Fighting fixtures

I’m off to the south coast at the end of October, partly to watch the Battle of Hastings (second round replay). It’s a bit of a needle match as the winners get to take over England. I’m not sure of kick-off but I expect there will be mead and chicken legs at half time.

If you fancy joining me, let me know. I think And was interested but I’ve only got room for one in the MR2. Could always hire a van and rough it.

Will try to put up some fresh pictures after next weekend.

C’mon the Saxons!

Thaid up

As some of you know, Steve is working in Thailand at the moment.

I spoke to him yesterday and had a text from him this morning. It sounds like he’s unaffected by the coup and reckons he’ll be back on Friday.

Home on the range

I’ve just spent a few days wandering the Herefordshire countryside with just a map and some food, pausing only to take pictures, sip water and help myself to the abundant blackberries.

I’ve come to really love these country rights of way, the green roads, river banks and woodland walks. It’s a fantastic way to get away from traffic.

And so many nature highlights. Star billing went to the redstart but I also saw blackcaps, buzzards, slow worm, a wee mouse feasting on a blackberry, salmon leaping, and a host of linnets and assorted finches feeding in the stubble. I’m not so good on butterflies so it was with great excitement that I looked up a small yellow job I’d never seen before. Turned out to be a common clouded yellow.

Sadly though, it looks like Herefordshire has been discovered. Virtually every isolated cottage I came across was having money spent on it, and a few of the houses were brand new.

Noah’s park

Had the whackiest dream last night.

Some blokes living in the rented house opposite have started to annoy everyone by attempting to run a car-tuning business in the street. (That’s not the dream, that’s real). It must be bothering me because I dreamed that when they drove off in their beaten-up van I looked round the back of the property to see what was going on. Of course, in dreamland they had an open field system containing – yes you’ve guessed it – two cheetahs, two lions and a stone curlew (a threatened British bird).

I told the RSPCA but they wouldn’t do anything because they were more scared of the illegal traders than the wild animals.

What does it all mean?

And if you think that’s mad, what about the latest council initiative (sic). They want to spend more of our money giving everyone in the city a wheely bin embedded with a microchip and then refit all the waste trucks to read the memory. If you go over your rubbish weight quota you get fined. Brilliant!

As you know, I detest pollution but this has got to be the barmiest solution.

A) We don’t create the rubbish – it’s the supermarkets and junk mailers so get them to pay
B) If people think they are going to get fined, where are they going to stick the surplus?
C) Less scrupulous people than me might think it a hilarious wheeze to swap their own bin with someone else’s

…and what kind of logistical nightmare is that going to create? How many extra staff will be needed to administer the fines and deal with appeals every single week?

You don’t think it’s possible there’s another agenda do you? It seems to my cynical mind that the words tax and fine are becoming interchangable and actually both just mean “extra funding”.

But here’s a radical, heretical plan. Why not spend the money on subsidising free disposal and recycling to encourage everyone to be responsible citizens. (which is what we used to do and what I thought council tax was for).

And as Ruth rightly points out, recycling paper is about the most environmentally unfriendly thing you can do. The best way to trap carbon without using lots of nasty chemicals and additional energy is to grow trees, cut them down to make paper, plant some more, and then bury the waste paper in the ground – just like we used to.

I grow ever more convinced that the lunatics are running the asylum. Either that or I’m still alseep and dreaming.