On the last day of our membership of the European Union, we went along in the evening to listen to talk on birdsong. I was fascinated with one bird that imitates the songs of other birds to give the impression there is much more than one bird occupying a particular territory, and so ‘better keep off’. I asked a question ‘ why robins knew when I even picked up a fork and work in cooperative attendance when I start doing their work for them and revealing lovely juicy worms in freshly dug round’.
Robins seem exceptionally tame and have lost their fear of humans. It was a jolly enough evening with about 30 people in attendance in Midsomer Norton Town Hall. I saw one or two people there who sat on their own, not really summoning up the guts or the energy to talk to other people. Who knows what is going on in their minds? Perhaps it is lack of confidence.
On Monday evening I will have a chance to give a three-minute talk to the town council about their proposal to declare a state of climate emergency. I don’t think people want to realise that scientists and politicians (and anybody really) can be bought off. If you are given a large grant by a corporation you are going to come to the conclusion that they want you to come to. The carbon dioxide gravy train is huge, some say the profits could be $6 trillion a year so why not spend a few billion on propaganda?
Today I received an article about a group of Finnish researchers who said that anthropogenic (human caused) climate change could only account for 0.01%C increase in global temperatures. I think I’ll throw that at the meeting on Monday. Basically, people don’t want to think afresh and be disturbed from their comfort zones so I am going to get some flack …..so what’s new. Whatever you say, some will agree, some will disagree, someone like you, someone not like you.
We are blessed with mild weather and Saturday is forecast to be sunny and on that day we shall go off to Glastonbury to celebrate the first stirrings of spring.
Every so often I attend the men’s group, which is called Men’s United, which has various branches in this area and the branch I went to today was in Frome. I drove there in complete darkness under a moonless sky thinking that this was one of the last times I was going to drive my current Volvo car before picking up a new one on Sunday.
We had a jolly crowd of about 45 men who by the way meet about four times a year. This time we had testimony from two people, one held a very senior position in the Navy as part of his career of 38 years. Christianity is evidently encouraged in the Navy (or was 30 years ago)and he told us one or two amusing stories about how people behave in response to this. The captain of a ship has many powers and he told us of a ship where the captain was a Christian and used to lead the services and make sure everybody attended.
He met his wife when he was in his teens, and found to his delight that she was a baptised and confirmed member of the church. I think it was the Congregational Church. They married shortly after and have been together ever since. One particularly touching moment was when he said that when they say the Lord’s Prayer during a church service they always hold hands. He felt sympathy for those couples where one had faith and one did not.
The evening had to be conducted in a rather military way. We arrived at 7 PM for 7:30 PM and helped ourselves to drinks. The meal which was a buffet had to last no longer than half an hour to enable the speakers to speak. This took until about nine o’clock. We then had 15 minutes of questions and then for some reason we had to be out of the room at 9:30 PM.
These are called curry nights. The curry served was to put it midly ‘bland’. I’m getting quite good at telling if someone has any feel for the food they are preparing. The fact that someone is dressed like a cook in a fancy hat and white overalls means nothing if he hasn’t a clue what he’s doing. We were served with white rice, the least nutritious and the cheapest of the varieties of rice, poppadoms, and the Curry.
Because it was so unlike a curry I’ve had before I examined the contents and found it was basically a vegetable stew with bits of cheapest cut chicken of the supermarket variety plus a few bags of mixed vegetables from the supermarket Iceland. You would have been served this in a school canteen. There may or may not have been some curry powder added but I could not taste it. When you are cooking a meal for 45 you need to put quite a lot of curry powder in. The whole thing was tasteless and in addition I suffered for it later because I’m very sensitive to chemicals, alas, and I couldn’t get home fast enough to take a dose of bicarbonate of soda.
The problem about complaining is that we are quite lucky to get a venue. Normal restaurants will not accommodate us and other people do not like irregular bookings so although I could have ranted and raved at the time, and I certainly have done here, I think the best thing to do is to keep my mouth shut and smile. I always enjoy such occasions, but with a little bit of extra effort the eating experience could have been so much better. We were paying the kitchen seven pounds a head and for that I think we could have been entitled to quite a bit more. <rant over>
Françoise and I were invited to Bristol to meet two of our relatives, Ken and Pat, who live slightly to the north of Bristol, and have done so for the past 40 years in the same house.
The bus journey from our locality was a little bit different to say the least. The bus was 10 minutes late – normally it’s on time to the minute – this was due to an oversize vehicle being shepherded along in front, thus limiting the speed. A combination of roadworks and traffic congestion meant we arrived 2 minutes after the connecting bus was leaving from Bristol bus station to take us to our final destination. Since I hate being late I decided to spend £10 on getting a taxi and we eventually arrived 3 minutes after midday, the appointed time. Such is my reputation for punctuality that I was greeted with “what time do you think this is then?” This was taken in good humour.
We chatted about local things, including the fact that mothers from a local school who scarcely know how to drive their 4×4’s use the cul-de-sac where they live as a free parking zone during drop-off and pickup of their children.
Our host’s house has been burgled three times – admittedly during a 40 year period – but three times too many so far as they were concerned. On one occasion, the very methodical burglar unscrewed the window and put the screws in a neat row before calmly walking through the empty frame and stealing things and that when the couple were upstairs. You could describe that as cheeky. It was the one time when they forgot to put the burglar alarm on.
It is a good bonus when a sense of humour is shared. Conversation is much easier and you can tease each other and make jokes at each other’s expense without any offense. It was in this manner that we spent a couple of happy hours chatting away.
We left after lunch to have a meeting with three people from the stop 5G group in Bristol. They are doing a recording for the local community radio station. They were trying to assemble enough information and features to interest and intrigue the listeners. When I arrived, they had more than enough to keep them going, but there is no harm in having a large pool of information from which one can draw. I said there’s a limit to the amount of planning you can do and you have to decide what are the most important features.
I think you can over-plan something. The interview is not supposed to be the Gettysburg address. It should be a starter to a conversation, the stimulus for people to think about important matters, a challenge to those who are complacent without, of course, telling them it is a challenge. I promised to write a summary and send it by 7 PM this evening which I have done and hopefully it will benefit the quality of the interview.
I love visiting the untidy crazy areas of Bristol and the last part of this journal is a picture gallery, which hopefully is self explanatory.
Oh, and this is a lovely art installation I saw on TV this evening which was featuring Venice.
The seller is a semi-retired car dealer now working part time for a hobby. It is most important to have a look at a seller’s record on eBay. In his case, 100% of people were satisfied and gave him the highest rating. He has done nothing to dispel this. I had to send £100 deposit to secure the car and if I arrive and find there is something majorly wrong or it is not as described in the ad. I get my money back. He has told me that he always takes his cars for a drive to tease out any problem that might be there.
Since I’m buying an almost identical car to my own, I don’t think there will be much difficulty. I did not know that the MOT history of any UK registered car can be found easily using this link. I shall change over the battery because I bought a battery from the RAC one year ago with a five-year guarantee. It cost £120 so I don’t want to lose the value of that.
On this occasion, the universe has certainly assisted me. I remember that when I was told that my Volvo should be consigned to the graveyard in the sky, I wasn’t the remotest bit troubled, even for a second, it was as if I knew it anyway. I think if you keep in the groove, in the zone of your destiny, then nothing will trouble you though I’m not saying you won’t have troubles. I am due to complete purchase of the car at 10 o’clock on Sunday morning. I must go along the bank and draw some out every day because you can only take a certain amount of cash out of the bank at any one time.
To the seller’s credit, he offered to deliver the car to my house but I thought that would put us under too many obligations so I thanked him and decided that we would make the journey to his base to view and pick up. He told me that we could have as long test drive as we wished which adds to my confidence. I remember when I saw the car advertised on eBay. It drew me and there was a sort of negation of time and space, a feeling of inevitability, and this was the car waiting for me.
I’m writing this in faith because for all I know the venture will fail, but it does look very positive at the moment and our dowsing found 8/10 for the car and 8/10 for the transparency of the seller. You can’t hope for more than that in this world.
Dowsing is a most useful skill and it has not let us down so far. It’s a type of remote view but then if you understand consciousness, nothing is ‘remote’.
There was a lovely piece in today’s English ‘I’ newspaper
“fake skeleton in hat used as passenger”
A driver in Arizona has been caught trying to disguise a fake skeleton as a passenger so he could use a high – occupancy vehicle lane. The 62 – year – old was pulled over when an official noticed the skeleton, which was wearing a hat and tied to the passenger seat with yellow rope. The driver was given a penalty ticket.
I just love these little stories that like my day and remind me how ingenious people are in trying to get round the system. I did need my day made happy because I went along to my local garage because there was a suspicious knock coming from the nearside front. For some reason, the garage thought I wanted an MOT. I was given the MOT and my beloved Volvo gloriously failed; the mechanic said that I was wasting my time having repairs and it would better to have a new car. This may have been a blessing in disguise.
However, worse was to come. I was informed that the mechanic, having completed the MOT, automatically put a note through to the vehicle licensing authority. Does that mean that my car is no longer able to be driven? Someone who was with me in reception said that the failure would not come into effect until the other valid MOT had finished which in my case is at the end of March so I may get away with it. Maybe not.
I am a Volvo man. I have been for the past 20 years. I do not intend to change. This will be my fifth example if I buy another one. In my life, I have never paid more than £1250 for a car. I like old cars because they don’t have the electromagnetic soup that the new cars have rather like having a mobile phone on all the time in your vicinity.
I went on eBay and fairly quickly found a car available locally for £1595 with only 91,000 on the clock. That is about my price range but I will try and beat him down a little. The car is within striking distance and much better than the trouble of collecting a car from Wirral, Birmingham, Essex, Scotland etc. I don’t want to spend the whole day driving somewhere with the risk that the whole venture on inspection would not be viable. As I write, I sent an e-mail to the seller, who appears to be a dealer, to see what he has to say. He wrote back and it seems is willing to do business.
Today is the first International Day of Protest against 5G. There was a planned demonstration in Bristol on College Green so after some procrastination, we decided to go. Bristol is hopeless for parking so we did our usual thing and caught the 376 bus from Farrington Gurney to Bristol bus station.
On the way, we popped into an art shop, almost evangelical in its approach. As you will see from the terms in the image they are totally dedicated to art and indeed were doing a roaring trade.
We arrived on College Green to find something else going on entirely.There was a demonstration or was it a rally by a small group of people who were drawing attention to the large number of deaths, over 4000 a year, from people who overdosed on drugs.
Who would dream that such a nice looking chap obviously talented and enthusiastic about life could die through a drug overdose
The accompanying website is anyoneschild.org Small flags reminiscent of poppies were laid out as a reminder of the number of people who had died. A number of people made speeches, including the deputy mayor and a representative of the Cathedral who led us all in prayer. I don’t know how many of us are comfortable with talking about drug overdoses. I guess it’s something that I want to pretend does not exist, so it was a wake-up call to me to be more alert to circumstances that might lead to self harm.
The 5G gang, about 20 people, were assembled on one corner of College Green by the road, thus hoping to catch more people. I did not feel entirely comfortable giving out leaflets but Françoise, who was with me did so with some enthusiasm. Most people were either not interested or said that they did not feel that 5G was in any way harmful. The problem is that Bristol is the technical city that serves the South West so a large number of people are involved in IT so I wouldn’t expect many enthusiasts.
Most people on Saturday morning were on a mission, in a hurry, and did not even want to stop and consider. I should have thought along my meter which would have shown people the effect on EMF radiation when a mobile phone is used but I think that had I bought it along there would not have been that much opportunity to demonstrate. If I go to another demo I will try it.
Anyway, we put in an appearance. Hopefully, a few passers by will be triggered to think and reconsider their position. This is a real David and Goliath situation with billions of pounds of investment throughout the world so the left brain says that a group of people standing around talking to others for a couple of hours will make no difference. A blade of grass cannot see the lawn of which it is a part so maybe the cumulative effect will prevail but I suspect the reaction will be way down the line after people start getting ill.
During the time that Françoise was giving out leaflets I had left the group to its own devices and took a stroll around the Cathedral. It is by many standards a modern Cathedral, nearly 500 years old, compared with some of the other cathedrals. Wells is older. It was a lovely atmosphere.
I then went along to Bristol library. It is a major institution with not only books but newspapers, local records, sheet music, DVDs, and ample places to sit and work. I’m almost tempted to spend the day there in the reference library where I’m sure I will find concentration on reading much more than at home with its many distractions
We walked up Whiteladies road to have a salad and a soup for lunch. Afterwards we decided to go home and took the number 9 bus, apparently going in the right direction, marked ‘city centre’. This was a delusion. We did a 25 minute journey round the north of Bristol going in a figure of eight movement. 20 min after we left the bus stop we returned to the same road about 200 m down. We wrote the event off as a joke, as an opportunity to view the northern part of Bristol which we have never done before. We eventually arrived at the city centre and after running 200 yards we breathlessly caught the 15.35 bus with 1 min to spare.
At the stop at Bristol Temple Meads, a father got on with his son. The son who must have been 5 or 6 years of age was a brat if ever there was one. He wanted to sit in the front seat on the top deck and his remedy was to scream and I mean screaming. The only thing in his mind was that he wanted the seat. His father in vain said he could not have it because there were people occupying it. After a few minutes, the two young ladies occupying the front seat vacated their seats in an attempt to stop the screaming fit. The child moved and quietened down.
We felt the father had no authority and guessed that the father was looking after his child for the weekend having separated from the mother. The father did not appear to have any authority and was even mimicking the child in an effort to bridge the gap and ingratiate himself. So the child now knows that screaming brings a result – if he did not know that before. What sort of bad programming is that?
*****
Off to Farrington Gurney Village Hall to attend the Annual Supper of the Mendips story telling group. Storytelling is a dying art. I was always told stories at bedtime by my parents and looked forward to it. We have lost this art out of laziness and the degradation of our culture. The stories told this evening were between 10 and 15 min in length, always had a hook at the end and in most cases represented a world of magic; things appeared and disappeared, maidens wished for a handsome suitor and got more than they bargained for, and generally escapology of a therapeutic kind.
We had a pause at 9 PM for a cheese supper consisting of very good local cheese which agreed with my stomach unlike most cheeses, yummy bread, miniature tomatoes, miniature pork pies and other pies for vegans, together with a tub of apples.
We had as table companions two delightful people who had lived for 40 years in Cheddar and we discussed the local facilities. It was interesting they had not been to most of their local facilities, including the car boot fair, the famous pub that serves cider, the garden centre and we knew it better than they did. I think they were recluses, nothing wrong with that. However, the one thing that they did warm to was talking about their fascination with caves. Although they are senior, they go out caving quite regularly and I invited myself along to the next event. The husband, Tony, was interested in dowsing so that was something in common between us and he. We shall see what comes of it but if nothing does, it was still an entertaining evening. They recommended the Hunters Lodge Inn, Priddy BA5 3AR which is the local ‘step back in time’ hangout for Speleologists, in addition to their recommendation of good and reasonably priced food.
And so to bed. I ordered yesterday and received today via Amazon a food supplement called Night Sense which contains all sorts of wonderful things designed to settle the body and give a good nights sleep. The doctor had recommended melatonin but he cannot prescribe it. Nor could I get it from the local shop, so Night Sense was the best I could do. My goodness it did pack quite a punch so I decided to take it an hour before going to bed rather than the 30 min recommended.
Today I went to a private session in Bath presided over by the lady who practices Internal Family Systems which are designed to re-attach and reclaim those parts of the mind and spirit that may have broken away from each other, particularly during our development.
In order for me to work with someone I need to trust them and in this case it was easy to trust her because it was quite clear that the therapist had done work on herself because her aura was peaceful. Her voice was clear. The voice is but an instrument for the inner orchestra of thought if I can attune to this I am enabled to share on a deeper level, even if I do not know somebody at least in the commonplace use of that term.
I don’t mind sharing some of the work we did. I was encouraged to identify any particular age at which trauma or formative experience was identified. In my case I found the ages to be five and 11. I was asked to imagine that young entity standing in my proximity and I was asked how they felt and what their attitude was. I was able to identify certain characteristics, including the feeling of being frozen which I attributed to the need for independence and protection from those other people who might not have understood me at that time.
I was encouraged to have dialogue with my child and try to move forward. I can say that I did not feel understood and felt that this was a form of slow motion torture which I would rather be without and which lingers with me today as does the feeling of being criticized. Hopefully this will work through
I was able to assist the therapist by telling her in which parts of my body her words, were causing a reaction in. For example, the nerves under my left foot started to react fairly early on in the session, as did the space over my heart and under the rib cage. It is like receiving an electric shock. Over the years, I have learnt to identify and understand the meaning of these various reactions.
I find the same with acupuncture. I notice that when the acupuncturist puts pins in various parts of my body, I can feel pins being put in various other parts of the body even though the acupuncturist has been nowhere near them. The impression of the phantom needle is strong, almost stronger than the real thing whatever the word ‘real’ means.
I would like to think that astral entities or some higher consciousness are working with the acupuncturist to assist me my goal of becoming balanced.
I was asked what it feels like to be healed and normal. In my case, I don’t feel a separate entity at all and feel instead part of the universe. Someone said ‘hell is confinement in oneself‘. In moments of bliss, I feel I lose about half a stone. When I feel depressed. I feel heavy and when I feel happy I feel light. Funny that. After an hour the session finished.
I’m going back in March. The instruction was to talk to my identified separated entity every day no matter how briefly for a period of 21 days. I had always understood the lunar cycle to be more significance. I decided to do it for 28 days. At the end of the time I shall report back.
I had one terrible day today stomach-wise but did not quite put two and two together. I am / was suffering from withdrawal symptoms and that from such an innocuous medicine as omeprazole, which inhibits the stomach for producing too much acid (Proton Pump Inhibitors). After too long a time taking them on a regular basis I decided to stop, so yesterday and today I had no morning pill. However I did suffer, throwing up almost all my food and liquids to boot. I see the stomach as somewhat like the engine of a car – it is very central to so many things. When that goes wrong ‘you’ go wrong.
I was very comforted by reading on the Internet
The potential harm of useful drugs is that they have a tendency to be over-used. Anytime we use a chemical to manipulate the normal function of the body, there are going to be consequences. Chronic acid suppression is a good example. The body makes acid for a reason, and we are seeing a growing list of complications if we inhibit acid production long term (see table below).
Tapering off these medicines can be challenging as people can have symptoms for up to 10 to 14 days after discontinuation due to rebound hyperacidity. So, be sure to let your patients know that they may feel worse for a couple of weeks before their body readapts. This is a common quote I hear, “I tried to go off that medicine but my reflux came back with a vengeance, Doc.”
it seems the we need some sort of the bridge in order to successfully ween off this quite addictive medicine. I’m already tapering down the dose but noticed that my stomach pains actually increased. It felt in my case like a rock solid lump in the middle of my chest. I hardly knew who I was, felt depressed, and stumbled around. This is the body reducing its dependence so it is a good sign in a way. You can read the whole article here
How on earth people manage to recover from far more addictive drugs such as heroin God only knows, and what about those who stagger away from the pharmacy with a large paper bag with 10 different types of medication. I wonder how many people in this country, the United Kingdom, are addicted. What a way to go.
Another frosty morning but clear blue skies. I decided to go to the regular Tuesday morning coffee sessions at my church. There were only three of us there. When I arrived. The lady in charge for the morning had made three different types of cake. I should really have taken this early in the morning especially when I have had no breakfast but I cannot resist chocolate cakes so I had a small piece. People drifted in and when I left an hour later there were about 15 people there.
We have a new vicar who is called Adam Pitt. He is a local man and has four children of his own, the oldest is 14. He has two adopted children under two years of age. The fact that the vicarage as five bedrooms, most likely constituted part of his decision to move here. I’m told that he has a ten-year plan for the parish. He will be joining us after Easter when he has finished his training.
We discussed a homeless man who makes his home in an underground walkway by the supermarket. Evidently, he’s a very nice man, but an alcoholic. For this reason he cannot accept most of the food that is given to him but I don’t quite understand the logic here. The local population look after him as much as they can. Last night it was -2° but he said he felt quite warm. He’s an ex-Navy man and something happened with a woman who let him down, he flipped and he found himself on the street. He knows he has an alcohol problem, but says it’s the one thing that keeps him going and he admits he doesn’t have the will to do anything about it.
Apart from the usual weather discussion, we discussed tree pruning, I said that trees should normally be pruned during the latent season and this winter time is about right. I said you should never cut more than a third of the tree as it will be too much of a shock for it.
Among the gathering there was a lady called Phyllis, who is 98 years of age. She has always struck me as a very lively person. I was told that she was born the daughter of a farmer and during the second world war she was a land girl. She had left school at 15 and was expected to work maintaining the family home and also on the farm. At this age, she maintains her own garden, takes cutting etc and has a greenhouse full of plants. For 98 years of age that’s not bad at all. She still drives.
*****
Castle and Sun Paul Klee
I find on such occasions you have to put yourself out and make the effort to speak and although there may be moments of silence, no harm is done, and someone thinks of something to say and off we go. There is an art of conversation and a good part of this is listening to other people and taking them up on perhaps a very simple statement and encouraging a dialogue to start. Paul Klee “drawing is taking a line for a walk”. The same is true of conversations.
*****
a long-standing friend of mine has written me a letter entitled “don’t look for a scapegoat”. I enclose some of the more hopeful quotes from the letter.
The search for a scapegoat is the easiest of all hunting expeditions.
– Dwight D. Eisenhower
Never ascribe to malice that which is adequately explained by incompetence.
– Napoleon
Laws of nature do not make exceptions for nice people.
– Harold S. Kushner
There’s nothing so powerful as an idea that has reached its time. Yesterday evening I had quite a dreadful experience with my stomach. It was a solid bloated mess and I couldn’t figure out what combination of food had caused it. For example I’m trying a course of sodium bicarbonate which I am combining with omeprazole which is a PPI proton pump inhibitor. Even though they both do good when taken separately, I’m not quite sure if the combination itself is bad and they may well be fighting each other. I have written to the practitioner to enquire.
Françoise went off to do her day work with age UK and meanwhile I decided to do some tree pruning operations in the garden. We have a couple of old apple trees and I looked on the Internet and found a very affable American who explained exactly the principles behind tree pruning and the half-hour video really helped me to have the confidence to do the job. Off to the dump with the spoil. I met my friend Gary there and we had a chat about spiritual commitment and I made a comment that we could not change others if we were ourselves not changed.
There is a program on TV called ‘Something for Nothing’ where a lady called Sarah goes to a particular rubbish tip in Altrincham, Manchester to stop people throwing things away that could be made into works of art and sold at a profit. I saw a chap pointing to something in a woman’s car asking if he could have it. It was actually a plastic filing cabinet, which was exactly what I want in order to minimise the effect of electromagnetic fields, EMF, on my working environment. I’m suffering a lot and find it difficult to hold the mouse sometimes. Anyway, the chap took one but I noticed there was another one in her boot so I asked her if I could take it and she replied in the affirmative. I took it home to find that two of the wheels had broken bases but since I did not want to use the wheels anyway it didn’t matter.
Back to the allotment which is close by to the recycle centre. I have a problem with a man of about 80 years of old who has an allotment but cannot maintain it. He gave up half but I have a suspicion that he is unable really to give the whole lot up with all the work that it involves. The plot is a complete tip, with wire netting, poles, bamboo pieces all over the place. You have to be careful with proud Somerset men, remember this is mining country, so I wrote a letter asking if he was all right and asking if he wanted any help to restore his allotment. I have no problem in helping my tenants. If that does not work I will have to phone him.
Back home, and I wanted to take up the recommendation of a Functional Medicine practitioner who recommended that I get a particular medicament for my stomach. There was a help line on the website. I do not normally ask for help but on this occasion I did and I got through to someone called Robert, who was not so much interested in selling me the item but explaining the possible causes.
One cause was a possible trauma or traumas that could have triggered a disturbance in the stomach. He recommended going to see someone who could perhaps help me to detect what it was that caused me to dissociate a certain part of my experience. I made the contact and got an appointment with someone who had just had a cancellation so at 3.45 PM this Thursday I shall be exploring this avenue. He also mentioned someone called Wim Hof, who helps the body alkalize through correct breathing. You can find his very impressive breathing tutorials on you Tube.
I definitely feel better at the moment and am reminded of the old phrase that when the student is ready, the master will appear. I feel also that it sometimes takes a drama to precipitate us into making a move forward.
We had another wonderful sunny day today with no cloud in the sky above. I feel a hundred percent better than I did first thing this morning when I got so desperate I rang the Dr. He was helpful and positive but sometimes the answers lie outside allopathic medicine.
Another cold night, an excuse for lighting our log fire and sitting in front of it watching TV.
We are looking for places that would constitute a bolthole, a way of avoiding electromagnetic fields which do so much harm to the human biology never mind the psychology. We recently received a map from sky TV showing which regions had had the 5G mobile network switched on and we found that Batcombe, a small village in Somerset, was not in this category, so on a wonderfully bright and sunny day with blue skies we set off. We arrived on the stroke of midday. I know that because the local church clock, that of the Blessed Virgin Mary, struck 12 on the dot.
This church, situated in the middle of the village and of Saxon origin, is a beautiful example of simplicity and unpretentious style. It has Norman, Jacobean and modern influences in his building. We enter, just as the morning service was finishing. We understood that it was a visiting priest who had just conducted the service. People were standing in groups having a chat.
As we entered the church I was warmly welcomed by a lady called Mary, who asked us where we were from, and had a general chat with us about the church and the village. The priest was chatting to one of two and I heard him recommend a book by Nick Page entitled “the badly behaved Bible.” I immediately went up to him and said that I was a bibliophile and was very interested in his recommendation. Nick Page is the author of 40 books and a great populariser of Christianity. When I hear someone recommend something I always see it as an omen and as soon as I got home I ordered a copy from Amazon.
I then had a chat with another man, Charles, who introduced himself as someone who had lived in London. By coincidence, he lived in Streatham Common where I lived from the age of seven until 16, my father having had a parish in the church, St Andrews, Streatham Common. He lived at the top of Gibson’s Hill, which was familiar to me as my brother-in-law lived in St Oswald’s road which is a few hundred yards from Gibson’s Hill. Charles was a buyer and seller of fine furniture, whose sons went to Dulwich College, where my father went and who are now taught at a grammar school in Taunton. Amazing that, of all people and all times we should experience such a coincidence.
We had a talk with a lady who was locking up the church. We met at a park bench outside the church and I made the comment that if I attain when I die the amount of unconditional love that the average dog has, I would have felt my life has not been wasted. She said that she believes there is a heaven for animals and she expects to meet her dogs, her pony, and all other animals she has been in love with on this earth plane
We had conversation with another woman we met on the street. Although she has only been in the area for 10 years she has been accepted because the amount of work she does for the parish. She told us that this was one of the best areas that she knew of for community spirit. As an example because she has a compromised immune system she has to have treatments twice a year which she needs a cocktail of chemicals. She knows that when she hears the garden gate going, she knows that one of her neighbours have bought lunch for her.
There is no question in my mind that under the right circumstances people can be kind and gentle to each other. It is overcrowding, too much stimulus, too much poverty, too many pressures that degrades the human spirit.
We did not get far in our quest to find a bolthole. This is a very expensive area to buy something and this would be reflected in rental costs. When we first found a house in Somerset, it found us rather than we found it. Our estate agent rang us up to say there was a property that they think we would like. And sure enough as soon as we entered the property he welcomed us and we felt it was ours. I feel the same thing will happen with what we need.
This is the time of year, especially in the country, when wassailing happens. There are two types. The first one is a house – visiting when people go round door-to-door singing and offering a drink from the wassail bowl in exchange for gifts. The more common practice is the orchard – visiting wassail which refers to the ancient custom of visiting orchards in cider producing regions, reciting incantations and singing to the trees to promote a good harvest for the coming year.
This year we went to Kilmersdon, the original place connected with the nursery rhyme ‘Jack and Jill went up the hill’. We assembled at a public orchard somewhat above the village. A wassailing Queen was chosen. It was her job to place a slice of toast in the tree to encourage Robbin Goodfellow to visit the tree and bring it luck, to pour cider in a ring around the tree, and also to hand around the wassailing bowl full of cider.
The words are as follows:
To thee, to thee, old apple tree. Be growth so strong and true. So fair of blossom and sweet of fruit. Be yours the season through.
Chorus after each verse
Q. We’ll Wassail thee, old apple tree and bless thee through the year. And raise a glass of the goodly brew. “Good luck” to all of us here
O Apple tree, O Apple tree. Now spread your branches wider. To bear more fruit for we to crop. And turn them into cider
We’ll wassail thee old apple tree. With cider around thy feet And a round of toast in your branches high. For the little robin to eat
This was followed by an incantation
Here’ to thee old apple tree. Long may you bud, long may you blow And may you bear apples enough. Hats full, caps full, Bushell, bushel bags full. And pockets full too. Hurrah, Hurrah, Hurrah
It was 4.30 pm and getting dark so about 50 of us went off to the home of the organiser and the ceremony was repeated with their apple tree. This video shows the loud bang made to frighten off the evil spirits. The laughter is because a bird appeared to be shot out of the tree and fall to the ground. I think it was a model one.
Martin and his wife had provided a bread and cheese buffet, apple cake with three types of local cider on offer. My goodness it was lovely to drink something with no additives and chemicals. Much convivial conversation was had and the singing of local songs went on for an hour or so.
I spend quite a lot of my day watching the videos , which are of a higher and higher quality as more people take the trouble to upload them knowing that they have an intelligent audience. Youtube routinely removes videos that it considers of fake news of the process of doing this is handed out to workers who do not know what they’re doing and rely on keywords. Frequently their first language is not English. Thank goodness for Brighteon which does not do this ridiculous censorship.
Jordon Peterson has my 100% respect for speaking up against nonsense for example hate crime etc. I came across a video which I am not necessarily asking you to watch because it is long, but it does show what the group mind, or the mass mind, can do when faced with someone that is confrontational or potentially threatening at some level.
I have chosen to take controversial paths and I’m sure I pay a price for this in that certain people will not entertain me because I know that I want to make them think about topics they would not normally find comfortable. ‘Controversial’ really means challenging to people’s comfort points. This video is a very good example of how two people on a stage can pursue a perfectly reasonable path and yet be attacked.
I do not understand how people can believe that we can live together in a civilized society with such behavior. Oh, by the way, if you don’t want to watch the whole video go to the end, about the last 5 min, and you will see the idiotic perpetrators of the trouble trying to justify themselves – or not. I wonder if arguments in general are rational. I’ve always believed that the most powerful stance is that of neutrality. In other words if you understand both sides you don’t waste energy emoting. You are in a position to take a calm view.
There is always a feeling that ‘I am one among so many so what difference can I make?’ The point is that the right person at the right time saying the right thing or doing the right thing can make a big difference. Think of Rosa Parks refusing to give up her seat on the bus. Unbeknown to her, the conditions were just right for a rebellion against domination by white people in America, or about the diminished status of black people. She was a symbol. There is nothing to stop anyone making a statement of what they believe in. Many people may have done so before, but that is not the point. Maybe it is only on the 101st occasion that the penny will drop among the public.
I wrote to my local paper about the folly of climate change. In case you wonder, you can see plenty of explanatory videos on my website XRexposed.com. What is truly shocking is the blatant bias of the BBC, basically in being a puppy dog to the corporate and the globalists and ignoring fact altogether. You can read my letter, which was published in full today in the local paper, The Midsomer Norton Journal
Who knows what will come of it? Who knows. If anyone will even read it? The point is that it is good for us all to articulate what we feel. It keeps us alive. We don’t just want to be taken along by the tide just like a piece of flotsam and jetsam. Knowing something is wrong and not doing something about it is slow motion suicide of the soul in my view.
The development of 5G is such that people in many local areas are waking up to the reality that our DNA will be fried and that there is no escape. I get many indications and invitations to meetings near and far. As is usual, one e-mail in a large bunch jumped out at me and that was a meeting that was due to happen in Bristol in the Broadmead Baptist Church, which is very much more than a church, more a community centre. Google that one for further details.
We set off on what must have been one of the rainiest and windiest nights imaginable. The rain came down in buckets and even the main A37 road had large puddles which caused our bus to skid and swerve. The upside of this was that there wasn’t much traffic so we made the journey between Farrington Gurney and Bristol in about 50 minutes.
Broadmead Baptist Church consists of three floors and our meeting was on the top floor. Upon entry, there was no noticeboard where to go and no one to ask except predictably those who did not know the answer. Françoise and I had to stumble around trying to guess where the right group might be and we eventually found it.
I had my business hat on. When I arrived at the appointed hour there was a large round table obviously use for committee meetings and about 16 chairs. When you organise a public meeting. You never know how many are going to turn up but there should always be room for late comers. You always get late comers. The meeting was interrupted on four occasions when someone came into the room causing someone else to come out and find an extra chair and bring it through the door and find a space. If I were chairing the meeting I would find that disturbing but the chair lady made a good job of it.
When there are volunteers, you can’t demand that anyone does something if they fall ill, or are changing their accommodation, or are just too busy or whatever the excuse. You just have to grit your teeth and accept that they haven’t done what they promised to do. Such was the case with the man who tried to have dealings with the Council, in this case Bristol Council. He tried to introduce 5G to the Green party councillor, but attempts to get through after the initial Meeting failed. I could have told him that that would be the case because the greens are not interested in 5G, perhaps because they don’t understand it or they don’t want to understand it.
When relevant points are made I tend to get very animated but I really have to learn to leave the weight of the meeting to the chairperson otherwise I could be seen as disruptive. When I spoke people did listen because they realised that I did have plenty to offer by way of common sense and wisdom on the topic of organisation, meetings, publicity and so on. I try to control myself realising that most people have never met me before and that some people had to learn lessons I learned years ago.
I have agreed to stand in the street and talk to people on the day of the first international protest against 5G which takes place on Saturday the 25th January. We shall meet on College Green at 11 AM on the morning. I warned everybody that you never get things right the first time and the only way of learning is by doing. I asked people to take particular care to remember what people said, learn about the mind of your enemy or should I say your adversary which in this case is ignorance and misinformation.
Our meeting of about 20 souls lasted for two hours between 7 PM and 9 PM and the time flew by very quickly because there was plenty of to-ing and fro-ing, ideas popping up all over the place. Meetings can get tedious when someone goes off at a tangent and gives a virtual life history about something and everyone gets bored, but a firm chairmen should be able to detect this and nip it in the bud.
I meant to say to everyone – but this was the wrong occasion- to talk about the machinations of politics and politicians. When money and power come in the door, then truth goes out of the window. It is not the politicians who run this country, people who come and go, but the permanent civil servants in which there is a coterie of those who give information at the behest of the powerful shadowy figures who run the country and indeed the world.
Plans for 5G were made decades ago as indeed were the plans for the whole telecommunications industry. The last people to hear about it never mind to discuss the implications are the general public, the people who are going to be influenced by it, including the carcinogenic effect of microwaves and particularly on children. Incidentally, did you know that the government knew perfectly well that schoolchildren were going to be adversely affected by putting wireless radiation in classrooms but they allowed the idea to go forward anyway.
I learned a lesson and that is to assume that people would be interested in what I’m doing if it’s relevant to the subject matter and give out leaflets accordingly. I should have done that but I know that I created a good impression and will come along to the next occasion better prepared.
We left the meeting at 9:15 PM. I handed my business card to the few people that I thought would be interested in maintaining contact. I would love to have popped into the local pub for a drink, my normal relaxant after a meeting, but we didn’t have time so we caught the 9:35 PM bus to where we had parked the car. We always sit upstairs in the front, we like the view There were two other people sitting silently reflecting, hopefully with their dreams intact.
For how long this will remain only God knows – and he ain’t telling.
Our group is called rather unfortunately ‘Mens United BA3’ which of course clashes too much with the Manchester United football team but perhaps that is something that is only going on in my head. Since forming the group a couple of years ago we have not attracted any new members; we have a core group of about 8 to 10 people who meet regularly.
We met in Radstock Swallow Cafe which is a place where people with learning difficulties are encouraged to function in a public role. I prepared a special talk on wind, using references from the Bible to look at the various ways in which the word wind in its literal and symbolic manner was used. The wind was blowing extensively earlier this evening which was why I was inspired to write a piece from which I give excerpts below and give a short talk on the subject.
Most Christians are familiar with the story of the disciples who were fishing. Peter was so afraid he began to sink and he cried out to Jesus to save him. Jesus ordered the winter be quiet and be still. The disciples were terrified. They asked each other, who is this? Even the wind and waves obey him. A quick reminder that perhaps the disciples needed this physical event to remind them of the nature of the person they were with.
We also have a parable of the man who built his house on sand. The rain came and the winds blew and beat upon that house and great was the fall thereof.
The man who built his house on rock lived to tell the tale.
In the Old Testament in Zachariah it is recorded that the prophet looked up and saw two other women. They had wings like the wings of the stork. Wind was sent by the Lord to carry them along. They lifted the basket up between heaven and earth.
I love the bit in John chapter 3 v 8 where it says ‘the wind blows were it listeth to. You hear the sound it makes. But you can’t tell where it comes from or where it is going. It is the same with everyone who was born through the spirit‘
This reading brings shivers up my spine.
James says that when you ask God for something you must believe and not doubt because the one who doubts it is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.
Finally, in Revelation, part of the vision was “after this I saw four angels standing at the four corners of the earth, holding back the four winds of the earth to prevent any wind from blowing on the land or on the sea or on any tree.
With so few people at the meeting it was difficult to make any plans for the future but we agreed that regular monthly prayer meetings were a good idea, and that there could be talks, given in people’s homes, which would enable Fellowship to take place.
I am personally put off by prayer meetings as such but I believe that during meetings where people are united in spirit, prayer of sort takes place anyway. I do not like prayers consisting of shopping lists and drawing God’s attention to what is going as if he is any sort of a God, he should know anyway.
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I receive many emails each day, today I received one from ‘Nomadic Matt‘ who specialises in giving travel advice. He is a traveler himself and delights in regaling us with his personal experiences / hints / tips etc. I found this email reproduced below most helpful and encouraging.
Hey Brian,
Happy New Year! January always seems to be a time for reflection as we think about our new year goals: where we want to go, who we want to be, and what we want to bring into our lives.
If you’re like me, you’re hoping those “new year, new you” goals don’t turn into “new year, old you” all over again.
Rather than admit defeat off the bat (“I know it won’t last”), this year, let’s reframe the scripts in our head.
Let’s toss out the negative thoughts that keep us tied to old patterns.
Instead of setting a goal, let’s decide to just be the kind of person we want to be.
Don’t pledge to read more. Become a reader.
Don’t pledge to cook more. Become a cook.
Don’t pledge to travel more. Become a traveler.
Imagine yourself as that new person and ask what they would do — and just do it! That may seem trite but study after study has shown that by imagining yourself as your desired self, you unconsciously start acting like that person.
You internalize those ideal traits and, little by little, become closer to who you want to be.
And that’s what’s most important: the small steps.
Because action begets action. The first step is always the hardest but, once you take it, every other step becomes easier.
And it doesn’t matter what that first step is. Buy a guidebook, subscribe to a blog, save a dollar. Just do something. Today.
Ask yourself “What’s the one thing I can do today to get closer to my dream trip?”
After a while, you find yourself building a habit and becoming that traveler you want to be.
Over the next month, I’ll be sending a bunch of new articles on how to travel on a budget in 2020 as well as how to travel eco-friendlier too. There’s a lot coming down the pipe.
But, today, I want to remind you that there will never a perfect time to travel.
You will always find an excuse not to go. There will always be bills to pay or things to do. No time will ever be perfect.
Accept that, put it out of your mind, and start taking action.
Ships weren’t meant to stay in harbor — and you weren’t meant to stay home.
So we went to the Andelli Art Gallery, near Wells, to enjoy a very unusual private view. The gallery was packed with young enthusiastic people and it gave me a vibe I seldom get in a rather aged conurbation such as Midsomer Norton. The local parent teachers association had prepared a a very good finger buffet. Alas it had been prepared some hours before so anything with bread or biscuits were soggy to say the least.
Students with proud teacher (bearded)courage needed to attempt such a profile
This final piece is not from the show but a work situated on the staircase of the property where the exhibition took place. The perspective is very unusual and makes me feel a little uncomfortable.
It is a myth that the weather is ‘bad’ in the winter and ‘good’ in summer. You can have lovely breezy days in February and dreadful days in August. We went for a walk along the railway line which used to function between Radstock and Frome until Dr Beeching put his microscope on it.
The so called ‘disorder’ of the winter. Dead and dying vegetation but the new will emerge out of the old in a couple of months time.
If you look carefully you can see two sets of tracks with trees growing between them .
The skeleton of an old railway good carriage.
A ploughed field with an inexplicable deep hole in the middle. Maybe a stray bomb from WW2.
To Mells for lunch at the local village store. Two lovely pumpkin/parsnip/garlic soups with bread to die for. £9.
Hartleys is one of my favourite restaurants with Paul, the affable owner, as its star. Yesterday I rang him up to ask for an appointment, to offer a service. The reason I did this was because three times in succession over two years I have signed up for receiving a news bulletin about the activities and features of the restaurant and I have never had a response.
I never make criticism without making an offer. This is easier in small self owned establishments than large establishments such as the gas company, where personal bartering and offers do not count. Since there was clearly a defect in the mail system I went along, intending to offer my services in case there was a weak link in the chain. As a result, the conversation was as affable as I could have wished and Paul was able to explain the situation from his point of view. He said that someone had been helping him for a number of years.
We identified two possible weak links in the chain. First of all people write their e-mail address in the restaurant after having received service. This is then passed manually to the mailing list provider who will add the information as and when they have the time. The two links were easy to identify. Sometimes, people write their e-mail address indistinctly so that information is lost. Secondly, it is up to the ultimate recipient of the list to put them on a database. This is done on a voluntary basis.
A loss of even 10% of addresses would have a huge impact over the year on the number of returning customers. In this age of tight profit margins, and I believe that most restaurants operate within this, that last 5% or 10% makes the difference between profit and loss.
After our meeting, I said I would write to him and leave the ball in his court. It is after all his business and not mine and he is entitled to run the business in any way he pleases. I find that with small organisations, complaining or grumbling is the least helpful way of going about things. It is much better to praise the organisation with a qualification for example, I loved your food but it was such a pity it was served on a cold plate.
Putting people’s backs up when you first open your mouth just starts their adrenaline to flow and you will get standard answers, anything to placate the customer and nothing will ever be done. It is really worth putting yourself in the place of the service provider to try and imagine what problems they may experience. If the person you’re complaining to feels that you’re on their wavelength, they are far more likely to cooperate .
When I finished the dialogue I went along to Rocky Mountain nursery. There were not many people around but as the following pictorial essay will show, they are preparing for the coming of spring.
I went to holy Communion this morning which involved a fairly long sermon. The time after Christmas which is a celebration of the birth of Jesus, is very important to Christians and the reading today was the first chapter or part of the first chapter of St John’s Gospel. In the most magisterial and visionary way, St John is trying to convey in words the enormous sweep of our world receiving a visitation from the son of God, not the only attempt but one that we are familiar with. It brings shivers to me each time I hear it
1.In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God; 3 all things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made. 4 In him was life, and the life was the light of men. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. 6 There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7 He came for testimony, to bear witness to the light, that all might believe through him. 8 He was not the light, but came to bear witness to the light. 9 The true light that enlightens every man was coming into the world. 10 He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world knew him not. 11 He came to his own home, and his own people received him not. 12 But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God; 13 who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.
The preacher reminded us that Jesus understood only too well what it was like to be abused, insulted, deliberately misunderstood, rejected and of course to be killed for his faith. We think mistakenly of Jesus as a holy distant figure who is preaching to us but he was the one who walked his talk, who was obedient to his Father consistently throughout his life. Interesting that he did not start his ministry until the age of 30. Some people say that he visited Glastonbury here in the United Kingdom. Who knows?
Those of us who stand up for anything which makes people awkward for whatever reason can expect a dose of hostility or ridicule. This is one of the many ways that Jesus is an exemplar to us.
Krishnamurti was unique in that he dissolved the movement which he had formed and in his name. He felt that no one should be follower and they should find truth within themselves.
I find the most comfort in Christianity. Maybe it is because I was bought up in the Christian faith. My father was a Church of England Vicar – a disadvantage as well as an advantage. It is good ‘software for the soul’.
I came across the film (below) which compares the attitude to and treatment of mental health in the West and that in so called traditional or primitive society. Certainly work a look if you know someone who is ‘mentally ill’ and taking regular pills.
The two weeks from just before Christmas to the New Year are unique. No one expects you to be in, put any pressure on you, or makes any demands. You can therefore without too much effort become invisible and get on with work that you want to do rather than what is expected of you.
This year I’m going to pay more attention to my health. I’m still too dependent on prescribed medicine though admittedly it’s only one pill a day but it does the job. I’ve tested the magnesium levels in my system which show a slight deficiency and today I did a blood test to determine my blood type. You can get self testing equipment for about £12 from Amazon, but I’m not sure how accurate it is.
Today I wrote a newsletter to all the members of the allotment group which I’m chairman. This is a time of year where preparations made for the new season and not much appears to be going on but the allotment has to be maintained like anything else. I went round with a camera today recording all the little things that were going on, for example the good appearance of a hedge that had been cut, rhubarb making his first appearance, leeks soldiering on during the wet weather (they don’t seem to mind) and a gentle reminder to people to maintain their plot in a tidy condition.
I do enjoy small areas of order and harmony. It sets the example that we still care for each other and that life on a local level should not be eclipsed by the dreadful material going on throughout the world. The point is, we cannot do very much about the latter, so I think we should just note and observe rather than get stressed out. Most of our friends do not want to know what is really going on and choose to confine themselves to daily existence. Very few people have the courage even to think.
Today I came across a PDF book on the heart. It puts the whole thing into perspective and I give credit to the website that told me about it. The book is not long and really does sum up the importance of the heart, much more than a pump, and one of the most important organs in the body.
I did not know – or I needed to be reminded – that the number of messages from the heart to the brain far exceed those of the brain to the heart and that the heart itself as a telepathic ability, a morphic field we could say, which could if we let it make an enormous difference to our lives.
Unusually, I will publish replies. Just hit return reading this diary. I will collect any comments and let you know.
This is the exact opposite of the above. It talks about the symbiotic effect of using smartphones with regard to Artificial intelligence. It’s pretty scary.
In spite of all, we are still a Christian country in the United Kingdom and if you don’t believe me look how many institutions and organisations and charities and ventures have been inspired by the Christian gospel.
Justin Welby, the Archbishop of Canterbury, said this on New Year’s Day, today.
Make personal connections with others in 2020. Creating new unity in a divided society. He says “let’s go for a heroic new years resolution. Let’s resolve to connect. To reach out to just one person. We don’t know, all from whom we had drifted apart.
Pick one person. Pick up the phone. Send a text. Meeting for a cup of tea. Make that connection. Let’s begin cementing our unity one brick at a time.
If I ever have the means, I would like to examine ways of enhancing the community spirit. The British people have it within themselves to leave it to someone else and as a result things don’t get done. I think people are afraid of being different. It takes just one person to start a trend and the rest will follow.
How on earth people manage to recover from far more addictive drugs such as heroin God only knows, and what about those who stagger away from the pharmacy with a large paper bag with 10 different types of medication. I wonder how many people in this country, the United Kingdom, are addicted. What a way to go.
The local parent teachers association had prepared a a very good finger buffet. Alas it had been prepared some hours before so anything with bread or biscuits were soggy to say the least.
The so called ‘disorder’ of the winter. Dead and dying vegetation but the new will emerge out of the old in a couple of months time.
If you look carefully you can see two sets of tracks with trees growing between them .
The skeleton of an old railway good carriage.
A ploughed field with an inexplicable deep hole in the middle. Maybe a stray bomb from WW2.
