Month: August 2019

Postcards from blogging friends

~ beetleypete ~ 65 Comments

You may remember that I recently published two posts about the fact that the sending of postcards is dying out.

Wish You Were Here?: Holiday Postcards

Arriving! Picture Postcards

I made the request for my readers and followers to send me picture postcards to enjoy, and to save for posterity.
I am pleased to say that many of you responded, and here they are.

From Paul S, in England.
A vintage postcard depicting Lake Como, in Italy.

From the lovely Karolina, who lives in Edinburgh, Scotland.

From the British blogger, ‘mybeautifulbritain’, who used their own photos to create a unique card for me.

From my long-time cherished blogging friend, Fraggle.
She chose a vintage representation of one of my favourite UK castles.

From Elizabeth, an American blogger who resides in New England.
She chose Californian Sea Otters, her favourite animals.

From the wonderful Lara, who thought it was my birthday, for some reason.
Her husband is from New York, so she chose a card featuring that city.

Wilma is from The Philippines, but has made her home in Chicago.
She sent me a view of ‘The Windy City’.

David Miller, one of my oldest blogging friends, sent me this view of Las Vegas.
It is suitably ‘glitzy’, as the card is covered in glitter!

As you can see, I didn’t make a song and dance about getting ‘perfect’ photos of the cards, but I was immensely grateful to receive them all.

If anyone else would like to post one to me, you can read my address easily, and your card will be featured in Part Two.
Thanks again to all of you who took the time and trouble to send me a card.

Ollie’s skin, and his fur

~ beetleypete ~ 55 Comments

Poor Ollie has had a bad summer. The late arrival of extremely hot weather has thrown his system out completely.

The unusually hot weather has made him begin to moult with a real severity. His fur is covering the house, and coming out in handfuls every time he is stroked or petted.

We have seen a return of the large bald patches we call his ‘crop circles’, and the poor dog has been a martyr to scratching, and feeling uncomfortable. His only relief seems to come from dozing or sleeping, and he has little energy for play, or his usual antics.

Most daily walks have been spent with him spending too much time standing in the river, and I have become weary of telling him, “Stop scratching!”

So next Monday he has been booked in early with the dog groomer. He will get that fur hand-stripped, have a nice bath, his toenails cut, and his ears cleaned out.

We can only hope that this will cure some of his irritations, and frustrations. It’s the least we can do.

Signs Of Autumn

~ beetleypete ~ 54 Comments

As August comes to a close, the familiar signs of autumn are appearing in Beetley. The grass has stopped growing on the lawn, and the roses have all died off on the bushes. With the first strong breezes we have had for some time now, small branches and leaves are beginning to drop from the two oak trees that cover our front and back gardens.

Last night was the first time for days that I was able to sleep untroubled by unpleasant humidity, and there was even a light mist when I woke up this morning.

But by far the biggest sign is that the acorns are falling. They are falling in their hundreds, rattling off the various roof areas, outside furniture, and guttering. Our cars parked at the front are being bombarded with a noisy fusillade, and every flat surface is almost covered in the empty shells, acorn nuts, or both.

Shifting these things is an annual task. The only animals that eat acorns are pigs, and EU rules forbid feeding acorns to pigs now. So they have to be swept into piles, collected into a garden waste bin, and sent off to be used in compost. I cannot imagine how long it takes for the extremely hard shells of acorns to break down, but I suspect it is a long time indeed.

And as I carry out this collection, I have to be careful. Get hit by one, and it is just like being struck by a falling stone. And woe betide you tread on one with bare feet, as it is not unlike stepping on broken glass.

Once the wind gets up, a new kind of sleepless night arrives. One where the sound of falling acorns striking the windows and paths resembles gunfire, and makes it hard to sleep undisturbed.

But this is country living, as the seasons change.

One For The Ladies

~ beetleypete ~ 42 Comments

I grew up during the age of ‘Women’s Liberation’. Long-suffering females finally protesting their lot in life, their treatment in a male dominated society, and the interference in the natural functions of their bodies. Outspoken feminists like Germaine Greer finally got some air time to express their frustrations, and to promote their quest for equal treatment. Female workers were protesting in factories and offices about doing the same job for less pay, and with almost no opportunities for advancement.

This was the time when some women were discarding or burning their bras to make a statement.
(Note the audience of excited men watching that happen)

Women had spoken up for their rights before of course.
Like these Suffragettes campaigning for the right to vote, in 1910.

This was also a time when it was difficult to get justice for victims of Rape.
Women who wore attractive clothing, and went out for a drink with a man, were often considered to be ‘asking’ for sex.

Very soon, the words ‘Sexist’ and ‘Sexism’ were seen and heard all around the world.
Along with brave women protesting the existence of both.

More recently, body image has been protested too. Tired of seeing the ‘ideal woman’ portrayed as thin and conventionally ‘attractive’, some have taken the step of showing what many real women actually look like.
Well done to them!

Despite everything, it remains an uphill struggle to this day.
As shown by this woman’s solo protest.

And even after the discovery of DNA testing, and some changes in the laws, Rape victims are still struggling to get recognition and justice.

Keep going ladies. Many of us are on your side!

Lost Expressions

~ beetleypete ~ 71 Comments

English is a complex language. The version written in North America attempts to simplify some of it, with spellings like ‘Nite’, instead of ‘Night’. But here in Britain, we have regional accents to make it even more confusing, with the use of words that may mean nothing to someone only a hundred miles away. Slang makes the situation worse, especially in large cities like London and Newcastle, where some areas have almost a separate language.

New words arrive all the time too, often driven by technological advances. Words like ‘Byte’, ‘Laptop’, ‘Megapixels’ and ‘Microchip’. That last word is even more confusing, as we already had ‘Micro Chips’. They were french fries, designed to be cooked in a microwave oven.

Along the way, we lost many English expressions. They were once used by almost everyone I ever met, and though sometimes apparently meaningless, easily understood by all.

“Well, I’ll Go To The Foot Of Our Stairs”.
When did you last ever hear anyone say that, I wonder? This was a common saying used to express amazement or surprise, especially in the north of England. I don’t think anyone knows how it originated, but they all knew what it meant.

“Blimey O’Reilly”.
Again used to express shock or wonder, the Blimey part comes from abbreviating ‘Blind me’, and the O’Reilly was probably used just for rhyming purposes.

“Lord, Luv-A-Duck”
A favourite of my grandmother, this was in common usage in London during my youth. Again an expression of dismay or surprise, I don’t think anyone living can explain its origins.

“You’re The Giddy Limit”.
This was usually part of a telling-off, for being naughty. I suspect it implies that the naughtiness is so extreme as to make the person giddy. Whatever the origin, it appears to be a lost expression now.

“Three Sheets To The Wind”.
This was commonly used to describe a person who was very drunk. I still use it regularly, if I see a drunk person staggering around. It has a nautical origin, as sails were secured by ropes or chains called ‘sheets’. If three of these become loose, the sail will be uncontrollable, and the boat will lurch around on the waves.

“In One Fell Swoop”.
This originates in Shakepeare’s Macbeth, and denotes a fierce action resolving a situation with speed and ruthlessness. I last used it to remark on the chatting up skill of a work colleague.
I turned to a friend, and said “In one fell swoop, he will have her back to his flat, and in his bed”. I think that was in 2006.

So there are six expressions pretty much lost to common parlance. Let me know any you can think of, in the comments.

The Swinging Sixties: My London

~ beetleypete ~ 85 Comments

As a teenager in London during the 1960s, I witnessed first hand the explosion of modern fashion and music that became known around the world as The Swinging Sixties. As well as the music scene, fashion for ‘ordinary people’ suddenly arrived. Young designers, boutique shops, and modern clothes that rocked the stuffy attitudes of the time.

Mary Quant led the way, designing the first ever mini-skirt, and exposing the legs of a generation of women for all to see.

Here she is (in the hat) presenting a new collection in the early 1960s.

The women modelling the clothes became celebrities for the first time too. The teenage model Lesley Hornby was known professionally as ‘Twiggy’. She was a Mary Quant model, and her child-like appearance and stick-thin body epitomised the style being promoted. Twiggy is still as popular as ever today, remaining a household name.

Certain areas of London soon became associated with fashion. People flocked to them, just to be seen, or to see others.
King’s Road in Chelsea was a popular Saturday haunt.

In up-market Kensington, the Biba store attracted fashion shoppers too.

But it was Carnaby Street, close to Piccadilly Circus, where the scene exploded. Every shop sold fashionable clothes, many of which were affordable to teenagers working in regular jobs.

Just standing around and posing in your new outfit became popular, and many Londoners would take the trip to the centre just to look at the more fashionable girls strutting their stuff.

The music scene was heavily associated with fashion too. Here a young man dressed in ‘Mod’ clothes poses outside the popular ‘Flamingo’ nightclub, in Soho.
Nobody would have dared to go to one of these clubs without wearing the ‘right’ clothes.

But for me as a teenage boy, it was all about the legs. As skirts got shorter, and women grew their hair longer, spotting glamorous young women on the street was a very pleasant pastime indeed.

Let me know if you are old enough to have some fond memories of the wonderful Swinging Sixties.

Some more Blogging Positives

~ beetleypete ~ 41 Comments

After a long fiction serial, and lots of historical photo-posts, I thought I would get back to saying more nice things about Blogging.

The new bloggers continue to appear to ‘get it’. I have had some nice communication with brand new bloggers who have recently followed my blog, and they seem to have caught on very quickly about ‘Likes’, ‘Comments’, and replying to other bloggers too. This is very pleasing to me, and encouraging as well.

Some people are still using that ‘X invites you to follow his/her blog’ thing, provided by WordPress. My advice to you new bloggers, don’t use that. We are unlikely to accept your invitation, as most of us are already following far too many blogs, or happily rooted in our existing communities.

Many of you new bloggers are posting some great stuff too. In the last few days, I have seen some lovely photos, read a couple of excellent poems, and enjoyed the travel reports of a blogger in South America. That’s great!
It means that new bloggers are rapidly realising that blogging is not Facebook, and we don’t really need to see a photo of the fast food you had for lunch, or your mouth adorned in ten different colours of lipstick.

As we approach the autumn of 2019, I still believe that this has been the most positive year for new bloggers in a very long time. I hope that all those new bloggers keep going, and do not allow themselves to be discouraged by an initial lack of followers, or numbers of views much lower than they might have expected. It’s a long process, but you will get there in the end. You just have to keep working at it.

After blogging for over seven years now, and taking time to become part of a wonderful community of true blogging friends, I have never felt so positive about blogging as I do today. My own list of followers is growing healthily, and my daily views exceeded 500 on one day, for the first time ever. But this post is not about me, it is about all of you who have decided to take the plunge into blogging, during 2019.

Don’t worry. You are doing well, very well. And you are (mostly) doing it just right too. Well done to you all, and welcome to the wonderful (and addictive) world of blogging.

My thanks to all of you who have followed this blog, and my congratulations for ‘getting it’ too. If I have not acknowledged your follow, it is probably because you have not connected your blog site to your gravatar. How to do this can be found here. https://wptavern.com/connect-wordpress-sites-to-your-gravatar-profile

Or because you were trying to sell me something!

Best wishes to all bloggers, old and new. 🙂

Pete.

Historical Denial: The Modern Evil

~ beetleypete ~ 84 Comments

***WARNING! DISTRESSING IMAGES***

I have been upset to discover that the old chestnut of ‘Holocaust Denial’, is going the rounds again. Far right propagandists in Britain, some other European countries, and even parts of America are going on record as claiming that the murders in the concentration camps of Nazi Germany never happened. They claim that they were ‘staged’ later, by the Allies, hoping to blacken the name of Germany throughout history.

This poor young woman was about to be subjected to obscene medical experiments.

Her name, and the details of those experiments, were meticulously recorded by the Nazis.
She could be your daughter.

There have been millions of pages of documented evidence of this staggering atrocity. Not least the careful records kept by the Nazis themselves, as well as the film records they were happy to shoot at the time. Then there is the heartbreaking testimony of the all-too-few survivors, the books written, and the tragic personal stories. In addition, we have the film records of those who liberated the camps; soldiers from Britain, Russia, and The United States.

But none of this seems to be enough for those vile people who continue to insist that none of it happened.

I have found these photos online, for the benefit of those of you who might be too young to have seen such images, or perhaps chose not to look at them.

Please look at them now. Never forget what happened, and how it could so easily happen again.

I have decided not to caption any of the photos. They speak for themselves.

These are people, not objects. Not ‘things’. People, like you and me.
They had hopes and expectations, ambitions and aspirations. Families.
Try to imagine this happening to your family. I doubt you can
Neither can I.







The Real Americans

~ beetleypete ~ 55 Comments

When I was a schoolboy, Native Americans were known as ‘Red Indians’. All I knew about them was that they wore feathered headdresses, attacked wagon trains, and rode around on horses making a strange whooping sound. They lived in tepees, and liked to fight the US cavalry, as well as killing white settlers in the ‘Wild West’. They were easily pleased with gifts of small items like mirrors, blankets, or beads, and the men got drunk very easily on whisky, which they apparently called ‘fire-water’. When they decided to make peace, they passed around a large ‘peace-pipe’, which had to be smoked by all concerned. Some of their leaders, like Geronimo, Sitting Bull, and Crazy Horse were very well-known, even in Britain.

Of course, this was all very far from the truth. It failed to address the awful treatment of the indigenous peoples by white settlers, and the US government. The exploitation of the tribes, the theft of their ancestral lands and the destruction of the buffalo they depended on. False imprisonment, rape, abuse, kidnapping, forced relocation, and massacres.

In 1964, I went to see a film called ‘Cheyenne Autumn’. For the first time, the plight of Native Americans was treated with some sympathy. By the time I was 18 years old, in 1970, two films attempted to expose the atrocities carried out by the US governments of the time, with ‘Soldier Blue’, and ‘Little Big Man’. Finally, Hollywood was trying to give us some insight into the complex tribal society of Native American Tribes; their spirituality, culture, and long-standing traditions. But they still us gave us their version.

It is plain to see that things never recovered for most Native Americans. Despite some casino licences, and wider recognition of some of their rights, they remain very much an underclass in modern-day America.

These photos were taken between 1880, and 1912. Some have been ‘colourised’. They show beautiful women, proud handsome men, and well-loved children. The original Americans.

A handmade beautiful dress.

An unusual distinctive headdress.

A young warrior, displaying his cherished rifle.

A young woman in a lovely robe.

A young man wearing ‘western-style’ clothing.

A proud warrior with a tribal hairstyle.

Young women in traditional dresses.

And a well-dressed child.

So the next time you watch a US Cavalry film starring John Wayne, or one depicting Native Americans as heartless savages, think of the real people behind the myth.

Just been watching…(112)

~ beetleypete ~ 36 Comments

Snowpiercer (2013)
***No spoilers***

I watched this film a long time ago. It was late at night, and I admit I had consumed some wine. I remember thinking it looked good, and enjoying the big-name cast. Then last week, I read a review of the film on the blog of the lovely Abi. https://abbiosbiston.com/2019/08/23/movie-review-snowpiercer-2013/

That jogged my memory, and I decided to watch it again, courtesy of Netflix.

The general idea is that scientists on Earth decide to stop global warming. They do this by adding a newly-discovered chemical to the atmosphere, designed to reduce the temperature considerably. Of course, it doesn’t go as planned, instigating a worldwide ice age that kills off most of the life on the planet. The last remaining humans are surviving aboard a very long train, the Snowpiercer of the title.

The train is designed and owned by the man known simply as ‘Wilford’. He has invented a self-perpetuating engine, and the train runs a circular route around the world, taking one year to complete each circuit on a specially-built track. Inside the train, social structure is tightly maintained, with a poor underclass right at the back, and the wealthy and influential closer to the front. Those at the back are forbidden from moving forward, policed by a private army that controls them rigidly. They are fed a ‘protein jelly’, and kept in relative darkness, regularly counted and ordered around.

Their treatment causes stirrings of rebellion of course, and they look to two leaders to organise a revolt. One is the elderly sage, Gilliam. (John Hurt) A wise spiritual leader, he is assisted by the tough warrior, Curtis. (Chris Evans) The people at the back of the train are a mix of types and races. Korean, Chinese, Japanese, Black, alongside the white people. Those nearer the front, the soldiers, and the privileged few, are mostly white of course.

So we have a post-apocalyptic thriller, with overtones of a concentration camp film, and also making some statements about racism, equality, and the desperation of mankind in a near-impossible situation. “Seen it all before!”, I hear you cry. I know. But this time, it’s on a train!

And the train is good. Despite a stellar cast, including those already mentioned but adding an almost-unrecognisable Tilda Swinton, and the reliable Ed Harris, the train is the star. It feels at all times as if they are on a real train. The different sections, getting ever grander closer to the front, are very well imagined, and the exterior shots of the train in the snow and ice covered landscape are beautifully rendered by CGI. So, is it a good film?

Not really. That will teach me not to watch a film very late at night with red wine on board my system. Despite that great cast, some well executed set pieces, and the marvellous train, it often feels just plain silly. And it is ultimately pointless too. There are much better post-apocalyptic/dystopian dramas out there. This one looks a lot better than it actually is.
Unless you like trains, of course…