Thursday, 29 November 2018

Thursday 29 November

David Cameron will be remembered as the Prime Minister who gambled with independence for Scotland (which did not materialise). He was another Conservative leader who was unable to stifle the internecine warfare within his party, exacerbated by the likes of Nigel Farage, leading to Brexit - a disaster in waiting. And he was the Prime Minister on whose watch the foodbanks came into existence. Isn't the idea of social security that people who are (for whatever reason) unable to (find) work sufficient means to meet the costs of living? Foodbanks are a bright-red signal that the system isn't working. The current Universal Credit fiasco (where you have to wait 5 weeks for payment after applying) makes it a helluva lot worse. If that isn't bad enough, Brexit will lead to an economic shrinkage of 2 to 9%, that's a recession bordering on depression. Over a 100 months of Tory government - what a catastrophe.

Thursday, 22 November 2018

Thursday 22 November

Well, my national blog posting month has fallen by the wayside, I have to admit. I found having to cope with two bereavements within the space of one week a little much to cope with.

Donna Diggins was laid to rest two weeks ago today, and her internet postings have been preserved for posterity. She was known for her beautiful creations, one of which I reproduce below. Donna was a stalwart of our on-line community of bloggers for 15 years, and had suffered from cancer.



Sophia Dale will be remembered at an event in her home island of Berneray. She was born in Australia, but had been living in the Western Isles for over twenty years. A musician and artist, Sophia was well involved with community life, even more so after her move from North Uist to Berneray. I met her in 2013, and found her a great personality, who I shall miss not being able to visit again. I am pleased that her little cat, Torran, is being looked after by one of Sophia's friends. The poor creature continues to look out for Sophia's return.


As I type, darkness is falling on a bright, late November day. We've been lucky in the islands this week, having the sunniest and mildest weather in the country. Today is also Thanksgiving in Lewis, and that's not Turkey Day. Today is one of the quarterly Communions in the Presbyterian Church, and the faithful can be found in church, answering the questions of the catechism. It is also to give thanks to God for a bountiful harvest, both on land and at sea.

Monday, 12 November 2018

NaBloPoMo - day 12

Not much to blog about today, as I've spent the day recovering from a sudden bout of cold. I'm still coming to terms with the losses I suffered last week, but I think it's time to gradually, slowly step back. There was a deal of flashback with my reaction to Sophia's passing; it may sound odd to be so cut up after not being in touch with someone for four years. But by all accounts, this was someone that really touched and affected those she was in touch with. May she swim strong, now out of all pain and time.

NaBloPoMo - day 11

Armistice Day, and it's 100 years ago today since the guns fell silent on the Western Front and beyond. The First World War was a brutal conflict, which claimed millions of life around the world. Around the UK, France, US and other countries, commemorations have taken place. Here in Lewis, there is one more centenary coming up, associated with the First World War: the centenary of the sinking of HMY Iolaire, which claimed the lives of 201 sailors, most of them originating from the island.

Lest we forget.

NaBloPoMo - day 10

Two days late, but I would like to offer some thoughts on internet friendships. I have been active on a social network (of any description) for nearly fifteen years, and have met one or two of the several hundred people that I have been in touch with. My impression matched pretty much what I found on the ground. Whether it be the lady in Cheltenham, England; or the gentleman in Stornoway - or the lady who has now passed away in Berneray. Particularly in the latter instance, I experienced a very strong reaction to her death. Those who read my old blog Atlantic Lines back in 2013 may recall references to Cuddle Castle - and it was nothing more than cuddles. But both Sophia and I enjoyed them, and it creates a bond. It was not possible for me to build up the relationship, if only because we were such vastly different characters.

This week is a very difficult week for me, with not just Sophia passing away (on November 6th), but also Donna Diggins (of J-land) over in Buffalo, NY. She was a friend, someone whose company I enjoyed on-line. Donna succumbed to the effects of cancer on November 4th.

Friday, 9 November 2018

NaBloPoMo - day 09

Kristallnacht. Have the lessons from history been learned? No.

I glance across to Trump's America and can see the spectre of discrimination, victimisation, scape-goating and blame laying rearing its ugly head again. Once more, like in post (WW1) war Germany, problems have been left unaddressed, and a populist leader has stood up to NOT address them. Previous presidents, all the way to Obama, have not properly tackled the issue of immigration - although the USA is built on immigration. Unfettered migration from Latin America has bred resentment, hatred and contempt.

Donald Trump provides the easy solution of the loud mouth. Build a wall. Thought we in Europe had torn down our walls. I don't see one appearing all the way from San Diego to Brownsville, do you? And it won't solve the problem. Targeting a stream of a few thousand migrants, walking all the way from Honduras, El Salvador and Guatemala to the United States, branding them as terrorists, an invasion, is redolent of pre-war Germany. The US army is going to be deployed near the border to stem the tide. A very popular measure.

But there is more wrong with Donald Trump that bears echoes of the Germany of the 1930s. Fake news. It does exist, and I don't need Donald J. Trump to tell me that. The Russians, amongst others, are artmasters at it. But what Mr Trump brands as fake news is actually fact that displeases him and his agenda. He targets the messengers for their message, for exposing the failings in his policies. He seeks to silence the checks and balances that are in place precisely to keep someone like Trump in order. The investigation into Russian collusion, interference with the 2016 presidential election is in jeopardy, following the forced resignation of the Attorney General earlier this week. He was replaced by a Trumpite, critical of the Mueller inquiry.

What I find remarkable is the support that Donald Trump manages to rally around him, wherever he goes. His message resonates with a good section of American society - meaning that a problem exists in American society that is not, or has not, been properly addressed.

Make America great again, was Donald Trump's slogan in 2016.
Putin promises to make Russia great again, after the humiliation of the fall of communism.
Hitler promised to make Germany great again, after being humiliated during the Great War.

I am ending this post with the flame that I have posted on my Kristallnacht commemorations for the last twelve years.

Kristallnacht 1938-2018

It is 80 years ago since the Night of Broken Glass [Kristallnacht]. That night, an organised mob of Nazi forces and sympathisers went on the rampage in towns and cities across Germany, smashing and destroying Jewish-owned property and businesses. It was a foretaste of what was to come during World War II. The extermination of anyone deemed sub-human by the warped mind of Adolf Hitler and his henchmen. Jews topped their league of the unfit, closely followed by gypsies, the mentally ill and many many others. The Reichskristallnacht was a night of infamy, and not just to Germany. Hitler had already been allowed to get away with murder for several years beforehand. In 1936, he occupied the Rhineland which had been ceded to France at the end of the First World War. The League of Nations, the predecessor of the United Nations, cried wolf but had no bite. On 12 March 1938, Nazi forces marched into Austria to join that country to Germany, an event referred to as the Anschluss. Neville Chamberlain flew to Munich to meet with Adolf Hitler on 30 September 1938, returning with the infamous phrase: "Peace for our time". Six weeks later, the Reichskristallnacht took place. Only a few months later, Germany invaded the Sudetenland area of Czecho-Slovakia, and again, nobody moved a finger to stop. In September 1939, Hitler thought he could get away with the invasion of Poland. But this time, it prompted a declaration of war, signalling the outbreak of the Second World War. The lights have gone out in Europe, it was said at the time. The lights in Europe had already been extinguished in 1914, and had not been relit, not even at the end of the First World War. The Versailles Peace Treaty of June 1919 contained all the ingredients for another war, which duly materialised. After the unspeakable atrocities of the Second World War, Germany was divided into four by the victorious allies. The British, French and American sectors became West Germany, whilst the Soviet sector was turned into East Germany, a communist state. Berlin was similarly divided. Until 1961, people from the East fled to the West in droves. A barrier was erected across Berlin in August 1961, later replaced by a high, concrete wall. Similar barriers were put up along the borders between East and West Germany. Anyone trying to flee from East to West was shot on sight, no questions asked. The advent of Mikhail Gorbatchov as leader of the USSR in the 1980s heralded a start of change. And when this wind of change blew across eastern Europe, it blew away all the communist regimes within the space of a few months in 1989.

The Berlin Wall was torn down on 9 November 1989, and you can see the dilemma. Do we remember the Kristallnacht, and not celebrate the reunification of Germany? Do we celebrate the reunification, and ignore the Night of Broken Glass? Maybe the two can be reconciled. The Berliners remember the Kristallnacht in a very low-key but poignant manner. Every year, in the evening of November 9th, candles are left on the doorsteps of houses that were ransacked that night.

The flame, burning at the top of this post, is my candle of remembrance for Kristallnacht.

NaBloPoMo - day 08

I have nothing more to say about Donald Trump. The man manages to plumb ever greater depths, but continues to carry a huge appeal to sections of American society. Why? Because there are problems in the US that previous presidents have failed to address.

That is a signal for danger ahead. Winding the clock back to the 1920s and 1930s, when there were huge problems in post-war Germany. Finding the messiah (undercase intentional) that would solve and dispel all problems involved Adolf Hitler becoming the leader. The German word is Führer, by the way. The best way to avoid solving problems is to find somebody to blame.

Hitler's scapegoat: the Jews.

I'll have more to write about this in tomorrow's posting, for November 9th, the 80th anniversary of the Reichskristallnacht.

Thursday, 8 November 2018

NaBloPoMo - day 07

A day late, but after the emotional posts from the last few days, I'll just share some images of cloudscapes.

PB071398 PB071397 PB071396 PB071393 PB071392 PB071387

Wednesday, 7 November 2018

NaBloPoMo - day 06

I am even more stunned today than I was since Sunday evening. I got word that another of my friends has died. Sophia Dale, formerly of Tigharry in North Uist, latterly living in Berneray.

I met Sophia in 2013, in North Uist. We had been chatting on-line for a couple of weeks, and decided to meet up. Our first meeting went well, I got on famously with her. Sophia was a free spirit, not bound by convention or expectation. Not averse to walking barefoot, dancing along the road and tramping the machairlands near her home in Tigharry. Also, she loved swimming in the sea. She had a beautiful singing voice, fortunately preserved on Soundcloud and through the shows on local radio station An Radio, 105.2FM in Uist. On our first meeting, I went to Lochmaddy, to play the keyboard in Taigh Chearsabhagh in an open-mike event. The second time was for Taigh Ciuil, in the same venue. Circumstances meant that we would not meet again. I met her little cat, Torran, who is now without her master. A neighbour is hopefully able to look after her.

Sophia, I was privileged to meet you, and am sad we will not meet again in this world.
I admired your free spirit.
You are now wholly free, free from the pain that you shared with me.
Mermaid, swim strong and free. 


Sophia in Lochmaddy, March 2013

Torran

Monday, 5 November 2018

NaBloPoMo - day 05

A sombre day, as the community of bloggers that I have been a part of for 13 years lost one of its most prominent members. Donna Diggins, of Buffalo NY (USA), succumbed to cancer yesterday afternoon local time. She had been ill for some time. I have written a personal tribute to Donna on the Silent Keyboards blog, and link to that.

I have never met Donna in person, and that goes for virtually all who were part of J-land (as it was called when on AOL). Yesterday's loss is a strong reminder that you can become quite attached and fond of someone you meet on-line, a phenomenon that I've been familiar with for nearly 15 years. Some people, perhaps blinded by the negative side of on-line connections, ridicule this. I think that's cruel. I have met a number of people in person that I had previously only communicated with via the WWW. My impression was correct in all of these cases. Yes, you miss the non-verbal communication, you just read words and see emojis and images. You don't see people's facial expressions, the inflections of the voice. But that actually does not matter. I have lost a friend. Her family have lost a sister, a mother and an aunt.

May she rest in peace.

Sunday, 4 November 2018

NaBloPoMo - day 04

The gale that has been lashing our coasts since Friday has finally subsided. The ferry has returned, after an absence of two days, bringing replenishments to the local supermarkets. We get bare shelves when the ferry doesn't sail - because everything comes by ferry. Planes are not used for transporting goods.

Last Wednesday saw the return of our regular ferry ship, the MV Loch Seaforth. I like the Seaforth, but find it a little disconcerting that passengers insist on draping themselves across the couches, taking up space where 4 could sit. However, the Minch can be bumpy, so who am I to complain. The previous ferry, MV Isle of Lewis, put in an appearance for 10 days whilst the Seaforth underwent its annual refit in Aberdeen. She is bigger, but tends to slam down on the waves when there is a swell running. When is there ever not a swell running in the Minch. Other relief vessels have include the Clansman, and the Hebrides. In the past, the freight was carried by MV Muirneag fondly (?) remembered by its soubriquet Olympic Flame - she never went out. Muirneag did go out one day, into the teeth of a force 12 hurricane, and ended up 60 miles north of the Butt of Lewis, well on her way to the Faeroes. The crossing on that occasion took 16 hours.


NaBloPoMo - day 03

Past midnight, but here is post 3 in the National Blog Posting Month. It's been a wild day in Stornoway, with the wind not subsiding below force 7. In the night, we had gusts in excess of 70 mph. Oscar is not done with us yet, he'll stay around for Sunday as well.

I attended a commemorative event for a friend of mine who died in October last year. Chrisella Ross was a champion of Gaelic language and culture, focusing strongly on story telling. Whether that be World War II veterans telling of their experiences in the Atlantic convoys, or the writing of television plays. I came to know Chrisella as a result of my activities in the field of local history, when she gave me a lift back to Stornoway from Timsgarry - 35 miles. I found her a beautiful spirit, inclusive and kind. She inspired me, indirectly, to write my own short stories, after I attended an event in local arts centre An Lanntair (The Lantern) on the subject. The event was a discussion hosted by Agnes Rennie, with Chrisella's daughter Mairi and a number of friends and colleagues. There was an audible collective intake of breath when a video was played, showing Chrisella talking in front of a house (her own?) - the way we all knew her in life. One of the images that touched me was one taken about 20 years ago, showing Chrisella with a young child and her own parents in the background. In context, it mutely highlighted the passage of time and the transience of life.

Although I did not know Chrisella Ross all that well, her passing did affect me personally. I am pleased that a proper tribute to her life and achievement has now been made. May she continue to rest in peace.

Friday, 2 November 2018

NaBloPoMo - day 02

A day of a steady decline in the weather, and as I type this at 11.40pm, it is blowing a severe gale. What started out as a beautifully sunny morning very soon deteriorated over time. Was needing to visit someone in the town, who turned out to be away - well, that's my luck, isn't it. Will need to try again at a later time. Helped a friend with a little genealogy using the Ancestry website; if you really want to use that properly, you need a paid subscription. Not everybody is prepared to shell out £11 a month for the privilege, though. Requesting birth, marriage and death certificates also costs money. Here in Lewis, a number of areas have compiled crofting histories, detailing who occupied crofts (leased patches of land) since the 18th century. It shows that families stayed on the same piece of ground for centuries.

Thursday, 1 November 2018

NaBloPoMo - day 01

The National Blog Post Month, a blogpost a day during the month of November. Something to aspire to. Well, here goes.

It was bright and sunny in Stornoway today, until the rain lashed down early this evening. We had a changeover on the ferries, with MV Loch Seaforth back from its annual refit in Aberdeen, and the MV Hebridean Isles departing for her usual run from Kintyre to Islay. The MV Isle of Lewis headed back to Castlebay to take up the run to and from Oban again.

Was saddened to learn that a J-land buddy, Donna, had been transferred to hospice care. Donna suffers from bladder cancer, and treatment has taken its toll. I hope she is comfortable during her stay in hospice, and know that everybody that knows her and cares for her will think of her at this time. Donna is an accomplished tag artist, and this is one of her creations. I have it as my Facebook profile pic for the duration of her stay in hospice.