What Shall I Do Tomorrow?
Today is not really the problem, as there is plenty of good sport on television, with the Grand Prix and some football. But it is tomorrow!
I thought that I might like to go to the cinema in Haverhill, as it would be possible with a taxi both ways.
But having seen the list of awful American films they are showing, that is a complete no-no. Most seem to be in 3-D, which is totally appropriate for someone with bad eyesight. I should also say that this relives some really bad Bank Holidays in the past, where C and I would vargue because there was nothing to do. Often we’d go shopping in London or Bluewater, or perhaps go and have a meal. But I can”t do that as I’ve got no transport and must stay here in my beautiful and lonely prison.
I could go to the Imperial War Museum at Duxford, as I haven’t been for many years.
I can’t even do some of my new found love and time filler; cooking. I’m miles from the nearest shop and that would again mean a taxi both ways, just to get the things I need.
So I’ll just stay here and rant at all the people , who’ve said they’ll visit me and never have!
But at least there’s Tuesday to look forward to!
Don’t They Ever Learn?
Pakistani cricketers are once again in the brown stuff. This time, it’s about spot betting on whether a delivery is a no-ball or not. But the Pakistani cricket team has been involved in all sorts of scandals over the past few years. So you’d think that with all the problems in the country, that the cricketers would be playing to try to give some sort of lift to their unfortunate compatriots.
If the allegations are proven to be true, then those involved should be banned for life from ever playing cricket again!
The real curse is this spot betting. Imagine yesterday at Portman Road and you could bet on Grant Leadbitter hitting the bar from a free kick. (Actually, what he did deserved a goal!) But bookmakers in some places will take such a bet. Certainly no reputable or licensed one would.
As an aside to this Oxfam have just said that billions of pounds will have to be spent to reconstruct Pakistan and it must start now! Can we trust the country to spend the money wisely and not let it end up in the hands of crooks?
Even if we can, these cricketers have sowed the seeds of doubt in many peoples’ minds.
Is Something or Someone Getting At Me?
I’m certain, I’ve read it somewhere, but when you have a stroke you do get a slightly bit paranoid.
I have had a couple of good days, but things seem to keep going wrong despite the most thorough planning beforehand.
It started on Monday, where the house I was wanting to buy in London failed its survey. Let’s face it, I’m crocked enough without having to worry about a house that’s about to fall down on top of me as well.
Yesterday, the plan was simple. I would take the train into Cambridge, play an hour of real tennis and then take a bus back to Newmarket, so that my secretary could pick me up, when she went into town to do the banking. The tennis was great and really does help my movement and left arm, but then Stagecoach intervened. I got to the Drummer Street Bus Station at about 13:45 and that should have given me plenty of time to catch the bus a few minutes after two. When you can’t drive, you get used to the waiting. At 14:40 or so I gave up, as despite the text system telling me three times buses were due, nothing arrived. Obviously Stagecoach have it in for me.
I walked to the train station to catch the next train to Dullingham, which meant a wait at the station until 15:43. But at least the train was on time, even if the single coach was very crowded.
Friday improved after that, as I watched the cricket, where Trott and Broad entertained everybody with some purposeful batting. Also, a friend came round with a goodbottle of wine for pasta in the evening and we put the horse racing industry to rights. He even brought my basset hound a friend to play with!
Today was very much a curate’s egg. It started well, as a friend took me to the station to get the train to London and the train was on-time all the way. I had been intending to see several houses in London with my son, but five viewings had been reduced to two overnight and both had problems. I just feel that something is telling me that I have to stay here for the winter as a punishment. Where I live may be beautiful and in the middle of the country, but when on some days, you see no-one except the postman and the paper lady it is not good. At least my basset hound hasn’t decided to go and live elsewhere!
At least, I was able to get to Ipswich to see Town beat Bristol City, with the help of Calamity James. Sorry David, but you were at fault for both goals. This blog was also publicised in the program.
My problems today started, when I tried to get home. The train to Bury St. Edmunds was on time, but I couldn’t find a taxi in the town. One number said that I could have a taxi at 21:30.
Eventually, I walked to the town centre and found one, that drove me home. But because he was on the rank, he was fifty percent more expensive.
So am I right to feel paranoid? If I’m honest, I suppose I should forgo the simple pleasures in life, like watching Ipswich Town and just watch what Sky deigns to make available.
But that would mean giving into those dark forces that are trying to make me miserable!
I am however made of sterner stuff and won’t let the bastard or bastards get me down!
The other problem is that the bastard getting at me, has made Monday a Bank Holiday. So that means family viewing on the box and no decent sport either.
August Birthdays
With Samantha Cameron having given birth in August, there has been a lot of talk recently about the disadvantage of August birthdays.
But it wasn’t always so!
Both my late wife and myself would have considered ourselves successful; she as a barrister and racehorse breeder and myself as a computer programmer, who helped create a multi-million pound company. We were both born in August many years ago.
Our most successful son of three is at the peak of his profession in London, despite leaving school with no qualifications at all. And he too was born in August.
So why this stigma against August births? Perhaps Leos and early-Virgos have a drive lacked by others, born in colder months.
I should say that some years ago I analysed all the birth weights for a year in an English county to see if we could find any patterns that might point to why some children were born with a low weight. One of the findings was that twins were more numerous eight or nine months after Christmas. Unfortunately, the data wasn’t good enough to know if the twins were identical or fraternal.
So I do wonder if some August children, having been conceived perhaps after a party, just want to get on with life and don’t succeed.
Iranian Football Rules
Ali Karimi has been called the Maradona of Asian football. However, he has now upset the regime for various reasons according to this article.
It would appear that he broke the rules on fasting during Ramadan by drinking in a training session, but the BBC reckons the real reason is politics not religion as he showed open support for those that felt they had been cheated of victory in the elections.
Is Iran on the Point of Melt Down?
History shows that as regimes get close to their end they get paranoid and do strange things. Just look at what happened in the last days of the Toman Empire or Nazi Germany at the end of the Second World War.
The news coming out of Iran seems to get worse and more vindictive and bonkers every day. We have the stories of whether women, such as Sakineh Mohammadani Ashtiani will or should be stoned, Ahmadinejad’s bomber drone and now we now have a fatwa on cats and dogs. I know that pets aren’t that important in the scheme of things, but The Times carries an article today by an Iranian expert, that says that Iran is on the point of melt down!
I just hope that what replaces the current odious regime isn’t more so. But I’m afraid though that dictators be they military, religious or racist do seem to have immense skills on hanging on to power.
The Largest Tea Urn in the World
The One Show on BBC this evening told the sort of tale that I like. It was of a man Ted Simmons, who after Coventry had been blitzed in the Second World War created an enormous kettle, so that people could have a hot drink. The story of the recreation of the kettle is told here.
I sometimes wonder whether we could do such things today, as we often have this negative give-up attitudes to stiff challenges. But as the Coventry Urn tale says, that if you have strong and good leadership, this will inspire others to get the job done in the best and quickest way possible.
The Albion, Chester
I was walking the Chester city walls with the intention of going back to a nice restaurant in Bridge Street, when I saw this pub called the Albion.
The Albion, Chester
What had caught my eye was the various chalked boards on the outside of the building. This one which was readable from the walls, said that this could be pub that was to my taste.
Perfect Advertising for a Pub
So did the Albion live up to what it said on the outside. I just had a half of cider to drink. This could have been better, but then I come from Suffolk, where they make the best;Aspalls. As they do sometimes have Adnams on draught, it shows how much the county of my conception is influencing the taste of discerning drinkers, all over these Isles.
As I said, I was ready for lunch, so I chose a cottage pie from the menu.
Cottage Pie at the Albion
I suspect it was wrongly named as it is more of an individual house pie. It was of course gluten-free. It was certified by the pleasant barmaid, who said that her mother was a coeliac like me!
I should say that the Albion also does bed and breakfast, which if their beds are as well-proprtioned as the pies, might well be something.
Rhino Mania in Chester
We’ve had cows everywhere, lambananas in Liverpool and now we have rhinos in Chester.
Painted Rhino in Chester
There was also quite a lot of other street art. I particularly liked this baby elephant.
Baby Elephant in Chester
Funding the Arts
David Lister wrote this provocative article in today’s Independent.
He argues that cutting arts funding may be a good thing, especially as some institutions like the Royal Academy, Glyndebourne and the Lowry in Salford, seem to manage better without it.
He asks hat should the Royal Opera House gets as much subsidy as it does, when the companies based there never perform in the regions and does London really need four Symphony orchestras.
He also attacks the highly-paid time-servers on the boards of the various quangos that adminster taxpayers money an proposes more democracy in how money is allocated.
I agree with nearly everything he says.
The Anonymous Widower 