For weeks I have marvelled at the displays of pumpkins prominently placed in the entrance to just about every supermarket, local shop and even on the roadside verge of smallholdings and country cottages.
On the main route from York to Thirsk I even saw a farm shop forecourt piled high with the things in a series of bulbous pyramids and with the proprietor looking nervously on in fear of a major disaster as customers attempted to extract the easiest ones lower down. I expect that cause of death attributable to "crushed by a pumpkin" may figure somewhere in health and safety statistics.
It certainly seems to have been perfect growing conditions for this years crop because the size and colour are phenomenal. Yes, big and bright orange.
There was no indication whatsoever of a great take up of the pumpkin stock amongst supermarket consumers as the stacked and boxed supplies seemed to be static even allowing for replenishment for intermittent purchase by well organised parents or impulse buyers.
I did not notice anyone struggling with a pumpkin in the car park nor having to re-arrange their trolleys to allow for the things amongst the weekly shop. This lack of pumpkin activity lulled many, including myself into a complacent approach to the matter of a pumpkin purchase.
There seemed to be no need for panic.
There would surely be plenty of pumpkins to go around when needed.
Shock, Horror for Halloween.
No pumpkins to be had for love nor money anywhere at all.
How had this situation occurred in a western free market economy?
The shelves for all other foodstuffs were typically stacked to bursting and yet the failure to acquire a pumpkin, especially after having made a promise to my family to get one gave me a terrible feeling of inadequacy and deprivation. It was an illogical feeling given that a pumpkin is a seasonal and novelty item and not one of the staples needed for nourishment and well being.
I am not sure, on this basis, if I would be able to cope with a genuine shortage of food.
I made an effort to get one and over about three hours of Halloween afternoon drove around a dozen or so retail outlets. Nothing left at Tesco, Asda, Sainsbury, Morrisons and in most of these megastores not even an empty void where they had previously been. Floor space is at a premium in such places and bonfire night goodies and Christmas specials had already taken up residence.
I sought out the next level of retailing in the neighbourhood express stores and independent traders but again nothing.
It was a case of having to think in broader terms.
What sort of shop might be left with surplus pumpkins?
I had previously overlooked the obvious sources of local fruit and veg shops but only because they are now very rare in our urban and city areas. A pumpkin is a big object but of low ticket price in trader-speak so takes up valuable window or forecourt space. The struggling traditional fruiter and vegetabler may not be cash-flow able to meet the short demand period although, ironically would probably stock the things on an all year round basis if grown anywhere in the world.
Nothing there either.
I glanced through the late afternoon gloom into the doorways of the International supermarkets but saw nothing vaguely orange or round.
An inspirational thought was to find a farm shop but I could not think of any first hand. I remembered a hand written sign on a lamp post in a suburban area pointing to such an establishment and made my way there through the now rush-hour traffic.
I was encouraged by the sight of a large inflatable pumpkin man at the gated entrance. Quite frightening in itself is the thought of a pumpkin able to make it owns way on legs, with arms waving in the wind and sporting a rakishly angled top hat.
The lady behind the counter looked at me with a mixture of pity and disappointment. The former for neglecting my duty as a parent at Halloween and the latter because she too had sold out of her stock, "you will not be able to get one between here and Bridlington" she announced. Sensing my anguish she attempted to sell me a melon but it was no substitute or consolation.
I made that dreaded phone all to the family priming them for the embarrassment of not having a carved pumpkin to put in the window.
Compounding the shame in my shortcomings was seeing a house on the main road with five ghoulish glowing faces mocking me from as many glazed openings.
I made a mental note to buy early this time next year or alternatively rent a shop for a few weeks and fill it to the rafters with pumpkins to make something of a financial killing
Tuesday 31 October 2017
Monday 30 October 2017
Local Hero; Ithaca
It was our first family holiday in a foreign country.
I am not sure why we, or to be honest I, put off for so long an overseas vacation.
It may have been fear of flying. Our wider family record is not too good with one aircrash fatality and our own first hand witnessing of a crew-less Tornado fighter bomber as it crossed the road at windscreen level in front of us and plopped noiselessly into the North Sea. Equally it may have been down to cost, logistics, shyness, in anticipation of language difficulties or any one of many other excuses.
Putting all illogical feelings aside ( well, just me again) It was a great experience on that inaugural holiday on Kefalonia in the Western Greek islands.
The five of us became immersed in the lifestyle and culture or as much as we could on our budget and in a very tiny Hyundai hire car. Travelling at snails pace because of unfamiliar and , frankly, extremely dangerous roads- some with a precipitous drop over cliffs with no safety barriers, we did see almost the whole of that Ionian Island.
One magical village with picturesque harbour overlooked a crystal blue, narrow strait of water towards Ithaca, the home in Greek Mythology of Odysseus and his son Telemachus.
This is a very brief synopsis of the life and times of Telemachus sourced from The Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology:
The son of Odysseus and Penelope (Hom. Od. i. 216). He was still an infant at the time when his father went to Troy, and in his absence of nearly twenty years he grew up to manhood. After the gods in council had determined that Odysseus should return home from the island of Ogygia, Athena, assuming the appearance of Mentes, king of the Taphians, went to Ithaca, and advised Telemachus to eject the troublesome suitors of his mother from his house, and to go to Pylos and Sparta, to gather information concerning his father. Telemachus followed the advice, but the suitors refused to quit his house; and Athena, in the form of Mentes, accompanied Telemachus to Pylos. There they were hospitably received by Nestor, who also sent his own son to conduct Telemachus to Sparta. Menelaus again kindly received him, and communicated to him the prophecy of Proteus concerning Odysseus (Hom. Od. i.–iv.). From Sparta Telemachus returned home; and on his arrival there, he found his father, with the swineherd Eumaeus. But as Athena had metamorphosed him into a beggar, Telemachus did not recognise his father until the latter disclosed to him who he was. Father and son now agreed to punish the suitors; and when they were slain or dispersed, Telemachus accompanied his father to the aged Laertes. (Hom. Od. xv.–xxiv.; comp. Odysseus.) In the post-Homeric traditions, we read that Palamedes, when endeavouring to persuade Odysseus to join the Greeks against Troy, and the latter feigned idiocy, placed the infant Telemachus before the plough with which Odysseus was ploughing (Hygin. Fab. 95; Serv. ad Aen. ii. 81; Tzetz. ad Lycoph. 384; Aelian, V. H. xiii. 12.). According to some accounts, Telemachus became the father of Perseptolis either by Polycaste, the daughter of Nestor, or by Nausicaa, the daughter of Alcinous (Eustath. ad Hom. p. 1796; Dict. Cret. vi. 6.). Others relate that he was induced by Athena to marry Circe, and became by her the father of Latinus(Hygin. Fab. 127; comp. Telegonus), or that he married Cassiphone, a daughter of Circe, but in a quarrel with his mother-in-law he slew her, for which in his turn he was killed by Cassiphone (Tzetz. ad Lycoph. 808.). He is also said to have had a daughter called Roma, who married Aeneas (Serv. ad Aen. i. 273.). One account states that Odysseus, in consequence of a prophecy that his son was dangerous to him, sent him away from Ithaca. Servius (ad Aen. x. 167) makes Telemachus the founder of the town of Clusium in Etruria.
I have always been fascinated by Greek Mythology, its characters, battles, fables and quests and so to be in the cradle of one of its main protagonists (well, from a distant view as the boat trip to Ithaca had just left) held me enthralled.
The Telemachus story stuck with me during that holiday as I imagined myself following in his forlorn footsteps as he searched for his absentee father in the knowledge of multiple suitors queueing up at home to woo his mother. He would certainly have cut a noble figure as opposed to my own demeanour in baggy shorts, replica football shirt and open toed sandals- well, perhaps we shared a common bit of attire in that latter item.
It was therefore fate that towards the last day of our fortnight we happened upon a pop up art gallery in the town of Argostoli on Kefalonia.
It may have just been an opportunity to escape the midday August heat without having to buy ice cream or iced coffees but there on display and for sale was a striking portrait of Telemachus by a local artist.
Now, we have usually made a point of purchasing a holiday memento or two on previous but UK only stays and this had resulted in cupboards and drawers stuffed full of fridge magnets, etched slates, crested spoons, ceramic plates, decorated pebbles and countless tea towels but stumbling out of the bright haze into the cool of the gallery gave us an opportunity to purchase a quality souvenir.
In terms of authenticity the artist lady was in attendance and so for fifty thousand drachma (although Greece was in the Euro Zone this did not become the currency until 2002) we acquired a wonderful picture of the local hero painted on wooden slats.
On that actual day in 2001 there were 544 Drachma to the UK pound but the work of art remains, to us , priceless.
Artist; Kristine Kefala Liodatou, Fragata San Gerasimos, Kefalonia, Greece.2001
Sunday 29 October 2017
Too late...you pressed SEARCH!!
It is an unfortunate truth that in this world of consumerism that we live in we tend to know the cost of everything but the value of nothing.
We have all, in a quiet or private moment searched on the internet for something that may be of fleeting interest, to satisfy an outstanding question or even as the basis on which to ponder about setting off in a new career or lifestyle direction.
In 2015, although only just in the last week or so coming to the attention of the mainstream media, the organisation Fixr.com who provide data on pricing for, amongst other sectors, the construction world produced a series of world maps onto which they had plotted the most searched for items for each country or region across all of the five continents.
Their data was gathered from the Google auto-complete tool used by those seeking answers on costs for and of things principally "How much does......(insert item or service here)....cost?".
The answers cannot be relied upon as a truly accurate capture of the mood or motivation of the peoples of nations worldwide but nevertheless they have thrown up some very interesting, revealing and somewhat disturbing.
Here is a cross section and my own analysis of the mapping details.
In the UK the main line of enquiry related to the cost of living, perhaps an indication of an attempt to cut down on household spending as a spin off of all of the TV programmes on lifestyle factors such as "Live well for less" or more deeply a yearning for a simpler, cheaper existence. There has been speculation that the nation has passed the tipping point for accumulating material goods and is now more interested in quality of life. In contrast the French and Spanish share an inquisitiveness in food and cigarettes supporting the widely held belief that those nations value leisure and the social side of eating and hospitality more than accumulation of assets.
The Germans however have an obssession with the symbol of their economic and financial power- the production models of BMW cars. The inhabitants of Eire, or Southern Ireland, search for the cost of funerals, the Greeks for wedding expenditure and the Italians dream of a Ferrari as an ultimate status symbol amongst their peers. The Scandinavians and Dutch are more studious, the Polish seek to travel from their homeland and in Belarus the cost of building a house is obviously important. I will let you come to your own conclusions about the ambitions, based on the items searched for in Ukraine and Bulgaria in particular. The Russians however have put lust behind them opting for finding out the cost of a flight in a MiG fighter plane.
On the same map in its Middle Eastern and North African listings the trend is for more day to day consumables. The conflict in Syria makes a loaf of bread an essential item, similarly in the conflict zones of the Horn of Africa and in other troubled regions fuels are keenly sought out. There is a stark reminder of the inequalities of wealth and resources in the region with most Googled items in the Gulf States being Lamborghini's, Play Stations and a house.
A troubling entry for Mauritania is the search for Slaves.
In the Indian sub continent the importance of a cow is emphasised giving the role of camels farther west a run for the money. Iranians are interested in kidneys and in Pakistan, weddings. The fact that trekking is most searched for in the Himalayan area suggests that tourists and general visitors are on the internet rather than locals and the same could be said for perhaps car hire in The Emirates and those interested in the sex trade in Thailand.
The generalisations in North America may be an anomaly of the search engine process but are still pretty enlightening.
You would think that Canadians, mostly second and third generation immigrants, would already be well travelled globally but there seems to be a great curiosity about passports. For the USA the focus seems to be on entreprenurial activity, to seek out a get rich invention and to really live that euphemism of the American Dream. Mexicans are keenly searching for the cosmetic surgery procedure of a tummy tuck and the Caribbean nations are understandably laid back in expressing an interest in retiring, weddings, beer and cigars although there may be trouble in paradise with the on line fascination with funerals and divorce.
In the southern part of the Americas the Brazilians obviously have a bit of time on their hands as well as being of higher levels of energy and libido. There are more practical considerations on the west coast covering the cost of living, a sun hat and cold drinks both fizzy and alcoholic.
In Australasia there is a simplicity and pragmatism in the most searched for items on the internet relating to family life, procreation and in the north island of New Zealand, a male conscience about over-population.
There is an overlapping on my reproduction of maps across the vast Asian region but with some interesting searches nonetheless. The emerging consumerist Chinese like their electronics whilst the Japanese craze watermelon. On the Korean Peninsula, the bottom part there must be a body shape obsession judging by the level of interest in rhinoplasty. Cars, maids and tattoos are popular internet trawls across Malyasia and Indonesia. Although a bit of a stereotype, perhaps the hardest working nationality on the planet, the Phillipino's just want to be able to afford to retire.
The error for misrepresentation and imbalance of such a data source must be taken with reservation and a bit of incredulity but there is a worrying underlying pattern of wealth, social, political and religious division engendered by its broad generalisations that should be taken notice of and addressed for the benefit of future generations and our co-existence on the planet earth.
(source. Fixr.com (2015) and Independent Newspaper October 2017)
We have all, in a quiet or private moment searched on the internet for something that may be of fleeting interest, to satisfy an outstanding question or even as the basis on which to ponder about setting off in a new career or lifestyle direction.
In 2015, although only just in the last week or so coming to the attention of the mainstream media, the organisation Fixr.com who provide data on pricing for, amongst other sectors, the construction world produced a series of world maps onto which they had plotted the most searched for items for each country or region across all of the five continents.
Their data was gathered from the Google auto-complete tool used by those seeking answers on costs for and of things principally "How much does......(insert item or service here)....cost?".
The answers cannot be relied upon as a truly accurate capture of the mood or motivation of the peoples of nations worldwide but nevertheless they have thrown up some very interesting, revealing and somewhat disturbing.
Here is a cross section and my own analysis of the mapping details.
In the UK the main line of enquiry related to the cost of living, perhaps an indication of an attempt to cut down on household spending as a spin off of all of the TV programmes on lifestyle factors such as "Live well for less" or more deeply a yearning for a simpler, cheaper existence. There has been speculation that the nation has passed the tipping point for accumulating material goods and is now more interested in quality of life. In contrast the French and Spanish share an inquisitiveness in food and cigarettes supporting the widely held belief that those nations value leisure and the social side of eating and hospitality more than accumulation of assets.
The Germans however have an obssession with the symbol of their economic and financial power- the production models of BMW cars. The inhabitants of Eire, or Southern Ireland, search for the cost of funerals, the Greeks for wedding expenditure and the Italians dream of a Ferrari as an ultimate status symbol amongst their peers. The Scandinavians and Dutch are more studious, the Polish seek to travel from their homeland and in Belarus the cost of building a house is obviously important. I will let you come to your own conclusions about the ambitions, based on the items searched for in Ukraine and Bulgaria in particular. The Russians however have put lust behind them opting for finding out the cost of a flight in a MiG fighter plane.
On the same map in its Middle Eastern and North African listings the trend is for more day to day consumables. The conflict in Syria makes a loaf of bread an essential item, similarly in the conflict zones of the Horn of Africa and in other troubled regions fuels are keenly sought out. There is a stark reminder of the inequalities of wealth and resources in the region with most Googled items in the Gulf States being Lamborghini's, Play Stations and a house.
A troubling entry for Mauritania is the search for Slaves.
In the Indian sub continent the importance of a cow is emphasised giving the role of camels farther west a run for the money. Iranians are interested in kidneys and in Pakistan, weddings. The fact that trekking is most searched for in the Himalayan area suggests that tourists and general visitors are on the internet rather than locals and the same could be said for perhaps car hire in The Emirates and those interested in the sex trade in Thailand.
The generalisations in North America may be an anomaly of the search engine process but are still pretty enlightening.
You would think that Canadians, mostly second and third generation immigrants, would already be well travelled globally but there seems to be a great curiosity about passports. For the USA the focus seems to be on entreprenurial activity, to seek out a get rich invention and to really live that euphemism of the American Dream. Mexicans are keenly searching for the cosmetic surgery procedure of a tummy tuck and the Caribbean nations are understandably laid back in expressing an interest in retiring, weddings, beer and cigars although there may be trouble in paradise with the on line fascination with funerals and divorce.
The error for misrepresentation and imbalance of such a data source must be taken with reservation and a bit of incredulity but there is a worrying underlying pattern of wealth, social, political and religious division engendered by its broad generalisations that should be taken notice of and addressed for the benefit of future generations and our co-existence on the planet earth.
(source. Fixr.com (2015) and Independent Newspaper October 2017)
Saturday 28 October 2017
Mild in Hull
At Latitude 53.7 Degrees North the City of Hull, or to give
it’s formal name Kingston Upon Hull, is on the same Parallel as territories in
British Columbia in Canada , Kamchatka in Russia, and parts of Lituania, Poland
and Kazakhstan.
Just the mention of these iconic far off names sends a shiver
down your spine as they are just synonymous with freezing cold and inclement,
if not harsh climatic conditions, notwithstanding for the latter places, political
conditions.
Mention Hull to anyone living in the Southern part of the UK and
you get a stock and rather stereotypical response about the bleak North in
terms of weather and social outlook.
I first moved to this part of East Yorkshire
when I was a teenager in the late 1970’s.
It was just a geographical house move
for the family of about 25 miles up the country but it was, to my
immature mind at the time, to the other side of the world.
I had expectations,
for some illogical reasoning, of snow, ice, blisteringly cold arctic winds
(there being nothing but the North Sea between Hull and Russia) and in between
a lot of horizontal rain and scant sunshine hours.
I could have not been more
wrong or misinformed and indeed under the influences of global warming and
climate change I now find that Hull is, in the speak of the Meteorological
Office, mild and warm even to the extent of being temperate.
This certainly
seems to have been borne out by the weather conditions over the last few years
and in the last 12 months I cannot recall there having been any ground frost at
otherwise expected times nor any significant snow.
There was a brief early
morning flurry of snow, on one day in March this year and although contributing to the
usual panic and chaos amongst the transport system in Hull it was but a mere
memory by lunchtime.
I was taught in secondary school that the eastern side of
the UK was in what was called a “rain shadow area”, to mean that any Atlantic
originating westerly wind heavily laden with precipitation moisture was
encouraged to drop it on making landfall on the western regions of the nation
leaving very little in cloud content by the time they reached the far side of
the Pennines.
This may have been the case in the climate archives but Hull now
has significant annual rainfall, this being no more evident than in the
disastrous city-wide flooding in 2007 and a few localised cases of downpour and
flash flooding more recently.
As for other climate statistics for Hull, well,
we should expect warm summers, mild winters and within these no actual dry
season.
Rainfall days according to Met Office records covering the period 1981
to 2010 were on average every third day giving an annual 680 mm. This is about
mid table in the UK League of Wettest Cities.
It is now late October and the
daily temperatures are still in double figures which is unprecedented. I drove
out into open countryside earlier this week into more seasonal temperatures of
only 4 degrees Celsius which would be about normal for the season but still a
surprise to me after recent trends.
Current records for maximum and minimum
temperatures are, for Hull, plus 34.4 degrees C from 1990 and minus 11 C in
1982. I am not sure if we will see such extremes again which I find depressing.
The seasons are tending to blur into one another with climatic changes and it
is now not unusual to experience a full four seasons weather in just one day.
Friday 27 October 2017
National Treasure
I met a lady called Edith today.
We got on really well. Her dog took a bit of a dislike to me but it was one of those chubby, bumbling types who seem to chunter at everything from a utility bill through the letter box to a late delivery of the evening paper,the dull thud of wheelie-bin men and Jehovah's Witnesses. Still, the dog was only doing its duty and keeping guard.
Edith lives on her own in a busy street. She has rented the same house for the last 70 years. I always like to ask how long people have lived in a house when I visit. It is interesting to see their chain of thought as they compute how long. This usually involves a quick glance at a child, a pet or a cherished photograph of a lost, loved one. Edith told me that her son was 2 years old when they moved to the house and he is now 72 years old. The incongruity of having a son aged 72 fascinated me.
I was, fortunately, ahead of my busy work schedule and so I was, for once, able to talk with one of the most interesting people I have ever met in the over 100 age category. Edith's story is remarkable but even more so is the fact that she is of razor sharp mind, recollection and with a wicked sense of humour. I have about 66% of these attributes which made us broadly compatible in outlook and attitude which I found pleasing but also disturbing in equal measures given the considerable differences in all other aspects of our life stories and experience.
To put things into some perspective Edith was the age I am now in the year that I was born. This is a difficult thing to comprehend and appreciate but an opportunity to meet and chat with someone representing a generation twice or three times distant is a rare thing. She was born and brought up in Hull and the local area. It was a time when very few were inclined or compelled to leave the place of their birth not out of a lack of ambition or insularity but because many towns and cities of that period could provide for everything required for a normal, modest and hard working life.
The old sepia tinted photographs of Hull show a very distinguished and thriving Port Town with Trawlers and Merchant Ships parked on the doorstep of the city centre, some very striking commercial and Corporate buildings which would not look out of place in Edinburgh or Nottingham and always crowds of pedestrians in their sunday best with a determined look of intent to get on with their busy lives.
I always make point of asking about the wartime experiences of longstanding residents of the city because it was a major chapter in the auspicious history of Hull and one that I am convinced still has some persistence even today in how the city has fared after the devastation and upheaval of that time. Hull was very much on the front line but has never received the righteous recognition for its strife.
Edith was but one of those bombed out of their terraced houses and in 1942 she took up residence where she now still lives. Whilst the rehousing will have been very welcome I would not, myself, feel much more secure given that the two properties were but half a mile apart. The gutted shell of the old house on Folkestone Street was only discovered by Edith upon her return from working on the Hull to Withernsea railway line one smoke filled morning after an all night shift.
The railway job was right out towards the east coast and I was able to identify many of the areas still strongly imprinted in Ediths memory. We spoke about Patrington, a small town but with a history of prosperity from the Middle Ages from sea trade and agriculture. Edith was married at St Patricks Church whose sheer size and grandeur testifies to the former wealth and status of the town. She worked in the signal box and also manned the road crossing just on the north western edge of town during the war years. She remembered the old Flax Mill, The White Hall, had attended Winestead School and we traded stories of Enholmes Farm, the Crown Estate cottages, local shops and the rolling Holderness countryside. Of course, Edith had seen all of these in their halcyon days whereas my experience related to more mundane things and with many of the buildings now serving a very different purpose, mainly as private houses and not places of thriving business and employment.
Her ability to recall names, dates, places and events was astounding and when it was my turn to add a story or anecdote of my own I stumbled and 'ummed', and 'aahed' unable to extricate any sense whatsoever. Our mental ability and agility was, in effect, reversed which was a shameful thing for me to admit but it was true.
The time sped by and I felt that I had known Edith for a good part of my life. I admitted to my hijacking of the Methodist Chapel at Easington for a good sing song rather than doing the job I was asked to do there and Edith found this hilarious. She had just been able to track down a hymn or anthem that her father had sung to her when she was a young child and the piano in the front parlour would soon be cleared of its resident soft toys for a nostalgic rendition of 'Pull for the Shore Sailor' by Philip Bliss (1873).
If we had had the music there and then I am convinced that the street will have resounded to our combined effort resembling a good old Sunday School sing song.
On leaving, reluctantly on my part , Edith with great pride showed me her telegram from the Queen for her 100th birthday just a few weeks before. It was signed in a very beautiful and delicate handwriting and not in any way rubber stamped or faked by a lady in waiting. I was impressed. The portrait photograph of the Queen was glossy but she did not look very happy with her own 86 years behind her but as Edith rightly said, that is the trouble with the young people of today.
We got on really well. Her dog took a bit of a dislike to me but it was one of those chubby, bumbling types who seem to chunter at everything from a utility bill through the letter box to a late delivery of the evening paper,the dull thud of wheelie-bin men and Jehovah's Witnesses. Still, the dog was only doing its duty and keeping guard.
Edith lives on her own in a busy street. She has rented the same house for the last 70 years. I always like to ask how long people have lived in a house when I visit. It is interesting to see their chain of thought as they compute how long. This usually involves a quick glance at a child, a pet or a cherished photograph of a lost, loved one. Edith told me that her son was 2 years old when they moved to the house and he is now 72 years old. The incongruity of having a son aged 72 fascinated me.
I was, fortunately, ahead of my busy work schedule and so I was, for once, able to talk with one of the most interesting people I have ever met in the over 100 age category. Edith's story is remarkable but even more so is the fact that she is of razor sharp mind, recollection and with a wicked sense of humour. I have about 66% of these attributes which made us broadly compatible in outlook and attitude which I found pleasing but also disturbing in equal measures given the considerable differences in all other aspects of our life stories and experience.
To put things into some perspective Edith was the age I am now in the year that I was born. This is a difficult thing to comprehend and appreciate but an opportunity to meet and chat with someone representing a generation twice or three times distant is a rare thing. She was born and brought up in Hull and the local area. It was a time when very few were inclined or compelled to leave the place of their birth not out of a lack of ambition or insularity but because many towns and cities of that period could provide for everything required for a normal, modest and hard working life.
The old sepia tinted photographs of Hull show a very distinguished and thriving Port Town with Trawlers and Merchant Ships parked on the doorstep of the city centre, some very striking commercial and Corporate buildings which would not look out of place in Edinburgh or Nottingham and always crowds of pedestrians in their sunday best with a determined look of intent to get on with their busy lives.
I always make point of asking about the wartime experiences of longstanding residents of the city because it was a major chapter in the auspicious history of Hull and one that I am convinced still has some persistence even today in how the city has fared after the devastation and upheaval of that time. Hull was very much on the front line but has never received the righteous recognition for its strife.
Edith was but one of those bombed out of their terraced houses and in 1942 she took up residence where she now still lives. Whilst the rehousing will have been very welcome I would not, myself, feel much more secure given that the two properties were but half a mile apart. The gutted shell of the old house on Folkestone Street was only discovered by Edith upon her return from working on the Hull to Withernsea railway line one smoke filled morning after an all night shift.
The railway job was right out towards the east coast and I was able to identify many of the areas still strongly imprinted in Ediths memory. We spoke about Patrington, a small town but with a history of prosperity from the Middle Ages from sea trade and agriculture. Edith was married at St Patricks Church whose sheer size and grandeur testifies to the former wealth and status of the town. She worked in the signal box and also manned the road crossing just on the north western edge of town during the war years. She remembered the old Flax Mill, The White Hall, had attended Winestead School and we traded stories of Enholmes Farm, the Crown Estate cottages, local shops and the rolling Holderness countryside. Of course, Edith had seen all of these in their halcyon days whereas my experience related to more mundane things and with many of the buildings now serving a very different purpose, mainly as private houses and not places of thriving business and employment.
Her ability to recall names, dates, places and events was astounding and when it was my turn to add a story or anecdote of my own I stumbled and 'ummed', and 'aahed' unable to extricate any sense whatsoever. Our mental ability and agility was, in effect, reversed which was a shameful thing for me to admit but it was true.
The time sped by and I felt that I had known Edith for a good part of my life. I admitted to my hijacking of the Methodist Chapel at Easington for a good sing song rather than doing the job I was asked to do there and Edith found this hilarious. She had just been able to track down a hymn or anthem that her father had sung to her when she was a young child and the piano in the front parlour would soon be cleared of its resident soft toys for a nostalgic rendition of 'Pull for the Shore Sailor' by Philip Bliss (1873).
If we had had the music there and then I am convinced that the street will have resounded to our combined effort resembling a good old Sunday School sing song.
On leaving, reluctantly on my part , Edith with great pride showed me her telegram from the Queen for her 100th birthday just a few weeks before. It was signed in a very beautiful and delicate handwriting and not in any way rubber stamped or faked by a lady in waiting. I was impressed. The portrait photograph of the Queen was glossy but she did not look very happy with her own 86 years behind her but as Edith rightly said, that is the trouble with the young people of today.
Thursday 26 October 2017
History for Dummies
Thanks to those great, hard working people at The US National Air and Space Museum I receive regular newsletters on how Neil Armstrong's spacesuit is proceeding through the restoration process and to which I have been proud to contribute through a crowdfunding initiative. Just follow these links to catch up; Simply click on each
This is the latest update from #RebootTheSuit!
Thanks to your generous support, we've been busily getting ready to move into research and production of the mannequin that will support Neil Armstrong’s spacesuit while on display! As you might expect, we’re using state of the art technology to create the perfect mannequin for the suit.
What are the requirements for the mannequin?
The mannequin needs to be a figure that will be able to support the weight of the suit, will not push or pull against the fabrics of the suit, and will use techniques and materials that don’t interact with the suit and is able to last for decades to come.
Exhibits specialists at the National Air and Space Museum have been doing extensive research into 3D printed materials that could be used for functional components of the internal mannequin, which will provide support to Neil Armstrong’s spacesuit while on display. However, before a decision can be made on which material to begin using for prototypes, the Conservation team must evaluate the materials in order to make sure that they do not emit any harmful compounds that could put the suit at risk.
What’s the ”Oddy” test?
Because Neil Armstrong’s spacesuit is comprised of many different materials, it's important to know how they will be affected over time by the materials used in the display.
Conservators often turn to the “Oddy” test to evaluate the suitability of materials used for the storage and exhibition of museum artifacts. The “Oddy” test is an accelerated corrosion test developed at the British Museum by conservation scientist Andrew Oddy in 1973 and is still readily used today. It is a test that can help predict whether or not certain materials are safe to use inside an enclosed environment, such as a display case or storage box.
In such confined spaces, harmful emissions from display case materials, graphics, or even mount materials may become trapped and react with the materials comprising an artifact. Metals may corrode if enclosed with inappropriate materials, for example, and other non-metallic, inorganic artifacts such as glass or ceramics can suffer from the formation of damaging salts.
Organic materials as well as synthetics such as those used to create Armstrong’s spacesuit can react to these harmful vapors over time and the white outer fabric could become brittle or discolor.
How is an "Oddy" test done?
Seven different materials that are being considered for use in the mannequin system will be tested using the “Oddy” test. Each material will be sealed in an inert glass jar with a small amount of moisture and heated in an oven for 30 days. A small test coupon comprised of lead, copper and stainless steel will also be included in each jar. Each material will also be tested without a coupon for control purposes. The amount of corrosion that forms on the coupons is indicative of time, and can be used to evaluate the printing materials for use in display. While this method is not quantitative, it is used worldwide in museums and databases and can be used for comparative purposes.
Stay tuned for the results of our Oddy testing next month and much more on building the perfect mannequin for Armstrong’s suit!
Wednesday 25 October 2017
Doctor in the House?
Sometimes those high volume house builders whose speculative efforts dominate the approaches to and from our most picturesque towns and cities go a bit bonkers.
There can be Victoriana features, pseudo cottage and farmhouse designs, a bit of half timbering and stucco rendering, imitation sash windows in UPVC and other external embellishments intended to disguise the fact that, after all, there are just boxes for living underneath.
I apologise here to those who have just committed themselves to a lifetimes mortgage on what could, in actuality be or prove to be their dream or forever home but let's face it those big, no mega house-builders just do what they think is most profitable and make it so very easy for the house buying public to accept the styles, designs and specifications as the latest popular trend.
So, I was a bit aghast at coming across this newly built property just today whilst visiting a development site in the North Yorkshire region of the UK.
On first impression I took it to be a Medical Centre, not unknown in the middle of new housing estates nowadays, but then again it could have been an office building, social care establishment or sub divided into flats. In this specific location it would be quite apt for the place to operate as a Veterinary Surgery ( a bit of a clue as to the location) It is a bit of a mish-mash. Someone has just said it looks like a church or a coastguard station.
It stands on a short tarmac road which serves some nice sensible executive 4 beds on the further phase of a still on going estate on the western side of an historic market town.
It does have some unique selling points.
The floor area at a shoebox under 200m square metres is not at all bad in the current crop of new build housing although that does include up to 5 bedrooms. The use of the descriptive words- home office or bedroom 5 suggests a bit of a small space in that part of the house.
The glazed area to the front ground floor is a sun room (actually south facing) leading through to the lounge and across the hallway is the contemporary trend in housing estate lifestyles of a combined and open plan kitchen-diner and family room. This hearkens back to the days when all of the occupants huddled in one room and left the best parlour neat and tidy just in case the Vicar or Priest happened to call in on pastoral duties and for a cup of tea and a biscuit.
The smaller ground floor compartments are the usual utility and cloak rooms. The downstairs toilet is one of four in the house (remind me to buy shares in Andrex toilet tissue)
The first floor has rooms arranged around a small landing in the traditional manner with Master and en suite, three other bedrooms including the home office and a house bathroom.
At the top of the house is what is referred to as a Guest Bedroom with its own bathroom. I can immediately envisage a hard battle amongst a typical prospective purchaser family over the allocation of rooms with the loft feature room making an ideal teenager pad, Mum and Dads boudoir or a sort of flatlet for a fit, mobile family elder.
There is a push in high volume housing towards eco-friendly features and equipment or at least those bits of kit that can be rolled out at a profit. This odd looking property is "B" rated on its Energy Performance Certificate although to be frank, it would not have taken much more effort to achieve that elusive "A" rating, although in no way to be confused with emission proficiency. That is a completely different set of standards and a long way off being attained in high volume output.
Amongst the tech are solar panels for power, well that's actually it as you can count double glazing and an efficient boiler as standard specification anyway.
As for the site, well it is again somewhat standard fare with a detached double garage and for the size of house and potential 6 person occupancy a fairly small garden. One positive for the future is a huge driveway which may be needed if, as supported by the latest statistics, any young adults of car owning and driving age may still be living at home well into their late twenties and early thirties. At a push about eight vehicles could be parked up.
I have seen not dissimilar house styles in other areas of Yorkshire but they have been designed to provide functional accommodation as the occupants, for example, grow older with sliding partitions and a flexibility to allow a ground floor living room to be easily adapted into a bedroom as, after all, a degree of infirmity will arise in later years.
The house is not yet sold at an asking price of £365,000. That may sound cheap to those of you in high price housing areas but ask yourself, could you actually live in such a creation?
There can be Victoriana features, pseudo cottage and farmhouse designs, a bit of half timbering and stucco rendering, imitation sash windows in UPVC and other external embellishments intended to disguise the fact that, after all, there are just boxes for living underneath.
I apologise here to those who have just committed themselves to a lifetimes mortgage on what could, in actuality be or prove to be their dream or forever home but let's face it those big, no mega house-builders just do what they think is most profitable and make it so very easy for the house buying public to accept the styles, designs and specifications as the latest popular trend.
So, I was a bit aghast at coming across this newly built property just today whilst visiting a development site in the North Yorkshire region of the UK.
On first impression I took it to be a Medical Centre, not unknown in the middle of new housing estates nowadays, but then again it could have been an office building, social care establishment or sub divided into flats. In this specific location it would be quite apt for the place to operate as a Veterinary Surgery ( a bit of a clue as to the location) It is a bit of a mish-mash. Someone has just said it looks like a church or a coastguard station.
It stands on a short tarmac road which serves some nice sensible executive 4 beds on the further phase of a still on going estate on the western side of an historic market town.
It does have some unique selling points.
The floor area at a shoebox under 200m square metres is not at all bad in the current crop of new build housing although that does include up to 5 bedrooms. The use of the descriptive words- home office or bedroom 5 suggests a bit of a small space in that part of the house.
The glazed area to the front ground floor is a sun room (actually south facing) leading through to the lounge and across the hallway is the contemporary trend in housing estate lifestyles of a combined and open plan kitchen-diner and family room. This hearkens back to the days when all of the occupants huddled in one room and left the best parlour neat and tidy just in case the Vicar or Priest happened to call in on pastoral duties and for a cup of tea and a biscuit.
The smaller ground floor compartments are the usual utility and cloak rooms. The downstairs toilet is one of four in the house (remind me to buy shares in Andrex toilet tissue)
The first floor has rooms arranged around a small landing in the traditional manner with Master and en suite, three other bedrooms including the home office and a house bathroom.
At the top of the house is what is referred to as a Guest Bedroom with its own bathroom. I can immediately envisage a hard battle amongst a typical prospective purchaser family over the allocation of rooms with the loft feature room making an ideal teenager pad, Mum and Dads boudoir or a sort of flatlet for a fit, mobile family elder.
There is a push in high volume housing towards eco-friendly features and equipment or at least those bits of kit that can be rolled out at a profit. This odd looking property is "B" rated on its Energy Performance Certificate although to be frank, it would not have taken much more effort to achieve that elusive "A" rating, although in no way to be confused with emission proficiency. That is a completely different set of standards and a long way off being attained in high volume output.
Amongst the tech are solar panels for power, well that's actually it as you can count double glazing and an efficient boiler as standard specification anyway.
As for the site, well it is again somewhat standard fare with a detached double garage and for the size of house and potential 6 person occupancy a fairly small garden. One positive for the future is a huge driveway which may be needed if, as supported by the latest statistics, any young adults of car owning and driving age may still be living at home well into their late twenties and early thirties. At a push about eight vehicles could be parked up.
I have seen not dissimilar house styles in other areas of Yorkshire but they have been designed to provide functional accommodation as the occupants, for example, grow older with sliding partitions and a flexibility to allow a ground floor living room to be easily adapted into a bedroom as, after all, a degree of infirmity will arise in later years.
The house is not yet sold at an asking price of £365,000. That may sound cheap to those of you in high price housing areas but ask yourself, could you actually live in such a creation?
Tuesday 24 October 2017
Eyeore's Best Kept Secret
We are so used to buying pretty fruit and vegetables that once in a while, when confronted with something just downright plain ugly the overriding emotion is one of panic.
I have, of course in that sweeping sentence alienated all organic growers and those who toil in their own time on an allotment to churn out a handful of mishapen, distorted but very tasty produce.
You can imagine my hesitation therefore when a keen gardening friend of my wife kindly provided, amongst a wicker basket full of home cultivated goodies, four artichokes.
In a world of sanitised foods the artichoke represents a bit of a throwback in its curious appearance which is truly unusual.
I have of course tasted artichokes before, albeit limited to one of those small filled pots of a roasted variety found in a Deli counter but nothing quite prepares you for coming across the vegetable in its natural form.
It is difficult to place it in the family tree of veg because of its unique characteristics but this is more than explained by its origins in the thistle family- it is actually a species of thistle that over the ages has been cultivated as a food.
It is a plant of quite a pedigree being mentioned as a garden plant in the 8th century BC by the great archivist story tellers, Homer and Hesiod.
The naturally occurring variant of the artichoke, the cardoon (Cynara cardunculus), is native to the Mediterranean area and it was through that region in history that the great civilisations of the ancient Greeks and Romans made use of it. Pliny the Elder mentioned the growing of artichokes in the kingdoms of Carthage and Cordoba.
In North Africa, where today it is still found in the wild state, the seeds of artichokes, probably cultivated, were found during the excavation of the Roman-period quarrying operations in Egypt.Varieties of artichokes were cultivated in Sicily beginning in the classical period of the ancient Greeks; the Greeks calling them kaktos. This obviously, in interpretation, caused some confusion over what the artichoke actually was.
In that period, the Greeks ate the leaves and flower heads, which through domestication had already improved from the wild form.
The Romans called the vegetable carduus (hence the name cardoon). Further improvement in the cultivated form appears to have taken place in the medieval period in Muslim Spain and the Barbary Coast region.
Names for the artichoke in English and many other European languages today hearken back to the old civilisations who spoke medieval Arabic.
How to approach the cooking of an artichoke?
There is plenty of guidance on the subject although I have not found this very comforting in that, similar to dissecting a crab there are more parts to be discarded than to put on the plate. The edible portion of the plant consists of the flower buds before the flowers come into bloom. The budding artichoke flower-head is a cluster of many budding small flowers together with many smaller leaf growths on an edible base. Once the buds bloom, the structure changes to a coarse, barely edible form.
Here is a cross section of the plant.
If the artichokes have little thorns on the end of the petals, take a pair of scissors and cut off the thorny tips from all of the petals. The rather barbed thorns do soften with cooking and do not detract from eating the artichoke.Slice about 3/4 inch to an inch off the tip of the artichoke.Pull off any smaller petals towards the base and on the stem.Cut off any excess stem as that part tends to be bitter than the rest of the artichoke. Rinse the artichokes in running cold water. This should also help to flush out any bugs and insects who have made a cosy home within. While you rinse them, open up the petals a little so that the water does get inside more easily.
In a large pot, put a couple inches of water, a clove of garlic, a slice of lemon, and a bay leaf. These ingredients are for aromatic infusion and really compliment the taste. Insert a steaming basket.Place artichokes on top of the steaming basket. Cover the pot. Bring to a boil and reduce heat to simmer.An alternative method of stovetop cooking appears straightforward as in, place in cold water and bring to the boil before letting it simmer for anywhere between 25 and 45 minutes depending on the size of the artichoke. The key pointer is for the outer leaves to reach a stage where they can be easily pulled off.
In my panic I boiled the thing to its death resulting in a very wooden taste- a bit like that from chewing the end of a pencil.
As for the actual eating? The artichoke is quite versatile. As a main course ingredient it goes well in a stew or as an accompaniment to sea bass, salt marsh lamb and rabbit. If you are thinking about a light meal or snack then try raw in a salad, roasted or preserved. In a starter menu the artichoke can go with scallops and in ravioli.
So, don't be put off by the unique character of this ancient vegetable.You may however have some trouble finding them on UK supermarket or grocery store shelves which is a pity but then again, the artichoke may upset and offend those who are just a bit sensitive about the appearance of their fresh produce.
I have, of course in that sweeping sentence alienated all organic growers and those who toil in their own time on an allotment to churn out a handful of mishapen, distorted but very tasty produce.
You can imagine my hesitation therefore when a keen gardening friend of my wife kindly provided, amongst a wicker basket full of home cultivated goodies, four artichokes.
I have of course tasted artichokes before, albeit limited to one of those small filled pots of a roasted variety found in a Deli counter but nothing quite prepares you for coming across the vegetable in its natural form.
It is difficult to place it in the family tree of veg because of its unique characteristics but this is more than explained by its origins in the thistle family- it is actually a species of thistle that over the ages has been cultivated as a food.
It is a plant of quite a pedigree being mentioned as a garden plant in the 8th century BC by the great archivist story tellers, Homer and Hesiod.
The naturally occurring variant of the artichoke, the cardoon (Cynara cardunculus), is native to the Mediterranean area and it was through that region in history that the great civilisations of the ancient Greeks and Romans made use of it. Pliny the Elder mentioned the growing of artichokes in the kingdoms of Carthage and Cordoba.
In that period, the Greeks ate the leaves and flower heads, which through domestication had already improved from the wild form.
The Romans called the vegetable carduus (hence the name cardoon). Further improvement in the cultivated form appears to have taken place in the medieval period in Muslim Spain and the Barbary Coast region.
Names for the artichoke in English and many other European languages today hearken back to the old civilisations who spoke medieval Arabic.
How to approach the cooking of an artichoke?
There is plenty of guidance on the subject although I have not found this very comforting in that, similar to dissecting a crab there are more parts to be discarded than to put on the plate. The edible portion of the plant consists of the flower buds before the flowers come into bloom. The budding artichoke flower-head is a cluster of many budding small flowers together with many smaller leaf growths on an edible base. Once the buds bloom, the structure changes to a coarse, barely edible form.
Here is a cross section of the plant.
If the artichokes have little thorns on the end of the petals, take a pair of scissors and cut off the thorny tips from all of the petals. The rather barbed thorns do soften with cooking and do not detract from eating the artichoke.Slice about 3/4 inch to an inch off the tip of the artichoke.Pull off any smaller petals towards the base and on the stem.Cut off any excess stem as that part tends to be bitter than the rest of the artichoke. Rinse the artichokes in running cold water. This should also help to flush out any bugs and insects who have made a cosy home within. While you rinse them, open up the petals a little so that the water does get inside more easily.
In a large pot, put a couple inches of water, a clove of garlic, a slice of lemon, and a bay leaf. These ingredients are for aromatic infusion and really compliment the taste. Insert a steaming basket.Place artichokes on top of the steaming basket. Cover the pot. Bring to a boil and reduce heat to simmer.An alternative method of stovetop cooking appears straightforward as in, place in cold water and bring to the boil before letting it simmer for anywhere between 25 and 45 minutes depending on the size of the artichoke. The key pointer is for the outer leaves to reach a stage where they can be easily pulled off.
In my panic I boiled the thing to its death resulting in a very wooden taste- a bit like that from chewing the end of a pencil.
As for the actual eating? The artichoke is quite versatile. As a main course ingredient it goes well in a stew or as an accompaniment to sea bass, salt marsh lamb and rabbit. If you are thinking about a light meal or snack then try raw in a salad, roasted or preserved. In a starter menu the artichoke can go with scallops and in ravioli.
So, don't be put off by the unique character of this ancient vegetable.You may however have some trouble finding them on UK supermarket or grocery store shelves which is a pity but then again, the artichoke may upset and offend those who are just a bit sensitive about the appearance of their fresh produce.
Monday 23 October 2017
British Home Snores
I am no expert but I have been kicked and prodded by my wife during many a sleeping hour as her natural reaction to my persistent snoring. I have tried a few preventative measures such as avoiding alcohol, wearing a sticky nose band, lying on my front and keeping the bedroom window open for an influx of cold clean air. The bruises on my shins testify to the fact that none of these have had any success.
Now for the technical physical details; Snoring and obstructive sleep apnoea syndrome are two highly
prevalent sleep disorders caused by collapse of the upper airways.
The most effective intervention for these disorders is
continuous positive airway pressure therapy, which reduces daytime sleepiness and
the risk of cardiovascular morbidity and mortality in the most severely
affected patients. It is a potentially life threatening affliction.
Moderately affected patients complain about snoring and daytime
sleepiness, however, continuous positive airway pressure therapy may not be
suitable and other effective interventions are needed.
After so many decades of scientific and medical investigation and no doubt millions of pounds spent on laboratory and clinical research it was quite a surprise when a didgeridoo instructor reported that he and some of his
students experienced reduced daytime sleepiness and snoring after practising
with this instrument for several months.
Just about everyone must know about the didgeridoo but here is a crash course about it.
The didgeridoo (also known as a didjeridu) is a wind instrument developed by Indigenous Australians of northern Australia potentially within the last 1,500 years and still in widespread use today both in Australia and around the world. It is sometimes described as a natural wooden trumpet or "drone pipe".
Musicologists classify it as a brass aerophone. A modern didgeridoo is usually cylindrical or conical, and can measure anywhere from 1 to 3 m (3 to 10 ft) long. Most are around 1.2 m (4 ft) long. Generally, the longer the instrument, the lower its pitch or key. However, flared instruments play a higher pitch than unflared instruments of the same length.
In one of the instructor's pupils, the apnoea-hypopnoea decreased significantly.This
was thought to be due to training of the muscles of the upper airways, which
control airway dilation and wall stiffening.
Scientists tested the hypothesis that training of the upper
airways by didgeridoo playing reduces daytime sleepiness in moderately affected
patients.
Participants in the intervention group started their
didgeridoo training on an eight week programme.
The instructor taught the participants the lip technique to
produce and hold the keynote for 20-30 seconds.
In the second lesson at week 2 the instructor explained the
concept and technique of circular breathing. Circular breathing is a technique
that enables the wind instrumentalist to maintain a sound for long periods of
time by inhaling through the nose while maintaining airflow through the
instrument, using the cheeks as bellows.
In the third lesson (week 4) the didgeridoo instructor taught
the participants his technique to further optimise the complex interaction
between the lips, the vocal tract, and circular breathing so that the
vibrations in the upper airway are more readily transmitted to the lower
airways
By the fourth lesson, eight weeks on the instructor and the participants
repeated the basics of didgeridoo playing and made corrections when necessary.
Participants had to practice at home for at least 20 minutes on at least five
days a week and recorded the days with practice and the practice time.
The often long suffering partners of those with the condition
rated their sleep disturbance by the participants' snoring during the previous
seven nights on a visual analogue scale from 0 (not disturbed at all) to 5
(severely disturbed), 7 (very severely disturbed), 9 (very, very severely
disturbed), and 10 (extremely disturbed).
The partners completed the scale
independently from the participants and sent it back to the study centre.
In conclusion, didgeridoo playing improved daytime sleepiness
in patients with moderate snoring and obstructive sleep apnoea and reduced
sleep disturbance in their partners.
Larger trials will be required to confirm
the promising preliminary findings, but the first study results may give hope
to the many people with moderate obstructive sleep apnoea syndrome and snoring,
as well as to their partners.
(Reproduced shamelessly from the work of Puhan, Suarez, Lo Cascio, Zahn, Heitz and Braendli published in the BMJ in 2006. Winners of the Peace Prize in the 2017 Ig Nobel Awards by the publication Improbable Research)
(Reproduced shamelessly from the work of Puhan, Suarez, Lo Cascio, Zahn, Heitz and Braendli published in the BMJ in 2006. Winners of the Peace Prize in the 2017 Ig Nobel Awards by the publication Improbable Research)
Sunday 22 October 2017
Angry Britain
There seems to be a great welling up of anger and frustration in this country of ours.
It may be down to the Brexit thing or equally to personal circumstances and not a little bit of jealously about others who always seem ,or at least give the impression of being, better off and more fortunate than we are.
The emotions in us can erupt in all manner of places and scenarios such as in a jostling queue, where there may be a perceived injustice or out on the road.
I would normally do my utmost to avoid watching a TV programme with the title of "Angry Britain" but felt compelled to watch it nevertheless.
It was a revelation not so much about the petty situations whereby we find ourselves in conflict with our neighbours and fellow citizens but more for the very poor quality of swearing and profanity that comes out of our mouths.
The commonplace obscenities of the F, C and B words are all too easy to bawl and shout but do lack imagination, meaning and also an essential element of humour that could actually help to diffuse a potentially inflammatory series of events.
We seem to have lost the art of being tactfully and skillfully rude.
I have therefore sought to re-introduce ten top insults from yesteryear which must return to our everyday vocabulary before they are lost forever and we have nothing left but to resort to fisticuffs and general violent behaviour.
These are, in no particular order of application, as follows;
1) Nincompoop. As in, you are a complete idiot. This was regularly in earshot when I was but a nipper and actually sounded both insulting and exciting. Its derivation is thought to be as a shortened form of "non compos mentis" or not of sound mind. It will have been sidelined in this politically correct and sanitised society that we now find ourselves to be simultaneously applauding and finding extreme frustration with.
2) Wazzock. The comedian Tony Capstick in the context of the then 1980's managed to put this word into the meaningful sentence of "You great useless spawny eyed parrot faced wazzock". It has multiple relevance but in today's sensitive environment can upset quite a cross section of the population in one go. It's origins are a matter of great debate from meaning a bulls penis to the urination practices of a Northerner and a straining cloth to the marriage of the words wanker and pillock.
3) Codswallop. One of my "old school" teachers at one of my old schools was quick to use this word when presented with substandard classroom or home produced coursework. Again it has a few claims to its origins. The obvious mention of a species of fish suggests something a bit nasty and smelly but the popular myth is linked to a brand of soft drink by a manufacturer called Codd. The vociferous sect of beer drinkers derided the availabilty of a soft drink by calling it Codds Wallop, the latter meaning beer. It is also connected to a wooden device used to dislodge the glass marble stopper from an old fashioned drinks bottle.
4) Lummox. I was reminded of this very evocative insult when a member of a radio panel show mentioned it as their favourite word. Put together as in "You steaming great lummox" I can see its attraction in a conflict scenario. It is thought to be derived from lumbering ox which is self explanatory to describe a ponderous, clumsy and rather dim person.
5) Bulls Pizzle. You need not go further than the great Shakespeare to see the value of a hard hitting profanity. In Henry the 4th, Part One the dialogue reads "away you starvelling, you elf skin, you dried neat's tongue, bulls pizzle, you stock fish". Of course, if I were in a situation where this sentence would be an ultimate put-down to an assailant or complainant I would struggle to remember it word for word. Bulls Pizzle would do just fine or in fact any of the others.
6) Ninny. This is a shortened form of nincompoop (see above at 1) but has a degree of affection in its tone and delivery. I can see it being quite useful in a situation where close family or good friends are involved and although some chiding is called for it can be in a gentler and advisory form.
7) Big Girl's blouse. This is an ideal substitute for the more inflammatory wuss, cissy and coward. It can be beyond reasonable to question someone's bravery and commitment as this often causes a violent reaction. The worst insult in this category can be making chicken sounds as this always creates bravado and machismo. Although still meaning an emasculated and weak or moaning male it is sufficiently humoured to be received without too much of a risk of an adverse outburst from the recipient.
8) Fop or Dandy. These words are heard very rarely nowadays as they are reminiscent of a bygone era of male flamboyance, affected character and large powdered wigs. Nevertheless I can see them having some relevance today when directed at an adversary who may be well groomed, coiffured, suited and booted.
9) Dunderhead. Another throwback to my schooling in the 1970's and where I was usually the target for its barbed meaning. At least the teacher was being kind on the basis that alternatives for dunderhead include Idiot,Plonker,Pillock,Klutz,Dunce,Numbskull, Blockhead, Bonehead, Lunkhead, Hammerhead, Knucklehead ,Muttonhead, Shithead and Fuckhead
and finally,
10) Fussbucket. Not such a popular name by way of insult but straight to the point in highlighting a tedious person as being able to more than fill a bucket with their fussiness and awkward tedious behaviour.
I am determined during the coming week to use one or more of the above in a unique social experiment in any potentially adversarial situation that I may find myself in.
I will report back with my findings or if you do not hear from me directly then just contact the local hospital to see what specialist ward my subsequent battle scars have qualified me for.
It may be down to the Brexit thing or equally to personal circumstances and not a little bit of jealously about others who always seem ,or at least give the impression of being, better off and more fortunate than we are.
The emotions in us can erupt in all manner of places and scenarios such as in a jostling queue, where there may be a perceived injustice or out on the road.
I would normally do my utmost to avoid watching a TV programme with the title of "Angry Britain" but felt compelled to watch it nevertheless.
It was a revelation not so much about the petty situations whereby we find ourselves in conflict with our neighbours and fellow citizens but more for the very poor quality of swearing and profanity that comes out of our mouths.
The commonplace obscenities of the F, C and B words are all too easy to bawl and shout but do lack imagination, meaning and also an essential element of humour that could actually help to diffuse a potentially inflammatory series of events.
We seem to have lost the art of being tactfully and skillfully rude.
I have therefore sought to re-introduce ten top insults from yesteryear which must return to our everyday vocabulary before they are lost forever and we have nothing left but to resort to fisticuffs and general violent behaviour.
These are, in no particular order of application, as follows;
1) Nincompoop. As in, you are a complete idiot. This was regularly in earshot when I was but a nipper and actually sounded both insulting and exciting. Its derivation is thought to be as a shortened form of "non compos mentis" or not of sound mind. It will have been sidelined in this politically correct and sanitised society that we now find ourselves to be simultaneously applauding and finding extreme frustration with.
2) Wazzock. The comedian Tony Capstick in the context of the then 1980's managed to put this word into the meaningful sentence of "You great useless spawny eyed parrot faced wazzock". It has multiple relevance but in today's sensitive environment can upset quite a cross section of the population in one go. It's origins are a matter of great debate from meaning a bulls penis to the urination practices of a Northerner and a straining cloth to the marriage of the words wanker and pillock.
3) Codswallop. One of my "old school" teachers at one of my old schools was quick to use this word when presented with substandard classroom or home produced coursework. Again it has a few claims to its origins. The obvious mention of a species of fish suggests something a bit nasty and smelly but the popular myth is linked to a brand of soft drink by a manufacturer called Codd. The vociferous sect of beer drinkers derided the availabilty of a soft drink by calling it Codds Wallop, the latter meaning beer. It is also connected to a wooden device used to dislodge the glass marble stopper from an old fashioned drinks bottle.
4) Lummox. I was reminded of this very evocative insult when a member of a radio panel show mentioned it as their favourite word. Put together as in "You steaming great lummox" I can see its attraction in a conflict scenario. It is thought to be derived from lumbering ox which is self explanatory to describe a ponderous, clumsy and rather dim person.
5) Bulls Pizzle. You need not go further than the great Shakespeare to see the value of a hard hitting profanity. In Henry the 4th, Part One the dialogue reads "away you starvelling, you elf skin, you dried neat's tongue, bulls pizzle, you stock fish". Of course, if I were in a situation where this sentence would be an ultimate put-down to an assailant or complainant I would struggle to remember it word for word. Bulls Pizzle would do just fine or in fact any of the others.
6) Ninny. This is a shortened form of nincompoop (see above at 1) but has a degree of affection in its tone and delivery. I can see it being quite useful in a situation where close family or good friends are involved and although some chiding is called for it can be in a gentler and advisory form.
7) Big Girl's blouse. This is an ideal substitute for the more inflammatory wuss, cissy and coward. It can be beyond reasonable to question someone's bravery and commitment as this often causes a violent reaction. The worst insult in this category can be making chicken sounds as this always creates bravado and machismo. Although still meaning an emasculated and weak or moaning male it is sufficiently humoured to be received without too much of a risk of an adverse outburst from the recipient.
8) Fop or Dandy. These words are heard very rarely nowadays as they are reminiscent of a bygone era of male flamboyance, affected character and large powdered wigs. Nevertheless I can see them having some relevance today when directed at an adversary who may be well groomed, coiffured, suited and booted.
9) Dunderhead. Another throwback to my schooling in the 1970's and where I was usually the target for its barbed meaning. At least the teacher was being kind on the basis that alternatives for dunderhead include Idiot,Plonker,Pillock,Klutz,Dunce,Numbskull, Blockhead, Bonehead, Lunkhead, Hammerhead, Knucklehead ,Muttonhead, Shithead and Fuckhead
and finally,
10) Fussbucket. Not such a popular name by way of insult but straight to the point in highlighting a tedious person as being able to more than fill a bucket with their fussiness and awkward tedious behaviour.
I am determined during the coming week to use one or more of the above in a unique social experiment in any potentially adversarial situation that I may find myself in.
I will report back with my findings or if you do not hear from me directly then just contact the local hospital to see what specialist ward my subsequent battle scars have qualified me for.
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