Day Forty Two

A Yorkshire childhood

I didn’t have the benefit of grandparents as a child but we lived next door to a large family, where the grandfather had been a sailor.   His wife and family had heard his seafaring anecdotes a hundred times and treated them with bored indulgence but I never tired of them.

 In most homes, the front room was kept for ‘best’.  It was regularly cleaned and polished but used on very few occasions. 

Families ate in the back room where the huge black kitchen range kept everything warm and cosy and where all the cooking took place.

The family gathered round the table for each meal and it was in this room, often to the sound of the Billy Cotton Band show, that Dad had his doze by the fire after Sunday dinner.  It was also  where we all relaxed in the evening, listening to the wireless or playing snakes and ladders. 

 In fact, it was where we did most of our living. Not suprising then that we called it a Living Room.

Pop and Nana; I never knew them by any other names;  lived in the front room of the terrace house.  

Their bed took up one wall and was covered with a bright quilt hand sewn by Nana.  There was a glass-doored china cabinet filled with beautiful ornaments and figurines, which on special occasions and under strict supervision, I could take out and hold.  

On the hearth, the most amazing thing of all - a brass alligator.

Alligator nut cracker

 I spent a lot of time with Nana and Pop, sitting on Nana’s knee as she read a magazine, commenting sarcastically on the articles and pictures of film stars. ‘Just look at that flighty piece, showing all she’s got.  I wonder if ‘er mother knaws she wears dresses like that?’ 

But best of all, I loved to sit on a small upholstered buffett by Pop’s knee, listening to his stories. 

First he would fill his pipe, puff on it until it was well alight and clouds of smoke filled the air, then he'd wink at me. ‘Is ta ready fer a story then?’  

   Of course I was.

‘When I were in India,’ he’d begin and I was immediately transported from the back streets of Bradford to some exotic city where the aroma of spices filled the air.

‘We were watching this magician who reckoned he could mek fowk disappear. Well, me and me mates stood there and this bloke played a whistle,  an’ a rope came up off’t ground and started going up and up…’

‘Was someone pulling it, Pop?’

‘Nay lass, it were going up all by itssen, like a snake.’  Here, his hand wove upwards into the air, ‘then this little lad, dressed in nowt but ‘is ippins started to climb up it.’ 

 (ippins = nappy)

 ‘But how could he do that, if no one was holding the rope?’

‘Nah, that’s where’t magic comes in, it’s called the Indian Rope Trick.  Anyroad, as we were watching all this, a monkey, no bigger than one o’ your dollies, were running abaht. He were wearing a little red weskit and one of them hats,’ he turned to Nana, ‘what they called, Mother?’

‘A fez’, Nana replied, not looking up from her knitting.

‘Aye, that’s the one, a fez. It’s like a puddin’ basin.   He kept tekin it off so we could put coins in it. He’d run up us legs, hold onto us jackets and  shek this hat.’

I laughed at this, imagining a tiny monkey wearing a waistcoat a bit like Pop’s.

‘Well, when the little lad gets to’t top o’t rope, Poof! He disappears.’  Pop snapped his fingers, ‘no sign of him. We looked all ovver’t place but he’d vanished into thin air.’

‘But where did he go?’

‘Nay lass, doan’t ask me but summat else had disappeared an’ all.’

‘What, not the monkey?’

‘Aye, him  - and he’d tekken all us wallets wi ‘im!’

  Day Forty One

Colonisation 18,000km apart

When the Vikings came to England in 9^th century, it wasn’t all beer and skittles.

 They were ruthless and vicious and the effects on land, people and language are still felt  today.  

  

 

King Cnut's (Canute) captured territories in red

In many parts of Northern England and Scotland, these invaders killed every man in the settlement.

Apart from the fact that the men would certainly kill them given half the chance, they had another reason for the slaughter.

These were not the shock troops who made swift sorties to grab gold and run home again, these were the colonisers.

They intended to stay, take the enforced widows as wives and force their culture on the locals. 

As many as 35, 000 Danish Vikings did just that as can be confirmed by archaeological finds and the research of many Viking specialists.

King Cnut (Canute) 

King Cnut didn't try to hold back the waves.  He was trying to prove to his sycophantic courtiers that contrary to their assertions, he was not all-powerful.   

Norse is still very near at hand in the North of England. Place names such as Gunnarside and Aysgarth are those given by the Vikings. 

Words which came with the invaders include: barn, anger, cake, egg and flat.

Perhaps it was this knowledge and the enduring impact of that Scandinavian takeover nearly 1,000 years later which resonated when I came from Yorkshire to New Zealand and began learning about Maori culture.

Maori waka taua (warship)

When I saw Maori waka, I could hardly believe how like the Viking longships they were.

Viking longship

The traditional stores houses of the Maori, called pātaka are very much like old Norse store houses. 

Pataka for storing food

This is not really surprising as the basic elevated design of both necessitated protection from rats and other opportunists.

 

Norwegian food store

Dwelling too were alike and that seemed quite strange to me because homes are constructed according to climate. 

Ancient Norwegian painted house

New Zealand and Norway are not comparable.

This is a  wharenui, Maori meeting house, not used for permanent residence but the design similarities are still remarkable.

 And then there’s the decoration. 

Maori kowhaiwhai pattern representing hammerhead sharks

 

Norse decoration

 Of course they're not identical, each one bears its own deep cultural significance but the two countries are some 18,000 kilometres apart. 

Is there any reason why they should have any similarities at all when traditional designs from places much nearer at hand, are totally different?

Day Forty

Rambling: ræm.blɪŋ  adjective. Confused and inconsequential talk or writing.

I’m not usually a bad-tempered person.  I’m kind to small children and puppies, I recycle,  only eat meat once a fortnight and  regularly donate goods to charity shops.

 

However, Lockdown seems to have eroded my tolerance somewhat so that this morning, I yelled at my computer.

It wasn’t exactly the computer’s fault but that of Google, specifically their Calendar.

It came up with a notice, the same one it’s been throwing in my face for the past forty days:

“You have no events scheduled today”

I KNOW, I know, no need to rub it in!!

I may be going deaf.

 On the other hand, as I’ve spoken to no one for ages it may just be that my ears are on strike. 

I frequently mis-hear things. 

Some years ago, broadcaster Arthur Marshall reported hearing on the radio a report: ‘Fighting has broken out in Debenhams.’

  

It worried him until he realised they were speaking about fighting in Lebanon, which worried him even more..   

I was listening to BBC Radio 4 last night,  a discussion about The Crusades.   

The woman speaker said about the English knights, ‘....they became  quite restless when they had no water fight….’

The image of exceedingly bored mediaeval barons throwing down their swords and deciding to squirt one another with  full bladders was quite  entertaining until I realised what she’d actually  said.

‘They became quite restless when they had no war to fight.’    

I felt as deflated as an empty pig’s bladder.

There were several crusades between 1096 and 1271.   In those days, Roman Catholicism was the only religion and when Pope Urban declared the first sortie, he promised massive forgiveness of sins to anyone who took part.

Quin Shi Huang,  Emperor of China once famously said, 'There are only two fitting occupations for a man: fighting and growing food.'

Mediaeval knights who had reputations for being very sinful indeed and didn't know the first thing about food, other than how to eat it,  did a bit of crowdsourcing aka compulsory taxation of the peasants,  and off they went, leaving the women in charge.

So it’s no surprise to discover that during the  time they were out of the way, London became the capital of England;  Eleanor of Aquitane ascended the throne and both Oxford and Cambridge Universities were established.

Coincidence?  

Okay then, what about this?

Just after the knights and barons came back,  the Black Death killed a third of the population.   

In addition to mis-hearing I’m also getting slow-witted. 

A friend rang the other day to tell me she and her husband were buying a joint present for their grandchildren.

It took me quite a while to understand she wasn’t talking about a leg  of pork.

  

Day Thirty Nine

Covid-19 has certainly created some strange situations around the world.

In the USA, several States brought in the compulsory wearing of face masks but Zorro and the Lone Ranger didn't quite get the idea.

 

'Keep your distance!' 

 France is having to re-think laws brought in during 2018. 

The rules,  often seen as anti-Islamic, prohibited face covering,  but may need to be repealed after Les Flic made 33 million arrests.

Police arresting a man in Paris who broke the 'Chapeau stupide' Law of 1987.

People are rushing to grow their own vegetables, quite often indoors where no one has bothered to vacuum the carpets in the spare room since Lockdown began.

Many people in rural areas are also foraging and there’s been a boom in Wild Food recipes.

 The most popular website features Scottish personality Fred MacAulay saying, ‘There’s nothing more enjoyable than growing something in your garden and then having it for dinner.  Last night we had white heather with some grass and tonight we’ll be eating rhododendron leaves and a slug.’

http://fredmacaulay.com

Sources close to MacAulay insist that although he is well known for growing his own, the above does not indicate cultivation of marijuana, known in Scots Gaelic as  'marijuana'.  

Many people have had the opportunity during Lockdown to learn new skills.  
These include certain feats of  endurance such as not washing for 3 months and eating 15 meals a day. 

In warmer climes, some have eschewed laundry and simply stood, fully dressed  under the shower every 17 days or so. 

 Bedding was initially something of a problem until it was realised there was absolutely no need to change the sheets until they actually disintegrated.

Several fashionable Russian ladies waiting in line for their daily vodka supplies

 In Russia, Muscovites have been able to perfect the skill of  ‘The 24/7 Slumber’, the record formerly held only by dedicated vodka drinkers.   This also  saves on food bills.

Queuing at the supermarket is not a problem for most Russians as today’s  5 hour wait outside  Azbuka Vkusa store is nothing  when compared to the Soviet experience of waiting outside GUM for several days to get a tube of toothpaste.

“Я однажды в очереди 3 дня за морковкой”  (I queued 3 days for one carrot) says child.

The Pentagon has released 2 previously classified films of UFOs and many people are querying the move.  
Why now after 17 years of close secrecy?

 

There may be just a wee clue here.  

President Trump (the man whose name means ‘fart’) aka The Orange One had just announced that people could kill the Covid-19 virus by injecting themselves with disinfectant. 

 Other than actually declaring war on China they needed something pretty serious to prevent massive earthquakes due to the world’s 7.8 billion people all falling about laughing simultaneously.

Having watched these films, I’m wondering why they were ever secret in the first place and I confess I’m deeply disappointed.

I was hoping for, at the very least,  Mekon, the ruler of the Treens and Dan Dare’s arch enemy. 

In 1952 when Project Blue Book, the US Air Force's 

programme to collect data on UFOs began, I had high hopes that Dan Dare and his sidekick Digby would help them out.

So I was excited to see what had been kept under such close wraps all these years.  

What we got was a film of an albatross swooping over the sea, then a 2nd albatross spiralling to earth having just been hit by the US Navy plane which filmed it. 

What's so secret about that?

Day Thirty Eight

If you’ve ever read any Greek mythology, you’ll know Zeus was, at best, a lying, obnoxious rapist. Totally dysfunctional, unreliable and disgusting.  
He was married to Hera who spent her time stalking him and then killing or transforming into animals, the women he abused.

Whatever the gods taught us, fair play wasn't one of them.

Why would anyone want to write about the top bloke of the gods as someone who forces himself on every woman and boy he sets his lustful eyes on?   

To make things worse, he could change shape  so the victim often didn’t realise the danger.  Ask Leda.

She offered protection to a swan being chased by eagles, only to be raped - the swan was Zeus.

Scholars tell us the myths were written by Hesiod (700 BC) and Homer (800 BC, The Iliad and Odyssey but then they also say Homer’s father was the river Meles and his Mum the Nymph Critheis.

Given that the Greeks began every breakfast with Barley Wine and carried on imbibing regularly throughout the day, we can take that idea with a pinch of salted fish.

I have a theory, and this will make the hackles of every misogynist rise:  the Greek myths were written by women. 

Who else would write about revered divinity scything his dissolute way through  vulnerable womanhood unless it was as a warning? 

And it doesn’t stop with Zeus, none of the gods and goddesses were the sort of people you’d invite to join the Bridge Club.

Kronos, egged on by his mother, Gaia took a scythe to the private parts of Ouranos. This shouldn’t surprise us, Zeus was his.

Kronos or Chronus is now seen as Father Time (chronology, chronological), the Grim Reaper or Death.   If you slice off someone’s genitals, you certainly make it impossible for them to reproduce; you have stolen their future, stopped time.

Arachne was a skilled young weaver, so talented that she evoked the envy of goddess Athene, who beat her with a shuttle so she could no longer work at her loom.

 Deprived of her passion for making spectacular tapestries,  Arachne hanged herself at which Athena transformed her into a spider.  A spider for goodness sake!  And to think they named the capital city after that nasty goddess, so unfair.

 Narcissists are people who believe the world revolves around them.  Trump is said to be typical,  except that Narcissus was a great looking guy who, as far as I know, wasn’t bright orange with a dead cat on his head.

Narcissus, seeing his reflection in a pool, fell deeply in love with himself.  Oh, don’t feel sorry for him.  He wanted his devotees to kill themselves as proof of how much they loved him. 

Lessons to be learned here at this present time. Hint: disinfectant injections.

The name, Narcissus has been given to a pretty Spring flower but a recent suggestion that the Stinkhorn fungus (phallus impudicus) is named for Old Orange Face has been rejected, even though he is a d*ck and ‘impudicus’ means flaunting.

The only good goddess I’ve come across is Iris.

She had four sisters, two of them Harpies but Iris, in the form of a rainbow, carried messages between earth and the gods.

She too has a flower named after her, as does Hyacinth.

Now there's a sad tale. 

 Hyacithus a martal, and Apollo the god, were friends and lovers who regularly played discus (now you know where Frisbee came from). 

They were engaged thus when Zephyrus,the West wind,  also in loved Hyacinthus, blew by and as Apollo cast the disc, wafted it off course.
It hit poor Hyacinth in the temple,  killing him. No doubt Zephyrus slunk away hoping no one would know but Apollo, devastated, ran to catch up the body of his beloved.

As Hyacynth's blood and Apollo's tears mingled, Apollo wanted to die but gods are immortal, so instead he decided the most beautiful flower of all would be names after his lover. 

  

This is not the bulb we plant indoors to catch the first, fragant scents of Spring but wild hyacinth, or what wenow call the Bluebell.

Greek, Roman, Norse and Maori mythologies often explain how things came to be: why the spider spins such glorious webs for instance.  

They are signposts to modern life and the characteristics of humanity.

Zeus deserved to come to a sticky end but being immortal, he’s still around, still worshipped by around 2,000 persons in Greece.  

 In May 2006, the court in Athens officially recognised the veneration of Zeus and his cohorts.