.  Certainly no tax on wealth, though houses worth £2-5 million will be taxed, just about the cost of the chancellors big house.  

In short, nothing special here.

Shopping Trolley

Having carried a heavy bag home from the supermarket last week, I pondered on what to do to ease the suffering.  Ideas such as, buy a wife, have a maid in, or have the supermarket's deliver to my door, all went through my mind.  These were rapidly turned down on grounds of cost.

The Good Lord brought to mind an alternative so obvious that it had never crossed my mind in all the times I have been making use of these shops, use a trolley!

Yes, make use of a trolley, fill it with all the heavy things, push it down to your door, and return it to get back the £1 coin required to obtain the trolley in the first place.  Simple innit?

So today, after much thought, I inserted my coin, a real one, took the trolley and had a very different experience of supermarket shopping.  Like most men I usually take a basket, speed round gathering as I go, and avoid all these old women with trolleys barging into people and getting in the way.

Today, I barged into people, mostly men carrying baskets, and got in people's way.

Unused to the ability of such trolleys to have a mind of their own, I made my way round, chatting to men who also were disgruntled at the new managers ability to shift goods from one place to another so we cannot find them, and gathered all the heavy and awkward stuff I could find.  This done, and another man with basket sent into the ice cream fridges, I made my way to the checkout where one of the best young women was in control. 

Swiftly the masses were packed badly into the several overweight bags, swiftly, though no one was actually waiting at the time, it was remarkably quiet, we finished the job while chatting about nothing, well the weather, as we all do in this country.  I paid the bill while the lass informed me, with a gasp, what the total was.  I inserted the card, pressed the right buttons, and she gave me a long receipt.  Too long in my view.

The new grasping manager has once again raised the prices, almost daily from him as he seeks a bigger shop, and this enables me to gasp also as I look again at the total paid.  Just as well I forgot the whisky.

The journey home was short, tricky and on uneven pavements.

The parking lot was bad enough, sloping this way and that, once it held donkeys in a meadow, now it holds expensive chariots with grumbling unsmiling people.  Many wish the donkeys would return.

The trolley was quite easy to manage except on a slope.  The weight took it this way and that, while I struggled on occasion to keep it on the pavements, the camber, the remains of many water, gas and electric works not helping.  However, I only lost it once and entered the roadway, that motorcyclist was quite safe, even though he took an unexpected trip through the park.

Outside my door I had to keep watch as the brute kept wanting to slide away.  As I lifted each bag the weight shifted and the trolley moved accordingly.  I got the door opened, took the bags inside carefully, watch the movement of the trolley all the time.  This done, I left the bags indoors and took the return journey back to the store.  Much easier when empty, and the motorcyclist was busy brushing grass from his machine, I don't know how he got hold of that.  I pressed the chain in, took hold of my precious £1 coin, and returned home.  

The simple job then was to hoist five, now much heavier bags, up the stairs, and into the commodious apartment.  That's six times I have been up and down those stairs today!  Once inside it was easy to distribute the many beer bottles tins of veg to their places.  When finished I considered I had in one fell sweep filled at least enough for the run up to Christmas, and in some cases beyond that.  I suspect that with the fast rising prices I will have saved money with this trip also.  Now all I have to collect is light things like bread and milk, and occasional other fresh foods.  Much easier all round.

Of course I have not moved since, eating and drinking and seizing up is all that is left for today.

Yodel

When you wish for incompetence, then cometh YODEL.  Yodel, a white van man organisation, has the worst delivery record in the world.  A small item I ordered for Xmas is coming this way, after at least one week it has still not arrived. 

Last Monday an email claimed, 'We will deliver your parcel between 19:00 and 21:00 pm.'

They lied.

Tuesday night, when Scotland were playing, 'We will deliver your parcel between 19:00 and 21:00 pm.'

They lied.

Nothing since.

So, I tried their website.

I looked and I searched, I clicked here and there, I shouted and yelled, but there was no way to communicate with them, not even by AI.

I then chose to go through the needlessly long log on page.  

Eventually I had logged on, eventually I thought I would get somewhere.

I didn't.

In bold it said, click on our webpage to talk.

Nothing clicked.

They offer at the bottom, call us between these times.

However, they do not offer a phone number to call.

Could it be the laptop responds differently to the phone?

I logged, eventually, on the phone,  

It made no difference.

So, I await response but there appears to be no lies about deliveries tonight.

In the morning, I will contact the lass that is sending the 2nd hand toy over.  

She is not at fault, but maybe she can contact them?

With Yodel, you never know.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr