Green and Blue

I've mentioned before that Cottingham has a fair few splendid trees so I thought I'd post some again because they are still splendid and other things goings-on in the world are somewhat less interesting. This grand old specimen you've seen before but that was in its winter attire; it's a near neighbour of that red beech I posted the other day.

Sweet Williams

Picture by Margot K Juby

Round the corner from the Duke of Cumberland sits this quietly unassuming public house named officially as the  King William the Fourth; a mouthful for anyone so known universally as the King Billy. Now I've only just found that the William referred to here was the fourth, no-body remembers Billy IV. Everyone knows Will I (the Conqueror or Billy the Bastard, 1066 and all that, a good thing), Willy II (aka Rufus, died (murdered?) while hunting in the New Forest) and then our Glorious King William the Third ( the King Billy; the great deliverer, who gave us our freedom, religion and laws) but William the Fourth who he, when all the dust is settled? As Margot succinctly put it  "He's the Gordon Brown of Kings"; poor sod, forgotten by all save the sots of Cottingham. 

... and the fading flowers are, of course, Sweet Williams, not, as some north of the imaginary border, call them Stinking Billies (ragwort actually) and besides the Stinking Billy in that case was William, Duke of Cumberland (Butcher Cumberland to some who knew him well enough to suffer) and, as I say, he lives round the corner.

William is such a sweet name, dontcha think?

The Duke of Cumberland

Margot was saying, just the other day, that the sign on the Duke of Cumberland in Cottingham was looking a bit faded and unreadable. Well that is no longer the case with this fine sign letting the world know what's what. A few other things like a new doorway and a fresh coat of paint, have seen the old place transformed after a brief closure. The place is due to re-open today with new management, (actually old management returning) so good luck to them.

Thursday's Crow

When that I was and a little tiny boy, back in the day, crows, by which I mean carrion crows, did not much venture into towns, least not the towns I lived in. You'd see rooks aplenty, with their bare faces and triangular beaks and noisy rookeries, but a big old black crow was a rare sight and they were shy scaredy beasts. Now it's the other way round; the rooks have become almost entirely rural (OK Cottingham village has one or two but you get my drift) while the town centre and suburbs (there's a pair nesting in next door's tree) are pretty good places to see these fine snappers-up of unconsidered trifles, hobbing and bobbing as if they owned the world which they may well do.  

Ok it's another crow, could have been worse I haven't posted the maritime museum for a while.

Later today I shall be going to vote in the EU Parliamentary elections but as the results won't be known until Sunday, lest the UK result influence the rest of the EU (fat chance!) I'll post about that later if at all ...

The weekend in black and white is fast approaching.

The Tradesman's Entrance

This post is just an excuse to show again a favourite tree in Cottingham. (It's been seven or more years so you won't remember.) It sits at the junction of Snuff Mill Lane and Newgate Street in the grounds of what is now a care home but originally must have belonged to someone with higher than average income shall we say. It's splendid all year round but in spring the red leaves are just superb.

The Old Grey Mare

What can I say about this pub that's right outside the entrance to the university? Well first off, when I came to Hull it was not a pub at all but a hotel, the Newland Park Hotel, indeed I spent one night there before being interviewed for a job at the Uni. There was bar then, the size of a small front parlour with three or four armchairs, all very cosy. Margot informs me that members of staff at the Uni would go there to hide from students ... Now the bar or bars extend across the whole ground floor.

Anyway I got the job and worked there (if that is the word) for a few months. One morning on my way in I witnessed a nasty accident on Cottingham Road close by this spot, a young woman was hit by a speeding van ... all very nasty. 

So then some years later I read a really badly written book by Peter James, I think it was called Possession or some such, about well, ghostly possession if you will. Thankfully I've forgotten most of the ridiculous plot, what there was of it, except the part where someone gets run over right outside this building by a speeding lorry if I'm not being too fanciful. 

So nowadays, I'm always very careful when crossing Cottingham Road ...

Here's a quite gratuitous photo of Cottingham Road, looks kind of innocuous don't it?

Big Hidden Treasures

When they came to build on the farm known as West Bulls just to the west of the Hull/Cottingham boundary they arranged to leave a triangular patch of land about 500 sq yards between the houses to allow for service roads or ten foots as they are known in these parts. In so doing they left behind a pair  trees one much older than the other. I think they are beech trees but don't rely on me. Old maps from 1830s show a big tree at this position, the girth of the larger tree puts it at over three hundred years old ... And for the last ninety years or so they continued to grow, out of sight out of mind, giving home to countless generations of crows until one day not so very long ago some stupid oik(s) with a box of matches and no sense of the fine things in life set a fire to the younger of the pair doing considerable damage to the base. That tree was due to be cut down last year but somehow it has survived and is now putting out new leaves into the chilly April air. If this had been in Hull (which it ain't by a few yards) it would have been long gone. We'll see what East Riding of Yorkshire Council do about it. The trees are according to ERYC under tree protection orders.

Warped

If anyone bangs on about intelligent design being the way of the world just ask how the apex of the alleged Deity's plans, the most intelligent species on the planet can be brought low by something 80-120 nanometers in size. And what part that horrid little virion plays in any vast eternal plan? But that's enough theodicy for now. So in case you haven't guessed I've had and still have to some extent a version of influenza: could be the deadly Australian or the ever-so-polite Japanese or the entente filled French well whatever it was it was an absolute bugger. The past week has been one long semi-concious blur spent under a duvet surviving on soup, tea and easy-peel satsumas oh and regular doses of Paracetamol. Grrrrrr.

Today's picture is a reflection I caught at Cottingham station. If, like me, you see a sort of face in this image it's not a sign of warped mentality but of a "well wired brain" according to the Daily Mail. Pareidolia is, it appears, a good thing though I fail to see its place in intelligent design. If you don't see a face, of course, it means you have an even better wired brain, however if you regularly read and take the Daily Mail seriously I can't comment on your wiring ...

Anyhow back to the duvet and a cup of life saving tea ...

The Weekend Reflections are here.

Woodbine Cottages

This little terrace of houses is on Endyke Lane in Cottingham. Endyke Lane (with a y) is not to be confused with Endike Lane (with an i) in Hull though the latter is an extension of the former. Looking at old maps it seems that the old name was Endike Lane and the Cottingham end only became Endyke after Hull built the North Hull Estate in the late 1920's. I wonder if this was not some desire on Cottingham's part to distinguish itself from the council house plebs down the road. So now you know the y of it...

Old Chestnuts

It's that time of year when the Horse Chestnut trees send forth their floral delights. These contrasting specimens are on the corner of Newland Avenue and Cottingham Road but you can find them spread all over town. Only the white ones produce conkers of any usable size. For some unfathomable reason these are sometimes known as Buckeyes in America ... there's even a fetid buckeye which sounds truly delightful.

Margot took this.

Water Troubles

I took this from the bus on my way home thinking to post about the evils of fluoridation and Hull City Council's wish to override the wishes of the surrounding villages and pollute the water with toxic chemicals so that the ignorant, sugar loving children of the city of culture would have fewer dental fillings and extractions. I was going to mention how a certain councillor who has no qualifications in dental matters has popped up from under his slime covered stone to pontificate grandly on the 'benefits' of compulsory medication. I was going to drag in an allusion to ancient troubles going back to the late 14^th century between Cottingham and Hull regarding the water supply and how the gentlemen of Cottingham would put carrion in the dyke that carried water funnily enough along this very street, Spring Bank, and how they could only be calmed by an edict from Pope John XXI ... I was going to do all this then I saw that the Council had put the plans on hold because they don't have the Do Re Mi as Woody Guthrie used to sing. So you see years of austerity have saved me the bother of writing all that and you the trouble of reading it.

I note that this nursery on Spring Bank is taking in babies aged six weeks! I mean six weeks old, at that age you could put them in your handbag (with handles or not) and go to work ...

Five minutes

Walking along Cottingham Road when I get to this point I know it's just five minutes to go and then I'm home to put my feet up and have a nice cup of tea.

Watch Where You're Going

What all this then? HGVs going down Kingtree Avenue? Weren't they looking? And were there so many the council had to put up a sign? If drivers of heavy goods vehicles are really so thick and unobservant as to follow a stupid sat nav down a narrow residential street in Cottingham what chance is there that they will even notice this sign? That's enough from me, you have reached your destination.

Surplus to Requirements

The natives are getting restless in deepest, darkest Cottingham. The local council, not Hull, for once, but the East Riding of Yorkshire Council, hereinafter known as ERYC, has decided that the Civic Hall in Cottingham is "surplus to requirements" and want to sell it off to whoever. That phrase 'surplus to requirements' clearly came from a soulless, heartless accountant and not something with a brain between its ears. Needless to say this has not gone down well with all the hundreds of people who use it for exercise groups, plays, community activities of all descriptions; real people to whom it is essential.  So plans are afoot to take over the place locally with a trust to manage the running of the place. Hopefully ERYC will see sense  and stop acting like ideological ass holes and remember there are elections coming up sooner or later when perhaps they'll find that they, too,  have become surplus to requirements.

The Erstwhile Bank

In what estate agents might call a prime location on the junction of Hallgate and King Street here is the building formerly known as HSBC. If this does not become a trendy wine bar and/or  restaurant in the next few months I'll be very surprised. It seems the big boys are closing branches up and down the country. HSBC are closing two branches in town including the Whitefriargate one. While Cottingham still has three other banks that folks can use some villages and even small towns have no banks at all which I imagine is a right pain if you're a pensioner with limited mobility and no understanding the web or if you're trying to run a shop and run out of change. 

The Takeaway

This one is on Cottingham Road but it could be just about anywhere in town, they're ubiquitous and they all look pretty much the same.

You see the world turned upside down

"Yet let's be content and the times lament, 

You see the world turned upside down."

I'm posting this picture upside down because, in line with just about everything this year, it looks better that way.

Margot took this while standing on her head in Cottingham.

The weekend in black and white could possibly be here.

Cottingham lights up again

Thanks to the efforts of volunteers and sponsorship from local shops Cottingham puts on a decent display of seasonal lights considering it's only a village (albeit the biggest in England). It almost rivals Blackpool ... almost.

A red dot in a sea of blue

Ah the pleasures and agonies of rearranging the electoral boundaries! This week has seen proposals to cut fifty seats from the House of Commons, that's MPs voting for fifty redundancies ... well I'll wait while you get over your sniggering fit. 

As far as I'm concerned if it goes ahead Cottingham and a few other outlying villages move from the safe, nay possibly the safest, Tory seat in the country to a proposed marginal seat of West Hull and Haltemprice (where or what is a Haltemprice? I've no idea!) West Hull at present is a totally safe Labour fiefdom (you see the method behind this, create a marginal, lose a safe Labour seat but keep the remains of a safe Tory seat, most excellent!). It also means that Hull may become a smaller red dot in a sea of blue which may be no bad thing. There are the delicious howlings of the self-serving gerrymandered and hopefully soon to be out-of-a-job politicos. I'm not that bothered really they can try living on the pittance of unemployment benefit they voted for, except they'll all have cushy little consultancy positions waiting for them. Does my contempt for politics and all politicians look big in this? 

A small concern is it could be the first move to take over the outlying villages and plonk them in with Hull City Council (just for neatness dontcha know) something that 96% voted against only two years ago.

Cottingham Day again and again

As ever on Cott Day there's the usual device for hanging children, with a nearby climbing frame so they can fall to their early demise with attendant queues of parents eager to dispose of unwanted offspring.

 

There's the vintage cars lining Hallgate

and people taking pictures of vintage cars on Hallgate.

There's the display of birds of prey who really should be in shade but are left to pant in clear distress in the warm sunshine while crowds ogle them and have their pictures taken holding them.

There's wannabe singers, of course, where would we be without them?

And people taking pictures of wannabe singers ...

There's the large stage with a pretty awful singer who...

...is ignored by a less than appreciative audience;

And there's always a display of vintage motorbikes but by this time they'd had enough and were off home. Just like me. See you next year, same time, same place, same whatever...