Life Observed

See how time passes, that's another month gone.  Actually this was a month without alcohol, no wonder it seemed to drag. Usually the end of the month seems to come round rather too quickly. Actually I wonder if the passage of time is a variable feast. It seems to depend on the mood you are in. I wonder if Einstein knew this?

Here's an old junk shop piled full of stuff.  The owner no doubt hopes that someone will come along and want some of the stuff that no-one wants. But no: This is a curio shop in Burford, prosperous epicentre of the lovely Cotswolds. I expect some hedge fund manager will call in and buy up these "wonderful things".  (A Howard Carter moment there, folks)

What's this? It's a Mason's mark, found over a 16th century doorway in Burford. In those days a mason was someone who had a mystical craft which was the envy of lesser mortals. You might say that nothing has changed really. On the Square (or near the square) in Wantage. PS: A Masonic Hall shouldn't be made of bricks, it seems all wrong. Surely?

Rock cakes: Take your pick... Aah, rock cakes. That takes me back: In my first senior school boys spent a term learning to cook (fried breakfast, Trifle and rock cakes) and the girls did metalwork. That's quite modern thinking for 1963.

One of my childhood memories is watching my Grandfather employed in the risky task of "drawing" the open fire by holding the Halifax Courier across the fireplace while the flames rushed up the chimney. Every now and then the paper would go brown, catch fire and would have to be released in a sort of domestic panic.  Aah. Simple pleasures. I worry for this generation. Will they remember Grandad muttering as he fiddles with the remote control trying to get the automatic gas fire to ignite?

Wouldn't it be great if little green men really were little and green?