Day Twenty Nine

'Cry, "God for Harry, England, and Saint George!"' 

It’s St. George’s Day.

St George is the Patron Saint of England and The Cross of St. George seen below,  forms the English flag.


According to ancient texts, he was born in Cappadocia, Greece and on being orphaned as a teenager, joined the Roman army during the reign of Emperor Diocletian.

Regarded in many parts of the world as a heroic soldier, George was 'adopted by the Crusaders who took his flag as their military symbol: white for purity of heart and red for the blood they were prepared to shed to take the Holy Land back from what they termed ‘the infidel’. 


Mythology tells us St George slew a dragon and may have saved a fair maiden and here is where fact and fiction become mixed.

The Greek version of George’s story tells of the Empress Alexandra of Rome, wife of Diocletian, who witnessed the courage and stoicism of George and his determination to stick to his Christian faith despite torture and imminent beheading.  She was so moved by this, she too accepted the faith and was, in her turn martyred.

So if you see the dragon as representing  the Emperor, the leader of powerful forces which waged a 10 year persecution to ‘kill’ Christianity, it’s not too far a stretch to say George fought and beat him by prevailing as a martyr. 
Christianity continued and fair maiden Alexandra was ‘saved’ by her faith.

 I particularly like this depiction from Debre Sina in Tblisi, where both George and his horse look cutely surprised and the chap at bottom right seems to be saying, 'I knew we'd have trouble if we bought him a horse.' 



Sharing this day is the most English of writers, William Shakespeare who is said to have been born and died on 23rd April, although 52 years apart.

He made his first entrance upon the world's stage in the house of his father, John, a businessman and worthy who served on local committees and as a magistrate in Stratford upon Avon, Warwickshire.

Academics have been up in arms for decades about his works - did he or others write them? It's neither here nor there. 

At 18, he married Anne Hathaway, with whom he had three children but whether he played fast and loose with her or simply wanted to be fancy free,  it seems she was more sinned against than sinning.  
The long and  short of it was, he very soon decamped to London to earn a living as an actor and playwright.

He collaborated with many other writers and was widely influenced by texts from various parts of the world including Greek and Roman mythology.  In those days,  a foregone conclusion for an educated writer.

Seven years after his death, two of his close friends,  actors John Heminges and Henry Condell put together the First Folio, a collection of Shakespeare's  works.
There was method in their madness;  London  continued to demand Will's plays and sonnets.  

Ben Jonson wrote the introduction, saying Shakespeare was :  "not of an age, but for all time"

It is believed  William is buried at Holy Trinity Church in Stratford but a radar scan in 2016, revealed that the skeleton beneath the stones had no skull.  
Alas, poor Yorick




All the phrases marked in italic and bold are those Shakespear introduced into the language.






Day Twenty Eight


 Day Twenty Eight

Filthy lucre

Having confessed, a few days ago, that I’ve been lying to the kind lady who rings to check if I have developed any symptoms of Covid-19,  I now have to confess to money laundering.

Of course  I’m hiding this from the world. Only here will you learn the truth  but PLEASE don’t tell anyone.

Yesterday, my friend Jose, brought me some previously ordered milk, cheese, a loaf and a can of tuna.    She left them in my mailbox where I’d deposited some cash.

In due course, back she came with food, the receipt and the change.

After she’d driven away, I took in the goodies and, as instructed,  sprayed and washed the milk bottles (can cows as well as tigers get C-19?),  the plastic-covered bread and the can of tuna. 
Whoever would have contemplated a day when we’d shampoo our cheese?

I’d read that C-19 germs can be carried on footwear as well as surfaces but Jose’s feet never crossed my threshold.
Then I began to worry.  
What if I’d stood in the same place at the mailbox she had and my fluffy slippers had picked up Covid bugs like fleas?
 I threw the slippers into a bucket and doused them with disinfectant.

That done, I breathed a sigh of relief, washed my hands (137th time today) made myself a tuna sandwich and relaxed to enjoy my tea.

I was at third bite  when I remembered to my horror I WAS AT RISK FROM MY CHANGE!

I threw down the sammie, donned gloves and mask,  boiled a jug and bunging soap and disinfectant into a dish, laundered the money. 

Perhaps lockdown is getting to me.







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