Iceni warrior

They too should have any fundraising accounts shut down.

You can protest within the law. Obstructing the highway, intimidation and noise pollution all lie outside the law though. I suspect GFM's lawyers pointed this out and that's the reason for them closing the account.

They might suffer legal consequences for aiding the funding of an illegal activity though, which I suspect is why GFM have shut down the account.

It's coming home.

In many ways women's football is better to watch than the men's game. You don't get anywhere near so much fouling, diving, faking injury etc. The game flows much better without all the stoppages.

I've just learned how to live the champagne lifestyle on a brown ale budget. All you've got on your deathbed is your memories anyway. You can't take anything with you when you go.

My dad was a life long civil servant. Never really had spare money for investing but he got a nice government pension. He retired at the age I am now and got nearly 20 years of retirement.

We're plagued by speed cameras over here. The days of driving fast are over.

Meanwhile, the MG is just a badge on a hot saloon car or hatchback these days. Or worse still an SUV.

What was it George Best said when he was asked where all his money had gone? ''I spent a lot of money on booze, birds and fast cars. The rest I just squandered.''

Depends whether you want to go fast in a straight line or fast around the bends. I'd go for the MG myself. Much prettier car that could handle a corner at speed.

Ah, Dad was the same then born in '36. The year of the three Kings. Mum was born in the Nottingham blitz in '40.

Nice. A little posher than Dad's little red MK II 950cc Midget. Similar to this but with wire wheels.

Parallel lives. LOL This was what his old Dolomite looked like. Not his but same year and model. Used to do time trials on the track. Manually operated windscreen wipers in the Singapore monsoons. Some times he'd have to just stick his head out of the window because he couldn't wipe quickly enough to see where he was going and he needed both hands to drive the car. LOL. What a life. Last days of Empire. Silk lined hand tailored cream dinner jacket to go to parties with the elites. His old silk smoking jacket with a golden Chinese dragon embroidered on it was my dressing gown as I was growing up. Came back from Singapore on a luxury liner with the MG in the hold. Through the Suez canal then unloaded with the car in Italy to drive the rest of the way home. He'd managed to get a press pass to report on the Italian Grand Prix for a Singapore newspaper. Access all areas for Monza '64. Then a tour through the Alps and home with Mum pregnant with me and my baby sister on her lap in the little 2 seater. Bloody boomers had all the fun. LOL.

The only thing my father ever competed at was motorsports. Nothing too flashy, Autotests in his MG Midget or vintage rallying in his old 1937 Triumph Dolomite. That was mostly before I was born though when he was living the high life of the English colonialist in Singapore. I think the only sport we ever played together was table tennis but he couldn't do spin so I beat him every time unless I promised not to put spin on the ball.

Dad never once came to watch me play rugby. No one did, nor did they come and watch me win my swimming medals or compete in the county cross country championships. He'd find the money for an expensive gumshield or a pair of rugby boots or spiked running shoes but he wasn't going to take the time to come and watch. I was fully independent by the time I left home at 17.

Same here, minimum interference in my life unless I bothered him. My sister and I both chose to stay with him rather than go with mum and her new man. Well I went with her at first but was back with dad after about 3 weeks. My stepfather was an a hole and I got into a fight with my stepbrother so that was it. On the phone to dad ''can I come home please''.

Mum was the one who resorted to violence. Her weapon of choice was a wooden spoon. Usually to break me and my sister up. We fought like cats and dogs. ''If you two don't stop I'm going to bang your heads together''. My sister was older so she had the upper hand for years. Pulling my hair and pushing me around. Then one day when I was about 12 or 13 I just punched her straight in the mouth. She was a lot more respectful towards me after that. I did hit her in the face with the foot stool we were arguing over once. Chipped her teeth. I got in a lot of trouble over that. We get on now so long as we don't spend too much time together.

I never even dared raise my voice to dad. He was a strict disciplinarian but he never did more than give me a slapped leg if I stepped out of line. He'd always come and apologise to me afterwards. He had a temper but he wasn't violent. A telling off was always enough to put me in my place.

Only time I ever saw him lay a hand on another man. He was not a fighter. He didn't follow up, just left him on the floor looking cowed. The guy made up some story about my sister stealing something from his stall. ''Gestolen, gestolen''. That wasn't true though. First off my sister isn't a thief but also I'd seen the whole thing play out. He was definitely creeping on her, creepy grin on his face, trying to grab her. Sister had her arms crossed trying to stop him copping a feel of her breasts. I was the one who brought it to dad's attention. He turns around and sees this creep trying to grab my sister's arm and just exploded. Boom, one second this guy is trying to hassle my pretty 12 year old sister next he's on his arse wondering what hit him. Dad was definitely a superman that day.

I don't know. It can swing back again with another moment. Like the time the family was in a flea market in Amsterdam and this guy was creeping on my sister. Dad went all military bearing, booming voice and shoved the man so hard in the chest he ended up 10' back on his arse. Bang, he's back to being superman again.

I never really got the chance to get to know mine very well. They had all died by the time I was about 12 and a lot of my childhood was spent abroad so I hadn't seen much of any of them. My Gibraltan grandfather's second wife was the only one who lived to a great age. His first wife, my mum's mum died before I was born. My other grandmother, my father's Ulster born mum, was the only one I have many memories of but even she didn't make it to her seventies. Even when we were in England we never lived close enough to have a proper extended family with grandparents babysitting us.

I don't think you can really point to one single moment. It's more of a slow realisation over a longer period of time. There may be a few milestone moments. I remember going running with my father and realising that he couldn't keep up. Witness him shouting Mayday in fear in a tight Italian dead end street after he'd slashed his wrist trying to physically turn the caravan around. Seeing him cry for the first time in the same circumstances Dougie has described. Understanding that your parents don't have a endless supply of money despite never wanting for anything. It's an accumulation of moments like that which bring a gradual understanding that your dad is not superhuman after all.

More poppycock. Agriculture was the main cause of deforestation in Europe. It was the need to feed the population that led to the change of land use away from forests and towards food production. It wasn't the need for fuel. Shipbuilding caused more deforestation than burning wood for fuel.

Mutually beneficial trade agreements are a good thing though aren't they? Germany bails out bankrupt Greece with cheap loans and in return retains a market for it's products. The EU doesn't need to own any of its own wealth (It does btw through contributions and import duties and tariffs etc) it just needs to help member states create it. Very few nations are monoliths. The US generates most of it's wealth in a small amount of States. Most of the UK's wealth is generated in London and the south east. Scotland and Wales are just drains on the exchequer.