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WILSONS BLOG
I had to be at Atherstone library for 9 this morning for a book sale. Usual stuff, setting an alarm clock, getting up, driving along with lots of other people going to work, didn't bother shaving or showering though, and no tie or suit. and I'm back at 10.15 with the usual haul of Mills and Boons and t'ing. Bryan, you didn't miss much on satday night except classic Coleshill comedy via Paul Ellon, apparently. Adrian can fill us in. Sunday car boot sales were very interesting. I bought a 5 litre tub of washing up liquid called something like Hedron for £3. I was told it was made by (and identical to) Fairy but is the cheaper brand for the catering trade. Well whoever runs out first can try it and report back. I got over 200 prog rock-ish CDs at the table top sale on Satday and paid £200 for them - well over my normal limit. There are about six Yes albums and a little bit of 80s stuff too. A list will follow.

Adi's Choice Websites

A brief History of Coleshill

Coleshill began life in the Iron Age, before the Roman Conquest of 43AD, as a settlement on the south face of Grimstock Hill. Evidence of Hut Circles was found by archaeologists at the end of the 1970's. These excavations showed that throughout the Roman period there was a Romano-Celtic temple on Grimstock Hill. It had developed over the earlier Iron Age huts and had gone through at least three phases of development. The area was at the junction of two powerful Celtic Tribes - the Coritanii to the east from Leicester, and to the west the Cornovii from Wroxeter.

In the post Roman or Arthurian period (The Dark Ages) the nucleus of Coleshill moved about a kilometre to the south - to the top of the hill. Here the present church is set and the medieval town developed around it. By 1066 the town was a Royal Manor held by King Edward (the confessor) and is recorded in the Domesday Survey of 1086 as land held by William the Conqueror. Henry II granted the manor to the de Clinton family, then it passed to the de Montford's who had moated manor houses at Coleshill and Kingshurst. King Henry VII granted the lands to Simon Digby in 1496. His descendants (Wingfield-Digby) still hold the titles.

During the Coaching Trade and the Turnpike Trusts Coleshill became important as a major staging post on the coaching roads from London to Holyhead and from London to Chester to Liverpool. At one point there were over twenty inns in the town. The Coleshill to Lichfield Turnpike dates from 1743.

Many former coaching inns remain in Coleshill, mostly along the High Street and Coventry Road.

One of the most notable buildings in the town is the Parish Church Church of St Peter and St Paul at the top of the Market Square. It has a 52 metre (170ft) high steeple, one of the finest in Warwickshire, dating from the 13th century. Inside there is a 12th century font of Norman origin, which is one of the finest examples in the country. There are also medieval table tombs with effigies of Knights, including John de Clinton. Just outside the south door are the preserved remains of a medieval cross.

In the Market Square are the preserved remains of the Pillory and Whipping Post that were used to punish the town drunks and bakers selling underweight loaves.

Simon Digby was awarded the manor of Coleshill in 1496 by King Henry VII, following the Battle of Bosworth and the execution of Simon de Montford for helping in the attempt to oust the King.

One of the most infamous residents of Coleshill was John Wynn, a local cinema owner who, during World War II was caught transmitting information to the Germans.

I really should cut down

Bitterness - by A. Waterfield
As I look down the barrel of 44 years of age and the ever solidifying prospect of a lonely old age beyond, I can no longer deny that bitterness blights my outlook on life. Resigned to my fate? I think so. I'm tired of the struggle. I've tried on a wardrobe of philosophies. I'm ready to admit that being 'undersized' (4' 4") has been the bane of my life. The resultant neurosis has led me along the path to drink - a drunken obnoxious, pugnacious, pisshead, and I have the scars to prove it. All that remains now is some lingering ambivalence towards women and the prospect of another drink tomorrow. People see a small man and instantly look for the chip on his shoulder. In my case they wouldn't be disappointed. And why the hell not, after a lifetime of being discriminated against, rejected and being looked down upon?

You've probably guessed it; I have a problem with anger. It seems to be the motivation behind a large number of small men. There may just be some kind of evolutionary reason for this; perhaps a small man easily forms the habit of getting angry just to be taken seriously, whereas a big man would probably learn early to curb his anger to avoid frightening people unduly when his size alone would be enough to intimidate.

There's nothing to say of course that life has to be fair. The evidence in fact appears to be weighted heavily on the other side: that life is manifestly unfair. The number of people born clutching a short straw would no doubt be legion. There are the blind, the crippled, the disfigured, the insane, the retarded, the sick and those that are just plain unlucky. God only knows how often I have dwelt on this little fact of life, hoping to put into perspective my own insignificant black cloud. Why doesn't it work? I think perhaps because I do not live the blighted lives of all those unfortunates. Boldly put, I do not feel their pain - as others do not feel mine. However insignificant it may appear to others, it is my pain. It is my own personal tragedy. "Come on now," I hear you say. "Getting a little overdramatic aren't we?" I once thought so myself, but how could the pale shadow of a life, rather than the life that could and should have been, not qualify as a tragedy?

A small woman is 'petite'. A small man is a runt. A small woman needs protection (nothing unwomanly about that). A small man is seen as incapable of giving protection (unmanly). A woman's small stature would impinge only negligibly, if at all, on her allure and attractiveness to the opposite sex. A man's small stature all but obliterates his attractiveness to the opposite sex (even those of small stature themselves). Most small women will marry and have children. However, statistically, a disproportionate number of small men will never marry nor have children. Speaking as a statistic, it's only later in life that I've become fully aware of the magnitude of this deprivation - a disappointment to nature itself. Blinded by self-delusion, as a young person, I couldn't see this: "who needs a ball and chain anyhow?" But in ever widening circles, the extent of the loss becomes apparent: the calm haven of family life, the meaningfulness of procreation, extended family, relatedness, stability, rootedness, the transmission of a spark of myself through descendents, a social life stronger than the flickering candle flame of solitude amongst acquaintances...

The Goldfish Sketch
No Thank!
You Horrible Man!
You must be a Cunnibaal!
And They're Dying!

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