R.I.P Sir Bobby

 Things will be a bit quiet around the weekend online as I'll be away for Halloween and would would be Monday's blog may be late because of it but there's only one thing really on my mind today.

Football was the main thing for me and my pals in juniors and at high school, playing during breaks, following Saturday's matches (and it was nearly all played then or Sunday) and talking about results which we followed intently.

It didn't matter who you supported in this area it was Port Vale or Stoke City although families that had moved from elsewhere supported their teams like Sunderland and I now as then supported Wolves, we had the greatest of respects for one man (mon in my dialect).

Sir Bobby Charlton was a amazing player, playing for Manchester United before he got involved more in running the club and also was a member of that marvellous England Team of 1966 that won the World Cup at Wembley against the then West Germany.

He was a supremely decent, caring man who put a lot back into the game even though he was one of the lucky ones to survive the tragedy of the Munich Aircrash of 1958, which my late mother and ardent Man U fan remembered so well as the sad news went around the factory she worked at here in Staffordshire, dealing with the trauma of that but getting back into the game.

Aged some eighty-six year, he died on Saturday and believe me all of us footie fan's will miss him.

R.I.P. Sir Bobby.

Everything makes sense

Hello there!

In a week that included the sixty-fifth anniversary of Blue Peter, more of which can be found on Friday's blog things just seemed to be going more back in time.

I'd openly admit to feeling very much to feeling like playing with a teddy bear with imaginary adventures just flowing in real time as much as needing to hug him whenever anything left me scared or uncomfortable and things as mentioned last week do right now.

It's also been quite a bit cooler this last few days which means I've needed to put a jumper or sweatshirt on even in the house as cool air makes and appearence never mind when it comes to going out and the dufflecoat came of its spot on the coat rack.

Just imagine it, you are in your grey short trousers and knee socks with your dufflecoat on, gloves in pocket outside in temperatures of only three degrees playing.

You're still very much that little boy and that's so right for you.

Incidents, anxiety and grief

Today I've been feeling upset following the weekend's reports of how Hamas the terrorist group backed by Iran launched an attack on Israel, left over 250 people at a music festival dead, took women and children hostage and fired rockets into appartments.

Understandably such action brought swift retribution which itself resulted in over 550 deaths and inevitably hits civilians who only wish to go out to shop, school and work.

Forget the adult talk about motives and justifications although from my dorm chair I cannot  begin to imagine how you can justify killing so many people incuding children and of injuring others.

On top of high inflation, strikes and protests this take my mind back to 1973/4 and the Arab-Isreali War following the terror at the Munich Olympic Games the year before.

I remember only too well how my world fell in during the period shops, clubs and places of entertainment were targeted grim picture after grim picture of bombed out buildings, injured people and seeing bodies carried out.

I was ten at the time, loving to play out, play with my toys and read comics but then the big newspapers kept coming through the door with the latest bombing across its front pages, the hourly headlines on the radio and shocking footage on tv.

Its relentlessness didn't just make me nervous, I started to worry all the time my folks or my dad alone cos he travelled a lot in his work when I stay with with my grandma and grandpa worried sick if they were coming back when you heard something happened. My world no longer appeared safe.

Tonight I feel very numb about this incident, very shaken and concerned for those who today who are of a similar age to how I was and just how for some what was planned to be a weeking of partying and fun turned in a nightmare.

There is injustice and at times deep frustration at the speed of progress in resolving it but these kinds of action solve nothing and only serve to leave people in misery.

Pictures and reflections

As I type this I'm not feeling too great really best described as a gluey inflated head that feels that pressurized it's about to burst and "funny" tasting mouth.

I've a fair idea of what sort of thing this is so it's going to be topping up the anti oxidants, vitamins and isolate for a period until it's gone.

There are a number of things to talk about this week, one of which is really around photograph usage at our forum which sometimes brings issues either of someone being more into one detail in the picture - let's say school uniform - that they ignore context which might be corporal punishment which as many of our behinds know was very much alive and well in our day is something that not just being banned in schools today often is seen as child unfriendly by hosts (and potentially abuse).

The other is more the deligent sort of person who wishes to know "where the land lies", issues around copyright, control of images where schools and others may say "only for our site and nowhere else" and so on.

We've put up pinned thread to cover that which should help.

When it comes to my blogs generally I keep with respecting an organizations wishes and provided the content isn't  problematic then I use things that are public domain although that doesn't guarantee you may hear someone may say "but that's our picture, take it down" or mean an image may of been obtained through harrassment and for some things text may be included for context when it comes to looking at parts of past school life and an illustration may help.

That usually works here.

The other is as the days get shorter and you start to notice autumn is creeping in with its soft sunlight and colourful displays being about, your mind goes back to when you climbed trees and collected your Horse Chestnuts for soaking in vinagar for playing Conkers with your mates.

You look at that reflection, it may be a shadow on the grass or especially a reflection in window you are passing and you wonder "Who's that boy?" then you realize actually it is you.

In your shortened grey short trousers and given the rain the last few days your red waterproof coat the past is the present at least mentally even if it is 2023 rather than 1973 with mind and presentation as one.

To go from eleven inside legs that on me were just on the upper third of the knee standing tall to three, decent and an absolute deadringer for exposing as much as was back in the seventies has been a journey over the years.

We've found the right length of short trousers for this adult little boy.