So nothing much to report today, thank God! Went on my usual walk to the shops trying to ensure I was not run over by Co-op Lorries, BT Vans or Bin Lorries (they all look like beasts by the way quite cool really).
Managed to take couple of quick shots from my camera. There are some really sweer rainbows in windows and thank you signs to the NHS but I don’t want to take a photo of them because its not fare on the home owner to take a photo with out permission.
So I snapped the little flower above and it made me think life like light finds a way and off to the shop I popped.
I saw a feather on the ground too so caught a photo of it on my way back.
I wanted to get the bottom of the telegraph pole in to the photo to so it is tricky to see the little white feather at the bottom of the pole.
That then got me thinking about American Indian Totem Poles when I got back home
So I went onto google and typed in Indian Totem Pole and found an image that I had permission to adjust and share and found this.
The pole above is from Alogonquin Provincial Park Canada
Also I hope you have a very happy Mother Earth Day
For a change had a nice nights sleep last night after listening to some music before going to sleep. Have been shoping at a co-op store in Exeter purchase of the day was fair trade organic drinking chocolate to help me get to sleep on nights when I am struggling and having strange dreams and nightmares.
Lush and Tidy
It was a really nice walk this morning I went out nice and early though I still feel like I am running late. I am supposed to have logged on for work at 09:00am but it’s now 09:01. Oh well a few mins late won’t matter.
I have also found some great mems about light today so I will post one here.
Finley Quaye is the uncle of Tricky both are awsome
I saw Finley Quaye play in Cork many years ago when I went to Cork in Southern Ireland. My Dads side of the family is orignially from Cork have been there just once myself and it was quite a scary fiesty place that reminded me of Liverpool.
A couple of years ago in Exeter I met a homeless man from Dublin he was quite old and all he had was his travel suitcase. He was trying to settle by a supermarket. I could see he looked out of place as though he should not be there.
We got talking and he had ran out of money and needed help. He had an Irish state pension but did not get paid that night. He was in huge pain due to swelling in his feet to from what he said was a sevear beating he had taken in his youth that now meant walking was very painfull on swollen feet.
So I decided to get him to hospital and give him some money. I booked a taxi for him paid for the taxi directly with the driver when he arrived and then gave the man a £10 for his troubles and he went on his way.
I noramally wouId not have stopped or had money to give to him but I had just had a big win on the horses and so knew that giving £20 for him was neither here nor there to me and at that moment in time it meant the world to him.
I hoep that Dublin man is ok alive and has a roof over his head now.
How can you stay at home if you do not have one?
03/24/2020
By David Hennessy
The manager of a West London soup kitchen has expressed concern for homeless people who cannot get their usual help because of lockdowns everywhere.
Because they are “invisible and forgotten” they do not show up in statistics or GPs’ surgeries – meaning no-one knows how many of them are infected or how seriously.
Andrew McLeay said Ealing Soup Kitchen which he manages, for instance, has been unable to provide its usual Friday service because the church from which is operates has been locked down.
But the Salvation Army has been allowing their building to be used on Monday nights so the soup kitchen has been open one night a week for a takeaway service with minimal contact.
Ealing Soup Kitchen has been operating an outreach service to get food, clothes, tents, sleeping bags and other essential items to those most in need without putting anyone at risk of infection.
Mayor of London Sadiq Khan and the Greater London authority say they have rented 300 hotel rooms in the capital to temporarily take rough sleepers off the streets in the interests of wider public health.
But, said Mr McLeay, people who use services like his “will be forgotten” because they do not show up in any official statistics.
He told The Irish World: “People are saying they’re going to do stuff but we’re yet to see it.
“Apparently Julian Bell, the leader of the Ealing Council, is supposed to be helping sort out extending night shelters and things like that.
“(But) we’ve actually seen numbers rise and they don’t look like they’re going down.
“It really shouldn’t be so bad here – a posh, west London suburb – that 400 people have to come to a soup kitchen every week.
“If they were getting stuff done then we wouldn’t need to serve as many people – but we do.
“I’m just a little sceptical that they’re going to help the people that are really in most need.
Usual service: Mary Whelan O’Neill dishes out the soup prior to the Covid-19 lockdown.
“The government is saying they’re going to requisition hotels, or office spaces, for the homeless.
“(Then) last week they said they were going to do hostels as hospitals.
“Which is it? There’s so many mixed messages.
“What’s going to happen, inevitably, is that the homeless are going to get the short end of the stick because they always do.
“People don’t care about them. They’re not part of any official statistics a lot of the time so they don’t care. If they have to release data, it won’t mention them so it will seem as though they‘ve done a good job.
“It’s a mess.”
With the soup kitchen no longer able to feed people as normal, it also precludes them from carrying out their more important work of finding accommodation for people.
Losing its contact point – the soup kitchen – for their homeless clients means they cannot try to find accommodation for people on the streets, he said.
“The food is the thing that draws people in and it’s from that that we can get them housed and then get them back into society.
“That’s one of the biggest strengths of this charity and that arm’s been taken away because now we’re not able to open to do the housing stuff.
“They are the invisible people and they are the forgotten people. That’s a historical thing but it doesn’t have to be.”
“Homeless people and rough sleepers don’t go to GPs very often, how would they know if they have pre-existing medical conditions? We just don’t know.
“We have to be careful but at the same time we just don’t want to give up.
“It’s got to be trying to mobilise as many people as possible for as long as we can because we all know eventually the game will be up and everyone is going to be in proper isolation, and we won’t be able to leave our homes. I want to be as active as possible while we can be.”
She died alone and penniless in Torquay – until the true story of Secret Agent Rose’s wartime heroism made headlines around the world
Neighbours thought the quiet cat lady was a lonely Eleanor Rigby – but she turned out to be one of the heroines of WWII
‘Sisters, Secrets and Sacrifices’ was written about Eileen Nearne and her sister Jacqueline
Ten years ago a quiet old lady who loved cats died alone and penniless in her tiny flat in Torquay. At first her death did not seem remarkable and neighbours compared her to an Eleanor Rigby character.
But slowly it emerged that the elderly woman who liked to sit in the sun on a bench with her ginger cat was none other than Agent Rose, a wartime secret service heroine.
And instead of a so-called pauper’s funeral, Eileen Nearne’s story spread and made headlines around the world. She was buried with all the pomp and circumstance she deserved – including a memorial unveiled by Prince Charles three years later.
Ms Nearne’s service during the war was unknown by neighbours until photographs, documents and some ancient French currency were found at the 89-year-old’s flat in Lisburne Crescent.
Agent Rose aka Eileen Nearne
She was given a guard of honour at her funeral, which was attended by representatives from all the armed forces as well as the Consul General and military attaché from the French embassy in London.
It emerged that she was Eileen Nearne MBE, who had served as a radio operator under the codename ‘Rose’ and spent WWII being parachuted behind enemy lines for the UK’s Special Operations Executive into occupied France.
The Story of Agent Rose
Three times she was captured and held out against Nazi interrogators before eventually escaping. She died as a penniless recluse after being denied her wartime pension and suffering a lifetime of mental health problems caused by the trauma of water torture for which she was awarded the French Croix de Guerre.
Well its 08:37 here and I am awake and pleased I got some sleep last night. I thought I would do a little post about my God Father, he was in a band in Liverpool called the Mojos and they had a top ten hit too. He was the drummer in the band and his name was Bobby Conrad. Unfortunately the Legend that is Bobby is no longer with us as death took his soul through a battle with bowl cancer a number of years ago. He taught me so much about how to be a good man and I am honored to have known him.
Bobby is the one standing in front of the word everything.
Well from one Bob to another good one that makes me look like a DJ, next tune is from Bob Marley another legend that is no longer with us.
How cool is this
For the record officer I don’t smoke skunk, cannabis, dope or pollen I am not saying that others can’t it just wrecks my head so not good for me. Unlike Guinness I am ok with that which is Vegan too.
There are lots of people around the world that are substance abuser’s but I think this is more of a product of an abusive environment than an abusive addictive personality. Give a person a life opportunity and they would have better things to do than be an alcoholic or druggie.
I first moved to Spreyton in Devon when a child and as grockles we were very much welcomed into a magical village where my parents had many a happy year’s living among the natives. Spreyton has some claims to fame firstly the old hollowed oak in the church yard is said to be the center of Devon and secondly the parish of Spreyton is said to be where Uncle Tom Cobley set out from to travel with many a man to Widecombe fair (A spooky tail). The pub in Spreyton is called the Uncle Tom Cobley and my Dad has worked there for a time as a bar steward too.
Below is a BBC arts feature all about Uncle Tom Cobley and all…
Widecombe Fair is Devon’s most famous folk song, but what’s the origin of the story behind the famous characters Tom Cobley, Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Tom Pearse and his old grey mare?
The lyrics of Devon’s best known folk song tell a simple enough story – seven men and a grey mare set off for Widecombe Fair, but before completing their journey the old horse becomes sick and dies.
Delve deeper though and the history of the song becomes a little more muddled. Is this world famous ditty really steeped in Devon history and are the central characters based on real people?
Research carried out by the Widecombe and District Local History Group suggests that Tom Cobley and his friends were real people – probably from mid-Devon.
Most of the characters featured in the song had names which can be traced to families working in the Sticklepath and Spreyton area in the early 1800s.
“I’m convinced the characters were real people,” explained history group member Tony Beard.
“We found a sign at the Tom Cobley Tavern at Spreyton, which says all these characters left from outside that pub in 1802 to go to Widecombe.
“That’s the earliest date we’ve been able to find.
“The name Thomas Cobley was very popular in the Spreyton area.
“The one who fits the best died in 1844, aged 82 years. He lived at Butsford in the parish of Colebrook and is buried at Spreyton, just outside the south door of the church.
“When we were researching our book, we found relations of Thomas Cobley still alive.
“We went around lots of churchyards in mid-Devon and found Davys, Gurneys, Pearses and Stewers.
“All these names were from mid-Devon, so you can see how the song developed with all these local characters of that time co-opted into the song.”
In all likelihood people from mid-Devon would have travelled to the annual livestock sale at Widecombe at the end of every summer to trade their goods for sheep.
It’s this cross-country journey that is described in the lyrics of the song.
“In the Autumn all over Dartmoor there were a lot of fairs, these were for selling surplus livestock,” added Tony.
“The easiest thing for the people in the middle of Devon to do was come to these country fairs and buy the stock they wanted.
“You might think that Widecombe and Spreyton were miles away from each other, but if you follow the old country paths over the tops of the moors, the distance is only about 12 miles. That’s a reasonable distance to drive a flock of sheep or a herd of cattle.
“It was as a result of this that the song developed relating how this bunch of people travelled to Widecombe.
“It’s quite humorous and also quite sad because the poor old grey mare dies in the process.”
As the lyrics suggest, Tom Cobley and his friends ask Tom Pearse if they can borrow his grey mare to get to the fair. They agree that the horse will be returned by midday on Saturday.
When the horse isn’t returned, Tom Pearse sets out to find them. On reaching the top of Widecombe Hill he sees the horse making its will after which it falls sick and dies.
The song concludes with a description of the ghost of Tom Pearse’s grey mare which is said to appear ‘when the wind whistles cold on the moor at night’.
However some versions of the song have more than the standard eight verses and, depending on where it is sung, the words vary.
Tony Beard says this can be easily explained and is due to the song’s universal appeal.
“Over the years many people have used that song for village shows and adapted it using local names,” he said.
“Sometimes people have added an odd extra verse if there was something they wanted to incorporate in their village concert.
“There are versions that have popped up at different places. Being a Widecombe boy, I’m convinced they have taken Widecombe Fair and adapted it to suit their particular place.”
The ‘official’ version was originally published in 1890 by the Rev Sabine Baring-Gould, one of the first people to collect the music and lyrics of traditional English folk songs.
“It was the Rev Baring-Gould, who used to go around listening to folk songs, he was the first man who actually wrote the music down,” explained Tony.
“His version of the song was recorded in his book ‘Songs of the West’ which was published in 1890. That is the version that we’d like to stick with as the model.”
Since then, the song Widecombe Fair has travelled across the world – taken to distant shores by people who emigrated from the West Country.
Over the years, the song and the fair has inspired postcards, books, and the Devon Regiment of Volunteers supposedly marched to the song’s tune in 1899 during the Boer War.
The History of Widecombe Fair is written by The Widecombe and District Local History Group and published by Orchard Publications. The illustrations on this page are used with their kind permission.
The Lyrics
Tom Pearse, Tom Pearse, lend me your grey mare, All along, down along, out along, lee, For I want for to go to Widecombe Fair, With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawke, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.
And when shall I see again my grey mare? All along, down along, out along, lee, By Friday soon, or Saturday noon, With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawke, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.”
Then Friday came, and Saturday noon, All along, down along, out along, lee, But Tom Pearces old mare hath not trotted home, With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawke, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.”
So Tom Pearse he got up to the top o’ the hill All along, down along, out along, lee, And he seed his old mare down a-making her will, With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawke, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.”
So Tom Pearse’s old mare, her took sick and died, All along, down along, out along, lee, And Tom he sat down on a stone, and he cried With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawke, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.”
But this isn’t the end o’ this shocking affair, All along, down along, out along, lee, Nor, though they be dead, of the horrid career Of Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawke, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.”
When the wind whistles cold on the moor of a night All along, down along, out along, lee, Tom Pearse’s old mare doth appear gashly white, With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawke, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.”
And all the long night he heard skirling and groans, All along, down along, out along, lee, From Tom Pearce’s old mare in her rattling bones, With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawke, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.”
last updated: 27/06/2008 at 10:05 created: 28/05/2008
Just had a massive man mountain of a man drive up outside my flat, huge double hardcore you know the score kind of guy. I was a little nervous at first as he could eat me for breakfast if he chose to but I do not think that is his intention. He drove further down the road outside my place and then got out and did a little walking around. For all I know he was doing his sanctioned daily walk.
To close to heaven while to far away
I do worry sometimes that this blog puts me life in danger due to the views that I hold, every fecker is a critic, it just does not matter what you do or say.
Hope on the day that you read this that you have had a good day. Right now I feel like a little hobbit. I had heard that Tolkein had based his ideas around the hobbitts around the welsh. But to be honest he should have meant Devonians as they are a better collective and when they let Grockles like me settle in their shire it really is an honor to live here. Sometimes I feel like Frodo waiting for Sauron to come knocking at the door and ask me for his ring back. I would simply reply that I had chucked it in a bin years ago you will never find it now go do some litter picking you Fecking Muppet.
Just been on the phone to my mum and we have been discussing funeral arrangements for when we die.
I won’t tell you what she wants because that is private.
Basically I don’t really have anything of value a phone a pc, a wooden dreser with some uncle tom cobley and all items on it and a flat full of stuff. No one would need any of that crap thought I hope it goes to a new good home still.
I don’t care what music I get don’t even mind too much of no one makes it to a funeral. But I would like to be buried in a cardboard coffin if possible on a nature reserve owned by the Devon Wildlife Trust so that my body could go back to the earth.
Tidy and Lush
I have also asked if we could find a way of funding this site so as to be a dedication to my memory and the memory of my family similar to how Anne Franks Diary was in honor of her life.
Blooming Nora what a morning. I decided to update my bank account details so that I get paper accounts from them again. You try going back from digital to paper and its an absolute nightmare. I just think it’s a win win. If the paper comes from sustainable forests, then the printers have something to print, the woodlands have economic value to their wood. Also the Postman has something to post to me.
Plus I am forgetting what my login details are for my bank account so when I buy a new computer and move it to a new web browser such as Brave (which I highly recommend along with Firefox as a backup to log you in when Brave wont work) Microscum or Googly digital data sharing means are just to dam big and we should never have a monopoly supplier in the digital world because if your account gets hacked or your phone or computer hacked they have access to everything, yes I know scary or what.
So I tried moving back to paper billing with my bank and the dam thing locked me out. I had a message to say phone customer service to change password, which I did I asked them if I could keep my password and they said no and the only way to change it was online. SMMMMMMMMMMMEEEEGggg HEADDDddds
That is a Red Dwarf reference of Kriten trying to swear if your not familiar. The first episode of that programme is entitled the end! How odd. It’s a very funny show.
So I know have bank papers to deliver to my home plus a change of my digital password.
Then went to the newpaper shop to get again your smart thsi morning a newspaper. Independent for Saturday and Sunday today.
Also went to bakers and again to get some baked goods they were still selling hot cross buns so grabbed a pack.
On my way back I saw some graffiti.
Home is where your heart is very apt.
Then when walking back to my home just round the corner from the graffiti I saw this cheeky little monster.
I went and had a closer look and well what do you know.
Well Exeter is not in favor of the minions expressing themselves.
Tune
Vive La Revolution down wit the Digital Dictator!!! On the battle of Living organisms I’m a manic organic not a digital death dealer!!!
A late update to this post. This is a rare close up of my bro look at those eyes so soulful and magical.
The age of love and life or digital deletion YOU decide.
I am in contact with so many people at the moment, through this website, the phone, Email, YouTube, Facebook LinkedIn & finally my favorite which is Twitter (an awesomely powerful means of networking) I have also been search for some more images of my brother Andrew and found some little gems. I’m doing this as a journal for me and my family really, so long as I have money to pay for this website then I honor his memory and express my perception on this crazy little rock called earth. So for as long as I can afford to pay for this site his image can be seen down here among us earthlings as we warm are hearts around a digital fire that is the World Wide Web of Dreams, Hope and Fears.
Here is Andy at Poldark mine where he used to do Ghost Tours and paranormal investigations.
We sorted out some other photos of him and me too when we were growing up.
He was the king I was the Muppet left holding the bear.
On holiday in France here I think with my my Mum and my Grandpa and Andy behind me, the closer I look at the photo and yes it is definitely France because I am drinking Orangina.
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