I usually get quite excited when my wife Lois goes into the kitchen because I know she's eventually going to come out of there with some scrumptious baked goods, or delicious stew, or something of that nature, to tempt me with.
Unfortunately, however, I have to remember that as likely as not, whatever is smelling so good is not something she's done for me, or, at any rate, not just for me. And today when she bakes a tray of delicious rock cakes, I have to remember that they're mainly for a bunch of Iranian Christian refugees who've joined her church while they wait for the Home Office to give approval for them to stay in the UK.
Lois showcases her batch of 20 rock cakes,
only two of which are for us, though, unfortunately
Lois is so warm-hearted, and it's difficult for me because I feel sorry for the refugees, and I don't really begrudge Lois baking for them. [That's big of you! - Ed]
Although they're accommodated free of charge by HM Government, the refugees are not allowed to work until they're given "permission to stay", and as soon as they get that, they have to pack up and leave their government-paid accommodation and find somewhere to live, with only a matter of a few days to arrange it.
What a madness all that is!
If I were an Iranian I don't think I'd come to the UK - why come all this way over to the complete other side of Europe?
On the other hand who would want to stay in a country like Iran? The government there and its leaders are completely crazy. And their country is more backward in democratic terms than England was in the 13th century. So it's a choice between two evils really, isn't it. I'm sorry to have to say all that, but it's true.
It was Ayatollah Khomeini, wasn't it, who first set new standards for craziness in Iran's leadership when he kicked out the Shah in 1979. Khomeini really "upped the bar" of craziness in a big way, didn't he.
Ayatollah Khomeini - "set new standards for craziness"
when he came to power in Iran in 1979
Included for comparison purposes: King John of England
(reigned 1199-1216), much more liberal than the Ayatollah,
even 800 years ago, here shown being invited to sign
the Magna Carta with the words, "Just sign here, your Majesty!"
[Have you ever thought of getting a job as a political commentator, Colin?! - Ed]
I'm going to have to struggle a bit with my conscience, however. Rock cakes are pretty tempting, so Lois is going to have to hide her gorgeously odoriferous "batch of 20" somewhere really difficult this time - for those moments when I get up early in the morning but judge that it's too much work to get myself a bowl of cereal or put some bread in the toaster. Those mornings when I want something quick, to "hit the spot".
Although I'm no giant, luckily I'm relatively tall for people of my generation - the so-called "Boomers" - at 5ft 10.5 inches (and that last half-inch is a real life-saver on occasion, let me tell YOU!), so I can find most hidden cakes around the house if I try hard enough - like old Josh Michaels whose mad exploits have been gracing the front page of local tabloids like Onion News for years now.
16:00 Time for a cup of tea and a rock cake on the couch, and a scheduled "catch-up" phone call with my sister Jill, who lives in Cambridge. She's recently, over Christmas, had the joy of spending the holiday with her first ever grandchild, as well as with all the other members of her family. The little lad was born on November 13th to Zoe, the eldest of Jill's 3 granddaughters, who lives in Cheshire with partner Chris.
He's called Conor and he's already a big smiler, at not quite 2 months old. How weird it is to think that, with a following wind, he'll hopefully see in the coming of the next century on New Year's Eve 2099. Yikes!!!!!
Keep smiling, Conor. It'll get you through any hard times that lie ahead, that's for sure!
The other side of the coin to Conor's smiling nature is that he unfortunately doesn't sleep very much, and wants frequent feeding, which makes things difficult for his mum Zoe, no doubt about that. And Lois remembers how the younger of our two daughters, Sarah, was just the same, when she was born, way back in 1977.
Is it something in the DNA perhaps?
I wonder.....!!!!!
flashback to summer 1977: Lois and me in our back yard
with Alison (2), and Sarah, just a couple of weeks old
Flashback to 1977, and the celebrations in Pittville Park Cheltenham
for the Queen's Silver Jubilee. Alison looks on as little Sarah
bawls her eyes out over something or other - oh dear !!!!
20:00 And a chance to see the latest programme in Alice Roberts's new 6-part series, "Digging for Britain", which gives a digest of all the most important archaeological breakthroughs made in the UK during the last 12 months.
In tonight's programme Alice is in our "neck of the woods" - west Britain, and it's nostalgic for Lois and me to see Alice visiting ongoing excavations at the medieval 12th century Tintern Abbey in its beautiful quiet setting on the River Wye, not far from here. Lois and I have visited it many a time, with our children when they were young, and since, when it's just been us.
The abbey's monastic community flourished here until the English Reformation in 1534, when Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries and sold them off to local landowners, or left them for local villagers to pillage - yes, those damned "pillaging villagers" again!
The King sold Tintern Abbey off to the Marquis of Worcester, who preceded to "asset-strip" the place, removing all the lead on the roofs and in the windows, and taking away anything else valuable, leaving the building to gradually fall into ruin. Thanks very much, my lord Worcester haha!!!
It's interesting however, that even after the building started to fall into disrepair, the locals still regarded it as somehow a "holy place", and somewhere perhaps to bury your dead family-members if you could sneak in there with a couple of spades maybe.
And last year, the remains of 24 such bodies were found by archaeologists in "unofficial" graves in the abbey grounds, all dug after the monastery was no longer in use.
Interesting stuff, perhaps, but it's not the most interesting item tonight for Lois and me. Oh no!
Do you remember how, just 2 weeks ago, when Lois and I were returning from spending Christmas with our daughter Alison (now 48) and family in Hampshire, how we got stuck in the most enormous traffic jams near the notorious so-called "Air Balloon Roundabout" south of Cheltenham?
You must remember the following excerpt from my blog, shurely !!!!!
excerpt from my blog for December 28th
Ringing a few bells now is it? I thought so!!!!
Well, that traffic chaos round the old, much-loved but now sadly-demolished Air Balloon Pub, was due to a road-widening scheme, as we all know.
What Lois and I didn't know at the time, however, was that not just road-builders, but also archaeologists have been at work at the site, and have found the grave of a young man of obviously high status, who died at the tragically young age of around 20. And his grave obviously became a bit of a shrine to his many local followers, so he must have been a king or a prince maybe or certainly one hell of a popular guy, that's for sure.
His grave was an isolated one in the middle of a large enclosure, and was probably designed as something of a centrepiece, and maybe a place of pilgrimage, archaeologists can tell.
Next time Lois and I are stuck in traffic jams in that area - the road-widening and re-routing scheme here won't be finished till Spring 2027, would you believe! - we'll pause to think of that dead young guy who's been lying there for 1500 years or whatever, the only grave in a massive enclosure, and maybe we'll raise our glasses to him.
Poor high-status guy!!!!!!
Hail to thee, high-status guy! You may have kept us out of war!!!! Or maybe, there again, maybe you didn't. The jury's still out on that one, pending more evidence one way or the other.
Fascinating stuff, though, isn't it!!!
22:00 We go to bed - zzzzzzzzz!!!!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment