Thursday 24th December 2015

[citizenJA]

Good-afternoon, everyone. I've not read the entire thread yet.

I'm not a church goer, I attend no religious institutions and I've written here before I'm probably best described as a pagan, jesus-loving communist. I like the stories associated with Jesus, 'love one another'. The gruesome death part according to some tales were probably a literary device, making a circle: birth-death-re-birth. I've studied some of the worlds' spiritual traditions. Each share similarities at their core, simple wholesomeness.

We all share with each other our humanity - we are people, life. That's sacred, precious, awe-inspiring. I'm alive and so are other people. This is magnificent, as are other life forms and phenomena. It's unnecessary to study or practice a spiritual tradition to appreciate this, in my opinion. I don't like giving offence, other people practice their religion with forms I may not follow. That's fine. 'Argue not concerning god', wrote Walt Whitman.

Loving, kindness, tolerance and compassion speak through our words and actions. Or not. Send some spirits 'round tonight to touch lives, remind in no uncertain terms the sacred places we all share must be recognised, cultivated - the best within us all, life lived well and good, helping and not hurting - or, remain barren within, allowing needless suffering and endless death with fear at its core.

Dave's mentioned the 'Christian nation' thing again, eh? May you find out who and what you are, Dave Cameron, lose your fear and live a life. Take your Tory government on the journey. And others. We'll all be the better for it.

I've not yet found out more news of our friend loved, her love continuing, never-ending. I give my love to her family and hold close to me having known her. I'm better for having known her.

My mother is far from me and dying. I hope she finds peace and an end to her fear.

[rebeccariots2]

Here's an early Christmas present.

Simon Danczuk ‏@SimonDanczuk 29m29 minutes ago
After writing for one of them for the last 16 weeks, I'm taking time off from a column in The Sun on Sunday or The Mail on Sunday #break

Suddenly the man's Tweeting about events or places in his consituency. Is it finally sinking in he's upsetting those that put him there?

I have noticed that too Ohso. But I particularly can't stand the sickly duo (doubly self important) tweeting with Cllr Claire Hamilton that he's doing now. The Sunday paper review they carry out together is barf making ... lots of opportunities taken by her in particular to be outraged by Corbyn and fawning over Danczuk. I look at Cllr Claire as providing a bit of cover for him - making it look as if he's got more political allies locally than he might have. I may be wrong - I may be right.

[rebeccariots2]

Stray Dogs Sleeping in Cafe.jpg (54.63 KiB) Viewed 8400 times

BuzzFeed ‏@BuzzFeed 8h8 hours ago
This cafe opens its doors to let stray dogs sleep inside during the winter http://bzfd.it/1V8DT5S" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

[HindleA]

Off to join my parents in celebration of 60 years of being together I had 20,but view it very similar,in the range of experience.We had too short a time but made up for it in intensityI couldn't ask for more than thst.Have a great time everybody.

[TobyLatimer]

At least Santa will be able to get clean when he drops in. I can just about remember using one of these in the early 60's.

12325412_10201220329026806_1520925941_n.jpg (29.52 KiB) Viewed 8387 times

[rebeccariots2]

At least Santa will be able to get clean when he drops in. I can just about remember using one of these in the early 60's.

12325412_10201220329026806_1520925941_n.jpg

I remember them very well Toby. Separate bathrooms and central heating were things of fantasy for much of my childhood.

[rebeccariots2]

Have a lovely Christmas with your parents HindleA. Will be thinking of you - and raising a glass on Christmas day.

I will also be raising one to the incomparable LadyC.

[PorFavor]

Seems like a good point at which to wish everyone a Happy Christmas, however you spend it. I hope you all stay safe and warm.

[ohsocynical]

Martin Rowson's latest cartoon:

Rowson.jpg

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfre ... gee-crisis" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

I remember a Christmas when it was Vietnamese boat people dying at sea.

[ohsocynical]

Have a lovely Christmas with your parents HindleA. Will be thinking of you - and raising a glass on Christmas day.

I will also be raising one to the incomparable LadyC.

I second that HindleA.

I find myself still looking for LadyCs posts...

[ohsocynical]

Here's an early Christmas present.

Suddenly the man's Tweeting about events or places in his consituency. Is it finally sinking in he's upsetting those that put him there?

I have noticed that too Ohso. But I particularly can't stand the sickly duo (doubly self important) tweeting with Cllr Claire Hamilton that he's doing now. The Sunday paper review they carry out together is barf making ... lots of opportunities taken by her in particular to be outraged by Corbyn and fawning over Danczuk. I look at Cllr Claire as providing a bit of cover for him - making it look as if he's got more political allies locally than he might have. I may be wrong - I may be right.

I unfollowed him, but his posts keep popping up via Re-Tweeting...

[ohsocynical]

At least Santa will be able to get clean when he drops in. I can just about remember using one of these in the early 60's.

12325412_10201220329026806_1520925941_n.jpg

Our Christmas always began in the afternoon on Christmas Eve.
Mum would roll up her sleeves, clear the old ashes, re-lay and light the fire under the brick boiler in the corner of the scullery and fill it up with buckets of cold water.
She would fetch out towels and clean undies and nightclothes, drape them over the fireguard in front of the range in the kitchen and fetch in an extra bucket of coal to keep the fires stoked up.

Shortly before Dad was due home from work, the boiler would be bubbling gently and she would put the kettle and three big saucepans on the gas stove. Then, with a lot of clanging and swearing, in would come the tin bath that hung on the wall by the outside lavatory.

Laying newspapers on the floor and with cries of, ‘Keep out of me way, I don’t want you getting scalded and ending up in hospital for Christmas,’ mum would come in with a bucket of boiling hot water and tip it in the bath followed with a couple of buckets of cold and then mum would test the water with her elbow, because Elaine my little sister was the first to go in.
The bath was topped up with more hotters for me and then while we were still wrapped in towels, mum would get in and we’d help her wash her long, black hair with Eve Shampoo.
During the year she used Vaseline shampoo but the more expensive Eve had a picture of a woman with long dark hair on the front. The powder inside both brands looked and smelled the same so it was probably only our imagination or the glamour of the packaging that mum’s hair, which was also black and long had an extra sheen when she used it.

As a special treat and then only if she could afford it, every year at Christmas mum would buy a bar of scented soap with two matching bath cubes and a tin of talcum powder. White Fire, which came wrapped in red cellophane was our favourite, and as each of us got in the bath, mum would drop in half a cube.
Dad used to get in last, and used to say it was a good job he wouldn’t be leaving the house anymore for a couple of days, because he smelled like a woman of ill repute.

Rubbed down with warm towels, sprinkled lavishly with talc, and in our clean nightie or pyjamas, we couldn’t wait to put our stocking and pillowcase on the bottom of the bed, snuggle down with a hot water bottle under the clean sheets mum had put on our beds that morning, and wait for Father Christmas to come.

And although it was a very long time ago, every Christmas Eve as I stand in the shower, I slip back in time for a few moments and conjure up the combined smells of clean sheets, coal fires, airing clothes and clouds of White Fire scented steam…

[TobyLatimer]

At least Santa will be able to get clean when he drops in. I can just about remember using one of these in the early 60's.

The attachment 12325412_10201220329026806_1520925941_n.jpg is no longer available

I remember them very well Toby. Separate bathrooms and central heating were things of fantasy for much of my childhood.

We had an identical fireplace too, i remember mum baking Yorkshire puds in the oven for Sunday lunch.

The next house my parents bought (£600.00 for a 3 bed terrace !) did have a separate bathroom but it was usually occupied with one of those ceiling clothes dryer contraptions hanging over the bath, so the tin bath was still put to use

23727_2.jpg (58.31 KiB) Viewed 8349 times

[rebeccariots2]

Fab stuff from you Ohso, and Toby. Took me right back.

All that remains is to say something like - you youngsters don't know the day you were born. Just hear it in the voice from the curmudgeon in The Male Online.

[RogerOThornhill]

The next house my parents bought (£600.00 for a 3 bed terrace !) did have a separate bathroom but it was usually occupied with one of those ceiling clothes dryer contraptions hanging over the bath, so the tin bath was still put to use

We had one of those in the kitchen - almost certainly before we had central heating. Which reminds me of how cold my bedroom was in the winter in those days - facing north...with a tiny little wall-mounted heater.

[rebeccariots2]

This is becoming a little Monty Python we lived in a shoe sketch like, eh.

Those youngsters really don't know they day they were born.

[TobyLatimer]

The next house my parents bought (£600.00 for a 3 bed terrace !) did have a separate bathroom but it was usually occupied with one of those ceiling clothes dryer contraptions hanging over the bath, so the tin bath was still put to use

We had one of those in the kitchen - almost certainly before we had central heating. Which reminds me of how cold my bedroom was in the winter in those days - facing north...with a tiny little wall-mounted heater.

I remember scraping ice from the inside of the bedroom window in the morning. Quick bowl of porridge then off for at least a mile walk to school wrapped up in a duffle coat, scarf & balaclava with a packet of Victory V's for company.

(Hope i'm not beginning to sound like one of the Four Yorkshiremen )

[TobyLatimer]

[youtube]XDQVDeUbWd4[/youtube]

[ohsocynical]

The next house my parents bought (£600.00 for a 3 bed terrace !) did have a separate bathroom but it was usually occupied with one of those ceiling clothes dryer contraptions hanging over the bath, so the tin bath was still put to use

We had one of those in the kitchen - almost certainly before we had central heating. Which reminds me of how cold my bedroom was in the winter in those days - facing north...with a tiny little wall-mounted heater.

We didn't have any heating apart from the small black range in the kitchen which was really our living room, so my dad used to get up first every morning in the winter and light the range so the house would warm up. It was just a two up two down, with a scullery so it didn't take long for the upstairs to warm up...Even so when it was frosty we'd wake to the most fantastic patterns on the inside of the window.

It didn't seem to do us any harm, but it was hard work for the women. A constant fight with the grime from gas lamps, the damp, and not enough room to swing a cat...

You can make do on very little. But it's people/family/friends, that make that little go a long way...

[gilsey]

We had a creel (yorkshire for ceiling dryer) in the dining room, and a Parkray in there that Dad prided himself on keeping lit continuously through the winter. It had a back boiler which ran a few radiators in theory, but the heat never reached my bedroom at the back, it was quite a big house.

I have been following your posts this week as usual but we're having real problems with our broadband speed and for some reason this site is one of the worst, it's very slow to load. Hence I've been unable to thank anyone, so I'd like to do that now - thank you all for the wisdom and experiences you share with us here, I don't know what I would have done this year without this site to reassure me of my sanity.

I hope you have a very happy Christmas or non-Christmas, as you prefer. xxxx

[rebeccariots2]

Off to give the dogs a walk while this little bit of rare sunshine lasts.

We need a spell in the open, fresh air to help us recover from this morning's lasting image of the sudden explosion of matter from dog's anal glands that peppered the vets instrument cabinets and splattered up the opposite wall. I won't even go there about the smell.

Sorry for that.

Back later.

[RogerOThornhill]

Those would have been the days where we had our front room reserved for Sundays after lunch when my dad would light the fire, and when anyone came. It got to the point where we were all crowded in our dining room round the TV with the dining table in it too, that he thought it was a pretty silly idea so gave up the idea of keeping a room 'for best' and so the TV moved into the front.

[TobyLatimer]

This is not often seen sketch all back to front

[youtube]YPSzPGrazPo[/youtube]

[ohsocynical]

Off to give the dogs a walk while this little bit of rare sunshine lasts.

We need a spell in the open, fresh air to help us recover from this morning's lasting image of the sudden explosion of matter from dog's anal glands that peppered the vets instrument cabinets and splattered up the opposite wall. I won't even go there about the smell.

Sorry for that.

Back later.

Been there, seen it, done it etc.

And edited to add, and smelt it....

[ephemerid]

JA - what a lovely post. Holding you in the light.

HA - and another. Ditto.

How lovely some people are.

[ohsocynical]

Chimney Afire!

Mrs Turner who lived opposite us in Wolseley Street, and gave piano lessons, used to have the most spectacular chimney fires.
The belching black and grey smoke with orange and yellow sparks shooting up into the sky always put me in mind of the volcano shaped firework called Mount Vesuvius, which produced exactly the same effect, only Mrs Turner's infernos were a hundred times more spectacular.
When the first cry of 'Chimney afire' rang out, groups of children would suddenly appear from the surrounding streets and hang around to see what was going to happen. There was always the chance a chimney stack would collapse due to the high temperatures generated, wooden joists near the fireplace might begin to smoulder, or the glowing lumps of soot which tumbled down into the room might set the place alight.
Time after time we waited with baited breath because any of those options meant calling the fire brigade, but luckily for Mrs Turner, although not for us, it never came to that.

Catching the chimney was easy enough to do even when you were just trying to light the fire. Often the wood was damp or there wasn't enough paper, so in order to get it going a fireguard was put in front of the fire and a piece of newspaper was spread over the fire guard with a space at the bottom to suck air in. It was very effective and would create an immediate roar of flames, but if you got distracted and forgot to take the newspaper away at precisely the right moment, the paper often burst into flames and had to be stamped out quickly. And leaving the flames shooting up the chimney just those few moments too long if it was full of soot at the end of winter, or you'd skipped its yearly clean, meant up she'd go.

Dad never bothered with paper. He had to leave for work really early and every morning before he left, lit the fire so that the house was warm when we got up. With a five mile bike ride in front of him, to save time he used an old bit of hardboard instead of newspaper but had to be really careful how long he left it there, because the roar of flames was muffled by the wood. Mum would have killed him if he'd caught the chimney; apart from having visions of us all being burnt in our beds, it made an awful mess.

Everyone knew what to do if it did go. First of all the fire in the grate had to be doused with a bucket of water. Then it needed a bucket of water balanced in the grate to catch lumps of burning soot. Finally what ever came to hand that was big enough such as a sheet or a large overcoat, had to be drenched in water and stuffed up the flu. In the meantime the house was full of acrid smoke, a thick layer of soot had coated everything, and streams of sooty, ashy water had pooled around the fireplace. It sound drastic, but tackling it yourself was important. Calling in the fire brigade was the last thing anyone wanted because they went on the roof and simply pumped water down the chimney. That could really wreck a house. And they charged for the privilege.

Our row of houses built in the 1880's had a tiny front room, a middle room we called the kitchen which had a small range, and there was a brick floored scullery at the back. The scullery housed a cold tap, a shallow stone sink, a black, iron Victorian gas stove, and had a brick built boiler for doing the weekly wash in the corner,. It wasn't a place to linger.
There was a tiny iron Victorian fireplace in the front room, and the bedrooms had the same, although they had been used in Victorian times dad was nervous about their small hearths. He said they were too near the wooden joists and dangerous, so we never used them.

The range was a source of irritation to most housewives because it was such a mucky thing to clean, but it was the heart of the house and gave endless hours of pleasure either through the bread we toasted against and bars and lathered with butter, or its small oven which produced the tastiest roast meat ever. It disposed of every scrap of paper and cardboard in the house and kept the whole house warm in winter. Despite all that, mum was glad to see it go and saved up for a new one. She got Mr Denton who was a builder from down the road to fit a modern tiled grate. Made of dingy, light brown tiles, it released her from having to give the range a good going over every week with black lead. But it wasn't half as comforting.

The boiler in the scullery had its own little fireplace with a chimney which never wanted to draw no matter how windy, and on wash days mum spent hours on her knees on the cold brick floor trying to get it to light, so that was another thing that went as soon as dad, who was an electrician, had wired the house up for electricity and treated her to an electric boiler.

The coal man from Field Road was always cheerful which helped a little when he had to deliver our order, because with no side or back entrance he had to tramp through our tiny house with sacks of coal on his back. Ducking through the door no matter how careful, he would leave a trail of coal dust as he went. He coal was always dry which was good because it meant you weren't paying extra for water, but when he bent over and let the coal tumble over his shoulder into the coal hole which led off from the scullery, the dust went everywhere.
It was a good job we only had lino which didn't take two minutes to clean, but to save the coal dust spreading in the house, dad built a coal bunker out the back and we used the coal hole for storing odds and ends and hanging a chicken up to mature in the days leading to Christmas.

During the summer another of our pleasures was watching out for the Chimney Sweep's brush to shoot up from the top of the chimney. It always raised a cheer, because although he could feel through the wooden handle of his brush when he hit fresh air, he liked to hear we'd seen it. It meant he'd done his job properly.

I'll never forget looking up at the stars, the smell of soot and the vague haze that cloaked our street on nippy autumn evenings. They signalled the onset of winter and that meant Bonfire night and Christmas were on the horizon.
It was such an exciting time of year we never gave a thought to the problems the smoke could cause. Wrapped up warm we would play outside in the gas lit street revelling in the muffled silence of a thick pea souper, until dad or mum, worrying about what it might be doing to our chests, called us in for an early night.
Bronchitis or not, winter has never been the same since they brought in the Clean Air Act.

[PorFavor]

@ohsocynical

I can smell all those smells as I read your post.

Childhood revisited. I used to love the smell of the East India docks. Tar which, in winter, mingled with the other urban coal, smoke etc smells(real tar - not the horrible stinky stuff they put down on roads these days). And the smell of bonfires from the wood on the bomb sites which didn't get cleared for a long time after the war ended.

[Eric_WLothian]

I claim no responsibility for the following, which was sent by a friend:

Please be advised that all employees planning to dash through the snow in a one-horse open sleigh, going over the fields and laughing all the way are required to undergo a Risk Assessment addressing the safety of open sleighs.
The assessment must also consider whether it is appropriate to use only one horse for such a venture, particularly where there are multiple passengers. Please note that permission must also be obtained in writing from landowners before their fields may be entered. To avoid offending those not participating in celebrations, we request that laughter is moderate only and not loud enough to be considered a noise nuisance.
Benches, stools and chairs are now available for collection by any shepherds planning or required to watch their flocks at night. While provision has also been made for remote monitoring of flocks by CCTV cameras from a centrally heated shepherd observation hut, all facility users are reminded that an emergency response plan must be submitted to account for known risks to the flocks. The angel of the Lord is additionally reminded that prior to shining his/her glory all around s/he must confirm that all shepherds are wearing appropriate Personal Protective Equipment to account for the harmful effects of UVA, UVB and the overwhelming effects of Glory
Following last year’s well publicised case, everyone is advised that legislation prohibits any comment with regard to the redness of any part of Mr. R. Reindeer. Further to this, exclusion of Mr. R Reindeer from reindeer games will be considered discriminatory and disciplinary action will be taken against those found guilty of this offence.
While it is acknowledged that gift-bearing is commonly practiced in various parts of the world, particularly the Orient, everyone is reminded that the bearing of gifts is subject to Hospitality Guidelines and all gifts must be registered. This applies regardless of the individual, even royal personages. It is particularly noted that direct gifts of currency or gold are specifically precluded under provisions of the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act. Further, caution is advised regarding other common gifts, such as aromatic resins that may initiate allergic reactions.
Finally, for those involved in the recent case of the infant found tucked up in a manger without any crib for a bed, Social Services have been advised and will be arriving shortly.

Happy holiday (religious or otherwise) to everybody.

[TobyLatimer]

How to light a coal fire. Which sounds reasonable until you see who is giving the instructions

[youtube]6TpYj_FASck[/youtube]

[ohsocynical]

@ohsocynical

I can smell all those smells as I read your post.

Childhood revisited. I used to love the smell of the East India docks. Tar which, in winter, mingled with the other urban coal, smoke etc smells(real tar - not the horrible stinky stuff they put down on roads these days). And the smell of bonfires from the wood on the bomb sites which didn't get cleared for a long time after the war ended.

It's weird how we don't forget the smells but I guess the memory wouldn't be complete without them.

I loved the one in the Co-op on the corner. For some reason it always smelled more strongly of bacon, which was dry cured and not a wrapper in sight. It was delivered to the shop in bug hunks, hung on rails in the back of the shop and cut to order on a lethal looking bacon slicer.

[Eric_WLothian]

During the summer another of our pleasures was watching out for the Chimney Sweep's brush to shoot up from the top of the chimney. It always raised a cheer, because although he could feel through the wooden handle of his brush when he hit fresh air, he liked to hear we'd seen it. It meant he'd done his job properly.

...and having your chimney swept on a Monday was definitely considered antisocial - washing day!

[TobyLatimer]

@ohsocynical

I can smell all those smells as I read your post.

Childhood revisited. I used to love the smell of the East India docks. Tar which, in winter, mingled with the other urban coal, smoke etc smells(real tar - not the horrible stinky stuff they put down on roads these days). And the smell of bonfires from the wood on the bomb sites which didn't get cleared for a long time after the war ended.

It's weird how we don't forget the smells but I guess the memory wouldn't be complete without them.

I loved the one in the Co-op on the corner. For some reason it always smelled more strongly of bacon, which was dry cured and not a wrapper in sight. It was delivered to the shop in bug hunks, hung on rails in the back of the shop and cut to order on a lethal looking bacon slicer.

The small mining village I was brought up in for my first ten years only had a population of around 4000, yet we had a railway station, in the days of steam. We used it all the time, we often used to go out to Doncaster for a spot of shopping, or if mum was working during school holdays we would be dragged along with her on her cleaning job a few miles in the other direction.

I absolutely loved the smell of the train as it rolled in.

[RogerOThornhill]

The coal man from Field Road was always cheerful which helped a little when he had to deliver our order, because with no side or back entrance he had to tramp through our tiny house with sacks of coal on his back. Ducking through the door no matter how careful, he would leave a trail of coal dust as he went. He coal was always dry which was good because it meant you weren't paying extra for water, but when he bent over and let the coal tumble over his shoulder into the coal hole which led off from the scullery, the dust went everywhere.
It was a good job we only had lino which didn't take two minutes to clean, but to save the coal dust spreading in the house, dad built a coal bunker out the back and we used the coal hole for storing odds and ends and hanging a chicken up to mature in the days leading to Christmas.

During the summer another of our pleasures was watching out for the Chimney Sweep's brush to shoot up from the top of the chimney. It always raised a cheer, because although he could feel through the wooden handle of his brush when he hit fresh air, he liked to hear we'd seen it. It meant he'd done his job properly.

Fortunately we were end of terrace so the coalman used the side entrance to get round to the coalshed which morphed into a bike shed when we went to central heating, and then into a greenhouse after us kids moved out.

Having the chimney cleaned was good fun though - a man with a very noisy silver vacuum cleaner thing, all the sheets put down to make sure the carpets didn't get dirty...and then, just like you, a run into the street to sing out when his brush was seen out of the top of the chimney.

[ohsocynical]

@ohsocynical

I can smell all those smells as I read your post.

Childhood revisited. I used to love the smell of the East India docks. Tar which, in winter, mingled with the other urban coal, smoke etc smells(real tar - not the horrible stinky stuff they put down on roads these days). And the smell of bonfires from the wood on the bomb sites which didn't get cleared for a long time after the war ended.

It's weird how we don't forget the smells but I guess the memory wouldn't be complete without them.

I loved the one in the Co-op on the corner. For some reason it always smelled more strongly of bacon, which was dry cured and not a wrapper in sight. It was delivered to the shop in bug hunks, hung on rails in the back of the shop and cut to order on a lethal looking bacon slicer.

The small mining village I was brought up in for my first ten years only had a population of around 4000, yet we had a railway station, in the days of steam. We used it all the time, we often used to go out to Doncaster for a spot of shopping, or if mum was working during school holdays we would be dragged along with her on her cleaning job a few miles in the other direction.

I absolutely loved the smell of the train as it rolled in.

And I bet you used to get: "Keep your head in. You'll get smuts in your eyes."

[Tubby Isaacs]

Are we doing news today?

Report released into future of Network Rail (just one of many responses). Sounds like fairly strong stuff.

http://www.railmagazine.com/news/networ ... ays-report" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

Privatising Network Rail could be bad for passenger safety and lead to higher fares, according to a new report commissioned by the TUC and Action for Rail Campaign.

Staying On The Right Track, written by Dr John Stittle of The University of Essex, warns of a “disastrous” return to the days of Railtrack if NR becomes a for-profit company.

Don't think it's likely to be privatized- doing it last time helped them lose safe Tory commuter seats like St Albans.

[Tubby Isaacs]

An oddity here.

http://www.railmagazine.com/news/networ ... r-journeys" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

The revised project to electrify the north trans-Pennine line between Manchester, Huddersfield, Leeds and York is to be significantly bigger and more far-reaching than the original scheme, said Viscount Younger of Leckie, responding for the Government after a short debate in the House of Lords on December 10.

Where's the money for this come from? Sure, it goes a few years beyond the previous plans (2019, I think) but even so.

This bit's interesting as well. Remember them giving it large about all this electrification that they were doing, and how Labour hadn't done very much?

Turns out electrification isn't that important at all!

The original plan offered poor value for money. It included only electrification of the existing track, which brought limited benefits to passengers. The passenger benefits secured by the new upgrade proposal are expected to make the scheme medium to high value for money.

Quite how something offering "poor value for money" was ever approved in the first place, God knows. Remember too that the upgrade was "unpaused" a few months ago. Yet after that it was apparently significantly rescoped.

The cynical interpretation is that the whole point is to be able to say they didn't postpone the work at all, they expanded it.

[mbc1955]

Good evening everyone

This is just a fleeting visit to wish all you good people (so that excludes our new troll) the best of days tomorrow. May it be the oasis of contentment that you each deserve, in whatever way is best for you. And may your hopes, dreams and fairytales come true. Especially those that revolve round New York...

Rest quietly, Kirsty.

[Tubby Isaacs]

More rail? OK.

http://www.railmagazine.com/news/networ ... s-revealed" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

The cost to Government of the recently completed Northern rail franchise procurement process, to the end of November 2015, was £8.0 million.

The Scottish Government spent £4.8m procuring the new Caledonian Sleeper franchise, which ought to be far simpler. But anyway, it's a fair bit of money, even if the Northern Rail franchise deal signed looks fairly good.

[Rebecca]

[youtube]jg4sZZaf3Gg[/youtube]Oh well,here it is.Christmas Eve.
Jobs done.Fire burning.Dogs walked by moonlight.Champagne open.
Merry Christmas.

[MsChin]

Merry Christmas to all you lovely people.
xx

[55DegreesNorth]

Evening folks,
All jobs done here, including burning the giblets for tomorrow's gravy. Took the oldies out for lunch in North Shields today, then finished decorating the cake & opening the home made ham. Felt quite relaxed, until I heard my niece (a selfish fool) has booted one of her kids out. He's staying with my sister, who is skint, with no presents or spare clothes.
Hats off to our two sons, who asked us to donate some of their presents, as they've got plenty, and also made up a clothes parcel.
Merry Xmas to all here, and their families.

[ohsocynical]

[youtube]jg4sZZaf3Gg[/youtube]Oh well,here it is.Christmas Eve.
Jobs done.Fire burning.Dogs walked by moonlight.Champagne open.
Merry Christmas.

Sounds idyllic. Enjoy.

We're watching Scrooge with Alistair Simms. Mr Ohso has a firm grip on the remote control.

[ohsocynical]

Evening folks,
All jobs done here, including burning the giblets for tomorrow's gravy. Took the oldies out for lunch in North Shields today, then finished decorating the cake & opening the home made ham. Felt quite relaxed, until I heard my niece (a selfish fool) has booted one of her kids out. He's staying with my sister, who is skint, with no presents or spare clothes.
Hats off to our two sons, who asked us to donate some of their presents, as they've got plenty, and also made up a clothes parcel.
Merry Xmas to all here, and their families.

Good lads. Sounds as if you've done a good job with them. Kudos.

[Rebecca]

[youtube]jg4sZZaf3Gg[/youtube]Oh well,here it is.Christmas Eve.
Jobs done.Fire burning.Dogs walked by moonlight.Champagne open.
Merry Christmas.

Sounds idyllic. Enjoy.

We're watching Scrooge with Alistair Simms. Mr Ohso has a firm grip on the remote control.

I am not allowed to watch any Christmas films now ,or listen to carols ,
until,usually,the 27th,when Rosie,delighted that Christmas is over,puts them all on!She is so funny.And bossy.
Will Mr Ohso be able to eat Christmas dinner tomorrow,or is it still the pureed stuff?

[rebeccariots2]

Bonnie Greer Retweeted
i100 ‏@thei100 6h6 hours ago
People mock Cameron's Christmas message with 'You ain't no Christian bruv' http://i100.io/2rCQ12I" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

[ephemerid]

Signing off for the evening - Happy Christmas, all.

[AnatolyKasparov]

Before everybody gets stuck into the celebrations, one final local council byelection of the year to report:

Aylesbury Vale DC - Tory hold, but in contrast to many of their defences in safe wards recently they did not have it all their own way as a swing of over 18% to the LibDems since May saw them move from a poor fourth then to strong runners-up now. Whilst they were partly helped by the absence of a Green this time (they placed third with over 12% on GE day) there was also a double figure drop for the Tories (whilst this year saw the first contest since boundary changes, they also won the main predecessor ward easily in recent years, being returned unopposed back in 2003) The yellow surge meant that UKIP failed to benefit as they had hoped - whilst they polled very respectably with nearly 20%, this was slightly down on earlier this year and probably disappointing for them given that this is an area where they have done notably well in recent years on anti-HS2 sentiment.

That's it for now, indeed until Jan 7 which sees the first contest of 2016 (in Carlisle, flooding permitting)

Season's greetings and best wishes to all

[ohsocynical]

[youtube]jg4sZZaf3Gg[/youtube]Oh well,here it is.Christmas Eve.
Jobs done.Fire burning.Dogs walked by moonlight.Champagne open.
Merry Christmas.

Sounds idyllic. Enjoy.

We're watching Scrooge with Alistair Simms. Mr Ohso has a firm grip on the remote control.

I am not allowed to watch any Christmas films now, or listen to carols ,
until,usually,the 27th,when Rosie,delighted that Christmas is over,puts them all on!She is so funny.And bossy.
Will Mr Ohso be able to eat Christmas dinner tomorrow,or is it still the pureed stuff?

Yes, I've been gradually introducing more greenstuff and fruit into his diet, and not having to puree the little he was allowed.
Quantities need to be far smaller though, otherwise he'll feel bloated and queasy but that's fine because he's losing weight nicely and I'd been reducing the amount he was eating anyway. It's been fairly seamless thank goodness.

[ohsocynical]

CXBJLokWMAIsJlk.jpg (47.19 KiB) Viewed 7980 times

This is NOT Mr Ohso...Oh I dunno

[tinybgoat]

Best advert for central heating, I've ever seen.
Quick get those chimneys boarded up!