Miscellaneous 03/02/2010
I suppose it's a comfort to know that at least two people visit my blog from time to time and, in response to their question, "Yes. I have deleted the thread called Rant." At this stage, other than to explain that it was removed as a consequence of a valid complaint that I had revealed someone's details, I don't intend to elaborate. I might, however, return to the subject in due course. Memory Lane 02/27/2010
For some time lately, I've been toying with the idea of covering this subject and writing the previous blog made my mind up for me. So, for the time being, I'll start it off as a blog and, perhaps, create a new page if/when it warrants it. There used to be a time when I thought that my father's generation must have been the most privileged since time began because they had witnessed such diversity in their own lifetime. He was born just before WW1 - at a time when a horse and cart was the normal mode of transport. Few of his contemporaries could have imagined that, by the time they passed away, almost every family in the United Kingdom would own a car, air travel would be commonplace, and man would have stood on the moon. Recently, however, I have begun to form the opinion that my own generation has been even more fortunate - because, impressive though the changes were during my father's lifetime, perhaps the most significant of them occurred after I was born (just before WW2). Furthermore, many of the conditions which were in evidence when he was young, still existed when I was a child. For instance, the horse and cart was still an everyday form of transport. Even in towns and cities, a fair proportion of goods and services were still being delivered by this means and, in some areas (large ports, for example) commercial vehicles powered by steam were still more common than those with diesel or internal combustion engines which operate nowadays. Since those times, almost all forms of transport have developed beyond anything which might have been imagined when my dad was a lad. The improvements have been so profound that singling one example out wouldn't serve any purpose from the point of view of the argument I'm putting forward. That is to say, the advances made during the second half of the last century were far more significant than the first. So, perhaps, after all, it may be reasonable to assume that my generation have experienced more changes than any other - up to now. Turning, now, to other examples (apart from transport) - and speaking on a purely personal level - as I was evacuated to a comparatively remote region during the war, my own experiences of change have been rather more extreme than for many. For instance, my grandparents' smallholding in north Wales didn't have access to mains water until the late forties - which was about the same time as they were connected to The National Grid electricy system. As a consequence, night-time illumination for my cousin and I was provided by paraffin lamps or candles and we were required to collect water from a well several times a day. So far as I can recall, this water was used, primarily, for cooking - whereas rainwater (collected in large barrels underneath almost every available drainpipe) was used for washing purposes. I have vivid memories of the kitchen being stripped bare each Monday morning and the women in the family doing the weekly wash at one end of the room and my grandfather churning milk to make butter at the other end (to this day, although not to everyone's taste, llaeth enwyn remains a particular favourite drink of mine) and my cousin and I, with a bucket in each hand, were constantly (or so it seemed) running down to the well before trudging back up again. Finally, I realise it's asking the bleeding obvious - but, why on earth are wells always located at the bottom of hills? It would be far easier to carry an empty bucket up a hill than a full one. More to follow.... Memory Lane 02/27/2010
A recent series of posts on Twitter developed into a conversation and I'm not sure if that is what it (Twitter) is intended to provide. A Blog, however, is more flexible; so, I'll continue..... I had been discussing matters relating to Liverpool Football Club with a chap who, since he is a season ticker holder, I had concluded was obviously a man of good taste. Although somewhat younger than me, he was clearly familiar with the history of the club and mentioned two or three players from the past - in particular, a centre-forward called Albert Stubbins - and this reminded me of an incident during my childhood in the city soon after the end of WW2 - and which I've concealed for over sixty years. Although, my parents arranged for me to join the choir in a local C of E church in Liverpool after the war, I was raised in my mother's chapel-going, Welsh-speaking, community in north Wales and it would be hard to deny the fact that I wasn't the most consciencious Anglican chorister in the world. In fact, I had worked out that Evensong usually took just about the same length of time as it would take to catch a bus into the town centre, stroll down to The Pier Head, catch a ferry across The Mersey and back home again. Furthermore, it cost exactly the same amount of money that I had been given to place in the collection tray (which was sixpence - in old money, by the way). What has prompted me to make this confession (religious pun unintentional) was the fact that, on one of these occasions, I happened to catch sight of Mr. Stubbins - who, like me, was watching an escape artist - one of many street entertainers who could be seen in those days. When he (the footballer, not the escape artist) left the bomb-site where the 'show' had been taking place, like the star-struck child I must have been, I followed him for several minutes until he 'disappeared' into what I suspect may have been a pub. It would be difficult to imagine a modern footballer being so accessible to the public. Miscellaneous 02/25/2010
Miscellaneous 02/24/2010
Following the interest shown from the Antipodes to an earlier Blog, this might be appreciated - http://tinyurl.com/yf6qo67 Miscellaneous 02/10/2010
I'm glad I was persuaded to cancel a trip to Wales tomorrow. I took this photo five minutes ago.....  Walkies 02/10/2010
In my previous Blog, I remarked about how the severe winter conditions had caused some deterioration to the surface of the bridleway adjacent to our house - in particular how old house bricks used for the original foundations had become exposed. At the time, I hadn't thought to take a photo; so, before today's walk, I wandered down to the spot and took this photo....  During the walk, I saw further evidence of the aforementioned weather conditions and, in particular, something which - at first sight - seemed quite scary.......  At the angle from which I was approaching, I could be excused for imagining that a body was hanging from a tree. However, it turned out to be a branch which, because of the weight of snow on it, had fallen away from a tree. The fact that there was a slight mist in the air added to the 'spooky' sensation and it didn't take too much imagination to envisage conditions when it might have been even more frightening - dusk, for example. Later, on my way home, I noticed that it wasn't only bridleways and trees which had been affected by the snow and ice. Here is evidence of some serious erosion of tarmacadam on the lane which leads up to where we live......  Walkies 02/02/2010
The weather and the conditions which prevailed as a result of it have meant that the few walks I have taken since Christmas have been mainly confined to tarmacadam surfaces. Today, however, I risked venturing down the bridleway which runs alongside our house and the first thing which caught my eye was the extent to which the path had eroded since my last visit. There were places (and I can't imagine why I didn't think to take a photo) where old house bricks - which had been used as foundations when the path was renovated recently - were completely exposed because a significant amount of the top-surface had been washed away. Another thing which hadn't been evident before winter set in was how many rabbit burrows were situated quite close to the path but hidden by foliage during the summer and autumn. Here's one of them........  Miscellaneous 01/26/2010
We have always put out 'left-overs' for the local bird population and, occasionally, we leave something a little more substantial for the neighbouring foxes. It isn't just birds and foxes, however, who are attracted to the 'feeding-grounds'. This is a view from the kitchen window......  .........and a close-up view.  Miscellaneous 01/10/2010
Until 'inheriting' one, I would never have considered owning a bird. The concept of confining a creature which should really be able to enjoy the freedom normally enjoyed by birds didn't appeal to me. However, recognising the fact that one born into 'captivity' would almost certainly meet a rather unpleasant fate if 'set free', I contrived to allow it as much freedom as was possible. So, whilst I'm indoors, our parrot is allowed out of the cage. Those who are familiar with these circumstances will appreciate that there are times when furniture, fixtures and fittings are liable to suffer. That said, so long as you're aware of the danger and are able to keep an eye on what the bird is doing, damage may be limited. There are times, however, when a temporary lapse in concentration can lead to frayed tempers as well as frayed curtains or cushions. Our umbrella cockatoo is called Ellie and here is an example of one of her less destructive episodes. I had left the room for a few moments and she had noticed a tin of 'Quality Street.....  By the time I returned, she had opened the tin and, having unwrapped, it was sampling a sweet.  | Welcome:Originally a record of a bus and coach delivery driver's experiences, this blog will now attempt to explain the effects of retirement. For example, cataloguing a collection of model vehicles. CategoriesAll |
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