The debonair Basil Marigold's

In the words of the song, by Edwin Starr.  War, huh, Yeah, What is it good for, absolutely nothing, Uh Huh. Although, yesterday this was proved wrong as it was good for something. It is good for the 6,000 people who I am told are member of the Sealed Knot   . There are those of us, whose hobbies tend to be more sedate in nature; Reading, Gardening, making ships out of matchsticks and then there are those who believe that a weekend could not be complete without charging into some one else behind a 30ft ash pike, dressed as a time traveller from the 17th Century. I am, sadly, not one of these individuals as the idea of camping that frequently fills me with dread. Let alone how you tie down a pike or a halberd to the roof bars of a Ford Fusion. But thanks must go to those individuals who, do, want to live that lifestyle and be truly passionate about their hobby. And I guess be passionate about that 'Period' of English History to want to spend their time and their money

...Especially Adult education. A fair few years ago I began to learn italian at the local adult education centre, on a Monday night. I had always wanted to learn the language of a country, whose ancient history had been a rather important part of my life. Secondly, and perhaps more subconsciously I wanted to meet some new people as I had moved to the area a few years prior to this and had, had enough of my own company in the evening and needed to get out some. It worked on both counts, I loved learning Italian and after about 8yrs met a quite lovely girl too, and we became paramours for a while as we shared so many cultural references. I don't know where she is now, or what she is up to but I think she will always be the most intelligent woman I have ever met, her intellect was ferocious. She was learning Persian; I was doing a classics MA and we were certainly intellectually competitive. But as I say, we also found ourselves in Sutton, on a Monday night learning Italian to begin

Facebook, arguably one of the two greatest internet success stories of the last decade, the other being Google (to be kind we won't mention, Google +, and most certainly not Google Wave!). They have both become behemoths on the internet; One dominates social media the other internet searches.  So, Facebook has made the move to a public listed company. It has made it with a huge value, £104bn (£66bn). But it is still a small child compared to the large tech beasts, as viewed from market capital; As you can see, Apple dominates the Tech industry with Microsoft quite a way behind. But the fundamental difference between Apple/Microsoft & Google/Facebook, is that they make 'Things'. In the case of Apple, they make very beautiful things. Microsoft make 'not as beautiful things', but they are on millions of more machines than Apple tech.  And this is where both Google and Facebook sit, precariously. Why? Let's talk Facebook. Facebook doesn't make

Or what seemed a brilliant idea at the time, comes back and bites your bum! A few weeks ago, I bought a Butternut Squash for a meal. They are very nice and make a good part of a meal. My daughter, who is now 3 watches a TV programme called 'Mr Bloom', where (apart from the awful, faked Northern Accent, because only Northerners have allotments, of course), he has a shed of animate Vegetables, who he has adventures with and so do the children who visit his allotment. One, as you may have gathered is a Butternut squash, called, 'Raymond'. He is bit slow, but eminently 'lovable' because of this. So, my brain wave was drawing a face on 'our' Butternut squash and e Voila, 'Raymond' has visited my daughters house!  Today was the day that 'Raymond' faced the chop. Literally. But as the act was to be done, so to speak. My daughter came in and said, 'No, don't chop Raymond'. I then tried to explain that it wasn't Raymond, but ju

Whenever you travel around the world, there is always the 'odd' thing that you come across that asks more questions of its existence than it actually answers; One of these objects arose in Malta. Set in a plain, large and bland wall, there was this. Just a locked, safe style door. As I said, set into the anonymous wall which could lead to many attempts to think what it may be or what it may contain. The mysterious door Any offers as to what there lies behind this small metal door, more than gratefully received. Here are some of mine; 1) After 9/11 the entrance to 'Wonderland' was 'beefed' up to prevent any unauthorised entry's, after Alice came. 2) The escape hatch for the Smurf civilisation.    3) The original 'Maltese Falcon'.   4) The unknown, Maltese back door entrance to Mordor.

For the bank holiday weekend and in continuation of what appears to be the Theaker family's exploration of the Midlands Industrial past, we visited the Midland Railway Station today, about two weeks after the brilliant Papplewick Pumping Station. We seem to be a family obsessed by steam at the moment.  This weekend we went to Butterley where the main station is based for deaprtures, not the best part of the track as that would be Swanwick junction, because Grace's Nanny was up and we thought they'd enjoy the time out. The attraction itself is actually, free entry. What you pay for is the train rides to and from Butterley to Swanwick Junction (There is the opportunity to walk the distance too, should you not wish to pay). We went on the trains and the children, who were under 5 went free, so we only paid for 2 adults and an OAP, or more kindly an over 60! I laugh at my mother's age, sadly realising that as she ages, then so do I. The station itself was fairly neat a

Before I was married I studied, while working, successfully for a Masters degree in Classics. Over this three year period, one of the hardest periods of my life I developed a heightened sense of procrastination. There were some times where I could quite happily go out and run for three hours to avoid reading about the role of the 'Athenian Chorus', or the excessive nature of 'Medea'. Disappearing into the wilds of Underwood Felley for hours on end was a great pleasure and in a way helped me form my thoughts too. Today, life is that little bit different. My ways of procrastination have altered to reflect my changing circumstances. This below is where I am now, essentially, at.  Raymond the Squash - Big Budget Raymond the Squash (cut price) I am convinced, as was my daughter, that Raymond the Squash visited us today. Sadly, I haven't thought far enough ahead to consider what her reaction may be when Raymond, the squash becomes Ryamond the 'chopped

It tends to happen when I go abroad or visit somewhere in the UK mainly out of the way and very rural, the best place so far was when we visited a cottage site in Northumbria last year. What happens is that you get a chance to see more of the night sky. In Malta on a clear night I could not quite believe just how clear and definable the moon’s surface was from the balcony that I sat on one evening. The Villa was in the north of the island of Malta, and although in quite a built up town. It was located midway down a valley and with few street lights the night sky was less polluted than seen from home. The great grey craterous areas face you like lunar continents. If I ever have to move to Malta then I am beginning to think that before I purchased the sofa and the television and the rest of the furniture I would need to consult the Maltese Yellow Pages and buy myself the most powerful telescope I can find as the night sky there would prove a suitable compliment to that telescope I woul

It is, quite frankly, stunning. From the high and very solid looking fortified walls to the narrow, high walled 'Triq's or streets that spidered off some open squares and Palazzo's. These facets reminded me of my day out to Toledo, taken many years ago as there are many similarities between the two; both were historical capitals superseded by a bigger, more affluent city; both are surrounded by large fortified walls that sit on high plateaus that dominate the surrounding area which is mainly central and inland; In modern measures the resident population is quite small and the main people seen within the walls are the tourists who duly arrive daily with hire cars and buses. Yet they both, as cities, retain a lovely sense of historical dignity and a feeling of importance. Both contain large Roman Catholic Churches, Toledo’s more ornate and imposing, as befits the old capital of a once great and wealthy kingdom, indeed at the time one of the period’s world superp

I have run In a few countries now. It is always an interesting experience. The change of terrain, the different weather, etc.   You also get some great sites and views; I have finished a marathon in an Olympic stadium, I have crossed the finish line outside of the Colosseum, run through slate mines in north Wales and jogged over a beach in the south of France will the sun went down beyond the horizon. What I have never experienced, until Malta was the full on car sex experience. As I turned around a bend to get onto the seafront stretch of a landing, there sat a small, white Vauxhall Corsa.   Only as I got closer to the car did I notice what was occurring inside, as the lady's head began bobbing up and down, for me to realise there was a gentleman's head underneath as the sudden realisation that, at 9:30am, in Malta, on the seafront the couple were without clothes attempting to increase the population while I went past. As I have said, I have seen many sights and many thi

Malta was conquered by the Romans 200 years before the birth of Christ, (It was a side effect of the Punic Wars) and it became another piece of land annexed by chance more than design as other pieces did by way of Rome's world war with Carthage. Beginning the long history of Malta ’ s strategic place  in relation to the Mediterranean made it a strategically useful place to be in possession of. Yet, there is very little of Rome's footprint that remains, particularly in way of discovered towns and cities, which is a little odd as there will be by definition of its size, no Pompeii, no Londinium, but there is nothing of a smaller size, no defined town or capital as there would have been. Through works by historians such as Livy we know there were towns in Malta, indeed it would have by Roman standards, a municipal centre, where the appointed governor, or governor legate administered Rome's interests. Visiting the Roman Domus (house) today, I was struck by the wealth th

Nothing is quite as beautiful or as awe inspiring as a good, old fashioned thunder and lightning storm over head. Here in Malta, there has been one building for a while and it came across tonight, not as fork lighting but just flashes of lightning and strong sounds of thunder, or as Pink Floyd described it, ‘ The Delicate Sound Of Thunder ’ ). It reminds me of Macbeth's soliloquy where life is full 'sound and fury', that is the encapsulation of a thunder storm, 'sound and fury'. Of course, Shakespeare then had Macbeth say, that it 'signified nothing'. I am not sure that applies here, and it always feels as though it is the sound an angry world would make. Indeed on some planets in our solar system you would of course be subjected (could you survive in the environment, to witness it), a lifetime of continual storms that would make ours seem like a small firecracker when set off next to an atomic weapon. …As a bizarre end note, on the day I returned to w

The moon is clearly visible tonight and seems so close that I can make out features. I presume that the reduced light pollution, compared to he UK makes the night sky here much more visible. And while I am out, how nice is it being able to sit out in short sleeves at 9pm and you feel just lovely and comfortable. In Kirkby even in summer you'd need a coat and a snood!

Right now, I am writing this sat on a balcony. It is now dark, but enough light pollution to see the shadowy outlines of swaying palm trees. I am listening to Acrobat by U2 on the iPod. A song I love and certain lyrics I try to live by, but that is by the by. The palm trees mean I am not at home. Not even close. Probably closer to north Africa than home. Maybe the furtherst south I have been. Sat on a sun bleached rock set within the med. Malta, here I am. 2000 yrs after St Peter was shipwrecked. I have arrived, by big silver bird. My initial impression is that Malta feels a good place to be. How it has survived I do not know. It is not a place that you feel is self sustaining and the modern age, like most southern Mediterranean countries varies between cutting edge modern life, and on the other hand almost medieval, labour intensive farming and that particular southern med craziness, you cannot help but love. Driving through the island was an experience as a passenger, crazy pot

Beware the Ides of March, which is now. The 15th of March. The day that Gaius 'Julius Caesar' was assassinated by a group of Roman Senators. Typcially Roman motives of Greed and political Power dressed up in the desire for Liberty. Caesar dominated Rome up to his assassination following his victory in the Civil War. He had been appointed Dictator of Rome a few times, but had either resigned or had a set time period (Dictator in Rome was usually a position allowed for a set time, or until the emergency had passed). A month before his death, a subservient Senate filled with newly promoted Senators helped to refill the Senate after its gutting in the civil war, and friends or allies of Caesar, voted their master the office of Dictator for life. Caesar had become king in all but name. Indeed, he had refused the offer of King of Rome three times. For all their flaws, the Romans had a massive grudge, for good reasons, against Monarchy (Mainly the Etruscans, expelled in the 500b.c'

As always the BBC have found a unique, non-mainstream but inherently interesting little story or discussion, here  It centres on what people do, or do not do with their relatives ashes. The interest is that you, certianly I, presume that they all get collected afterwards by the relatives. This though does not appear to always be the case. The idea that you walk out of a crematorium, thinking to yourself; 'Well, I have my umbrella, the wallet is in my pcket, the children are behind me...so, what have I forgotten?' Seems a little strange! It also hadn't crossed my mind that those that do wish to be cremated, can at times not specify what they want doing with their ashes. I have discussed my options earlier in the blog's history. I believe a nice pencil set was my choice. One of the people interviewed say that they tend to get scattered in the garden of remembrance. This was the case with my grandad I seem to remember, but it is an interesting point. I don't think

After what seems like 6 months of darkness and dingy-ness, today, this very afternoon. The sun blazed high in the sky and what burst forth from this burning orange sphere was....Heat. A glorious, body warming heat that made you sweat when you walked and coated the landscape in a beautiful haze. A lovely day!

I can think of nothing, arguably more vile, than the new product unveiled by Kraft. I am hoping that the sole purpose of taking over Cadbury's was to be able to put cheese in the same tub as chocolate. I am hoping, but I think I may be sadly wrong on this count.  Only in America can a group of executives sit down and have the following conversation; 'I love Cheese' 'me too. But I also love Chocolate' 'Yes, me to' 'If only I could save time and have cheese with my chocolate and not have to open two separate packages!' 'Hang on! We have a massive research division. Let's do this....' And here you go. And somewhere in the North of England, in model making land. Wallace and Gromet, died.

But every time I  climb any form of steps, my actual body cracks in the groin area.

I have embarked on a new course, which I hope will help towards where I work now. It encompasses an area I am at times familiar with and know a little about. Other areas might as well be in a foreign language for me. But there in lies the challenge. It isn't anything to do with either the Romans or the Greeks, for the first time in my life. That may be the next course, perhaps! There are days when it can flow well and there are days when it is like pulling teeth. I especially enjoy sitting in front of a document and realising that I, in now way understand what I am being told, why I am being told it and what I will actually do with it once I have conquered the first two issues. I feel like an idiot. This is not easy for me, academically, at least. Not a situation I am often faced with, as has been previously mentioned I have been fairly well focused on Classics for the last 17years or so in one way or another.  Yet, for all this swimming in unfamiliar water the results of the f

One of the many reasons, I do not use Hotmail as my main account is that it is particularly prone to being hacked. My mate's was today so I received a couple of spam emails selling drugs and, working from home earning millions. Yet, one of his friends replied informing him he had been hacked and to change his password (Hence, passwords should be varied a bit, every now and again). I was copied in and I saw that he must have an old email address as I was tonytheaker@tiscali.co.uk. This was one of my very first email addresses! I felt a little tear of nostalgia form for that Tiscali account, which I had when I was using dial up internet and got kicked off every 2 hours.It must be over a decade old. 

There comes a time when you accept you've made a mistake and realise that you should have made that different decision a few years ago. Yes, it's time to talk mobile phones. Two years ago I chose the Blackberry Curve. It was a stalwart of the smartphone market, one of the big beasts. It is a good phone. I will always think that, but sadly over the last year it has failed on almost all the other fronts that make smartphones mini-computers.  At the time I was a councillor and the Blackberry email facility put it head and shoulders above the iphone for me. In fact, I will still argue that as a 'phone' the blackberry is probably still superior to the iphone. At least up to the '4'.  As a business tool it was great, phone was reliable, the email was instant, and the messenger was also a great communication tool when other colleagues had the blackberry too. Especially, it seems when you wish to organise a riot, etc.. But, times do change and it did seem to all st