G-Mac

I don't know who to congratulate first; Rory McIlroy for his stunning performance in winning the 111th U.S. Open, or my friend Francis Cole-Davies on the birth of his first born. Both are significant events for each of them, their family, and their friend, but yet each event is also so different.

Mind you, the feelings of elation, and thoughts about what the future holds probably applies equally to both events that happened yesterday.

I shall get around to writing the next poem in due course, but this one was written this afternoon before I heard the news from my friend.

G-Mac

Who is this McIlroy,
A young son of Ulster,
Age only twenty two,
With a very long swing,
To enhance his golf game.

You know, the one that won,
The U.S. Open that time,
This Ulsterman Rory,
Whose putting did bring,
A top Major to name.

Yes, I know the one,
Scoring minus sixteen,
Over those four long days,
Again did Ireland win,
Golf shall not be the same.

From Holywood this Champion,
Youngest since twenty three,
Two six and eight, his run,
Ball flying like a wing,
Maryland Rory did tame.



Roger Bennett
June 2011

The poem consists of four stanzas set out as a quintet with three feet per line. As usual I exercise my right to be known as the author if anyone tries to use my poem.

Father’s Day 2011

I am extremely fortunate to have a caring family and this has been a great Father's Day. The pressies and cards that I opened this morning were complimented by the long phones calls from my chicks that live away. The weather has been lovely and I enjoyed the walk along the promenade in Aberystwyth, the model making outdoors, and the coffee break in Costa that gave me the opportunity to write another poem. This was all topped off by a three course stunning delight served up by Mrs. B

Father’s Day Menu 2011

To Start
Roasted garlic and goat’s cheese toasted on bloomer with chorizo and sweet lettuce salad

To Continue
Oven baked Salmon with butter, cream, dill, and spring onions sauce on sliced and Roasted New potatoes with peas, broccoli and oven baked carrots with olive oil

To Conclude
Homemade double layer strawberry cheesecake with strawberry coulis and fresh cream with strawberries dipped in chocolate

Well done everyone, and thank you for a great day.

A Shakespearean Sonnet

I have just written my first ever Shakespearean (English) Sonnet, consisting of 14 lines in 'iambic pentameter' (that's five feet where each foot has two syllables stressed and unstressed). With each of the first three stanzas being a quatrain of four lines. Finished off by a fourth and final stanza that is a couplet consisting of only two lines.

Unfortunately I am unable to replicate the sonnet at this moment in time on my Blog; as the sonnet was written by yours truly to celebrate our forthcoming anniversary.

I warned her that if she doesn't behave then I will go out and buy a card instead. Oh power, it's brilliant. And do you know the best bit? Well after parking my car in trouble free parking heaven in Aberystwyth yet again, I then sat in my favourite coffee shop and had the joy of using the Waterman fountain pen that the gang bought me when I retired. It was lovely as a cartridge pen, but like the Gold Sheaffer that the Executive Suite bought me, I sourced Piston Fillers from across The Pond and when they arrived, I popped them into the barrels. Pure bliss, great fun and for me quite uplifting.

Oh joy, oh joy for paper and ink and the time to think.

:-) Happy days

Alice Pyne

If you are ever feeling down, then go to: http://alicepyne.blogspot.com and read that Blog and be very grateful for everything you have and will ever have. The power of the Media and the Internet to bring information into your life that otherwise would have slipped you by. I cried when I read the article in the Times newspaper while sipping coffee in a coffee shop in Carmarthen, and I cried again when I used my Xperia X10 to access the Blog a few minutes later.

Joss Stone

I was appalled at the news story that broke yesterday regarding Joss Stone and the stuff that those who have been charged allegedly had in their car. This led me to write a poem about the Joss Stone story. It sickens me that people go and plot and plan the way that they do; with total disregard to their fellow human beings. Let's hope that those involved get what they fully deserve and that Joss Stone lives life safely.

Joss Stone

Rejoice to those who spotted the duo,
And for making the emergency call,
Praise the officers taking the lead,
And to those who searched the Punto.

Two now charged and unable to blag,
Why they were there at all,
Banged to rights they will plead,
The reasons why a sword and body-bag.

And when the jury find the guilt,
The two from Manchester shall fall,
Locked away so that others heed,
What happens if blood could be spilt.

Roger Bennett, June 2011

As always I reserve and execute my right to be identified as the author of this poem if anyone lifts it and uses it elsewhere. Oh, and some dosh please if you are a newspaper or other high volume reader organisation, as I'm just a poor pensioner. Tee he hee :-)

Parking in Aberystwyth

What's all this rubbish about Parking in Aberystwyth? I take my car into the centre of Aberystwyth every day, and I mean every day; even Saturdays and Sundays. For me the Parking Wardens going in Aberystwyth has not been a bad thing. Not because I haven't picked up any more tickets, but because I have been able to park my car legally and with ease every day since they have gone. Indeed, parking for me has become easier and not more difficult. Better still someone else said the same thing this afternoon about where he parks. And two others said similar yesterday. The press and the media coverage does not seem to reflect what is happening on the street. I'm not saying that it is bad reporting, but maybe it is poor informing. The media report what they are told.

So I have to ask; who is creating this story and for what reason? Is the real story about generating interest about the location, and thereby creating an improved tourism economy through product awareness?

Because parking is not a problem, far from it. The parking in Aberystwyth has never been any better, and the truth is that everyone is being sensible and Roger gets a legal space every day. Let's all hope that the story goes away and those in power don't waste public taxes on employing traffic wardens in the future. Instead put up a few automated enforcement cameras in the key locations such as the narrow part of High Street where illegal parking could prevent an Ambulance or Fire Engine getting through (High Street is a side street), and on Pier Street where the situation was no better with the traffic wardens as anyone with a blue disk - could and always did and still do - block the street and reduce it to a one vehicle width while the purpose built Disabled Car Park at the bottom of Aberystwyth usually remains half empty.

Better still folks, how much do you pay to park in the centre of your town? I park in the centre of mine legally for several hours almost seven days a week on road and free of charge. Work that one out and then tell me there's a problem, as many who read this would love to be in that position in their town centre.

Free parking - legally parked - space every time I look - space every day - space at peak afternoon times and Saturday morning times - no cost - no hassle - space found very quickly - a different space every time. Can someone please tell me where the Parking Problem is in Aberystwyth because I haven't found it yet!

Seeing others do it right

Most of us like to think of ourselves as being good at something. But all too often someone comes along who is far better.

I particularly like making models out of waste material, you know scenery and the like. These can be used for wargaming, scalextric and model trains. As good as I am, I always seem to put off completing the big project. Maybe it's the stress of making such a huge commitment, or maybe it's the uncertainty about how it will all finish up. I've started two, but they're now just abandoned projects. Starting out with certainty, purpose, and energy. But quickly becoming anxiety and depressing and in dire need to be cast off to think of doing something else.

When it comes to building a model railway, I know that it is an awful lot of hard work, and an extremely time consuming process (says the man that has never completed a layout). So it really got to me with this months 'Model Rail' magazine (June 2011 Edition £3.55) to see two layouts built to an astonishingly high standard in two months and seven months respectively. One in 'n' gauge with its realistic setting and superb viaduct, and the other in '00' scale that looks like the real thing. Indeed, at first glance I thought the photo on the front cover was the life version, and only when reading the article inside did it dawn on me that it was not.

Slow slow Blogger

Sorry folks, but I haven't felt well of late so the Blogging is a bit erratic

London Olympics 2012

The Olympic ticket selling methods for London2012 don't seem to have done anyone many favours. We put in some healthy bids for the family but didn't realise that we should have bid as five separate people using our various bank accounts and not one family member trying for us all. We got two tickets, but then again many people got none. When I mention 'many' I should of course written 'several hundred thousand'. My disappointment, meant that I had to write some poetry.

So here is a Roger Bennett Poem regarding London 2012

Olympics

My Olympic money was here,
But now it’s gone,
For what and when I don’t know,
But for others there is none.

Oh London 2012,
You confused me with your ruse,
Not to sell the tickets,
Even to your muse.

I thought it was a celebration,
Chance to see the best,
Let’s hope there’s no black market,
But bidding like the rest.

Track, field or equestrian,
The system doesn’t say
My mind was blank,
But yet you made me pay.

How I longed to be there for you,
At this feast of sport,
But now watching television,
I shan’t be your cohort.

Roger Bennett, 01 June 2011

As usual I exercise my right to be identified as the author of this piece under the Design and Patents Act etc., but providing you add my name and the date, plus the webpage address, then you are welcome to spread the poem.

It could be worse the Olympics could have been in another Continent. Oh, it doesn't matter as I'm not able to go anyway even though it's where I live. What a let down. One chance for many people and we don't get it right. Oh, deary me.

Stephen Lawrence

It's wonderful news to hear that two men are to face trial for the 1993 murder of Black Teenager Stephen Lawrence. The death of Stephen Lawrence without a criminal case being brought by the State; has always been a blight on the justice system of the United Kingdom. It may be 18 years after the event, but the young man who was stabbed to death allegedly, simply because he was black, deserves the Justice of a trial for the accused.

I suspect that the trial will be a fair and equitable affair.

Everyone will have equal chance to convince those that sit in judgement that certain things did or did not happen and that certain people were either there or not. I suspect that all in all, the fairness of the process can be regarded as something that was not afforded to Stephen Lawrence when he was chosen to be killed. On that occasion it was the worse kind of cowardice, a gang of men. It is a pity that only two of them are being brought to trial and that the whole lot of them haven't been rounded up. Nevertheless, it is a significant step forward and everyone who has been involved in bringing the prosecution, should be justifiably proud.

No pre-judgement, no unfair trial, just a trial of the facts by a jury of your peers and if you did it then you done it, and it's as simple as that. And if you didn't do it, then you have nothing to worry about as an advocate will plead your innocence on your behalf and thereby convince those that sit in judgement to let you free.

Stephen Lawrence
Born 13 September 1974
Age when murdered 18
Status A Level Student
Date of Murder 22 April 1993
Method of MurderStabbed
Location of Murder Bus stop in Eltham, South East London

The following quote is cited as being attributed to the mother or Stephen Lawrence "...had he been given the chance to survive maybe he would have been the one to bridge the gap between black and white because he didn't distinguish between black or white. He saw people as people." Chapter 4, Stephen Lawrence Enquiry 4.7 Doreen Lawrence ended her statement with these words:-

Compilation

The Poetry is going well, the Swimming is going well, and a few other things are going well. So I'm sat tight waiting for the bubble to burst. Well its burst already, but when things go wrong they tend to keep on going that way. We been contacted regarding that thing that I'm not writing about, a strange sort of contact as three letters that the allege that they sent never arrived. But this one did, so very strange indeed. Hey ho, just more problems to deal with. Then there's the coincidence. Nothing to do with the thing that I don't write about, but a lot to do with something else from last year. Very strange indeed, and as a fatalist, I simply don't believe in coincidence. Everything happens for a purpose, so there's a few loose ends that need to be tied up so I know what is going on with this one.

Meanwhile, I am chugging along with the poetry. I am trying to construct one in recognition of a Double George Medal winner who also won an MBE for Gallantry. A brave chap indeed, so my effort has to match the magnitude of the task in hand.

As for 'Zulu Rising' a fantastic retelling of an important part of British history. The farming warrior class of the Zulu nation was no match for the industrialisation of the British. Now don't get me wrong, the Zulu's out fought, out 'generalled' and out everything else compared to the British. But spears and hide shields are no match for a Gatlin Gun, Canon, and an endless supply of troops with the best weapons. The logistics and stealth was extremely impressive as well. We can recall the Zulu victory at Isandlwana as a matter of vast numbers against a badly weakened force who's perimeter was stretched, but come on folks, 25,000 warriors without being detected moved that close to the British camp. And anyway, the General didn't have to half his force and leave unclear orders. Nope, if he was so intent on chasing around the country killing the natives for no good reason at all, then there would have been better structure to the situation. Then again, the British wouldn't have been there in the first place.

Now that's a bit like the thing that I don't write about. A little bit of forethought and consideration by the other side, and we wouldn't be where we are today. If I win, I shall of course write and awful lot about everything, and remember, it ain't libel or slander if you did it!

Meanwhile, verse 7 has to be compiled. Then when its all done, I have to read it out to a few people, and if they like the finished product, then it will be posted on the Blog.

The WInd

One of my daughters believes that poetry is an expression of creativity. The following attempt at creating a poem; consists of six verses each of four lines. The first and third line of each verse consists of only two words, whereas the second and fourth line of each verse consists of three words.

The sixth verse is made up of one line from the first, third, and fifth verses and finished with a finale.

The lines from the first, third, and fifth verse are the first relevant line i.e. the first ‘two word’ or the first ‘three word’ line as appropriate from each of the selected verses running in sequence.

I thought of the concept for the poem ‘The Wind’ on a fine evening walking along the prom with no wind present. The poem took approximately ten to fifteen minutes to write, and had two word changes after the first draft, and an ‘s’ added to two other words. The hardest part of the poem was constructing the fourth verse. I knew that something was needed in that part in order to move the then fourth verse to become the fifth and thereby fit the end verse grabbing of elements from the first, third and fifth verses.

I’m not sure if the beer helped, but I wrote four poems that evening, of which this the second of the four. One of my daughters refers to it as ‘haunting’ and asked me if “...they are really coming to you on the spot?” Well, the honest answer to that is ‘yes’. The second of my efforts on the 11 May 2011 is the most superior (if that’s the correct terminology to use) of the four. Although I do like my first attempt that evening as well. Maybe I shall Blog that one on another occasion along with ‘The Girl with the Blue Dragon Eyes’ that was written back in April. Another of my poems appears in the Blog near to Valentine’s Day 2011.

When reciting ‘The Wind’ my intention would be to speak smoothly and slowly. If standing, then with an upright poise but with the head slightly bent forward and downwards as if to imitate the struggle. I would say the first line of verse one, and then pause for effect, before continuing with the poem. There would be a ‘knowing nod’ during the third and fourth lines of verse one. For verse two I would look at the audience for the first two lines to engage them into agreeing with what is being said, before looking downwards for the third and fourth lines of the second verse. I would look up again at the audience from the third line of the third verse. ‘Death’ is the order of the day, and the audience need to be fully engaged for this point. The intention and the need for ‘rest’ in the fourth verse would mean looking upwards while reciting the whole of the fourth verse. The fourth verse is also about securing help to maintain the effort, the upward look being somehow a cry for help and intervention.

The struggle of the fifth verse would be relayed by the forward downward positioning of the head. I would maintain the same positioning for the last verse, other than the second line where I would look at and engage with the audience. I would read the first line of the last verse exactly, like reading the first line of the first verse as explained earlier. But then again what do I know? I have probably overplayed the card, and your anticipation of the poem could hurry on a period of deflation when you have read it, and then wonder what all the fuss was about. Oh, just in case this or any other poem that I have written are any good, then please note that;

“The right of Roger Bennett to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988...”

The Wind

It bit,
Its grip tightening,
The howl,
Was extremely frightening

Not cool,
But very cold,
My skin,
Felt extremely old

Its harshness,
Took my breath,
This wind,
Could cause death

To sleep,
Would be wonderful,
To dream,
Could be colourful

I moved,
Two steps forwards,
One back,
But still onwards

It bit,
Took my breath,
I moved,
And avoided death


Roger Bennett
May 2011

The Apprentice

There’s one thing that you have to say about each and every one of those that commit to BBC and Lord Sugar show ‘The Apprentice’ (BBC weekdays); they all have belief in themselves. I mean who in their right would during a time of recession give up paid employment to take a chance? It may be the ‘pessimistic me’ but if Lord Sugar called me up and asked me to give up work and appear in the Final of the Apprentice with only one other opponent, then my extremely smart answer would have to be a resounding ‘no’.

It’s not because I retired young and don’t have to work, it’s all about the fact that the other person will win. 'Yes' I do want a job, and I mean forget that I understand planning, strategy, entrepreneurism and the like. It’s just a case that everyone including Lord Sugar will like the other finalist and find a way to let me know that I didn’t get the job. Not because I am unlikeable, it's just how these things go. Now if I am bright enough to recognise that two people isn’t a 50-50 chance, then what are the odds when there are eleven others and a huge number of tasks and board meetings to get through. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you have to shine while nearly everyone else throws a knife or tries to hoist you up onto a meat hook. Well I'm used to that part, in fact I am a seasoned campaigner at dodging knifes thrown by those who ain't that good.

Now I’m also pretty good at identify the patsy at the start of each series. That is the first person to go, every time a new group assembles. Once I picked the correct person simply from the pictures in the 'Radio Times'. Well ‘pretty good’ probably underplays my knack. You see, it’s 100% since the programme began.

Now that looks good on paper, but if we contextualise the statement, then maybe we recognise that when the programme airs, I don’t even know if the ‘boys’ or the ‘girls’ win the first task. I pick the loser within minutes of the programme starting. But during the opening moments of this series, I wavered. I chose two people, no not a boy and a girl, but the eventual victim and his ‘orange’ partner. "Is it an Orange?" response, "Mmmm, I’m not sure". You will have to excuse the paraphrasing, as that’s sort of what I thought that they said when they were together. The most important thing is that those of you who watched the opening episode, will know the two chaps that I mean. Mind you, I selected these two, long before their trip to the market.

My money is on the inventor or the oriental lass. She seems very switched on, he also. He comes across as a bit of an oxymoron in many ways, an inventor who talks sense. ‘Soup Man’ must also be a favourite along with someone who I think is called Gavin. Those of you who follow the Blog know that I am a Briggs Meyer ENTP and not particularly good with names. That’s why I like ‘Sir Alan’, and ‘Lord Sugar’, they are easy to remember and sort of roll off the tongue. I clearly remember ‘Amstrad’ as it stands for ‘Alan Michael Sugar Trading’, and that is something that I can remember and associate with the name.

But for the world of me I simply cannot recall the name of the first episode loser from last night. I know that he used to be an accountant, and I know that he sort of maintained my 100% record, Fred, Frank and Fickle come to mind, but I’m confident that it’s none of those. I also know that he is short as I think that he told us so during the programme, but I am not sure if everyone else heard that passing comment. Now then Lord Sugar, give us a call, I ‘Double Dog Dare You’. And anyone from South Wales knows that you got to do a double dog dare. Can you imagine it; Lord Sugar, the lady on the left, the chap on the right (both of whom come across as being lovely by the way) and me! The problem being of course, after watching every episode and every series, I still don’t know their names. Now ‘Margaret’ that rings a bell, but I don’t think the football club owner is called Margaret, and I don’t think that she bakes either. Tee he hee, me sat in the anti-room; “Lord Sugar will see you now”, “I said, (pausing for emphasis and increasing the volume) Lord Sugar will SEE YOU NOW”. Yeah, as if.

Two Blogs

I'm working on two Blogs at the moment. This one on line, and the Second in WORD. I have mentioned previously the importance of oral history being placed in written form so that our descendants know a bit more about us and what we were up to and why.

The same position applies to the Internet. What we write on an electronic Blog is as vulnerable as oral history. The demise of a provider or its server and what was written is lost. It's continuity is no different than oral history in that the stories rely upon the memory of others and their desire or willingness to communicate those stories. I have therefore copied and pasted the whole of this Blog from 2008 until April 2011 into a WORD document.

The 300 pages have been given a title page, and an introduction. I have begun the next phase whereby I try and explain why I wrote what I did. This is being achieved by writing a link between entries or to explain a group of entries. The links are in a different font than the original Blog so it is clear what has been added. The original photographs have also been embedded into WORD. All in all it's an attempt to contextualise the writing and help our descendants to understand what it was all about.

The finished work is being bound in a leather dissertation binder. The idea being that it sits alongside my ongoing Family History work when that is complete. Two books that will inform others about us.

Roll of Honour

Is the compilation of a Roll of Honour in the Public Domain with ready access getting any closer? The Secretary to the President of Ghana has copied me in on a letter to the Hon. Minister, Ministry of Defence, Accra asking the Minister to action providing details or access to a Roll of Honour for those Ghanaians that have perished during United Nations Peacekeeping activities.

I shall update the Blog with names and dates as soon as they become available. Meanwhile, a big thank you to the secretary to the President for giving the matter serious consideration and tasking others to assist in what I consider to be an essential element of the civilizing process from Colonialism to Statehood.

Japan

Greetings to the surfer from Shinjuku in Japan that recently visited the Blog. I hope that you and your countrymen are slowly overcoming the dreadful natural disaster that affected your country.

Season 7

I know that I am supposed to be writing about Isandlwana and its aftermath, but I have been a tad busy of late with that thing that doesn’t get mentioned here. Don’t worry, there’s no Super-Injunction in place on me, and I’m not a rich personality, although my personality may sometimes be a bit rich. No, it’s more of a case that while things could be resolved I see no reason to dig a ditch. Dialogue and negotiation reduces tensions and deescalates the rhetoric from both sides. Talking is good and can solve many problems. I suppose that sometimes it also causes a few problems as well. People have to be talking from the same storyboard, and repetition has to be accurate. The African tradition of oral history relies upon the accurately recalling of the stories and trying to ensure that events are not lost in time.

We were chatting about family history last night, and some of the things that we told one of our daughters she had never heard. Some of course, for various reasons, simply cannot be published, but quite a few of the stories brought about a few laughs. So maybe it’s (life) not that bad after all. I thought that this would be a good time to post a trio of family stories and try to link them in some way to create a bit of interest. So here goes, I was thinking along the lines of a few common denominators; wheels, reduced numbers, and my bro.

Four wheels

The 2011 grass cutting is Season 7 for my petrol driven lawnmower. It’s a lovely thing that I found in the skip when I was visiting my brothers quite a few years back. I asked if I could have the lawnmower and although the answer was ‘yes’, there was at the time two significant downsides. (1) It wasn’t working, and (2) my lovely new Volvo with its light coloured leather upholstery was stuffed full of Daughters University stuff from England being brought back home to Wales by yours truly. So we tipped out any residue oil and petrol, covered the backseat leather with blankets and somehow managed to manoeuvre the lawnmower into the S40. About a week later and only £20 lighter, the missing 4th wheel was welded back onto the axle, and a new fan belt meant that the lawnmower worked. Here we are in Season 7 and as the lawnmower fires up first time at the start of each Season, I am extremely grateful to my bro. It’s not that I couldn’t afford to go out and buy my own, no it’s not that at all. The gratitude is all about salvaging someone else’s junk, and making good use of it for many years to come. Indeed, there’s a fair chance that the lawnmower may get a spray job this winter ready for next Season. Maybe red with sharks teeth or some WWII air art.

Three wheels

The second of my trio of family blasts from the past is about my father driving a road roller. These lumbering beasts of a machine have a solid turning rolling wheel at the front and two large fixed wheels either side of the main body towards the rear. Three wheels and no rubber, the driver sits high up in an almost open cab and if they are lucky have a sprung seat. Yes folks we are talking ‘big’ road rollers here, and not the diminutive ones often seen these days. Now don’t ask me what my brother was doing in the cab with dad, it doesn’t make any sense as the cabs only have a single seat. But nevertheless bro was with dad in Swansea trundling down a very long hill. Except that the trundling became a sort of freefall as the brakes on the road roller failed. Now I’m reasonably intelligent and understand physics and the like, but what I cannot explain, is what possessed my father and brother to determine in an instant that bro should jump? It doesn’t make any sense at all.

Massive road roller with massive front wheel is sort of going to demolish anything that it hits. I suppose the only vehicle that would create a similar impact would be a Centurion tank. Bro jumped and broke a bone or two and was lucky not to be crushed by one of the rear wheels. “And the road roller?” you ask, well come on folks do I really have to explain? Gravity ensured that it rolled onwards to the bottom of the hill, and its mass meant that it demolished a wall. For my part I am grateful that bro or dad did not come to an early demise.

Two wheels

Family stories should be about our oral history becoming embedded into written form so that future generations know a bit more about their ancestors. I giggle when I recall the lawnmower and road roller stories as they say a bit about fortune and misfortune and interpretation of events at that moment in time.

Who would have thought that the lawnmower in the skip would have been repaired so cheaply and go on to give excellent service for many years to come. And a bit like putting the thing in the skip, why on earth did bro jump?

I suppose on both accounts, decisions were made at each moment in time based on the information and assessment of that information by those that were in a position to make a decision.

We had a family member who died in a bike crash, and I remember as a young man, I wanted to have a motorbike. Well nothing strange there then, because girls and motorbikes were the order of the day. Given that I wasn’t able to get and keep the one, trying to get the other seemed at the time to be a good idea. When selecting a two wheeled story linked to my bro, I could of course have written about my butchers bike from my Saturday job, or bro standing the terms so that I could buy a Carlton 5 speed racing bike while I paid him back from my Saturday job, of which I am also extremely grateful.

But the thing is I found a guarantor for that motorbike purchase and I am extremely grateful that bro changed their mind and stopped the bike idea stone dead. Because if he hadn’t: then it might have been me travelling downhill without brakes and ending up in a skip.

Statistics

Since I began writing the Blog back in 2008, readers from a total of 39 countries have read the material. The Blog Reader leader board by Country is taken up by the United Kingdom, the United States of America, Ghana, Brazil, and Canada. Australia, Germany, the Netherlands, India, and Italy also appear in the top ten countries.

Visitors from 204 cities in these 39 countries have read the Blog.

The most number of visitors live in the cities of London (England), Birmingham (England), Cardiff (Wales), Accra (Ghana), and Chicago (USA). Readers from overseas are led by those from Accra and Chicago, but there is also a strong readership from Pelotas (Brazil).

Readers also come from all sub parts of the Continent of Africa i.e. Northern, Western, Southern, and Middle Africa. But for natural reasons the predominant readership of this Blog on the African continent is from Western Africa, and in particular, Ghana.

Having a Picnic

Ian Knight is a superb author and I urge you to pick up one or more of his books. With this particular read, I’m at that stage of the story where the British have invaded Zululand for no good reason other than their desire for expanded colonialism and the theft of land and resources in Africa. Picking a fight with the innocent is one thing, but the British invasion has already resulted in the murder of many Zulu’s while part of Chelmsford’s army is still camped under the shadow of Isandlwana. Lord Chelmsford has split his force and has gone on what appears to be his usual forage into the African wilderness. On this occasion he dines for breakfast while his soldiers are busy killing Africans. The reader is informed that the General’s French Cook is back at Isandlwana, and that the General and his staff were reduced to eating what they carried, and dining with the utensils and facilities that could be placed inside their sacks.

This all in all is not too bad a thing, as some of his soldiers did not have breakfast that day, and had not had supper or dinner the previous day. Indeed, those who were fortunate to have left Isandlwana on this particular foray into the wilderness had been reduced to biscuits and the sharing of a 1lb tin of salmon the previous day. Nevertheless, although hungry they would escape the butchery that occurred back at the camp. In contrast to the tea, biscuits and tinned salmon carried by the British, the Zulu army had marched on a few head of beef and a few slaughtered goats. We are told that this was not sufficient to feed the African Zulu army, and the cattle supplied by the Zulu King was supplemented with “raw meat, pumpkins, roasted mealies gourds full of curdled milk” carried by younger members of the family, (Ian Knight, 2010 p.266) and the livestock and the grain pits that the Zulu army was able to raid along the way. The modern reader can well imagine the logistical difficulties facing the Zulu nation in defending their land, culture, and well being against the British aggression. The English held the upper hand in logistical preparation, modern armaments, the creation of a monetary economy in which to buy wagons and to hire skilled drivers, money to lease solid structures in which to house soldiers, ammunition, and provisions. The British did not have crops to worry about or cattle to tend. Plus of course, the unnecessary and brutal invasion was on a date and time of their choosing. The invasion was deliberately timed to coincide with crop difficulties facing the Zulu nation. The existence of a Violence Monopoly fuelled Colonialism, which was a terrible thing, and I am certainly glad that it was not executed in my name.

I suspect that Lord Chelmsford was not dining on pumpkin, roasted mealies, or tinned salmon when he settled down on that grassy knoll to indulge in a spot of breakfast while the murderous affair continued to the fore. Indeed, although Chelmsford was focused to events to the front, he was not the only person now engaged in brutal activity, and although he did not fully comprehend the situation at that time, the butchery was actually going on all around him. Nevertheless, he saw no sound reason to break from his breakfast, and we can only speculate as to what delights he enjoyed on that particular African morning.

Sense of Duty

Yes of course I am thrilled with the listing in ‘Burkes Peerage and Gentry’. Especially as I often portray myself as ‘a lad from the gasworks’. I am without any doubt; a Crindau Boy through and through. But the truth of the matter, is that members of our family have often been referred to ‘as having a posh accent’, and one that does not correlate to our South Wales origins. I was born in Swansea and our arm of the ‘Bennett’ Clan moved to Newport Monmouthshire (Gwent) as the motorway and road network improved in the 1960’s. Not because the road improvements facilitated migration, but because my father worked driving a road roller. As the road windfall ceased, Sydney Bennett became a guard with British Railways. Again, geography and circumstance played its part, as BR had a depot in Newport Monmouthshire.

Migration for work in South Wales was not only a 20th Century thing. My research into our family history shows ‘shipsworths’ migrating from Swansea towards Newport Monmouthshire and Risca as part of the property construction boom. Although one unfortunate soul, at a very young age, found himself down the coal mines when that part of the family put down roots around Risca. There probably wasn’t enough carpentry work to go around, and the handing down of skills to a younger generation of family members was starting to cease. Education and the coin became the order of the day.

The provision of education is quite interesting. When you look at the early Census records, they show that our particular arm of the Bennett’s had sufficient money to provide education for a child rather than sending them out to seek work. To put that into context we are talking about the turn of the Century. So maybe an entry in ‘Burkes Peerage and Gentry’ is not that farfetched after all. The building industry was thriving and Granddad Bennett as a Master Mason and Head of the Clan had built up a significant size building firm.

Ernest Llewellyn Bennett enjoyed the trappings that his success brought. I know that in 1917 our family had a motor vehicle. Not many people had a car in those days, and the occupants of passing vehicles in South Wales would certainly have waved to one another. It maybe a family myth, but my father often mentioned that he had a pet monkey as a child. I also know that he displayed a sense of duty to ‘King and Country’ and as the storm clouds of war gathered, my father enlisted in the Army. Sydney Bennett was present in France during The Phoney War. That period from 1939 that had little action while a standoff existed on that front. Sydney was struck down with Scarlet Fever and after 18 months of illness and convalescence he was medically discharged from the Army. However his sense of duty was intense, and to serve his King and country, Sydney enrolled as a firefighter for the rest of the Second World War.

To be quite honest, Sydney Allen Douglas Bennett deserves a place in ‘Burke’s Peerage and Gentry’ far more than I do. But I am nevertheless extremely grateful, and I also know that he and others in our family would be very proud indeed.

Burke's Peerage and Gentry

If anyone reading this Blog is signed up to Burke's Peerage and Gentry, then I would love to see a copy of the full text assigned to my name, so that I can check it over and let them know if any of the details are wrong. You can contact me via rba@hotmail.co.uk

:-)

Happy Days

Today as also been a 'Happy Day', the unseasonal hot weather is a delight. I have managed to cut the grass, weed the paths, oil the garden furniture, do some DIY in the shade, and pop off into town to stroll the length of the promenade before reading a few more chapters of Zulu Rising. This time it was in Costa and not Cafe Nero, because of course I am now back in Aberystwyth.

It was also 'Happy Days' when I happened to stumble across my entry in Burke's Peerage and Gentry. If I could afford the fees, then I would sign up and check the accuracy of what is written under my name. Although the opening segment that appeared in a Google search seems pretty accurate to me:

ROGER BENNETT [Roger Bennett Esq, Mid and West Wales Fire and Rescue Service, Ceredigion County Command, Trefechan, Aberystwyth, Ceredigion SY23 1BE, Wales]; born Swansea; educated U of Centl Lancs; firefighter Gwent Fire Bde 1978–89, Community Fire Safety Offr ...

Happy Days indeed; sunshine, health, good coffee, a great book, and fame at last.

Zulu Rising

I have read over 200 pages of Ian Knights astonishing book. I have previously read Great Zulu Commanders, and Great Zulu Battles and truly believed that Ian Knight could not produce a combined book that would be as fresh as the first of my two reads; I was wrong. I am gripped by the storytelling, and have enjoyed a few pages each day in Cafe Nero on Duke Street, Cardiff after my physical toil on our flat. The staff are lovely and would be worthy winners of a Coffee Shop of the Year Award. It has been an enjoyable experience popping into 'Nero' each day, but of course, the hard work on the flat has meant that I have been unable to press home the reading.

Plus of course there has been a gap in the Blogging while I lived in Cardiff for the last 9 or so days. 'Happy Days' as one of the 'Nero' staff would say!

iSandlwana

The epic story of iSandlwana and Rorke's Drift is graphically described in the 2010 book 'Zulu Rising' by historian and author, Ian Knight. As proclaimed on the inside of the dust cover; "In the shadow of an imposing rocky outcrop called iSandlwana, a part-time army of African herdsmen brought to a halt (...) more than a century and a half of British Imperial expansion across southern Africa."

There was me writing about 'Boys Own' in a recent Blog Post, and on page 4 of what feels and looks like a 600 page book, Ian Knight, mentions that "uncomfortable truths are often buried uneasily beneath a veneer of Boy's Own derring-do." For me, it is also interesting to note the author referring to there being "enough contemporary parallels, in Iraq and elsewhere, to suggest that no one, least of all politicians, learns from history." These fine words are in many ways replicated through the various threads weaved through this Blog over the last few years.

Maybe the study of war and Imperial expansionism should be a pre-requisite of holding elected public office? I wonder as to how many scholars, who understand social and economic science, would push a country into conflict? Be it internal or external conflict; as the State can deploy its violence monopolies against its own people, or beyond its borders.

Quite a lot has been written and spoken about the link between Libya and the London School of Economics (LSE). I appreciate that in contemporary affairs (and for these purposes I include the Libyan Embassy murder and the Lockerbie murders, and the current situation), that the word 'Libya' has negative connotations. Without trying in any way to push the morality and wrongdoing aside, I am unable to fully sign up to 'the LSE were wrong because' argument.

I believe that the core idea behind the academic link was sound. Education increases understanding and greater understanding, must ultimately, lead towards greater tolerance. As the 'Civilizing Process' continues, it is inevitable that there will be less reliance on the use of 'Violence Monopolies' by heads of state and other power players. The reduction in the use of violence will occur for both in-house events, and for conflict between States. Education, especially that delivered by credible world class institutions, must assist that process. Therefore, even though there are sound reasons why the link should not have been established, the LSE should not beat itself up over the links that occurred.

Education may have offset the contemporary problem. We know in hindsight that it didn't, but no one knew of this outcome, when the relationship began.

Although State-formation is central to the Civilizing Process, there can be no doubt that the process is also wholly dependent on people and their actions towards and their interaction with others. Strategic and other direction may occur during war. These directions may determine the various tasks and acts that are required in order to execute the warring intention. There may also be an understanding, or a co-hesion of force, that brings large numbers of people together for a particular event or series of events. But the actual execution of the violence is down to the behaviours and interaction of individuals or small groups of people. These people may be part of a 'strategic whole', but they nevertheless operate in isolation.

Real people operating in what can best be described as surreal circumstances. African herdsmen against the might of the British Empire and its Colonial intent. Part-time warrior against semi-professional soldiers. They fight and some of them will undoubtedly die. A bit like the contemporary problem in Libya today. If you fire on your people then people get killed, if you take out a command and control centre then more people get killed. Anyone and everyone is at risk, there is no clean kill; simply death.

This aspect of war is eloquently portrayed in the opening pages of 'Zulu Rising'. The author brings us closer to the death of a warrior, and then links the battlefield with the acts undertaken by modern descendants who are coming to terms with the loss and the impact of that loss on their contemporary problems. It's strong stuff, and in a future Blog Post I shall try and relay the 'Spirit Catching' of a fallen warrior at iSandlwana, as witnessed by Ian Knight back in January 2007 and described in his 2010 book. Maybe, just maybe, I can link that description to my own experience of 'African spirits' as described in one of my older Blog posts.

Little Fishy's

I had intended to write about 'Zulu Rising' and have a few notes that I put together for that purpose this morning. However, my travels continue and this afternoon we stepped out towards Aberaeron and Lampeter. It was a lovely trip and some March Welsh culture with Cawl, Bread, and Cheese at one of my favourite old time haunts; Mark Lanes Cafe in the high street fifty or so yards from the fountain.

It was very nice of the chap that built the fountain for the folk in Lambedr Pont Steffan (Lampeter). I suppose that providing water for drinking and bathing is an important social contribution. Although it was also a tad pompous of him to emblazon his name for all and sundry to see on the side of the disproportionate stonework. Sometimes people just don't know when 'enough is enough'.

I think that applies to all of those that kept arriving at the swimming pool this morning. As well as the ticket collecting that could have stopped the stampede. I managed 41 lengths, but my 'o my it was a terrible struggle with this person or that moving across my lane, towards me, and sometimes underneath. They were all like little fishy's, and for once I came close to understanding how everyone feels like when stuck in an aquarium. It was mad, simply mad. Can you imagine it being like that every day?

Travel new and past

I have put in quite a few miles over the last few weeks. Which is simply astonishing given the 70,400 words that I have written. No, I don't type and drive. Mind you, if it was safe to do so, then that would be the perfect solution. Mainly because driving is mundane, and I'm not a mundane sort of person.

I have also managed to read two exceptionally good books. The latter one being "the Real Heroes of Telemark". An astonishingly good read, and one which I recommended to you before I reached the closing chapters. I knew parts of the story but I was unaware of "the Ferry of Death". War is about death, but fortunately not all conflict is war. There is conflict in relationships, conflict in employment, and conflict through religious or political differences. Sometimes something happens that transcends the differences, something that jells the actors and onlookers to work towards the common good. The true stories behind my recent reading are remarkable. Real 'Boys Own' sorts of stuff. A modern day hero, a soldier who fought 'for King and Country' and then went on to become active in clandestine activities which in many ways were also for the greater good. Hardship was portrayed in 'Rifleman', but probably not as much hardship as that which was endured in 'Hardanger' during that terrible winter. Both stories show how far man will got to hurt others, and how far man will go to try to right a wrong.

My next read, sweeps away from 'Boys Own'; to Imperialism and Colonialism. The story of British Colonial Intentions in Black Africa. Readers of the Blog will know how the British were outwitted by the superior leadership skills of the Zulu nation. The highly drilled British Soldiers had embarked on what must have also been an adventure similar to 'Rifleman' and 'Telemark'. Facing an enemy and not knowing if you will win through.

I mentioned in a recent Blog Post about the process of state formation. In the previous paragraph I mentioned the 'Zulu Nation', unfortunately their state formation process was not far enough advanced. In-fighting and agricultural demands led to weaknesses. Colonial Britain got lucky and Africa bore the burden of that success. Maybe over the next few Blog Posts I can mention some of my favourite bits from one of my favourite stories. Ian Knight is a great author, and this being the third book of his that I have read, there is bound to be some replication. But if I come across a few gems, then you can certainly be assured of some replication in this Blog. Until then, if you live in the UK, enjoy the early Summer. It may be all that we have. Although unlike Africa and the Zulu society many decades before; the clouds that gather for us, will only bring rain, and not death and oppression.

Reflection

For me, swimming is a reflective process. I always look back at the event and recall how enjoyable it all was, but I never look forward to getting up early and dragging myself to the Pool. This in some ways is a pity, as I do enjoy the swim.

I tend to average 150+ lengths a week, and a fair few Sauna's to boot. Popping into the Sauna is my way of adding some relaxation and further extending the workout period. The heat maintains the raised heartbeat from the exercise; well that's my theory anyway. Plus of course there's the Social Intercourse. Like many people, I enjoy a good chat, and popping to the Pool enables me to exchange a few words with some friends. Routine, motivation, dialogue, exercise, warmth, and reflection.

It's all very civilized. Elias mentioned that we are unable to understand the "civilizing of conduct" and the transformation of the structure of mental and emotional life without "tracing the process of state-formation" within the advancing centralization of society. Elias also mentioned that this "first found (...) visible expression in the absolutist form of rule." So our development links to those 'power chances' that were gifted to a central authority. Now we can trace this state formation back to the middle ages, and enforce our understanding of later events, by reviewing 15C records. But in many ways this 'central authority' mechanism operated throughout the 20C and is still visible today. This is evidence that the civilizing process is a continuum. What one person thinks is civilized is not, and what many believe to be civilized; is still subject to improvement as gradual changes are introduced. By inference, this latter model cannot be 'civilized' because if it were, then there could be no room for improvement. Better still, our understanding of the process is based on ‘reflection’ in that we have to look for evidence in order to determine if improvements or advances were made. I wonder what future historians will think of the current turmoil in Arab countries. Will they believe that UN intervention was correct? Will they regenerate the Crusader against Islam theory? Or will it all boil down to a mere side show. It is quite upsetting that conflict through choice, has displaced the Humanitarian disaster in Japan from the front pages. But this is all too often the case, a side show steps in and prevents us from executing our intention or necessary actions.

The problems always seem to happen through a craving for power. For these persons the money sector of the economy is all too often the driving influence, and this craving allows the actors to seize their ‘power chances’. Be it 'oil', 'Land', or other wealth; the names of the actors never matter. Yes they will be noted in history, but in real terms the names don't matter as the sequence seems to happen time and time again. Sometimes it all ends with a fight between ‘Good’ and ‘Evil’, conflict or force exercised by those that consider themselves to be ‘Civilized’ against those, who for no good reason, they consider to be ‘un-civilized’. I'm not saying that what we are doing in Libya is wrong, only that I truly believe that dialogue and negotiation is better than conflict. Mind you, that requires both parties to be listening, and all too often that is not the case. Then again, even when people appear to be listening and agreeing, we have to remember the farce that was the Munich Agreement.

I don't know much about what I have written, but I do know that in this 'civilized' (sic) era, it’s awfully civilized being able to pop along to the Swimming Pool most mornings.

Telemark

I like a good film, and I pretty well warm to anything Military. I also enjoy a good book, and after finishing 'Rifleman' I struck out on a new read that can be best described as an Alpine Ski run. 110 pages on day one, and 102 pages on the second day. Well, it was only natural that I lagged behind given my exertions on the first day.

My current read is about Telemark, in Norway. As I come towards the end of the book, it is clear that 1965 Kirk Douglas, Richard Harris film is not true to the original story. The Ray Mears; 'The Heroes of Telemark' book is an astonishing read. Right up there with the Chris Ryan, 'the One that Got Away'. When you eventually understand what Ryan achieved, you start to comprehend man's ability to overcome difficult and somewhat daunting circumstances.

In 1942 the Norwegians camped out high on the Hardanger Vidda. I don't know what 'Hardanger' means in Norwegian, but simply break the words into two English words and it sort of sums up the environment HARD ANGER. Like Ryan, they seem to have coped with the impossible. It may be Spring in the UK, but back in Norway in 1942 the country was enjoying its harshest Winter in living memory. And there, high up on the plateau were a bunch of heroes doing their best as pathfinders for those that followed them into the inhospitable environment in order to destroy the supply of 'Heavy Water' held by the Germans. It is a tale of endurance, sacrifice and butchery. It is quite upsetting to read about the failed attempt and what happened to the captured British Commandos. It is heartwarming to read of the later audacious and successful attack. Unfortunately like all good books, this one will also come to an end, and then I have to seek out a new read. That is likely to be "Zulu Rising", I like Ian Knight and the book is a present. But I also have to re-read "The Germans" by Norbert Elias along with a few other academic books as I zero in my sights and slip from reading for enjoyment towards reading for publication. As it is time again to start typing with a view to having some more work put out there.

I have a shed load of material, and now I have to decide which direction it is all going to take me. Yep, downhill skiing, my favourite sport, but thankfully not in Norway where it's a tad too cold for this Tommy.

The Heroes of Telemark, I doff my cap to one and all.

Spring and Clutch Head Slot Security

Today is the first day of Spring in the UK. It's got nothing to do with the date, nor the weather, or even the odd daffodil that has popped up. Apparently it has something to do with the Moon, but what exactly, I simply don't know. I do know that folklore regards the 21 March as the First Day of Spring, so maybe Mrs B has got her dates mixed up, when she assured old sleepy head that today was the day.

Well I certainly had a spring in my step upon hearing the news. Even on a dreary day like today. I managed to break into our shed. Not any old shed mind you, but the fortress that has stood in our garden for some nine years. Built by yours truly, from scratch, and not a window or weak point in sight. There are several advantages to not having a window; (i) you don't have to buy any glass, (ii) there's no need for putty, (iii) no need for tricky corner joints, and (iv) you can't simply tap the glass and break in. I had to break in you see, because the shed key came adrift from the key chain. I have scoured the garden and the tiny stones in the backyard for weeks now. But it was to no avail, the lost key could not be found and the spare keys had gone missing during the kitchen make-over.

I set aside several hours of this dreary First Day of Spring to complete the task. It took me 10 minutes including repairing the damage. Some fortress then, not a window in sight. A shed that was complete with a secure lock that had locking bolts and retainers, and are not simply screwed in. No, the locking mechanism on this hand crafted non shop bought shed, had devices that were bolted in place to stop Mr Thief unscrewing the fixings. This is not the first time in my life that I have secured something properly. I once used prison non reversible screws. The screw heads are chanfered in one direction so the flat screw driver will engage when turning clockwise (the direction of tightening) but slips when you try and turn the screwdriver anti-clockwise. These type of screws are also referred to as 'Jail Head' screws. You simply cannot apply torque in one direction but can use a normal screwdriver to insert a permanent installation. So I know my security stuff, and of course, I'm starting to learn my law stuff as well.

Ten minutes, that was all the time it took, to get in and out, and repair the damage. Even the community police officer who assessed our home a few months back missed that one. He was well impressed, like me, with the shed. But then again nothing is secure when someone is determined and opportunity exists. That also applies to arguments and positions and not only to physical structures. What we erect can be taken down, however good we think that the position or structure is. However good we think we are, there is always someone better, and there is usually someone who is at least worthy of the task.

Whether or not its the First Day of Spring didn't matter one little bit. Although there was an upside, I was able to make a coffee and then hide away in the garage tidying up several months worth of mess. It's messy in the garage because I am too busy fighting others to hold up high our family name and reputation, and fighting takes time, it takes energy, and it means that those tasks that you really need to do, simply get put to one side. I have to tidy up, just in case the Japanese Ambassador rings and takes me up on that offer. I mean, I can't have the place looking messy if we have a few guests over for a few months, can I?

Now where was that key? I know; it was inside the locked shed, lying in full view on the floor. Sods Law ain't it? And I know quite a bit about that. Indeed, I am learning quite a bit about quite a few Laws. Mind you, my all-time favourite is still 'Trial by Combat', make mine a Single Ball Mace complete with leather handle, any day.

Eating and Fighting

Well the last Blog Post weaved its way between eating and fighting. It tried to explain 'Trial by Combat' and mentioned the lovely food, surroundings and people at the astonishingly good 'Mumbai Lounge' in York.

I really don't know how to top that Blog Post, especially as I do like to try create some kind of link between Posts. I suppose that I will have to thrill you with the delights of our Second Christmas Day. I found out that one of my really good friends had not had a Christmas Dinner since 2003. Well that certainly threw the gauntlet down. I mean, Christmas Dinner; it's the highlight of the year, ain't it? So the two professional drinkers were invited over to yours truly. Good news for me and them of course, but not so good news for Mrs B. Mainly because it meant one thing and one thing only. Seriously hard work for Mrs B at the wrong time of the year. Now don't get me wrong, Mrs B was well up for it, but I still felt a tad guilty.

Mrs B went off on one of her hunting trips to the local supermarket and managed to catch herself a turkey! Wow, it's March, I was well impressed. But not half as impressed as I was when she rustled up home made mince pies with puff pastry. I mean, come on give me a break. This is Mrs B and not Nigella, and Mrs B doesn't do baking. It's not that she can't, it's simply that she doesn't. I was well impressed, nearly as impressive as the fine wine and cheeses from Ultracomida in Pier Street, Aberystwyth, that were bought to compliment the meal. I get the credit for that hunting trip, and you will get an awful lot of credit if you ever book a table for your lady and you to enjoy the fine evening dining at Ultracomida. A bit like a Christmas Dinner cooked by Mrs. B, a treat not to be missed.

So there we were post Christmas Dinner number 2, rolling around like a gaggle of stuffed turkeys, when out popped the presents. Now Mrs B and I thought that we had come up trumps buying our guests some nice treats for mid March. But what we didn't anticipate is that they would also buy me a gift.

Not any old gift mind you, but 'Rifleman - A Front Line Life' by Victor Gregg with Rick Stroud. Good effort, and a very good read. 100 pages in no time and the fight was in the dog. A truly remarkable tale of a life time of adventure. Not my usual 'heroics' book, but a book involving a hero nevertheless. I never knew that I was going to be happy (if that's the right word, but I hope that you know what I mean in the context of this Blog Post) one day that the Allies bombed Dresden. The bombing has always struck me as 'bad form' a bit like the incineration that went on in Japan before the two atomic bombs were dropped to show the Russians what the Allies had. But if we hadn't bombed Dresden, then Victor Gregg would have been shot by the Germans. You will have to read the book to find out the how and the why.

Meanwhile, Mrs. B Christmas Dinner. Twice a year, only very good friends can book. Astonishing food, astonishingly good service and great company.

Ultracomida, Aberystwyth is open most days and a few evenings a week. The communal tables may take a bit getting used to, but the food is lovely.

York

I had a good reason to go away for a few days and the upside of that as one of my daughters mentioned; was a well earned break from sitting in front of the laptop day after day. Now please don't get me wrong, I'm no nerd. No far from it, I'm a regular down to earth sort of guy. It's just that I have been extremely busy typing up stuff relevant to an ongoing problem faced by one of my family. The upside of that problem is that a good friend has recommended that I bang off 12,000 words for a certain must not be named academic journal. Well no problem says I "That's a breeze, I wrote 26,400 words last week". I don't know if that was bravado, or the affects of heat during my daily morning sauna. Nevertheless, the gauntlet has been thrown down, and those that know me will confirm, that I am one to pick up the gauntlet with gusto.

Indeed, I have mentioned in a previous Blog the inherent problems when attacked from behind. Bullies come in all shapes and sizes, and sometimes they are an organisation and not a single person. When we are under attack, 'we' (that's you and I in everyday occurrence and not my current adversaries) refer to our opponents as 'they' or 'them'. And sometimes, like the wind, we can't always pin 'them' down. Those that you know and love and like, let you down. Sometimes your opponent is not who or what it seems. Never mind being struck from behind, sometimes you can get smacked squarely on the nose and not know who done it. But when it comes to picking up the gauntlet and fighting a known foe, then I'm an advocate of "Trial by Combat" introduced into English Law by that 1066 chap; William the Conqueror. I believe that in our current troubles "God shall give victory to the party that is right". You see, our opponents are paid to represent their Client, but I represent someone because I believe in truth and that "Right is Might". And I'm well up for a fight when I can see my opponent and they ain't attacking me when I am half asleep in my bed, or sat at my desk with my back turned towards them. So with all of this in mind, the York trip was business, but was also a well earned rest.

Of course this is where I "throw the gauntlet down" and challenge each and any one of you to resist visiting the astonishing "Mumbai Lounge" Indian Restaurant that we found at 47 Fossgate, York, Yo1 9TF.

We knew that we were on to a good thing when we spotted the restaurant in the afternoon and commented to one another as to its spotless appearance. The evening venture did not disappoint as we were welcomed by staff in traditional dress. They even took our coats, now that its a sign of an upmarket establishment. I like the 5* Hilton in Cardiff and go there quite a bit. All of these chaps could have been trained by the Manager in Cardiff. It was 5* at its best! The lovely tables with excellent cutlery were equalled with high quality food and service. My condiments were the finest ever, and is the first time in my life that I have ever indulged with the Chili Pickles with gusto. My Chicken Jalfrezy type dish was a tad hot for me, but that did not deflect from the quality of the cooking. It reminded me a lot of the Nepalese Restaurants that I have eaten at, good ingredients, cooked well. Flavours, textures and structure. It was all there, from my plain Nan Bread to the steamed rice. My youngest daughter like myself is an advocate of plain steamed rice with a curry. Why on earth would you eat anything that could deflect you from the true taste that you are trying to experience. You are there for the curry and not the onions or mushrooms in the rice. The Chicken Tikka Masala was served in the pan and placed on top of a heat tray, whereas my dish was sizzling and in its wooden base. Astonishing food, and they must have liked us as we were offered a complimentary drink each, that I of course declined.

I'm not surprised that we were liked, as we are honest working class folk who would do anything to help another human being. I care, to be quite truthful, I probably care too much about too many things. But I also care for my food, and the Mumbai Lounge in York is probably the best Indian and Bangladeshi Cuisine that you will ever come across in the UK. But don't take my word for it, instead seek them out and if its a weekend then please have the common sense to book in advance.

01904 654 155
www.mubailoungeyork.co.uk

Please mention the chap from Wales accompanied by the beautiful dark head young girl when you book. They won't have a clue who you mean, but mention us anyway. Mr Lovely, Mrs Lovely and our children; Lovelier :-) Enjoy your food folks, and remember never be afraid to pick up the gauntlet as "Right is Might". Look at the Casey Heynes story, an example to us all to stand up against those who try to keep on bullying us.

Japan Earthquake, Tsunami, and Nuclear Emergency

The story in Japan simply gets worse and worse. The death toll rises, the nuclear emergency increases and freezing temperatures hamper both aid relief and the rescue attempts. I have made a small offer to the Japanese Embassy and to the JAPANFoundation that I would willingly house, feed, and entertain a Japanese family of three or four displaced persons for the next several months. I mean, you can't look on at what is happening and not be moved by the circumstances facing the Japanese nation.

So what if I don't got on holiday this year, so what if I have to find a few hundred pounds extra for a few months. Compared to what is happening at the moment in Japan, anything anyone can do, should be done.

I very much doubt that my small gesture will be accepted. Especially with so much going on and the logistics of finding sufficient host families in the UK. But I tell you now, if they decide to find hosts for some of the people, and I do get a phone call, then Pauline and I will be off in the car in a flash to any UK Airport to pick up our guests and show them that there is a Global Community.

Casey Heynes Australia

Now don't get me wrong, I do not condone violence. Indeed, I am a gentle man and have walked away from many of a fight. Indeed, I did not hit back when I was twice assaulted in the workplace with my back turned to the assailant. Once on a night shift while in bed waiting for a 999 call turnout, and once while I was sat at my desk and my assailant walked behind me before hitting me from behind. Nope, I am not a violent man. And I have to contextualise the statement before I hit on the main theme of this Blog post.

Victims of the World unite and follow Casey Heynes. Always a constant victim, he stands while his assailant punches him full force in the face. He doesn't react as his assailant makes two blows to the stomach. No, Casey Heynes is a gentle guy. He doesn't react and there is no one there to help him. Well actually there is. There's the person holding the Happy Slapping Camera Phone, and someone who you may think was around because all of a sudden he steps in between the bully and the victim. Nope, not to help Casey but to try and stop Casey hurting the bully. Eh, like what? Casey was never going to hurt the Bully tough guy. No, Casey simply picked the Bully up and Body Slammed him into the concrete. Now why didn't I think of that on those occasions that I was attacked? I know, because I wasn't looking. You see that's the things with Bullies, they only do what they think that they can get away with. Now that's some real Social Science for you, and if you are instead into Film and Theatre; then check out the numerous Casey Heynes videos on the Web.

By the way, the victim actually got suspended from School. I read somewhere on the Web that the only time Casey should have been given off School was to go and collect the Keys to the Town. There's a lot of people out there who need to answer for this one, and Casey Heynes isn't one of those people. Where were those who have a duty of care to a child in a school to prevent constant bullying occuring, where were the parents of the assailant, where were the parents of the camera holder, and where were the parents of the tough guy with the rucksack. Shame on all of you, and well done Casey Heynes. Oh, and well done to the young girl who tries to step in at the end. Well done to everyone who supports Casey Heynes and please continue to support him when he is allowed back into School.

Japan Tsunami

I am just overwhelmed by events unfolding with the Tsunami and Earthquakes striking Japan. I think that everyone who has capacity, has a moral duty to offer assistance to the Japanese people in their time of dire need.

I'm am so proud to be British and to see our Government offer assistance to Japan and today's dispatch from Manchester Airport of our International Search and Rescue Team (ISAR) with its highly trained members, search dogs, and medical support. It's not just a case of what the UK ISAR team can do, but is also about showing that we care enough to assemble a team and then send it where and when it is needed. It's a moral and social obligation of a society that believes in supporting and helping others who are in need.

When you retire each night over the coming months, please say a pray for those that need our help and remember whatever your faith; we are not on this World for what we do for ourselves, but are instead here for what we can do for others.

Language

I'm currently faced with a bit of a problem. I have a letter from the Presidencia in the Republica De Chile, but I am unable to read it, because quite rightly, it is not written in English or Welsh.

That's a typical problem with communication, both parties have to interact, understand the matter, and actually listen. I recently wrote to someone that it don't matter how much you shake the tree, if you ain't listening - then you ain't listening and that is that.

Sometimes those barriers that interfere with effective listening aren't always of our own making. Sometimes something is said in mother tongue; but you simply do not understand. That doesn't necessarily mean that either party is speaking or writing a different language. No, far from it. Instead all too often people use words or phrases that simply don't make any sense. It could be that the receptor suffers from Dyslexia and the words move or are jumbled up. Or the receptor is a tad deaf. Or maybe the intended receiver doesn't exactly understand the words that are used. The words and the context don't add up, or the vocabulary simply isn't there. There is no understanding however much you move your hands or increase the volume at which you are speaking, or point at a phrase or a particular word on a page, or underline or over score the same or other words or phrases with a marker pen.

Although sometimes it is simply a case of; if you ain't listening - then you ain't listening and that is that.

No where was I, yes, the letter from the President of Chile. I want to read it, I really do. I am listening honest, but what on earth does it say. Maybe it is giving me a richly deserved humanitarian award. Or maybe recognising my services to community, my services to safety, and my services to International Relations. Or is it a tax bill, which would be strange as I pay far too much tax in the UK. Indeed from April I will be a 40% tax payer on my pension. No, I'm confident that the President wants to invite me on an all expenses paid trip to his lovely country, or maybe not. I simply do not know, and that is also a good point in respect of many things. All too often we really don't know until someone impartial points out the evidence or their impartial opinion of the matter under consideration. We think that we are getting an all expenses paid trip, when in fact it is a tax bill.

Meanwhile, lets hope that I bump into someone in Costa that can read the letter addressed to Senor Roger Bennett (with the required squiggly bit over the small letter 'n'). I want to listen, I really do. And I hope many others out there learn how to improve their listening skills. As this Blogger intends to keep shaking the tree.

Break

My Blogging output has deteriorated of late. That has happened through no fault of my own. I am still as prolific as ever with my writing, I think that it's nearly 80,000 words in the last 28 days, notwithstanding two days in Cardiff to meet some extremely important people for a 5 hour meeting, and another two days, again in Cardiff to meet someone else that is becoming a bit more important in our lives.

No, the impulse to write is still there. Well it has to be really, as I now have three books on the go.

Meanwhile, a warm hello to friends in Pelotas and Sao Paulo. Thank you for hanging in there, and for visiting the Blog even though I am more absent than present. All I can say to the both of you, and the many Blog visitors from the UK at the moment, is a cheeky chappy who can write 80,000 words of sense in 24 days and consume to understand a shed load of material, should, with luck, be around to Blog for some time.

I wonder if I have written a million words, surely the answer is 'yes' with the two degrees, the published stuff, my former role, the Blog, and my current activities?

Gwela i chi pawb amser nesaf.

Japan

I found today's events in Japan to be terribly upsetting. My heartfelt condolences go out to the friends and family of everyone involved. God be with you.

Farmers

The fantastic Farmers Arms in Llanfihangel-Y-Creuddyn, Crosswood, near Aberystwyth was the venue of our Valentine Dinner this year. Bit of a paradigm really as I have tried to book a table at the Farmers time and time again, only to frequently find that they are fully booked or closed. I have been working so hard lately as explained in the previous post. I meandered downstairs on the 14th to be greeted with "Happy Valentines Day", which of course was really nice, but a bit of a blow because I thought the date was the 9th.

Now, I have at last sorted out the days of the week. That's what Retirement does for you. Everything becomes a blur and weekdays merge into weekends, and to be quite honest it doesn't really matter as I have been doing my own thing whereupon days don't really interest me. The focus occurred; because for the last three weeks I have been swimming every morning at 0730 and travelling to and from the pool on Monday to Friday. So I sort of started to understand again when it was Tuesday and so on.

So I knew what day of the week it was, but not the date. Well 'dim ots' as the Farmers took my last minute booking because the Chef had decided at the last minute to open for Valentine's Dinner.

Brilliant would be a gross understatement. We were met with Pink Champagne and a live guitarist. The boss went for fresh prawns with an astonishing dressing. I went for a cheese infused Italian delight. My fish main dish was cooked to perfection with yet another astonishing sauce. The steak was exactly as requested, medium rare. Mmmmm, there was only one choice for me on the dessert menu, Seville Tart. Presented with a heart shaped sauce and a lightness of texture that matched the quality of the oranges used. Oh, did I mention the heart shape bite sized mini rolls prior to our starters? Or the exceptional and various breads presented to the Boss with her prawns? No, ah well, there's only one thing for it. You had better hope that the Chef wants to cook again next year, and if he does, hope that he doesn't advertise early.

I was so impressed, I bought the two Chefs a drink

£25 a head, plus drinks. Bargain.

Telephone 01974 261 275

Enjoyment

I hope that you enjoyed my feeble attempt at poetry in the last post that I made. Almost equal to my feeble attempts at Blogging. Although that's not entirely my fault as things have been a tad hectic in my family life. I have been working extremely hard to support one of the family. It has been a long old slog, and maybe one day I can tell everyone about it all. Meanwhile I shall try and log on occasionally and bring some focus back to my writing

FALLEN by Roger Bennett, 14 February 2011

FALLEN

I fell,
When I first set eyes upon You.
I fell again,
When we were Married.

The fallen are loved,
The loved have Fallen,
A descent into happiness,
A fall worthy of Life.

All that is left,
Is for me to provide a Token,
A memory,
Of when I Fell.

Nadolig Llawen

Merry Christmas everyone. I'm having a great time with family and friends and it was great to bring in the 8' folding table to sit everyone down for dinner. But we mustn't forget those who are less fortunate than ourselves at this time of year. I always try and look after one family in the area, and I hope that others do the same, rather than over indulge in excess.

I have taped the Queen's speech and I am looking forward to the Christmas Edition of Dr Who, mainly because one of my favourite singers has a role in the 2010 broadcast. Dr Who that is, and not the Royal Family. Mind you, as a staunch Royalist I have no problems with a member of the Queen's family starring in a future Christmas Dr Who. Maybe a take on the Royal Wedding at Westminster and everything going OK until the Darleks arrive. No flying ones, just the scary everyday Darleks and a Black one in charge. Wooooooooooohooooooooooooooooo,

Salty Cardiff

Well I thought Cardiff in the snow was like another world. I have never experienced anything like it, either in Ceredigion or when I was a City lad back in my Newport, South Wales days. Hats off to the Cardiff City Council; although they may be working extremely hard, they can create an image of sitting it out and making it look as if they are doing nothing. Now that's not a personal opinion, but one that was replicated whenever I talked to people across the City, and from different walks of life.

The constant theme was no gritting for the poor pedestrians, and why don't we all get a car.

Everything is geared up for the car during the snow, and broken limbs or the elderly being locked in doors seems to be the norm. In many ways it sorts of smacks in the face of the Cardiff free bike ride scheme. As the Council tries to reduce car usage, pedestrians struggling along through the deep slush or sliding on the compacted ice, all wanted cars! Good job that this is not the closing moments of a football promotion campaign as it seems to this casual observer to be one significant own goal.

Call it severe, call it the big freeze, liken it to the worst in a century, but come on folks, some grit on one side of the major pedestrian routes leading into the city and especially where there are road crossings. While I'm on my snow sledge; did any one think out the sloping pavement idea adjacent to pedestrian crossings? Fine in the good weather, but when it's poor, it's poor. Slope and ice equals falls. Little wonder that I came across two push button crossing light boxes dangling from the posts and attached only by their wires. Slope, ice, about to fall equals grab box and pray. Oh, for a little grit where it matters.

The Tynllidiart Arms

I really like a good Christmas Dinner, and preferably with friends or family. We were looking for a night out and phoned around and chatted to some friends before we opted for the Tynllidiart Arms.

It is a lovely country pub with a roaring fire at this time of year. I went for a pint of the local brew and we settled down into two cosy seats for a chat and to study the menu. It was just about then when we asked if they could squeeze us into being able to have the three course Christmas menu. A few minutes later we received the brilliant news that it was game on. The restaurant upstairs is lovely, complete with good quality tables and chairs and even better quality food. The boss went for soup and I enjoyed the smooth lover pate, salad, and toast with apricot chutney. It was a superior start to a great meal. Our main Turkey choice complete with parsnips and stuffing and little piglets wrapped up, all arrived on huge plates. The three bowls of vegetables were a lovely delight with excellent sprouts, swede and carrots. To top it off the Cranberry Sauce arrived followed by Cauliflower Cheese! Wow, we were stuffed, but I still managed the superbly presented, superb tasting Christmas pudding. A huge well done the the Tynllidiart Arms in this time of recession. Quality fine dining at almost cafe prices.

The food was superb, the owner friendly, and at only £20 there was nothing wrong with the price. The Tynllidiart Arms in Wales is another strong recommendation to one and all.

The Tynllidiart Arms
Capel Bangor
Ceredigion
SY23 3LR

01970 880248

Choo choo

Building the Snow Steam Train in 2010

Snow

As the United Kingdom is gripped with yet another Big Freeze, the Weather Forecasters correctly forecasted that we would also experience the white stuff.

I have not seen this much snow on the coast for many a good year. Wow, there must have been 3.5 inches when we woke up this morning. And its been a great day! Travelling to town because the boss had an appointment that just could not wait, and then breakfast at the fantastic Butchers Cafe in Bow Street, a village just north of Aberystwyth.

If that wasn't enough, I also managed to pack in several hours of fun in the snow. On the pretext of cleaning the drive and the path, but the reality was that the moved snow enabled me to build a steam engine. Not any old Snow Steam Engine mind you, but one that worked! I planted a flower pot in the chimney and burnt some dead leaves and cardboard so there was smoke coming out. to top it off, we placed tea-lights inside glass jars and placed four of these on top of the Choo choo. Very nice indeed, especially with the twinkles on the tree. That's what Christmas is all about. Enjoying the scenery and mucking about with the kids. It was great fun and all of the problems have washed over today. Especially when the eldest handed me my second glass of mulled wine at 9pm.

Christmas Time

Wow, I am absolutely bowled over. My Blogger statistics on Google Analytics show that access to the Blog is up by almost 200% since I last checked. Normally in any given period there are visits from 3 or 4 countries, but on this occasion readers from the following ten countries (in no particular order) have popped along to have a peek. The United Kingdom, the United States of America, Ghana, Macedonia, Germany, Finland, Iraq, Poland, Canada, Brazil.

Now I can write a bit about most of those countries: I live in the United Kingdom, although when I drill down into the Google statistics I sometimes come across names of communities that I either did not know existed, or knew the name but could not place them on the map. As for the good old USA warm greetings once again to everyone across the Pond. I have always wanted to visit the States, but instead financed two of our daughters having a great week in New York. Lucky them, and maybe, just maybe, one of the Presidents will invite me over for a chin wag. Another President that I would like to sit down with and share a cuppa is the President of Ghana. Now there’s a lovely country, which is full of lovely people. Now Macedonia is a bit tricky, as to my eternal shame, like some of the communities in the UK, I am unable to picture Macedonia on the map. My job for the day is to locate Macedonia (not that it's lost) and to learn a little bit more about the country. Now everyone knows a bit about Germany, and we have stopped on three occasions at a lovely hotel in Germany. Once again, great people, great food, great scenery. But I have never been as far afield as Finland, although I was signed up to a Finnish modelling site once. No, I’m not a good looking Nordic sought of chap; this was a 1/35th and 1/72nd scale model site. Iraq is the same but without the modelling website. I can imagine that it would be quite cool (or is that hot) to pop along and see the country, but not in the current political climate, and certainly not without an armoured car that can withstand an IED. Now Poland brings back fond memories, very fond memories indeed. Not that I have ever visited Poland. No, it’s because my first two girlfriends were Polish and throughout my life there has always been a twinkle in my eye for any Polish lass. Canada is my prime must go and see location. I have no excuse now as we have friends living in Canada and another friend with a property for holiday letting. I suppose my ‘all star’ trip would be Canada and the snow, and a several day train journey with good food and scenery. And as for Brazil, well one of my lovely followers comes from that country, so there is no more to be said than it must be a lovely place.

Oh, there is just one thing to add: wherever you are, and whatever your first language; Nadolig Llawen i bawb – Merry Christmas to everyone.