I have not written for a while, I have been occupied by other things, but the summer season for the open air pool has ended and I now have more time on my hands.

Since I last wrote it seems so many bad things have happened from terrorist strikes to hurricanes and ethnic cleansing in Myanmar, little helped by the buffoonery of our own Foreign Secretary. Yet what is happening in Spain causes me great sadness. A great European country suppressing democracy and turning the apparatus of the state on its citizens.

The world probably does not need more countries at the moment, and I am sure that Catalonia is forcing the issue, but the state has reduced their autonomy and started to suppress the region in a manner similar to General Franco. This adds to the tragedy as we are seeing a rerun of the events of 80 years ago. Police leaving other parts of Spain being feted by the population. Our Nationalist friends in Scotland are supporting and drawing parallels to their own grievances, but they had a democratic referendum and we have not sent police north of the border with batons and rubber bullets. They may not like where they are, but they are there at the hands of their own countrymen through a democratic process. I may not hold their ideals, but I support their concerns for Catalonia, although I suspect for different reasons.

So my blog is back, but not how I wished to start it for the autumn.

Oh gosh there is a lot about the NHS and this election. Is it safe in their hands or not. Most will know that over the past few years the NHS has looked after me very well with my lymphoma cancer treatment and maintenance programme, the cataract as a result of the high steroid doses in Chemotherapy and then after years of waiting my replacement knees. Probably under the new regime I would still be able to see from one eye so that was 50% and good enough and I am sure that I would be too fat for knees. I wonder do they have a plastic template like the Post Office for measuring letters? “Sorry Mr Mackett, you failed to squeeze through the gap so we recommend that you learn to crawl again.”

Here in Somerset the NHS does us proud, watching the care my 90 year old neighbour got recently when he had a chest infection, both in hospital and in the follow up clinics and support.

This weekend has been a little traumatic as Jun was very poorly on Saturday night when I came back from the Radio Station. For nearly two hours the NHS gave us support, and reassurance when I rang 111, they checked up later that all was okay, a doctor rang to check up early in the morning to reassure and make sure we were okay, He referred us back to the local practice who saw Jun early today, lots of reassurance and precautionary tests have started. You cannot fault it, it is brilliant, outstanding. If you are worried that Jun as a foreign national has become an NHS tourist, I have to reassure you that we paid a lot of money as part of her last visa to the NHS, before the paperwork could be started. So we are upfront on this.

When it comes to the election, I do not care who you vote for. What you need to say to the candidate who becomes your MP is tinker with our NHS at your peril. Send them back to parliament, conservative, green, labour, liberal or UKIP, but make sure they are aware that they play around with the most precious thing in UK at their peril.

Yesterday, 11 May, was Somerset Day. It is our County Day and people fly flags, drink cider and fall over, but there is more to it than that. It is an opportunity to celebrate what is good in our County. Some of the radio stations, (well done 10 Radio) were very active with a day of Somerset themed programmes. The local BBC had teams out doing an A to Z of the districts that make up the county. My mousemat is an original Somerset A to Z that appeared as giant posters on the London Underground.

Anyway back to the A to Z, A is for Apple; fairly obvious the County is renown for Cider production and still is. B is for Baker; Maisey’s Bakery in Othery on the Levels, the last of the Levels Bakers; C is for Cheddar; and so on. The teams came up with innovative answers. My list would include T is for Tesco’s! Not quite what I expected, but the local branch had stalls from independent butchers, cheese and cider makers. Staff were handing out a little booklet that offered discount at Somerset visitor attractions, like the Fleet Air Arm Museum and Cheddar Gorge and money off cider and cheese.

It is quite strange how what you expect and what is reality can be quite different, of course today it is back to being the outpost of the largest retailer in UK, but for yesterday it had a local, human face that was welcome.

So will it be 50p off Thatchers or Brothers cider today?

Yesterday was a nice day, in all senses of the word. The weather was good and all I did seemed to work as it should do. It was a lot of radio though, a live one hour discussion on Tourism in Somerset and Frome with three good guests, then an interview record, then across the county to deliver a drive time show, by which time my voice was fading.

Coming back from Wiveliscombe was fun, the weather was just perfect and it made for a pleasant drive, the last part of my journey had me on a lane driving east with the bright sun getting low behind me. As i drove left on a bend, the shadow moved right and vice versa, so for the last few miles home I was dancing with the shadow of my car. Great fun.

My interview was with ‘Ki’ Longfellow Stanshall, the widow of Vivian Stanshall (Bonzo Dog Doodah Band, Tubular Bells, Sir Henry Rawlinson), she was a delight, she drawls and sounds like Lauren Bacall and was fun to talk and listen to. She swore, she cy=ussed and she dissed a few people, then stopped and told me I should edit it out in case they came after me, “dont worry about me darling, but we can’t have them coming after you”. Her early life was amongst rock and pop royalty as she worked for Bill Graham who owned the Fillmore(s) and would interject “you know Ray?”, after careful negotiation it would be Ray Davis of the Kinks.

She lived on a houseboat  owned originally by Denny Laine that was a World War One submarine chaser, she sailed a houseboat from Sunderland to Bristol, they lived life to the full and it was great to hear her story of life with a man larger than life who effectively drank himself to death.

In conclusion, I asked what was her favourite memory of Viv, she was quiet for a moment started, then checked herself, “he was marvellous at so many things and I loved him dearly.”

It was good to hear, she is still dancing with the shadow of the man she loved.

I am as most of you know passionate about Frome, I do not live there, would like to if I could afford it; but I am passionate about the town.

As I look at my own town, I feel that the reason it suffers is politics, local politics but drawn because they follow national political lines. Frome is so much better because it is Independents for Frome. No political allegiance, but passionate for the best for your town. It says a lot, without saying anything.

As the County Council elections draw near every day brings leaflets, I have done this for the town, I have done that….but nothing as to what I would do in the future. The vast green space that leads you into the town from the main A Road, will soon disappear under six hundred houses for the Duchy of Cornwall, removing the most attractive approach to the town in one move. We went recently to a ‘consultation’ I do not know if they ever take note of what people say. Nice young people fronting for the builder, who is relatively innocent in this case. We were showed a plan, local centre, it said, brilliant I said, just what we need, what size, capacity hall are you planning. Oh no it will be shops was the reply. They lost me, what this community needs is a community centre. A hall where young couple can have wedding receptions, where teenagers can have a youth group, where the band that will be tomorrows Foo Fighters can experience what it is to play in front of an audience who are more than just their mates. A Community Centre!

So for all you politicos, my vote is cast and it probably isn’t for you, because you do not aspire to my ideals for the community. I want a vibrant town with politicians who care about it enough, that they do not have to cite what they have done, most of which is for their own egos or political advantage. Let us have people like the lady who single handedly has raised the profile of our community markets. Let us have people, unlike our MP who turn up for photocalls with the Royal British Legion without a tie, when everybody is in their blazers and ties (and he is ex military). The politics of Westminster and the political parties is strangling our communities.

So don’t vote Conservative or Liberal Democrat, they have over the years completely screwed our county, vote Labour if for no other reason than you cannot believe that I said it. It is only local after all.

Little rant over.

It is St George’s Day, the patron saint of the English. In these strange time it seems, both, a little incongruous and also somewhat apt that our patron saint should hail from Syria and be of Italian extraction. Potentially, soon, we could be back to 1535, before Wales, 1707 Scotland and 1851 Ireland joined to make us the United Kingdom. St David and St Patrick are local boyos (bishops) done good. St Andrew, like St George is an import. Nevertheless they are all loved and celebrated, well all except St George.

BREXIT maybe the opportunity to redress the balance and give St George greater prominence. As Britain, well England leaves the EU (now back to being referred to as the Continent) and our three other partners in the United Kingdom head off to become provinces of Canada, Tierra del Fuego, Boston and New York, we English will stand proudly alone – once again.

Let us embrace this chance to rewrite history. After a period of stocktaking, we could go on the campaign trail – reclaiming our lost territories particularly those lost through Salic Law claims in Northern France. I am sure that the French on the northern coast, wearied after years of British run peace and refugee camps and selling tourists cheap wine and cheese will not put up much of a fight.

Prince Harry, stands out to be our leader on the campaign, he can make a rallying speech on the White Cliffs of Dover recalling past victories “Once more unto an Ibizan beach, dear friends, once more and close up the doorways with our English dead (drunk)”. Then using our two mighty aircraft carriers as a land bridge, the aircraft still not being available and the RAF not willing to fly as it is early in the morning, it’s not Wednesday and there are no half decent five star hotels in Dover. The army will be seen off by Pippa Middleton who will give each hero a favour, a sprig of Norfolk Mustard, bound in ivy and columbine (the social climber). So when fighting, our troops can taste the heat of battle while chewing on their favour.

In the van of our attack will be a Brigade from Leicester, proud in their blue and white with their newly approved (by the Queen) battle honour ‘Gibraltar’, for their plucky and bloody incursion in Sir Francis Drake style to Spain. They would be supported by mixed battalions drawn from Crystal Palace, Leeds, and Millwall. Strong lads who if the enemy won’t fight, they will – among themselves. The bands will playing stirring tunes to stiffen the sinews and summon up the blood, ‘Gibraltar, Gibraltar it’s my kind of town’ and ‘Do you know the way to Algeciras?’

Our progress will be swift, once on the flat, open plains in the hinterland of Calais and Boulogne we will rest a while at Azincourt. Here Prince Harry’s speech will have to have been rewritten no more Exeter, Bedford and Gloucester, these are rugby playing towns and their public school educated players will have connections in France and may be as treacherous as Scrope, Cambridge and Grey. They will be replaced by Southampton, Norwich and Portsmouth. As he jumps from his cart, Prince Harry leads his army onwards motivating them with his Cry…..

“For Good, Harry, England, and St Jude”

I have been following Japanese girl band for a while now. I have not succumb to falling into Otaku or wotagei subculture and the adoration that fans develop for their ‘idols’, but within my broad knowledge of world music it is an area I have gained a healthy understanding in. Perhaps if I were to be clever, or brave, enough to be on Mastermind it would be my second specialist subject.

I get a number of my Cds direct from Japan, and recently have been fortunate enough to discover a supplier here in UK. This weekend they are hosting an event in London featuring an excellent Japanese group or idol group FEMM, these are two really talented ladies, Femm by the way stands for Far East Mention Mannequins. I quite like them, they are talented, pretty and I suppose amuse. Their top song is Fxxx Boys, Get money, which of course disappoints me as I will never be able to play it on a radio show. OFCom would think all their Christmases had come at once and a rollover on the Lottery as well.

This is today, one hundred years ago Marie Lloyd was refused entry to the USA for ‘moral turpitude’ because of one of her songs. I have provided links to them both below, I like them both.

But as Marie sang “A little bit of what you fancy does you good”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aq6LKARJYZc

Today saw the very best of Somerset. The beautiful small village of Mells held its annual Daffodil Festival. Sadly I think the daffodils have all gone, well certainly the ones in my garden, but it is an excuse for a great day out.

Its success can be marked by this year when we arrived we were diverted around the village to the over spill parking, it was closer to the action I think than the routine parking and certainly much closer than those who had opted to leave their cars on the very outskirts of the village. I suspect some are disappointed when they get to the village and find the parking is free anyway and it is an entrance fee that you pay to support the village projects.

Although cloudy the temperature was just right for a healthy stroll around. The burger stalls are in strong competition with vegan delicacies and Indian curry wraps and some culinary treat from Peru, I am sure it wasn’t guinea pigs but that is what they eat in Peru and marmalade if you believe in Paddington Bear.

In the main event field there was that quaint English tradition of ferret racing, no doubt later when much beer and cider has been consumed there can be competitions on how many you can get in your trousers with the legs tucked in your socks – not a challenge for the faint-hearted. There were jewelry stalls, hat stalls, Indian shawls, bric-a-brac and the good find was seeing two old friends; the lady from Wraxall Vineyard  where they produce an excellent set of Rosé wines and sparkling white and the lady from the herb stall found in Wells Saturday Market. We came away with some unusual herbs to add to the collection and an arranged call to return to the vineyard to top up with Rosé.

I can recommend both as purveyors of extremely good quality and good value products, but that is what friends are for.

It is Good Friday, once a day of religious observance with strange, typically British traditions. In  the past the only people who worked were the building trades, and in particular carpenters, as  penance for putting Our Lord on the cross. It was also, traditionally the day you planted your potatoes. This latter tradition arose as for working class people it was the first non working day that they would have enjoyed since Christmas; the weather would have improved and the conditions were ripe for getting spuds and vegetables in the ground on your little plot.

Now we seem to have sold our souls to the Mammon of the retail sector and the shops are all open. Locally there will even be Sunday Markets on Easter day as we always hold our Market on the third Sunday of the month, even though you could hold it next week on St George’s Day, now that’s English!

So if Jesus lived and he were to return today, it would probably be a waste of time looking for money lenders in the temple, too many, like banks have closed and are empty. It would be better that he and his disciples attack the supermarkets.  I think I would join in, around the corner at our local superstore, where I would turn off the coolers in the dairy section and turn over the display shelves in jams, conserves and related products so our scepter’d aisles would once again flow with milk and honey.

I think Jesus might approve

I suppose this is about being satisfied with your lot in life. We spent all our lives thrying to keep up with our neighbours, or do we. It is interesting to watch human nature at work, and men being driven by their wives to get the garden tidied or a better car, or a better job and being miserable as a result. I have always had jobs I enjoyed and I am always thrilled after conducting weddings either grand or small. Nowadays it seems that people are being driven onto the local economy and weddings are big business and that means money.

Frome in Somerset has just got its town hall back. It never went away, but when Frome ceased to be a local authority in the 1970s the town hall became the local social services office and despite their good works the building was not loved. Now it is, it has been tastefully refurbished is back under the control of the Town Council and will be a focal point for the people of Frome and surrounding villages. One of their plans is to use the Council Chamber and other rooms as a wedding venue, this will be good for the people of Frome and I hope they grab the opportunity to get married there when it presents itself. There are hurdles to jump and loops to go through, but it is coming.

So you will be able to get married without the enormous costs that you might attract elsewhere. The Mayor declared it as a priority and so it should be.

Perhaps then people will be happier with their lot as there maybe more cash for other important expenditures.

Jun remarked that our grass is greener. That’s because we are happy and content, and when it was dark the other evening I broadcast lawn feed over it.