Tim Atkinson's Blog, page 79

Bells on Sunday

You've got to love the sound of Church Bells. I know the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) didn't approve  but there's something so English, so evocative about a Sunday morning peal. BBC Radio Four may have callously discarded the UK Theme from its broadcasts some years ago but if you're awake early enough (on either Sunday or Monday mornings) you can hear a recording of church bells in all their clanging glory.



Housman not only mentions them in his poetry, but mentions these very bells, the bells we heard while on holiday in the forgotten gem of English counties, Shropshire. In 'The Recruit;, he writes:



Leave your home behind, lad,

And reach your friends your hand,

And go, and luck go with you

While Ludlow tower shall stand.


Oh, come you home of Sunday

When Ludlow streets are still

And Ludlow bells are calling

To farm and lane and mill,





And here they are. The ring of ten bells is considered to be among the finest in the country, and are of considerable historical interest. Six were cast in 1792 by Abraham Rudhall of Gloucester with the tenor weighing in at 17cwt. They are tuned to Fifth Comma Meantone Temprement and are in the key of E. So now you know...

A Shropshire Lad

We've just spent a week in Shropshire - lovely county made lovelier by the weather. I think we enjoyed the best week of the summer!



Of course it's the county of poetry - the poetry of Housman - and as he's always been a favourite of mine (largely, it has to be said, through the musical settings of his work I've sung on various occasions) but I thought today I'd share a poem that is neither from 'A Shropshire Lad' nor -- as far as I'm aware - known chiefly as a song thanks to the efforts of George Butterworth, Ivor Gurney or Graham Peel. It's entitled simply XL and comes from the collection 'Last Poems' selected by Housman from his unpublished work for the benefit of his dying friend, Moses Jackson.



Housman's own rather self-effacing introduction states baldy that:



'I publish these poems, few though they are, because it is not likely that I shall ever be impelled to write much more...'



But the collection contains some gems that deserve better recognition, among them this:



Tell me not here, it needs not saying,

What tune the enchantress plays

In aftermaths of soft September

Or under blanching mays,

For she and I were long acquainted

And I knew all her ways.



On russet floors, by waters idle,

The pine lets fall its cone;

The cuckoo shouts all day at nothing

In leafy dells alone;

And traveller’s joy beguiles in autumn

Hearts that have lost their own.



On acres of the seeded grasses

The changing burnish heaves;

Or marshalled under moons of harvest

Stand still all night the sheaves;

Or beeches strip in storms for winter

And stain the wind with leaves.



Posses, as I possessed a season,

The countries I resign,

Where over elmy plains the highway

Would mount the hills and shine,

And full of shade the pillared forest

Would murmur and be mine.



For nature, heartless, witless nature,

Will neither care nor know

What stranger’s feet may find the meadow

And trespass there and go,

Nor ask amid the dews of morning

If they are mine or no.

Childhood

I haven't been tagged in a long time, and when I have, I'll admit I've been rather slow to respond.



But when I read why Emma (MeTheManAndBaby) tagged me yesterday I was not only pleased but knew I'd have to instantly respond.



On the face of it, the task iss simple: choose a picture that says 'childhood' to you and blog about it.



The reality behind it is more urgent. Because WorldVision has until the 30th August to make the most of their matched funding from DFID. Every £1 donated will be doubled by the government. What better time could there be to donate some money knowing it will help fund long term aid projects that will in turn help to rescue lost childhoods and put hope into the future of West Africa?



So here's my picture, taken on Sunday in a hay meadow. That's what childhood means to me: freedom, the freedom to have fun, freedom from the cares and worries that plague many far too early in West Africa.



Now it's your turn. Find a picture that says childhood to and blog about it. Tell everyone about the matched funding opportunity at DFID and include the link: https://www.worldvision.org.uk/giving...



And as they're trying to double the impact, try to tag two others to join in. I'm choosing @mumsgoneto and @singleparentdad but you don’t have to wait to be tagged to join in.



Tweet, share of Facebook, Pinterest, G+ and use the hashtag #LostChildhood if you can.



All entries will be pinned to the WorldVision Pinterest Board and the best entries will feature on their blog.



So, what does childhood mean to you?

Frugal family fun

Of course, with the holidays upon us there's fun to be had and that usually comes at a price. But it needn't be expensive to be entertaining. If you're in south Lincolnshire on the last Saturday of the month I defy you to find more fun for a fiver (that's the the entire family!) than the Evergreens Miniature Railway at Stickney.








Here's how much Charlie enjoyed it. At one point, having done a circuit on all the available trains I suggested we have a break and go to the cafe for an ice-cream. 'Oh daddy, do we have to have an ice-cream? Can't we stay on the trains?' Words I'll wager I'll never hear again. Unless, of course, we go back here. Which we will...



And talking of frugal fun, you have to take a look at this thrifty little eBook from three of my favourite bloggers - Jen, Cass and Becky.







It's packed full of fun and each week they list 5 indoor activites, 5 outdoor activities and 5 recipes you can make with your kids. There's enough to keep everyone busy and happy for the whole six week holiday here and I guarantee it'll be one of the best £4 you spend this summer - if only because it'll save you spending a whole lot more. Here's the link to the book on Amazon: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Frugal-Fun-Enjoying-holidays-ebook/dp/B008CNJEWW where you can even take a peek inside, just to make sure it's money well spent.

We're all going on a...

Well, I would say 'summer' - but will it be? I would say 'holiday' but tell me this: - do parents ever get one?



I have to confess to being a mite Meldrew about the whole vacation thing. I'm not really sure I like holidays that much. Or rather, I like the being away - I love seeing new places, doing new things - but I can't stand the 'going'.



It's not really even the travelling that does for me; I quite like journeys. I enjoy protracted peregrinations as much as I enjoy arriving at our destination.



So what is it, then? What casts such a long shadow over all my attempts to have a happy holiday?



It is this: packing. Yes, packing. Packing cases, packing the car, unpacking, thinking about packing, washing clothes and making everything ready for packing and anything else to do with the bloody packing.



The British weather doesn't help either. If only a couple of pairs of shorts, some polo shirts and a pair of sandals would suffice. But, no. We've got to be prepared for any and every meteorological eventuality. Come rain or shine we've got to have the clothes to match.



And then there's the kids clutter; the paraphernalia that you need for taking little people anywhere. Once you've folded the pushchair and packed the travel cot there's little room for anything else - which ought to make things easier, but doesn't.



So, we're girding our loins again for the loading and unloading marathon and one thing's certain. By the time we've done all that washing and ironing and packing and fetching and carrying...



... we'll need a holiday!

Sunday Supplement

It's a play away day today and although the weather might at last have taken an upward turn, the following additions to the toy shop shelves should prove useful and educational come rain or shine.



First, the Mega Bloks Play n Go Table. We've had a bag of Mega Bloks for some time and they're great for tiny fingers not quite yet dexterous enough for Duplo (to say nothing of the fun to be had with them for years thereafter!). The problem with these kind of things, as any parent knows, is that they either live in the dogs basket or else cripple unsuspecting (and barefooted) parents.





Which is where the Play n Go Table comes in. Not only does it keep the Mega Bloks out of harms way off the floor, but it provides a handy, toddler-friendly surface for the many and varied construction projects Mega Bloks makes possible. 




And now for something completely different. Chuggington, to be precise. These characterful little trainees are now available from Tomy as a range of die-cast engines along with track sets, perfect for recreating the adventures of the little trainees as they learn the lessons of railway life - as well as life itself - in the course of their day-to-day adventures. The great thing about railway engines - from Thomas the Tank to Wilson, Coco and Brewster is that they're such wonderful vehicles (pun noted, but not intended) for teaching kids about life, the universe and... well, railways engines. And these engines have whole boilers full of personality; harnessed to a pre-schooler's imagination they're a great resource, and highly recommended.



Elsewhere, Mojomums - a lifestyle and recruitment site to help mums get back to work and achieve satisfactory work/life balance - has launched just recently and is well worth a visit, as is the Duracell Bunny Facebook page, where next week there'll be a special prize giveaway for everyone who plays the Beach Volleyball games at www.Facebook.com/Duracelluk. 




And if all that sounds a but too energetic for a Sunday, sit back and enjoy the sight of others doing it instead...











Have a great day! 

How's your driving?

I'll admit I do get a little exercised by other people's driving. But most of the time it's as a pedestrian, observing the behaviour of the drivers thundering past way over the so-called speed limit as I negotiate the pavement with two toddlers. And it's not only when they're behind the wheel that the buggers irritate me. Why in the name of everything holy do they have to park on the bloody pavement, for goodness' sake? Of course, it's out of consideration for their fellow drivers, making it easy for them to pass without the need to slow down or - worse still - stop completely and wait for someone coming in the opposite direction.



And then there's exiting from a drive or car-park. People, when you do this, you are crossing the PAVEMENT. That little bit before you hit the road is MINE and if I'm on it I have PRIORITY. Just as you wouldn't expect me to stand in the middle of your road holding up the traffic while I wait to continue on my way, I don't expect you to sit in your car across the pavement until such time as there's a gap to pull into.



And finally, people behind the wheel as I walk beside you, why do so many of not own a hands-free kit? And I'm talking to the one-armed bandits driving HGVs in particular here. It's not as if they're that expensive. And compared to the risks your taking - with your livelihood and our lives - it's a pittance.



Oh dear. I've become as ranty as some of the people in this video by Quotemehappy.com who have just done some research into our driving habits. You can take an online test and see how you compare, if you like.



But in the meantime, remember - I'm watching!



What gets your goat as a pedestrian?

A Royal Flush

Just to prove The Daily Mail wrong, and give Ms Middleton's Party Times something regal, wholesome and positive to 'publish' on their website this morning (please see this post if none of the above makes sense!) I hereby wish to make known that I, Tim Atkinson, writer of 'excoriating diatribes' and 'anti-monarchist rants' will, this afternoon, be in a state of voluntary obeisance to a genuine, real, Royal blood Princess - The Princess Royal herself, no less.


You see, Princess Anne (as I believe she is sometimes known) is deigning to visit the town and attend a church service at which I am singing. I've been vetted for the occasion by security (not G4S, either) and far from being blackballed as the 'vehement anti-monarchist' that the Daily Mail would have you believe that I am, I have a pass and have been told how to behave in the unlikely event that Her Royal Highness deign to speak to one.


I feel vindicated. Her Royal Highness is clearly aware of the way the Mail has been treating me these past weeks and has engineered the visit as means of re-instating my royalist credentials. Oh, and she's opening the new loos at Boston Stump, too.



But only I know why she's really here.



Thank you ma'am!

Farewell, Bush House

Another golden era endeth. Today, at midday BST (such distinctions are important in this case), the BBC broadcast for the final time from Bush House, home of the World Service, icon of The Strand and erstwhile populariser of an otherwise little-known Irish jig by the name of Lillibullero.





I'm sure there are all manner of excellent reasons for the move, just as there are for vacating Television Centre. But I can't help feeling, just a little, that something else rather special has been lost.




Knowing it was about to shut its doors forever I tried to have a snoop around earlier this year. I was very polite but the burly men in uniform on the reception desk were having none of it.




'There is an open day, once every year' said one with what I initially thought was a smile. 'You should come to that.'




'Excellent!' I said. 'When is it?'




'Er... July,' he smirked. 




'So...?'




'Yeah. You missed the last one last year.'




Gee thanks. 




But soft! What light from yonder window breaks?' There may be hope yet, in the form of an online auction. You see, the Beeb is selling off the contents of Bush House lock, stock and revolving turntable and there's a chance for prospective buyers to book an appointment to view the lots. In truth I'm unlikely to make it before the auction closes on July 27th (bidding opens tomorrow) so the closest I'm going to get to this little bit of broadcasting history is my vain entreaties with the guards in the Bush House lobby combined with my almost nightly listening in the small hours, lying in bed and imagining the lives being lived in the exotic places where the other 160 million regular listeners are hearing the words I'm hearing.  




So I was keen, for old times sake (over 70 years of them, containing the likes of George Orwell, Charles de Gaul, and Paul McCartney to name but three) to listen in today to the final ever moments to be uttered from those hallowed portals. If you missed this little piece of radio history, here it is taken 'off air' as it happened:









It's hardly likely to make the top ten archive broadcasts of all time, but it is in its own small way, history. As, now, is Bush House - at least as far as the BBC is concerned.



And so, it seems, is Lillibullero. I really thought I'd hear that strange, archaic jingle as they faded out from Bush House for the last time. But no. As a station ident it seems to have been replaced by a rather bland chord sequence over which people recite 'BeeBeeCee' in a variety of foreign accents.



All rather strange. But then so, in its way, was Lillibullero - an odd song about Irish nationalist ambitions and hardly the stuff of nations speaking 'peace unto nation(s)'. But a comforting tune to millions in its World Service incarnation, over many decades and in hundreds of distant lands. If they won't play out with it, I will...

The squeezed middle

Sneeze, and you'd have missed my contribution to the 'debate' on local radio this morning about cutting benefits. I was asked yesterday if I'd be willing to discuss the so-called 'squeezed middle' and - in particular - what measures government could introduce to help families. In the event I was on the 'phone listening to what amounted to a party political broadcast by the Conservative Member for Stamford and Grantham, Nick Boles which turned out to be about bus passes and the winter fuel allowance for pensioners.



If you did sneeze, I managed to make a point (apropos giving benefits to all pensioners, irrespective of income) about the ridiculously unfair method of means testing child benefit scheduled to be introduced shortly but - frankly - I wouldn't go hunting for it on iPlayer if I were you. My other contributions - such as they were - consisted of trying to get a word in edgeways while Nick Boles was talking, something he seemed to be allowed to do for an inordinately long time.



Never mind. I've got this blog to put my views across, which is just as well as I've got plenty. As, no doubt, have you. And what I'd like to know is what I was originally asked on air to discuss. Forget bus passes for a moment; put pensioners to one side. There is plenty to debate there, another time. But what I'd be interested to hear is what you think needs to be done to help struggling families. Is it right to withdraw universal access to child benefit so that those that need it, get it? Or should everyone be entitled equally to help bringing up a family? And what about maternity entitlement? Paternity leave? Parenthood is, after all, the most important job in the economy: without children, there's no workforce, no doctors, nurses, care workers to look after the elderly. Every nation on the planet frets about its birth rate (although in China, it's for slightest different reasons admittedly).



My own view is that if half the time, energy and air-time were devoted to securing genuine contributions through taxation of those currently employing hordes of accountants and financial advisers to avoid paying their dues, we'd save an awful lot more than the paltry £1.4bn Nick Boles claims taking bus passes away from little old ladies will achieve.



But what's your view? Should we all have to tighten our belt? Or should it depend on your waist size?