Bright And Early

Thursday. 5.40 a.m. You know what they say 'It's the early bird that catches the worm', or something of that sort. Well, it's early (probably far too early!) but I'm here and writing this. 

2.15 p.m. It's turned out to be wet and windy. I have just been to Lidl. I wanted some raspberry jam for my hot cross buns and the Lidl jam is such good value. You get a much larger quantity than you would in Sainsbury's or any other supermarket, for that matter. It also has a higher fruit content. Also, I wanted cream for my pudding. Chocolate fudge something-or-other.

As I was waiting in the queue to pay at the till, the man in front of me had a vast quantity of tomatoes, peppers, of various types and colours and lettuce. I thought to myself, 'he's either going to make a very big salad or else he has lots of rabbits that need feeding' Crazy, I know, but that's the way my mind works.

7.15 p.m. At around 6 o'clock this evening, I was in the bathroom (I won't give too much detail . . .) when there was a flash of lightning and then the most enormous thunderclap. Then, for around 5 minutes or so, there was a very heavy downpour. As I write this, the wind is howling outside.

Good Friday. 5.25 a.m. It's really peaceful on the weather front.

6.40 a.m. The sun is shining as I write this.

I went to the Oaktree Centre for the Good Friday service. It was about an hour long and afterwards, there was tea and coffee, as usual, and hot cross buns, although they weren't hot. I have bought hot cross buns in Sainsbury's and have put them in my toaster and eaten them with raspberry jam.

Saturday. 7.25 a.m. I have mentioned that I lived in Cardington Village, near Bedford, as a child. (there is plenty more about this period in an earlier blog post.) The huge airship hangers are in the distance and dominate the landscape for miles around. The area is known as Shortstown, after the name of the company which was responsible for the building of the airships, Shorts Brothers. It was from these hangers that, in the 1920-1930's that several airships were constructed, notably the R100 and R101. As a result of this, I have been fascinated by the R101, and its later demise, when it crashed near Beauvais, France, on 5th October 1930.  I have found several fascinating videos on YouTube, one showing the inner workings of the earlier airship, the R101 and video footage of the R101 being built. It seems amazing that men who constructed the airship clambered up the sheds and worked on the girders and metalwork without any sort of safety measures in place, something which would never be allowed under 21st-century health and safety legislation. 

I also discovered something else, which has amazed and somewhat shocked me. The internal gas bag of the R101 and, I presume, the R101 and other airships at that date, were made of cow intestines, but, more precisely, the caecum.  In fact, around 50,000 cows' intestines were used to make these gasbags. I imagine that there were no materials, as we have today, such as man-made plastics, which might  have been used. I can imagine today if something was built of cow intestines, there would be outrage from vegetarians and no doubt animal rights campaigners. Not surprising, when you think about it.

12.20 p.m. I've been out with Alfie. We went as far as the rubbish bin on Oldbrook Green. It really is time the Council replaced this bin. It's rusty and falling to pieces. The bin on the opposite side of the Green is also in a dilapidated state. Both have great gaping holes in them, rusty and unsafe. Alfie insisted on cocking his leg against it, probably not helping the rust. I notice some delightful soul has left a bag of, presumably, doggy pooh, in a black bag, tightly tied up neatly, right next to the bin. Could they not have possibly made the effort to put the bag actually IN the bin, or is that asking too much? It has been bright and sunny for most of the morning.