Tag: Church House Inn

A future apocalypse?

How many of us really, truly care about the future?

If you sense a heartfelt plea in my sub-heading then you will not be wrong.

What has happened to our instincts for our survival?

What strikes me as so tragic is that if I asked you to guess the topic of today’s post before you read on, the odds are that you would chose from any number of subjects that reveal a society hell-bent on self-extinction!

OK, let me get to the point.

A little over 10 days ago I republished a George Monbiot essay that spoke about the madness of chicken production in the UK. Mr. Monbiot’s essay was called Fowl Deeds and was within my post called We are what we eat!

Well George Monbiot has just published a sequel to Fowl Deeds that I am going to republish in this place tomorrow.

But what I am going to offer for today, as a prelude to tomorrow’s post, is a YouTube video of a BBC Panorama program that was screened earlier on in May. The program was called Antibiotic Apocalypse and was about the threat of increasing resistance to modern Antibiotics.

Why does this make such an important prelude?

Because as you will see when you watch the Panorama program much of our ‘factory’ food comes from animals that are fed antibiotics!

How to close?

All that comes to mind is a wonderful throwaway remark from a old boy, village resident, when supping a pint of bitter in The Church House Inn; what used to be my local pub in my home village of Harberton, Devon.  This is what he said:

All the world’s a little queer except thee and me, and I ha’ me doubts about thee!

Interior of The Church House Inn, Harberton, Devon.

Indeed, all the world is more than a ‘little queer’!

The loss of a lovely Uncle

Please indulge me with this purely personal reflection.

My Uncle Peter died in his sleep at 1.30am UK time on Monday, the 21st May, 2012.  He was 91 and had been suffering from declining health for a while.

As my parting gift from across the seas, I just wanted to record the great inspiration that he was to both me and my son, Alex.

Peter was a great gliding fan (sailplane in American speak!).  He must have started gliding not many years after the end of the war in 1945.  Anyway, when I was a young lad, back in the mists of time, my Uncle Peter took me for a glider flight.  That left a memory in me that lay dormant for many years until the late 1970s when a colleague, Roger Davis, introduced me to the Rattlesden Gliding Club and that started a 25-year interest in gliding and later power flying.

My son, Alex, also when he was a young boy was taken up for his first flight in a glider by Uncle Peter and later flew with me many times both in gliders and power aircraft.  Today he is a Senior Captain with a British airline.

So, dear Uncle Peter, what an aviation inspiration you have been for two generations.

Uncle Peter and two generations of pilots.

As it happens, 1.30 am UK time on Monday the 21st was 5.30pm Arizonan time on Sunday the 20th.  At that very moment, well 5.26pm to be precise, Jean and I were watching the solar eclipse and I took the photograph below of what was the partial eclipse here in Payson.

Partial solar eclipse partly hidden by the pine trees.

A tribute to a wonderful family man with a great sense of humour.