Opened by the Queen, closed to the public!...

Today was the official opening of the new war memorial in the national memorial arboretum. This huge circle of Portland stone has the names of the fallen carved on its inner edge. It is set on a huge mound, and has a slot specially aligned so at 11 o'clock on the 11th day of the 11 month, a shaft of sunlight will illuminate a statue of servicemen holding aloft a fallen comrade. The Queen and other dignitaries were on hand to perform the opening ceremony. Security was tight, and I had to cut through the back lanes in order to avoid the road closures.

You've never seen so many police, vans, cameras, motorbikes, plainclothes. All the local farms were being used as temporary bases for security personnel.

Still, I managed to find my way to the outskirts of the arboretum where the Queens entourage would arrive by car. As you can see I have no pictures, but you know what she looks like...big hat, nice car... I have no love for the Royal family; bunch of freeloading gits!

The general public weren't allowed in. I tried to explain that I wasn't a member of the public and never have been, but they weren't having any of it. Instead I found a little known car park by the nature reserve, that the royal security had adopted as their own. I parked alongside a black supercharged Range Rover that a man in a flack jacket with a gun was sat in monitoring the wireless cameras placed on the lampposts....if my car wasn't safe there it wasn't safe anywhere.
After a bit of wandering around looking for a good site overlooking the events, I came across a large van inhabited by some men in black with machine guns. I asked "Is there anywhere I can see the Queen and get a good shot?" As the words left my mouth, I realised they had been poorly chosen. Any way, I repacked my rucksack following the search and went on my way.

The closest I could get was across the lake in the nature reserve. The action was about 1/4 of a mile away, so I couldn't see much, but here there a some sailor chappies and a TV crew doing an interview.


The Queen sensibly kept out of sight, but did push her husband out into sniper range....

My main reason to be there was to watch the military flypasts. There was promise of a visit from the last Vulcan bomber still to fly. Vulcans are huge delta wing planes with an engine note that jibbles with your innards! It didn't show.....but there were Tornados, Typhoons etc.

Anticipating not being able to gain entry, I took some photos a little earlier so that you lot could see inside.

The National Memorial Arboretum is a 150 acre site with 50,000 trees set within the National Forest. The National Forest is a plan to recover Britain with trees once more. It's only 33,000 acres and so far they've only planted 7 million trees, but it's a good start and there are plans for another 20 million in the next 30 years.

The above statue is, "Shot at Dawn". During World War 1 many soldiers were shot for 'cowardice' or 'desertion' when often they were suffering from post traumatic stress and really had no control over their actions. Each of the posts has the name of a soldier executed by firing squad.

One of my favourite, and the first to be erected on the site is the polar bear representing the 49th West Riding Division.

I love the detail on this carving.

Memorial to maritime gunners.

The RNLI (Royal National Lifeboat Association), a non government, volunteer based organisation that has saved countless lives around the coast.

One of the most stark and poignant is the open gate of a concentration camp...

A yikecycle made for who?.....

It was my brothers birthday, and what did he want? A uni-cycle! Of course not just an ordinary unicycle.... a mountain unicycle. Cos as if it's not difficult enough to master the art of one wheeled perambulations, what you really need is an extra large wheel to make things even more unstable!

Initial attempts required some additional support. Jenny isn't actually 3 foot tall.

It's a little known fact that the unicycle was invented in response to the steel shortage crisis in 1907. Workers desperately required economical transport to the coal mines of south Wales. The unicycle was invented by a local entrepreneur, who would recycle pram wheels to make four cycles per pram. ' Wheely Jones' became famous in the valleys of Wales and his statue can be seen in the 'Uyp-Y-Pant' museum of transport.

My brother quickly developed a style of his own...here we see 'The Ballerina'.

The 'Fiddler on the Roof'....

And now being really ambitious, he demonstrates some 'semaphore'.

Jennys attempts were tentative...

...but she soon proved to have a natural aptitude.

Learning from past experiences, I donned appropriate safety gear.

To my cost, I later discovered that it was the lower regions that required protection and developed a nasty case of 'girlfriends lap'!!!

My Bionic leg....

When they put the metalwork in my leg I had high hopes. At last, a bionic leg, a childhood dream. As a kid I'd run around the garden pretending to be the '6 million dollar man' and now I had my very own modifications! I took this picture at the hospital (yes, the video camera goes with me everywhere) when, after a month I had the cast removed so that they could 're-align' my foot. A technical adjustment I thought.....No, one nurse held me in the chair while a doctor used both hands and some force to position things 'just right' as he put it, and then back in a cast for another month..Yippeeee!
Still, it would all be worth it when it got better and I would be able to run at 60mph (or maybe hop at 45mph) just like my hero. WHAT a disappointment! Nothing. No special abilities, couldn't hop over buildings or anything. In fact, it seems worse than the original. It feels cold inside during winter and when I tap my foot to music it performs its own percussion section.

To top it, the other week I couldn't figure out why my compass fluctuated every time I sat down with it. Blow me down, it's my bionic ankle. I don't know how it's got magnetised, maybe I should keep away from the microwave. 4 degrees out it shows on the compass, so now when I'm navigating not only do I have to compensate for the dickey leg, I have to take the earths magnetic field being out of skew as well. Maybe the two will cancel each other out.

The electronic compass doesn't misbehave, I don't think it's as sensitive.

We need more tests....

Right, a resistivity test. I have to do this properly, so, I need the 'subject' leg, a 'comparison' leg, and a 'control' leg. Oh, bugger, I've run out of legs... OK for the interest of thoroughness, Max the cat is now the 'control' leg.

The results aren't conclusive. 'Subject' and 'comparison' legs show similar readings, either these are highly conductive, or cats are very resistive...OOow! Yes, the cat seems to be getting very resistive now.

At last. After exhaustive research, I've discovered my bionic legs hidden capability......

If I moisten the end of this electrical lead and securely duct tape it into place and then attach the other end to my scanner.....

..... I can pick up the local airport!

Big Brother IS watching you (but doesn't give a damn)

4.2 million CCTV cameras and counting in the UK. That's 1 for every 14 people. On average you are captured over 300 times a day. George Orwell warned us of this in his creation "Nineteen Eightyfour". He lived at Flat 27b Canonbury Square, London. Within 200 yards of his flat there are now 32 CCTV cameras...Big Brother is truly here.
In the spirit of research, I decided to see how many cameras and how many times I was filmed on a short few minute walk around my immediate neighbourhood.

First off, the local station. A small station with reasonable sized car park for commuters to 'park and ride' in a quiet suburb of a small town. How many cameras would you expect?

What a lovely welcome! Do you feel safer? Why the need for spikes?

On the walkway and the platform, more 'prettified' cameras. Remember this count doesn't include the two more cameras in the ticket office, just the ones encountered as you walk out in public areas.

You might think your car is safer parked in such a well watched place, but of an evening it was left up to me to tackle some teenagers running across vehicle rooves. They ran off when they saw me in the car, after an angrily executed tyre squealing J-turn and a short chase I caught them. The police were phoned but never turned up, not a peep out of any transport police that should have been dispatched by the camera operators. What was I meant to do? I had to let them go. This might lead you to believe that the cameras aren't being watched, but no. Park with one of your wheels on the white line and a voice booms out from the top of a mast that you are not complying with car park regulations!!!!!!

On your exit, an extra camera scans the back of your head...just in case.

So, how many cameras to guard the ever so dangerous station....24!

The tally increases as I amble up the road. One camera filming the road outside offices. One filming you from the Chinese takeaway. 14 watch you as you pass the petrol station. There are pinhole cameras mounted in the pumps themselves now. 4 in the small public car park. 3 follow you as you walk by the library. 3 more point across the road at you from a small electronics manufacturer.

Homeward bound a police car passes, adding another 3 (1 forward facing, 1 to the rear and 1 automatic number plate recognition ).

The final total on my short walk?...Fifty three! This doesn't include any residential cameras or those keeping tabs on you in shops etc. This is not the middle of a city.

Do these cameras serve their purpose? I don't think so. Last week a neighbour was robbed, their car stolen, that car was then used in a break in of the pub across the road. The perpetrators were neither identified or apprehended. In April I had to chase thieves (posted as 'Men in black' gone bad...(April)), no images available on video. What's the point of these cameras? It is 1984, it's just running late....

A cunning plan.....

It wasn't much of a summer. We had a warm blip in spring, then it rained for months, then, summer...2 whole days! Wad yer mean you missed it?!
All this topsy turvy global warming malarkey seems to have got Mother Nature a little confused. The Ceanothus is in flower again. It's meant to flower in spring, and it did, and then again in summer and then again now!

The Magnolia tree, one of the first signs of spring but it's flowering for the second time.

Not only this but the bulbs are coming up, what's going on?

Of course there are some signs of autumn, the leaves are falling, the squirrels are gathering nuts....

...but also I've seen some birds beginning nests.

Personally I'm not looking forward to the cold, dark damp days of winter. Mother Nature is confused....I have a cunning plan!.....

If we can convince Mother Nature that winters been and gone, we can get our lost summer back. I've already started by placing this old diary, along with subtle hint in a prominent place in the garden. This will plant the seed of doubt in Mother Natures mind.

As I mentioned, some of the bulbs are already showing themselves. All they need is some help and encouragement. A short length of elastic tied around them and up over a branch should do the trick.

I've collected some of the not so bad leaves, all we need to do now is.....

....peg them back on. Come on all you summer lovers from the northern hemisphere, don't fail me now, we can still turn this thing around........

Hill and dale, a riders tale.....

Today I decided that I needed a little exercise. I've been taking it easy since my last kayak trip and unfortunately my shoulder still hurts, so it will have to be a bike ride instead..... Heading out from Lichfield, I dipped down some favourite lanes towards Cannock Chase. This is the old gatehouse to Beaudesert Hall which now lies in ruins. Adjacent to it is a woodland that once was a daffodil farm, supplying flowers to the Victorians of Birmingham. I turned into Horsey Lane, aptly named as there is stable after stable, probably due to the good riding to be had in the Chase. Down here is a gorgeous Leopard Appaloosa, kindly identified to me by Secret Agent (http://www.somethingsecretive.blogspot.com/).

With 'teapot' Micra it's sometimes difficult to know whether I should be putting the bike on the car or popping the car on the back of the bike. Anyway, with the two vehicles separated I set off. I started from the 'German Cemetery' area of the Chase. This expanse of land abounds of tales of strange animals. Sightings of big cat, werewolves and underground dwellers rising from the many abandoned mine shafts! I've never seen anything myself, even when I've been here at night watching deer but, over towards 'Dick Slees cave' you often come across dismembered deer carcasses which I never see anywhere else in the Chase. For the latest updates on any reports it's well worth checking out 'The Debris Field' by Lesley (http://thedebrisfield.blogspot.com/).

The first valley is relatively easy, lots of footpaths and tracks to follow. My need for directness always lands me in trouble and, as I climbed higher I cut across country breaking my way through the bracken. It was hard going as my bike picked up an increasing amount of scrim.

As I climbed my way slowly out of the second valley, passing the old ruined stone hunting lodge, I bordered the lands of Beaudesert hall. Once owned by the Marquis of Anglesey, he spent his ill gotten gains on fantastic gardens with huge waterfalls, pools and this private amphitheatre set high up on the hillside. By all accounts the Marquis was a greedy bastard! When the ancient managed deciduous woodlands of Cannock Chase came into his possession, his first act was to chop it all down and sell the timber for profit. Left with a devastated wasteland he decided to mine it for coal. After the Great Wars the area was replanted with coniferous but it is a shadow of what it once was.

Rising out of the valley I approached my chosen destination, Castle Ring. This is an Iron Age hill fort thought to be created over 2000 years ago and thought to occupied by the Celtic Cornovii tribe in AD50. The circular site covers 7.75ha and has series of banks and ditches. Today only 4 metres but would have been substantially higher and topped with a robust wooden pallastrade.

It's difficult to judge the scale, but on the top left of the picture you can see how small the adult dressed in white is.

The interior is deserted apart from a few stone outlines, these are the remains of medieval hunting lodges.

The views are normally great from up here, today though it was overcast. Time for coffee.






The way back to the car was marked by the telecommunications tower. It was only 5miles away, but all the rough ground and ups and downs made it feel much further. With my tired legs wobbling it suddenly seemed along way away.

A straight line was the shortest route so I took a compass reading so that when I was down in the trees I could still head the right way. This was odd, when I stood up the compass was fine, but if I crouched down it would fluctuate. It didn't matter where I was it did the same. I'll have to see if it does the same at home!

The direct route took me crashing through undergrowth, bouncing over tree stumps, in a steep downhill roller coaster ride. A funny smell... sort of like Rice pudding..burnt Rice pudding. A familiar odour, now where had I smelt that before?... Ahh, yes it was when I overheated the clutch on my old Austin Maxi. The lever for the front brake suddenly went floppy. The front pad had disintegrated and I was accelerating. The back brake alone wasn't cutting it, the rear wheel locked but I wasn't slowing. It felt like the scene from Star Wars where the 'speeder bikes' were racing through the dense woodland. Splash, as I went through a boggy patch, Then it happened, mud right in my eye. My depth perception gone, the ride took on a video game quality. Just as I was considering my predicament, another clod went in my other eye, crap! Desperately trying to remember the layout of the path ahead there was a jolt and the bike left the ground. I braced for the impact that never came, instead I trundled to a gentle halt on a gentle upward slope. I was alive, blind, but alive! Forcing my gritty eyes open I realised that I was next to the big old oak, an old friend and landmark. This hulk of a tree was one of the few survivors from the Marquise's rein of terror. I took it easy the rest of the way to the car, the disc brake making odd tinkling noises as it slowly cooled. Only 11 miles on the clock but I was knackered and ready for tea.