"The Sparrow has my voice"

 

I found that photo.  This was at Coate Waters, our beginning so to speak.  Paul had dressed up for me, not sure about the black shirt but as he introduced me to this part of the world he had grown up in I began to know the person he was.  He had moved here when young, to a place just outside Swindon Old Town.  We went to the Richard Jeffries museum which is near Coate Water and though I had never read any of Jeffries books, I now own three.  He is my first nature writer I would go to for his extraordinary descriptions of nature at that time.  His ability to bring in  his childhood into the magic of being a child is a powerful message.  I would almost say that Jeffries is a lost author who needs discovering again.  Bevis

The following video charters the creative element that a museum can bring to children and grown up people alike.

This morning someone had put a poem on F/B addressing the sad death of Anne Widecombe, a political figure who had strong views.  The poem is for us and is another rendition of 'My England' as seen through different eyes.

You Do Not Speak For Me - Harry Gallagher

You do not speak for me.

The sparrow has my voice,

busying between hedgerows,

English as a cloudy day,

no matter what you

or your henchmen say. .

That oldman and his dog,

out at dawn beachcombing,

letting the morning tickle

his mouth up at the edges,

his gait carries my weight

as he lightens the day.

The wildflowers on verges,

reaching for something

they can never quite touch,

but stretching all the same,

smudging their glories

allover the mundane.

These Saturday kids,

smiling through braces,

serving ice creams on days

when ‘hot’ doesn’t cut it,

learning that patience is

waiting for sainted grandmas

to choose between

sprinkles or flake.

The policeman, the plumber,

the teacher, roadsweeper,

prampushing mums,

gleaming proud dads,

the Sunday funrunners

replenishing the sweat

with a pint of English best

after winning their bet.

That lifesaver doctor,

last hour of her shift

who hasn’t slept since

God only knows when;

as kindas kiss it betters

to the latest in a line

of confused oldladies

who all ask the same thing:

"But where were you born dear?"

and "Ooh what a lovely smile,

what lovely skin"

as she holds their hands,

asks them where it hurts.

This is my England.

Its voice is not scabrous,

it is soft.

Its fingers reach down

to pick up the fallen,

brushing them down,

to hold them aloft.

Your tone is shrill,

a study in antipathy.

You are not my England

and you do not speak for me.

Interesting times

 I have a large green arrow to use on my computer and it is not easy to use.  This because I kept losing my very small white arrow off the sides of  this large screen.  Theoretically the large arrow works but it is ugly.

This is to record by the way, the second coming of Nigel Farage.(Note, he has come back before though) After his speech this afternoon.  As a piece of political news it will be interesting to see where his resignation as an MP and  then to stand in a byelection again  leads him. IT is his hope  that the people of Clacton will re-elect him.  Farage gave a speech full of hurt anger and also fury that he has been targeted by the press in a particularly horrible way.  Well for someone who has courted publicity and has  dominated the news forever that is a little over the top!

Weirdly it was the Sunday Times article that brought Farage down and to the podium, Andrew said it is because Murdoch had pulled the support off of the heavyweights behind Farage........I bet there will be a bit of suing there'  As Trump's regime falters in America so Farage's bright star is also falling.  Thank the heavens for that.

Below is my list I am keeping for posterity sake this week.  Jonathon Freedland, Tom Harris, Simon Tisdall and also Simon Jenkins are the four journalists I turn to every week.  I expect they will write articles even more interesting next weekend ;) 

Recent Prints - Colin Blanchard 

The immorality of world leaders is contagious. Thank heavens for the pope | Simon Tisdall | The Guardian

I’ve seen what the death of major industry did to Britain. Without a good revival plan, Burnham cannot succeed | John Harris | The Guardian

I used to revere the great experiment that is the United States. After Trump, I’m not so sure | Jonathan Freedland | The Guardian

Prints by Colin Blanchard.  Why? I have two of his hare prints, could it be I was looking for a poem he had sent with the prints.  Paul's son has just produced another fine painting as well.

4th July 2025

Family matters.  They have all gone their separate ways by 8.30 this morning.  Andrew to walk 20ish (there and back) miles  up to Haworth, Bronte landscape.  Lillie to go and count in the walkers in and out on the Boundary Walk.  And then my daughter who is rejoicing that there will be no replacement buses into Manchester from Rochdale when she goes to work this morning. The trains are once more working that stretch.

At 7-o-clock Lillie came into my bedroom to show off her new shoes, a belated birthday present from her father. Adidas bought at Liberty's no less,  they are pretty with the pattern on the front.  She was already dressed for scouts. Yesterday afternoon she had baked cakes and biscuits to be sold for the scouts.  She is a teller? recording the walkers going and coming back.  Obviously there is going to be a discrepancy in the number as there will be dropouts and people who couldn't make it but I am sure the mountain rescue people will be around to stretcher anyone down.

As an aside, a bit of news yesterday, was the mountain rescue people who had had to bring down a Saint Bernard dog from a walk, who just lay down and refused to walk down with his people.

Boundary walks are an old custom where you walk round the parish of the town.  The Todmorden walk, 22 miles, goes round Calderdale Way and the  Pennine Way, the walk traces an ancient or earlier boundary.  Sometimes you can Beat the Boundary which entails touching along the walk in different places with a branch, or beating them.

I have already told Andrew to take plenty of food and water, and he has also arranged for pizzas tonight, so we shouldn't starve if he doesn't get back.  He is very good at getting out of his day to cook but always produces a takeaway ;)

Pilgrimage - June 2024

This is my England.  I don't expect you to watch this two and a half hours video, it is recorded on my blog for myself.  A delicious reminder of what I have lost by getting old, and no I am not sad for I have so many memories to look back on.

This is the chalk downs of Berkshire and Wiltshire, along which runs The Ridgeway track, a white path because it followed the dry chalk ground.  Littered with prehistoric barrows, hillforts and megaliths.  I know these people that now lovingly and foolishly go to worship in their own pagan ways the solstices at Avebury, they are my tribe.

I am not a pagan by the way, sensibility makes me scorn religion, but I love the involvement that is given to our far away ancestors.  If you were to attend the solstice festival at the stones of Avebury, you would find a fire with light flicking dancers, young and old as well for the stones remember us all.

Along this trackway you will meet old grey men convinced that ley lines run through England like veins, read The Old Straight Track by Alfred Watkins, he started this. Than there is this discipline, the study of the stars, moon and sun, Archeoastronomy the study of ancient sky cultures,  Also quite intensively written about, and at the Red Lion* at Avebury, the meeting place of all good megalithic people you will hear discussions about it.  It is a difficult subject to grasp;), especially as the Earth seems to have moved a bit and the stars are  a bit out of alignment today.

The Ridgeway takes you through beautiful farmed landscapes, little villages all along the way and then you reach Liddington Castle (it is not a castle but an I/A hill fort) and then Swindon town smacks you in the face, reality is crossing motorways.

Romans, Anglo-Saxons, Viking, and Danes have walked along this trackway, their bones part of the soil as they fought their way into this country.  It is a place full of myths and barrows that if you enter, you come to a beautiful place  and will be able to wine and dance in meadows. BUT when you are released by the fairies you will find everyone you knew has grown old, though you thought you had only spent a day in this fairy land.

Or stop at Wayland Smithy, the most evocative of long barrows surrounded by the trees and capture the magic. And maybe if you are riding a horse, well tie him up there leave a coin and when you come back next morning Wayland the smithy - a Norse smithy god, will have shod him for you and taken the coin in payment.

Wayland Smithy in Autumn

This article in the Guardian  asks the question 'What does it mean to be English' The short video covers football, I know some will  be interested in that.

Can the truth told by a cat be true?

 Well can things also sometimes get better?  The following video of the redemption of  a Scottish 'dead' valley would give some encouragement.   Quietly taking it in hand a group of volunteers raised £400,000 pounds and bought the land.  Firstly they had to evict the sheep and feral goats and a fence was built round the perimeter as a discouragement to deer.  Carrifarn Valley had one tree growing, a Rowan tree.  It grew because the seed, probably dropped by a bird, had lodged in a big rock.

It is funny how people love trees and will fight for their preservation, I think it is because, firstly they can be beautiful and grand, but that also we feel grief for the way the landscape is torn apart by humans.  They are part of our everyday vision, destroying something familiar shocks the soul into action.

What was funny though I took this video off my tablet and right next to it was a video with the picture of Rees-Mogg, saying in his pompous voice, 'Well do you want rainforests or destroyers'  I know what most people would have replied to him, we still love the land more than defence, but thinking about that and you see a conundrum, do you need defence to protect the rainforests?

Note the Scottish flag displayed prominently, another small country of what was once called Great Britain is trying to escape Westminster.  Funnily enough I don't see the Yorkshire flag in this part of the county, it was far more visible in North Yorkshire.  Not that I am a fan of flags having seen the St. George's flag so horribly abused by aggression.

and one more video for those who like the foolishness of life - Larry the cat, and we all know where he lives.  It is a good factual account of No.10's door. It is steel for a start and something I didn't notice, but know now, it has no handle and obviously no cat flap for Larry who expects his lackeys to let him in and out.

A small feeling of exultation ;)

No.10 North: Well there is a challenge ;) ;) It was a good speech but I know many who read this blog will be upset. Apologies for that!  Andy Burnham hasn't even been elected yet as the new Prime Minister ( many a slip between cup and lip) But let us take it for granted.  I expect a lot of what he promises will take years to happen but he goes down to grass roots and that is where the Westminster gang have never been.  Well perhaps except Sir Michael  Heseltine, who also spoke out for the Northern scene.  The link plays his speech which is about 16 minutes long.

I have just heard someone on the radio saying that the bond market will not be upset from this latest news.  The talk is of change and putting the money back into  people's bank account and allowing the economy of the country to be worked by us, the ordinary people.

You think it can't happen but look at how Todmorden works, local people gardening all the areas that stand as  an empty space, a community college for local activities; money being spent, we had £16 million from the government and there is a lot of noise going on in the square not 50 yards with refurbishment from where we live.  Work means wages.

Yes there was endless discussion of how it would be spent, there are naysayers, miserable sods and moaners who quibbled - but it is getting done!  The truth is simple, governments govern for the people and this country .

London is a marvellous place but they just see things differently to people 'Up North'  Everyone in London you pass in the street is a stranger.  It's attraction for wealth has knocked out two classes, the lower and middle class (I hate class),  From what I have heard on podcasts the young of this country are also fed up with a system that takes from the students £70,000 odd to be paid off over their working age.  Mortgages! would add another large bill to a wage, not too mention,  the outlandish expensive housing they have to have  if they want a family.

 So I am happy, perhaps change will benefit us all.

28th June 2026 - Paul Harrison's V

At a poet’s memorial, I saw how Andy Burnham could be a different kind of prime minister | Blake Morrison | The Guardian

Talking about poetry, a form of words in which we express our thoughts. 

 I came across the above article this morning it is about Andy Burnham and the fact that he took an English degree at Cambridge.  What first drew my eye is that he had attended a memorial service for the poet Tony Harrison.  The service had been held at Salt Mills, somehow, Salt Mills figures strongly in my mind it is like an enormous cathedral of learning with its books, paintings and quiet roughness.

Blake Morrison predicted that we might have a different angle on what this country needed when, and if, Burnham takes the leadership.  As someone who has been round words and poetry for a greater part of my life but does not have an English degree, a smidgeon of hope sprang in my optimistic soul.

I have collected poetry for many years, Paul also collected, you can see it on my side bar - Megalithic Poems.  also for 'The Modern Antiquarian' he had an enormous amount of poems on a thread which ran for years.

Let us take a few quotes from the article, firstly starting with Scargill, a good name to groan about I think;) I can already hear them!

"My father still reads the dictionary every day, He says your life depends on how you master words" 

Morrison"That an English degree would foster broad-mindedness and empathy"

Benjamin Disraeli - "When I want to read a novel, I write one"  Ouch, a bit to over-confident there.

"The unending violence of THEM and US"

I would put the point that people who read poetry know  more about the society around them and it is in their writing of the poem which teaches us about the social mores that society throws up.

My probable most favourite poem is one by Edward Thomas - It begins with At Hawthorn Time.  It brings tears to my eyes of that mythical, beautiful countryside we live in.  Thomas wrote in the time when war  changed everything.  We are in the middle of change at the moment, battling against ignorance and greed and that is what Burnham faces.  Keeping up all those balls in the air won't be easy.

So what was the poem that somehow shaped the trajectory of history and Paul Harrison wrote, it is called 'V' and is almost a book in itself.  Also, lots of swearwords, so don't read it if easily offended.   V 

And should you be on Instagram The Dancing Teacup man

Divine intervention

 

Thor with his hammer, Norse god of storms

The gods were definitely furious last night. A humdinger of a storm raged over Tod this morning.  Crashing thunder and lightening strikes.  I couldn't remember whether you could put the lights on, definitely not the computer.  It has calmed down, the skies, dark now, opened up to a heavy fast rain, cleaning the air.

The two earthquakes in Venezuela are so much worse. tectonic plates moving together brought down tall blocks of flats, towns reduced to a heap of rubble, people scrambling through the wreckage trying to find loved ones. A natural occurrence with a devastating effect.

Other news,  Swifts are loyal to place of nesting less loyal to partners.  There has been a terrible decline of these birds since 1995 due to roofs being restored and contract builders tearing down old buildings.  The new 'law' which states that every new house should have a 'swift brick' is a start, but of course not always followed.

Going to a podcast I listen to yesterday, Novaro Media, the presenter was apologising for the room he was talking out of.  Apparently, don't laugh, but the expensive computer ware they had installed in their new office, could not be used because of a temperature restriction,  it could not go above 25 degrees.  So think twice before investing in AI stocks, nature is stronger in tooth and claw, then the foolishness of investors who chase every pound ;(

Sam our cleaner is coming this morning, but Andrew, very sweetly said to her that she need only work for a couple of hours in the rooms upstairs, but she will be paid for her whole time.  Our kitchen is far too warm, and Lillie occupies the sitting room. 

William Holt

 

I have watched a funny little video about an eccentric who lived in Todmorden.  This was William Holt (1897 to 1977) writer and painter.  The part of his story that fascinated me was his trip to Europe with his horse, Trigger.

He had saved Trigger from the slaughter house, the animal was an ex rag and bone horse.  There is a lovely old, already faint with age, video on Vimeo made in 1969 of the pair.  William goes up to the moor where Trigger is free roaming and blows on a trumpet.  There is a joyful neigh and Trigger comes galloping down the hill to his master.  They both had a strong bond to each other, you can see it in the above photo.  Holt reckoned they travelled over 20,000 miles together.

What also  caught my attention was the mention of Wirlaw, which is a large mound that sits above Todmorden, you could almost describe it as a hill.  I had often seen this mound as i packed my shopping bag at Lidl.

Taken from Town council photos

I used to think that it was like some of the discarded 'hills' of coal you see in Wales but it is probably some form of geological formation.

Well somewhere up there is the carved Wizard of Wirlaw, carved late 20th century by Mike Williams and taken from William Holts book on the Wizard of Wirlaw written in 1959.  It looks like an Easter Island figure, but I think that is the nature of the stone.

The Wizard of Wirhal - Taken from Geograph - Stephen Craven

The last part of the story.  Not sure where William (Billy) Holt is buried but Trigger is buried on the side of the hill with his own gravestone.

Trigger's photo found on Geograph - John Illingsworth.

And that is how myths are made!

William Holt

24th June 2026

Burnham:  Well he rode in on his charger (the train) into town with a few of his loyal followers.  Gosh how the journalists worshipped him,  like frenzied piranha they fell on him.  Here was fresh meat news ready to be torn apart in the future.   Marina Hyde writes of the whole show that in all the hullaballoo the terrible train crash on Friday was quietly forgotten.  One driver dead,  and 53 people remaining in hospital, eight of which are seriously injured  The photo that accompanies the article shows people working to help, this is how society should be seen, please journalists, not the latest scoop of nothingness.

The trains are also feeling the heat, many trains have been taken out of service here, probably about half.  My daughter (who always tells entertaining tales about Manchester) sat on a train to come home but the train was full to the hilt and rail staff were going along asking people to get off so that the train could move.  She decided to get off, probably because of the young man sat next to her was smelling strongly of 'weed'.   He had also broken off with his girlfriend and lamented very verbally about it.  Karen got off the train but  she looked back to see if anyone had taken her seat but no it was empty.  She does what she always does and goes and gets a meal and waits till later to catch a less full train home.

To return to Burnham, I sincerely hope he does make a difference, we are in for a good 'left' solution and at least he has some experience of running a metropolis.  As a note, I almost got run over by one of his trams, they are silent!  Also I hope Ed Milliband gets to be chancellor, we need more green action on the ground, as this heat wave shows.  Will some people please take their heads out of the sand and start recognising we are in trouble as far as Climate Change is happening.

And yes I note how much high regard Milliband gets from his critics, after all who can forget the Edstone, we couldn't because we lived not far from the village of Edstone but for a moment just enjoy the beauty of Yorkshire for a minute and then remember that politics are like a river, it just floats by.

Silent Earth

We have been there before

 

Dickens's sentence in full reads, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way . Taken from Rebecca Solnit's - Winners and Losers: A Hell of a Week in the Us of A    💖💗💗 Been rather messy in Britain as well.....😎  There is a little girl outside yelling her head off about going to school.  Life is just miserable sometimes. Take this rose bush for instance it is called 'Jam and Jerusalem', someone nursed this hybrid into life, probably over years, but then a few years on it developed, for me, the most terrible case of black spot on the leaves and slowly died.  Historically significant for me but not for you.

Elmet

I am pottering as usual

I have always been intrigued by the period after the Romans and before 1066 AD, often called the 'dark ages', only dark of course because we have no information on them,  and especially about the small kingdom of Elmet. The vale of Caldervale is also part of Elmet..  But as you can see on the map probably Roman Eburacum, or York as it is now known, would have been in ruins. Also on the map you can see the first Roman wall called Antonine Wall built against the Picts was soon to be superseded by Hadrian's Wall and that is why the 'practise camps' written about earlier is of interest.

Ted Hughes was born in the town of Mytholmroyd which lies in the valley of the Caldervale (I have as much problem spelling that word as I do saying it) and which probably gives him the right to call one of his books - Remains of Elmet, but obviously this small Brythonic kingdom got subsumed into its larger neighbours of Mercia and I think Bernicia and became part of Northumbria.

This book is somewhat dark in word and photography.  Bleak is of course the word to use of Fay Godwin's black and white photos, they strike sombre notes in one's soul.  Ted  Hughes words even more so.  You can see why such mournful fiction as the Bronte's writings would stem from these cruel landscapes, Jane Eyre especially.  So Ted Hughes captured the mood of the moors, with the despairing lives lived out in a poor farming landscape.

I have always loved Pike and  Thought Fox.  The poem Pike of course because I fished as a child, sitting by the river's edge watching the lazy movement of trout.  Water has that power to lure you into it's depths.  In the shallows it rippled over the stones.

But that reminds me of the following You tube video of Japanese Gardens in Kyoto.  It is the most restful video to watch.  A classic Japanese garden has no need of flowers, it rests on moss, stone, water and greenery.  Trees and shrubs are shaped for harmony and also for a quietness for meditation.  I am not sure you lose yourself in 'nothingness' but the meeting with nature must surely calm the self.  I found the link on Bensozia's blog, for which I thank him.

20th June 2026

 I have noticed a slight scornful note when Andy Burnham is mentioned as 'King of the North'.  We are of course plagued by London based journalists, who sadly have only a sneering attitude when they talk politics.  Also, there is this awful social media where everyone can come and take a swipe.

I  only know that Burnham has done a good job as Mayor of Manchester, he has a slick appeal, and I reckon the North sending him to London to play for the big time is sticking their finger up to London;) You will all no doubt agree that the Labour Party has fallen away from its roots, lets see what Burnham can do.

Lillie came back yesterday for the summer hols, though she is off once more on a Scout's camping trip this weekend.  She said it was so good to be back in Todmorden, people in the street actually smiled at you, so different to London.

There was a false King once in Yorkshire, called David Hartley and his gang, and in 18th century Yorkshire  the criminal act of coin-clipping took place as the mechanised looms and mills came in, forcing people out of earning money at home.  Clipping coins  became quite serious and the value of the pound devalued because of it, so Hartley and his henchman were hunted down and hung.

You can just imagine how it was the remote farms, now ruined, were ideal places for the clipping to take place and it flourished, though not for long.

I have written about Hartley, he is buried in the churchyard at Heptonstall, as is his wife.  There was an element of Robin Hood about Hartley, he stole to help the poor.  Something to think on!

Palindrome Day

Clipping Coins

Clipped and Counterfeited

Midsummer this weekend, how has it come round so quick.

Painter -Atkinson Grimshaw

 John Atkinson Grimshaw - 1836 to 1893

Reflections on the Thames - John Atkinson Grimshaw

I came across this painter a few months ago and was bowled over by his use of light.  Even more intrigued by the fact that he came from Leeds.  He had a humble beginning, as many painters do.  His family were from the Baptist sect and his mother did not like him painting, turning off the gas in his room for a start.  It reminded me of another Northern painter. L. S. Lowry, his mother told him to burn his paintings.  Probably all down to prudishness and the fear of naked bodies.

What had suddenly struck me about Grimshaw was his nocturnal paintings especially about the park in Leeds reminding me of my own childhood, walking back in winter after school, and the lights picking up the puddles in the road.  Grimshaw had captured exactly the mood of the moment - the feeling of emptiness. 

James Abbot Mckneill Whistler said of Grimshaw - I considered myself the inventor of Nocturnes until I saw Grimmy's moonlight pictures.  I never knew Whistler was an American, the two shared a studio at one stage.

Moonlit scene near Leeds - John Atkinson Grimshaw

Grimshaw came from Leeds and his paintings rested on a method of projecting a scene onto a surface.  It was called camera obscura. Grimshaw was self-taught, his draughtmanship failed as did his understanding of perspective but this method did not appeal to the critics of the time, I suppose they saw it as 'cheating' but his use of colour, lighting and shadow put him in another category altogether.

Also of course he painted scenes round Whitby which are also very evocative, a town dear to my heart, just for its general messiness and crowded streets of holidaymakers.  Though in this instance I have chosen his Shipping on the Clyde.

Shipping on the Clyde

Always click on the photo snaps because for some reason they become more distinct framed by black!

I am enjoying the book on his life, Andrew bought it recently, his family are also part of the Leeds scene and funnily enough the name Grimshaw came up on one of my friends on F/B.  It was Lillie's friend, so perhaps I shall investigate the name ;)

16th June 2026

 Just come back from the doctors, my first visit in the last several years that I have seen one locally.  Well I passed muster with flying colours, well almost. At the moment I am haunted by the little shuffling old man saying 'bloody computers, bloody computers'.  When he was told at the reception desk that he had to book an appointment online.  Yes there is that big yawning chasm between those that do and those that don't.  Of course he was directed to the other side of the desk so that the appointment could be made. 

It is good to see of course that the computer giants are being brought to heel about the effect social media has on our young people.  Not all young people of course but there is a worrying trend with false information posted online and the agitators stirring things up.  It would be good that a 'truth verification' app followed us all around  and quibbled when we did something wrong.

AI is already beginning to show its bad side, where are the philosophers for a start ready to add to the 'facts' we are shown as gospel truth.  Has the internet become a 'tower of Babel'?  Everyone must have 'free speech' no matter how their thinking goes.  We must rely on education for the most of us.

How badly it can go wrong has manifested itself in the sweep to the right of authoritarian discussions or happenings on the street and in the thinking.  We see it in this country when bullies such as Farage makes a play for power and gather large crowds who want to go back to an England that never really existed.

It is probably the fault of the internet and its wide influence over the world that we are experiencing this rift in cool commonsense action and it is another battle to be fought for sanity.  In the end seven (or eight) billion people on this Earth can't really call their own views on the matter, it has to be by meetings and talking together that will resolve the matter.

So a rose to meditate on and perhaps a drink to remind us that humans can gather together in a convivial manner and discuss such things. 

David Hockney

 Talk is of the death of David Hockney.  A shock to many of us.  We are privileged that a certain Jonathon Silver had bought the great Salt Mill at Saltaire and following his friendship with Hockney had set up a permanent exhibition of his work.  I can't transfer the words of old blogs without having red backgrounds to this post but this link will give you some explanation.  

Hockney made a great impression on me, but so did the enormous mill, go up to the top empty space and think of riding a bike round.  The mill could not turn itself into a spectacular modern mall its charm was elsewhere.  The heavy industrial history lay heavy on it flagged stone floors.  My daughter loved it for the cakes we would order in the restaurant, Andrew had lived in Shipley and it was part of his home ground.  A trip to Salt Mill will give you some photos, albeit rather dark, but still.  I hope his work there is a permanent record and that it belongs to this part of the country, though the paintings we saw were of France.

Thinking about it I have probably also written of Sir Titus Salt (there is a name to wonder about).  A visionary maybe, for he built Saltaire for his workers.  Also although we no longer hear from Tasker sadly, a relative in his family was one of the architects of Titus Salt's buildings.

These references I note are for family by the way.  Suddenly I find that I can find anything on my blog and it becomes a diary.

North Stoke: Salts Mill

Cathedral of Industry

One Bag of Peruvian Wool

North Stoke: 25th August 2025

Roman York

Emperor Constantine the Great. Reigned from 306 till his death in 337 

Well I mentioned in the blog on Roman practice camps at Cawthorn a couple of days ago, that the Roman soldiers were probably settled at Malton which was a few miles from York/Eboracum..  York was the Roman headquarters here in the North, and the father of the above (to be) emperor was killed fighting in the city and the army immediately called for Constantine to be made emperor which he duly was.  He looks a handsome fella in his recently made statue in York.  He ruled for a long time and became a Christian but lived the life of an Emperor fighting all over the continent.

My interest lies in the fact that he became St. Constantine and has become the object of a plea for an Antiochian Orthodox community to have their own church in York. So when 'The Abbey of Misrule' email came through with the funding plea, I watched the following video with great interest.  Not only for the beautiful portrayal of York but for the lesson in religious worship of the group.

The group was sincere and also simple, and when my non religious hackles rise up, it is time to question my feeling towards religious worship.  Here though I loved the nobility of the need for a church, a rather disused but beautiful one seemed to be the one chosen.  They do have a chapel in I think the university but it is temporary and the  wooden framing for the altar all has to be removed and stored elsewhere.  So a record of an unusual group worshipping in York.

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Sad news today.  David Hockney has died at the age of 88 years old.  His paintings were often to be found at Salt Mill, Saltaire.  The long empty workrooms ideal for his successional paintings.  I have written about him a couple of times.

11th June 2026

Just puts the giggle into the day

Start at any year.  So I started at 2012, and as you know we start at the end of the year in cold December on our blogs.  So the first thing I notice is that I am  talking about things  about to happen in 2013.  There is a trip to Germany to take back some Japanese scrolls to a museum in the town of Bietigheim-Bissingen to the Hochdorf Museum.  We were welcomed royally, the mayor proudly took us round his town, the curator of the museum looked after us, a first and pleasant visit to Germany.  There was also our friends from America, Bucky and Loie, who were coming over and we were going to see some of the sites in England, Sutton Hoo being one of them and then of course Wales.

Bucky and Loie at Pentre Ifan

But that is to look forward and I had to go backwards through the blogs.  We had been down to Whitby to see my family and I note we two stayed at my little cottage, which I miss so much still.  It must have been refurbished by then from the rather drab state I had bought it in.  A tartan fitted carpet downstairs that had given me such a shock;) and a bathroom that definitely needed a new bath suite.  Settling in.  Of course it was totally unsuitable for large parties of my family, as the children squashed on the floor but it was only for a few hours in the day.

Tiny but perfect 

And I am sure this memory of family will be interesting to the family, it is obviously around bonfire night when the family came down to Chelmsford for a couple of nights to go shopping in London.  Meetings.  Tom still uses the photo of Lillie and him taken by me.

  

9th June 2026

 

I ventured out this morning to Lidl as it is my turn to cook. Early morning sun made the yellow of the petals of the Yellow Welsh Poppy - Meconopsis Cambrica translucent on a plant atop a wall.  Such a clear bright colour this little wild plant gives to a garden, disrupting any formal layout of plants, it just jumps in and announces its presence.  And it is not even Welsh, it is a native of the Himalayas.  Robinson says of it is that is a determined colonist but is a cheerful plant for the wild garden or on a dry surface beneath a wall.  According to the info on the net.

Carl Linnaeus named it Papaver Cambrica in 1753. it was later separated from it's type genus by Louis Vigier in 1814 and transferred to the Meconopsis genera.  But in 2011 a study proved that Linnaeus was right in his naming.  At this stage I will shut up because a whole taxonomy had to be altered;)

The Town Plan 

Proposed alteration of Bramsche Square.  Architect's drawing

I passed the building works of the theatre. they have apparently fitted a great glass window in the front.  Building works are everywhere (the weather is warm).  Our Bramsche car park part of the Town Plan and green area around the little named 'Pollination Street' is abuzz with noise, backing noises, crashing noises, I hope the trees will survive.  Of course there has been a big to do about the ransacking of the car park for space for people to sit round in.  But the inside market and the outside market will all have money spent on them to brighten up the place.

Sunday

 Stonehenge Headline  Mike Pitts of British Archaeology magazine in questioning mood.  Probably the only person I would trust to say anything sensible about Stonehenge, marvelling at the latest story of the movement of the Altar Stone from Scotland.  Yes it could be a glacial movement but sort of via Doggerland.  Doggerland for those who do not know  where it is now, it is that patch of land that once joined us to Europe in the North Sea. 

 

"He finds the glacier scenario more “plausible”: “these findings could imply that the people of Doggerland attached cultural significance to the Altar Stone … [and so saved] it from being submerged by rising sea levels at the end of the last ice age”.

A drowned landscape, which is rather exciting.  How do we know? Well fisherman trawling the bottom of the sea there have fished up prehistoric axes and arrowheads, showing that once long ago the land was settled.      Ten thousand years ago we were part of Northern Europe (my DNA tells me that by the way) and then seven thousand years ago approximately a glacier pushed through and it is what it is today.   Vincent Gaffney and co-workers explored this lost land and wrote a very complicated book on the subject, I did not understand it!  But then a Wiki will explain this lost land and of course the scientists who study it with great interest.

You will note that Pitts is just a tad offensive about newspaper headlines - aren't we all of course. The journalists leap on any piece of news, tear it apart without understanding, headline a few facts again without  understanding them, and then off we go on their ignorance .

Well there is, in the Private Eye magazine a funny set of Breaking News by Mail Online, a couple for your delectation.....

Video Exclusive: Woman, 24, in cropped t-shirt and skintight shorts leaves VERY little to the imagination as she tragically plunges to her death.

Friends fear Meghan not to be trusted with kitchen knife

Starmer denies mainlining heroin with Rachel Reeves in urine-infested Downing Street.

This is a favourite. 

 Dan Hodges.  Day after day, people are dropping dead from old age.  Why is Starmer doing nothing about it?

Well when England finally kicks the bucket (it won't) we shall be glad of Ian Hislop and his team of erudite journalists ploughing through the latest scandal, and missing being sued by an inch.  Speak up, speak out ;)

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Drifting

Well, I am not well;) so I am curtailing my use of this computer for a time.  Though it takes me to the marvels of the world, I think it is playing havoc with my eyes.  Lying in bed this morning idling on the tablet through an old blog of mine, - Poems, Paintings and Photos, especially from 2008. I came across Dragons and Yews.  It was a period of my life when I fell in love with the early Saxon writings, the poetry so strong and dense, and often  strangely enough very sad, always harking after a better time.  If you click on Dragons and yews, you will find the tale of the Nicor, a terrible sea monster.  This reference had taken me back to when the family had owned two small engineering factories, and the one in the Midlands was called Nicor.  It was strange at the time coming on the meaning and though both men are long gone and dead, I often wondered why they named it as such.

Now there is another story told by Nennius (an 8th AD Welsh monk), who though his stories are often thought of as mythlike and foolish, does tell an exceedingly good tale. Dragons dreams can foretell a future event, and in one of the chapters of Nennius's book, he tells the story of a young boys dream. Nennius had access to 5th century books, and this story is about Vortigen, who had found a young boy call Ambrose, the boy had a dream in which he saw a tent at the bottom of a pool, in this tent slept two dragons , a red one and a green one. They woke up and fought, and the red dragon who represented the Saxons overcame the green dragon who represented the British, the tale in its full version from Nennius is told here.....

"a pool; come and dig:" they did so, and found the pool. "Now," continued he, "tell me what is in it;" but they were ashamed, and made no reply. "I," said the boy, "can discover it to you: there are two vases in the pool;" they examined, and found it so: continuing his questions," What is in the vases?" they were silent: "there is a tent in them," said the boy; "separate them, and you shall find it so;" this being done by the king's command, there was found in them a folded tent. The boy, going on with his questions, asked the wise men what was in it? But they not knowing what to reply, "There are," said he, "two serpents, one white and the other red; unfold the tent;" they obeyed, and two sleeping serpents were discovered; "consider attentively," said the boy, "what they are doing." The serpents began to struggle with each other; and the white one, raising himself up, threw down the other into the middle of the tent, and sometimes drove him to the edge of it; and this was repeated thrice. At length the red one, apparently the weaker of the two, recovering his strength, expelled the white one from the tent; and the latter being pursued through the pool by the red one, disappeared. Then the boy, asking the wise men what was signified by this wonderful omen, and they expressing their ignorance, he said to the king, "I will now unfold to you the meaning of this mystery. The pool is the emblem of this world, and the tent that of your kingdom: the two serpents are two dragons; the red serpent is your dragon, but the white serpent is the dragon of the people who occupy several provinces and districts of Britain, even almost from sea to sea: at length, however, our people shall rise and drive away the Saxon race from beyond the sea, whence they originally came....

The old yew in Pewsey Valley.  It has an incredibly beautiful inner wood, though torn with old age it has a special beauty.