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MercianregBBC South East news 7th November 2013

UK soldier killled in Afghan suicide attack named

A British soldier killed in Afghanistan has been named as Warrant Officer class 2 David Philip Green. The 42-year-old, from Dagenham, East London, was part of the 3rd Battalion The Mercian Regiment.

The Ministry of Defence said he died in a suicide attack on the final day of an operation to disrupt insurgents in the Kamparack area, 25 miles (40km) north-east of Lashkar Gah in Helmand.

His widow Gillian said: “David will always be the centre of my life, he will be remembered as a doting father, loving husband and a true professional soldier.”

He had two sons, aged seven and five.

SONY DSCLancaster Guardian 15th February 1915

Lancaster Soldier Killed In Action

Corporal Bernard Daly 35, serving with “B” Coy. 2nd Bn King’s Shropshire Light Infantry of 13 Bradshaw St, Lancaster died on Friday, 12 February, in the trenches of the St Eloi sector, Ypres.
His commanding officer, Captain Skinner described Corporal Daly, husband of Jane Frances Daly and father of two as a model soldier who had just completed 20 years service. He was well-liked by all the men and was a keen hockey player. He was shot in the head by a sniper’s bullet and would have died instantly.

By a cruel twist of fate, the post that brought the family this devastating news also contained a letter from Corporal Daly especially for his young son on  the occasion of his birthday.

My Great Grandfather


© Andy Daly 2013

Washing You Were Here

Success! Job done. Half a dozen ‘proper’ shirts, enough T shirts to start a medium-sized stall on Wembley Market. My ‘Iggy and the Stooges’ tour T shirt (extra extra care) two delicates I didn’t dare take a chance with, accompanied by a sort of ‘Sedimentary Layer’ of socks, pants etc.

All washed, dried and found approporiate homes for before close of play!

Of course these ‘appropriate homes’ –  come Monday morning turn out to be nothing more than a fading mirage: as socks, pants, shirts, braces, cummerbunds, heavily starched cotton collars, Cowboy Boots, Do-Bocks and neat little pocket handkerchiefs appear in the most unlikley places. Places I swear I didn’t put them on Sunday … That’s if they appear at all.

© Andy Daly 2011

A dear old friend goes under the surgeon’s knife tomorrow at Newcastle Upon Tyne’s RVI. Here at ‘Sitting Comfortably?’ we are hoping that it is successful. Love and best wishes Tim.’

A Sign

What beastly eyes.

Imagine waking up in the night and finding these looking down at you. You wouldn’t need to use the Lactulose for a while would you?

Is it the face of the Old Hag, as she sits on your chest, cackling her nightmarish cackle?

(Hands up: anyone ever had that dream? I have. I’ll tell you about it one day)

What do you think? Man? Beast? or Pasta?

Tiger, Toad or Tortellini?

 Using Photoshop: that amazingly powerful aid to visual expression/death of creativity (depending on your viewpoint)

Let’s split it in half down the middle.

Lighten it.

Now if I convert it from the black and white back into its original colour.

We’re left with the remnants of some pasta on a spoon, I spotted as I cleared up after tea one day.

And the point of all this? I’m buggered if I know. It’s not even as if I’ve nothing better to do. I suppose I should say that it is a sign, and have it splashed all over the papers. Hey, that’s not a bad idea. Where’s that number for the National Enquirer?

A Marvellous Night For A Moondance

It’s a marvellous night for a moondance …

Name: Bernard Daly
Birth Place: Barbados, West Indies
Residence: Lancaster
Death Date: 12 Feb 1915. Age 35
Rank: Corporal
Regiment: King’s (Shropshire Light Infantry)
Battalion: “B” Coy, 2nd Battalion.
Number: 8145
Type of Casualty: Killed in action. Sniper Bullet, in trenches near Bois Confluent
Additional information: Son of Capt. B. Daly, Waterloo Gardens, Belfast; husband of Jane Frances Daly, of Bradshaw St., Lancaster.
Grave/Memorial Reference:  Panel 47 and 49.

Memorial:                      YPRES (MENIN GATE) MEMORIAL

My Great Grandfather

Picture taken in the back garden 11:35 pm 12/02/2011. ‘Moondance’ by Van Morrison

© Andy Daly 2011


How to hang your Skrötum

(Please note this post may not be suitable for young children or those of a nervous disposition)

A post prompted by ‘Sitting Comfortably?’s recent series on recurring dreams which involved forced DIY of a particularly ‘Flat-Pack’ nature and their interpretation. It is intended to provide succour and support for those in ‘Flat-Pack Hell’, wherever that happens to be: deep in their subconscious, or all over the living room floor.

Swedish Exports

So, guess what? Me and an old friend had a whale of  a time last weekend … At our local branch of IEKA. Yep! You heard correct: I did say IEKA. Sweden’s greatest export (After Björn, Benny, Agnetha and Anne-Frid* of course) That unlovely and irritating Nordic hemorrhoid (which in case you’ve ever been curious are a damn sight easier to get than they are to spell)  which sits aside the marginally unlovlier A 406. The capital’s inner orbital route.

 Not one of my favourite parts of town

That’s the ‘top bit’ – if your Geography’s failing you – The North Circular: or simply ‘That Fucking Road’ as it is more commonly known. It wends it miserable way through  North West London, blighting the lives of those unfortunate enough to live near it, who, at our present location, just happen to be the inhabitants of Neasden. And of course the poor sods who have to attempt to journey along its carbon-encrusted, crumbling and winding fucking lanes, its lights and never, never, never-ending road works with their inevitable lane closures.

You could say that it is not one of my favourite parts of town. In fact, I will do almost anything to avoid filtering round from Hanger Lane, or down through Wembley/Stanmore or anywhere which leads in the general direction of ‘You Know What’.

‘You Know What’. Otherwise known as IEKA.

 A successful visit to IEKA.

There are a pitifully small number of occasions on which we can have said to have had a successful visit to IEKA. In other words avoided an interminable traffic jam, there, back – or both, been able to walk through the store without fear for our safety, found what we wanted, been able to pay for it, then fit it onto/into the car and make it home without further incident. These pathetic ‘successes’ have been achieved either as the result of an early morning snap-decision to ‘up and out’ while everyone is still in bed and beat the crowds  –  or even better, to go when the England football team play a major game such as a World Cup quarter-final, for instance.


Just look at it. Like a malevolent Lego set. It stands (casually, lazily. Not straight-backed and disciplined like Marine Commando John Lewis) A sharp – eyed sentinel, jealously guarding its ‘reputation’ and more importantly its market share; topped off with all the charm of a devious, wicked paedophile: enticing the unwary and vulnerable into its veritable ‘Garden of Delights’.

Seductive furnishing, fabrics and practical knickknacks

The sad fact of course though is that there is no answer to its seductive furnishing, fabrics and practical knickknacks. Not at such prices. There really isn’t anywhere else you can get that sexy, contemporary tin opener for less than the price of a pint and a game of pool. Or that sofa-bed which you’ve been searching for (but without  breaking the bank) for when your Dad comes to stay. I dread  the words: ‘Shall we go to IEKA? We could do with something with which we can create a bit of space’ It’s  a bit like hearing ‘I’ve been thinking, Pet. I really do think its time we got rid of that surplus old testicle of yours. We’ve never needed it … and besides, it takes up so much room.’ In addition, it  will fit so snugly into that alcove’  (the sofa-bed) – and incidentally push Dad’s Sciatica into a new and chronic phase.


And look at this: both products, tin opener and sofa-bed are packaged in reassuring, environmentally – friendly corrugated card. And both carry the individual designer’s name: Bengt Bangersson and Soren Ulafsson respectively. (However, the chances of you getting hold of Bengt or Soren should their product fail to come up to your expectations are … well … remote to say the least.)

Funny Names

And they do give them some funny names don’t they? the products? The sofa-bed is called a ‘Lycksel’ which I can’t help thinking is rather rude – if not a physical impossibility.

Try it yourself

Rant over and done with and out of my system – this is where Jimmy and I got our laughs.’Rude, Suggestive and Silly IEKA names’. It’s not big, it’s not clever and it’s not original, but it made us giggle for a while. I am sure that many of you will have not only played  but come up with far better examples of your own.

Here are some of ours. Try it yourself: in the store or just flicking through the catalogue at home. Lycka till !

New  for 2011/12

Recktum – Is space a problem? Try these attractive stacking storage boxes. You’ll wonder how you ever did without.

Nob. A carefully positioned Nob can do wonders for even the most featureless room. Try the Nob range of table lamps.

Wince. IEKA’s range of giftware. Second to none.

Don’t buy till you’ve tried Bile, IEKA’s exclusive space age cooking utensils.

Tossä. You won’t be able to resist Anders Liefshite’s dynamic new tablewear.

Robust, hardwearing – you need a strong, sturdy Skrötum – especially with the likes of these rascals climbing all over it all the time! Skrötum is a fully interchangeable system of shelving for walls, doors and … wherever you want!

Chuff: An elegant soap dispenser.

Pubik: Scatter cushions.

Gag: a complete range of bedding – sheets, pillows, duvets. You name it!

Ulsså: make your mark with these ready-made curtains.

The ‘Must-Have’ wardrobe for 2011/12 is Stroke. You’ll probably have one too as you attempt to self-assemble this box of shite. Designer Stig Holmqvist makes a feature of using a completely different number of screws and nails on each construction – Individual! Or as we say in Sweden, ‘Förlorare!’**


* ABBA: For those of you who have been hibernating for the last 50 years.

** ‘Loser!

Postscript to ‘How to hang your Skrötum

A few IEKA facts:

Founded in 1943 by 17-year-old Ingvar Kamprad in Sweden.

It is the World’ largest retailer of furniture.

The company name is an acronym comprising Ingvar’s initials, the farm where he grew up (Elmtaryd), and his home parish, Agunnaryd.

IKEA products are identified by single word names. Most of the names are Swedish in origin, based on a special naming system developed by IKEA.


  • Upholstered furniture, coffee tables, rattan furniture, bookshelves, media storage, doorknobs: Swedish placenames
  • Beds, wardrobes, hall furniture: Norwegian place names
  • Dining tables and chairs: Finnish place names
  • Bookcase ranges: Occupations
  • Bathroom articles: Scandinavian lakes, rivers and bays
  • Kitchens: grammatical terms, sometimes also other names
  • Chairs, desks: men’s names
  • Fabrics, curtains: women’s names
  • Garden furniture: Swedish islands
  • Carpets: Danish place names
  • Lighting: terms from music, chemistry, meteorology, measures, weights, seasons, months, days, boats, nautical terms
  • Bedlinen, bed covers, pillows/cushions: flowers, plants, precious stones
  • Children’s items: mammals, birds, adjectives
  • Curtain accessories: mathematical and geometrical terms
  • Kitchen utensils: foreign words, spices, herbs, fish, mushrooms, fruits or berries, functional descriptions
  • Boxes, wall decoration, pictures and frames, clocks: colloquial expressions, also Swedish place names

So now you know!

© Andy Daly 2011  The views expressed are not necessarily those of the author

Clive Jarvis


I am not a teacher, but an awakener.

Robert Frost

Yet Again

Yet again, ‘Good Friday’ turns out to be a bitter disappointment. It wasn’t ‘Good’ at all. In fact it was bloody awful most of the time.

There was one Golden Nugget, however, which made me laugh like a drain. My eldest, 18 years old, fit as a butchers dog, is vacuuming the room, giving me a hand tidying the house. As he works he is listening to his I pod: Loud. Mainly to drown out my Aswad CD: Even Louder.

‘That’s interesting…’ I thought. ‘Why is he doing a ‘dummy run with the vac?’ I motioned to him to stop, which he did. Sarcastically, I said: ‘It works much better when it’s switched on’

Immediately, he pulled off his headphones: ‘Oh no! How long has it been like this?’

 ‘I haven’t heard any noise for about 15 mins’ I said.

“Bugger” it. said As he bashed about in the cupboard, that means I’ve got to do it all again!

He had ‘hoovered’ almost the whole of the downstairs of the house without turning it on!

Bless him! Now if only he would do something about those soppy jeans he wears halfway down his arse …

A Postscript to ‘A Rough Crossing Without A Guide ‘

Thomas Townson (‘Nandy’) was born in 1875 and Ethel Dawson (‘Tomt’) the same year as Picasso, 1881. Yet my memories of them and the times I spent  in their house are as vivid – if not even more so – than when I was a child.
I don’t  believe in a God and I don’t believe in an afterlife; at least not in the array of forms in which it is most commonly presented. But I do feel sure, somehow that I’ll see Thomas and Ethel again … One day…

And with that in mind, I would like to take the opportunity to admit to the both of you the years of pilfering the Everton Mints, stored in your dark corner cupboard, and  respectfully ask that two other offences (location – Larder) be taken into consideration.

© Andy Daly  2010

Coming up: 

So who thinks Wildlife Photography is a doddle? Photographer turns up, whips out their camera, Click! Click! Home in time for tea and crumpets. 

Think again. Especially when you’re up against kingfishers whose sole aim is to confront the metanarrative myths of a discredited Modernism … On Yeading Brook.

Miss it at your peril! 


“ Life on Mars” David Bowie. Remember it? Excellent song. On the vinyl lead out track of the 7 inch single, if you listen really carefully you can hear him ask for a glass of water. A bit over-assertively in my view; but I suppose if you’ve just recorded a 70’s classic we can forgive such foibles.

 (I’m never really quite sure what foibles are. I feel they ought to be a Brooklyn Xmas tree decoration made with feathers instead of glass)

 “Say Honey, which day do we take down duh Christmas decorations so we don’t get bad luck? I -yay, yay, yay,  can never remember is it duh 5th oer duh 6th?”

 “Ey How many times stoopid? And make sure  you pack all duh foibles away properly. Dey wereyeruncle Frankies”

© Andy Daly  2010



I’ve had a shockin’ day today. My head feels like a block of wood. I fact it looks a lot like one too. You know, like an African carved mask with eyes looking in different directions, raffia hair and teeth made from sea shells. That’s exactly what I feel like right now. I’ve got a whole gang of men from the Kalabari region of Nigeria, behind me making all sorts of noises. I have never met them before, and I’ve no idea who let them in, but they seem jolly nice.

© Andy Daly  2010.