Monday, 24 January 2022

Don’t, won’t, can’t understand

This is a post created on my phone, so please make allowances. 
I don’t know much, but what I do know I know for certain - maybe. When there is a crisis, a lot of people make a lot of money.  Covid, WW2, and any other crisis you care to think of. 

I had white South African friends in the 1970s, and if I dared to criticise apartheid they would say, ‘you don’t understand’. 

I had many Israeli friends in the 1970s/80s, and if I dared to criticise their government they would say, ‘you don’t understand’.

A lot of people are going to make a lot of money from Putin’s invasion of the Ukraine.

If we are a little worried about a 40% rise in energy prices already, just wait until Putin invades. 

Britain - I am told - only relies on Russia for 5% of gas supplies. Phew. 

Saturday, 22 January 2022

A flambard

We watched the final episode of 'Flambards' last night. It is a strange and very English little series, but since I like 'A Canterbury Tale' so much, I do not bother to analyse why I like this one. I just do, plus it seems to perfectly encapsulate life in pre-WW1 England to me, and the actors fit the characters so well - they can really ride horses, drive vintage cars, fly vintage aeroplanes (maybe) and even knead bread like experts.

The actor who plays the admirable 'Dick' (Sebastian Abineri) in it would have been the perfect match for the portrayal of a young Boris Johnson if only he had been born 35 years later. What a waste.

There is a theme-park in Cornwall called Flambards and I knew the man who created it. I made some stone things for him when he lived in Bath, and he used to buy props for his creation from the yard where my workshop was.

I never understood why he called his place 'Flambards', but it must have been a tribute to the book of the same name or even this 1980s TV series.

Up until a few nights ago, I did not know the meaning of the word, 'flambard' either. Then it dawned on me that the entrance to the large house (Flambards) has a pair of 18th century stone urn finals either side of the front door.

These urns have a carved stone motif of flames at their very top. I have carved them before and let me tell you, representing a flame in stone would be quite tricky were it not for somebody having done it a few hundred years before you were born.

A 'flambard' must be the the topping of flame on these urn finials. There. I have learned something I should have known years ago.

Friday, 21 January 2022

Flambards Episode 1

This has been our obsession for the last week or two. I love everything about it, and all the actors are genuinely good at what they do, from horse riding to driving old cars, to making bread. The music is peculiarly seductive too.

One of the best series I have watched for ages, filmed in the 80s. I think you would like it. Subscribe and watch all 13 maybe?

Select YouTube.

Sunday, 16 January 2022

Pay to view

How do I hate thee? Let me list the ways... Well, a couple of them anyway. 

I despise our current government. This is not a plain and stupid left versus right type of post. Soon they will put forward a bill which defines two or more people in a public space as a 'meeting'. That in itself is pretty unarguable, but they are giving the police the power to decide for themselves whether or not the meeting looks to be shaping up into a demonstration or protest.

If this bill goes through and the police decide that the noise levels of a protest are too loud, or that the participants are likely to annoy shopkeepers or anyone else, they will be able to issue orders to disperse the meeting or protest, and anyone who does not obey will be liable for quite a lengthy prison sentence. Any car which is stopped by the police which contains a placard likely to be used at a demonstration or protest will make the driver and passengers liable for a six year prison sentence without any appeal.

At last, they are about to physically destroy the BBC (as darkly warned of recently) because it is 'too left-wing'. The first step is to freeze the licence fee. It's going to happen. 

I find it incredible how many left-wingers think the BBC has a right-wing bias, and how many right-wingers think the exact opposite. They both cannot be right. Maybe the truth lies somewhere in the middle where it belongs? Most free-thinkers would go along with that, but it is surprising how many 'free-thinkers' think that they are invulnerable to brain-washing.

I don't just want to see the back of Boris, I want to see the back of the lot of them.

Saturday, 15 January 2022

The King of Prussia

My daughter is doing some family research right now, which explains all these old photos turning up here. Can you spot me? I'll give you a clue - I was the youngest of four.

During her researches, H found a lost cousin of mine who I did not know even existed. She now lives in America and is the same age as me. As mentioned previously, my father and his brother fell out badly with each other, so a large chunk of Harry's history is lost to us. The sister on the top right (now deceased) went to visit Harry and his wife at the pub in Kingsbridge, Devon, and brokered a meeting between the two men which I - as already mentioned - attended. That was the first and last time I met that aunt and uncle.

Sharon in America filled in a bit of forgotten information by telling my daughter the name of the pub. It was called, 'The King of Prussia' - not easily forgotten, you would think. The two brothers had a sister called Olive, who must have fell in the middle of the dispute. I remember Olive, as I met her a few times at Christmas. There was another sister called Iris who I knew well. Iris and husband Alf came to stay every Christmas and I would spend a lonely two weeks every Summer in Brighton, where they lived. I remember the Mods versus Rockers battles on the seafront.

This is The King of Prussia as it is now. It has recently been in the news for only serving locals. That's me excluded then.

Friday, 14 January 2022


I have just noticed that my last post regarding Boris's burning underpants was my 4000th. If I had realised that at the time of writing I may have chosen a more edifying subject. I suppose I could take all the words written down over the years and rearrange them into something worth reading, but I really don't have the time any more.

Above is a photo of my mother and her brother. My mother is the one sitting on her mother. The other two are my maternal grandparents. I never met them. I have only recently been told of the 'Bings' of West Lothian, which were being made at about the same time as this photo was taken.

They are spoil-heaps from the extraction of shale oil from which they made petrol for the new-fangled motor car. This set of bings in the photo are just a few. There are many more and they dwarf the nearby towns and villages which lie in their shadow.

I have always been told that Silbury Hill is the largest man-made hill in Europe, but maybe they should have called it 'hand-made'.