The God, the Bad & the devil's advocate

Hoodies are very useful whilst vacuum cleaning. The hoody is a much maligned garment with an unfairly tarnished reputation and despite my knowing and indeed my championing of them I still feel out of place wearing one in Holt.
Holt is our local town, a picturesque place which they say would have looked much like Lavenham in Suffolk choc full of medieval beamed houses if it were not for a massive fire in 1708.  The fire was so devastating that within 3 hours the vast majority of the town had been burnt to the ground. As a result the town had to be rebuilt in one 'hit' as it were and so most of the buildings are Georgian in their style making it quite an unusually well co-ordinated town architecturally speaking.

At Christmas, this Wednesday actually, they cover these Georgian buildings with those small LED lights, just about every single high street building and the whole thing sits very pleasantly upon the eye. The town is proud that it has only one chain store and to be honest that is a Boots the chemist which is also probably one of their smallest branches. There are no Starbucks, Cafe rouge, Costa, Pret a Manger, Subways nor are there any Ask, or Macky 'D's, or Burger King or whatever.

They range from the best homemade cakes of the 'Horatio Mugs' cafe to the quirky 'Folly Tea rooms' all are exceptional places to relax and enjoy high quality food made (that's not defrosted) on the premises. The reliance that we seem to have developed for the 'safe' places to eat where they all sell the same formula, and frankly near enough the same menu, is unsettling. What they make up for with good coffee and tea they equally fail with their boring choice of mass produced cakes and lack of all character. The point is that the little guy, cafe's, teashops and pubs and restaurants not only survive but positively thrive here and Holt is full of them. You might even say that the proof of the cake is in the eating.

Anyway, I was in Holt wearing my hoody and I have to admit that I felt that people may have been judging me, putting me in the yob bracket. The truth of course is that I only felt this because in my tiny little under nourished mind I still think that when people look at me they are seeing an 18 year old. I forget about my 54 haggered years and that, actually, to most people I look like a sad old fella who wouldn't harm a fly.

I think it was the latter Michael that the two lady Jehovah's Witnesses thought that they would be greeted by at the front door when they made the error of ringing my door bell a few weeks ago. I normally give them short shrift at the door with a rather boring "Sorry I'm not interested' in answer to whether I would like one of their leaflets. But that time was different. That time I think that I just may of had the devil in me and well I guess if anyone should be able to help with this who more appropriate than a couple of Jeovah's Witnesses.....

I think they rued the day that they came to my house. All the clues looked favourable to them in fairness. Our little jam shop in the porch looked 'homely'. They could see the plaque on the wall in the porch too with a little christian fish etched into it. And if they knew their latin they would have read "Pax Intrailtibus, Salus Exeuntipbus, Benedicto Habitantibus" carved around it. If they didn't know their Latin then they probably would just have thought that we were big Harry Potter fans.
Translated this reads;
Peace (to all) entering (here),
Well being to those leaving,
Blessing (on all) who live here.

AND if that hadn't confirmed that I may be singing from the same hymn book as them then the representation built into the wall out of flints of two fishes, five loaves of bread and (probably the clincher here) the large cross must had made them think this will be any easy win.


Well I had had a reasonably good day and as any of my family will tell you I am at my worse when I'm in a good mood, a real pain in the arse, especially high factor of "devil in 'im".

I answered the door with my usual polite manner, a manner that I maintained throughout. They started off using a new tack, which frankly was long over due as I feel sure that no one ever has a conversation with them unless of course they are of a like mind, which kinda defeats the object of their spreading the word tour.
This new tack was to suggest that they were doing a survey and wanted to ask me some questions. Well if I were a moron or blind then this would have worked but I had seen the group 'hitting' the street and had already sussed out that they were God' nigglers simply by looking at the cheap suits on the guys who had the statutory Jehovah's witness satchels on their shoulders which were rather optimistically brimming over with leaflets.   Along with the 'God' leaflet in her hand it was very clear indeed whom they represented today.

So eventually they got around to my soul, which from all accounts is on the precipice of damnation (and at this point they didn't even see the devil sitting on my shoulder). I allowed them a little free 'talk time' as the mobile phone contracts might put it. Then I felt some healthy debate was required, after all if I am to buy this package then I need to know that I'm not being sold a bum deal.

We 'debated' several points and these are the top line ones, I honestly cannot remember all the points but I do know that at every time that they were stumped they fell back to safe mode telling me that the world will soon end and that I need to make my peace with God now before it is too late. This frustrated me a little because I genuinely was intrigued by my own questions and seriously hoped that they truly did have a good answer!
Questions like... If there are some good people on the earth why has he scheduled the demolition of the whole planet? I mean that's as bad (perhaps even a little worse) than the mean old teacher who kept everyone in detention because the kid that nicked the board rubber wouldn't own up, no names mentioned Chris Thompson! It makes him look a bit of a miserable old coot doesn't it?

or

If I had made the world, right. Then I created people and gave them this world and said enjoy it, I have made it for you then I just pile loads of if's and but's and rules that you can do this and you can't do that. And that we must rest on the sabbeth day with I believe giving thanks every seven days, etc, etc... Could you really say that he made that from an altruistic viewpoint?

Ans; He gave us the gift of life..

Well that doesn't answer my question at all I replied.

I mean, I know that I am a mere human mortal but honestly if I had made a world, a universe and I gave it as a present, I truly promise you that one 'thank you' would be lovely but to keep doing so week after week, well I would personally be embarrassed and after a while I'd think you were just socially inept.

 Ans; He gave us freedom of choice...

Ahh but did he really? Your saying that I have freedom of choice in my actions yet if I choose not to repent to him then I go to hell. Sort of, but more ipso facto.....  Hobsons choice really isn't it. You choose but don't do what I want and you go to damnation. Have you heard the word megalomania?
 I guess I'm asking if it would come over a little less egotistic if had just said here's the world, universe and everything, no catches and I TRUST YOU to set the rules to live by, BUT if you break it, I ain't fixing it? Isn't that the true GIFT of life?

Ans; God works in mysterious ways....

 Well we carried on for some fifteen minutes and I sensed that they were getting a bit discombobulated and so I drew the grilling to a close. I brushed the devil from my shoulder, and a little dandruff too, thanked them for their time and declined a leaflet I then wished them a fond farewell, they looked a little weary as they shuffled off.


I then went back to more mundane worldly things such as hoovering, which brings me right back on track with my original point... Hoodies are really helpful when you are doing the vacuum cleaning. You see I need to take bookings via phone calls which can come any time but if I'm using the vacuum cleaner then I can't hear the phone. So I chuck the phone in my hood as it hangs over my shoulders and it is so near to the head that I can hear it ring!


Post script

I only recorded this blog because a few days back I saw the Jehovah press gang in action again down our street. I observed them go down the other side of the road in the usual two by two format (I guess it worked for Noah, except that darn unicorn!! ). Anyway having done the other side of the street they then came back on my side. I waited and waited and I waited some more. But not a knock or a ring, sod all! So feeling left out I went to see where they had got to. Well it turned out that they simply by passed me and went next door instead. Effectively I have been blacklisted by the Bloody Jehovah's Witnesses!

Hallelujah, there is a God!

The problem initiated with a visit to a National Trust property last year and concluded with the death of a food processor!

Our food processor broke down this week. It hadn't been very happy for several weeks and I knew something was afoot as it whinged and moaned more and more through the month, but I never thought that it would actually down tools!

The problem initiated with a visit to a National Trust property last year where shortly after Halloween I bought a super-sized pumpkin for just £1. This extortionate cost was funded by the sale of my own smaller pumpkins leading up to Halloween.

Well now, I kept the seeds from that pumpkins big belly, cleaned them, stored them and generally mollycoddled them for many months until it was time to sow them into little pots to germinate in my greenhouse. Eventually they were big enough to go out and do their thing in my allotment, which they did with some gusto I might add.

By late September the unbelievably prolonged warm summer had filled the pumpkin patch with all
sizes of bright orange balloons.

 I stood there looking at the answer to the meaning of life itself. There were 42 of them. The largest of which were 22lb and I had several of those. This was better than I had hoped for but there was a problem as I wished to sell these for Halloween which was still 30 days away and they would certainly not last in this warm weather.

It was a hard call but I opted to harvest the lot (except 2 green ones that were living on the pile of cow manure) and I once more called on the help of my little green truck to transport them home.
My truck is called Claire Rebecca. This is because it has a green livery just like the Eddie Stobart lorries and whose trucks all have female names painted on them. For years & years on holidays across Britain my daughter has been trying to see her name emblazoned on one of them. God knows what we would have had to do if she saw one heading north on the M6 but we'd probably ended up in some dodgy industrial estate in the backwaters of Crewe taking her photo next to it.
So to overcome this I have now named my mini Eddie Stobart truck 'Claire Rebecca' and that should put an end to her quest.

So I filled Claire Rebecca to the brim then returned a second time and filled her again until my crop was all safely in. I walked along the street with my imaginary peacock tail feathers high in full display mode with my little truck full in tow. Sadly the imaginary peacock feather display drooped somewhat as a massive tractor trundled past me with his trailer bubbling over with it's 4 tons of sugar beet. I felt a little inadequate.


Still when I got home I sorted them into two types, 'Really ripe' and 'Just ripe', placing the really ripe in to the coolness of my wood store / tool shed / pumpkin climate controlled storage facility.

 The just ripe ones were placed outside but under cover to keep them dry.


Now all I could do was wait....
















Two weeks later.......


Having kept an eye on them I decided that most of them were fit to sell and I placed them on my front yard wall, all priced up, to see what I could sell.

After a slow start word got around and cars pulled up and people started buying them and before long I had sold out of all the small ones then the medium size ones and so it kept going.

I kept a few for the children in the family that had booked the cottage leading up to Halloween for which they were very grateful. We even lent them the carving kit and gave them the candles etc.

Naturally being the big kid that I am I kept two for me to carve too.

I put aside any that started to show signs of going soft and made soup out of those. This was my main reason for growing the pumpkins as I love pumpkin soup. As well as the Pumpkin crop my Tomatoes were going berserk in production too and in the last week of October (just days from November) I had picked over 20lbs of the things. I cannot remember such a mild Autumn. I am writing this on the 2nd of November and I have Sweet Peas and Dahlias still prolifically flowering in the garden. I have just picked 6 ounces of autumn raspberries and we had tea in the back garden in short sleeves. Global warming gone mad!

So it is my assertion that as a result of a visit to a National Trust property a year ago and the volume of pumpkin soup thereby created which my poor food processor had to liquidise, that caused it to finally give up the go. I may sue the National Trust.


The irony is that my intention was to use the £54 that I raised selling the pumpkins to self fund next years allotment seeds etc but the new Food Processor cost £109 and so instead of getting £54 I've ended down by £55!                    How is that bloody fair?!!!




Still we have had a great October and here are some photographs to illustrate how summer like it has been.....

Turnips in flower in front of Melton Constable estate church

Brinton in a warm 20 degrees C

Cley Church, not a cloud in the sky.

25th October and families crabbing at Blakeney in their tee shirts.

Blakeney........     lovely. Who wouldn't want to live here?

My prize winning Sweet corn, well they would be if we had a village produce show!!

Our latest find, Holme Beach miles & miles of unspoilt beach and not a sun lounger in sight!

My favourite 'Arty' photo of October. (I might actually print this one).

Wells-Next-The-Sea Beach huts.

Again one of my 'prize' Onions.

"And finally" as Trevor McDoughnut used to say.......

We had a visitor earlier in the month. Alison was the first to notice something strange going on in the garden whilst we were cooking the guests breakfasts. It was a Sparrow Hawk who had snatched one of our regular Collard Doves and was devouring it right in front of us. It was a Sparrow Hawk that I saw snatch away one of the fairly rare Spotted Flycatchers that were breeding in our vine two years ago and it may well be another that my children saw catch and kill a Blackbird. I know one thing for sure.... in case it thinks my grey hair is a Pigeon, I'm wearing a hard hat when I'm in the back garden next.

Happy Halloween........

15,358