In the olden days of new television they had 'intervals' or at least 'test' pictures, before all this advertising; life was tranquil. Tranquility has been lost now, advertise, advertise, and more advertising along with the trivia of life.
Sagas erupt, Phillip Schofield and everyone in this minute drama please pipe down, I couldn't care less who you have slept with. I would like Johnson to retire after making all his money on the American circuit of 'talk'. But just tell me America why do you pay to listen to a liar?
Pat was remembering the old man who lived in a caravan at the bottom of the lane to her farmer husband's farm and I remembered Nelson and his little smallholding just on the other side of the Sun Inn in Normanby. There was some dispute over the land but he reigned with his little kingdom of animals and the old caravan he lived in. Sweet baby goats, ducks, chickens geese, sheep grazing the banks of the river and whatever took his fancy from the Malton market.
His chickens would wander into our garden, and obviously liking it would try to stay and I would fetch him to catch them. Not easy for he lived behind a barricaded gate. He also at one stage kept bees up on the moors, and had a little table in the pub car park on which he sold jars of honey and eggs. Paul once brought Karen a jar of honey, but she said there was a lot of 'other' things in the honey so did not eat it.
Nelson would get his water from a stag pipe across the road from our cottage, his white van would stop and a pile of large white plastic cans would slowly be filled. People brought him meals in the pub, you put your money down at the counter for future meals for him.
His couple of acres ran alongside the river, and my walk was always on the other side of the river and a strange thing happened every year. There would be egg shells along the path, obviously stolen from chickens from his plot, but who was the thief, and did this creature brave the shallow river?
At Xmas he would creep into the copse behind our garden and cut down the berried holly branches for sale in Malton. He tried to be unseen but I always saw him. I am sure the people who owned the land would not have begrudged him though.
Possibly because we were not bombarded by advertising, people did not expect a lot. I was saying only the other day that my grandparents and their parents only wanted to be able to clothe and feed themselves and to be warm and dry. My grandparents did like to go to the pictures (cinema) when it came along. I suppose that was the start of things.
ReplyDeleteLife has certainly moved on at a quickening pace Tasker. A slower life was more peaceful but then today the health issues have been addressed more, with the help of technology though. When I was a child my nanna had one cold water tap in the kitchen, no bathroom, and an outside loo. Yet both of them were quite happy. Because they knew no better I wonder?
ReplyDeleteThose old characters just don't seem to exist any more do they?
ReplyDeleteNo Pat conventional England has made it too difficult to live on the edge.
DeleteI call these people 'fringe' people. They exist on the edges of life. They bother no one, and really does not cost a penny to be kind. We have so many people who struggle here. It really does bother me a great deal. Boris won't line his pocket with my money. I've no interest in listening to him, let alone PAYING to listen to him.
ReplyDeleteI have seen several videos of the homelessness on the streets of America Debby, it is terrifying to think that drugs completely ruin the lives of young people. Yet it seems that slowly in this over populated Earth there are those that live on this edge of precarious survival.
DeleteI have just commented about the Phillip Schofield witch-hunt on Weave's latest post. I don't want to write it again, so please have a look.
ReplyDeleteYes agree with you and Pat on this cruel witch hunting Tom.
Delete