June 2015

Bobby Singh rang me to ask if I fancied drinking.

So we met in Shoulder of Mutton. Kirk gate, Bradford.

He knew everybody there, their family, their record; and everybody obviously loved and respected him.

I dragged him up to North Parade, and we sat outside in that show off sun thing. He still knew every beggar passing, apart from the beggars, who got short shirft from both of us.

I ended up at the last pub alone. Peter. 79 year old, with a moustache and an attitude he’ll take to the grave, would not have got me reacting if I’d been in company, especially if he’d not known Bobby.

I met Joe. Keith and Edmond in the Gent. I had no need to go elsewhere; and last year I I voiced a very loud opinion about the Gent, in the Gent, to the Gent; and he spook me hand a few month’s later when I next went in. So me getting stuff off my chest in Bradford does not mean I cannot go back to that pub.

So I reckon that as long as I become rich enough to get 2 buses in a day, even I cannot get angry enough in different boozers in Bradford to have no boozer to drink in. In Crawley I’d do that in a day with an all day bus ticket!

PS. Bobby bought me an Indian whisky in the Record Cafe, first Indian malt whisky, at 50% and a lot cheaper than the massively over priced Ardberg Dave bought me on Sunday.


I cleaned the front room this morning to make room for what Ann and Phil brought up from Crawley. 

There is stuff still in the Crawley garage, if I want it I carry it back. After the last 2 trips back, carrying a mule’s worth in weight, I’ll not be carrying much. 

There was not a lot of stuff to fit in. Downstairs is almost clean enough to invite in the house! 

When me, Dave and Mike left Idle Cricket Club nobody would listen to me (who’d read a timetable and got there by bus) as we walked up the hill, past 4 stops that ‘our’ bus would pass. 

Just before we got on the bus I accepted a million pound bet from Dave that the bus would not go down the hill we’d walked up. The driver heard it. 

Dave tried to convince the driver to go a different way: and as we passed the stops going down the hill Mike pointed and said:

We could have got on at that stop!

So quick I didn’t have a chance. 

It’s good to have mates. 

Windhill got 261.

A pair of swallows were feeding below us. 




Windhill batting first. 43 for 1 after 10 overs. 


Basil mailed to point this out. I did know the name, but was not sure how many k’s. I had just unpacked the Finnish made map of Salmi that appeared in the last blog that clearly marked the village as Karkunkylä. Basil thinks this might be the name of the station.

He also sent links to historical sources about our family. I will try and remember to post them on here.

Discovered that if you google “Karkku Karelia” this blog is 2nd & 3rd.

If the World War had not changed the world, my mother’s family village would be celebrating its saint tomorrow, the traditional midsummer, starting with boat burning as the sun sets tonight. All swept away seven decades ago by the Red Army, who crossed the Finnish border just a few kilometres from the village Nov 1939. 

 The family farm was between the small lake half way across the picture and the massive Lake Ladoga that fills the bottom of the picture. 

Coincidently Radio 3 are celebrating Finland now. http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b05zh98t Edge of Sound Beyond Finlandia. Music’s fine but Tom Ravenscroft does not suit. 


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