Week 38.08

                            Tendring Topics…on Line

 

Who is Conning Whom?

 

            A few weeks ago in a somewhat one-sided conversation with a local taxi-driver I was assured that greenhouse gases, carbon footprints and all the rest of it had nothing whatsoever to do with any climatic change that might be taking place.  There have, he told me, always been cycles of hot and cold, wet and dry in the world and there always would be.  There was nothing that we could do about it. 

 

            There was no point whatsoever in, for instance, carefully sorting out our recyclable rubbish from the rest of it.  It wouldn't be recycled anyway. Nor was there any point in using long-life electricity bulbs, cycling or walking instead of using motor transport, or doing any other of the things we are constantly urged to do by 'save the planet' enthusiasts. Anyone who imagined otherwise was a victim of a world-wide confidence trick

 

            The conversation was one-sided because I was, unusually for me, rendered speechless.  I really hadn't imagined that, on this side of the Atlantic Ocean at any rate, there was anyone left who believed as he did.  I didn't argue because I don't believe that anyone is ever converted by an ill-tempered argument, and I'm afraid that that particular argument would have become ill-tempered!

 

            Yet, thinking about it afterwards, I realize that there must be quite a lot of people who share those views, even if they are not usually prepared to air them quite so readily.  Walk down any residential road in Clacton on 'dustbin day' and you'll see that there is no shortage of homes outside which are several black sacks full of refuse, but no sign of a full 'green box' or other container full of newspapers, tin cans and plastics for recycling.  There may be a few people who are too feeble or disabled to separate their refuse from recyclables but I am sure that they are only a very few.

 

            What a boost such people, whether they really believe as my taxi driver did or are just too indolent to bother, must have received from one of the news stories on tv and in the press week or so ago!    Salvageable waste, identified as having been put out for recycling by a householder in Walton-on-the-Naze in our own Tendring District, had been found dumped on waste-land in India of all places!  'Proof positive', they must have said, that the Council didn't bother to sort out the salvageable from the non-salvageable waste. They now found it cheaper to export it all to India (with all the extra carbon emissions that that must have involved!) than either to recycle it or dispose of it in an approved tip in the UK.

 

            Of course, it didn't happen like that at all.  Tendring Council doesn't directly either collect or dispose of either household refuse or recyclables.  They employ  private contractors to do the collecting. Disposal is a responsibility of the County Council who again pass on the recyclables to private contractors to deal with.  I feel sure that those items turned up in India through some bizarre mischance.  It surely can't be cheaper to transport either rubbish or recyclables half way round the world before dumping them!

 

            None of which exempts either the district or, in particular, the county council from all responsibility.  It is up to public authorities to make sure that materials handed over to private contractors are dealt with lawfully and properly.

 

            When a particular public service is put out to competitive tender, the public authority invariably chooses the lowest tender.  Their auditors would expect a very good reason for their doing otherwise.  I hope though that they always remember that the contractor submitting the lowest tender is the one with the biggest incentive to skimp the work to save money.  Those of us who are conscientious enough to separate out our recyclables painstakingly every week, deserve to have the results of our efforts equally painstakingly supervised to their conclusion.

………………………………….

 

No Prosecutions?

 

            I was astonished when I read in the local press a few weeks ago that during the preceding twelve months Tendring Council there had been no prosecutions of fly-tippers by Tendring Council.  Surely it had been less than a month earlier that we had heard the unlikely news that our MP had been accused of fly tipping and had been offered the choice between accepting a fixed penalty fine or being prosecuted.  Could it possibly be that he had been right after all, and that he had been victimised for political reasons?

 

            It seems not.   Alresford Parish Council had been as astonished as I had at the news that, as far as fly-tipping was concerned, there had been a prosecution-free year.

Their astonishment was compounded by the fact that one of their members, Councillor Mrs Linda Belgrave and two other people, one of whom was a police officer, had witnessed the dumping of two shopping trolleys.  Their report, backed by photographs, had been sent to the Council but they had been informed that no further action was to be taken and that the person concerned would not be prosecuted.

 

            A statement made by a spokesman for the council gave a not-altogether-convincing explanation.   He claimed that it was not true that the Council was doing nothing about fly tipping.  Over the past two years there had, in fact, been about twelve prosecutions but it was not possible to distinguish which were for leaving litter and which for fly-tipping.  Furthermore, fixed penalty notices had been served on people accused.  Many of those receiving them either persuaded the Council that they had no case to answer (as our MP had done) or admitted their guilt by paying the fixed penalty.  In either event there would have been no prosecution.

 

            Considering the amount of litter and fly-tipped rubbish that is observable in only a brief drive or cycle ride through any part of our district, twelve prosecutions in two years (one every two months!) seems a very small number; even if there were a considerable number of offenders who, more-or-less-legally, succeeded in getting 'off the hook'.

 

            Is the 'fixed penalty' high enough I wonder?   Unless it is appreciably higher than the legal cost of getting rid of the unwanted material the unscrupulous offender, bearing in mind that he is very unlikely to be caught anyway, would be likely to consider the very occasional 'fixed penalty' as a justifiable business expense.

 

 

'Our' Wind-Farm is on its Way!

 

            It must have been at least ten years ago that we Clactonians were first told that we were to have an off-shore Wind-Farm?  There were, as might have been expected, dire warnings from objectors about its visual and aural impact and its effect on wild life and shipping.  Those of us though who, even then, appreciated the urgency of finding an infinitely renewable source of energy that would free us from dependence on the world's diminishing (and polluting) coal and oil resources, were delighted.

 

            In Tendring Topics (in print) I amused myself by looking forward to the day, fifty or sixty years ahead, when ancient Clactonians would relate to their grandchildren how they remembered the days before Clacton had a wind-farm.  Then, they would tell them, there had been no four-times-daily sight-seeing trips 'round the turbines'. Nor had there been any of the already-becoming-traditional weather lore:  'When wind-farm's showing clear and bright, 'twill rain again afore 'tis night!' and so on. 

 

Installers were to be a subsidiary of an enormous Trans-Atlantic Consortium.  There was an impressive exhibition at the West Cliff Theatre.  Construction would begin any day soon.  It didn't. The giant consortium ran into serious financial difficulties.  We were at first assured that these didn't affect our subsidiary, but perhaps they did.  Hope was deferred, and deferred again….and then again.

 

            At about that my wife became increasingly disabled and I was progressively less and less interested in anything that was taking place anywhere other than under my own roof.   When I surfaced again, just over two years ago, off-shore wind farms were being developed all round our coasts, but Clacton's had vanished without trace! 

 

            Then, quite suddenly it seemed, there came another promise of a 48 turbine wind-farm on the Gunfleet Sands off Clacton's shore.  This time though the developers were a European firm from a country that takes the threat of global warming seriously. They were Dong Energy of Denmark, a company with thirty years experience of the installation and maintenance of wind turbines off the shores of mainland Europe and of Great Britain.

 

            Dong did its research, made its plans with a straightforward time-table and published them. As I had confidently expected, they have so far stuck to that timetable.  The on-shore work has, as I write, been completed and the installation of the 48 monopiles and their transition pieces, which together provide the foundations and base of the turbines is taking place.  These monopiles are cylinders up to 40 metres long and weighing 230 tonnes each.  They are driven 40 metres into the sea bed by means of a hydraulic hammer, the process taking between two to four hours for each one.   The transition pieces, each weighing 230 tonnes and 23 metres tall are positioned on top of the monopiles.   They are painted yellow to make them more easily visible to shipping.

 

            Also before the end of this year, the off-shore substation will be installed and the laying of the off-shore cable, connecting the substation to the shore, will begin.

            Next year will come the installation of the turbines.   Each turbine weighs a total of 800 tonnes and will be brought in component form by barge direct from Esbjerg in Denmark.  It is expected that turbine assembly and installation will begin next spring.  As each group of turbines is completed they will be commissioned and brought into operation. It is expected that the as-yet-incomplete wind farm will increasingly be feeding electricity into the national grid from next summer until sometime in 2010 when the installation will be complete.

 

            While installation is in progress there will, in the interests of safety, be a 500 metre no-go zone round the perimeter of the wind farm.  However, once it is complete both fishing and leisure craft will be permitted to approach and pass freely through the wind farm site.

 

            Then perhaps, Clactonians will see the 'four-times daily sight-seeing trips' forecast in 'Tendring Topics (in Print)' many years earlier, to an installation that, it is expected, will produce enough 'clean' electricity to supply the needs of 120,000 British homes! 

……………………………………

 

A Civic Welcome!

 

            Next week, as I explained in last week's blog, I hope to be in Germany and will be unable to post my usual 'Tendring Topics…on Line'.

 

            I am very much looking forward to my visit but the prospect is becoming daily more and more alarming!  I had thought that I would be asked to do no more than attend the ecumenical meditation on the Zittau 'Lenten Veil', listen to some of my own words (translated into German) being read to the congregation, and perhaps to say a few words of appreciation and thanks at the end.

 

            A couple of days ago however, I received an invitation to visit the Town Hall at 9.30 a.m. on 24^th September, to be received and welcomed by the Oberbürgermeister (the Mayor)!   I'll let you know how I get on

…………

 

Relative Values

 

            As I write major banks are collapsing or threatened with collapse, tens of thousands of us are struggling to pay ever-rising fuel and food bills, thousands are threatened with unemployment and homelessness.

 

            Yet, at the same time, there are others who are able and willing to spend millions upon millions of pounds at an auction of modern art on items that to my, admittedly untutored, eyes appear to be not just rubbish but for the most part spectacularly ugly rubbish.

           

            No wonder that I often feel like a time traveller from the 1950s who has unaccountably found himself in the twenty-first century, and isn't really at home there!

………………………………..

 

 

 

 

 

 

Week37.08

Tendring Topics……..on Line

 

An Offensive Fence

 

            Circumstances nowadays often prevent my investigating in person, matters on which I'd like to comment.  I have to rely on newspaper, radio and tv news stories for my facts.  Just now and again though I do get the opportunity to see for myself.  Such an opportunity arose on Friday of last week (4^th September) when my son and daughter-in-law and my grandson Chris (on a brief holiday from teaching in Taiwan) and his charming Taiwanese girl-friend visited me.

 

            My son suggested that (despite the unrelenting rain!) we might drive over to Mistley and lunch at the Mistley Quay Café, overlooking the Stour with its swans and its views of the Suffolk coast, There they have an excellent, mainly vegetarian, menu featuring freshly harvested local produce.  Provided that you can manage the fairly steep stairway entrance (I can just cope!) it is a pleasant, welcoming venue for an excellent lunch, afternoon tea or morning coffee.

 

            My particular interest (apart from the company and the excellent meal) was the fence that had been attracting so much controversy in the local press.  Could it possibly be quite as awful as all the well-publicised protests suggested?

 

            It most certainly was.  It was difficult not to feel that the Mistley Quay and Forwarding Company, who are responsible for its installation, had gone out of their way to find the ugliest kind of barrier available.  Only electrified wire or a double barbed wire fence with guard towers at each end could have been worse!  A lovely view across the Stour will be completely ruined, yachtsmen will no longer be able to moor up at the Quay and an attractive corner of England's 'green and pleasant land' will have been comprehensively uglified!

 

            I have said 'will be' in the sentence above because, at least on 5^th September, the fence hadn't been completed.  Local protestors had parked cars and other vehicles in its proposed path. The Stourside communities are united in protest and they have  been joined by many other lovers of Mistley and its swans, including the local MP. 

 

 The Company had been told by the Health and Safety Executive that they must either close off the quay to the public, or provide full safety provision.  They chose the former option.  Nowadays 'health and safety' seems to be responsible for a great many idiotic things but surely, in this case it couldn't have meant much more than providing a couple of life belts and a rope, and perhaps also providing steps down from the quay to low water level.

 

            I think it at least possible that, even now, the Company may be deciding that the easier solution is to comply with those requirements.

 

            In an interesting post-script to this controversy an octogenarian who had lived in the neighbourhood all his life couldn't remember a single case of anyone falling off the quay.   Octogenarian memories aren't all that reliable (I should know!) but we do, I think, tend to remember all the disasters that have occurred in the past, if not the good things.

 

            Perhaps the health and safety experts could take their eyes off north-east Essex for a few moments and take a look instead at, for instance, Lake Windermere.  Now there's a stretch of deep and dangerous water that ought surely to have a high fence all round it.  Or perhaps spare a thought for The White Cliffs of Dover. There the consequences of going over the edge are rather more serious than those at Mistley Quay!

…………………………………….

 

 Who pays the piper?

 

            I don't always, perhaps not even often, find myself in agreement with our MP, Mr Douglas Carswell.  However, I share his indignation at the fact that he has been excluded from the Armed Forces Parliamentary Scheme Committee which exists to strengthen ties between MPs and the armed forces.

 

            He has apparently asked just too many questions about the standard of the arms and equipment supplied to our forces in Afghanistan.  As an example he claims that the UK's Lynx helicopters will not operate in the extreme heat that they sometimes experience there.  The government could have replaced them with American Black Hawk helicopters.  Instead though they have decided to build a new generation of Lynx helicopters 'which critics say will be much the same as the old ones but will cost twice as much'.

 

            Well, before passing judgement I'd like to know who 'the critics' are, and how they come to know something that is surely shrouded in secrecy.  On the whole I'd prefer to buy 'made-to-measure' in Britain than 'off the peg' from the USA.

 

            But then I'd prefer that neither a United States firm (and its shareholders) nor their British equivalent were profiting from the manufacture and sale of lethal weapons.  I think it likely that Mr Carswell would regard me as one of those odd people among whose ranks he tells us he is not to be found.  He is not, he assures us, 'Some sort of left-wing, hippy peacenik, who is opposed to the arms trade'.  Peacenick is a description I'd accept with pride. My soldiering days are long over and aren't we all supposed to be working for peace these days?

 

            I am strongly opposed to the arms trade. It saddens me to see anyone profiting from the death or maiming of our fellow men, women and children.  I look forward to the day when the arms trade is regarded in the same light as the slave trade.

 

            Am I then 'Some sort of left-wing hippy'?

 

Hippy? Hardly.  I don't think that there are too many octogenarian hippies who shave and shower daily, keep their hair short and their beards well trimmed, rarely venture out without wearing a hat (and I don't mean a woolly one!) and are seldom seen without a collar and tie.  'A left winger'?   Since the advent of New Labour I'm not at all sure what left-wing means.  On a number of issues many people, including quite possibly Mr Carswell himself, might consider my ideas to be thoroughly reactionary.

 

 

            Having said all that, I do strongly believe that Mr Carswell, as our elected MP, has every right to serve on a committee that exists to strengthen ties between MPs and the services, and to ask any questions that he considers relevant to that purpose.

 

            But then, I had imagined that this was a normal committee funded by the government like other parliamentary committees.  It appears that it isn't.  It is funded by private enterprise, including the manufacturers of the very helicopters of which he has been so critical!

 

 Mr. Carswell must surely know that 'he who pays the piper calls the tune'

………………………………..

 

 My trip to Germany

 

            In my last week's blog I said that this week I would explain why it was that I was so keen to go to Germany for a few days at the end of this month.  Since then there has been a story in the local newspaper about my trip that has explained this in some detail.

 

            I'll be quite brief then.  Towards the end of February 1945 I was one of about half a dozen British prisoners of war in Zittau, a small town in eastern Germany,  detailed to go to the town's museum for a heavy job.  This was to load a number of large and heavy wooden cases onto a lorry and go with them to a ruined monastery on the summit of Mount Oybin a small but spectacular mountain six or seven miles from the town.   We were told that they contained treasure (we thought in terms of gold or silver objects!) that was being transported there for safety.

 

            Years later I made friends with a Zittau family (I did admit to being a Peacenick!).  In correspondence I mentioned this particular task as being one of the odder jobs that I had performed while 'doing hard labour' in their town some sixty years earlier.

 

            They immediately thought of Zittau's famous Fastentuch or Lenten Veil, an enormous piece of linen that at one time had been used to screen off the sanctuary of churches in that part of Germany during the season of Lent.  Zittau's Fastentuch was unique in dating from the fifteenth century and in having 90 paintings, 45 illustrating Old Testament stories, and 45 stories from the New Testament.  It was greatly treasured in the town.

 

            At end of World War II it could not be found.  Months later it was discovered, in pieces, on the slopes of Mount Oybin where some Russian soldiers were using it to improvise an al fresco sauna!   Nobody knew how it got there until my friend received my email. Thus, I filled in a small gap in Zittau's very chequered history.

 

            This gave me a certain local celebrity that resulted in my being given a VIP welcome when I was able last year to visit the museum/church where the restored Fastentuch is now on public display.  It certainly was impressive.

           

This year three different Christian traditions in Zittau have been holding ecumenical meditations with pictures, words and music, on the theme of the Fastentuch, once a month throughout the summer, either in or near the museum/church of the Holy Cross where this historic religious artefact is displayed.   The last of these is to be held on Wednesday evening 24^th September and the 'words' of the meditation will be readings from an article of mine, 'Return to Zittau', (translated into German) that I wrote shortly after my return to England last year.  I have been invited to attend and to say a few words (through an interpreter, I hasten to add.  My German would be more likely to evoke laughter than meditation!).

 

            I shall, of course, be honoured to do so, and my son Pete and daughter-in-law Arlene have made my visit possible and are coming with me.  I don't know exactly what the 'three different Christian traditions', are but I suspect that they may be Roman Catholic, mainstream Lutheran and some kind of Evangelicalism.

 

            I am sure that whatever the three may be, my Anglo-Catholic Quakerism (or should it be Quaker Anglo-Catholicism?) should make an interesting admixture.

 

            I'll let you know how I get on.

……………………………………..

 

'Georgia's on my Mind!'

 

            A great many important people have publicly expressed their opinion about the recent conflict in Georgia and how to deal with its outcome.  The President of the United States (whom, I suspect, until a month or so ago had never even heard of South Ossetia of Abkhazia) has told us what he thinks about the situation, so has our Prime Minister and Foreign Minister, the French President and the German Chancellor.  We have also heard the point of view of the Russian Prime Minister and Foreign Minister and that of the President of Georgia.

 

            Just two voices haven't been heard. They are those of the people at the heart of the conflict; the South Ossetians and the Abhkazians. I have not heard a single Abhkazian or South Ossetian voice  on radio or tv.  Nor have I seen an interview with an Abkhazian or a South Ossetian reported in a single British newspaper.

 

            Could it be that everyone is worried that they might say the wrong thing; that they would prefer to have their independence, but that if that isn't possible they would rather be a part of the Russian Federation than of the Georgian State?  They have, of course, experienced both, and are thus able to make a more balanced judgement than any of those important people who have made their voices heard.

 

            Surely, if we really believe in freedom and democracy, the solution to this conflict is to hold a plebiscite under United Nations' control in both South Ossetia and Abkhazia, and to respect the will of the people, whatever it may be.

           

            I pray that we may be spared another Cold War.  That is something from which only the arms manufacturers would emerge as victors, and which could, all too easily, develop into a Hot War from which none of us would emerge unscathed.

……………………………………..

 

 

 

 

 

                          Tendring Topics……..on Line

 

An Offensive Fence

 

            Circumstances nowadays often prevent my investigating in person, matters on which I'd like to comment.  I have to rely on newspaper, radio and tv news stories for my facts.  Just now and again though I do get the opportunity to see for myself.  Such an opportunity arose on Friday of last week (4^th September) when my son and daughter-in-law and my grandson Chris (on a brief holiday from teaching in Taiwan) and his charming Taiwanese girl-friend visited me.

 

            My son suggested that (despite the unrelenting rain!) we might drive over to Mistley and lunch at the Mistley Quay Café, overlooking the Stour with its swans and its views of the Suffolk coast, There they have an excellent, mainly vegetarian, menu featuring freshly harvested local produce.  Provided that you can manage the fairly steep stairway entrance (I can just cope!) it is a pleasant, welcoming venue for an excellent lunch, afternoon tea or morning coffee.

 

            My particular interest (apart from the company and the excellent meal) was the fence that had been attracting so much controversy in the local press.  Could it possibly be quite as awful as all the well-publicised protests suggested?

 

            It most certainly was.  It was difficult not to feel that the Mistley Quay and Forwarding Company, who are responsible for its installation, had gone out of their way to find the ugliest kind of barrier available.  Only electrified wire or a double barbed wire fence with guard towers at each end could have been worse!  A lovely view across the Stour will be completely ruined, yachtsmen will no longer be able to moor up at the Quay and an attractive corner of England's 'green and pleasant land' will have been comprehensively uglified!

 

            I have said 'will be' in the sentence above because, at least on 5^th September, the fence hadn't been completed.  Local protestors had parked cars and other vehicles in its proposed path. The Stourside communities are united in protest and they have  been joined by many other lovers of Mistley and its swans, including the local MP. 

 

 The Company had been told by the Health and Safety Executive that they must either close off the quay to the public, or provide full safety provision.  They chose the former option.  Nowadays 'health and safety' seems to be responsible for a great many idiotic things but surely, in this case it couldn't have meant much more than providing a couple of life belts and a rope, and perhaps also providing steps down from the quay to low water level.

 

            I think it at least possible that, even now, the Company may be deciding that the easier solution is to comply with those requirements.

 

            In an interesting post-script to this controversy an octogenarian who had lived in the neighbourhood all his life couldn't remember a single case of anyone falling off the quay.   Octogenarian memories aren't all that reliable (I should know!) but we do, I think, tend to remember all the disasters that have occurred in the past, if not the good things.

 

            Perhaps the health and safety experts could take their eyes off north-east Essex for a few moments and take a look instead at, for instance, Lake Windermere.  Now there's a stretch of deep and dangerous water that ought surely to have a high fence all round it.  Or perhaps spare a thought for The White Cliffs of Dover. There the consequences of going over the edge are rather more serious than those at Mistley Quay!

…………………………………….

 

 Who pays the piper?

 

            I don't always, perhaps not even often, find myself in agreement with our MP, Mr Douglas Carswell.  However, I share his indignation at the fact that he has been excluded from the Armed Forces Parliamentary Scheme Committee which exists to strengthen ties between MPs and the armed forces.

 

            He has apparently asked just too many questions about the standard of the arms and equipment supplied to our forces in Afghanistan.  As an example he claims that the UK's Lynx helicopters will not operate in the extreme heat that they sometimes experience there.  The government could have replaced them with American Black Hawk helicopters.  Instead though they have decided to build a new generation of Lynx helicopters 'which critics say will be much the same as the old ones but will cost twice as much'.

 

            Well, before passing judgement I'd like to know who 'the critics' are, and how they come to know something that is surely shrouded in secrecy.  On the whole I'd prefer to buy 'made-to-measure' in Britain than 'off the peg' from the USA.

 

            But then I'd prefer that neither a United States firm (and its shareholders) nor their British equivalent were profiting from the manufacture and sale of lethal weapons.  I think it likely that Mr Carswell would regard me as one of those odd people among whose ranks he tells us he is not to be found.  He is not, he assures us, 'Some sort of left-wing, hippy peacenik, who is opposed to the arms trade'.  Peacenick is a description I'd accept with pride. My soldiering days are long over and aren't we all supposed to be working for peace these days?

 

            I am strongly opposed to the arms trade. It saddens me to see anyone profiting from the death or maiming of our fellow men, women and children.  I look forward to the day when the arms trade is regarded in the same light as the slave trade.

 

            Am I then 'Some sort of left-wing hippy'?

 

Hippy? Hardly.  I don't think that there are too many octogenarian hippies who shave and shower daily, keep their hair short and their beards well trimmed, rarely venture out without wearing a hat (and I don't mean a woolly one!) and are seldom seen without a collar and tie.  'A left winger'?   Since the advent of New Labour I'm not at all sure what left-wing means.  On a number of issues many people, including quite possibly Mr Carswell himself, might consider my ideas to be thoroughly reactionary.

 

 

            Having said all that, I do strongly believe that Mr Carswell, as our elected MP, has every right to serve on a committee that exists to strengthen ties between MPs and the services, and to ask any questions that he considers relevant to that purpose.

 

            But then, I had imagined that this was a normal committee funded by the government like other parliamentary committees.  It appears that it isn't.  It is funded by private enterprise, including the manufacturers of the very helicopters of which he has been so critical!

 

 Mr. Carswell must surely know that 'he who pays the piper calls the tune'

………………………………..

 

                               My trip to Germany

 

            In my last week's blog I said that this week I would explain why it was that I was so keen to go to Germany for a few days at the end of this month.  Since then there has been a story in the local newspaper about my trip that has explained this in some detail.

 

            I'll be quite brief then.  Towards the end of February 1945 I was one of about half a dozen British prisoners of war in Zittau, a small town in eastern Germany,  detailed to go to the town's museum for a heavy job.  This was to load a number of large and heavy wooden cases onto a lorry and go with them to a ruined monastery on the summit of Mount Oybin a small but spectacular mountain six or seven miles from the town.   We were told that they contained treasure (we thought in terms of gold or silver objects!) that was being transported there for safety.

 

            Years later I made friends with a Zittau family (I did admit to being a Peacenick!).  In correspondence I mentioned this particular task as being one of the odder jobs that I had performed while 'doing hard labour' in their town some sixty years earlier.

 

            They immediately thought of Zittau's famous Fastentuch or Lenten Veil, an enormous piece of linen that at one time had been used to screen off the sanctuary of churches in that part of Germany during the season of Lent.  Zittau's Fastentuch was unique in dating from the fifteenth century and in having 90 paintings, 45 illustrating Old Testament stories, and 45 stories from the New Testament.  It was greatly treasured in the town.

 

            At end of World War II it could not be found.  Months later it was discovered, in pieces, on the slopes of Mount Oybin where some Russian soldiers were using it to improvise an al fresco sauna!   Nobody knew how it got there until my friend received my email. Thus, I filled in a small gap in Zittau's very chequered history.

 

            This gave me a certain local celebrity that resulted in my being given a VIP welcome when I was able last year to visit the museum/church where the restored Fastentuch is now on public display.  It certainly was impressive.

           

This year three different Christian traditions in Zittau have been holding ecumenical meditations with pictures, words and music, on the theme of the Fastentuch, once a month throughout the summer, either in or near the museum/church of the Holy Cross where this historic religious artefact is displayed.   The last of these is to be held on Wednesday evening 24^th September and the 'words' of the meditation will be readings from an article of mine, 'Return to Zittau', (translated into German) that I wrote shortly after my return to England last year.  I have been invited to attend and to say a few words (through an interpreter, I hasten to add.  My German would be more likely to evoke laughter than meditation!).

 

            I shall, of course, be honoured to do so, and my son Pete and daughter-in-law Arlene have made my visit possible and are coming with me.  I don't know exactly what the 'three different Christian traditions', are but I suspect that they may be Roman Catholic, mainstream Lutheran and some kind of Evangelicalism.

 

            I am sure that whatever the three may be, my Anglo-Catholic Quakerism (or should it be Quaker Anglo-Catholicism?) should make an interesting admixture.

 

            I'll let you know how I get on.

……………………………………..

 

'Georgia's on my Mind!'

 

            A great many important people have publicly expressed their opinion about the recent conflict in Georgia and how to deal with its outcome.  The President of the United States (whom, I suspect, until a month or so ago had never even heard of South Ossetia of Abkhazia) has told us what he thinks about the situation, so has our Prime Minister and Foreign Minister, the French President and the German Chancellor.  We have also heard the point of view of the Russian Prime Minister and Foreign Minister and that of the President of Georgia.

 

            Just two voices haven't been heard. They are those of the people at the heart of the conflict; the South Ossetians and the Abhkazians. I have not heard a single Abhkazian or South Ossetian voice  on radio or tv.  Nor have I seen an interview with an Abkhazian or a South Ossetian reported in a single British newspaper.

 

            Could it be that everyone is worried that they might say the wrong thing; that they would prefer to have their independence, but that if that isn't possible they would rather be a part of the Russian Federation than of the Georgian State?  They have, of course, experienced both, and are thus able to make a more balanced judgement than any of those important people who have made their voices heard.

 

            Surely, if we really believe in freedom and democracy, the solution to this conflict is to hold a plebiscite under United Nations' control in both South Ossetia and Abkhazia, and to respect the will of the people, whatever it may be.

           

            I pray that we may be spared another Cold War.  That is something from which only the arms manufacturers would emerge as victors, and which could, all too easily, develop into a Hot War from which none of us would emerge unscathed.

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Week 36.08

                            Tendring Topics …..on Line

 

The Secret of Happiness

 

            Did you see the report that Essex University had carried out research into the amount of happiness or lack of it, to be found among residents of various locations throughout the UK?  You may be surprised to learn that those of us who are fortunate enough (well, that's how I have always regarded it) to live within the Tendring District are among the glummest in the country while our urban neighbours in Colchester are among the happiest.

 

            Astonishing! I can only assume that it is because we in Tendring are, on the whole, a sympathetic lot and feel sad for those who are condemned to live in noisy, traffic jammed towns.

 

            Actually, of course, the whole idea of the survey is nonsense.  Nobody is blissfully happy all the time and it would surprise me if anybody manages to remain permanently miserable.  A survey taken on a wet Monday morning after a chilly and rain-swept weekend would, I have little doubt, yield very different results from one taken late on a sunny Friday afternoon!

 

            My fairly lengthy experience suggests that those who actively pursue happiness (as distinct from pleasure, joy or gladness) are doomed never to overtake it.  True happiness, I think, is always a by-product of something else; perhaps the satisfaction of a difficult job well done, perhaps in unstinting service to a religious faith, a charitable cause, a political ideal or even 'Queen and country'.  Most commonly, I think, it is a product of unselfish love between fellow human beings.  What is more, I think that we sometimes fail to appreciate how happy we have been until that time of happiness has passed.

 

            When, as an 'other rank' British prisoner of war, I was at a working camp in Zittau, a small town in eastern Germany, we had a daily tear-off calendar in our barrack room (supplied by the German Red Cross? A friendly guard?) with a quotation on each tear-off date.   What little written German I know comes from making a point of translating those quotes into English every day.

 

            This is one, by the German poet Goethe I believe, that I have remembered over the years:

 

Lieben und geliebt zu werden

Ist das höchste Glück auf Erden

 

            'To love and to be loved in return is the highest happiness that the world has to offer'.  I have found that to be abundantly true.

 

            Which proves, among other things, that wisdom and inspiration can sometimes be found in the unlikeliest of places; in this case in an outpost of a prisoner of war Stalag in Hitler's Germany.

 

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The NHS and I!

 

            I have had more involvement with the NHS in the past twelve months than in the previous twelve years!  Ah well; that, I suppose, is what one must expect in old age.

 

            My earlier experiences, duly recorded on this blog, were almost wholly positive.  My cataract operation was performed quickly and efficiently without a hitch.  The operation on my ear, after a somewhat shaky start, (which almost resulted in my not having it at all), was carried out equally satisfactorily.  On neither occasion did I have any pain and I experienced only minimal discomfort.  Surgical, medical and nursing staff were efficient, friendly and supportive.

 

             Subsequent experiences have been rather less happy though I hasten to add that most of this was in no way the fault of the NHS.

 

            The Cataract

 

            Some of it was their fault though.  After I had had my cataract operation I was given instructions about putting drops into my eyes for three weeks.  I was also told that I should see my optician after about four weeks as I would need new glasses and that I would be given an appointment to see the consultant surgeon again, at the outpatients department in Clacton, after six weeks.  I should take my new glasses prescription with me when I saw her.

 

            I did exactly as instructed.  The optician confirmed what I had already diagnosed for myself.  The removal of the cataract from my right eye had in itself,  been successful. However, it had revealed that I had wet macro-degeneration of the retina of that eye.  This distorted my central vision.  It would not render me blind but it would prevent my reading, writing, typing and using the internet; almost all the things that at eighty-seven, I can still enjoy doing.

 

            However, my left eye is all right so far said the optician.  So long as that keeps going I can carry on.  In the meantime I ought to see the ophthalmic surgeon as soon as possible.  That would be all right I assured her, any day now I would be getting an appointment to see the ophthalmic surgeon at Clacton hospital.  

 

            That was what I had thought.  The days went by with no appointment.  The six weeks was due to expire on Friday 29^th August.   On the Wednesday I phoned out-patients appointment help-line.  The voice at the other end was helpful but totally confused.  No, there was no record of my having to have an appointment.  In any case there was no longer an ophthalmic outpatients clinic at Clacton Hospital.  I would have to come to Colchester to see the Ophthalmic Surgeon.  They could fix me up with an appointment for the 16^th September at Colchester.

 

            I was tempted to tell them to keep it.  It was two weeks late and not at the place I had been promised.  However, in the meantime, the fact that 'a cure' was now available for at least some kinds of wet macro-degeneration of the retina had been widely publicised in the news media. It could, just possibly, help me.  So I'll be there, and I'll let you know how I get on.

 

            I do feel though that on this occasion the NHS failed me.  They should surely have honoured the promises made to existing patients before closing down the Clacton Clinic. At the very least they could have apologised to us, explained the reasons why the Clacton Clinic had been discontinued, and offered us appointments in Colchester.

 

            The Ear

 

            I had thought that, whatever might now be wrong with my eye, the operation on my ear had been a complete success.  It had been an almost 'invisible mend'.  It had healed up well and I quite expected to have the stitches out and be 'waved through' by the surgeon when I saw her.  Yes, in case you are wondering, my family doctor, the optician, the ophthalmic surgeon and the surgeon who operated on my ear are all women.  And why not?   I certainly wouldn't want it to be otherwise.

 

            It is true that I wasn't too pleased at having to go to Colchester again for the removal of the stitches, and even less pleased at having to wait a couple of hours to be seen.  However, when I was finally ushered in, the surgical and nursing staff couldn't have been more friendly and helpful.   Their message though was a lot less welcome.

 

            I was told that the biopsy on the piece of my ear that had been excised had revealed that I had a 'very aggressive', skin cancer and that they would have to cut away a bit more, on each side of the existing wound, to prevent it spreading.

 

            I told them that I had arranged to go to Germany for the last week in September (I'll explain why in my blog next week) and that as it would almost certainly be my last trip ever overseas, I didn't want to miss it.  So, they have given me an appointment at the Elmstead Day Centre in Colchester General Hospital on 8^th October. I hope to be there!

 

            I'm not looking forward to it, but I'm not dreading it either, and I am certainly not worrying about it.  One of the few compensations of extreme old age is that, provided one has no dependents, there is really need no point in worrying about the future. Whatever misfortune may befall is most unlikely to last for long!

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A Nation in Debt!

 

            A few years ago, while caring for my disabled wife, I found myself watching a great deal of day-time television.  I was quite shocked to discover that day-time commercial tv seemed to be financed largely by 'ambulance chasing' lawyers and totally irresponsible loan firms seeking customers. 

 

The former were urging anyone who had had an accident of any kind to contact them on a 'no-win no-fee' basis.  The latter were offering loans to people who, in their own interest, should never have even considered borrowing money.   'Never mind', the tv adverts said, 'that you are unemployed, living on benefit, have been dispossessed, are already up to your ears in debt or have a bad credit record, we'll be able to help you.  You'll probably find that with us your monthly repayments will be lower than they are now. You'll have money left over to spend on the really important things in life!'

 

At the same time British Building Societies and Banks, following the bad example of their counterparts in the USA, were happily giving loans of 100 percent and more for the purchase of homes whose prices (not quite the same as their value) seemed destined to go up and up and up for ever.

 

It couldn't last.  And it didn't.  Boom has been followed by bust.  House prices have been falling steadily for over eighteen months and seem set to continue.  Many homebuyers are falling into negative equity.  At the same time Britain's economy is stagnating.  Mass unemployment again rears its head.  Thousands of homebuyers are already unable to meet their mortgage commitments and are being dispossessed and rendered homeless.

 

The government is taking desperate measures to try to stave off disaster.  Tax- payers money is likely to be used to help some avoid eviction, to the disgust of many of the slightly better off. They don't see why their money should be used to help the improvident.  Their own time may come!  Local authorities may be asked (or told!) to buy up houses from which folk have been dispossessed for letting to the new homeless; a good idea, but how typical to call on the public service for aid only when private enterprise and the profit motive have failed!

 

How much better things might have been if the Thatcher Government had not introduced the universal 'right to buy' for Council tenants, or if New Labour had had the courage to repeal this legislation when it assumed office!  Rural communities would have been preserved instead of being turned into dormitories for yuppies, and a   nationwide stock of homes for letting at manageable rents would have reduced the mad rush towards the unachievable goal of 'home ownership for all', and would have prevented house price increases far above general inflation.   There would now be far fewer dispossessions.  Local authorities, through their own housing schemes, would be able to cope with any temporary increase in homelessness, as they had for a century before the 1980s

 

It is worth noting that on mainland Europe, where most people are content to rent their homes (though not primarily from local authorities) there is no comparable housing crisis.  I hope that, in the future we may pursue European reality rather than an 'American Dream' that can all too easily become a nightmare!

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