“Run from what’s comfortable. Forget safety. Live where you fear to live. Destroy your reputation. Be notorious. I have tried prudent planning long enough. From now on I’ll be mad.”
My single surviving hormone did a jig this morning.
Young man.
Thank Jeebuth my family don’t read this :o)
Himself turned up in his wagon with his new young man, an ex-Royal Engineer who has a thing about us Monkeys, to deliver some free wood.
Oooh. Handsome. Fit. Jiggly.
Down Hormone. DOWN.
And I’m only half joking.
Young man followed by Monkeys – for those who don’t know that both my husband and I belonged to the MOST HATED REGIMENT IN THE ARMY. Monkey See, Monkey Arrest and Charge and Put in Jail :o)
P.S. I had my slippers on and my hair was all akimbo. Pout.
In 1937 two Yorkshire brothers found the remains of a very old ship in the mudflats on the north bank of the River Humber. The site was excavated by experts over the next year but then all work halted. World War Two had begun.
After the war, the brothers revisited their find and eventually, a decade later, the authorities agreed to carbon date their ship. The report came back. Egyptian galley c. 1400 B.C.
Fast forward to 1066 and 37 miles north of the final resting place of this Egyptian galley and there was a battle. The Battle of Stamford Bridge. It was here that King Harold II defeated an invading Viking horde just before sprinting south to Hastings and his fateful meeting with William the Bastard.
What connects these two events?
Ships.
And another question.
Why did it take the all-conquering, fierce and mighty Norse around 2400 years to figure out how to build their infamous long-ships?
Such is the foundation upon which lies the history of the British Isles.
Having already taken 1000 years out of the story by examining Brutus the Trojan and Brutus the Roman, I’m feeling the need to steal another millennium – give or take a couple of centuries.
Phantom Battlefields and Paper Twins
Disclaimer: The following is not my research; it belongs to NC. And this is what I tried so hard to debunk/ignore/unread.
1066 – Albion/Britain
1204 – Byzantine Constantinople
A great battle proved to be a major turning point in the history of the British Isles.
A great battle proved to be a major turning point in the history of the Byzantine Empire.
1066 was the beginning of the invasion of Britain and the formation of the new Norman monarchy that continued until 1154.
1204 was the beginning of the invasion of Constantinople and the formation of two new Empires. The Latin Empire and the Nicaean Empire.
Britain was invaded by a great fleet gathered from many countries.
Constantinople was invaded by a great fleet gathered from many countries.
The Norman Dynasty lasted 88 years.
The Latin Empire lasted 60 years.
The centre of power was London, the capital of Britain.
The centre of power was Constantinople, the capital of the Byzantine Empire.
Harold II, legitimate heir and King of England died.
Isaac II Angelos, legitimate heir and Emperor died.
Harold II ruled for less than a year.
Isaac II Angelos ruled for less than a year.
Before Harold II, the King was Harold I Harefoot. He ruled from 1035 to 1040.
Isaac II Angelos ruled twice. The first time was from 1185 – 1195.
The dead and conquered ruler is the second to bear that name – Harold II.
The dead and conquered ruler is the second to bear that name – Isaac II Angelos.
The conqueror is the first to bear that name – William I.
The conqueror is the first to bear that name – Theodore I Lascaris.
William I ruled for 21 years.
Theodore I Laskaris ruled for 18 years.
Make of that what you will. But bear in mind that Britain was conquered because William I of Normandy was deprived of his right to inherit the throne after the death of Edward the Confessor.
Constantinople was conquered because Manuel Comnenus was exiled and denied the right to inherit the throne after the execution of his father Andronicus I.
Both battles were acts of vengeance.
Coincidence? Maybe. Or Paper Twins? A story repeated worldwide, just the names and dates and locations changed?
One story. One Empire. One Language.
From the 13th century Annals of Melrose Abbey, Scotland: “Now, for the first time the rumour appeared in our land that the godless horde of Tartari has ruined many countries.”
From the 13th century Chronica Sancti Edmundi: “The godless tribe which is called Tartarins, and which was rushed up from an Island, filled the whole surface of the earth, ruined Hungary and neighbouring areas.”
The late 13th/early 14th cc saw the huge expansion of the “Great Empire” outwards along all points of the compass. They fought, conquered, settled, built, learned and were taught. They transported all that they were and had into many lands. Including their language.
This is a complicated subject that I will expand on in the future but, for the time being…
There has been a long and varied study into the origins of language. (Not by linguists. They only appeared on the scene in the 18th/19th c.) It is becoming better known that the basis of all our languages is Slavic. It is also becoming better known that Latin is not actually ancient. Nor is English. Both (and many others including Ancient Greek) were created around the 17th century by ‘Reformers’ who were told that “the Empire must be forgotten forever.”
I could go on but – the Hidden History of the British Isles may, in fact, be the Hidden History of a vanished Empire. An Empire that has its roots in the 11th century. The same goes for your country too.
Ooops. There goes that last phantom millennium. Poof.
If any of the above is true, then, wherever we travel in our world – no matter the country, race, language, religion, colour – we should always be going home.
Going home to a warm welcome, good food and great company.
P.S. I didn’t want to see this but now that I can it explains a lot. The buildings, the technologies, the destruction, the confusion, the division, the recent unravelling of so many mysteries…the frantic to push towards another reset.
Of all the things that have been destroyed in the past, the one thing that has so far been indestructible is The Human Spirit. The Divine Spark. The Collective Consciousness. Whatever you want to call it.
That is our next big fight (?)
I’m feeling sad now :o(
****
SELF QUOTE aka MINE OWN WORDS :
If any of the above is true, then, wherever we travel in our world – no matter the country, race, language, religion, colour – we should always be going home.
Of all the things that have been destroyed in the past, the one thing that has so far been indestructible is The Human Spirit. The Divine Spark. The Collective Consciousness. Whatever you want to call it.
All I see now are far too many damp squibs. Sadly.
I started the Ramen yesterday in the slow-cooker and knew that I’d leave it overnight for the beef to marinade in the spices and broth. But I added the noodles too.
For pity’s sake. Noodles absorb liquid!!!!
Stage Two : Take out the swollen noodles, add more broth……Keep Calm & Carry On.
Working as admin for the MOD always meant three trays on your desk.
In tray – Work to be done.
Out tray – Finished work.
Pending – Or as I called it WTF do I do with this? I know. I’ll ignore it.
:o)
Aha. I’ve almost emptied my Real Life Pending Tray. Today’s task was tackling the pending MOUNTAIN.
aka IRONING.
Music helps.
Happy music helps.
I have a playlist of upbeat tunes to help me.
Including this one.
P.S. I have previous convictions for embarrassing my kids by dancing in the aisles. That’s tame compared to what Himself does when we meet my friends. He has a very bad habit of dropping strange and sometimes outrageous things in their trolleys. Which they don’t discover until they get to the tills.
There is an amazing Lebanese restaurant right beside the fountains. When we were there and asked where we wanted to go and eat – we chose that place.
Their humus was to die for.
But the restaurant was dry. As in zero alcohol. But we knew where to go. Around the fountains, through the arch, down the arcade and BINGO. A bar where you could smoke and that had ICE-COLD Guinness on tap.
One night I left him and her (brother and sister) in the bar and walked back to the fountains.
They were playing this……….
Buttinski – we were living in the Burg Khalifa at the time. A little walk away via the Dubai Mall. OH. And they both shouted at me for disappearing. Sigh.
Attack it with a hairdryer, a wooden spoon and an iron mallet.
Eldest and I had great fun.
The freezer is about 15 years old and has deep frozen at least one mammoth and two sabre toothed tiger’s at the bottom. Leaving no room for anything else.
Fortunately the dang thing is near the back door so as the boy is hacking the ice, I’m chucking it out the door.
We almost killed Dave the postie with a block of ice embedded with peas and sweetcorn….oops.
Hey. Not everything has to be a boring chore. Right ?
We watched this this morning and I learned something new!
Katina eats an Ulster Fry….a big one. Yeah. Whooopppeee. It makes her famous.
Way back in the day when eldest was 18 months old and we lived in Ulster and Himself was in charge of the G.O.C’s protection team, working a 20 hour day……..me and the little ‘un used to go exploring.
OMG. Nobody told me at the time that taking the train from Lisburn to Belfast for a jolly day out was #banned by a “wife of.”
Me and my baby son did it regularly.
He’s just had a truly explosive moment about my life without him in Ulster.YOU DID WHAT?
Baby and I loved it. But in those days an Ulster Fry was sausage, bacon, eggs, beans in a separate bowl (NEVER on the plate) and soda bread.
The NI peeps have strange customs. NEVER had a waste bin in the house. Kitchen bin always outside the back door. Didn’t display knick-knacks in house. Never tainted a meal with baked bean juice. Loved the colour ORANGE (check that out???)
I loved Belfast. The people were great. The city is awesome………….oops :o)
Note to Self : Buy some Bicarb of soda to make soda bread next week.
That’s why I live in the middle of not a very interesting place surrounded by fields. And farmers. And the strange smells that farmers make on their fields.
I’m also a bit of a petrol-head.
A silent car that runs on invisible juice from out of a plug is anathema to me.
Eco-mentalists/Eco-terrorists have a role to play.
Greta Tunaberger has a role to play.
I’m perfectly happy with my 20 year old car (George) and driving around at 30/40mph. Thank you.
P.S. Any faster than that on our country windy wiggly roads and George goes into the shakes and punishes us by drinking far too much petrol.
John Sullivan’s words, as delivered by Delboy, are now a huge part of our language here.
The one in the title is a personal favourite.
Going back a day – the law of SOD is still operating.
I just sent a polite snot-o-gram to an ebay seller I’ve used many times saying that I’ve not received my order. It’s 5 days late.
Ten minutes later I open the back door to hang out the washing and there is a parcel on the doorstep. MY PARCEL.
WTF? The front door was wide open so the postie snuck around the side and silently placed it there……on purpose. Because why ?
Anyhoo.
I’m in the process of drafting a Victorian reform dress in the style of the Aesthetic Movement as championed by Oscar Wilde, of all people.
The artistic, aesthetic, dress reform movement was all for beautifully draped, embellished and free clothing. A fashion anarchy against the corsets and bustles and strait-jacket-rigours of the usual Victorian clothes.
Many gift the likes of Chanel with freeing women from the shackles of whalebone and bustle and crinoline. Few know about Wilde’s contribution.
It’s a given in the UK that any Bank Holiday will be a wash out.
I was up at 5am this morning and it was raining. Almost 12 hours later, it’s still raining. Which is – in all honesty- a blessed relief.
All week the main road has been full of caravans on the way to the coast. Just for this weekend. And they are not piddly little boxes on wheels…….these are huge plush, all mod-cons fitted, able to sleep 8 people boxes on wheels.
I’m not a fan of caravans. A few horrible experiences in the past !
Maybe tomorrow the sun will put his hat back on again.
The English series of The Magic Roundabout was written and narrated by Oscar-Winning Emma Thompson’s Dad. It always played at 5.55pm in the UK. Just before the BBC 6 o’clock News.
Every dang thing these days is a carousel. Round and round – same bs followed by same bs.
This is my way of saying that I’m thoroughly, totally, completely, utterly B O R E D.
Himself is home for 8 days now. So to spice things up, I’ve already told him that I’ll have to get rid of him – somehow, someway *evil grin*
He’s been on his best behaviour this past hour but it won’t last long :o)
Sigh. I’ll just spend the afternoon undoing all the sewing done this morning because I now have 2 right fronts to the dress.
When I’m in a bad mood – I Tell EVERYONE
LOL
P.S. These two songs were written because – at the height of their fame – ABBA realised that they had become nothing more than puppets, controlled by outside forces.
My traveller-in-crime and I were tasked to get from Lincolnshire (me)/Penarth, South Wales (her) to Dubai to meet up with her brother and her nephew for business.
We STOLE her husband (Dangerous Brian) and made him drive her from there to here and then all of us down to Heathrow.
Emirates to Dubai were not playing so we had to fly Etihad. Landing in Abu Dhabi.
Bye, Dangerous B. We’re off. Thanks. Zooooom.
Us two had already spent time in Abu Dhabi so we didn’t stress. In fact, we were so unstressed that we may have drained the plane of their supply of Bollinger over the 8 hours in the air.
Our driver picked us up and drove us from AD to Dubai. The Sheraton Creek in Old Dubai.
We may have made a phone call to the very stressy family members waiting for us….. Asking how far away Fallujah was from them.
Of all the awful stunts that’ve been pulled on us in the last two years – this one hurt me most.
Not only was international travel Banned but travel from here to our next door neighbour. From mother/father to child. Between siblings and friends and the local surgery/hospital/cemetery/shop/pub/church et al.
Games Without Frontiers?
War without tears?
OMG. In my dreams of my past lives….. I WAS married to Peter Gabriel.
I started working in restaurants/hotels aged 12 and opened my first bank account when I was 17, using the tips I’d been given.
Some restaurants have a tip jug policy – every tip IS put into a jug and the waiting staff get equal shares. Yeh. Worked sometimes. Not often though (!?)
Others allow the staff to keep their own tips. Which was great. As we earned a very small wage.
Anyhoo.
It’s years and years since I’ve seen this Kitchen Nightmares episode.
P.S. The George Hotel in Amesbury was a blast. Employed as a receptionist, I ended up doing everything (reception, the accounts, the cashing up, waitress, cleaner, cook, barmaid in two bars, flower arranger, bedmaker) but not the washing up. Woohoo.
Being a housewife is much like working in a restaurant/hotel. But without the tips. Good job I am not an AMY.
He, to this day, still can’t remember us in London at New Year going to a cinema just off Trafalgar Square to watch this film.
I remember. Clearly. Behind us was an entire family and as the film started one of them dropped their mobile phone. Under my seat. Lights down, film rolling. ME standing up as about 10 people searched for the stupid phone.
He doesn’t even remember afterwards when we went to a tiny Italian restaurant for dinner and he ordered fishy linguine and/or how much crap I spat at him for ruining my own meal with a very fishy smell.
A few years later….time travel via Paul…and after a weekend he’d spent with his bezzie mate in Amsterdam (!?!) – his sister’s daughter had bought her mother two big spliffs from Cardiff via her best mate’s Dad.
Stay with me here, please ?
So. One weekend my traveller-in-crime came to stay with us for a few days (without her husband – father of said daughter )- who was then a serving South Wales Policeperson.
Neither she nor me had EVER done the Ganji thing. But Himself warned us.
You get the giggles. Then the munchies. Then fall asleep.
We larfed at him and said No Way, Pedro.
The three of us didn’t even finish one whole W.H. Spliffs.
To this day a bag of Tesco pretzels (the munchies vibe) are called Strepsils :o)
It’s a fault (or gift) of the Scots too. Especially Highlanders.
P.S. I was not ever the favourite child either. I was a girl. The other two were boys. My mother was not good at hiding this but Dad was just….A David.
I got over it the day we cleared out his flat, after his funeral.
My father had kept every single Xmas and birthday card I’d sent him since leaving home at 17.
John the Good and his brother Isaac were very close.
Isaac married Kata/Irene and they had three children Andronicus, John, Anna.
My very old family tree above used the Mainstream history dates for the birth and death of Andronicus I Comnenus but….the video below blows the birth date outta the wazoo.
According to N.C. Andronicus Comnenus was born in 1152 and crucified in 1185.
A bit of maths here? C’mon.
Today is my eldest son’s 33rd birthday. Which PROVES Venus Rose’s description of me as a dinosaur. I’m over 50 years old.
Last night I listening to Phil Rickman’s latest and Pagan Jane (daughter of Anglican Deliverance Minister, Merrily) had talked Gomer Parry into taking her to the Queen Stone in Goodrich.
Jane and Gomer (a brilliant character) talk a lot about The Wicker Man Film and Druids and Alfred Watkins of Ley Line fame and Pagans and Blood Sacrifice and…..I had to connect the dots.
OK. I’ve looked into Druids. They have a get-out-clause in history. As in – they kept NO WRITTEN RECORDS. Everything was oral. Like Bards. Mmmmn!
The Wicker Man was made of wood so NO examples survive in archaeology. Convenient.
Blood Sacrifice – Just look into Dracula and Elizabeth Bathory and understand how we’ve ALL been led to believe that we’d wilfully do this. I think not. Talk to any sane War Vet and ask him if he “got off” on killing or bleeding half to death.
Much of what we are spoon-fed via media today is (IMHO) a 19th century invention.
I’ve NEVER liked the Victorians. Pious Creeps.
Before you call me out – Yes. We Scots have a blood soaked history but think about this strange thing….
Somerled was Lord of the Isles.
Christopher Lee is on record as saying that this was his favourite role – playing LORD SUMMERISLE.
Shrug. My mind works in mysterious ways. But then I’m of Clan Gregor and Clan DONALD!
We watched the video below very early this morning.
Wow.
My comment : 28 hours…I’d not even bother to sleep. Too much to see.
His Comment : You’d NEVER eat all that food.
His eyes were huge watching. Caviar on tap. Lobster. Caviar. And a whole caviar menu.
I HATE SEAFOOD.
But French bread and saffron butter and croissants and Veuve Cliquot are nice!
I’d be so high on champagne, running up and down the whole train and looking into everything and quoting scenes from all three Murder on the Orient Express films + book that I may’ve been thrown off about 5 miles outta Calais.
:o)
P.S. One single word came up with us throughout the entire video.
The Verity Hope Dress above has been in my “basket” for months. So last Friday I bought the pattern and started the whole process….having already made the bloomers she wears in the image above.
Easy Peasy, said my brain.
We are Tuesday now and I’m still struggling with what I thought would take me just two days to make. Sigh.
But then, I’m high as a kite on ibuprofen for toothache and feeling slightly giddy :o)
P.S. Vic Reeves (real name Jim Moir) is a UK comedian best known for the Vic & Bob/Reeves &Mortimer loony shows :o)
Over the past couple of months my online fabric buys have been pretty good.
ebay. Cheaper than a shop.
But the image above is my first mistake.
IRL – the fabric is a disgusting shade of pale orange/beige/yuk.
I spent a few years as a retailer (owning a real, physical shop) dealing in fabric and yarn and clothes and art and jewellery so I KNOW the difference between wholesale and retail.
Buy quite a lot, quite cheap from a wholesaler who has massive stocks and you’ll get an RRP.
Recommended Retail Price. I used to shave a bit off the RRP to give my customers good value.
They still complained. Especially when buying anything that I’d handmade with mine own fair hands!!!
Caveat Emptor. Buyer Beware.
A computer will NEVER give you the TRUE feel or colour or scent or taste or voice.
NEVER!
P.S. This disgusting fabric is natural cotton… so I can dye it. YAY :o)
Start new project at 6am this morning and carry on with it as you listen to a favourite audiobook, alternated with some wonderful music.
Say that you’re NOT feeling the cooking a meal vibe.
Order a pizza delivery.
Suddenly find out that it is now 4:30pm.
Woohoooo!
The only real stress I’ve had all day is when I suddenly discovered that the trousers I’m currently hand sewing had back to front AND upside down in-seam pockets.
I must’ve got to a good part of the book and zoned out :o)
