Changeable Weather

Saturday. 8.55 a.m. It appears to be a somewhat overcast and dull sort of day. What of it? Just get on with things. It's a bit gusty, and it might be raining.

The digital thermometer currently reads 21ºc. 

I purchased a book from Amazon, titled "DJI Pocket 3 User Guide." This little gadget is far more complex than you might imagine, and with numerous settings, a manual is really a necessity to get the best from it.

Sunday. 2.50 p.m. It has been bright and sunny this morning, although, as I write this, it has become overcast.

Currently, the digital thermometer reads 23ºc.

I have begun going through the Osmo Pocket 3 manual and getting to discover what each setting does, which includes how to download a completed video file so it can be edited.

Chloe has sent me a lovely photo of all the grandchildren, which was taken by the school photographer. I am going to be with them all over Christmas, and I will travel to Worcester on Christmas Eve and return home on Boxing Day.

Monday. 6.45 a.m.  1st December, so Christmas is closer than ever. 

There is quite a strong wind raging outside as I write this.

The digital thermometer currently reads 20ºc.

Tuesday. 7.20 a.m. The raging wind has gone, thankfully.

The digital thermometer currently reads 20ºc.

I should have mentioned that yesterday I had another appointment with the nurse at Milton Keynes Central Medical Centre to try again for a blood sample. Unfortunately, it wasn't successful, so I have to go to the hospital and try there, where they can use an ultrasound scanner to find a vein. This is getting annoying, to say the least, as I don't want to go, what with the difficulty of parking my car and then walking to the relevant department.

10.00 a.m. I have been to the blood department at the hospital. It was easy enough to park in the multi-storey car park. You don't have to take a ticket. A machine takes a picture of your car's registration number. There were more than enough spaces, although I don't like these sorts of carparks. I don't like the slopes between floors.

I walked downstairs and then across the road and into the reception, and asked the receptionist to direct me to the blood department, and I soon found it and took a numbered ticket and sat for a while in the seated area and very soon my number was called, and I went into the room. The nurse was able to find a vein, and some blood was taken. Success! It was all over in a minute or so, and I was soon returning to my car and driving out. At the exit, you pay with your contactless debit card, and the barrier rises, and you drive away.

At the moment it is quite sunny.

2.40 p.m. I have just been to Lidl. The last time I was in there, I noticed they had Christmas trees, small, and ideal for my flat. They come in a metal pot, grown in soil and even have LCD lights which run on a battery and also a handful of decorations, so I've been to buy one. I also bought a Christmas jumper which has motion-activated flashing lights on it! I had been looking for something with lights on and with a Christmassy theme, so, ideal.

It remains sunny, and the digital thermometer currently reads 22ºc.

Autumnal Days

 Monday. 1.05 p.m. A new week. Currently, the digital thermometer reads 21ºc.

I have been to a Shakespeare session at Dovecote in Newport Pagnall. I used to go, quite some time ago, but for some reason, I stopped going. I think it was probably because the person who used to be in charge of the group left, but I made contact via the U3A website, hence today's session.

I haven't driven to Newport Pagnall for some time, and the road has been improved, and there are warehouses built on one side and houses being built on the other and a new roundabout on the main road which comes in from Bedford, with traffic lights which make it safer and easier.

Tuesday. 7.20 a.m. It is another dull and ordinary November day. The digital thermometer currently reads 21ºc, so , stuck at the same temperature recorded yesterday.

I have bought an Osmo Pocket 3 digital video camera. I am getting to know all the features, and, similar to the Pocket 2, which I also have, but with more features, including a touch screen which swivels round to turn the thing on and set up the camera.

1.55 p.m. I was scheduled to have blood taken this morning for a blood test. It's meant for my annual diabetic prevention review. I was due at the surgery at 10.55. I got there in plenty of time and, once logged in on the computer system, I had to go upstairs.

There was a problem with giving blood, and today was no exception. The nurse tried my right arm, but with no success. Then my left, but still, no success. I was somewhat annoyed, not with the nurse, who was incredibly patient and professional, but I just wanted the procedure done and out of the way. I have another attempt booked for 1st December. I just hope that this time it is successful.

As the saying goes, 'you can't get blood out of a stone.' Yes, but you can't get blood out of my arm. 

Wednesday. 12.55 p.m. I went to Sainsbury's after 9 this morning, but there was ice on all the windows of the car, so I spent around 10 minutes scraping it off before driving away. It has been sunny for most of the morning, even there it was cold. The digital thermometer currently reads 23ºc.

No-vember!

 Wednesday. 7.30 a.m. A somewhat wintry morning here in Milton Keynes. Rain with snow mixed in, which I noticed as I looked out of the kitchen window earlier. I doubt it will settle, but still icy and snowy.

The digital thermometer currently reads 21ºc.

I went to see the musical 'Mary Poppins' at Milton Keynes Theatre yesterday evening. I parked my car in the carpark near the Xcape and walked through to the theatre, but never expected to see a huge queue of customers waiting to enter the theatre. I purchased a programme and a souvenir brochure in the foyer and then went up several stories to my seat and entered at door 10. That area is called The Slips (don't ask me why. I have no idea. I got a really good view of the stage and actually a lot better than I expected, as, on the website, when I booked, it said 'restricted view.' An absolutely fantastic show, not a complete copy of the 1964 Disney film, with some dark moments in the plot. There are a lot of new songs, which blend in well with the film's original songs. The overall show was energetic, to say the least, very colourful, and the dance numbers were overwhelming. Mary Poppins flies out at one point, and at the end, flies off through the auditorium. I'm not entirely sure how this was achieved, but I imagine there is a cable running across the auditorium and the actor playing Mary Poppins wearing some sort of harness under her costume.

8.20 a.m. The snow has stopped falling, and there is a sprinkling of the white stuff across the community garden and on some of the cars in Dexter Avenue, including mine. I doubt it will remain

4.15 p.m. There is now absolutely no sign of snow. 

Thursday. 5.35 p.m. It has been bitterly cold today. There was some ice on the car windows when I drove off to go to Life Group this morning, but the sun melted it off, although I did wipe some mist off with a cloth.

Friday. 8.40 a.m. It's bright and sunny out this morning, but I doubt it's warm. The digital thermometer currently reads 21ºc.

I have my washing in the machine as I write. I plan to try making tomato soup again. The washing up is done, giving me space to work in the kitchen.

Saturday. 9.55 a.m. It's a bit wet and miserable this morning. I suppose you could say it's a typical November day. The digital thermometer currently reads 21ºc.

I've just come back from Sainsbury's. Nothing really much to report, but it's definitely the best time of the day to go there on a Saturday, as there are fewer shoppers about.

Sunday. 9.20 a.m. The sun is out this morning, although rather weakly. 

The digital thermometer currently reads 21ºc.

Nil November

 Wednesday. 10.25 a.m. Yesterday I didn't feel all that well. I had what seemed to be a migraine, which I rarely get. It seemed like the flu or possibly covid. This morning it seems to be gone, but it wasn't pleasant. A short time lying on my bed did help, but not entirely.

There was quite a heavy rainstorm early this morning, around the time I woke up, but at the moment, there is no sign of rain. The Environment Agency has declared a flood warning for Milton Keynes and the area, no doubt because the River Ouse flows through Newport Pagnall.

I've just come back from a shopping tip to Sainsbury's, and it looks as if Christmas, or at least, the run-up to the festive season, is in full swing. There are Christmas trees everywhere, of varying sizes and presents, or at least, the options for presents, very much in evidence.

Thursday. 4.10 p.m. I now have the bookcase I was given screwed securely to the wall. I am slowly moving the piles of books I have around the flat into the bookcase. I am so glad I was given this, and I have the chest of drawers parked in the entrance hall of the flat, and that will be moved into my bedroom once I have cleared a space on the furthest side of my bed.

Friday. 10.40 a.m. It's a bit miserable and wet. It's pouring with rain and not good out. Just as well it's rain and not tea or orange juice! I know, I'm silly, but after all, why not?

I'm gradually moving the piles of books into the new bookcase. The place looks so much better, but actually not particularly tidy!

Saturday. 12.25 p.m. It's a very grey and gloomy day. It makes me think of this poem, called 'November' and very appropriate for the sort of day it is. When I was at school, we learnt poetry and sometimes had to read it aloud.

No sun — no moon!
No morn — no noon —
No dawn — no dusk — no proper time of day.
 
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member —
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds! —
November!

It was written by Thomas Hood.

There is a fog, not exactly thick, but as I look out of the kitchen window, I can see that this fog is obscuring a good deal of the view. Some of it has been Tippexed out, as you would if you made a mistake on a typed letter, long before computers and word processing.

Happy Bunny!

 Friday. 8.35 a.m. I mentioned that I was having problems getting Blogger to work, so I could write more posts. The problem is now solved. I used to use Safari to work on my posts, but I realised that Google owns Blogger, so I used their browser, Chrome, and it works perfectly. It makes sense, as you would want all your products to work together.

Saturday. 9.20 a.m. It's the 1st of November. The sun is shining, but I'm not sure how warm it is out. I will go out later. I have a regular prayer triplet on WhatsApp at 10. 

The digital thermometer currently reads 23ºc.

2.45 p.m. For some reason, probably technical, Mike was not able to join the prayer triplet at 10 o'clock this morning, but my friend Richard was able to make it, and we had a long chat. Technology is great when it works, but it's not so good when it goes wrong and causes a certain amount of frustration and stress.

Tuesday. 1.50 p.m. It's quite mild and sunny at the moment. How long it's likely to last is anyone's guess.

The digital thermometer currently reads 24ºc.

I am currently transferring my writing into word processing, as I mentioned earlier in recent blog posts. I am editing as I go and adding new stuff. It's going well, and the fact that I leave it for a few days helps me to come up with new ideas. I'm cutting out a significant portion of what I originally wrote and rearranging the order in some cases.

Saturday. 11.15 a.m. It's unseasonably mild at the moment. The digital thermometer currently reads 23ºc.

We had our monthly men's breakfast this morning at the Oaktree Centre. As usual, plenty of eggs, bacon and all the trimmings and then a discussion around the table.

The trees are rapidly turning colour, a wide range of browns and yellows. The leaves are falling fast.

The Leaves Are Falling

 Wednesday. 8.15 a.m. It's my birthday today! I'm not giving away my age. If I asked my mother how old she was, she'd say, 'I'm as old as my tongue, but a little older than my teeth.' I never really understood this as a child, but I do now.

The weather is a bit wet. I think it might be raining as I write this. The digital thermometer currently reads 22ºc.

Thursday. 8.00 p.m. It's a somewhat wet and windy morning. There is a severe weather warning in place. I think it's a matter of 'batten down the hatches'! Probably more like 'prepare to launch the lifeboats!"

The digital thermometer currently reads 21ºc.

Friday. 9.10 a.m. I am waking up a good deal later than usual.

As I write this, the sun is shining, but as it's late October, it is likely to be chilly out.

Saturday. 8.00 a.m. The clocks go back tonight. I hope everyone at church remembers, or else some people will arrive one hour out.

The digital thermometer currently reads 22ºc.

Sunday. 9.20 a.m. It's bright and sunny as I write this. The digital thermometer stuck at 22º

Tuesday. 8.15 a.m. It's sunny, but not particularly warm. The digital thermometer is currently reading 24ºc.

3.45 p.m. Vashti, the S.H.O. here at Dexter House, told me yesterday that there was a bookcase left in one of the flats, because the tenant has moved to a care home. I went to have a look yesterday, and there was also a chest of drawers. The family of the tenant was happy for me to have both items, so this afternoon we have moved these bits of furniture into my flat. The bookcase is now residing in a convenient space behind the television, but it will need a screw put into the wall to prevent it from tipping over. I will have to ask someone at church if they could drill a hole to fix the bookcase. Meanwhile, the chest of drawers is parked in the entrance hall and can eventually be repositioned on the other side of my bed, but there is a considerable amount of stuff in the way, which will need to be removed before the chest of drawers can be moved.

Wednesday. 8.40 a.m. A rather dull and overcast morning here in Milton Keynes. A thin fog lays over the garden as I stood and did some washing up just a moment ago and gazed out. Not exactly inspiring nevertheless.  The digital thermometer currently reads 23ºc.

12.15 p.m. I had an appointment at around 10.30 to have a covid vaccine (I don't want to call it a 'jab' as it is never a jab as such.) I had to drive to Jardine's pharmacy in Benbow Court, in Shenley, just off the main road. I've been there before to have another shot of vaccine, so I knew where to go and park. I went into the chemist shop and had to fill in a form and then sit and wait. I was soon called into the consulting room and the shot didn't take long and it was put into the upper part of my right arm. Done, left and soon back at Dexter House, but for some odd reason I missed the Chaffron Way exit and came back further along Watling Street, although there was a bit of a traffic hold-up, caused by roadworks. There were lots of orange cones in the road, but we've come to expect this around the grid roads in Milton Keynes.

Down and Out!

 Tuesday. 7.10 a.m. My internet went down last night. At first, I thought it was a poor connection to the router, so I checked the thing, even did the turn-off and turn-on thing, but no result. I even thought that I might not have had enough in my bank account and a payment had been missed, but it wasn't that. I managed to open Google on my phone and discovered that the entire Vodafone network was down. Not just broadband, but also their mobile network. This at least was a relief, but it didn't help the fact that the broadband was out of operation. Fortunately, this morning I found that the broadband was back up and running.

Thursday. 1.45 p.m. For some weird reason, some days this blog is impossible to write on. I don't know why, but it means I can't write or do anything, which is the reason it has been patchy. I will write as much as I can, but it can be frustrating when I can't continue.

I won't be replacing Alfie with another dog. As much as I would like another one, it's not really a good idea. I loved him too bits, and he was absolutely no problem, but if I wanted to go away, for example, to Worcester, to visit my daughter, Chloe and the grandchildren, it was difficult to get someone to look after him. I did a search online and found that Yorkshire Terrier puppies cost anything from £1,500 to well over £2,500. I think, if I were going to get another dog, I'd get a dachshund. I'd get a short-haired one, which would be much easier to keep tidy.

Monday. 10.05 p.m. It's more than ever autumnal. The trees are turning brown. Throughout Milton Keynes, the trees are a mass of different colours, orange, red and in between.

The digital thermometer reads 23ºc as I write this post.

I have completed a long sequence of writing, transferred it to word processing.

Tuesday. 6.20 a.m. Yesterday evening, we had to endure about an hour of fireworks being let off, over on Oldbrook Green. Several notices are saying that fireworks should not be set off, but it obviously doesn't make a lot of difference to the individuals doing this. So, tell me, what is the point of having these notices if nobody in authority from Milton Keynes Council (or perhaps Campbell Park Parish Council) does something to stop it? There must be some bit of local legislation that demands fireworks to be stopped. Apart from anything, it upsets dogs and other animals in and around this area.

2.10 p.m. I've been out with my camera and walked around Oldbrook Green (or is it Park?) This was the first time I've been around there since Alfie died, and it was odd without him. There are the remains of fireworks on the green and signs put up around telling people that it is an offence to let of fireworks, under law, and you can be fined. Not that that would make any difference to those persons involved with last night's little session.

What The World Needs Now

 Wednesday. 10.35 a.m. A rather dull and overcast day. The digital thermometer reads 21ºc.

I've just come back from Sainsbury's. Halloween stuff is on the shelves, not that I have anything to do with it. But next to it all is a display of Christmas cards, and we're only just into October (today is 1st October.) I think it's so we are thinking about the festive season. Not that we're allowed to forget. I saw mince pies on sale last week. I expect there will be Christmas trees next.

Friday. 10.10 a.m. A rather wet morning. I'm so glad all the bulbs are planted. 

The digital thermometer currently reads 23ºc. Autumn has definitely arrived.

6.05 p.m. As I write, there is a strong wind blowing, which I noticed when I was in the kitchen and looked out of the window. 

Saturday. 3.05 p.m. There's quite a strong wind howling outside. Apparently, it is Storm Amy, or the tail end. I think this area of the country got off lightly.

Sunday. 7.25 a.m. It's peaceful this morning. No rain and no gale-force wind. The digital thermometer currently reads 21ºc.I have more or less finished the writing sequence I've been working on recently. It will now have to be transferred to word processing. As there are over 15 pages, it will take me some time. Then a heavy edit will be necessary.

Monday. 8.10 a.m. I didn't wake up until 7.20. That has to be the latest in a good long while.

The digital thermometer currently reads 22ºc. The sun is out, but it's not clear if it's cold outside. This time of year, it can be sunny, but then, when you go out, you find it is chilly.

Saturday. 1.10 p.m. I have been to have my flu vaccination this morning at Milton Keynes Central Medical Centre. As usual, I arrived in good time and signed in on the computerised system. I didn't have to wait long before my name came up on the digital screen.

Sunday. 2.20 p.m. Another rather indifferent autumn day. It's getting chilly. The digital thermometer currently reads 22ºc. I decided to wear a pullover to church, but then, partway through the service, I found I was too hot. 

I am currently transferring the handwritten material I have written into a word processing program. I am making changes as I write. I had mislaid a large amount of material, around 10-12 pages. I searched the flat and went through all the files and drawers without success, but yesterday it came to light, fortunately, so that it can be word processed.

Doggone!

 Saturday. 6.30 a.m. It's really strange, waking up as usual, but not having a small dog to take out. Alfie has been such a central part of my life, and then to suddenly lose him is a shock.

We got Alfie after we went to Crufts. Carol was spontaneous, and we often did things on the spur of the moment. So, we got tickets and went. It was at the NEC near Birmingham (National Exhibition Centre). We watched some agility displays, and one of the dogs was a Yorkshire Terrier, so afterwards, Carol said, 'Shall we get a Yorkshire Terrier?' I said 'Okay.' So we got Alfie from a breeder near March in Cambridgeshire. We already had Poppy, who was a schitzu/Westie cross. Carol had her before we met in 2006. Then we had some rather difficult situations when Alfie was brought home and introduced to Poppy. All went fine for a day or two, but then Poppy was very clear on what Alfie's place was in the house. A lot of growling and 'I'm the boss' type behaviour. But it soon settled down. There were some really amusing situations, usually in the evening. The two dogs would charge around the house, through the kitchen, then the front hall and then into the lounge, and round and round, jumping on the sofa, over our legs if they were in the way. It was just crazy and funny.

Alfie was easy to house train. There really were no problems in that area. We took both dogs out for lots of walks. One of our favourite places was Rushmere Country Park, which is near Leighton Buzzard, a short journey south on the A5. We took Alfie with us during the Autumn and, walking along one of the paths, which were covered with leaves, Alfie got some caught in his coat. He kept stopping to pull them out with his mouth. It was hilarious. On another occasion, we took both dogs for a walk along the Grand Union Canal, which runs through Milton Keynes.. We let them off their leads, and they ran about. There was a low wall, which Alfie decided to jump over, and as a result, he landed in the canal! I had to drag him out, sopping wet, and he looked like a drowned rat!

Tuesday. 8.40 a.m. It's a bright and sunny morning. The digital thermometer currently reads 23ºc. 

I have been tidying the flat. I got around half of the floor mopped. It's a complex process, because I have to move furniture before I can get to some areas. I've had to move the sofa, so I can move my office chair so I can sweep and then mop under the desk. The television had to move to allow me to sweep and mop behind it. I have done the floor in front of the television. I will leave the other half of the room for another day.

11.45 a.m. I have now planted the remaining daffodil bulbs in the garden at Dexter House.

My writing continues. The sequence is not yet complete, but it is getting there.

The Land Where The Bong Trees Grow

 Tuesday. 7.30 a.m. I know, the title is crazy and will have nothing whatever to do with the contents of this post. But why not?

12.25 p.m. It's bright and sunny today. It may look warm and inviting, but I think it's likely to be cold outside. The digital thermometer currently reads 24 ºC.

I have had a visit from some Council staff, doing a survey about my impressions of living in Dexter House and other matters. I really don't see the point of all this. I seem to get sent endless surveys, although there is the incentive of possibly winning a draw for £150.

I have been continuing with my writing. I have spent a lot of time researching so that the information is accurate and convincing.

Thursday. 7.10 a.m. Alfie died last night. I'm devastated. He's been a huge part of my life. He has been a real companion and a source of support since Carol's death. Not only that, but he adapted so well when I moved to the flat. What more can I say? He has been mentioned so much in these posts. 

12.10 p.m. I rang the vet at 8.30 and took Alfie to be cremated. I needed to get this done as soon as possible. I don't like leaving things that need doing undone. I can relax now, even though it was heartbreaking. It is odd coming back to a flat without him there. I will give his things, bowls, and remaining food to a couple at church who have dogs.

Friday, 7.10 a.m. So, the first morning waking up without Alfie. It's strange, as there's none of his sounds, the hollow breathing, his tap-tap-tap of his feet on the floor. It will take a lot of adjusting.

Yesterday afternoon I went for lunch with my friends Mike and Margaret. On the way back, and driving along the part of Chaffron Way running past Oldbrook, I noticed that there was one of those digital displays that tells you to slow down. It has a smiley face that comes on when you reach the correct speed. The whole section has been resurfaced, and the speed limit has been reduced to 40. But then, when you go further on, past Eaglestone and on to the roundabout on Marlborough Street, there is no 40 M.P.H speed limit. Then, along Saxon Street, running past the Milton Keynes Academy and Milton Keynes Hospital, there is a further 40 M.P.H. speed limit, which a lot of people ignore, or pretend to, because when I have turned off the roundabout, there is almost always a car directly behind me, attempting, or so it seems to me, to get me to speed up.

A Little Of What You Fancy

 Friday. 2.20 p.m. Goodness gracious! It's hot out, the sun is shining! Whatever's next? The digital thermometer currently reads 28ºC.

I've been to Lidl. Again, wrestling with the horrible self-service till I was attempting to use it. The thing was being thoroughly awkward. I really hate the things, and I don't suppose I'm the only person to think so.

Saturday. 7.50 a.m. I didn't wake until quite late, which is totally unlike me. If I do wake up in the night, I am usually able to get back to sleep.

'Mary Poppins: The Musical' is currently on tour and is visiting Milton Keynes in November. I really wanted to see it, and Carol loved the film. I remember being taken to London by my mother and going to see it when it came out around 1964-5. At the time, I didn't know about the books by P.L. Travers, on which the film was based, probably because the books had a more female-oriented audience. Anyway, because I wanted to see the musical, I went on the Milton Keynes Theatre website and found that the tickets were somewhat expensive. I can't really justify paying around £65-£70 for a ticket, so I was somewhat disappointed. But this morning I had another look and I have bought a ticket for £25, but the seat isn't in a particularly good position in the auditorium, in what is called The Slips, which is, I think, right up in the top tier, but never mind. I will go in memory of Carol, but as I love theatre, it will be a well-earned treat.

The last time I went to see a show at the Milton Keynes Theatre was around 2019, to see 'Les Misérables', a show I  originally saw in the West End, when it was playing at the Palace Theatre. I went with a friend on a coach into central London, but, surprisingly, the driver didn't know his way around the West End, so it ended up with me directing him to the theatre! Amazing that the coach company employed a driver who had no idea where he was going! It's incredible to think that 'Les Misérables' is currently celebrating its 40th anniversary.

Monday. 7.40 a.m. It's bright and sunny at the moment. The digital thermometer currently reads 23ºC. Alfie is under my bed, and it's difficult to reach him, so I will wait until he decides to come out before taking him out.

12.35 p.m. I had a voucher to spend in Marks and Spencer, as a result of doing online surveys. I wanted a long sleeve Rugby shirt, as I already had two and, with colder weather coming up soon, or, at least the likelihood, it seemed a good idea to buy. I went onto the Marks and Spencer website and chose the one I wanted, entered the code from the voucher, and ordered. I had an email this morning telling me that my order was ready for collection, so I went into the MK Centre to collect my parcel from M and S.

Fiddlesticks!

 Wednesday. 9.40 a.m. Well, another soggy day in fun city, Milton Keynes. The days are beginning to draw in as autumn catches hold.

The digital thermometer currently reads 24ºC.

I wanted to use my Canon printer, but the ink cartridge was more or less finished. When I attempted to print something the other day, it came out very faint, so I suspected that a replacement was necessary. I have this morning ordered one on the Argos website and gone to collect it after 9. I am now back in the flat, and the cartridge is installed in the printer.

Alfie is asleep in this bed. I am taking him to The Groom Room for an appointment at 11 a.m. I have already put the cage in the back of the car, ready to take him.

7.30 p.m. I came back from taking Alfie to The Groom Room, and hoped to have a cup of tea. I went to the fridge and found it was thawing out. How this happened, I have no idea, but all the contents of the freezer part have thawed and, as a consequence, can't be used. After the incident which happened a few weeks ago, when my chopping board and the handle of my best sharp knife melted because one of the rings on the ceramic surface of my oven was accidentally turned on, this was something which I hoped would never happen. As a result of the oven incident, I now turn the oven off at the wall point, but this doesn't explain how the fridge/freezer was turned off. It means I will have to throw away more or less the entire contents.

Thursday. 2.40 p.m. It's another very autumnal day. It's mild but bright. The digital thermometer currently reads 26ºC.

I have been to Sainsbury's and have bought my shopping home; it has been checked off, and two of the freezer drawers have been cleared out. It's not good to eat food that has been frozen, re-frozen and then thawed, as it would make me ill if I ate it, so I have accepted that it is wasted and put what I bought in Sainsbury's in the freezer.

Friday. 1.45 a.m. I couldn't sleep. Alfie was snoring like crazy and was sleeping on the floor, right in the middle of the threshold of my bedroom. The usual thing that wakes me is a need to visit the bathroom. (A thought: why do Americans always refer to the toilet as the bathroom? It just sounds so pathetic, a euphemism.  A bit like the Victorians covering the legs of furniture. Why don't they just say toilet and be done with it? The other one, said by women, is 'I'm going to powder my nose', when in actual fact, they're going to the loo.) Anyway, I couldn't get back to sleep, so I decided to make myself a coffee and watch something on television. With such things as BBC iPlayer, Netflix and other streaming platforms, you are really spoilt for choice. I went on iPlayer and decided to watch one of my favourite sitcoms, 'My Family', which stars Zoe Wanamaker and Robert Lindsay. The actual sitcom is rather mediocre, but it is the acting of these two which makes it worth watching.

First Catch Your Dog!

 Saturday. 7.35 a.m. Alfie did his hiding act, so I had breakfast first, and then he made an appearance, so I gathered him up and we went out.

As I write this, the sun is out. The digital thermometer currently reads 23ºC.

11.40 p.m. We had the monthly Men's Breakfast at The Oaktree Centre, which started at 9a.m. There were a good many people there and a few relatively new faces, which was good. I mentioned needing help to plant some of the daffodil bulbs, and someone has agreed to assist. We are scheduled to do some of this planting on Thursday afternoon.

1.50 p.m. I'm currently in the middle of making tomato soup in the soup maker. It should take around 15 minutes to finish. If it comes out as well as the chicken soup, I shall be more than pleased.

Sunday. 4.30 p.m. The tomato soup came out better than I could have expected. Some of it has been frozen, and I can defrost it when I want some soup, probably when the weather becomes colder.

I took Alfie out into the community garden, but we didn't stay in there long, as it was raining, and it's still raining as I write this.

Currently, the digital thermometer reads 24ºC.

Monday. 8.25 a.m. It's sunny and bright, but there's a gusty wind blowing. I have a feeling we're in for rain sometime today.

As I write this, Alfie has not been out since he's under the bed, and it's impossible to get hold of him

The digital thermometer currently reads 22ºC.

12.50 p.m. Alfie did eventually appear from under the bed, and I scooped him up and took him out to the garden.

The wind continued . . .

Tuesday. 10.05 a.m. It's a bright but not particularly sunny morning. At least the wind has finished howling around the place.

The digital thermometer currently reads 25ºC. 

Alfie slept on his bed next to mine last night, so it was easy enough to pick him up and take him out.

Bright And Early

 Tuesday. 7.35 a.m. It's sunny and relatively warm. The digital thermometer currently reads 25ºc. 

9.55 a.m. I have been out in the community garden, planting a few of the bulbs. It is far easier now that I have the trowel and hand fork.

Wednesday. 8.05 a.m. A somewhat flat and uninteresting sort of morning. Probably best described as 'overcast.' The digital thermometer currently reads 24ºc.

I have bought a Morphy Richards soup maker. I have been considering getting one for a while, because Carol and I had one when we lived in Eaglestone. I don't know what happened to it, because moving from there to Dexter House was so difficult. It was great to make homemade soup and try out different ingredients, and it was so easy to use. This one seems a good deal more versatile, and you can make smoothies in it. This was purchased from Very, the online retailer. The thing arrived yesterday evening. I am currently trying it out. You have to clean it before use, according to the instruction manual. It has a setting for automatic cleaning,  as you can't wash it in the sink because of the electrical parts.

2.05 p.m. I had to get some shopping, so I went to Lidl, but when I got outside, I found it was raining. Not very hard, but still enough to get wet. 

I have made a raspberry smoothie in the soup-making machine. Before you ask, yes, you can make smoothies in it. I had frozen raspberries in the freezer, so I took them out yesterday evening, and they were sufficiently defrosted to make a smoothie. I bought raspberry yoghurt in Lidl and, along with some milk, put it all in the machine, and after barely 5 minutes, I had a delicious smoothie! I worked really well, and I will have to experiment with the thing to do more smoothies and soups.

Thursday. 7.10 a.m. Alfie hasn't been out yet. He's under my bed, and it's impossible to get at him. 

The digital thermometer currently reads 22ºc.

9.10 a.m. Alfie was found on his bed, so I was able to grab him and take him out at last. He's currently wandering around the flat.

The sun is out. For how long, I wonder? Will there be another rainstorm before the day is over?

4.15 p.m. It's sunny at the moment, but it's also windy. Fortunately, no rain, although we do need some.

Friday. 8.15 a.m. A bright and sunny morning. The digital thermometer currently reads 22ºc.

I have my laundry in the washing machine. It should have finished its cycle at around 8.50. I will be going to Sainsbury's once that is complete. 

4.25 p.m. My washing was dry, and it was all put away. I then went to Sainsbury's, basically because my Lidl trip yesterday didn't allow me to buy one or two things. I was somewhat surprised to discover mince pies on sale. It really does defy logic that you would sell something which is a key ingredient in a household's food at Christmas, would be on sale in September and would most likely be inedible, or, at least, well past its best, at the beginning of the festive season. Do Sainsbury's expect their customers to hoard them? Or even, dare I say, eat them?

I have now made chicken soup in the new soup-making machine. It has come out so much better than I expected. Really tasty and inspires me to make more, and I will have to find a book of recipes to increase my soup-making repertoire.

There was a roll of thunder as I was busy making soup, but it didn't develop into anything major. Not even a slight rainstorm.

Things My Mother Said

Sunday. 8.25 a.m. It's amazing, as a child,  you trust your parents completely. My mother would say things which I believed, and you never argued with a grown-up! One of her favourite sayings, if she was asked to do something which she obviously didn't want to, would get the response, 'I can't, because I have a bone in my leg.' Thinking about it as an adult, that doesn't really make a lot of sense, because we all have a 'bone 'in our legs; otherwise, how do we stand or walk?  As a child, you don't see the logic in such a saying.

Something else she said, and probably a lot of parents say something similar to their children, would be, 'Eat your greens. If you do, your hair won't go curly.' Another might be, 'if you don't smile, the milk will go sour.'

It was the same with the crusts on bread. You were supposed to eat them; otherwise, you won't grow tall, or something equally ridiculous. I had no problem with that, because I was tall before I was a teenager, so it didn't make any difference, and I always ate the crusts.

In my home, there was a rule. At tea-time, it was always 'bread before cake.'  'You can't get down from the table until everyone has finished'. Which could be a long time, as I had four other brothers, as well as my mother and father.

If you asked my mother, 'How old are you?' she would invariably say something like '99.' That didn't make any sense. I had an ancient great aunt. At the time, probably in her late 80s. I think she died when she was around 95. My mother certainly appeared 99, while my great aunt definitely seemed ancient. To make it even more baffling, my mother would tell me my great aunt was 21!

The Cow Jumped Over The Moon

 Saturday. 9.15 a.m. I was due to take Alfie out, as usual. But there was a slight problem. Slight being the operative word; I couldn't find him. It turned out he was under my bed. Problem two: Having to get down on the floor is quite a problem for me. I left this until around 8.45 as I thought it was important that he went out. Eventually, I caught sight of his tail and grabbed him. I felt sorry for the old boy, as he was fast asleep.

Sunday. 3.15 p.m. We had Café Church this morning. That means that there wasn't a time of worship, but fellowship, allowing everyone to interact with one another, eat cake, drink tea and coffee and generally have a good time. It allows those who probably don't attend a church to come along and find out more about Shenley Christian Fellowship and discover that it's a friendly place. 

I arrived as I usually do on a Sunday and discovered that the place was locked.  At first, I had a thought that perhaps I was an hour to early, a bit like when the clocks change and we lose or gain an hour. But it wasn't that.   There are usually people there, some setting up refreshments and the band rehearsing in the main hall. Julie, who is one of the leaders at SCF, was sitting in her car. She couldn't open up the building, as she didn't have a key and also had no idea how to switch off the alarm system.

Monday. 9.55 a.m. Warm and pleasantly sunny. The temperature is currently 27ºc according to the digital thermometer.

Time to sort recycling. Not the most exciting of jobs, but it needs to be done, otherwise my cupboard overflows. Some of the cartons are difficult to either fold or tear. I have two plastic bins of recycling and one black bin of other household rubbish. I carry the black bin, together with one plastic bin, take it to the bin store, open the first door and leave the two items in the inner room and then go back for the remaining bin. I then return to the bin store and open the outer door, and then discover the row of bins for recycling are full and there's no room for my two worth of recycling! I put the black bag in another allocated bin and then haul the two full plastic bins of recycling back to the flat. I will now have to leave it where they are until tomorrow, after the bin men come and empty the bins and then return to deposit my two bins with the recycling in the, hopefully, empty bins. What a performance!

Alfie is currently fast asleep on the kitchen floor and somewhat in the way when I am sorting the rubbish, but it doesn't matter as I can step over him. He snores, and it is somewhat amusing.

3.35 p.m.Vashti, the S.H.O. at Dexter House, told me that I ought to take my rubbish to the bin store at the other end of Dexter House. I had never thought of it, but I have now got rid of it, and we aren't apparently getting a visit from the bin men tomorrow. Do I get the feeling that they are only doing collections fortnightly? If so, we're likely to be overflowing with rubbish, recycling, etc.

We are only having Vashti here for half of the week. It's due to Milton Keynes Council running out of money and deciding that sheltered housing will have to cut its staff's hours in each unit. Vashti will be here in the afternoons and cover other units for the rest of the time. This makes sense now. The Council is run by Labour, in a coalition with Liberal Democrats. Labour is useless at financial management. Just look at the current Starmer government. Total disaster, and we're heading for a bailout from the International Monetary Fund, a replay of the 1970s when we had to go cap in hand to sort our economy out, and Labour had to make cuts to various services, and inflation went through the roof, and we had the infamous 'Winter of discontent.' I remember dustbin workers striking and going into London and seeing black bin bags piled up at the side of the road, the three-day week, shortages of things in supermarkets and television closing down at 10.30 because the miners and electricity workers walked out. They say, history repeats itself, but that's so true. 

Wild and Windy

 Wednesday. 7.30 a.m. The weather has changed for the worse. It's really windy and wet out this morning. 

Thursday. 7.25 a.m. A shade murky this morning. The digital thermometer currently reads 23ºc.

Yesterday, I went to my friend Mike, who has Parkinson's, whilst his wife Margaret went to a meeting. Driving there, I had to cross Marlborough Street, and roadworks were going on, with red barriers up. I'm not exactly clear what they're doing, but, as there's been a lot of resurfacing work going on across Milton Keynes recently, I thought it might be something to do with that. On the way back after 4 o'clock, I came up Chaffron Way and got to the roundabout crossing Marlborough Street. I would normally have continued on along Chaffron Way, but it was closed off, so I had to turn left into Marlborough Street and continue on and round near the hospital and on to Oldbrook and home. I realise they have to do maintenance of the road system, but you very rarely get an advance warning of these works, and then have to do a somewhat circuitous detour around the place to get to wherever you were intending to go.

We were told that a yellow weather warning was in place yesterday. The possibility of torrential rain and then flash flooding. It started to get dark when I was at Mike and Margaret's, and then it began to rain, but certainly not the heavy rain as forecast. It was over in around 10 minutes, and then the sun came out. Driving home, there was absolutely no sign that it had been raining. No puddles, nothing. We were watching television, which is supplied by Freesat. The television signal began to break up, and for a while it shut down completely. It came back eventually.

Friday. 1.45 p.m. I had ordered a trowel on Amazon, as I mentioned a day or two ago. Unfortunately, for some reason, it had to be signed for. You had to be over 18. Well, I'm well over 18! It was supposed to have been delivered on Wednesday, and I was expecting it to come during the evening. I got a message from Amazon to tell me that they had attempted to deliver it at around 3 p.m., but couldn't deliver it because there was no answer. Well, I was sitting with Mike at that time, and then they said it would come yesterday at 1 p.m. I was out again! I gave up and cancelled the trowel and should get a refund. I can't think why you would need to sign for the thing. I can understand if it was a knife, but a trowel? Hardly a dangerous item. You could hardly use it to stab someone. I do realise they have a responsibility for making sure some items don't get into the wrong hands. But a trowel?? So, this morning I went to The Range and bought a trowel and a hand fork. I only wish now that I had gone there in the first place.

Walking On Sunshine

 Monday. 11.50 a.m. So, here we are in another month, September. Supposedly the meteorological start of autumn, it's sunny as I write this, but it has been quite gusty, and it rained on Saturday.

Well, returning to my outing to the Buckinghamshire Agricultural Show, I drove towards Aylesbury and out on the road I knew towards Wing. I drove through Bierton but came to a grinding halt. I thought, not surprisingly, that it was due to an accident or maybe roadworks. I have driven this route on many occasions, and it has usually been a fairly straightforward piece of road. Now, for some strange reason, there was what's called 'traffic-calming' in place. This comprised a series of what I can only describe as half barriers in the road (I have since learned that these are called chicanes), which meant, the traffic from each direction had to wait until vehicles from the opposite direction had priority, and then, when that had cleared, you could drive forward. Which meant, if there was a large amount of traffic, then you had to wait longer, and because of these barriers, which were at around 200–300 yards, the tailback would get longer and longer. All I can say is, it's more annoying and is poorly thought out and designed. It must be infuriating if you had to go through this stretch of road regularly, or if you had to use it several times during the day.

Oh, dear. I spoke too soon. There's just been a clap of thunder. 

The rainstorm didn't last. It was over in a matter of minutes.

Tuesday. 9.50 a.m. it's sort of mild and sunny. Not really sure whether it's anything much.

The digital thermometer reads 25ºc.

I have been out in the garden and experimented with the bulb planter. It's easy enough to use, but then you have to put the earth back in the hole. I think I need a trowel for that job.

4.45 p.m. I have ordered a trowel from Amazon. It should be delivered tomorrow. I think there are plenty of places in the garden here at Dexter House for more bulbs to be planted, but I would like a certain amount to go around The Oaktree Centre.

Time and Tide

 Tuesday. 10.35 a.m. I woke a good deal later than normal. I had to wake Alfie as he was asleep when I needed to take him out.

I have now bought my ticket for the Buckinghamshire Agricultural Show on Thursday. It's easy enough to do this online and then print it out. It has a QR code on it, which will be scanned to let me into the ground.

Wednesday. 6.40 a.m. I've been out with Alfie. He insisted on going under the bed, but then I grabbed him and we went out. I was somewhat surprised by all the leaves on the grass. A definite sign that autumn is on the way. It is considerably cooler. The digital thermometer currently reads 23ºc.

Thursday. 1.05 a.m. Here I am, wide awake, and I've just been watching GB News. I can't believe this: Ofgem has just said that fuel prices, and I'm talking about gas and electricity here, by 2%. This levy is being used to pay for wind farms to be switched off when there is too much wind. (I know, you couldn't make this up!) because the infrastructure isn't there to cope with the power that is produced. This is straight out of Lewis Carroll or Monty Python. So, in that case, what is the point of these hugely expensive turbines, which litter our countryside? How on earth did we get to this crazy situation?

Thursday. 7.25 a.m. It's bright and sunny! I just hope it stays that way, because I'm going to the Buckinghamshire Show. It opens to the public at 8 o'clock, but I don't see the point of getting there too early.

The digital thermometer currently reads 21ºc, so the temperature is gradually going down as the days go by.

1.05 p.m. I've been to the show. I made a bit of a mess-up of the journey and eventually stopped to set up Google Maps on my phone, but it took me to the wrong entrance of the show ground, so I had to turn round and get in the queue of cars further on to then park in a vast field. It was quite a walk to the entrance to the showground, and I had to have my printed ticket scanned to get in.

I next got my show catalogue, again, having my ticket scanned and then a wander around the various stalls. Inside a marquee with lots of food! Cheese in particular, and alcoholic drinks. I tried some mead at one of the medieval fairs, which were held at Bradwell Abbey, and I liked it, so I was hoping that there might have been a stall selling it, but no luck. (Another medieval fayre coming up in September this year, so something to go to.)

There was a lot to see and do. In fact, probably far too much. 

I wandered along several of the avenues and browsed the items for sale. A great deal of stalls connected to many aspects of agriculture, as you would expect, but quite a few which had nothing which was in any way, shape or form connected to agriculture. I went into one tent, which had food and drink for sale. A lot of cheese, gin, wine, meat pies and a good deal more. I didn't buy anything in there.

I found a stall selling bulbs of all types. (I am referring to plant bulbs here and not the electronic variety.) I have been considering for quite a while how I can have some sort of commemoration for Carol. One idea might be to plant some trees, and I have been looking into that. But where should they be put? The other idea was to plant some daffodil bulbs, because Carol loved them and I have always attempted to buy them when they are available where I shop, usually Sainsbury's. Looking around this particular display, I found daffodil bulbs and thought I'd buy them, but leave it until I'm about to leave the show ground to go home, because otherwise I would have to carry them around all day, which would be a real problem.

One of the main reasons for coming to the show was to see the animals. I walked in the direction of the countryside area. The area wasn't just about animals. There was a display of thatching, hedging and farriery (horse shoeing). We had horses on the farm, and a farrier used to visit regularly. I remember when he did, and had his forge up and running, the cattle, which were in the nearby field, used to come up to the fence to watch. Cows are such inquisitive creatures. 

I wandered along the cattle lines. Many had already been judged, but it was great to see highland cattle, with their beautiful, long coats and horns. Further on, horses, then sheep. 

One of the best things I saw at the show had to be the tiny tots, some probably no more than 5 or 6, in perfectly white coats, showing sheep in one of the rings, no doubt to win a prize or rosette of some sort. They all concentrated very hard, the sheep they led very well turned out, clean, groomed and in good condition.

I walked on a little further and came to a ring with people on white chairs sitting and watching something going on in the ring. It was a display of sheepdogs, doing their job of herding sheep. I have seen this on television, but never  'live', like this. I was intrigued, and it was fascinating, and those dogs were absolutely brilliant.

I walked on, returning to the rest of the show ground. It was about now that I needed a sit-down and a drink. But where? There was plenty of choice. Last time I came to the show, in 2019, I discovered a tent which offered all of that. It was run by local churches. I found it again today, and it was really busy. Not surprisingly, because there was an amazing selection of cakes and tea! All of it free! I managed to find somewhere to sit, which wasn't easy, as all the tables were taken.

I found a stall run by the Protestant Alliance, and what drew my attention was a picture of William Tyndale, as it's the 500th anniversary this year of the publication of his translation of the New Testament, As I have several ancestors who were historic figures related to Protestism, including John Wycliffe and John Knox, it led me to have a long conversation with a young man at the front of the stall, and we went on to discuss Bedford, where he came from.

From there, I found a fantastic stall which was selling model tractors and other farming equipment. It turns out that they sell mostly to adults who keep them in display cases or on shelves and they never get played with. I do like them, but there isn't room in my flat for such things.

I came across a stall entirely devoted to beekeeping. They had a display in a case of a hive of bees, which always fascinates me. I bought some honey (no, not wrapped up in a Five Pound note, as in The Owl and the Pussy Cat' poem by Edward Lear.)

It was at this point that I had reached the stall selling the various varieties of bulbs and bought a sizeable bag of daffodil bulbs for £7, and it was then that I thought it was time to leave and go home

My next problem was finding my car. But by luck more than anything else, I did manage to find it, but when I went to leave the car park, I could not see any signs to the exit and ended up at the completely wrong place, which was being controlled by traffic lights and a steward who helped me get out onto the road and then back to Milton Keynes.

A Liitle Hitch In The System

 Wednesday. 1.50 p.m. It's considerably cooler today. The digital thermometer currently reads 22ºc.

Friday. 6.15 a.m. It's even cooler today. It's becoming increasingly autumnal as the days pass by. The infamous digital thermometer currently reads 20ºc.

I had more fun discovering Alfie's whereabouts. Under my bed for most of the night.

Saturday. 7.00 a.m. I've got the gimbal to calibrate at last, which means I should be able to go out and do some filming. It has been a long process, but it should be worth it. 

Another somewhat mild and rather overcast sort of day. The digital thermometer reads 22ºc.

Sunday. 6.55 p.m. I do like cider. I have tried several brands. I bought a few bottles of alcohol-free cider in Lidl the other week and stored it in my fridge. I thought I'd have some with my meal this evening and took the bottle out, which was right at the back of the fridge. It was covered in ice, and it seemed to be iced up inside. I had to chip some of the ice off the base of the bottle so I could stand it on a surface to open it with my bottle opener. Some mist came out of the bottle! I tried to pour out the contents, but only a dribble came out. I have left the bottle on the kitchen work surface. What do I make of this? I will have to check the temperature of the fridge. I don't want the other bottles of cider in there to freeze.

Monday. 10.40 a.m. It's a Bank Holiday. Yippee! Not that it makes much difference to me. I have sorted the recycling, and three bins have gone out to the bin yard. One black bin and two other containers filled with recycling.

I attempted another session with the camera on the gimbal, but then the camera came up with the message, 'battery exhausted', so I gave up, and the battery is currently being charged, along with a spare. All the fiddling with the gimbal is responsible for this, and the batteries only last for 90 minutes.

I ordered a couple of new batteries and a charger unit for my Canon camera on Amazon early on Saturday morning, and I was hoping it would arrive yesterday evening, but then I found out on the Amazon website that there had been a problem, and it would arrive on Wednesday. So, I feel somewhat annoyed, because the idea was that I was going to the Buckinghamshire Agricultural Show on Thursday, and I intended to take the Canon camera with me.

4.50 p.m. The battery charger and batteries arrived mid-morning. I was somewhat surprised, having been informed that the parcel wouldn't be delivered until Wednesday at the latest. The thing has been working, and I have the batteries charged. Thankfully, that is completed.

It's been warm and sunny today. Good weather for a Bank Holiday. The digital thermometer reads 26ºc.

Earwi' Go Again!

Tuesday. 6.30 a.m. Alfie has two lovely, comfortable and warm beds. One is in the lounge, behind the television, and the other is in the bedroom. But, for some strange reason, he decides to sleep on the floor. It can't be comfortable.

Thursday. 5.50 a.m. I'm awake (fancy that!) and thought it might be a good idea to put some thoughts on my blog. 

Alfie is doing his hiding act. I have a feeling he's under my bed. He will appear sooner or later.

6.45 a.m. Alfie did eventually show himself, and we went out on the grass along Strudwick Drive.

Someone in Oldbrook has chickens in their garden. Well, let's be perfectly honest, where else would you keep them? So, how do I know? Because I can hear a cockerel that crows regularly, and it seems to be coming from the direction of Century Avenue. Also, I get the vague sound of clucking, all heard when I go out with Alfie. Do the people who own them collect and eat the eggs? Do the chickens actually lay fertile eggs that become chicks?

When I went to Worcester at Easter, we went to Steve's brother's home, and he had chickens in his garden. It's good to let children have time with animals, such as pet dogs, cats and chickens (other pets are available) because it teaches them to be responsible, feeding them, cleaning them out and generally looking after them. 

Friday. 9.40 a.m. Yet another bright and sunny morning. The digital thermometer currently reads 27ºc.

Saturday. 4.30 p.m. Not a great deal is going on today. The weather remains mild, not sunny, or wet, just somewhat overcast. Fortunately, no sign of rain at present, but we could do with a good downpour because everything looks so parched.

Currently, the digital thermometer reads 25ºc, so a couple of degrees colder than yesterday.

Sunday. 2.10 p.m. A sunny day, with the digital thermometer currently reading 25ºc, so slowly going down from several days ago.

I think I might have managed to get the DJI gimbal set up. It's taken a great deal of time, effort and patience. Now I want to go out and actually use it with the Sony camera. I do hope so.

Monday 12.05 p.m.  It's another mild day, with the thermometer reading 23ºc.

I have tentatively tested the camera on the gimbal, and I'm pleased to say . . . it works!

4.15 p.m. I lost Alfie again. This is becoming a bit of a habit of his. I eventually found him in a small space behind the television. As he wasn't going to come out backwards, I just had to pick him up in one move. It was quite difficult, considering the space he was in. It's just as well he's a small dog. I could never have managed if he'd been an Irish Wolf Hound, Dalmatian, Collie or Labrador.

Life At Home- Part 3

 There was a piano in the house. I have an idea it was a Steinway, which is supposed to be one of the best makers of pianos. It was an upright. My brother, Robert, was a proficient player and had passed several grades at school. My grandmother, Ferriman, was also a good piano player. She used to play at the annual village Christmas parties, which were held in the parish rooms every December. I do remember that she also had a piano in the lounge at Mill Farm, and on the music stand she had music scores for several well-known musicals, such as 'My Fair Lady' and 'Salad Days', which is the only musical I ever worked on when I was an ASM at the Everyman Theatre in Cheltenham. 

I mentioned in an earlier post that my mother had a drawer full of such things as paper bags, string, elastic bands, and so on. She also had a button box, stuffed full of buttons. It was always referred to as the Queen and Prince Philip tin, because it had HM Queen Elizabeth and the Duke of Edinburgh on the lid. I think it might have been full of biscuits at one time and probably a souvenir of the Queen's coronation in 1953 or even her marriage to the Duke of Edinburgh in 1947. I often wondered where all those buttons came from. Perhaps from clothes that got worn out, and the buttons were removed. If we required a button, we always knew where to find one. Another hangover from the war was a 'make-do-and-mend' culture.

Christmas was shared between three families: my family, when we lived at Malting Farm, my uncle and aunt, Gemma and Michael Ferriman, at Mill Farm and then my Kendall aunt and uncle at Church Farm at Eyeworth, near Sandy. There was always a lot to eat. We used to go to each one in the afternoon of Christmas Day, after we had lunch. Whoever was hosting did the main 'eats' and the guests bought such things as trifles, puddings, mince pies and so on. My mother made a simply amazing trifle, using confectioners' custard, which in itself was quite difficult to make, using eggs and goodness knows what else and probably the base of the thing would be home-made Swiss roll or sponge, drenched in real sherry. 

My father could be a real snob regarding sherry. He always insisted on having Bristol Cream, which is one of the leading brands. But my mother bought in cooking sherry from the local shop and kept it in the Bristol Cream bottle for when she used it in trifle. One morning, my father had a visitor, Percy Brocklehurst, who used to do a lot of electrical work for my parents. They sat in the kitchen, drinking sherry. My mother was probably in the next room, most likely sewing or knitting. She could hear the conversation going on in the kitchen. My father said, 'This is probably the best sherry. You can't beat Bristol Cream!' My mother had a bit of a laugh to herself when she knew well that the 'Bristol Cream' they were drinking was actually cheap and cheerful cooking sherry!

Tea was at around 4 o'clock at home. My mother's cakes were very much regarded by visitors. She made a wide range, from the classic Victoria sponge to traditional shortbread, which I believe was made to a recipe handed down from one of my elderly aunts. This was made in a round tin and she used her fingers to imprint the design around the edge, and once cooked, it was taken out of the tin in triangles, with sugar sprinkled on the top.

People always seemed to turn up at the farmhouse just as tea was being served in the kitchen. Because it was a farm, there were a number of company reps who used to do business with my father, Banks of Sandy and Jordan's of Biggleswade for example. Also, family friends, such as Percy Brocklehurst (already mentioned above.) For some odd reason, he always said that 'I always have a boiled egg when I've been on a long journey!' No, don't ask me why. As a child, you tend to believe the odd things adults say. So it might well have been something he made up on the spur of the moment. But I don't remember him actually eating a boiled egg on such occasions! If there was an electrical job that needed doing, he was always able to do it, such as rewiring something, repairing anything or other job. He drove a Morris Minor and all his tools were kept in the boot, and it was easy to recognise the sound of his car arriving before he came into the house.

Freaky Friday

Friday. 9.30 a.m. It's bright and sunny. The digital thermometer reads 24ºc.

I was resting on my bed. I'm waiting for my washing to finish. It's in the dryer. I hear the sound of a large vehicle arriving in the street. I'm intrigued to find out what it can be; perhaps a removal lorry? A delivery of something like an oven or fridge/freezer? Who knows? A neighbour is having a delivery of something. But no, it's none of those. I look out of the window and find it's a large car transporter, with one car on the top deck. The engine is running, but I can't see what it's there for. The ramp it down at the back. The vehicle has red lettering on it, saying 'Redcorn. Scrap vehicle specialists.' More and more intriguing. Is it there to take someone's car away? Yes, it would appear so. The driver has lowered an extension of the ramp to street level. Then, the car, which is on the top level, is tipped up. It's now at a rather precarious angle. Just don't ever ask me to drive such a vehicle with a car on top, at an angle of around 45º. Then, the driver goes to the forecourt of one of the houses further along the street and gets into a car which is parked there and drives it onto the car transporter. As I write, it is being secured with some sort of mechanism, which, hopefully, will prevent it from rolling off the lorry. It all looks incredibly precarious. 

So, why is this car being taken away? Has someone failed to pay the instalments on his/her car loan? Is it being reprocessed? I'm only guessing. Now the car is being lowered onto the lorry. Perhaps the driver has more vehicles to collect. This, of course, is only speculation.

The lorry has left Dexter Avenue. That was very quick and efficient. I reckon the car was being taken for scrap. Just a guess, but it looked fairly new, and t that might only be a guess.

Saturday. 8.15 p.m. It's been yet another mild day. It wasn't particularly sunny, but at least we didn't get rain, although we could do with a good downpour.

I have a new DJI gimbal for my recently acquired Sony digital camera. It is quite difficult to set up. There is an app which you download to your mobile phone, and it's supposed to be used to manage the device. I have managed to download it, but it is proving extremely difficult to set up with a password.

Monday. 10.25 a.m. It's bright and sunny again today. The digital thermometer currently reads 27ºc and, according to Carol Kirkwood on this morning's edition of BBC Breakfast, informed us that there was a fourth heatwave on the way.

9.15 p.m. I have now managed to get the app for the DJI gimbal to work on my iPad. I am in the process of setting it up. As usual with gadgets you buy these days, the instruction manual that came with is extremely basic. You can usually find information such as this on YouTube and after an online search, I have found a far more detailed instruction manual which I have managed to print out, using my Canon printer. 

Another Day Older . . .

 Friday. 1.50 p.m. I took my car to Anglo Motors to have its MoT. I had booked it via phone last week. I knew the old one would run out yesterday because I went online to check. I drove over to Mount Farm, the home of Anglo, at 11.45. I handed over the keys and then sat in the waiting area. After around 45 minutes, I learnt that it had passed! I'm so pleased, it's another thing to not have to stress about.

Sunday. 8.05 a.m. I woke a good deal later than normal. 

Yesterday evening, I lost Alfie. No, don't laugh. How on earth can you lose a small Yorkshire terrier in a flat this size? I think he was under my bed.

3.30 p.m. We have had extremely loud music emanating from the National Bowl, here in sunny Milton Keynes, both yesterday and today. Our ears were bombarded by the heavy beat of reggae music. Not my sort of music, but the whole area around the Bowl had been cordoned off with traffic cones and those plastic fences you see when there is some sort of incident. On my way to church, I found that Chaffron Way was closed off at the Grafton Street roundabout, which meant I had to make a rather circuitous route around Milton Keynes before I could get to Shenley Brook End.

Wednesday. 10.45 a.m. Where have I been? Why haven't I been writing stuff on here? Simples! Not much is happening around here. Well, this is Dexter House, centre of the universe, full of excitement- not. We need a resident artist here, say, David Hockney or Andrew Lloyd-Webber, doing art, writing music and getting things going. It would certainly liven things up. We should have an Olympic-size swimming pool in the communal garden, along with a gym and cinema complex. I have to say, as you will have noticed, if you read my posts regularly, that I can get carried away with my musings.

I went to Sainsbury's earlier. It was like a version of the Marie Celeste, virtually empty. I didn't get a trolley with a wonky wheel, which drives me nuts. It refuses to push without squeaking or just not moving at all. I think they should spend some time getting them maintained. So the wheels run freely and don't squeak.

Thursday. 8.45 a.m. It's another mild and relatively pleasant morning. I just hope it stays that way.

Yesterday evening, I was part of a Zoom meeting, which was for market research. I won't go into too much detail, just suffice to say, it was very interesting. I've done quite a few of these, some really boring, but this was fascinating, and what made it more interesting was hearing other people's opinions. I will get £60 for doing it, so that's great, and I want to get more of these, particularly when they're on Zoom, as it means you don't have to go anywhere, just sit and chat in the comfort of your own home. It ended relatively late, which means I slept well and didn't wake up until around 7 a.m. Until we had the coronavirus pandemic, I had never even heard of Zoom. I quickly got the hang of using it, and it has paid off to have the ability to use it. My various bits of technology, such as my MacBook Pro, iPad and iPhone, can be used to earn more cash. I have two apps on my iPhone, which I use to scan the barcodes of what I buy, using the phone's camera. I build up points which can be built up and then redeemed for various vouchers, such as Amazon, Argos, Sainsbury's, Tesco, etc. Well worth the effort. Another site I'm signed up to is called Consumer Pulse, which I've been with for years. When you buy clothes and other items, you record each on the site and, again, receive points which can be redeemed for vouchers. 

Funny Sunny

 Monday. 7.40 a.m. It's sunny but a good deal cooler this morning. My digital thermometer currently reads 22ºc.

I woke up a good deal later than usual. I can't think why, but I do feel refreshed.

Wednesday. 11.10 a.m. I've been to Sainsbury's. I have mentioned this before, but they've been moving stuff around yet again. You get used to where things are, then somebody thinks it's a great idea to move everything around. So, the result is, you get frustrated and spend most of your time going up and down the aisles hunting like crazy.

5.05 p.m. Oldbrook Boulevard is currently being resurfaced. I was aware of a 'Road Closed' sign up at the junction with Chaffron Way the other day, on my way to church on Sunday morning, but I wasn't sure what it was referring to. Then, this morning, on my way to Sainsbury's, there was a sign saying 'road closed' but it was somewhat ambiguous, as it was for the right-hand turn into Oldbrook Boulevard. The left-hand direction had already been resurfaced. The surface is far better now and a vast improvement on the rather poor surface, full of potholes and uneven.

Saturday. 10.30 a.m. I went to Lidl this morning because I didn't have anything for this evening's meal. It's only a short journey along Oldbrook Boulevard, and I can get in and out quickly. I am getting used to their self-service tills and used the Lidl app on my phone, although I almost left it behind, on the machine, except a vigilant member of staff waved it at me before I went out the door. 

There is light rain this morning. It is needed because everything is so dry. The digital thermometer currently reads 25ºc.

Sunday. 7.45 a.m. The digital thermometer currently reads 23ºc, meaning it's much cooler and sleeping is better.

Tuesday. 10.30 a.m. I had a bit of a meltdown yesterday, both metaphorically and physically, at lunchtime. I always have a snack around 11-11.30, usually toast, with cheese, peanut butter, jam or something else, with yoghurt, an apple and crisps. I made the toast in the toaster and chopped up the cheese on my chopping board, on the top of the oven, which has a ceramic hob, so, when switched off, makes an extra surface to work on, which is somewhat limited in my tiny kitchen. I went into the lounge to watch television and ate my snack. For whatever reason, I went back into the kitchen, having finished watching television. I was aware of smoke and a smell which I didn't recognise, and then saw that the chopping board and knife were melting on the ring, which was on. They both have elements of plastic in them; the chopping board is completely made of plastic, and the handle of the knife is plastic. Somehow or other, the ring had come on, probably by my accidentally touching the control knob on the front of the oven. There was a considerable amount of molten plastic on the surface of the ceramic hob. I thought immediately to switch off the oven. It was at this point that the fire alarm went off. The kitchen was by now full of smoke, which would have been what set off the fire alarm. Around five minutes or so a fire engine arrived outside in the street, and several minutes later, three firemen came into my flat. I showed them what had happened, and they opened all the windows. They could see that there was no fire and told me I could evacuate the flat, and so I took Alfie with me. 

I sat in the entrance area of Dexter House. There was no SHO on duty, so there was nobody to support me at this time. One of the other residents offered me a cup of tea, so we went to her flat, which is along the other corridor to my flat. It allowed me to reflect on what had happened. I could not remain in the flat while it was full of possibly toxic fumes. I had Alfie with me, and he must have wondered what on earth was going on. After drinking my tea, I thanked the lady and decided to return to my flat. The fumes had dispersed, and I looked at the damage to the knife, which was melted and totally unusable, as well as the cutting board, which had a large hole melted right through, and was also unusable.

Thursday. 8.20 a.m. Yesterday, late, our SHO at Dexter House phoned me, because she had seen an email regarding the situation in my kitchen. She said, perhaps the best solution to preventing a similar incident from happening with the oven would be to turn it off at the wall socket, which makes sense, and, as a result, I have switched it off at the wall socket.

Another Day, Another Dawn

 Saturday. 10.55 a.m. It's hotter than ever. The digital thermometer currently reads 29ºc.

We have had workmen in Dexter House for the past week. So, as a result, there's a great deal of noise, the usual banging and scraping and the high-pitched noise of machinery. They are taking out windows along the corridor. Apparently, they are replacing the windows with glass that is fireproof, or so I understand. Bringing the place in line with current building regulations, no doubt brought in after the Grenfell Tower fire, which killed many of the occupants.

Sunday. 7.15 a.m. It's a good deal cooler this morning. The digital thermometer currently reads 26ºc.

I woke up later than usual. I'm sleeping much better. I'm on sertraline, so I think that is why.

Monday. 5.45 a.m. Still cooler this morning. My thermometer reads 24ºc.

I've done some research online regarding sertraline. One of the side effects would appear to be related to heat regulation,  which then leads to skin irritation, so that explains things.

Friday. 6.20 a.m. For the past couple of nights, Alfie has slept on the floor. The night before last he was on the floor in the hallway, which is between the kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. He has started to make funny little noises, sort of, as if he's moaning and muttering to himself. (I know that sounds unlikely, but it seems like it to me.) This sound kept me awake, so I at last decided that I'd pick him up and put him in his nice, sort, comfortable bed, which I did. Last night, he lay in the bedroom doorway, making it difficult to get in without treading on him. I woke this morning and couldn't find him anywhere, until I found him under the coffee table in the lounge! Why there, I have no idea, but fortunately, he came out without my having to extract him; otherwise, he would have been stuck.

Tuesday was Alfie's 18th birthday. I can't believe he's still going strong, although a bit wobbly on his feet, but not astounding considering his age. We got Alfie as a result of going to Crufts, which would have been the year Carol and I got married. We saw a Yorkie doing agility, which was brilliant, and it was shown on television. Carol said, 'Shall we get one?' and I said 'Yes!' and we found a breeder around March, in Cambridgeshire, and we drove to have a look at a litter of puppies, and that's how we came to get Alfie. As a young puppy, he really was tiny and easily fitted into a hat that Carol was wearing.

8.25 a.m. It's bright and sunny, and the digital thermometer currently reads 28ºc.

Saturday. 7.30 a.m. An overcast morning. When I ventured out with Alfie earlier, there was a thin sort of rain. There is the possibility of torrential rain and thunderstorms later in the day, and the possibility of flash floods.

The digital thermometer currently reads 26ºc.

11.55 a.m. There has been an amber warning because of the rain. What began earlier as thin drizzle has now become a good deal heavier. There is now a warning about the possibility of flash floods

Sunday. 7.35 a.m. A definite change in the weather this morning. It's raining quite heavily. As a result, there is a large puddle along the side of Strudwick Drive, and it has to be, because the roads in Milton Keynes weren't constructed with cambers, meaning water can't flow off as it should. Also, drains have got blocked with debris, meaning that there's more of a buildup of water. If the Romans could build their roads with cambers, why can't modern road builders do the same?

Life At Home- Part 2

 My mother had a drawer in the kitchen for all manner of odds and ends. Offcuts of string, paper bags, brown paper, and elastic bands. You name it, if it could be rescued and saved, it went in this drawer.  Many items you bought often came wrapped in brown paper and tightly tied with string. We had to go to Braggins, the main department store in Bedford, to buy our school uniforms. 'Ovr Boys' was over the front of the shop, on the corner of Harpur Street and Silver Street. Why the name had a V in it I could never discover. Braggins had a fascinating system of tubes and, I presume, compressed air, which was used to send cash and receipts for things bought to the cash office, hidden in the bowels of the store. This was long before computers, bar codes and all the modern conveniences we now take for granted, but as a young boy, this system intrigued me. The shop assistant put whatever it was in a capsule sort of thing, which then fitted in the lower end of the tube. The thing was closed up, a button was pressed, and there was a whoosh noise, and the capsule was gone. I have no idea how they managed to send it to the right place in the store, but it really interested me, and it made shopping for boring school uniforms far more fun.

I digress. Returning to my mother's oddments drawer, I never knew her to actually use any of those oddments. Perhaps she did, but I never saw her go to the drawer for any of those bits and pieces. I think this may have been a sort of throwback to the Second World War, which she lived through, when there was a 'make do and mend' culture. Everything was saved, even the least important things, such as ends of string, brown paper and so on. When I think, I was born barely five years after the end of the war, so I suppose it's not surprising.

People did reuse things and had their clothes repaired.  I remember a lady used to come to the house every week to do mending, darning socks, jumpers, turning up trousers and so on. Her name was Miss Fuller, and she lived in a cottage right next to the garden of Malting Farm. She then started taking my younger brother, Andrew, out in his pram when he was a baby. He was born in 1961. Then, her work doing the ending got less and less, and she spent more and more time looking after baby Andrew. She was always 'Miss Fuller' and I never discovered her first name. It was the same with the two ladies who used to come into the house, to clean and do domestic jobs, Mrs Jakes and Mrs Fremantle. Mrs Freemantle lived in a cottage at the rear of Malting Farm house and was married to Bob, who was a ploughman on the farm. Mrs Jakes lived with her husband in a cottage which was possibly the last cottage, going out of the village, going towards Bedford. 

Malting Farmhouse was large. As I have already mentioned, it was old. Being owned by the Whitbread Estate, they were responsible for the maintenance of the place, and at one point, when we lived there, the roof had to be partially replaced. There was a traditional-pitched roof, but also a flat section, which ran across the front of the house and out into a semicircular area near the garden. This was made of lead, and it was replaced, no doubt at vast expense. 

There were two attic rooms at the top of the house (where attics are usually located), which we used as playrooms. My older brothers had a train set, which I believe came from a cousin, but I can't be sure of that fact. It meant we could play up there and away from everyone else in the house, but as a child, I found it somewhat scary, because there were a couple of doors which appeared to lead to nowhere in particular. A lot of ancient stuff was stored in a small room, such as paintings, ancient sports equipment and elderly suitcases, which probably hadn't been used in decades. The narrow and steep staircase to access the attic rooms could be tricky to ascend.  There were good views of the village from the windows and, if you were so inclined, you could go out onto the flat roof and walk around, but it was rather dangerous, because the parapet was very low and it would be quite easy to fall over the edge.

The house was large, and it was a great place to have games, such as hide and seek. There were no end of strange, secret places to hide, and you could spend hours hunting for someone who had hidden.

We used the dining room as the central room to watch television and generally relax in. In the early 1960s, my father bought a black-and-white television. In those days, television was in black and white and on 405 lines. Later, around 1964-5, BBC2 opened and was broadcast on 625 lines, meaning, if you wanted to watch it, you needed a set capable of viewing in the new 625 format. My dad eventually bought such a set, I think the brand was KB, nothing like a modern set, large, with most of the works underneath the screen, and to watch BBC2, you had to push over a switch, but I don't think we watched it much. In around 1970, the BBC and ITV introduced colour, but my father wouldn't commit to it until a good deal later. The first colour programmes were experimental in some way, and in 1967 the BBC broadcast Wimbledon in colour. I remember seeing it for the first time when I was taken on a school visit to the Robinson Rentals offices in Bedford (later to become Granada Rental) and saw colour television then, but I have to say, I wasn't over impressed by the quality.

Life At Home- Part 1

 I was thinking about when I was younger and living at home with my parents. I must have mentioned before on this blog that I lived on a farm in Cardington. Malting Farm, to be exact. We were tenants of the Whitbread Estate. Malting Farmhouse was a large Georgian house, built in 1764. It is red brick, with windows that have diamond panes. Some of the windows had been bricked up back in the 18th century, or thereabouts, probably because of the window tax, which was introduced during that period. I think the more windows you had, the more tax you had to pay, so people blocked up windows to avoid paying more tax. There was no double glazing or central heating. In the winter, when you got up in the morning, you would invariably find thick ice on the inside of the windows. The upstairs rooms were connected to one another, so you had to go through one room to get to another. My bedroom, which I shared with my younger brother, had three doors, so it wasn't exactly private. A corridor was added, both upstairs and downstairs, at a much later date. To get dressed in the morning to go to school, we had to run along the corridor to the bathroom and turn on the electric wall heater. This was the only source of heating in the winter in that room. Downstairs in the kitchen, there was an Aga, which was fired with a coal-like substance, which came in sort of nut-shaped lozenges. This Aga had to be kept alight, as it not only heated the water (although there was an immersion tank in the bathroom) but was used for cooking. There was a coal/wood-burning stove in the dining room, which was actually used as the main room where we used to watch television and as a family centre. There were other fireplaces in the other rooms, but they were rarely used. 

Thinking about it, we had all we needed in some respects. Being a farm, we had milking cows, providing milk, potatoes, grown to be sold at Covent Garden Market, Brussels sprouts, similarly grown for sale, and in garden of Malting Farm, a whole range of fruit and vegetables, apples, plums, pears, gooseberries, raspberries, strawberries as well as lettuce, onions and in season, celery and rhubarb. My mum did shop for other household items, at a grocer's in Bedford called West's and later, at a store off Cardington Road, called D and A (that may be wrong.) This was well before supermarkets, such as Tesco or Sainsbury's, but she also went into Bedford centre and went to International Stores in the High Street as well as Saxby's, which did pork pies and sausages.

 Dad was friends with a man who was a butcher, Dick Woods. He had greyhounds, similar to Dad. They used to take their greyhounds coursing, and one of  Dad's won a race at White City. Dick Woods owned and ran a butcher's shop in Harrowden Road, and we bought our meat from him. Often it would be delivered by van, and often he would drop in for coffee or around 4 o'clock when we had tea and at times bring sausages which he made himself. It rather makes me think of Jones the butcher in Dad's Army, who was renowned for giving extra bits of meat or sausages to his regular customers, which was actually probably illegal and against the wartime rationing regulations.

Teatime was, as I have said, around 4 o'clock and my mother produced her best cakes, especially her speciality, shortbread. I think it was passed down to her from my father's side of the family. I believe it is a Scottish tradition, which would be right, because my father's family came from Scotland. It was at this time that there were visitors who just happened to call in at the right time, to be invited for a cup of tea, a piece of cake and a chat. Many of those who came to tea would be reps for the various companies that did business with the farm. 

Earlier in the day, around 11 o'clock, would be coffee time. My mother had a coffee percolator, which sat on the fridge. I don't think you can buy these gadgets today. It was probably made by Russell Hobbs. You put ground coffee into a metal sieve-like container within the percolator and filled the thing with water, and as it boiled, the water came up through a pipe and percolated through the coffee grounds, and the hot coffee was contained in a separate compartment. The outer body was made of ceramic, and it had a clear glass lid through which you could see the coffee percolating. I probably took about 15 minutes to brew a cup of coffee.