27th December

The world is still dark outside, and the house quiet, Lucy has had something wrong with her paw for sometime, so walking has been stopped the last few days.  She of course brings it on herself by scratching at the door of the hens, think she reckons they have better food than her! Too dozy to wake up for opening presents but she does at last and is happy with the snowman.

Well I had  Phil Rickman's books, one already read the Susan Lulham, it did not have a satisfactory ending though, you have to get the next book written from this novella.  Nigella always appears at Christmas for me mostly cookery books from my daughter, and she also bought me Kaffe Fassett 'Glorious Needlepoint' plus a large saucepan for cooking all the pasta they need when they come!

Sometimes I think Rickman has been crossed with Steven King and a historian...

Christmas day was spent in the morning talking to family on the phone and then lunch time next door to the pub. The girls offer a free drink, though we always try to pay.  Neighbours from across the road came in with their family, all over from Australia, two darling little girls skipped around, the fire crackled and the world was at peace.  LS, or Paul, is over the moon living in this village, all that I can ask for says he............ 

Two storms have rattled through, rain on the wind, which blows from the West with such ferocity, luckily the leaves are down from the trees.  Note how I can always know the way of the wind, it is because we live next door to a church, facing east/west.......

Which reminds me of two articles I have read online, the first is about trees and the fact they are living organisms, able to communicate with each other, and also feeling pain, the link is here.   And the second is only of interest to those that love megaliths..

Xmas tidings

 Happy Christmas everyone, may your family and friends be with you on this day, and may the New Year not be as eventful as 2016.  Love Thelma xxx

The Day before Christmas

The North wind doth blow and we shall have snow,
And what will poor robin do then, poor thing?
He'll sit in a barn and keep himself warm
and hide his head under his wing, poor thing.

Well a simple nursery rhyme about the robin is something that went through my head this morning, though the Darkling Thrush by Hardy would seem more appropiate to the wet, windy and cold weather... I just love Hardy's mournful gloom his books a great favourite when I was younger.

The Darkling Thrush

I leant upon a coppice gate

When Frost was spectre-grey,

And Winter's dregs made desolate

    The weakening eye of day.

The tangled bine-stems scored the sky

    Like strings of broken lyres,

And all mankind that haunted nigh

    Had sought their household fires...

The rest of the verses are in the link above.

But enough of the weather, and those poor birds at this time of the year, I have fed them, and there is as yet still no snow. But is it not appropiate for Xmas Eve, that we do gather by the fire.  Yesterday a visit to the dentist, all clear thank goodness, the sound of the drill in another room made my stomach turn over!
The other day Weaver of Grass (Pat) had problems with which charity to give to. I am not sure on this, I suggested the 'White Helmets' of Syria who do a much needed job of rescuing the wounded from the buildings that have been bombed.  A volunteer group of Syrian people seemed right.
But it made me remember last weekend when we were watching Peter Pan, and my daughter seemed very knowledgeable on the story of J.M. Barrie, she revealed that actually she had the Wiki entry on her phone.  Well said I, thank goodness I gave a donation the other week to Wikipedia, it is a non-profit organisation and educates people all round the world. 
It is difficult to choose a charity at Xmas, we are beset on all sides for pleas for money.  Home charity is the 'Salvation Army' or 'Shelter' of course for taking the homeless of the street but do they do it all the year.
Medecins Sans Frontieres is of course another one, as is the Red Cross or Save The Children.  Whatever their are plenty out there and don't get me started on animal charities, pictures of ill abused animals are there to set your heart off, as are of course the terrible pictures of children suffering.  Should we feel guilt? the answer is of course yes, but perhaps also we should be nagging our governments as well, after all they have the biggest pots of money.

22nd December

"What is he who dreaming sees, and after 'dreaming the imprinted passion Remains, and to his mind the rest returns not, such am I, for almost utterly Ceases my vision, and even distills my heart the sweetness born of it."

- Dante, Paradiso, Canto XXXIII

Qual e’ colui che somniando vede, che dopo ‘l sogno la passione impressa rimane, e l’altro a la mente non riede, cotal son io…

For Littlestone, who has nagged so much for me to take photos of the restaurant! And also Pat, thank you for the Solistice poem, LS also put one up as well for the Solstice, a Seamus Heaney one, Heaney of course did an archaeological course in Ireland.

Lunch out yesterday, LS's birthday treat at The Plough Inn at Wombleton.  What does he have? the same as always, tempura prawns with a salad and a side bowl of fries, me I try the cashew nut/fruit curry, good though rather sweet, Lucy shared my poppadum.  We have to lunch in the bar above with Lucy but I have now taken photos of the restaurant bit, rather empty yesterday.  There are a few pubs like this round the area, gastro-pubs I suppose they are called, the girl who served us spoke highly of our pub  the Sun Inn next door and was going with her boyfriend for New Year.  It has quite a reputation the Sun Inn, serving massive meals for the locals, who will of course include farmers and putting on 'events', all run by Harriet, under 25 years old, Lucy, 16 years old and still at school, and William their brother who helps out. Gastro it may not be but their pies are greatly sought out ;)

The Wombles of Wombleton

Inner dining room

the other end

21st December - or Solstice Day

People belong to places rather than places belonging to people;  Michael Newton

Well good news this morning President Obama, has at last used legal means to protect the Arctic and Alaska from further drilling for oil and gas...of course we will all have to wait to see if Trump can overturn it.

"Barack Obama has permanently banned new oil and gas drilling in most US-owned waters in the Arctic and Atlantic oceans, a last-ditch effort to lock in environmental protections before he hands over to Donald Trump.".

Our fracking appeal appeal in North Yorkshire unfortunately  failed yesterday but the anti-fracking people are still fighting on - watch this space.

Another interesting facet as we fight for the rights of our environment is that in New Zealand the River Whanganui and all its tributaries has been granted Personhood, which means it has the same legal rights as an ordinary person, therefore the Maori people can go to law to protect the river.  In 2008 Ecuador became the first nation in the world to recognise the legal rights of its mountains, rivers and land, and subsequently in 2011 the River Vilcabamba came before the judge of Loja, to stop an adjacent road being widened forcing debris into the river.  The court case was successful.

So where am I going with all this, well as it is Solstice Day, and the dark turns towards the light a fascinating article in my magazine Resurgence by Madeline Bunting caught my eye, not only for the beautiful photographs but the thoughts expressed about the island of Jura in the Hebrides - Language of the Land.

Does land have a language? of course it does, evocative, it will speak to us like the tree whispering its secrets, laughing at us short-lived humans who bring our dreams to it, the land patiently endures us, only in the high and mighty mountains does it holds on to it's wilderness. 

Some land like the islands of Scotland are so poor in our terms for farming, but not of course in their own ecology, that people do have a hard time surviving on them, especially in the teeth of the gales and storms that sweep over from the Atlantic, and trees are almost non-existent. It requires a special kind of nature to survive and perhaps more importantly a sense of community.  It is expressed in the word Duthchas.....

"The Gaels of the Highlands held a very ancient tradition and belief stretching back into pre-history, it is what lay behind the origins of the Highland Clan. This tradition is known in Gaelic as ‘duthchas’ and in Welsh as 'cynefin'. It is impossible to accurately translate the meaning of those words into English, but it expresses a sense of belonging to a certain area of land, of being rooted by ancient lineage to a particular place that was communally held by all the people of the clan. This idea of holding the land communally was never written down as was the custom of the time, it was simply an idea that was accepted by all as being the natural order of things."

Do we not see strands of the same thinking in the Indians at Standing Rock?

http://www.clanjames.com/duthchas.htm

The Gaelic way of life is an antithesis to the way of capitalism, people work together but not in competition, we often see this on television programmes, the crofters gathered together to bring the sheep down from the high pastures, dipping them, and the rather marvellous way each person in the community may have a series of jobs serving the island so that the infra structure runs smoothly.

A famous story well known,  Lord Leverhulme had bought a large estate on Lewis, he wanted to bring the slippery thongs of capitalism to the islands, he promised jobs in his new canning fishing factories.  New homes, electricity and railways, but he was not prepared to let his land become communal and was taken to court.  A crofter stood up in court and spoke these words;

"You have bought this island.  But you have not bought us, and we refuse to be the bond slaves of any man.  We want to live our lives in our own way.  Poor in material things it may be, but at least it will be free of the factory bell; it will be free and independent".

Freedom of course is the answer but within the strict terms of the community......

A friend has just emailed a time to remember the Nattie Fonten well, so here are his words taken from TMA for the Old Wives Well; A Happy Solstice everyone xxx

"In 270 a.d., the Emperor Aurelian declared worship of the sun god, Sol Invictus, an official religion throughout the empire. He dedicated the Sol Invictus Temple in Rome on December 25th., 274, and declared that day Dies Natalis Solis Invicti – the Day of the Birth of the Unconquered Sun. Our midwinter festival has been held on 25th. ever since. 

If this spring had previously hosted a winter solstice festival, then the Romans patrolling the nearby Wade's Causeway would have referred to it as Fontana Natalis – the 'Birth Spring', or 'Winter Solstice Spring' (the winter solstice being the birth of the year – in the Welsh language, Christmas is Nadolig, in Cornish it's Nadelik, both words derived from Latin natalis - 'birth'). 

Centuries later, a folk rendition of Latin fontana natalis (perhaps influenced by Norman French 'fontein') was all they could manage. But it's there to this day – Nattie Fonten. Roll on, roll on."

https://www.theguardian.com/travel/2016/oct/09/hebrides-st-kilda-isle-of-lewis-cliffs-birds-madeleine-bunting

Tuesday 20th December

Two pictures, the foggy fields that are part of the weather every morning, and then that glorious photo of the bridge in Spain which appears as my desktop photo when I switch on the computer. Surprisingly I still love this wretched English weather, the middle tree is the 'buzzard tree', it's shape is distinguished by the ivy that clings so lovingly to the trunk.  Familiarity is of course the name of the game, we look out constantly on the outside world, watching the moon wane as it is now, waiting for Solstice which is around this time, as the year turns neatly round and we head towards the light.  All is measured, time is not an element just something we measure our lives around.  I could tell you that all the rabbits have disappeared in that long bank, Nelson must have shot or trapped them.  Occasionally I hear a dog in his caravan, probably lent by another poacher.

Normanby's weather

puente nuevo bridge spain

The weekend has gone, not read a scrap of news, though have watched the evacuation of children and adults from Aleppo on the television, how are they going to rebuild these towns, do they want to?

Assad in the comfort of his palace must be brought to justice for what he has unleashed on his people, but what to do about all these homeless people; give money to the various organistions for sure but who will comfort those children from the horrors of war.

To return to home news, the safe and comfy life we all lead, and which is denied others on this planet. Lucy had a wash and clip yesterday by Allison down the road, her parents live on a small holding, which is apparently registered.  E was complaining that they had no notification about the Avian flu from Defra, as we all know the first confirmed case is in Lincolnshire amongst a group of turkeys, all will be culled of course, and a family will lose a substantial part of their income. N has built a small run for his chickens and ducks, but E says her ducks don't like being shut up and have gone off their food.  I bought my little lot some wood shavings to play around in the run, which keeps them amused and they are still laying plenty of eggs.

Pub tea with the family, my daughter loves our pub, the 'characters' you meet is her excuse, here they are choosing music to play, second one down and our glamorous Matilda, looking somewhat like Heidi with those pigtails keeps her phone constantly to hand, her hair is a source of crossness on my part;), Lucy has become somewhat blurred, constant movement is her problem.

Old scruff with sock

Smelling sweet, tail wagging

Saturday 17th December

A lovely little video made in 1978 about two girls bringing up a baby blackbird, and it survived. Reminded me of the story about the little grey kitten that stood on our doorstep meowing piteously early one morning. Getting up, probably to go to the loo, I heard this noise and upon opening the front door the most beautiful long haired kitten sat there with a great long bramble caught up in his tail. Quickly came in, I got my son up who would have been about 12 years old to hold the kitten whilst I teased out the bramble.  The kitten fell asleep on his lap, and he knelt there on the hall carpet for probably a couple of hours whilst it slept.  We had that kitten for three weeks, though I advertised him all over the village, we had thought it would stay with our two cats, so I took him to the vets for a check-up and worming.  Couple of hours later, the phone rang, the owner had been found having just rung up the vet.

To say that the owner was happy is an understatement, over the moon more like it, he came into the sitting room his face fell as he saw our two curled up on the settee, then he spied his little poppet and his life was restored ;) Later that day two carrier bags of goodies landed on our step in grateful recognition for looking after his little kitten, my son was not too happy though!

Well the family come down today, and it is LS's birthday tomorrow, so it is the weekend before Xmas!  Our friends came for coffee yesterday and chatted all morning, they are going next year for a boat ride, okay cruise around the Scottish Islands, dearly as I would love to do that those fierce seas would put me off.  Apparently the people of St.Kilda, who as we all know were taken off their Island, rather then being put in one place together were separated on the mainland, and according to J the last person has just died.  Another interesting fact, originally the islanders all lived in a rounded block of houses, think Scara Brae because they were protected on all sides from the weather.  Well those dratted missionaries, or their equivalent came along in the 19th Century and made them live in that long line of cottages, which of course was open to the terrible storms of the sea.  Must find a book on the subject.

St.Kilda's High Street

http://www.northernlight-uk.com/islands/st-kilda/

Christmas comes to Normanby

Aliens arriving in Normanby last night, no it is just Father Christmas on his sleigh collecting for charity........... the men wore multi coloured lights in their hats

The church decorated in holly and ivy for the Carol Service, Jo and David, had partly stripped our holly tree the day before, but the displays are simple but beautiful.

The Grace of Nature

Yesterday on our walk across the fields, two birds made their appearance.  The first was the beautiful Barn Owl, it floated out gently in front of us, not afraid it circled around us, hunting probably, across the field it went back and forward, no camera to record but a marvellous sight.  At last it disappeared into the rickety old buildings of the farm house.  Look at that face, almost comical but adapted to hunting by day or night.  I wished him success.

So what was the second bird, a buzzard, probably my favourite, watching them turn slowly in the sky wheeling around on an updrift, always sends an optimistic thrill through me.  This one I see most times  around the field I even know his favourite tree,  as he registers our presence for sitting in, whilst we wander along the path, and hopefully disappear from his life, we don't as we have to make our way back because of the mud the river people have created.

Yorkshire - Wednesday 14th Dec.

Photographs are so easy these days, snap the picture and then put it on your computer, nothing more. Remember the old days, fiddly film rolled round the little clasp, (do not get light on the film) and then removing the finished film, off to the chemist for development, and then those photos that never quite hit the mark....

Well time for computer photos, taken over the last few years, churches figure extensively alongside their accumulated history. Then there are the moors, barren places, sheep grazing, the call of the curlew and the grouse.  

I am in a nostalgic mood this grey day, as the skeleton trees and dark sodden leaves lie heavily everywhere, the slow uphill grind to the 21st of this month, when  the year, or at least the sun. will turn round and flood our part of the Earth with light.  So here we are............

A typical small hamlet

My heart always jump as we go over the cattle grids onto the moor.

Grazing sheep

My favourite part of the moor

A quiet Whitby

Looking across to our bit of Whitby

The woods before we get to the Cawthorn Roman Camps

One of the camps covered in heather and long grass

The  Roman ground defended from those warlike tribes of the North!

Sheep graze the church yard at Lastingham

The sheer solemnity inside a church, which still takes my breath away

This Christian cross would had stood 24 feet high

The museum pieces lying in the crypt of Lastingham, the Viking carving hardly decipherable

Viking pagan snakes invading a church

And last but not least the heather burning on the moor, and a tiny speck of a grouse., for which the burning of the heather which encourages new growth, so that the grouse will feed, produce more young, for them to be shot!  Weird old world we live in.

Sunday 11th Dec

Sunday morning, and i am up early waiting for the dark to go, being a 'lark' means that I freeze slightly till the heating comes on.  First cup of tea and I am on the computer with Lucy pacing from room to room, LS is an 'owl' and will not be woken till 8.0.clock.  I wander through the Roman Cawthorn Camps online trying to pinpoint an Iron Age square barrow from the Arras Culture which lies amongst the camps.  Yorkshire has quite a few barrows such as these, sometimes called chariot burials, as their chariots and horses are also  occasionally buried with them. Deciding that it is to be found in the central camp,  I think when the weather is better to go and find it.

Wetwang burial in East Yorkshire

Next thing Kirstie Allsop, who always plunges head first into Christmas with such joy and gusto, well we can't have a tree, Lucy has already pulled off all the lights round the fire with a great bang in the middle of the night, luckily it was brass candlestick holders that fell.  But I can make something for her, wonder if she will eat them?

Ingredients (makes about 20 dog biscuits)

350 grams plain flour

1 egg

A low salt chicken stock cube

2 tablespoons dried parsley

120 ml hot water

*

The process*

1. Preheat your oven at 200C

2. Dissolve the stock cube into hot water in a bowl

3. Add the flour, egg and parsley to the stock and mix together until you form a dough

4. Knead the dough for a few minutes until it forms a ball – you need to add a tiny bit more water at this stage.

5. Then roll the dough out evenly until it’s half an inch thick approx

6. Cut out shapes using your cookie cutter

7. Place the cut out biscuits on a baking tray that is lined with greaseproof paper

8. Cook in the centre of the oven for 20 – 30 minutes, until they are golden brown

Allow to cool before serving, then let your pet pooch enjoy!

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Light comes eventually, a lovely sunrise, sadly forecasting rain, the church walls bathed in a pink light, our window sills cluttered with bits and pieces, you can see my little yellow elephant, (always have to have an 'elephant in the room') dancing around with Japanese ladies.

Avian flu;  Well Jo came round yesterday, they keep their chickens in their orchard in a shed and have no run, so they are going to ignore the injunction.  Nigel across the road has already made up a small square run, and Nelson, well all I saw out yesterday were his geese.


Somewhere to visit Ebberston Church

Thursday 8th Dec.

Spottiness; The laser lights are working and I see others in the village have their outside lights as well, xmas is on its way.  Today I shall make a start on a wreath, love the greenery of the season, especially the carols, Holly and Ivy even though it is a bit kitsch, except perhaps (which is my favourite) The Boar's Head carol by Steeleye Span and Maddy Prior  justs rolls pagan with medieval historical tones round the house, though of course if you do read the history, christianity was imported at a later stage.

Reminds me of a story I read the other day, this was about a Whitby custom, whereby the locals have to build 'a penny hedge' in the sea and it has to last for three tides.  Well it all goes back to three young nobles who when hunting for a boar in the forests round Whitby, found the boar had taken refuge in a monk's cell, where it died.  The three young hooligans demanded the body of the boar from the monk but he said no, and then of course he was beaten almost to death by them,  They were called to appear before the abbot, who was quite happy to sentence them to death but the dying monk spoke up for them and asked that each year this hedge be built in the sea, must find the original words in the book and so it came to pass.

Well poor chickens all over the country have to stay inside according to DEFRA, no wandering round in the fields for a month because of this Avian flu that is going round in the wild birds, especially those migrating birds.  Not sure what to do, my little lot will go 'stir crazy' if they don't have their ramble around in the afternoon, but heavy fines?

And if you want the words to The Boar's Head

The boar's head in hand bring I 

Bedeck'd with bays and rosemary. 

I pray you, my masters, be merry 

Quot estis in convivio.

Caput apri defero 

Reddens laudes Domino.

The boar's head, as I understand 

Is the rarest dish in all this land 

Which thus bedeck'd with a gay garland 

Let us servire cantico.

Caput apri defero 

Reddens laudes Domino

Our steward hath provided this 

In honor of the King of Bliss; 

Which, on this day to be served is 

In Reginensi atrio.

Caput apri defero 

Reddens laudes Domino.

About this song:

"The boar's head carol" is a traditional Christmas carol dating back to 16th century England. This song is sung on Christmas day at Queen's college, Oxford, where the custom of bringing a boar's head to the dining table is still maintained.

This tradition has its origin from the Pagan custom of serving boar as the first dish at Roman feasts. This is what Wikipedia says about the origin of the tradition at Oxford - Legend has it that a scholar was studying a book of Aristotle while walking through the forest on his way to Midnight Mass. Suddenly, he was confronted by an angry wild boar. Having no other weapon, the resourceful Oxonian rammed his metal-bound philosophy book down the throat of the charging animal, whereupon the brute choked to death. That night the boar's head, finely dressed and garnished, was borne in procession to the dining room, accompanied by carolers singing 'in honor of the King of bliss'. Shows how useful it is, to have a heavy book of Philosophy lying around!

Translation of the latin terms used:
Quot estis in convivio - all who are feasting together
servite cum in cantico - serve it while singing
In Reginensi Atrio - within the Queen's Hall
Caput apri defero - I bring the boar's head
Reddens laudes Domino - Sing thanks to the Lord.

A Victory maybe, let see what the future brings.

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/dec/04/standing-rock-victory-turning-point

Monday 5th December

I stare at the blank page of my computer, and wonder where to start, they have just been discussing on the radio 'the uncomfortable truth' which is that our Muslim brethren do not integrate themselves into the community.  To be honest I know very little of how such things work, there are isolated facts bad Muslim schools teaching only their own faith and such things as the superiority of the male over the female.  The entire cloaking of the body by Muslim women does worry me, but then I have only to look at one of the trashy papers to see the racism that exists in this country.

Matilda my granddaughter has a Muslim friend, her small gang of friends also include two boys with Jewish names, she goes to a school where integration is important.  She is the first to yell 'xenophobia' should you step out of line, the argument that these things should be discussed from an older generation usually falling on deaf ears. This shows of course that each succeeding generation brings different thoughts to the table.

One should never argue at the dining table I can see Lotta, her great-grandmother admonishing her, her great-grandfather would throw a napkin over his head at the table, saying S.A.D., S.A.D. which translated into 'sometimes I despair' and everyone would shut up or laugh.  He did his work in UNESCO and was the gentlest man, but was intolerant of racism, and would have been shocked at the world today, especially what is happening in England and America.

What we have now in England are small communities of different indigenous people, be they Muslim or European,  They may come from Pakistan, India, Africa, Poland and Romania and one day we will in this country be multi-coloured.  Do I worry about that? no is the answer, the world changes, not so much in Yorkshire villages of course but hey-ho things happen, as our children come back with different partners.

Was it Al Gore who used the words 'The Inconvenient Truth' about a different subject, then of course it is beholden on us all to look to the nurture of this planet we live on and perhaps learn to live together as well before our problems are eclipsed by extinction anyway.

Saturday 3rd December

Malton Food market - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

Yesterday we went shopping in Malton, this is our third town within a few miles.  It has a large Asda and Morrison - joy(I am being sarky here) - for food shopping.  Noticed the other day Nelson, the person who lives on his acre of land with his sheep and hens, washing his wellies over the road at the stand tap and thinking bet he is off to Malton for a wander round Asda, as we had met him a couple of times doing just that.  The above photo is old Malton, we always arrive on the long straight road down to the station, lined with shops and you wonder how do they all make a living?

Morrisons was full, and we wandered down to Yates, large ironmonger to sort out some saucepans, one for cooking large mounds of spaghetti when the family arrive, the other for dyeing wool, something I haven't done for ages.

On our shopping trips we take Lucy, she just loves going out in the car, gently snoozing on the back seat, slightly affronted when she has to get out and walk!  One problem with this is that we both cannot go into some shops together and one of us wait outside with her.  She often draws smiles from passerbys and pats on the head from older people,  plumpness, shaggy coat and spotted legs are an unusual combination. We are still doing battle against the plumpness but she does love her food.....

Two birthdays this month, Matilda who will turn 15 on the 10th, I give my grandchildren money for Xmas and birthdays, they are perfectly well equipped for spending it on what they want. Matilda has already ordered her £60 Dior perfume, yes I could not believe it as well, but she is sophisticated, even her head teachers don't stand up to her, so what influence do I have?

The other birthday is LS, who spends most of his time saying I don't want anything, so my suggestions fall on deaf ears, though I do fancy a water feature in the garden, as long as it is not the river flooding over the banks.

Skies are in a fabulous mood at the moment

Edge of the World

 Yesterday I read a blog, about living on the 'Edge of the World' what she was talking about of course was retiring to a quiet part of Ireland, buying three acres with a rundown bungalow, and then making it into a marvellous self sufficient place surrounded by the trees she had planted, the vegetables and flowers and the homemade crafts in the house.  Of course that is retreat from our world, a world that is not only turbulent but fast going into destructive mode.  In a way that is what we all do retreat from the chaos, we made the decision to live in a quiet Yorkshire village, far removed from the skirmishes of the South savouring a slow quiet life but maybe my judgement is all up the creek,  How do we banish news from our lives and do we have a right too?



Trivia news - tallow in five pound notes,  To those who complain just give up money!

                       Trump and family and the fantasy they live in!

News we should really be worried about; And above all caring.  Of course the list would get too long.

Aleppo and the whole of Syria, being beaten to death by opposing factions. I wept for that young teenager sobbing his heart out because his mother had just been killed by a bomb as they made their way out of the city on the 'exodus road', on the news last night. The bodies of other victims lie scattered around the road, what is the answer the UN man did not know he seemed in despair at the enormity of the tragedy that has displaced so many people into refugee camps.                  

                       

So many places in Africa, where starvation and sickness are the normal 'round' of the                           day, girls that are seized by rebel groups and taken into captivity/

The slow extinction of flora and fauna, whilst the world gobbles up all mineral resources.  The daily rape of jungles to destroy them and the wild life associated with them for the growing of palm trees for palm oil.   We should really put every biscuit package down with the word palm oil listed in its ingredients and just maybe fight at the tills for the creatures that are slaughtered in our names, the tuna fish and salmon. Just off a coast in America the orcas, or killer whales are starving to death because of lack of salmon.                                 

So once more the dreaded news  hits home, and I realise hating all the cruelty in the world will not stop it we are indeed helpless, less babies being born might help, the daily drudge of calling people to account for their deeds  also helps, but the images we see on our screens, the military  bullying of the indigenous people of Standing Rock so that an oil pipeline might be driven through their ancestral land, will also be found in places such as South America, as mines use slave labour to gain the materials for your computer or mobile phone.

Standing Rock, the barbarians at the gate?

Bill McKibben - Standing Rock is the Civil Rights issue of Our Time;

If you think protest is good, look at the military facing up to The Standing Rock Sioux Indians and fear for democracy, now more people are joining the protest, including war veterans.  To use the military and private security firms to force through the Dakota oil pipeline against the wishes of the indigenous people, brute force is being used.  But never forget that the piper calling the tune is those great oil companies that have an uncanny grip on world politics.

This is a battle not just between military and ordinary people, it is the need to for everyone to take control of the greed of a few and wrest our world back to a gentler backwater. 

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2016/nov/28/north-dakota-access-pipeline-evacuation-order-standing-rock


something different  Life on the Edge, this time the Fair Isles