Dress to Impress

July 13, 2025 / aggiemurch / 2 Comments

Written and read for you by Muriel Murch with WSM by my side

Dress to impress and dress for success, sometimes we try – but what does that mean – and for whom and for when are we dressing? This week I dressed for an appointment with a new doctor because I wanted him to see and receive me, and not to toss me off as another white 82 year old female with knee pain. So my fingernails were a playful bright green.

I may not be a spring chicken but I’m not ready to shuffle off with a walker just yet. I’m praying for a physical exam and an x-ray and a picture that would tell me what is going on with my knee and how can we fix it. It is 15 years since that knee was replaced and I’m aiming for at least another five. It looks like the green nail varnish worked and slipped this fast-talking professional fellow out of total keep-it-together efficiency to ask ‘So how tall are you’? and we laughed – before getting serious again and him telling me what the x-ray pictures showed. ‘Your knee is fine – your hip is worn out.’ Seems like another case of ‘rode hard and put away wet’. But I know to be beyond grateful. I am fortunate to have options in front of me and live a life where such care is accessible.

In countries that are at war, with themselves and each other, this is not so. The old, the infirm, the young and sick, are all vulnerable and frequently dying for and from the wars that ravage around them. Within the jungles of Myanmar, the city streets of Belarus and the open fields and villages of Ukraine, we are not privy to the unseen hardships played out in those lands. This week we watched ‘Gaza: Doctors Under Attack’ a documentary that was first commissioned by the BBC. Then, according to Stuart Heritage writing for The Guardian, “dropped due to the risk that it created “a perception of partiality”. Luckily Channel 4 picked it up and it is also now available on YouTube. Channel 4’s Louisa Compton warned that Doctors Under Attack would “make people angry, whichever side they take.” She is right. This is the sort of television that will never leave you. Maybe it can provoke an international reaction and we owe it to the people and the countries to not look away. And I don’t, instead finding images remain front and center in my mind making me think deeper about what is happening and how it is happening.

Mangos by JACQUELINE BRANDWAYN on Unsplash

A doctor, who has just lost members of his own family, kneels beside a bed shared by two staving children and asks the older boy fed with a gastric tube “What do you want, What would you like?” The boy whispers, “Mango, mango and grapes”. “And the doctor laughs gently with him, “Mangos and Grapes. You shall have them” while in his heart he knows that joy may have to wait for another life time. As he pats the boy, feigning reassurance he steadies himself against the weeping that is in his soul. And maybe we too must at the least bear witness to the horrors that are happening just around our global corner, as a less than five hours flight from London to Israel has become.

Some of the doctors followed in this film are still alive and working. Some are not. Almost all have been imprisoned, tortured and lost family members. The film follows a trajectory of sorts. It begins as hospitals are warned to evacuate – but there is nowhere for patients or staff to go. Then an air strike happens, causing more chaos and casualties among the patients and staff who remained. There is a final follow-through as the doctors homes and families are bombed before the attacks move onto the next hospital and repeat the format. Hospital buildings can be rebuilt – though it is doubtful that is the agenda here – but the taking out by imprisonment, torture and death of top medical personal leaves a hole in the knowledge of medicine that will take more than one decade to repair.

‘No water, no electricity’ … surgeons at work in Gaza: Doctors Under Attack. Photograph: Basement Films

Since the film was made last year, medical officials of all areas in Gaza are facing mass casualties and deaths of Palestinians wounded by Israeli fire as they scramble and fight for food. Relief aid distribution is now almost solely in the hands of The Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, a US and Israel-backed organization, formed in February 2025, and now helmed by Johnnie Moore Jr of Delaware, an evangelical leader and businessman – which seems awfully close to Washington DC. In May the GHF took over from any organization sanctioned by the United Nations. I am not alone in feeling that this organization is disguising target practice as aid.

But we see very little of this on our daily evening news. Summer sports keep us happy, the heat waves keep us worrying, and we sigh at the incredible slowness of the government body inquiries into biggest miscarriage of Justice – the Post Office scandals – between 1999 and 2015 – finally come to a conclusion, exonerating those 900 sub-postmasters who were wrongly accused of masses of thefts, – the Horizon computers did it. 13 sub-postmasters committed suicide, many died of old age. The inquiry’s chair has begun to release the reports. Judge Sir Wyn Williams is a singing Welshman, president of Pendyrus Male Choir, which somehow makes one feel that he is a sensible fellow able to lead this committee walking through the dutiful steps to bring the officials to account, saying what needs to be said. It has taken a singing Welshman to steer this inquiry into publication.

After the relief of seeing this debortle coming to an end, we watched French President Macron toss the prickly ball of illegal immigration back and forth with Prime Minister Starmer in the House of Commons before they both enjoyed the perks of a State visit. President and Madame Macron’s State visit to Britain is the first of France, or indeed Europe, to England since Brexit. The final banquet, hosted by the King and Queen at Windsor Castle, brought out all the medals and sashes one could find, a tiara or two, good will and good manners to all, with proper speeches and – we hope – good French wine. A little brightness to end the day.

Sashes, medals and a Tiara but no green nail varnish

As censorship continues pulsing in with the tide of fear we must watch for rogue waves while the ripples over the sand show us where the truth is hiding, like clams under the sand sending up spouts of sea water, cleaning its breathing and screaming for life. But in England, coming down firmly in favour of censorship, protesting and supporting the pro-Palestinian, anti-Israeli activist group Palestine Action, has washed in another ruling under anti-terrorist laws as the government hurries to project its own agenda. There are spouts of truths in all the theaters of war and governments and while those in authority try so hard to hide them they continue to wash up on the shores of our consciousness.

This has been A Letter from A. Broad. Written and read for you by Muriel Murch

Grateful to be supported by murchstudio.com/

August Bank Holiday W/E

September 2, 2024September 4, 2024 / aggiemurch / 1 Comment

August Bank Holiday,

Written and read for you by Muriel Murch with WSM by my side.

‘Out of the Office’, automatic replies come bouncing in to anyone foolish enough to write a business letter in the month of August. Occasionally there is a head’s up – a note saying “I will be away on holiday until the ‘something’ in August. If this is urgent please contact – whoever the poor soul is who has been left to ward off intrusive calls.” Lawyers, bankers, publishers, doctors, stylists, and politicians all go away, usually taking a plane to Spain or even as far as Turkey, leaving delivery drivers and grocery clerks to carry on. Pete from the Primrose Hill market farm stand has taken his wife to visit her family in Croatia.

Chugging along under Tower Bridge Photo by WSM

Over the weekend, the river is choppy as the wind battles with the sun to give the tourists a boat-ride to remember while cruising up and down the Thames to Greenwich where the Cutty Sark, along with the maritime museums and colleges waits patiently for them.

Returning to the city from their seafaring adventures the tourists pour into the street, across Westminster Bridge circling around the Palace of Westminster, the House of Parliament and Big Ben, now free of three years of scaffolding, and whose clock-face shines over the river.

But across the bridge from the Houses of Parliament is the wall that encircles St. Thomas’s Hospital and lines the walkway along the river.

Painting of St. Thomas’s Hospital at the Welcome Trust Museum

The Hospital was named after Saint Thomas Becket and first built in Southwark, possibly as early as 1173. The reformation of the monasteries caused its closure but in 1551- the young king – Edward VI – allowed the hospital to move up-river a bit while being rededicated to another Thomas – the Apostle. St. Thomas’s Hospital was first dedicated to serving the poor, the destitute and homeless and though it has become a world renowned teaching hospital it has remained open ever since. It is seeming and appropriate that the wall that cradles the hospital close to the Thames and faces the Houses of Parliament is still decorated with painted hearts and messages commemorating the thousands who died in the Covid epidemic that began in January of 2020.

Within the Houses of Parliament, the green benches in the house of Commons and the red benches from the House of Lords are mostly bare. If Sir Keir Starmer, during his term as Prime Minister, finally has his way then those red benches, so bloated by gift peerages from previous governments – both Labour and Conservative – will become even more sparsely filled and those gifts of ermine robes in very short supply. Though most of the politicians have popped off on holiday the Prime Minister has cancelled his two weeks of family time in Europe and stayed at home. Sir Keir knows that there are things to attend to and if he is lucky he can get some serious work done – for he is a methodical and serious fellow – and have a look at the bookkeeping left by the previous government. What exactly is the state of the economy and the country and how much money is available in the kitty for all those reforms that he promised? Not a lot it seems. Like a new contractor coming in for your house repairs, there is some teeth sucking as he looks at the job before him. And like any English builder – there is fault to find with those who came before him. Instead of “They used the wrong paint love,” Sir Keir’s line is already “Things will get worse before they get better.” A version of Lord David Cameron’s “Hard times are ahead we are going to have to tighten our belts.” And we all remember how that went down. The £600 fuel allowance that was so freely given out last year has already been cut for the upcoming winter. There will hardly be a city and country household who will choose not to heat their entire house – however small it is.

Like many of us – not on holiday – in England – Sir Keir has been watching the wars as they continue to unfold. The Ukrainian army has popped a missile over into the Russian territory of Kursk, and captured a few Russian soldiers that it promptly swapped for 115 men of its own. Our screens light up with the flames from the Israeli and Hezbollah strikes at each other. Is it a game of fire and fury, a warning or wake up move? All is paused as each side ponders and watches the other.

Then there was the Democratic Convention held in Chicago last week, orchestrated into a fine piece of rousing theatre. Only the most cynical among us could not be flickered into a moment of hope that the homegrown terrorist among the American people could be held at bay. The concept of a woman – a comfortable and pleasing shade of brown – with a steady coach beside her, may – with much luck and hard work – keep America safe for a few more years, is enough to make one giddy with hope. One could see this as a sea change of colour that comes with autumn, the maturing of the fruits of this season.

At the market the colours are changing too. Bright red berries are giving way to the blush of young apples, the green cream of pears and the dark purple of Victoria plums, while the deep black of hedgerow berries glisten with a shimmering autumnal hue.

With constant support by murchstudio.com

Colours of Conscience

May 13, 2021 / aggiemurch

Recorded and Knit together by WSM

The hedgerows bow down with cowslip’s white lace to welcome us walking along the canal towpath. There is the faint smell of spring in the air which will coax summer into being as the bees find the blossoms of cowslip, hawthorne and elderflower. I am searching for the elderflower but because of the continuing cold weather she is shy to blossom. Not so the dog roses, peeking cheekily along the back pathways surrounding Primrose Hill. I must wait a week, two at the most, for my harvest to make elderflower cordial. In the city and the countryside the seasons are following one after the other, the way the Earth intended.

The countryside is one thing but the country is another. On Thursday, looking for renewal or some new life to emerge, the United Kingdom went to the polls for a by-election. This is when the local councils and townships vote for their councilors and mayors, the boots on the ground, who have to balance the ever-decreasing government budget hand-outs with the needs of their constituencies that those in Westminster’s Parliament are too busy to discuss.

The results trickled in over the weekend. Ballot counting was slow –apparently due to Covid – while both paid staff and volunteers worked hard, counting by hand as they always have. There was ‘some problems’ with the London mail-in votes as 30,000 were rejected as not being filled out correctly. I hope mine was not one of them. ‘Things will change,’ said the defeated Conservative Mayoral candidate, Shaun Bailey. Maybe.

But Sadiq Khan is back for another four years of hard grind and I am glad to see him. Though past Labour leaders such as Gordon Brown and Ed Miliband have seen and used Khan’s worth, the Conservative team will have little time for a working class Sunni Muslim son of a bus driver from Tooting. Growing up, Khan always worked while at school and university. Taking jobs from builders yards to the Peter Jones Department store in Sloane Square, Khan learnt early how England’s different worlds would treat him. The Westminster Conservatives will not give him an easy ride while he walks and works to his own conscience. On reelection he said,

“I will always be a mayor for all Londoners, working to improve the lives of every single person in this city…The scars of Brexit have yet to heal. A crude culture war is pushing us further apart.”
Sadiq Kahn

Prime Minister Boris Johnson and Mayor of London Sadiq Khan photo by P.A. Wire

Khan’s words are true not just for London but for the United Kingdom which look more frayed than ever before. Wales returned a strong Red rosette Labour party across the board. Scotland with Nicola Sturgeon came back with a daffodil yellow Scottish Independence party win, while England turned blue with the cold of a crushing Conservative paint job.

What happened to Labour that the nice Sir Kier Starmer lost so much ground? Maybe it was similar to Hillary Clinton’s error of not going to the people who were hurting and most afraid. For change is coming – for the English laborer who cares not to toil the fields or work the railroads. Now the work is for new technologies and inventive ways of producing and harnessing clean energy. With their belief that green policies embrace social justice, environmentalism and nonviolence and are inherently related to one another, the Green party is now nipping at the heels of the Big Two.

When Labour’s Andy Burnham was reelected as the mayor of Greater Manchester with a landslide victory, he shone a shining light on the North of England’s place in the country. Promising to adopt a “place-first not a party-first” policy he is, in his own way, echoing Sadiq Khan’s call for London with a reminder that England remains, or has become, more divided than ever before. It is not just North and South, rural and urban, English or British but a sewer-stuck mixture of all of these things in a country closing in on itself. Now more than ever the waters of the channel to Europe and beyond are looking like choppy seas.

The Queen’s Speech is today. This ceremonial occasion is where the Queen reads out the government’s new policies. As we watch her age with years and life’s burdens, the robes and weight of the office seem to smother her. She sits on her throne, reading words written by her government and on this occasion, like other times before, one holds the secret hope that she will stand and say. “This is not good enough. It is ridiculous, cruel, or incomplete.” We, the public, naturally have been leaked what is to be said. There is little of merit in the speech. The promise to help the United Kingdom recover from the effects of the Covid Pandemic carry, as Labour politicians point out, no meat or potatoes in those words. But one item seemly taken from one orange man and used by a yellow one, relates to voting reforms. Britons will have to show Photo IDs to vote in future General elections, and it is combined with a strange item that limits the number of postal votes that can be handed in on behalf of others. Ministers say this will reduce the risk of electoral fraud. While the Electoral Commission is quietly shaking its collective head, for in 2019 there was just one conviction and one police caution for impersonating another voter.

Looking beyond our shores, the fires of distress spark flames of unrest and fear across the world. This week sees Israel and Palestine hurl bombs and bullets at each other fighting for their homelands as they see it. The loss of children’s lives crossed all religions while those who can see, cry out “Enough already”.

This has been a Letter from A. Broad.

Written and read for you by Muriel Murch

First aired on Swimming Upstream – KWMR.org.

Web support by murchstudio.com