A little light relief. Remembering Cable Street. Disturbances here and there in the here and now.

 In our increasingly violent and dangerous world, we need some things to cheer us up. (Having said that, I am aware that we live in a very peaceful bit of the Uk, if we discount occasionally noisy traffic.) So here are some strangely amusing wildlife pictures.

And here is a cartoon in praise of books and quietly critical of our society.

On this day, 4 October 1936, Oswald Mosley's British Union of Fascists planned to march through a predominantly Jewish section of East London, instead the Battle of Cable Street occured. The fascists were met by over 100,000 local residents and workers who – insistent that 'They shall not pass!' – fought both the blackshirts and the police protecting them, forcing the march to be abandoned. 

And we’re still fighting fascism today,

In France the lycée students are still causing chaos.

“France to keep up to 500 schools closed on Monday

The education minister says 400- 500 high schools will remain partially or fully shut following a week where riot police clashed with high school students as protests on classroom conditions have spread nationwide.

Lessons will be “totally or partly suspended” given the unrest, says Education Minister Edouard Geffray.

He said 24 schools had been “burned or ransacked” since the start of the movement.

At least 5,000 people, mainly teenagers, have been arrested while dozens of people, including students and teachers, have been injured. Unions are calling on teachers to strike.”

Meanwhile, in Spain ten of thousands of people have taken to the streets of Madrid ⁠and other Spanish cities as they step up demands for action to tackle ⁠a mounting housing crisis ⁠after government measures were struck down by the opposition.”

It seems the Europe is just revolting!

We had a lot of trouble with wildfires earlier in the summer. Today I read this:

“The government quietly scrapped plans to prepare the countryside in England for wildfires, it has been revealed. This was despite new data showing fire crews do not have the proper protective gear to tackle them.”

And the firemen, much praised, had inadequate protective gear apparently. Here’s a link to an article about it.

We’ve been revising our Portuguese. Or rather, we have been trying once again to acquire some mastery of that language, listening to CDs and podcasts and the like. I must have said many times that I can read the language, helped by my knowledge of other Latin based languages, and I can work put how to express ideas and make enquiries, but listening to the spoken language still remains hard. We’ll keep on trying. 

Now, all the various language programmes tell us that Brazilian Portuguese is easier to understand. But according to this article Brazilians in Portugal are discriminated against because of their language. This is “glottophobia”. I am rather surprised as I had always admired the Portuguese for their skills in English, for example, a consequence of their watching foreign films in the original  version, rather than dubbed into the local language, as happens in Spain and Italy. Life is full of surprises.

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone.

Blue sky days. Oktoberfest and tapas - holiday food nostalgia. And spam communication.

It’s fine blue sky day today, a good day to be out and about. Also a good day to hang the washing outside to dry.

It’s October and consequently lots of places are advertising their Oktoberfest. According to something I read, “The original Oktoberfest was held in Munich in 1810 to celebrate the wedding of Crown Prince Ludwig of Bavaria, later King Ludwig I, and Princess Therese of Saxe-Hildburghausen. It involved a horse race and a five-day party; the latter was such a hit it has been repeated every year since – except during wars and pandemics – and now lasts more than two weeks. Despite the name, Oktoberfest mostly takes place in September (19 September to 4 October this year).”

And now in cities all over the UK enterprising people are organising similar events, with lots of beer and German style food, kn much the same way that pubs and restaurants serve “tapas”.

I’be never been to the Oktoberfest in Bavaria. Nor have I been to an Oktoberfest in the UK. I have been to restaurants her serving “tapas” and I know they don’t really resemble what is served in Sam Sebastian or Santiago de Compostela, where a vast array os small tasty items are displayed on the counter and you select one of two to accompany your glass of wine. Usually the tasty items are speared on toothpicks and when you leave they count up the toothpicks and charge you accordingly. Or at least that’s what used to happen. It’s a while since I spent an evening going round the bars of the old quarter of those cities. Nowadays they might well just clock everything up on a tablet.

The pub next door to us doesn’t serve “tapas” as such but you can order “small plates” which is effectively the same thing as when you order stuff off a “tapas” menu in a central Manchester restaurant, for example.

I was going to comment on how the British like to recreate something they enjoyed on holiday - Spanish tapas, the Italian gelateria, the German Oktoberfest - but it’s not really so unusually British. How many Irish pubs have you come across in Spain and Portugal? In Figueira da Foz in Portugal we discovered a very British pub, of the old fashioned kind, called The Fogg. Then there are “hamburgueserías” serving American-style hamburgers just abput everywhere, if you want something more than the stuff served by the ubiquitous MacDonalds. 

It’s quite odd how many people go away on holiday, often to strange and exotic places, and don’t want to eat the strange and exotic food eaten by the locals. Of course, what you should do is try the local food and maybe seek out a recipe so that you can replicate at home something you enjoyed while away. Or you can just make note of the ingredients and hope that what you produce in similar to the original. I have done this with interesting ways of serving fish. And I now have my own version of Portuguese “ovos totos”. 

I’ve just had-yet another phone call from an unknown number, one of those calls where honeyed tones tell me: “we have a part-time job opportunity for you”. Really? Was I looking for a job? Of course not. I”m fortunate enough to have an adequate pension. This happens crom time to time!but it could be worse, accotsing to this cartoon by Madeline Horwath on the birthday greetings that nobody wants:-

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!

Friday morning awards. Student protests,. And a bit of art appreciation.

 This morning i got up ridiculously early, considerably earlier than the time that my alarm usually rings. I was even sufficiently disciplined only to snooze my alarm once and then dragged my reluctant body from bed. By 8.15 I was on a bus headed for the smallest grandchildren’s school, where one of them was about to receive a certificate of some kind. The later bus would not have got me to the school on time.

The school has a weekly “awards assembly” where they celebrate children’s birthdays and where class teachers award certificates for good work good behaviour and kindness, intended no doubt to reinforce such behaviour and encourage it in those who do not behave so of their own accord.

I was greeted on the bus by a small girl, Grandson Number Two’s small friend and Thursday bus travel companion. They regularly head for the baxk of the bus where they kneel on the seat and cause havoc as they comment loudly on the cars which follow the bus - angry cars, happy cats, grumpy cars, impatient cars, an amazing bit of imaginative play. This morning, little Alice was simply exclaiming excitedly as the rattly bus went over speed bumps.

Our small boy received  his teacher’s learning award for “showing a fantastic love of learning during our microhabitat hunt. You were curious, enthusiastic and excited to explore the world around you, asking thoughtful questions and sharing your own ideas. Well done!”

This is the child who can be a reluctant reader and gets grumpy if bored but who displays a veritable encyclopaedic knowledge of things science- and bug’n’beetles-related. He also has artistic flare. If school consisted soleybof science and craft, he would be delighted!

Coincidentally his small friend Alice also recieved an award for always being emthusiastic, helpful, kind and cheerful! Her mother was delighted, as much for her small daughter’s award as for the fact that the small friends both won certificates!

In France, much older pupils have been protesting about overloaded tiemetables, overcrowded classes, insufficient teachers and … unbearable temperatures during the heatwaves. That last grievance is perhaps a bit unreasonable but so it goes. In what seems like classic French fashion, riot police have been deployed to confront the increasingly violent protests. Some 3,000 lycée students have been detained since the start of the increasingly violent protests. They have a kind of tradition of such student protests in France. I remember May 1968!

Now, this is an art installation in Farnham in Surrey. Its official title is “A Hand’s Turn”. 

The cones, which measure up to 8ft tall, and are intended to symbolise “the enduring role of hands in craft for thousands of years”. However it is also referred to as the “Madonna bra sxulptures”.

It’s had to be moved to a shadier location as the cones heat up in the sun and children have burned their hands on them apparently. One of the artists who created the installation is pleased with its new location and commented, “They are intended to be played with, hugged and even the unintended percussive ability they provide is great fun.

“What a special place Farnham is for its commitment to craft and community. Farnham didn’t give up on the cones, so neither will I”.

There you go!.

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!

Odd seasons. Old friends. Intolerance in football.

 Yeaterday began with torrential rain. I set off for Manchester in my raincoat to meet some old friends for lunch. By he time I reached the tram stop in Oldham the rain had more or less stopped. By the time I got to Manchester the sun was trying to shine.

I met my old friends, we put the world to rights and made our way to an Italian trattoria that one of my friends had noticed on her way to our meeting point in Waterstone’s cafe. We had some very good pasta and a glass or two of wine while we reminisced and put the world a little more to rights. 

When we left the trattoria in the mid-afternoon we all felt decided overdressed with our raincoats. Girls were out and about in cropped tops and shorts. Goodness, this was the last day of September.

After I returned hoe, Phil and I went for an early-evening stroll round the village, admiring the blue sky.

And then as the sun disappeared over the hill, the temperature plummeted. We need a new name for the season as it seems to include summer and autumn - possibly sumtober- not to:mention hints of winter in the late evening!

I hear that Jurgen Klopp is disgusted by suggestions that his German team is “not white enough”. Oh boy!

“The barrage of racist and generally offensive commentaries on social media followed Germany’s 1-0 defeat by Greece last Sunday, in the Nations League, marking the first time Greece had beaten Germany.

It is also reflective of plenty of utterances from MPs of the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), the largest opposition party in the Bundestag, who have repeatedly and consistently criticised the diversity and ethnic makeup of the national team, often referring to the squad in derogatory terms such as a “politically correct mercenary force”.”

But he has been quite restrained. 

“Asked to respond to the debate as to whether the national team were “not German enough” or “not white enough”, he said: “There is absolutely no reason to pay attention to these people. You won’t get my thoughts on this. I have little time in everyday life for idiocy – and even less on social media.

“The great crux of our lives is that everyone is allowed to express their opinion … it’s insane when something like that exists.””

The world grows crazier by the day.

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!

Invited out to breakfast. Anti-immigration riots - an old problem!

 Granddaughter Number Two treated me to breakfast this morning. From time to time she likes to organise some kind of grandmother-granddaughter event. She’s been trying to organise us a day out In York but the train service from here to York has been disrupted lately. So last night she phoned and proposed that I hop on the bus at the crossroads, the bus she would be travelling on from her house, and we could go to a local farm that has branched out into a cafe and a farm-shop. So that’s what we did. 

She had a bacon sandwich, one of her favourite things, while I had a toasted fruit teacake. I had my usual coffee whereas she had a strange concoction with caramel and maple syrup, calling itself a latter! I tried it. It was quite tasty as hot drinks go but definitely should not be included in a list of “coffees”!  

I bought local honey in the farm-shop and spotted items I must go back for as possible Christmas presents for various members of the family. Christmas fever has started earlier than ever this year. Pubs have notices reminding people to book for Christmas dinners and a travel agency in Uppermill has a big notice advertising a day trip to York to visit the Christmas markets. York gets crowded with tourists at the best of times so the prospect of Christmas markets as well is quite horrific. 

As you can tell, I am not a great fan of christmas markets! 

Here’s a story, from this article, which demonstrates how long-standing the problem of immigration has always been:

“On 30 April 1517, the eve of the annual May Day festival, an angry crowd of more than 1,000 people marched through London protesting at the city’s immigrant population. Xenophobia was rife in Tudor England. Although foreigners, known as “strangers”, made up just 6% of the city’s population, they were often considered a malign presence: “Libertynes, drunkards, murderers, thieves and Conspirators,” in the words of one chronicler.

As darkness fell, the mood turned ugly. Thomas More, under-sheriff of London, appealed to the crowd to turn back. But his entreaties went unheard. The mob surged through the streets sacking the shops and houses of French, Italian and Flemish merchants and craftsmen. Only after an army was called out, leading to scores of arrests and over a dozen executions, was order returned.

Evil May Day, as the riot came to be known, was not quickly forgotten.”

Shakespeare may have written about in a play called Sir Thomas More, a collaboratively written play that survives only in a single manuscript. The play is thought to have been written primarily by Anthony Munday, perhaps, some scholars think, aided by Henry Chettle, in the 1590s, with somewhat later contributions from Thomas Dekker, perhaps from William Shakespeare, and just possibly from Thomas Heywood.

Sir Isn McKellen Introduced a monologue from the play, a momologue cloed The Strangers’ Case, with these words:

“It’s all happening 400 years ago. In London, there’s a riot happening. There’s a mob out in the streets and they’re complaining about the the presence of strangers in London, by which they mean the recent immigrants who’ve arrived there. And they’re shouting the odds and complaining and saying that the immigrants should be sent back home wherever they came from. And the authorities send out this young lawyer, Thomas More, to put down the riot, which he does in two ways. One by saying that you can’t riot like this. It’s against the law. So, shut up, be quiet. And also, being by Shakespeare, with an appeal to their humanity.”

And now I’ve found the speech, I think:

Grant them removed, and grant that this your noise

Hath chid down all the majesty of England;

Imagine that you see the wretched strangers,

Their babies at their backs and their poor luggage,

Plodding to the ports and coasts for transportation,

And that you sit as kings in your desires,

Authority quite silent by your brawl,

And you in ruff of your opinions clothed;

What had you got? I’ll tell you: you had taught

How insolence and strong hand should prevail,

How order should be quelled; and by this pattern

Not one of you should live an agèd man,

For other ruffians, as their fancies wrought,

With self same hand, self reasons, and self right,

Would shark on you, and men like ravenous fishes

Would feed on one another.

[...]

Say now the king,

As he is clement if th’offender mourn,

Should so much come too short of your great trespass

As but to banish you, whither would you go?

What country, by the nature of your error,

Should give you harbor?

Go you to France or Flanders,

To any German province, to Spain or Portugal,

Nay, anywhere that not adheresto England,

Why, you must needs be strangers: 

would you be pleased

To find a nation of such barbarous temper,

That, breaking out in hideous violence,

Would not afford you an abode on earth,

Whet their detested knives against your throats,

Spurn you like dogs, and like as if that God

Owed not nor made not you, nor that the elements

Were not all appropriate to your comforts,

But chartered unto them, what would you think

To be thus used? 

This is the strangers’ case;

And this your mountainish inhumanity.

Maybe we need another Shakespeare to plead the case for a little more  tolerance and humanity in the modern world.

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!