EXTRAORDINARY
AGM
AGM XXIX-and-a-half will take place at 1100 this upcoming Wednesday 26 October in the cafe at Saltwell Towers, in Saltwell Park, Gateshead.

How extraordinary it turns out to be will very much depend on who turns up!

CONTACT ME
Post comments on this blog or email me:  truckshunters@googlemail.com
310
The bumpkin's inspiration...
In this blogposting…
* Problems in Parliament
* AGM XXIX
* More Caviar Anyone?
* The World:  A Truckshunter Geography
Pray continue…


PROBLEMS IN PARLIAMENT
A recent Freedom of Information disclosure reveals some of the items confiscated by the Metropolitan Police from visitors to the Houses of Parliament between January and July this year.  They include:
* 2 boomerangs
* 1 pair binoculars

* 1 balloon

* 6 bungee cords

* 1 giant tennis ball
* 9 harmonicas
* 10 hip flasks
* 1 magic wand
* 1 can of moth spray
* 2 pairs of nail clippers

* 1 piercing kit

* 5 police helmets (children's)
* 1 plant pot

* 1 tub science putty

* 14 scooters

* 1 skateboard
* 1 sleeping bag
* 1 pair snow shoes

* 1 tent

* 1 plastic thumb

AGM XXIX
There were but three of us at AGM XXIX last Wednesday at Grey’s Monument in Newcastle.  But what the AGM lacked in quantity it more than made up for in quality - because I was joined not only by the redoubtable Hildie but also by the amazing J Arthur Smallpiece, aka Gerry Fenwick (and NOT Gerry Rawlings, the name I’ve been inexplicably using for him).

The three of us managed to hit just the right note of relaxed conviviality for which the Honourable Society of Truckshunters is rightly renowned - this despite the autumnal wind whistling relentlessly up Grey Street direct from the Baltic - the actual Baltic.

It was as hugely enjoyable as any other AGM, proving - as if proof were needed - that all it takes for successful AGMs is goodwill and good humour.

Speaking of which, Gerry was kind enough to bring along another of his poems.  It has a peculiarly melancholy feel about it which - as I suspect he knew perfectly well - suited my circumstances very well.

I love it and reproduce it in its entirety - including Gerry’s preamble - below.

Thanks, Gerry.  And thanks too to Hildie, without whom AGMs would have fizzled out and died long ago.

MORE CAVIAR ANYONE?
AUTHOR’S DISCLAIMER:  As my illustrious predecessor Mr Wm Shakespeare pointed out, in his wordy docudrama Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, fine poetry is wasted on riff-raff – “it pleaseth not the million, ‘tis caviar to the general”.

Sad but true! It’s small wonder, therefore, that my poems routinely provoke flat hostility, undisguised indifference bordering on disdain and unmistakable signs of boredom, except in a few favoured aesthetes lucky enough to be on my mailing-list.

Now read on, but don’t bother to show it to any toe-rags………

                                  
A short poetic effusion entitled:

MORE CAVIAR ANYONE?                                                  
by
J. Arthur Smallpiece, Romantic Poet and Man of Some Consequence.
In which the Poet Garners Wisdom from a Contemplative old Codger


I met a bumpkin on a bench, set by the beck-side’s edge,
Where loose-limbed lovers tickle trout and water wagtails fledge.
His beard was flecked with spiders’ webs and little bits of straw
And on his face he bore the scars of ninety years or more.
Hence wispy hairs adorned his ears, each finer than a thread
As white and weightless as the clouds that floated overhead.∗

Gorse grew and blossomed all around - the hills were overrun;
A million specks of glowing gold rejoicing in the sun!
Yet still he wore a mournful look, as if he sensed his doom,
And as he gazed upon the ground he seemed engulfed in gloom.
Though once he smiled and showed to me his time-discoloured teeth −
As if some tiny trace of joy had broken through his grief.

He looked at me with listless eyes and shook his harmless head.
Then, leaning downcast on his crook he sadly sighed and said:

             “Despite life’s senseless waste of time
             In one way I was blessed –
             Of all the things down here on earth,
             I loved the moon the best.
             When she was full or waxing fat,
             I craved her sunny beams,∗∗
             They took away this dreadful world,
             And left me with my dreams.”

∗It is an interesting insight into the difference between the poetic and scientific casts of mind to note that a large cumulus cloud weighs much the same as 90 elephants.                                                                                                                                                                              
∗∗As the moon shines by reflected sunlight, this is not as daft as it first seems.                                                     
                        
 This work is the intellectual property of J. Arthur Smallpiece. Please bin it with care respect and sensitivity. Thank you!

Psst! Fancy another poem? Visit: www. jarthursmallpiece.wordpress.com


THE WORLD:  A TRUCKSHUNTER GEOGRAPHY
Having already done the dirty on Afghanistan and Albania (see postings 298 and 305), it’s now time to turn our beady eyes to North Africa - to Algeria.

So this is your mission….

To investigate, research and otherwise unearth as many interesting facts about Algeria as you can over the next few days.  When it appears, our survey will, of course, include the first few words of Algeria’s National Anthem and the numbers from one to ten - both of which are staples of the type.

But if you can dig up some obscure, well-I-never, facts about it then you will get a metaphorical pat on the back worth even more than the real thing.  What, for example, is at Number One in the Algerian charts at the moment?  What are its natives’ favourite ways of insulting each other?

Here’s a bit of Algerian trivia to start you off….

70% of its lawyers are women.  (I’m not sure if this is an indication of the country’s comparative liberality or of the litigousness of its women…)

Send your facts to me via email - address below.

CONTACT ME
Post comments on this blog or email me:  truckshunters@googlemail.com


309
In this blogposting…
* AGM XXIX
* A Personal Message

AGM XXIX
Our next AGM will take place at 1100 this upcoming Wednesday, 19 October at Grey’s Monument in Newcastle - or rather outside Pret a Manger nearby!

I hope you can make it.

A PERSONAL MESSAGE
Over the last two weeks or so, I’ve received a great many messages from from you wonderful truckshunters.  You have left Comments on the blog itself; you have txted me, emailed me, telephoned me and sent me many cards and letters.

I don’t know how to even begin to thank you all.  I hungrily soaked up the lovely words of sympathy and understanding that you sent me and passed them on to my family - especially to my brother Barry and Jean, his wife.

Your loving and gentle messages served as points of welcome light in the dark tunnel we were walking through and I will always be grateful to the great many of you who took the time and trouble to contact me.

Just as countless millions of other sons and daughters have had to do, so must I begin to try and knit together a new kind of life without the extraordinary and very special lady I was always proud to call my Mam.  This new path is unfamiliar to me and I know it will take me some time to get used to it.

I’d be very happy for you to keep me company along the way.

CONTACT ME
Post comments on this blog or email me:  truckshunters@googlemail.com
308
A rather over-romantic portrait of Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine
In this blogposting…
* Names
* Stranger Than Fiction
* AGM XXIX
Proceed with caution...


NAMES
I recently idled away an hour or so looking up the derivations of the names of some of the people I know.  The results, though trivial in the extreme, were nevertheless interesting - especially to a logophile like me.

STUART
My real forename is derived from sty-ward, the ‘pig-keeper’.  Poetic justice gone mad.

Apparently, it only became popular as a given name in the 19th century, when it appealed to romantic Victorians because of the Stuart royal family, which produced several kings and queens of Scotland and Britain between the 14th and 18th centuries.

HILDA
This started out as a short form of names containing the Germanic element hild, ‘battle.  No comment. It was used for both Old English and continental Germanic names.

Saint Hilda was a celebrated 7th-century English saint and abbess who began her spotless life at Hartlepool and ended it not far away at Whitby.

The name became rare in England during the later Middle Ages, but was revived in the 19th century.

SIDNEY
There’s some disagreement about this name, unsurprisingly.

Some experts think it was originally derived from various place names in England meaning ‘wide island’ - a likely story.

Others have suggested that it comes from the name of a town in Normandy called Saint Denis (the patron saint of France). 

In either case, it was first used as a given name in honour of executed politician Algernon Sidney (1622-1683).  Another notable bearer of the surname was the poet and statesman Sir Philip Sidney (1554-1586).

LINDA
Originally a medieval short form of Germanic names containing the element linde, ‘soft, tender’.  Again - no comment.

It also coincides with the Spanish word linda meaning ‘beautiful’.

KEITH
This Scottish name was originally derived from a place name, itself probably derived from British cet, ‘wood’ - although the linguistic link isn’t obvious to me.  Keith occurs in quite a few Scottish place-names, like Dalkeith - ‘valley with a wood’.

It was the surname of a long line of Scottish earls and has been used as a popular given name since the 19th century.

NEVILLE
This is an easy one.  Derived directly from a Norman French place-name meaning ‘new town’ - neuf-ville.

ADA
This is, of course, the short familiar form of Adelaide and other names beginning with the same sound.

It’s been popular since the mid-19th century, when it was borne by Augusta Ada King (1815-1852), the Countess of Lovelace (known as Ada Lovelace), a daughter of Lord Byron. Interestingly, she was an assistant to Charles Babbage, the inventor of an early mechanical computer.

VIVIENNE
Hereby hangs a tale.

This is the feminine form of Vivianus.  Who he?  Keep reading.

Saint Vivianus (also known as Bibiana) was a either a Roman saint and martyr of the 4th century or a French bishop who provided protection during the Visigoth invasion of the 5th century. It apparently means ‘living, alive’, which seems inappropriate, considering.

It was used occasionally as an English (masculine) name from the Middle Ages but it’s only in modern times that it’s been adopted as a feminine name, too.

ELLIE
We’re back to France again for this familiar, shortened form of Eleanor.

It comes from the Provençal name Aliénor and, unusually, we know exactly who first bore the name - Eleanor of Aquitaine - the queen of Louis VII, king of France, and later of Henry II, king of England.

She was originally named Aenor, after her mother, but was called by the Provençal phrase alia Aenor, ‘the other Aenor’, in order to distinguish her from her parent.

Eleanor has been a hugely popular name ever since the Middle Ages, largely due to the fame of the original.  Indeed, two queens from the following century had the same name:  Eleanor of Provence, the wife of Henry III, and Eleanor of Castile, the wife of Edward I.

So now you know.  I hope you appreciate all the effort that’s gone into this.

STRANGER THAN FICTION
Just when we think we’ve got the hang of it, the world comes up with something so staggeringly unbelievable that we almost have to go back to square one and re-think our view of the planet.

In a tiny corner of western Poland, for example, there’s a very strange forest indeed.

Hidden deep in what is otherwise a fairly unremarkable - not to say predictable - woodland of pines and firs and larches and stuff like that lies a mysterious copse which has puzzled and amused both local people and dendrologists for over 70 years. 

Go for a tramp in this wood (no jokes, please) and you’ll discover a clutch of about 400 pine trees growing with a 90-degree bend at the base of their trunks.  As if that weren’t enough to stop you in your tracks, keen observation will show that, without exception, they are all bent toward the north.

The area is known as the Crooked Forest, for fairly obvious reasons, and to save you the trouble of actually having to go to Poland to verify this unlikely tale, I append a picture of the trees in question.  Look at it and gasp.
The real mystery, however, is not that they grow in such an unnatural - though not entirely unpleasant - way, but why.  It’s known that the trees were planted around 1930 and that they managed to grow normally (in that staunchly upright way that trees have) for between seven and ten years.

But then something inexplicable happened.  The tree-farmers who were caring for them applied some sort of mechanical weight (or so it’s thought) to the bases of their nascent trunks with the result you see in the picture. 

Exactly why they did this is unknown.  Nobody knows what possible use tree trunks of this shape could possibly have or what advantage the foresters were hoping to gain.

Perhaps they did it just for fun.  If only someone had asked.

AGM XXIX
Our next AGM will take place at 1100 on Wednesday 19 October. 

If you have any suggestions for venues, get in touch in any of the many useful ways available to you.

Wherever it takes place, come prepared to plank.

CONTACT ME
Post comments on this blog or email me:  truckshunters@googlemail.com