Wittering

 In my woke and green mood! I listened to a Green Party Witcher's Zoom meeting last night.  The person who leads the conversation is very good at sourcing her information but technically it took an age to get over the meeting functioning correctly.  Mostly down to her daughter's computer which decided to lose power at the beginning.

There is the space between how the wonders of computer land are sold to us and then there is the actuality of their performance when we use them.  The last meeting had been a talk about transforming your garden into being wildlife and insect friendly, this meeting was about drought.

Interestingly heat temperature has a significance on our insects, apart from killing them and we can take it as read that a certain amount of  our wildlife has died.  The badgers and hedgehogs would have had a hard time with trying to dig for worms in the dry soil, less water around in the rivers means it is much harder for the fish to survive.  Because of the heat flowers grow much quicker, and the sequential flow is too early for the pollinators and so flower misses insect.  Simply sad. 

I suspect that the fate of our wildlife does not find much sympathy in the world of humans, lack of wasps this year will be met with a certain amount of joy.  But wasps are pollinators as well.

Of course the answer is heat tolerant plants, the silver leafed plants will keep a garden filled.  Santolina, Rue, Wormwood, lavender, Southernwood  and even curry plant (though the smell is not welcome).  I wondered about Beth Chatto's garden in Essex, also a dry garden and found this online.  She lives with the driest of soil and uses gravel to create ponds of plants amongst it.

I had also been looking for the Derek Jarman's book on his garden.  Can't find Andrew's copy but is it wise to buy a second copy?  I love the cool of the white, is it Crambe Cordifolia - Sea Kale set amongst the shingle.  Jarman went wild with the Californian poppy and it also seeded itself everywhere.  I remember when new to gardening, I wanted to grow the yellow horned poppy that  only grows in a coastal environment - foolish!

Wiki photo

And last but not least - getting rid of the plain old boring lawns, which shrivel up in these hot droughty conditions. Sacrosanct, and I must admit you do need somewhere soft to sit in the garden.  Though you could head for a chamomile lawn, but forget the dogs and children if you do.

I remember when Rob came to mow our lawn in Normanby, I would tell him to mow round the bluebells, hen and egg plants and even the tiny violets.  He never minded....

Notes. Paste and copy: Insects are highly sensitive to heat, with effects ranging from increased metabolism and aggression to cellular damage and death, depending on species and environmental conditions.

Wasps: The recent summer has seen a notable scarcity of wasps in Britain, attributed to a combination of challenging meteorological conditions. The season began with warm, dry weather that typically favours queen wasps as they emerge from winter dormancy. However, this was disrupted by an abrupt shift to cold and damp conditions, nearly freezing temperatures during May evenings, which could prove fatal to queens or destroy fledgling colonies before they could become established. Additionally, multiple heatwaves struck the country, further impacting the wasp population. 

GB News

A Link

Linkinhorne Church

Why Bodmin Moor hides Cornwall's oldest secret - CornishStuff 

Today I feel so sad for the vulnerable person who has just been hounded to his death by the enormous news media, just to provide a story, that I will not even mention his name.  Shame on all of them though.  May the grace of kindness give him peace.  Death certainly has.

So. What shall I write about?  I came across the above Cornish link the other day about Bodmin Moor and the little village of Minions where we stopped for a few days.  Paul and I had even contemplated living in Cornwall at one stage but somehow there was never a place we liked and so we gave up on the idea.

The part of the moor round the village though was thoroughly washed through with prehistory and the remnants of mining.  Three stone circles in a rough line, a large barrow that had yielded the gold Rillaton Cup.  A settlement up on Stowes Pound, jaggedly cut by a much later quarry.

And best of all, part of the rock cave that Daniel Gumb inhabited with his family,  A man who carved equations into the rock, with the equal skill that he carved the gravestones in the church yard.

Such touches of history quieten the ever probing mind and force you to try and imagine what it was like to live out in these stony places.

15th August 2026

 Well I supposed we all bonded yesterday as our mobile phones set off a Red Alert across the country and our hearts went into panic mode.  No portable BBQs, garden fires or fireworks.  Sensible advice.  Though earlier in the day I had written on our local MP's Facebook account, that rather than worry about barbeques it might be a tad wise to concentrate on the wildfires, all over the world and here in our own country.  Brought on by Climate Change and for which we see little acknowledgment in this country, or at least in the government.  Defra with its many thousands of employers has only 20 people to deal with it.  

As frightened people contemplate their burnt homes in the West Midlands, only nineteen houses, but frightening enough for the owners.  I suspect that in this place of our blogs, Cloud Cuckoo Land there will be someone still defending the opening of the two oil/gas fields, Rosebank and Jackdaw not withstanding that the energy may not be used for this country but sold on elsewhere.

Arsonists will also have a role as well no one can deny that, our young can sometimes run feral and severe punishment should be contemplated, if not actually used but at least threatened.

The problem with this country is that there is plenty of clever people but that they are not employed in solving our more immediate problems.  Helped on of course by a corrupt media who just wants us to focus on the small gossip.

Calendars

Through these markings, the Coligny Calendar reveals the Gaulish vision of time as both cyclical and alive—a sacred dialogue between moon and sun, day and night, Samos and Giamos. To study and follow it is not merely to count days but to walk in rhythm with the cosmos itself.

Letting my mind wander for a moment because the advent of the eclipse made me remember The Coligny Calendar.  A Roman-Gallic depiction, and a very complicated one of how the time was measured during this time 200 CE, which translates roughly as the Iron Age.

The plaque is just under two metres long, and is made up of columns of dates, you can find the information here'  For it is very complicated with intercalary months as well.

There are always terrifying tales, told by the Romans of the sacrificing of humans and animals for auspicious dates in the calendar.  Though some historians have argued, that the Roman writers, were similar to our Daily Mail newspaper, hyping it up for spectacular news.

It is perhaps an idea to sit and think what would have the Gaulish people thought of an eclipse, the moon eating the sun and it takes you back to a whole aspect of history as to how prehistoric people viewed the stars, moon and sun. For the movement of the stars, sun and moon, were all of great concern for the growing of crops and the pasturing of animals.

It made me pull out my three books on the Celts, Barry Cunliffe, Miranda Green and of course Ann Ross's enormous book 'Pagan Celtic Britain', though strangely enough she did not cover the calendar. 

There are those that argue that the Celts did not actually exist, for it seems that they were made of a great tribe of people spread far and wide.  But it is interesting to note that in the old Irish Literature the Druids are spoken of and Roman writings speak of the fact that Druidism came from Britain.

 

13th August 2026

 I was ill yesterday with  another migraine headache.  This time a killer so my computer time is measured out, for it seems to encourage the 'aura'.

But it doesn't say I can't listen and this morning up popped some of my favourite people in Private Eye', talking about the Crewkerne Man.

You can find the man on You tube, he runs, according to himself, satirical Y/T videos, unfortunately he has a nasty tongue and is racist. He has even been in prison for his attacks on people, but it is put about that Kemi Badenoch sent him a Christmas Card - last year presumably.  Anyway she feels that he has been rehabilitated in prison, turned over a new leaf and all that and so should go for the council position he is aiming for.  Note do not let any more Reform/Restore people into councils - they dictate and close down any opposition.

What else political;) pointed out to our local politician who was singing the praises of Burnham and his Cobra meeting, that he was slightly missing the point in only banning portable BBQ actually it was the fact that there are fires all over the world and Climate Change he should be thinking of.  For instance water.  We are in a drought at the moment, what about more reservoirs and farm ponds coming under public discussion as well? And do we really need the Data Campuses of AI computers sucking all the water out of the country as well? already the protests are on the move in Torrington, Devon

I shall now watch a slow knitting video with a splash of philosophy thrown in.

I forgot. The family went up to see the eclipse.  You have to get pretty high here, so they and other people walked up to the fields by the Shepherd's Rest, a good restaurant by the way. and about two thirds up to Gaddings reservoir   And watched the eclipse from there.  There was a drummer happily drumming the occasion in, but he obviously got up the nose of someone who lived in a cottage there.  For the man yelled out for him to stop drumming and then angrily walked back to his weaver's cottage slamming the door furiously behind him and leaving his poor wife behind.  The family were disappointed with the show but on looking at some other photos it was not such a bad spectacle.  Better thenthe 1999 one which was in daylight.

An instance.

 Hello darlin can you shut the back door?  It's the window cleaner.  My first brush with humanity after retiring with this hideous headache.  I go and check my purse to see that I have the right cash for him.  My cash normally goes on him or fish and chips, the last £20 went on that, £30 for three fish and chips, no longer cheap (to be metered out between four. 

Living with a ginnel between the houses is a surprise for me.  It can be choked for instance with all the stuff they are taking out of the house which is being renovated, or builder's vans or even cars.  Cars are somewhat frowned upon and little altercations will go on.  The man in charge of the flats over the way was upset by the car that had parked in front of his row of dustbins.  So he carefully moved the dustbins in front of the car.  The car man still went on parking in the ginnel after he had moved the dustbins, then Lillie put a note on the gate which said obviously 'Please do not park in front of the Gate.  The car has gone, we feel guilty of course.

Guilt to my mind is a peculiar pleasure we indulge ourselves in.   I can feel guilty about many things past or present.  It is a foolish emotion.  And yes it doesn't worry me being addressed as 'darlin', it is the window cleaner's way of speaking and as I fork out the money for five minutes of work, I think this is also justified as well, keeping the wheels of work going around.

I don't think we will go back to the High Streets we once knew, or to cash for all our goods.  Though I suspect there will be some trades who will still take 'cash in hand' but that is the way of the world.

Why do I get such headaches, and why do I know they will eventually get better around three in the afternoon.  It's the weather and that high pressure which has once again moved in.  Yesterday I listened to Kevin Anderson spelling out the physics of why we are going through climate change.  I choose to listen to him but (and this is so important when you listen to other people) I willingly  also let my skepticism rule. He was fascinating in his political talk as well.  As a professor he chose to work one day a week, he was happy with his £28,000 annual salary for work done.  He was happy with the flat he had.  In other words he had made peace with his world. And more important allowed the new change in. Alas shocking news ;) ;) he had done some work for Burnham as well.  So we will see if the two oil fields come on line or not.

Playing

 Well flicking through my photos I came across a folder one called Miniatures.  It recalled the years I had furnished the Georgian dolls house we had plus of course making little boxed room sets.  I had all the tools, a miniature lathe, tiny drills and chisels and sent off for specialised wood from an expert.

I had bought the dolls house at Tridias the toy shop in Walcot Street in Bath, also a small octagonal shop, with a gold cupola on top, an imitation of Beckford's Tower up on the downs.  I fitted the shop with shelves and made the hats from bits and pieces.  Note: simple way to make hats from felt, is to shape with glue and then mould onto the bottom of the rounded base of screwdriver, something round anyway.

Then I went on to creating tableaus in  boxes.  Firstly there was Farley Hungerford castle, we did a dig there and the custodian told wonderful stories about the ghosts of the castle.  For instance the three little children coffins  down in the crypt when once the custodian stayed down there one night in the crypt for a bet..  She was woken up in the middle of the night by a child's voice saying 'I'm  cold'!  Yes I was a bit sceptical as well but she put her coat over the coffin.   At the moment l am listening to Barbara Erskine and her book which talks of leaving a wife to starve too death.  'Lady of Hay'.  Is  the book. The second photo with its chain and swords were put to good use by Tom for killing the dolls;)

When I had nimble finger making the pictures and frames was easy.  Though I note I was in my William Morris stage.  I started buying furniture, intricately perfected by much better miniature furniture people than myself and Christmas arrived in the scene with the purchase of a Xmas tree.

Then my favourite, Prittlewell Saxon Burial.  A father buried by his sons. Pagan and Christian objects within the burial chamber.  I used my little Persian salt and pepper silver bowls and enjoyed creating the timbered effect out of soft wood. Also the bags and Roman chair had leather from a purse.

I had found a box of all the little pieces of china, I must have kept, it sits now on my desk, Lillie hasn't found it yet, she was the only one interested in the Georgian dolls house, it had become a 'grown-up' hobby unless you think of yourself as a child of course.

Two early ones than I finish: the first is a sketch of Gandalf.  The story  of Lord of the Ring echoed through my life.  I was first introduced to it in Blonay by my then husband and have read it a couple of times.  A great classical telling of another imagined world.

The second tableau is of a small Roman temple, again the Roman temples round Somerset with their secrets.  There is one along the Bristol estuary that many little statues of dogs were found.  Apparently the saliva of a dog is healing - bet you didn't know that!

I think of Lucy occasionally

 

Which I often do!

It is Sunday, a day of peace and quiet, though Zelensky is pleading for more war weaponry but there is a stillness in the air and I have a sick headache unfortunately.  So a memory of Lucy.

We both suffered from untidy hair.  Lucy just knew when she landed in our house, that she had an easy billet. Eight years old and taken to The Dog's Trust for rehoming because she could not settle in the rented home of her owners and was a useless retrieving dog.  They had come back from Portugal with three dogs, two male and Lucy and because they were all put in a shed, she had barked and barked at this imprisonment.  Twice we went to the kennels near Thirsk and the second time she came home with us.  

To get to Thirsk we had to go down Sutton Bank, a steep road through a rather beautiful area, often shut when bad weather was around.  She sat in the back of the car and when we stopped to share a sandwich, she managed to scrounge most of it.  Yes she got to be rather plump.

I remember we had to leave her for the day with a friend and on coming back I asked had she behaved herself.  Well yes said the friend but she picked up her bowl of water and threw it across the kitchen, we had always gave her a heavily weighted bowl of water so that she wouldn't pick it up.

There was a determined but playful air to her, being 'naughty' amused Lucy greatly.  She also had some neurological problem, which would manifest itself occasionally at night times and she would pace restlessly around the house deliberately knocking the fireplace's bits and pieces over.

A walk was practically a no-no and there's me wanting the companionship of a dog to go walking, she agreed to walk down the lane to a farm gate, then with a jump and a swizzle she would turn round and pull me back home.  Once as we came back out of the fields and I was shutting the gate, she slipped the lead and went trotting off back home refusing to stop and I watched with heart in mouth as she went on the road over the bridge into the face of oncoming traffic. Luckily, She made it home safely with cars stopping. 

Paul adored her, as long as I kept her clean for the car, no beck swimming.  For some reason she always managed to start the car alarm going, so it meant someone had to stay in the car with her when we were grocery shopping.

When at the age of thirteen years old she had a stroke, and I had to make the decision of her being put down.  Though my son's best friend said putting down a dog was murder.  Such a forthright statement needs thinking over but it is true, though we do it for  a good reason.  I was all alone at the time, when I took her to the vet but as usual held her paw, as I had done with all my animals as she went under.  Breaking your heart over animals  somehow seems silly but the happiness they give you through their short lives compensates you.

But she had a good five years with us.  Our wandering in Yorkshire took us to churches and the moors, she would grab the lead in her mouth, fully independent and just follow us.

Dancing with joy

Sometimes I get tired of all the gloom and misery about the terrible time the North has with all their problems.  But then the Wakefield Morris Dancers come dancing across my screen and for all those moaners who want it to be "like it was before".  Just cop a look at this, for gaiety and frivolousness you can't beat a Morris dance, as I'm sure Ariel would agree. 

It was the dance in the sea that made me laugh out loud, you can only find it on F/B on their site,  (Wakefield Morris Dancers) and it is at Sidmouth Folk Festival, I think the group will now be found in Whitby for the festival there.

Their Wakefield appearance at the Rhubarb Festival here, note Ramsdens,(famous fish and chips outlet)  but  now the once famous name has become a pawnbroker!

Wakefield has plenty of culture by the way, plenty of sculpture in their outside spaces and galleries.  All spurred on by what must be the two most famous names that were born here - Barbara Hepworth and Henry Moore.

Writing in his The Anatomie of Abuses (1583), a sort of Elizabethan version of the Daily Mail which excoriated the declining state of England and the degenerate behaviour of its people, Stubbs turns the full force of his censorious quill on the morris men: "They strike up the Devil's Dance withall: then march this heathen company towards the church and churchyards, their pypers pyping, the drummers thundering, their stumpes dancing, their belles jyngling, their hankercheefes fluttering about their heads like madde men." More than four centuries later, they are still doing so; in fact, the pastime appears to gaining popularity. taken from The Independent.

Taken from an earlier blog

Morris: A Life with bells on; trailer

7th August 2026

 It was cool yesterday, showers all day, and puddles in the road! Again, the trains were playing up.  Ninety seconds of an interruption of the signalling and the whole theatre practically closed down.  My daughter will tell you of people sitting on trains waiting for them to move, or the sudden rush of people across the platform as a rumor has gone out that another train is about to move.  She calmly goes to a restaurant, has a meal and reads a book.  A train eventually got  her to Rochdale, no replacement bus so an Uber to Tod.

All I can think of is rather than play around with money on the stock exchange, especially AI, put the money to a decent use, clean up the water and see that our rolling stock is up to date and of course build more houses and see that people do not starve, even the food banks are finding the shelves more empty.

Speculation and gambling?  we now talk in trillions rather than billions, though you can slide quite easily out of being the richest person on the planet  as Elon Musk was last week, or maybe the second one this week.  Not really important, as the money doesn't even really exist, just scribbles on a bit of paper. 

Well Burnham is settling down to the job, his 'shocks' metered out over the days.  I am not quite sure what to make of him, he has got social care in his baggage but it is a giant of a problem.

Yesterday I filled in one of the innumerable surveys that make their way across my emails.  This time Nova Media.  I like their discussions, youngish people musing on the daily going on in the world.  They are striking out into new premises and of course the future lies in these start-up news venues. Note: it gives me kudos with the young in the family by the way! 

There is so much to read on the net, with Substack for instance, a lot may be nonsense, but it broadens the mind.  We are definitely becoming a 'Babylon' of words.  

Which reminds me, of a quote by H.G.Wells, when all our little egos will become part of the one large ego of the world. We will be (was he prescient I wonder;) subsumed by AI no less.

Strikes me as funny

3rd August 2026 - Yorkshire

 

When one cannot find something to write about, I run through my photos for a bright spark to engage the numb brain.  Trouble is if I do the same on my blog I spend time reading the stuff I wrote so many years ago.  Look at these beautiful trees, planted on a slope, the soil has washed away, exposing the roots but their grip is solid. Another line of trees below, up on Wheeldale Moor.  Has a tree fallen allowing suckling branches to grow or is it the work of a peasant that once lived here a couple of centuries ago.

This was once a cottage I think but more recent history says it was a building, for walkers maybe, a piece of history I have not looked into.  There is a pair of stones placed as for a gate at one time but now overgrown with bracken.

Catch up news The crypt under the church of St. Mary, Lastingham

In answer to Dawkin's book - The God Delusion, (Yorkshire Pudding) I would argue that there is a need for religion, whether you believe or not.  Humans were born with a need for creativity, from the first charcoal drawings on the walls of caves to the intricately built cathedrals.  The need to create was overwhelming it just needed a channel to open up the way.  Of course the foolishness of men (yes that stays) who wanted to dominate, a whole class of stupidness was born, mostly it had to do with power and greed.  Also, probably not thought of, a need for  developing brain power to workout.  It went horribly wrong and there was no God to pick up the pieces!

Ghosts always interesting to carry along.

31st July 2026

Something more cheerful or a start;  Jablog said about writing a book of my family, I  somehow don't think that would be welcome.  But that admirably titled book 'My family and other animals' by Gerald Durrell twitched my inner giggle because I have been unfairly accused of loving my animals better than my children.  As if!

I will speak out for animals of course, and I did have my quota of dogs, cats, rabbits during my lifetime but that was it.  Also, I looked after the 'acquired' pets of my son, frogs, which I had to dig worms from the garden for.

Shamefully I was indulged in childhood with a pony and a St. Bernard at one stage but dogs drifted in and out of our household at the time.  Rescued probably.  Also, Snowy the cat, with one green and one blue eye, who could never make up her mind as to whether she lived with us or next door.

On my shelves are two drafts of manuscripts, one by Con Opper the other by Lotta Opper.  One is very bureaucratic, the other a bit too honest on relationships.  So neither would find a market and are only of interest to the family.  I think like most families we looked for the exotic in our family or at least a brief brush with royalty, either side of the bedsheet! 

Being born illegitimate  and in my time as a child it was shameful, the word used was bastard.  Then spending a good part of my life thinking I was part Jewish, only to find out that my mother came from Staffordshire in the Midlands I realised the fibs one is told as a child are really not good.  

My Jewish friend who I went riding with tried to convince me to go out when I was in my twenties to Israel and join a Kibbutz.  Thank goodness I did not, what a terrible dilemma I would have faced as I watched the settlers taking the land off the Palestinians.  How would I have reacted?  

These small changes in our lifestyle can have so many repercussions later in life.

The grandchildren growing up, are though, very similar to our animals in the way they grow up.  We laugh delightedly at their antics.  Their energy tamed over time into what is expected of them - I would add the word sadly  there.  For we must always subscribe to the norm of our class, a word I hate for its implications but so necessary when describing one's background.  Like the labelling in our blogs we hit a number of defined statistics in life.

The question is do they explain us?

 --------------------------------------------- 

The fridge/freezer has given up the ghost in this weather.  It is German and brightly coloured (orange for goodness sake)and has been struggling the last two weeks.  The freezer parts still work but the fridge has packed in.  It will be removed tomorrow and a new sedate silver one installed.  No flashing bright lights, no ice making frippery or cold water on tap just a plain old fridge/freezer to harbour the many dishes and foodstuffs only a fridge can accumulate. 

We have the scouts small camping fridge to keep cheeses, butter and milk cold but that is all till tomorrow.  We also have a cold basement but no one really wants to trot down there for milk for the tea or coffee.

A photo seen by millions

 

France on fire.  Ringside view

This couple are of course unable to do anything about the fires that burn in Europe, or even in the UK.  I ceased saying anything years ago about climate change.  It has only been on the table this last 30 years, people just did not want to know.  And we, so like this couple will sit back and watch, listen to the ceaseless arguments about fossil fuel being 'needed' and some will wonder at the laziness of the population in not making more direct action to at least  remedy what is happening now.

People will be evacuated, wild life will be left to their fate.  Land will be scorched and crops burnt.  Not a future we should leave for our children.  

Kevin Anderson climate engineer

Kevin Anderson (scientist) - Wikipedia

29th July 2026

 Thinking of food.  Yesterday was Scandinavian.  Yes two of the clan went out hunting in Greater Manchester yesterday at Ikea.  Basically it was just a walk around the store, funny how men do not like Ikea, a feast for the eyes in stuff you would never think of owning.  Luckily as we do not have a car, nothing large came home with them except storage bags and meatballs with the necessary meatball gravy.

All the news is about Andy Burnham, I think it is asking rather a lot of him to turn Britain into another Manchester success.  Do you notice how I do not say Great Britain, I dropped the great when the unfortunate Brexit was delivered to us on a plate and ever since it has been a downward spiral.  

Actually we should set Burnham on the train service, its ups and down and replacement buses are exhausting for many people.  But today he is to address the thorny issue of social care, it will be an interesting speech and also talk of cross party engagement, times they are a-changing.

In September the whole family is setting off for Switzerland for a weekend visit, Andrew who loves planning has jogged us into acquiring passports (me) and insurance.  I think there is a car being hired there, but there should be about ten of us going, give or take girlfriends/boyfriends and their ongoing relationships!

Of family out there only Marc and Sylvia, so in all it will be rather sad.  Sylvia is Karen's aunt, she taught in Hong Kong for many years and is an expert on Piaget.  Then there is Marc, successful businessman but slowly retiring from work.  I think this is because of a terrible car accident he had, I think it was with a tank but I shall find out more on it.

28th July 2026

Byland Abbey

Buried in the valley this English abbey reminds me of those lost temples in Peru. Hidden by dense jungle, only now such abbeys in this country as Rievaulx and Byland lie hidden in the North Yorkshire valleys.  Once home to a thriving community of monks.  Now vanished with time.  The good and the bad must have played out their stories in these buildings.  The 'greater glory of God' worshipped within the great stone walls.  Meike's blog reminded me of having never visiting Fountain's Abbey.  I owned a book once on the ruined abbeys of England.  It was by an American author, who had listed all the abbots in succession of the abbeys he had visited.  The usual attention to detail of 19th century writers.

What brings it sharply to mind?  Could be I was watching the tv drama 'The Rapture' yesterday.  A psychological drama, one of those weirdo cults, that every now and then comes into being.  The Rapture is of course, the coming of the end of life on Earth? (not sure about that) but anyway you are flown to heaven.  It is a nice cosy comfort story.

   

In the drama, heat temperatures have risen and the young are panicking about it, in other words it encompasses all that we fear today.  The restlessness amongst the young and the theme of the story, a young girl supposed to have killed her mother and now she beats herself against a window longing to be outside but she is trapped in a psychiatric hospital,  all very  reflective of our society today;

Change is happening, we all aware of that, it thrums in the air as agitation rises in  protest groups.  A battle is being fought, you maybe can't see it but fear stalks our young.  Capitalism is out of balance, it comes crashing into our lives, leaving us worried about food on the table and a roof over our heads.  Yes it is quite alright for some baby boomers, secure in their very expensive houses, paid up  mortgages  out of the way, but many of the young do not have this advantage.

So we once more look to a different guru to solve the problem (unsolvable).  There is a slow movement going back to the socialist fold but there is a fair proportion of the population following in the steps of Farage and asserting their rights to be who they are and (don't forget this) shutting down everyone else's rights.  The constraints of fascism are beginning to appear.

But I am old and heading for my place in the sky;) So I will leave you with a Japanese, sort of frittata omelet  and a foggy Yorkshire England.

North Stoke: fog (and notes)

North Stoke: Okonomiyaki cooked at the table

This was a Japanese restaurant somewhere near the British Museum and funnily enough the two sauces used to enliven the pancake is a brown sauce very similar to our brown sauce and a  Japanese mayonnaise.

Off track

 

The wedding of William and Catherine 29th April 2011

And I wrote these words the following day, not exactly over excited by their wedding ...   but I did mention it.  So much water has passed under the bridge since then.  Three attractive children later means the strong line of the Windsors is going forward. 

William's brother Harry in  disgrace living in America. Is the real reason that he is shunned by the royal family his marriage to Megan, a film star in her own right? She definitely raised the hackles of some of the royal family.

Andrew, William's uncle also in disgrace because of his connection with Epstein.  He is, there is no other way of saying it, a rather stupid man.  At the moment flailing around at the unkindness of the world. 

 

Charles survives as king, mostly untouched by the scandal of these two.  Like Catherine he has been seriously ill.  He came to the throne late but is thought well of, that is, if you are a royalist.

And I was only looking for meadowsweet photos. Click once on photos for larger views.

Buddha Fields

North Stoke: Catching up

24th July 2026

Teasels Dipsacus Fullonum;  I love the perfection of this plant.  Guarded on all sides by its spikes, even the stem, it is defiant and its colour from the faintest silver to the dark purple and then brown (a final act)  is a lesson in growing old.

When we lived in Essex near to Chelmsford, we would often wander round the area and it was very beautiful in places.  Lost little spaces of tangled wild flowers and lanes coming to an abrupt stop.  We were near to Sandford Mill, and there seemed to be a lot of teasels around.  On reflection they could be the progeny of the clothier teasel, (OE taesan, to tease) used to brush the surface of cloth and Grigson gives many local names for it.

To quote Grigson;  In the Wild Teasel the bracts are straight, the Fullers' Teasel they curve back, and so can be used to raise the nap on the newly woven cloth.

Meadowsweet has also crept in because it is a favourite as well.

Interesting historical fact?:   Apparently the goldfinch was seen as a special healing kind of bird in the medieval period and can be found occasionally in paintings.  Why? because the little goldfinches' red face came about because it plucked the thorns out of Christ's thorn crown.  Goldfinches love teasel seeds by the way.

Grigson goes from the Roman naming of the plant, Labruim Veneris - Lip of Venus, to William Turner in 1548 calling it virgo pastoris - Shepherd's Rod.  It's local naming holds the word brush as part of the description, Gipsy Brush, Ladies Brush, Barber' Brush, etc.

Another fact;  in the Wiki on this plant, and  from Darwin's son Francis Darwin's work  is to do with carnivory...

"Rain water can collect in the cup-like receptacles that form where sessile leaves join the stem; this structure may perform the function of preventing sap-sucking insects such as aphids from climbing the stem. These receptacles in turn may also be used to collect the nutrients from any animal matter that accumulates within them, making them a form of protocarnivorous plants"

I should think the sapsucking insects would be put off by the fine spikes that cover the stem.

Moment of doubt, I have many of them, perhaps it is a thistle said that annoying little gnome in my head.  But thistles have a different shape! ;)

The inspiration for teasels come from Shadows and Light, and as I wandered through my blogs it brought back happy memories, especially now as I hardly see any wild flowers.