Cold Handed Man

Great music and great Video by my very talented brother and his friends

Word of the Day, Doldrums

Doldrums - technically an area of the ocean where sailing vessels could become stuck for lack of wind.

More recently - being stuck with nowhere to go and no idea how to get anywhere anyhow.  Remind you of something?

Bad Luck and Trouble - a Jack Reacher Story by Lee Child

I knew I'd read a lot of thrillers in my teens and I knew I'd read at least one Lee Child novel in the past but couldn't for the life of me remember which. Bad Luck and Trouble fell into my hands from a shelf of books for commuters to share and/or replace at the small train station near my home. 

I approve of this trend to put shelves of books in public places. I nearly didn't choose the Lee Child book because it's a thick paperback, but the only other book I felt like reading at the time was a heavy hardback which I really didn't feel like carrying around all day. It seemed a bit random, does anybody else decide what to read based on the weight of the book? 

Anyway I picked up Bad Luck and Trouble and read it on the train to London. 

In London I went to see Macbeth at the Globe theatre - a play in the Globe's indoor auditorium which is without electric lighting. Macbeth, by candlelit, was completely gripping, grim and dramatic. 

On the way home I read some more of the book and finished it the next day. Bad Luck and Trouble is also completely gripping, grim and dramatic. And incredibly well written, the author's skill is mesmerising, drags you along even when you don't want to go. I easily finished the 500+ pages in 36 hours despite the Macbeth distraction. 

Would I read Bad Luck and Trouble again? Probably not, I'll return it to the station bookshelf. I will look for more Lee Child books because of his writing quality. Maybe I'll try the earlier ones so I can see where jack Reacher is coming from. Would I go to see Macbeth again? Yes. Not sure how that comparison stands up, but there it is...

Coffee, My Friend.

I don't like January, although the month which is most likely to drive me to drink is December. But I could give up the demon drink for January; I could, honestly! Or I could give up consuming animal products; although I haven't gone full-on Veganuary, I'm definitely cutting down on dairy this year, but it's harder than it might be, we were given a lot of cheese for Christmas, I'm just trying to make it last the whole month.

Postcard of the Algerian Coffee Stores, established in Soho in 1887.

The one thing I'm certain I could never give up is coffee. I can't wake in the morning without a cup of strong, freshly brewed coffee. And then another with, or even before breakfast and a third mid-morning. One or two more during the afternoon, but not usually in the evening as it does keep me awake, well something does. And I'm picky. The best coffee as far as I'm concerned, comes in the form of black, pungent beans from the Algeria Coffee Stores on Old Compton Street in Soho. When freshly ground these make the smoothest, tastiest most aromatic coffee available in this country. I've been drinking it for 30+ years. Am I a coffee snob? You bet!

I wasn't brought up drinking coffee, or tea for that matter. Those were grown up drinks, we children had water, milk or squash, occasionally hot chocolate. No other stimulants, cola was a rare treat although I never really liked it, I preferred orangeade. The first time I consciously chose coffee was aged about 12 when I wanted to impress an adult who didn't know me and offered me coffee.

Then there was my grandmother whose idea of a treat was to boil full cream milk and mix it with cheap instant coffee powder, a truly vile concoction complete with a slimy skin which formed on the top of the cup long before it was cool enough to drink. I would try spooning the slime into the saucer so I could drink it - not drinking was not an option - and I would still be told off, for making a mess. That was the worst coffee I've ever had.

The best was in Egypt. We were on Holiday in Cairo and had been lured into a warehouse behind a much smaller shop that sold rugs and cushions and leather, camel pouffes. The proprietor was quite certain he could persuade us to buy a larger rug or even a carpet so took us through to his huge, dusty warehouse. He offered us refreshment and when the coffee came it was, obviously Turkish coffee style, sweet and strong but it was also laced with cardamom. The effect was utterly delicious, I've since had the cardamom infused coffee elsewhere and even made it myself, but that first taste in the dusty carpet warehouse is still one of my best coffee memories. Did we buy a carpet, 'La, shukran,' just an un-stuffed camel pouffe, much easier to carry onto the plane to Manchester!

So when I'm old and grey - any minute now - and a medical person, who doesn't know anything about me apart from a few stats on a computer screen, says to me "You should probably give up drinking coffee you know, have a nice cup of decaf tea," I will decline sweetly, go home and have a nice cup of extra strong Algerian Special - no sugar, but maybe a pinch of cardamom.

Hard Wired By Kathleen Mckay - book review

Hard Wired  by Kathleen Mckay - 

(my goodreads book review)

The title phrase 'Hard Wired' implies that certain people are inherently
inclined to commit certain offences. The lead character, Charlie, who works in a Newcastle bail hostel, believes this and when Darren, her friend Di's teenage son, is murdered Charlie can't decide who to suspect the most out of all the men in the hostel. To help her friend, she takes on the mantle of private detective and soon finds it just isn't that simple.

A very character driven story, we believe in Charlie, she's convincingly well intentioned and flawed. She's often distracted or exhausted and gets understandably sidetracked by important life events. She is also strong, she has to be. She helps Di who goes to pieces, while herself mourning 15 year old Darren who she's known from infancy. At the same time she holds down a difficult job, often on night shifts, alongside coping alone with her own teenage daughter, following the death of her partner. In other words, Charlie has her hand full before she even takes on the tricky task of investigating Darren's murder when the police appear to lose interest.

Overall, Hard Wired is a good read. It's not the archetypal whodunnit with lots of clues dropped in for readers to try to follow and it's definitely not just engrossed with police procedures, but rather more a study of how grief and loss can affect individuals. And there are a lot if individuals, all drawn with some conviction. The number of realistically drawn people makes the plot line confusing a times, but then murder stories are meant to mislead. I will probably read this one again.

And Finally... they Voted...

I lose sleep, frequently, over the unpatriotic, self-seeking disloyalty and short-sightedness displayed by this garbage of a government, and the cowardly, arrogant dolt who started it all quite unnecessarily.  





I could be even ruder, without using a single expletive, that might well by my only achievement for today. I refuse to use the B word.

Albert Camus, The Outsider - Book Review

 I've entered this as 'read'  in my Goodreads listings because I can't get rid of the thing otherwise. I  tried reading it twice, haven't finished it and probably never will. Progress stalled, can't get on with it. Involving descriptions in places but no empathy with the characters. This is presumably what the author intended, but I find it off-putting.

I'm sure it's a very clever book, modernist, absurdist, Kafkaesque etc. Subject, alienation. My response was to become alienated, I couldn't be bothered with the protagonist, his surroundings or his life.

So I gave him two stars, maybe because Marie said he had a face like a funeral.

The gobbledegook below is supposed to be a link to the Goodreads post but they never even appear properly, never mind work as links. Which increases my sense of alienation...………….



 href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15686.The_Outsider" style="float: left; padding-right: 20px"><img border="0" alt="The Outsider" src="https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1435772042m/15686.jpg" /></a><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15686.The_Outsider">The Outsider</a> by <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/957894.Albert_Camus">Albert Camus</a><br/>
My rating: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2525726324">2 of 5 stars</a><br /><br />

Vituperation - Word of the Day

Vituperate
Vituperative
Vituperation - all variants on the Word of the Day. Relating to currently very popular internet activities of a supposedly conversational character.

I wonder why.

Palm Oil, Why is it in Almost Everything I Try to Buy?!

Does bread and breakfast cereal need to contain Palm oil? What about peanut butter and lemon meringue pie? Or toothpaste, or shampoo? Of course not, so why the hell is it there?? Companies who claim that their palm oil is sustainably sourced are very seldom telling the truth; they either don't know and take someone else's word for it, or they more likely don't care. Forest destruction and the slaughter of wildlife continues, while they are still filling almost every product we can buy with unnecessary palm oil.

On a recent journey I was thirsty. Stopped at the small Tunbridge Wells service station on the A21 and nearly bought a bottle of M & S sparkling Florida Orange drink. But saw in time that it contains palm oil so put it back. Why a soft drink of any kind needs to contain oil, let alone palm oil, is beyond my comprehension. What was in them before palm oil became the go to ingredient for every manufactured product in the universe? Palm oil comes from the nut, palm kernel oil which is used in soaps etc comes from the outer layer around the nut. 

So, when did palm oil become ubiquitous? Not before the 1960's. I understand that the oil palm tree - Scientific name: Elaeis guineensisis - originated in West Africa, where it's been used by humans for four or five thousand years. But don't blame Africa, the continent itself uses all the palm oil grown there. Its spread to Indonesia and Malaysia began in the nineteenth century, introduced by colonial Europeans from The Netherlands and Britain. However it wasn't until the 60's that oil palm plantations in the Far East began to spread beyond what had previously been rubber plantations and onto land carved and burned out of the rainforests.

The oil palm is an easily cultivated, highly productive tree and creates more usable oil from its nuts than any other tree on the planet. So it's cheap, easily available and who cares about the orang-utans, or the forest ecosystems, or the carbon released into the atmosphere by their destruction? Not the companies producing and exporting the oil, that's for sure. And we're to blame for encouraging them.

New Year Resolution - What's mine? Less Waste, More Thrift.

Is there any point to making a new year's resolution? I'm bad at keeping up random commitments/expectations of myself at the best of times and I suspect plenty of other people are too. I'm making no judgements. I have no intention of expounding any expectations I'd like to have for my family, friends, country, Prime Minister, Jeremy Corbin, East Coast Mainline trains, European Union, Huddersfield Town FC, Brexit, Monster Raving Loony Party, Old Uncle Tom Cobbley and/or all. But I have quietly made a commitment relating to my post of 8 August 2018:-

https://sugswritersblog.blogspot.com/2018/08/its-environment-stupid.html

Any sane commitment I make for the future has to be aimed at helping to save the environment. So for now, mine is that I shall try to be less wasteful. I started by saving some of the Christmas wrapping paper, ribbons and ties that were used. I do remember that my grandparents, both sides of the family, did this and really nice, good quality wrapping paper often reappeared three or four years running before finally being consigned to the fireplace or bin. They didn't do this because of serious poverty but through innate thrift, which we seem to have forgotten is a virtue.

Wrapping paper is largely insignificant, do I realise this and will try to do more, much more. Just as soon as I get over this damn horrible cold! At least the dirty tissues have gone in the stove and briefly helped to keep us warm, thus saving a minute puff of gas.