A journey around my brain

I have to live with my brain so I think it's only fair you should be exposed to its workings too. So bear with . . .

Last evening Husband, Elder Son and I were talking when ES mentioned that he'd been subjected recently to adverts for ear cleaning, including a cone-shaped device that worked like a corkscrew. I said it sounded like something you'd get at a Tupperware party, the sort of useless must-have gadgets that sit in your kitchen drawer until you forget what they're for and throw them out.

I explained that at Tupperware parties there would be little games and the winner would be able to choose a gadget as their prize. Initially an invitation to a party was cause for excitement but after the first couple of parties you'd find yourself looking for the cheapest thing on the list because, although they said there was no pressure to buy, it wasn't the done thing to go along, win your gadget, eat the snacks, drink the wine, and not buy anything. The more that was sold, the bigger the hostess's gift at the end.

To be fair Tupperware was always useful as I was reminded today as I refilled my porridge oats container.

This must be nearly forty years old.

Nowadays everyone does their own version of Tupperware. I assume the company still exists but do they still have parties?

I needed the oats to make date flapjacks for which I also need a little bit of baking powder. I've put baking powder on my shopping list and ordered the brand name version, which is three times as expensive as Sainsbury's own, but I can get the lid off easily. 

The other thing I've been thinking about is Dic Penderyn. On this date in 1831 Dic (Richard Lewis) was hanged for stabbing a soldier in the Merthyr Rising. He claimed innocence and there was no evidence to prove the charge but the authorities were desperate to show the rioters what would happen to them if they continued to dare to rise up against injustice.

For unlike the recent far right riots in Britain these were ordinary working people struggling to make ends meet in the face of mass redundancies and wage cuts. Britain was in the grip of an economic depression and it was the poorest who were bearing the brunt. 

The 93rd Highlanders were called in to disperse the rioters and were ordered to fire, and two dozen men and women were killed. For almost a week the rioting continued and it took another thousand troops - and some concessions from management - to quell it.

From what I've read it seems Dic Penderyn was unlucky. A young man in the wrong place at the wrong time, chosen as a scapegoat, who paid for it with his life.

Alexander Cordell wrote a novel about the uprising. It's called The Fire People if you're interested. 

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I can confirm that a magnesium supplement does absolutely nothing to resolve my restless night problem.