A mess?

It’s all a bloody great mess, isn’t it? Politics doesn’t know  where it’s going or where. May is keeping her actions under wraps (and who can blame her?), and the opposition such as it is, is demanding redress on her capability to answer their questions. All a bloody great mess.

You may well be thinking, that the Prime Minister should answer in detail what her negotiating standards are, well, would you answer this if you buying a house for example?

The answer has to be no.

The media and and commentary in particular, has to be assigned some of the blame for this. Personally, I can’t see the PM knowing precisely zero about the upcoming tangle of the EU, can you?

Think about it.  

The Sun

I sat down in a chair the other day and wondered about the sky. The sky, yes I know, a bit morbid isn’t it? The point is, what faced me was a clean and pure environment. A bit poetical of me but never mind. It was untouched by a world that is going backwards – backwards to what, heavens knows. The politics, the pressure groups and those who try exert influence, were absent from the transparent mass above me. What a world we live in, some say it’s the best we’ve had, some are not so sure As I looked I thought well, the sky is the best place to be.

After all, one can remain in a state of total indifference to it.

150 Words

I was looking at the sky the other day – yes, I know I’m know I’m going on about the sky but bear with me. And all these jet steams were running about the place, holiday makers off to their dream places and such like. More fool them, I thought. I’ve done more travelling in my time than Marco Polo having a hangover on a bad day!

I thought about the cases, the airports, security and came to the conclusion, that I’m better off sitting at home and watching all these silly people make a mess of their lives – although, they might say I’m making a mess of mine, no argument there then.

Travelling. It’s a dream come true for some, but hell on earth for those who have to do it.

One place is much like another – sorry Attenborough, but there it is.  

Let’s get a bit thoughtful……

The other day, I employed two men to do the garden. It  was a right royal mess and needed some loving attention. I gave my instructions and left the men to get on with it. Purple chip stones, removing the outrageous plants etc Nothing wrong with this and I removed myself from the men as they deliberated and worked out what went where – I don’t hang around where men are working. Far too exhausting for my general well-being, if you see what I mean.

Anyway, I had been let down so many times, so I entered the house with a degree of despair, God help me when the matron returns I thought. Heaven knows what the garden will look like with these two at it with shears and shovels and God knows else.

Well now, the matron returned early evening and guess what? She was smiling and said, “Well done Julian, you’ve made an amazing job of the front lawn. Bloody amazing!”

I’d given the two boys an extra few quid to their keep their mouths, that’s if the matron caught them at it.

A little lie doesn’t do any harm when the intention is right, does it?  

War and peace

Yesterday, I went form one hospital to another and ended up late for an appointment with a lady, from the surly sands of Swansea Bay. That was a bit literate wasn’t it? I don’t blame you all for pulling faces, Ruck gets a bit like this now and again! Anyway, I was late for the hospital and late for the lady – nothing scurrilous I assure you.

Now the strange thing is, I consider unpunctuality to be a major crime where the human condition is concerned. People who fail to do a tie up properly (or bow tie) or curlers that won’t go in, are a no-go area – makes you wonder why I put up with the wife doesn’t it? Come to think of it, does anyone use curlers anymore? Anyway, waiting for a woman is a frustrating business, it drives me mad. “I’m doing my hair” or “I’m deciding which shoes to wear” all contribute to a disgruntled Julian (among many others I hasten to add).

I sit there in the hall way and say, “That’s all right dear, take your time. We only have 10 minutes before the train goes.”

You see what I mean?

There’s another one – make up. Now I’m fairly lucky here, my wife doesn’t wear much but when she does it’s all over the place. Lipstick here, there and everywhere. Can’t complain much though she’s a beauty for all that, despite age adding a wrinkle or two! But the smile gets better with the onrush of time and funnily enough, more enchanting.

 

Tattoos. Now here’s a one to get all you oldies going. Personally, and I say personally, I can’t understand why one wishes to imprint sculptures on one’s own body? Take my body for instance. There’s more scars on it than a desultory whale waiting to be carved up on a whaling ship – mind you on saying this, I can see a case for tattooing my torso with a surgeon’s scalpel! The point is, it’s become fashionable. Even girls are doing it. Birds and heavens know what are everywhere, so thank God I’m old and worn out – some would say!

So in ending this I have to say, what would future employers think? Not much, they probably have a load of ‘em themselves! It’s a pity one couldn’t go into the interview room and say,  “Shirts up and let’s see what you’ve got!”

 

I was watching a bird singing at the back of my house. It was early and he was just about to start looking for some grub. There was no noise coming from anywhere, I live in a rural location, so peace and quiet is the order of the day. I watched him tweet a little bit and his head seemed to curl around in impossible directions – reminded me of boozed up days in some accommodating gutter but that can wait for now (the Editor would never the print the stuff!).

He reminded me of what it’s like to be ignorant of all that surrounded him. The wars, the peace and the general intemperance. I watched him fly off and thought, good on you little bird, just watch out for the nasty soul flying above you. He might you just soar down and eat you for his breakfasts.

Aleppo immediately came to mind.

It’s all nonsense!

Yesterday, I went from one hospital to another and ended up late for an appointment with a lady, from the surly sands of Swansea Bay. That was a bit literate wasn’t it? I don’t blame you all for pulling faces, Ruck gets a bit like this now and again! Anyway, I was late for the hospital and late for the lady – nothing scurrilous I assure you.

Now the strange thing is, I consider unpunctuality to be a major crime where the human condition is concerned. People who fail to do a tie up properly (or bow tie) or curlers that won’t go in, are a no-go area – makes you wonder why I put up with the wife doesn’t it? Come to think of it, does anyone use curlers anymore? Anyway, waiting for a woman is a frustrating business, it drives me mad. “I’m doing my hair” or “I’m deciding which shoes to wear” all contribute to a disgruntled Julian (among many others I hasten to add).

I sit there in the hall way and say, “That’s all right dear, take your time. We only have 10 minutes before the train goes.”

You see what I mean?

There’s another one – make up. Now I’m fairly lucky here, my wife doesn’t wear much but when she does it’s all over the place. Lipstick here, there and everywhere. Can’t complain much though she’s a beauty for all that, despite age adding a wrinkle or two! But the smile gets better with the onrush of time and funnily enough, more enchanting.

150 Words

Tattoos. Now here’s a one to get all you oldies going. Personally, and I say personally, I can’t understand why one wishes to imprint sculptures on one’s own body? Take my body for instance. There’s more scars on it than a desultory whale waiting to be carved up on a whaling ship – mind you on saying this, I can see a case for tattooing my torso with a surgeon’s scalpel! The point is, it’s become fashionable. Even girls are doing it. Birds and heavens know what are everywhere, so thank God I’m old and worn out – some would say!

So in ending this I have to say, what would future employers think? Not much, they probably have a load of ‘em themselves! It’s a pity one couldn’t go into the interview room and say,  “Shirts up and let’s see what you’ve got!”

150 Words

I was watching a bird singing at the back of my house. It was early and he was just about to start looking for some grub. There was no noise coming from anywhere, I live in a rural location, so peace and quiet is the order of the day. I watched him tweet a little bit and his head seemed to curl around in impossible directions – reminded me of boozed up days in some accommodating gutter but that can wait for now (the Editor would never the print the stuff!).

He reminded me of what it’s like to be ignorant of all that surrounded him. The wars, the peace and the general intemperance. I watched him fly off and thought, good on you little bird, just watch out for the nasty soul flying above you. He might just soar down and eat you for his breakfasts.

Aleppo immediately came to mind.

Evening Post

Last weekend, I was up in West Bromwich. My wife and I left talking with each other and got out refusing to speak with each other, that’s driving for you. I used to work in West Brom, sorting somebody else’s financial traumas out. That was the day, when I was inundated with wails of bankruptcy and re-possession and had to do something about it – court, court and court! But there we are.

This time I was up there for a wedding. I hate weddings, but I went to show willing, nice chap that I am. I’ve been to a few, Sikh and Hindu and this was my first where the participants were of a white colour. Congratulation and happiness were the order of the day and everything went off to a flying start, ended up on the floor but so be it! It was good day and that’s that. Missed the bottles of whisky and Bacardi, as is the want of a Sikh marriage but you can’t have everything.

Anyway, it was good to return to a place I know so well. Not so sure about the Hotel we stayed in that’s a recent addition but everything was clean and tidy so I can’t complain. My friend booked it, I paid. That’s the usual arrangement where we are concerned. Some friend!

In the morning we went for a scuttle around the town centre. Nothing much had changed. The odd building had gone up and a scruffy coffee shop had disappeared, progress I think you would call it. I walked around looking and seeing and I came to the conclusion that in 10 odd years, nothing much had changed. There were more Asians that white, and that was fine with me. Made me wonder about Wales again, and how we are detached from the Brexit argument. I have lived in all sorts of places and I cannot understand the disquiet. Cardiff has got a few immigrants but nothing to speak of, ah well time immemorial I suppose.

Oddly enough, we ended up in a café just by the bus station. Filled with white bods talking about the exit. It was run by Asians and very polite they were too, it was the only place in the town that I spotted a white conglomerate. Not much hatred going on, they’d all just got used to the new environment. Funny that, although it’s a pity that some of us can’t see it.

It was lesson in racial harmony – sorry for using those two words – but it happens far and wide. The 3rd generation of Asians are as British as you or me, I can’t understand all the nonsense that goes on but there we are.

I’d like to bet that Theresa May is going through an equal state of confusion. Politics is in a state of unfettered don’t know this or that and we shall eventually see where it all leads us!

Time, time and time.

 

 

Evening Post

Well, that’s the Jeremy Corbyn institution seen too. Far left, and here we go. Momentum party isn’t of course, filled with Marxist and Trotskyists but there we are. One never knows with political interest. ‘Democracy’ rules and that’s ok.

“That the best candidate that they could muster to challenge Corbyn, was a former Viagra lobbyist is a reflection of the dearth of talent that exists within their ranks,” so said the Welsh Conservative spokesperson.

If Lord Neil Kinnock lasts another ten years (which is a modest age by present standards), you’ll be looking at 10 years of Labour doldrums and quarrels. I interviewed the gentleman last year and he ended things by saying, “What did you expect, I’m a bloody socialist!” In all fairness to the gentleman, he was fair and honest in his answers, not the deliberating slyness that politicians are often accused of – not that I ever have been aware of any, in all the political interviews I have done.

So what’s this Corbyn/Smith all about one may well ask? Extreme left or centre left? The infighting has concluded that Corbyn wins and Owen Smith has been knocked out. But what will this do to the Labour Party?

Annihilation or a community of spirit? Momentum has been shown to be inclusive of extreme left participants, who are driving the Labour party into extinction. Jeremy Corbyn appears to be untroubled by this, indeed it could be said that his lackadaisical attitude welcomes it. One will never know.

The extreme left of the party try to make their presence unknown, but this doesn’t really convince the voter. The party is on a left projection but be nowhere near thinking it is nothing more than an illusion to think otherwise. I don’t feel that 600 odd membership is a true ‘democratic’ vote but there we are, the word ‘democracy’ exists in the mind and nowhere else. It’s rather like ‘where are you going to get then money from’, a question that is rarely asked of any of them.

The Liberal Democrats have nowhere to go, in spite of the party trying to grab the ‘centre’ ground. Kirsty Williams has joined the Welsh Labour party so the Welsh arm is out, and little can be said about the parliamentary contingent – unless they started shouting to all in sundry what their policies exactly are? Tim Farron is the leader but will he convince voters of his courage and out and out strength?

UKIP are now led by Diane James, a woman, and I can see comparisons to our own Prime Minister not being far off. Time will tell if she a worthy opponent but the question remains? What are her policies?

All in all the opposition is a fine state and this isn’t good for our ‘democracy’. An opponent of worthy stature is needed to fight the Tories head on. At the moment there is no-one. They have nothing to fear from the opposition, indeed their must humble enemies have turned into a rag tag and bobtail mess – that’s if they don’t watch their administration of the Brexit, look out then!

There’s not one who has the gravitas to have an effect on Teresa May – more is the pity. Now, David Miliband and a disciplined Labour party?

He would cut it, wouldn’t he just!

Evening Post

You may be thinking, what on earth is going on with the Labour Government – Welsh Labour that is. Well, an awful lot it seems. I know you must get fed up with my rantings but here we go!

There is a crisis in the recruitment of GP’s, with more surgeries closing at a whip of a pen. The warnings come as new figures showing that the number of GP practices handed back to health boards is again, on the increase. What is going on?

There are some lovely counties in Wales, the standard of life is far more calming and the general the aspect of hard ‘living’ is far more generous that say, London. Is it the hard work, which some in the valleys maintain it is? Or is it Wales is just a no-go area?

I myself have been faced with a four week long appointment (this didn’t work when I spoke with a receptionist I knew), and the problem was solved instantly. Four weeks? Do they seriously think I can wait that long, with a seriously difficult body malfunction? Anyway, you get my point.

Neil McEvoy AM has said:

“This question had already raised some serious questions about the grant system in Wales. The system is already in crisis after millions has have already been lost to companies who have gone bust. But this is more serious still.”

What he was stalking about is the grant of 1 million pounds made by the Welsh government to Euro Foods Group Ltd, which in turn is owned by Shelim Hussein. Mr Hussein who owns kikd.com, who is now under investigation by the Counter Fraud and Internal Office after a number of jobs were outsourced to Bangladesh and India.

Funny that, jobs for Wales.

He said:

“I asked the First Minister in the Assembly, whether cash for Welsh ministers exists. He said it didn’t for commercial lobbyists. Yet his Labour ministers were being wined and dined by a company that was busy outsourcing jobs abroad that should have gone to people in Wales. Welsh taxpayers were essentially creating jobs in Bangladesh and India.”

These are internal problems which Welsh Labour has to sort out, one way or the other. The other difficulty for Labour is what they will do with the Corbynista trajectory – albeit, that it is the membership who is doing the voting? Fight for a hard left agenda, which in my opinion has no hope or split and devise another party? First Minister Carwyn Jones has made it abundantly clear that he would not carry on in Jeremy Corbyn’s shoes. How can one run a Labour Party where you have difficulty in forming a Cabinet and nearly all Parliamentarians are against you, that if you run on a far left policy?

Carwyn is right when he says this and shows that there might be a twinkling of a centre left policy, but will he be successful? The great democrat of the Labour Party is Corbyn, but does a few hundred thousand people compare with the millions of voters who have yet to have their say?

Regrettably, I think not.

 

Evening Post

Change. It’s been a long historical movement, through all my learning, experience and book work – mind you, all my reading has yet to find any answers. Life itself is subject to an alteration, or shall I say, a pitiful exchange of tit for tat?

No, change is definitely here and one had better look out if one doesn’t take any notice.

Take Swansea Singleton Park. The boating lake, yes I know it isn’t the Park as such but bear with me. I used to have a great fun as a child, playing on the swishy boats going to nowhere. They had oars and wood then. Leaving a friend on the island provided a laugh or two, never could find out whatever happened to him. Some Swansea shark must have eaten him for breakfast or something. Anyway, remember the Golden Mile, in Mumbles? All the pubs have turned into eating houses now, no more getting inebriated in a mile shot of drunken deliverance.

Those were the days.

Was it different or was it a figment of my imagination? Different, I’d say. Forty five years ago, times were gentler or more placid. The internet hadn’t come along and everybody talked. Young ‘uns found things to do and didn’t waste their time clicking nonsense to each other.

The television has become a trying exercise in patience (I’m not very good at it, patience that is), and for many of us it is a hopeless swapping of ideals, whatever ‘ideal’ you may have.

All in all ‘change’- whatever that means – is a good thing, a timeless event worthy of thought.

Whatever the future turns out to be, depending on your age. I’m fortunate I can think back to those days……or am I?

 

I must tell you, how extraordinary I find this plastic surgery endeavour by some in our society. ‘Extraordinary’, this is not a word I use lightly but given the extent to which some will go, I do find it mind-boggling. Outrageous lips, eyebrows that disappear, full to beyond belief breasts and bodies that have been trimmed down to almost nothing. Like I say, extraordinary.

What intrigues me more than anything else, is that why are people so malcontent with the body they born with, apart from a serious medical condition that is? Surely, an au natural skin is better than a scarred body complex and a personal anxiety?

I’ll grow old gracefully, and there is something to say for it – at least I won’t look like a disgruntled prune, which is looking for re-ripening. Mind you, I can see something in that!

Change again.

 

I was in this bar the other day. You know, all the smokers outside, the beer drinkers (not many of those) and food being pumped at the general public for all the landlord was worth. I remembered a time when I used to do bar work, a time without computerised till work and calculation was done in the head – God help you on a £20 order!

I looked around me and remembered my bar work, not as it is today. Who will pay £3 a pint when you can get similar for half the price at a local Tesco’s?

Bars are shutting, drinking holes are becoming extinct and I wonder why? Change again, in all its multifarious forms.

At a good age now, I can’t help feeling that I’ve seen a bygone era pass me by. Regrets? I have a few.