All About Manners

I can say that I was bought up to have some manners. The basic, respect for adults, your parents in particular.  I was taught that if a lady came into a room, you stood up. If you were on a bus and you were already seated, and an older person came on, you stood up so they could sit in your place. You didn't speak until you were spoken to (for children that is) but as an adult, you didn't butt into a conversation until the other person had finished what they had to say. As a child, adults knew better than you and you most certainly never answered them back. The old saying 'children should be seen and not heard' is very true. In my day, you'd just sit quietly or leave the room. Today it seems that children think they can get away with all sorts of bad behaviour because they have 'rights.'   Lacking today is respect. People don't seem to have a great deal of patience. Things like social media, Twitter and Facebook, allow people to say things about others which they'd never dream of saying to a person's face. Everyone has a right to have an opinion, even if it's the opposite of your yours. I've found that, on the road, when driving, other drivers (not all, as there are probably more decent people than those who are not, I have to point out) who expect you to get of of their way, some driving very close behind you. They expect you to ignore the speed limit, whatever the consequences. On roundabouts, you get cut up by other drivers, even when you are obeying the rules. Unfortunately, the rules of the road don't seem to apply to many drivers. In Milton Keynes there seems to be a particularly aggressive sort of driver. They want to drive as fast as they can and to more or less ignore the rules when they get to one of the many roundabouts. If you are careful, like me, and slow down when approaching such a roundabout, and you get a car coming up behind you, they don't like the fact that you're being cautious and stop to make sure there's no other traffic coming in from the right, and if you are waiting, they attempt to get you to move. I've seen the faces of some drivers (although I almost always try to avoid eye-contact) and they look angry, or wave their arms in the air, if you don't get out of their way fast enough. The 'not driving to close' rule that used to be in the Highway Code, seems to be ignored. It makes sense to not drive to close to a car because, what happens if you brake suddenly, in particular when it's wet or icy, you're more likely to skid and then the car behind is going to run into you. Give other road-users space. Common sense, really.

People in shops can be really bad mannered. In Marks and Spencers, a couple of months ago, when they had their special offer meal deals, £10 for a meal for two, main, side, sweet and wine (excellent value. Waitrose also has a similar offer.), I got there and a large crowd of people were grabbing the items in the offer, in  one of those shelving units at the end of an aisle. People were pushing in, and one woman barged her way in without a word of apology or 'sorry.' Just had no manners. I thought Marks and Spencers customers were better mannered that this, but apparently not. Then, when you get to the till, the check-out, and you have to queue. Some people don't like waiting. I thought the British had this 'thing' about queuing, most likely dating back to the Second World War, when there was rationing and you had to queue to get whatever it was. I think that has most definitely gone out of the window. People can be exceedingly rude to the poor staff on these checkouts. It must be very difficult to be polite to customers who are just plain nasty.

It doesn't help when certain people who are judges of television shows such as 'Strictly Come Dancing' come out with some really nasty remarks about some of the celebrity dancers. I'm not actually a fan of this sort of show, but it seems bad manners don't apply when Craig Revel-Horwood says some quite spiteful things. Just to get mentioned in the tabloid press or on social media I reckon. I realise that a lot of so-called 'reality' television is hyped to deliberately get things mentioned in these forms of media and the producers set up people such as the judges, but I don't think it's necessary to be quite so nasty. As a result, some audience members think they have a right to be similarly unpleasant to people. Footballers and other sporting personalities who behave in a reckless manner, such as speeding in their cars or in a drunken manner, falling into the gutter after leaving a nightclub or brawling are setting bad examples for fans, and thus giving the impression that their bad manners and general behaviour is acceptable. As a consequence, young people think they can get away with that sort of behaviour. These sports personalities as well as pop musicians and actors who have a loyal following are setting bad examples when they should be trusted to behave in a better fashion.

I think mobile phones and social media have a lot to answer for, as regards manners. How many people do you see walking about as they use their mobile phone? You rarely get eye-contact with anyone these days. Too busy texting. Rarely get any sort of contact with anyone who speaks. If you do, it's usually those of a mature age. Mostly it's the younger generation who are obsessed by mobile phones. I know they have their uses, but when people can't even speak when you try to make conversation, it's a bit of a worry for the future. Are there going to be people who have no social skills? They're going to be sort of stunted, as regards social interaction. People using mobile phones when they're in a restaurant and not paying attention to other people at the table, grossly bad manners in my opinion.

I've heard recently of someone objecting to someone using a mobile phone as they were sitting in the audience for a play in the West End and the person on the mobile punching the person who objected. Also, people eating food while they watched a  play. Just plane bad manners to even think of eating food and being obnoxious. As for using a mobile when watching a play, just thoughtless behaviour and shouldn't be allowed. What on earth is the point of going to see a show, when the tickets are probably very expensive, and then chatting on a mobile phone all the way through it? Do people think it polite to talk all the way through a live performance, annoying for the other audience members and just distracting for the actors who are trying to give a decent performance. I'd have hope he person who punched the man who used a mobile was done for assault. As for eating in the auditorium, definitely not the place to eat.

Second Chemotherapy Cycle Completed

On Friday afternoon I had to go into the Macmillan Unit at the hospital to meet one of the oncology doctors in the pain clinic who is attempting to make our life easier by giving Carol some new medication. One is a patch which she has to wear on her arm and will replace tramadol and co-codomol. All this to deal with the pain Carol is experiencing. The doctor gave me a prescription to take to the hospital's own pharmacy and fortunately they made it up relatively speedily so I wasn't kept waiting too long.  I've explained in blog posts the difficulty we have communicating with our surgery, Ashfield Medical Centre. We put in a repeat prescription and then, when we come to collect it, we ring the surgery to check where in the system the order is, to sometimes be told 'it's been sent electronically to Lloyd's at Sainsbury's,' and the next time you ring, 'we have it here, printed-out.' So, you can't rely on them to be more clear what is going on.  Also, not very clear whether we're actually going to get the meds we order. Then, when you pick up the medication, they only give Carol enough tablets for no more than 10 days. Which means you are forever ringing and checking and re-ordering medication. The doctor at the hospital was trying to get through to the doctor at the surgery to try to get them to make any medication repeat order be for a larger quantity. My question is, why can't the oncology department order the medications for Carol? Why do we have to go through Ashfield Medical Centre? It seems a rather unnecessary process. Surely it would cut down on N.H.S. bureaucracy. Wasting resources, or is that being simplistic? Why can't they simplify things for all concerned? They seem to have rules and regulations just for the sake of it.  I realise the N.H.S. has to watch what is used and that medication shouldn't be over-prescribed and has to prevent waste and particularly keep an eye of spending. But if you have a long-term health issue, such as cancer, why can't you be treated as an urgent case, have a dedicated phone line to cut down on all the waiting when you telephone? Or is that expecting too much?

 I went on my own as there was no point Carol going with me. But once I got home from being at the hospital I had to drive Carol back for 4.45 as she had to have the pump she's had for the past few days removed. Fortunately it was a quick job, as one of the nurses in the oncology department dealt with it quickly and efficiently. Things are also easier now we know where to go as well as being able to park in the carpark immediately behind the oncology department and it's not too far for Carol to walk. Why on earth I was never told you could use this carpark when Carol was in ward 21 for three weeks I can't think. I had this idea that this particular carpark was for staff only. Simplifying these things makes our lives so much easier.

This morning I've been out to top up our gas and electricity (we have pre-payment meters for electricity and gas which are topped up using a card for gas and a key for electricity.)  I went to the One-Stop shop in Garraway's. The round to the Shell petrol station in Grafton Street to put diesel in the car. I'm just making sure that we're fully fuelled as we might need the car in an emergency.

True British Grit, where has it gone?

Oh dear. Here we go again. A little bit of snow and the whole country grinds to a halt. What's the matter with people? We're British and a little bit of the white, cold stuff, and we just get on with things. Go about our lives without letting things bother us. Just like Brexit (I hate the term, but we know what it means). Once we've been freed from the EU, we're going to manage perfectly nicely, thank you. I did vote to remain, but finding out about how the negotiations to leave have been going on, I think I'd be perfectly happy to be separated from this 'bloc.' (More like block-headed, the negotiators in my opinion. They need us more than we need them. I shan't make mention to this further as I don't want to bring politics into this blog.) British people are not effected by the weather, if it rains, we just get our umbrellas out, or don Wellingtons and macintoshes or wet-weather gear and continue. The old 'Dunkirk Spirit' comes into force. Have we really become so wet and wimpy to allow a spot of snow to effect our lives? Probably, yes. But why have we become so pathetic? There has to be a reason for this state of affairs. The media has a part to play in this. Weather plays a major part in the 'discussion' in the press and television. Scenes of snow make pretty pictures on BBC Breakfast or on the front page of tabloid newspapers, The Mail and Express in particular. When there's no other news, then our weather makes easy headlines, whether it's going to be a 'scorcher' or a 'chiller,' of course, depending on the time of year. No big political news, scandal, party-division or squabble? Then write a story about snow, sun, fog, frost or whatever. Easy peasy. And then big it up, hype it, mash it, over-write it and you have a story and a big headline, in over-sized type. Sells papers. 

As for the weather, well, we have a couple of inches and the motorways grind to a halt. When I was at school in the 1960's I seem to remember we managed to get there in the worst winter on record (I think it was the winter of 1962-3) and even had to help clear the snow in the school playground. None of this mamby-pamby 'health and safety' business then. We shovelled the snow into a pile at one end of the playground and against a wall. As the snow fell, and it froze and then thawed, but mostly froze, the wall began to get pushed over. I don't think it actually fell, but it began to lean at a dangerous angle. I can't imagine today's children shovelling anything. If it snows nowadays, schools close down. Pathetic. Are we creating a new generation of children who can't cope when problems arise? They can't cope with a little bit of snow and ice? They need to have a bit of resistance, some back-bone to cope with life's little problems. If so, they'll never be able to cope with bigger issues that arise, far bigger than what the weather throws at them.

A few inches of snow, and our railway system grinds to a halt. Excuses such as 'leaves on the line' or a little bit of frost and the whole network is thrown into total confusion. People insist on flying off for a break over the Christmas and New Year holiday and can't understand why they get stuck in long queues on the motorway and when they arrive at the airport they don't like the idea that their flight has been cancelled because of snow and ice on the runway or perhaps their plane is covered in ice and needs thawing out. Oh dear! Why not just stay at home and be environmentally friendly?  Just get a shovel out and start clearing the snow instead of wingeing on about compensation. If you insist on travelling when the weather is bad, just pack a thick jumper, a scarf, a wooly hat, a Thermos of tea, coffee or soup and put up with it.

Come on folks, if you don't need to go anywhere, unless your journey is vital, just stay at home. After all, we know perfectly well that it's winter, and the weather can become very treacherous and dangerous. The weather can cause very low temperatures, so this is what we can expect. The whole country grinds to a halt. Councils send the gritting lorries out. Apart from that, we just don't prepare for winter when we have such harsh conditions.

As for Brits becoming a lot of wimps, I blame things like Health and Safety regulations, burocratic spoil-sports, you can't do this, and you can't do that. Can't people take responsibility for THEMSELVES? Live a little life, even if it's a bit dangerous. Too much reliance on government departments and especially the N.H.S.

Second Chemotherapy Cycle

The weather is wet and windy as I write this at 6.30 a.m. on Wednesday morning. The rain has since  turned into snow, which was a bit of a shock when I peered out of the bathroom window a little later. I've been out to clear snow from the car windscreen as we're off to the oncology department at Milton Keynes Hospital for Carol to have her second cycle of chemotherapy. She has a blood test at 9.30 and then, if the results of that are positive, she can begin the actual chemotherapy at around midday. So what exactly are we supposed to do between whiles? Twiddle our thumbs? Just wait in the department? Come home and then go back? You ask me. If it hadn't been for the Christmas holiday, no doubt we'd have been there on Monday so Carol could have the blood test and then the chemotherapy would have begun on Tuesday. But never mind. Our main concern is not being bored as it's quite a long time sitting and doing virtually nothing as the treatment progresses. I've been looking for a Travel Scrabble set as we like playing Scrabble, but my searches have not managed to find a set. None of the local stores, Toys R Us, John Lewis or Smythe's have it in stock. It appears that everyone wants computerised games (which we don't) and a travel version would be easiest to pack up and set up in the oncology department. I just hope that the carpark at the hospital as well as all the paths and other outdoor walk-ways are clear and relatively slip-free as the last thing we need is either of us slipping over. Just doesn't bear thinking about otherwise.

A bit later. We've been to the oncology department and Carol has now had the blood test as well as blood pressure taken. It was busy when we arrived and as a result had to wait some time before there was room for all the tests to be done. We have to be back in the department by around 12.30 for the chemo to continue. Although it depends on the blood test results.

It was raining as we left the hospital to drive home. But now (11.25) it's snowing quite heavily. I just hope it doesn't settle and make life difficult.

Fortunately the snow fizzled out. Probably not the best way to describe snow that doesn't amount to much. A cold description rather than one for possibly something hot, such as a firework.  Given the go-ahead for the next stage of the chemotherapy and as a result it was quite a long afternoon, and we didn't leave the oncology department until about 6.15. Be back there on Friday afternoon. Carol has another pump for the next couple of days as she had at the end of the last chemo cycle.

I have to laugh about the parking. All that effort to get you to pay (it is annoying, but as we get our parking free if we go to the macmillan unit and get the ticket punched.) The barrier at the carpark was raised at the exit. No doubt it can't cope with the freezing temperatures, so drivers can leave without the need to put their ticket in the machine which would normally raise the barrier. I am appalled to learn that N.H.S. hospitals across England make £174 million out of car parking. Just another money-making scam.

Cliche Soap Misery

I couldn't resist. I had to write something. I said I wouldn't write a blog post over Christmas. But every Christmas it's the same. They can't manage to come up with a happy storyline for EastEnders. The characters can't have a nice, peaceful, happy Christmas. Den handed the divorce papers to Angie on Christmas Day goodness knows how many years ago. Someone has a complete dislike for someone so they have to shoot that 'someone,' (was it one of the Mitchell brothers?) Pauline Fowler breathes her last, falls over in the snow in the middle of Albert Square, all alone. How come it snows exactly on 25th December (when in reality the temperature is spring-like in the 'real world'? Does Albert Square have it's own micro climate?) Why on earth would anyone choose to live in Walford? Does nobody have the common sense to just LEAVE for a better life elsewhere? It makes me wonder why ON EARTH people want to watch soap. Particularly when most are so full of misery and such horrible characters. I reckon it's because they're on at the same time every week, it's familiarity and nothing changes. Just a habit to go on being bored with he same old same. Pity really.

In tonight's episode, Max Branning explains the reason for his behaviour on a 'virus in his 'ed.? Is this a new medical condition? How can you blame your mental state on a virus? Just a weak scriptwriter's excuse. Now, as I watch, Phil Mitchell is threatening to shoot Max with a shotgun, he's lying on the ground and it's pouring with rain. Mind you, it's good BBC stair-rod type rain  (real rain never falls in that shower bath type fashion. Far too regular, and they're using pre-recorded BBC sound effects thunder.) Just one big cliche if ever there was one. No, sorry, I'm not concentrating too hard on what's going on. A great deal of arguing and shouting about something or other. So, this is Christmas television entertainment? Over two 30-minutes instalments? I don't generally watch any television soap. Quite frankly, I have better things to do with my time. There's far better drama on elsewhere. Piles of stuff on catch-up with our SkyQ box.

Can nobody cook a Christmas dinner without burning it, or there being some other disaster in the kitchen? Then, as a result, everyone going to the Vic to have their Christmas dinner. Or going somewhere else in the Square for their meal. Then their being an almighty argument over the turkey and pudding. Probably a lot of stuff being broken, food thrown about, possibly somebody having their face thrust into a plate of food.

Then, the other old stand-by. A long-lost relative arriving at the last moment. A character who hasn't been seen in the Square for years, knocks on the door or someone or other. Or a love-child or a character arriving to stir things up somewhat. Admittedly, this doesn't always happen at Christmas, but it matters not, as it's still a cliche.

I know this is all awful, but I only ever watch EastEnders to see how truly bad it is. There can be no other good reason, and particularly over the Season of Goodwill. Certainly the characters in EastEnders have never heard of 'Goodwill.' 

Christmas Holiday

Not a great deal to discuss in this blog post. We're ready for Christmas. Just myself and Carol, as it has been for the past few years. We have our fridge well and truly stocked with food for the festive period. It's just as well as I don't intend going to any of the major supermarkets as they are likely to be crammed with last-minute shoppers. There's this crazy, almost what I'd call a siege mentality that grabs people, the very idea that they're going to run out of sausage rolls, mince pies or wrapping paper, or they've forgotten to buy Great Aunt Ethel or some long-lost relation who just happens to turn up out of the blue and needs  pair of socks or a set of matching oven gloves and egg whisk so they have to rush out and scour the aisles in Morrison's for such an item. The shops will be open again on Boxing Day and most of what has been bought as presents at over-inflated prices will then be sold at half price or less.

So I'm going to leave off blogging for a couple of days at least, so to my loyal followers on here I'll say adieu and see you in a few days time. But do have a super Christmas but don't eat too many mince pies!

Peculiarly Problematic Prescription Pandemonium

The weather is continuing very unseasonal. Quite amazing considering how cold it was a little over a week ago when we were snowed in for the weekend. I know I make quite a lot out of the weather in my blog posts. To some people, particularly those who read this overseas, must think we British have an obsession with the subject. Perhaps we do, but the weather definitely makes us what we are. If anything, it's what makes our landscape, keeping the countryside green and pleasant. It may me mild, but it's over-cast. Not a particularly bright and sunny day.

Carol needed to have some of her meds repeated. She had written a letter to take to the surgery to get one or the other of the doctors to sign off a prescription for several of her meds. I took this on Wednesday morning and handed it in at reception. I was told that it was going to be ready for collection late on Thursday morning. Some hope. I never believe anything they tell me as we've been let down so many times. On Thursday morning I telephoned, having been to do some remaining Christmas shopping in Sainsbury's. I was under the impression that the surgery would send the prescription electronically to Lloyd's pharmacy within Sainsbury's and so asked at the counter to be told that if the prescription had been sent it would be ready for collection after 4 o'clock that afternoon. (Is this getting confusing? If you aren't, I most definitely am.) One of the drugs was oramorph, to help Carol control her pain. I rang again this morning (Friday) and was told (by Ashfield Medical Centre) that the prescription had been sent to Lloyd's electronically. I again rang Lloyd's to be told it hadn't got there. Once again I rang Ashfield (getting through miraculously without a long wait.) to then be told they had a PRINT copy. I decided to DRIVE to Ashfield and as I got there I saw one one the ladies from Lloyd's in front of me, at the reception desk. She was collection Carol's prescription and said she had to collect several more prescriptions from several other surgeries and would be back in Sainsbury's within and hour and a half. So- I returned home and , after 12 noon, went to Sainsbury's to collect the made-up prescription. Mercifully, ready to collect.

Sainsbury's was extremely busy. I don't think I've seen it so chock-full of shoppers. None of the manned checkouts (in this politically correct world we live in, are we allowed to say 'manned'?) But you know what I mean. I had to use a self-service checkout. I put my 'bag for life' on the bagging area and got the 'unknown item in the bagging area' voice from the machine. I think it's the fact that it's unknown which bothers me. It was just a bag and certainly not unknown. As a result, a member of staff moved into view and sorted the thing out and I managed to pay with my debit card and got out of the store a good deal quicker than I had anticipated. I had purchased a bottle of Bailey's which was one item we couldn't do without over Christmas.  By which time I wasn't sure exactly where I was, I had made so many calls and driven so far, back and forth across Milton Keynes, but by the time I arrived home I was ready for a well-earned rest.

Carol had an appointment at the pain clinic within the Macmillan unit at the hospital at 4.30 this afternoon. We were there well before the appointed time and luckily we were in and out before the allotted time. The doctor is hopefully going to contact Ashfield and manage to get Carol's meds set up so she gets a larger quantity each time as, at the moment, some only last no more than 10 days, which means we have to go through the rigmarole of ringing Ashfield to get a repeat and then dealing with the reception and getting so many conflicting responses, such as, them saying it's been sent electronically when it hasn't so I have to go and collect a print version and so on and so forth. It's no wonder the N.H.S. is in such a mess if this is how the administration is organised. Muddled and very confused and very stress-inducing for both of us, which isn't helping matters.

On the way back home we drove round the Grid Roads and met a traffic jam along Chaffron Way, just before the entrance into Eaglestone. Police cars and ambulances all over the place and the centre of the road taken up by a car which looked as if it had been run into. We assumed that someone hadn't been careful coming out of the road leading into Fishermead. No doubt Christmas revellers after an office party. Too many people with no patience, to eager to get home and not paying attention, and no doubt unfit to drive, with too much alcohol in their blood streams and likely to get breathalizrd by the police. 

Winter Weather and Other Matters

It's become a good deal milder since last week. No frost on the car, but today was another matter. We've left a lot of our Christmas shopping to the last minute, due mostly because of Carol's illness. I did have to defrost the car this morning, a job that takes a good 20 minutes. Fortunately the new Renault has a good heating system, but I still had to use defrost spray I had bought in Sainsbury's a few days ago.

Only a week to go to Christmas Day and we still hadn't bought food for our Christmas dinner. Infact there was a lot of stuff we'd need such as wrapping paper and one or two Christmas cards we needed. There was the possibility that we wouldn't even be able to buy a turkey and such things like brandy butter, but when I went to Sainsbury's I needn't have worried as they seemed to have quite a good stock of all these festive items. In the end we decided on a turkey crown, rather than an entire turkey as we would be on our on Christmas Day.

Carol is busy occupying her time doing crochet. She has already made Alfie a really snug and warm blanket as well as her mum and myself a scarf. She's even made a Minion toy. I'm not sure what she's making at the moment, but at lunch time she ran out of wool. So I drove over to Rooksley and went to Hobbycraft to buy a couple of balls of wool to keep the crochet-work going. The place was heaving with shoppers. But fortunately I managed to find a parking space.

As you enter this retail park you have to turn in from the road outside. On leaving, you aren't supposed to turn right and then onto the main grid road. It can be extremely difficult and somewhat dangerous, so the Council or whoever is in charge of roads around Milton Keynes, put a barrier in the centre of the road which prevents the right turn manoeuvre, but even with this in place some drivers ignore it. They have done this at the Stadium, where there is a new exit from the retail park (which has Marks and Spencer, Primark and other stores in it's parade of shops.) You would think that it would be easy enough to just accept these obstructions, more on safety grounds than anything else. It's quite busy along this stretch of road, but  no, there are still idiots who think it's fine to ignore these barriers and still insist on turning right. It's never much of a problem if you are either lost or can't get out of a road onto a grid road around Milton Keynes, because you can just drive to the nearest roundabout, never more than a mile away, drive around the roundabout and go back the way you came. This happens at Waitrose at Oakgrove. It is more or less impossible to turn right out of this junction, but it's not a problem to just turn left and then round the roundabout and back onto Chaffron Way. But as with the other junctions,  but a lot of people just don't have the sense to just do the obvious thing and do what is safest. When there's rules in place, there's always someone who chooses to ignore them. Then they wonder how they get into serious road accidents. The same with those who choose to cross the grid roads without being careful when it's safer to use the under-passes or bridges which are there for this purpose. Quite a few people have been killed doing this, and I often see people risking their lives by crossing the busiest of grid roads. Often children from Milton Keynes Academy when they've left at going-home time, running across the carriageway towards the bus stop near Eaglestone.

Something Of Nothing

So, I'm short of things to talk about in this blog post. Which is unlike me. I can usually manage to find plenty to waffle on about. Just staring at a blank screen or sheet of paper can produce writer's block. Many writers have managed to create something out of nothing. When I'm out and about I always attempt to start conversations. If we're in a waiting room for example, as we've been doing for the last few months in N.H.S. facilities, it's always a stress-reliever if you can start a conversation. Even at the supermarket check-out, I always feel sorry for the staff who have to put up with grumpy customers who don't like waiting for any length of time. Whenever I've done any television walk-on work and I arrived early on location and have to sit and wait (a great deal of that when doing that sort of work.) I always manage to strike up conversations with all and sundry who I sit next to, usually on a bus or whatever. As a result, in some cases, I've managed to get more work, or find out such things like other agencies taking on people which has lead to me getting cast in other shows, or going for auditions for things I would have otherwise known about.

There have been quite a few instances of television shows which have had complete episodes which  utilise 'nothing much happens' for an entire 30 minutes running time. 'EastEnders' have done several complete episodes which have just a single character or only a handful of characters in a sort of one-act style storyline. Well, like most television soaps, not a lot happens, or if it does, it's very, very slowly over months and months. Then, just think of the famous 'Sunday Afternoon' episode of the classic 'Hancock's Half-Hour' where all that happens is Hancock, Sid and Bill discuss how boring things are and nothing much happens. There's an episode of 'One Foot in The Grave' where Victor, Margaret and Mrs Warboys are stuck together in their car in a traffic-jam  on the way to some Bank Holiday destination and, again, nothing much happens, except, of course, that Victor gets on everyone's nerves with his constant moaning and upsets several people who are in other cars in the jam.

Taking of traffic jams, I get annoyed when we get stuck in them on the motorway, usually when we go north on the M1 and it's caused by roadworks and they cone off one of the lanes and, as we pass by at a crawl, I look over and there's miles and miles of these roadworks and nothing going on that would possibly warrant coning this section of motorway, no sign of workmen digging holes, laying tarmac or otherwise being busy. 

Of  course, Hancock was created during the 1950's and 1960's when Sundays were boring, nothing was open, no cinemas or theatres and shops had very restricted opening hours, so sitting at home doing nothing except watching the rain-drops running down the window pains would have had resonances with most of the audience who were listening at home.

Perhaps the most famous instances of nothing happening must of course be 'Waiting For Godot' written by Samuel Beckett, where the main characters spend the entire play doing virtually nothing as they wait for Godot who never appears. It's a lot of almost gibberish dialogue.

Then there's works of art. We've been to Tate Modern and seen art which can, as best, be blank canvasses or have nothing in the way of a 'picture' on their canvasses, just canvas with a few slits in or a couple of blocks of coloured paint (think of Marc Rothco.) I won't go into the artistic value or otherwise of these pieces of 'art.' A few artists work in what's called 'conceptual art,' perhaps filling a space with  - nothing. Which is supposed to make a statement. But don't ask we what. Not actually my idea of art. Supposed to make you think.

John Cage, the composer, created a piece of music called 4'33", which consists of silence for 4 minutes 33 seconds. Quite frankly it can hardly be described as 'music,' but being a minimalist composer it couldn't be much more minimal if it consists of nothing. Not sure whether this is considered a serious piece or whether he was having a joke on the audience.

So, at the end of this blog post, where I started off with nothing, I have quite successfully managed to write about something.

Snow . . .Gone!

The snow we've had around here for the past few days is gradually disappearing. Thank goodness, as it has made walking around quite difficult, particularly at the hospital. I was really concerned that either of us could have slipped over and ended up injured in some way. Just walking across the carpark was treacherous and none of the paths leading into the hospital building were free of ice or snow. As it is, this morning, it looks quite sunny and mild outside, although as I write this I haven't ventured outside.

I'm telescoping the last couple of days into this single blog post as there's not really enough to mention in several posts, one for each day, so here goes.

Yesterday (Wednesday) we had to be at the oncology department because the doctors found that Carol was slightly anaemic so she needed to have a blood transfusion.

As we arrived in the hospital campus it was busy as cars were queued going in from Standing Way and then along the inner ring-road near the ground-level carparks. Fortunately the snow and ice had begun to melt meaning it was a good deal easier to walk about, particularly across the carpark and into the hospital building.

 We arrived at the oncology department really early, which meant Carol could be set up in good time and we were in for a four-hour session as each bag of blood took two hours to be transfused and she then had to have a saline solution to flush out her system. Crazy how hot it has been in the oncology suite. On arrival the windows were open to cool things down. It seems really ridiculous that it's winter and they need to have the place warm, then they have windows open to cool things down. Just a waste of resources and money.

On Thursday we went back to the oncology because the pump Carol had was to be removed. We got to the hospital at around 2.20 and it was quite difficult to find a parking space, but fortunately someone was leaving so I managed to use it. The pump hadn't finished and there was still some liquid within it so the nurses couldn't disconnect it as hoped and we said we'd come back the next day and it could be removed then. So we had spent a couple of hours without anything happening and so went home at around 5.30.

Today (Friday) we returned to the oncology department. Only a couple of people there and so it didn't take long before one of the nurses disconnected the pump and we were back home within an hour or so. Good to have a couple of weeks of no hospital appointments. The next is on 27th December.

The weather has turned out quite bright and sunny, which makes a pleasant change from the cold and snow that we had around a week ago.

Modern Youth and a Digression

I went to the One Stop shop at Garroways in Coffee Hall to buy milk. I prefer to go there rather than the Eaglestone shop, although they stock milk and it's generally a good shop for basic items. I preferred to go to the one at Garroways because they sell milk in six-pint bottles which means less traipsing to the shops when it runs out. Incidentally, on the subject of milk, I had a knock on the door the other morning and it was the milk roundsman asking if we wanted milk delivered. I suppose it's a shame that the supermarkets have virtually killed off the traditional milkman's deliveries. No, we didn't want to have it delivered, although in some ways it would be more convenient but in all honesty I don't think we'd benefit from having it delivered as we always pick it up when we're in Sainsbury's or which ever supermarket.

Anyway, before I wandered from the track. A little digression. A bit like Ronnie Corbett in his rocking chair when he did those marvellous monologues as part of the BBC Saturday evening shows "The Two Ronnies." Did he have a rocking chair? I'm not sure. But it was an armchair of some sort, surely? I'll have to do some research on that.  Or even Laurence Sterne's amazing book "Tristram Shandy" which goes off in all sorts of directions and never seems to get to the point. (Incidentally, a book which I have read and enjoyed immensely and can recommend.) Now, where was I? Oh, yes.  I was queueing at the till to pay and there was this individual in front of me with headphones stuck in his ears (earbuds, not necessarily headphones) and he was jigging away to his music, looking a right idiot and oblivious to the world around him. Do the youth of today realise how stupid they look, not only jigging around in silence (obviously not themselves if they can hear the 'canned' music through their ear-phones) but more stupid if wearing those big headphones, which must be heavy on their head? Also, thinking logically, how can you hear the noise of traffic if you're listening to loud music and even people having conversations around them? I don't suppose it any worse than someone going around with their smartphone glued to their hand and not paying attention to things. I was walking along one of the many corridors in the hospital the other afternoon (I think I was going to the pharmacy to pick up some medications for Carol which were on order.) This couple were walking along, one, a young boy, more interested in looking at his mobile, and they walked past me, and a few steps on I head this crash, he'd walked into a chair, obviously not paying much attention to the world around him. Most likely injured as a result, but more interested in texting or reading messages on Facebook than being aware of what's in the way. A little laugh to myself, not only as a result of this incident. but the other one earlier this morning.

What are the statistics, do you suppose, of how many people are injured or even killed, as a result of walking along looking at their smartphones and not paying attention to what they're doing? Or the same with those narcissists who insist on taking a selfie with their iPhones and falling over the edge of cliffs when they step backwards, or into the passing traffic along a busy road?  Must be quite a high figure. I've mentioned something similar about this when we visit Whipsnade or any other zoo. People seem more interested in taking selfies rather than taking photos of the animals  that are in the enclosures behind them. Not everyone, of course, but quite a large proportion.

First Chemotherapy Session

A hard freeze over-night made conditions outside quite difficult this morning. We had to be at the hospital at 9 o'clock. Apparently there was something of a mix-up over an appointment to have the PICC line attached for the chemotherapy (A Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter).  Carol had to go to the X-Ray department to have this line put in. I'm not entirely sure what was involved, but we walked all the way from the oncology department and when we got there were told that she wasn't booked, which was something of an annoyance. So we walked all the way back to the oncology department and a couple of telephone calls were made and she was booked in so we had to walk all the way back to X Ray department. Sitting round near the scanning rooms, where M.R.I. and X-Ray  two men in uniforms appeared in the main waiting area. At first we thought they might have been policeman, but when we saw they had a third individual chained to them it was clear that they were prison warders and the third individual was a prisoner. Then a nurse came through to where we were sitting and asked us to kindly move along the seating so they come come through to wait. No doubt the prisoner was going to have an X-Ray or be scanned by the M.R.I. scanner. The sights you observe when out and about.

It wasn't long before Carol was called in. I just had to wait. It was a longer wait than expected. I had my iPhone with me. The thing rang. It was one of those companies attempting to sell some sort of financial product, but I wasn't interested and told the guy on the other end of the line I wasn't interested but he tried in vain to keep the conversation going. I managed to end the call, but it's annoying to get these 'cold calls'. I can't think where they get my mobile number from and why they think it's alright to ring on the off-chance that you'd be interested in such a product. Apart from anything, I think it's an invasion of privacy.

Carol came out after having the PICC line put in. She said it was a relatively short procedure but the process of setting it up and then being signed off took longer. Seems crazy somehow.

We returned to the oncology unit. The nurses set up a drip with glucose first and after an hour or two the actual chemotherapy solution was set up. Towards the end of the session they set up carol with a small pump which we went home with so the treatment could continue over-night.  In all the session it took several hours and we eventually left the unit at around 5.30. People came in and spent the day similar to Carol, some leaving after several hours.

At the end of the day a doctor came in to tell us that there was a sign from the blood test that Carol was slightly anaemic and the following day she would need a blood transfusion. A pity we would need to come back the next day as we were hoping to have a day away from the hospital.

Crazy News Reporting

Why do the BBC insist on sending their news reporters out when weather conditions are really awful? On the past couple of days, when we've had really awful snow storms across most of the British Isles, on the early morning BBC Breakfast programme, it seemed necessary to send several news reporters out in the midst of what looked like blizzards, to stand next to a motorway (standing on a bridge, I might add, although I bet the producers would have liked them to stand on the hard shoulder or even in the central reservation) to do a piece straight to camera? What on earth does it add to anything? They did it when we had some really awful floods a few years ago, and even had a poor reporter actually standing in the middle of a flooded road, with the water lapping around his ankles. Why not just have them in the studio? Would it not be safer? Even when there are high seas, someone has to stand on the esplanade or as near as possible to the sea at some remote seaside location, with the waves crashing over the parapet. It wouldn't just be the reporter who's life is at risk. What about the cameraman, no doubt a sound recordist and probably an assistant. How do they justify this and what about doing some sort of risk assessment? I don't think it's just the BBC who do this, but we watch mostly their news output. I expect ITV and Channel Four do this, although ITN does the news on television for most of the commercial channels. I begin to wonder if the reporters get a choice for this type of reporting, or do they have to draw straws to go to these locations? Does it really add anything by putting these reporters in these locations? Would it be easier, and a good deal safer, to just let them do their report in a warm and dry studio? 

Snowy Conditions

I had to clear snow off the car this morning (Monday). I'm glad I went out early, as we had to go to the hospital as Carol had a blood test booked for 8.15 in the oncology department. The snow was a good eight inches deep all over the roof and bonnet. It was easily cleared with the ice scraper. Then I shovelled a path out as I didn't want Carol slipping over on the way out to the car. Fortunately the road out of Eaglestone was relatively clear, but some baffoon thought it absolutely necessary to park immediately opposite our driveway which was somewhat difficult to manoeuvre around and there was the possibility of sliding into it as we reversed out. There are several cars parked in the road and they're simply asking to be run into because of the snow and ice. Do they not have driveways to live on? Do their owners care? It would appear not.

Fortunately Saxon Street was relatively clear of snow as we drove towards the hospital, although you had to be careful as there were patches of ice and snow in the road. Deceptive, as there was the possibility of sliding if you were to brake suddenly and I wasn't prepared to risk such a thing. A queue of cars entering the hospital campus from Standing Way, but we were able to negotiate the inner ring road and got to the carpark behind the oncology department. The carpark barrier was raised so we could drive straight in and park. Very few other cars at the time, but the walk across the carpark to the hospital building was somewhat precarious as the ice and snow made walking difficult. We walked in to the building through the cardiology department. I remember visiting there some while ago when I had to have various tests done after my heart attack, one being a stress test (described in more detail in an earlier blog post.)

On entering the oncology department we found the place totally deserted. Strange to find an N.H.S. department without patients waiting. Carol confirmed her appointment with one of the nurses and I went to the Macmillan unit to get our car parking ticket stamped so we would have free parking. Several people wandered into the department as we waited. Carol was in having her blood taken when I returned from the Macmillan unit. It would seem that Monday morning is blood-testing time in this department. It was all over very rapidly and we left, waking gingerly back over the snow-covered road and into the carpark and home.

The carpark barrier was in the 'up' position as we left, which makes me laugh when there is so much fuss over parking at N.H.S. hospitals. It's quite obvious that the mechanism of these things can't cope when the temperature drops below a certain level. Oh well, not our loss as we don't have to pay once the ticket is stamped. Fortunately not a lot of traffic as we drove onto Marlborough Street and back into Eaglestone.

The snow would appear to be melting. I do hope so, as we have quite a few trips out and snow only makes life more difficult. Just hope it doesn't freeze as this would make things far more treacherous. 

Latest Television Viewing

We're totally captivated by Blue Planet 2. The photography is superb. I have to say I enjoy anything that David Attenborough attaches his name to. We had another wildlife documentary series on last year called 'The Hunt' which was just as captivating. Having recently bought a Hitachi 43 inch HD television,  this type of programme is a perfect viewing when you can see the amount of detail a set of this size reveals.

Carol recently bought a fish tank and we went to Dobbie's garden centre near Bletchley to buy two fish for the tank. I think the two fish are enjoying 'Blue Planet 2'. I'm sure they're watching the fish and other under-water inhabitants from the safety of their tank. There's a rock in the tank with a hollowed-out centre and they hide in this 'cave.' Meanwhile . . .  Alfie, or little Yorkshire Terrier, sits on the back of the sofa, just within view of the fish-tank which has been placed on a bookcase, and seems intrigued by our newest family members. It's difficult to judge what he makes of the fish, but no doubt it's the fact that they're moving about in their round home. We'll have to keep an eye on him to see that he doesn't interfere with the fish in their tank.

I have to say there's nothing like a really good bit of television drama. The BBC is renowned for it's classic adaptations of novels, probably best known for such things as 'Pride and Prejudice' with Colin Firth as Mr Darcey, which has to be the definitive version of the novel. So, when I heard that they were doing a new adaptation of 'Howard's End' I couldn't wait for it to be shown. At least if it's something that is adapted for television you know, generally speaking, that it will be given enough time to play out, unlike a film which will only have a couple of hour's screen time, in which case a great deal will have to be cut in order for it to fit a film's playing time.

'Howard's End,' the BBC adaptation of the E.M. Forster novel is extremely good. I have read the novel and saw the 1992 film version made by Ishmail Merchant and James Ivory and starring Emma Thompson and Anthony Hopkins. The new 4-hour production had a great deal to live up to. They seem to have spent a lot of time and effort on getting the period right. There's a real sense of place and the settings are well created.

We're currently enjoying a late-afternoon television show called 'Money For Nothing.' It's been running for quite a while. The idea is that Sarah Moore, a very clever designer/entrepeneur, visits local tidy-tips, where members of the public are taking their cast-off furniture, rubbish of all sorts, such as D.I.Y. remnants, doors, shelving, house-clearcut bits-and-pieces and takes stuff she likes (with these people's permission) and has it restored or made into new and exciting pieces of furniture which she then sells on, at a profit, and returns the profit to the people who took the broken and old items to the tidy-tip in the first place. It's part of the new culture of 'make and mend' or 'recycle.' Either this, or these items land up in land-fill. It just goes to prove that anything can be re-used or 're-purposed' into very stylish and chic pieces of furniture. This type of television programming makes a change from antiques and selling houses or mere trivial programmes about celebrities and gossip.

I love a really great comedy on BBC Four called 'Detectorists.' It's  written, directed and stars Mckenzie Crook together with Toby Jones. Very gentle, not laugh-out-loud comedy, doesn't have a cackling studio audience. Makes a change from a lot of comedy which is broad, noisy and brash. It's what I'd describe at thoughtful. There have only been two series and this will be the final series. A shame, but it probably went as far as it could. Hopefully McKenzie Crook will write more for television and probably film. Certainly a good start for a director and writer.

Sorry to say it, but I absolutely hate reality television and in particular, anything with 'celebrity' in the title. I'm certainly not a fan of things like 'Big Brother' or 'I'm A Celebrity, Get Me out of Here.' 'Strictly Come Dancing' drives me mad. I don't mind the dancing, but the hype that surrounds it, plus the awful audience clapping along with the music like tame monkeys and all that surrounds it, just not my idea of entertainment. The Saturday episodes go on interminably, and the comments of such as Craig Revel Horwood are just plain nasty at times. The whole thing is set up so that they get free publicity in the tabloid press and on social media. I'm not convinced that it's all 'live.' The Sunday evening results show must be pre-recorded, basically because I don't believe they'd send the audience home and then bring them back for the Sunday evening show. I still reckon it's recorded after the Saturday night show once the results have been decided.

Snowed Up

Sunday morning. I look out of the bathroom window to discover the road in front of the house is covered in snow. It looks like we're in for some cold and ice. I don't think we've had snow this early in the winter. So, the next question will be, what are the chances of a White Christmas? More than likely I would imagine. I just hope the Council gritters have been out on the Grid Roads across Milton Keynes, otherwise driving is going to be difficult. When we went to the hospital on Friday it would appear that the inner ring road around the site had been gritted, in preparation for snow.

As the morning developed, the snow has got heavier and thicker. This is a photograph I took on my iPhone at about 8.30 a.m. Church is off this morning. I know M.K.C.C. has cancelled their services but Shenley may have services but it's not such a good idea to drive anywhere as it's too risky and I need to be on stand-by to take Carol to her various appointments tomorrow and I can't risk having the car out of action. There is an Amber warning for most areas of the country. It's expected to be heavy until at least midday. 

Alfie not sure what to make of the 'white stuff.' Poked his nose out of the patio doors and went outside but soon came back in. I'm not sure what he thinks of it, but I think he prefers to be tucked up under our duvet where it's warmest.

Cold and Frosty Morning

It's been a cold and frosty but bright and sunny Saturday morning. I had to defrost the car before driving out mid-morning on my way to Garraway's for a few items for lunch. I'm glad I bought some spray defrost as otherwise it would have been a difficult job. Also using the scraper and the car's heated windows to melt the ice.

So glad Carol has no appointments until Monday. I went with her to the pain clinic within the Macmillan unit on Friday afternoon at the hospital and the doctor has increased the dosage of some of her medications. I had to go to the hospital pharmacy to collect the meds as the doctor wrote a prescription. A relatively long walk back towards the main entrance and then a 30-minute wait until the drugs were prepared and then one wasn't available and will have to be collected on Tuesday or at least when the pharmacy has a delivery.

We bought the Christmas tree in from the garden and Carol has been decorating it. It is the first time we've managed to have a live tree survive from one festive season until the next. I think it has grown considerably since last year, although a few of the lower branches needed cutting off as they hadn't gown and were brown and dead. 

Dark, Wet and Windy

The past few days we've been experiencing some wet and windy weather. This morning at around 9.15 I went to get fuel at the Shell station in Grafton Street and it was very over-cast and quite dark, almost as it it was early evening. It seems, even as I write this, that it's going to get very blustery. I can see the trees at the edge of the Redway, which runs behind our house, swaying in the wind and I get the feeling that we're in for a very windy couple of days and nights.

I've been with Carol this afternoon (Thursday) to a sort of briefing at the Oncology Department at Milton Keynes Hospital which explained how her chemotherapy will be delivered. Quite a few possible side-effects, but we won't know until the treatment begins. It annoys me now that I can park so close and it's such a short and easy walk into the hospital compared with what I had to endure when she was in Ward 20 for three weeks. Nobody told me that you could park so close. I was under the impression that the carpark we could see from her side room at Ward 20 was for hospital staff only. Unfortunately you have to find out these things for yourself and it will make life so much easier parking closer.

Living On The Farm

Malting Farm was not just our home, but was a fully working farm. There were other people who made the place function. The actual house, built in 1764 (how do I know? We had the ground plan of the original house framed and on the wall of my father's office, as well as being quite clearly marked on one of the down-pipes of the guttering.) My father employed several men, and during the summer months there were extra hands, usually during the harvest. My mother had to run the house, a large Georgian red-brick building. Two ladies came in to assist with cleaning, Mrs Freemantle, whose husband, Bob was the ploughman and tractor driver. They lived in a cottage which was behind the main house. I imagine at one time it must have been joined to the farm house. Bob was an avid gardener and had a plot behind the main garden. He grew vegetables. If you went near his beloved garden without his permission, woe betide you. He had a short temper. I don't think the other men on the farm liked him much.

Mrs Freemantle was a lovely lady. If Mum and Dad went away on there own (which wasn't very often, but when they did it was usually to sail at Brightlingsea.) she would come in to make sure we had meals and generally look after the house. We often went to stay with my grandparents, who lived at Mill Farm, abut two or three miles from Cardington Village.

The other lady who came in to clean the house was Mrs Jacques, who lived in the first house coming into the village from Bedford. Her husband worked as a farm labourer, but not in the village. The two ladies were great friends, as far as I know. I presume they were. I recall an incident when my mother had to lay off Mrs Jaques (I don't know why or what it was about.) But during one of the many village fetes or bazaars which were held during the year to raise money for the church, she had a stand-up row in public at one of these events. It was really embarrassing and I don't know how my mother managed to deal with it. I think it was the fact that it was so public which made it so embarrassing. I don't think Mrs Jacques ever came back to work at Malting Farm. I am fairly sure my mother didn't get rid of her as a worker because Mrs Jacques was very good at her job. When I think what a large house Malting Farm house it it was obvious that you would need extra people to help run it, particularly cleaning and the fact that there were seven of us as a family when I lived there.

Miss Fuller, who I've mentioned in an earlier post, came in every Wednesday to do mending (those were the days when people had their clothes mended, such as socks darned, trousers turned up, you mention it, clothes were expected to last longer when repaired. I suppose it was a hang-over from the War when there was the culture of 'Make Do And Mend,' which carried on into the 1950s and beyond with austerity. Perhaps it aught to come back today, although I suppose we have recycling.) She had come in from our neighbour's, the Porter's, and eventually came to look after my youngest brother Andrew, who was a baby at the beginning of the 1960s. She lived in a cottage which was immediately next to the garden of Malting Farm, but later moved to a cottage on the Green in the centre of Cardington Village.

Doug Pattle was stockman, meaning he was responsible for looking after the cattle. We had what was called a 'house cow' which was milked and the milk used by the household. This milk was 'raw' not pasteurised, although each year all the cattle on the farm were tested for T.B. I have to say 'raw' milk takes so much better than pasteurised, which took a lot of getting used to when we eventually had to have our milk delivered. The milk was taken to the dairy in the house and put in, how can I describe them any other way- flat pans, and left to stand and the cream scammed off for our use. Definitely great to have an almost limitless supply of such fine, tasty cream as well as full-fat milk for cooking, in tea and coffee and other drinks. As a child we had no choice but had to eat porridge for breakfast. Doug Pattle also drove us to school in Bedford. Some mornings my dad would take us, but on others Porter's pigman, Geoff Caves, took us. He used to look after their pigs at their farm in Cople as well as in a unit they had in Cardington. I remember the old car they used to ferry us into Bedford. I think it was a Rover of some kind. It always smelt of gone-off milk because I think he carried buckets of milk about in the car and it must have slopped over. The smell was unpleasant and sort of rank. I imagine the milk was used to feed the pigs. Strange how such things stick in your mind when you're a child. Smells particularly have a strong ability to bring back memories.

There were several other men who worked on the farm. Bert Gadsby, who was ancient when I remember him. He must have been well past retirement age at the time I'm thinking of. A Mr Huckle. Don't remember his Christian name. But when you were a child everyone was 'Mr' or 'Mrs' and you weren't supposed to call adults by their Christian names. I still don't know Miss Fuller's Christian name. I know it sounds strange now, but that was the sort of respect your had for your 'elders and betters.' Or Mrs Fremantle or Mrs Jacques Christian names.

There were also a set of ladies how appeared at certain times of the year, who came from Bedford. My father would go and pick them up and take them home in the Land Rover. They used to come to work in the Brussel sprout seed-bed (or whatever it was called) My father grew Brussels on the farm and the seed bed was a fairly small plot where the Brussels seeds were set and then, when it came to planting, they had to be hand-pulled and sorted, the poorest quality rejected and then taken to the field to be planted using a machine which was connected to a tractor and which was operated by several people sitting on he back and hand-planting the Brussel plants. Quite a difficult job, considering the plants had to be set at the correct distance from each other and whilst the machine was moving. I don't think I could have done the job as I think I would have suffered from motion sickness. My father produced Brussels which were a good deal larger than those you find in a supermarket today. It seems that the modern housewife wants Brussels which are probably a quarter of the size of those my father grew. They were picked in the autumn and winter months by men out in the fields, in all weathers, cold, rain, fog, bitter cold. Bent double. I think their hands much have turned to ice. I don't know how much they were paid, what their hourly rate was. These Brussels were bagged up and sent by lorry to Covent Garden. The farm dealt with a company called Bennet and Hawes and they came each evening for the day's load. They might have come daily or weekly, I don't know thinking about it now.

The same happened with potatoes. They would have been set from seed potatoes on a similar machine to the one used for Brussels. Potatoes need a lot of water and there was an irrigation system which was a set of aluminium pipes stretching across the fields and linked to a pump which was set up in the brook which ran through the farm. These irrigation pipes had to be moved at regular intervals and we had to help with this job.

Then there was the grain harvest, during the months of July and August. I was usually a tractor driver (probably my first experience of driving any sort of vehicle.) corn-cart, driving along side the confine harvester when it was still moving and when the cart was level with the augur which came out of the side of the combine, the corn was loaded into the cart behind the tractor (moving along in tandem with the moving combine. Not an easy job.) and the corn was loaded into the cart and then taken off to the drier unit at the bottom of Hill Foot outside Cardington or to Jordan's silo at Mile Road in Bedford. Or it was stored in a barn in Malting Farm in a pit and then lifted up via augur into a contraption devised by my father who was very adept at constructing such things. Probably taken somewhere  to be milled into flour for making bread or whatever.

I may have more to write about on this subject, so look out for a further blog post.

Christmas Over-Kill

I went out early to get my hair cut at my usual hairdresser's, Essential Barbers, in Monkston Park. As they open for business at 9.30 I arrived in good time and was inside the shop as soon as they opened up and was in the seat and having my hair cut almost immediately and was done and dusted within 30 minutes and then driving home. 

The mad Christmas dash is well and truly underway. Carol thought she had someone coming to visit this morning, but during the morning realised it was tomorrow, so we went out with the intention of having a coffee and something to eat in The Range and a good excuse to browse. As we turned into the estate at Winter Hill, where The Range is situated, I was followed by this inconsiderate individual who expected me to speed up within the estate. He drove as near as he could behind we and got quite aerated because I wouldn't do what he wanted. We went right into The Range Carpark and he went left into Bunning's carpark so why get so annoyed when he was going to be turning off within seconds? Some people just have no patience and expect to have the road entirely to themselves and really don't like the idea of someone else getting in their way. Crazy!

Not many parking spaces left in the carpark. Walking in through the front door of the store we were greeted by every conceivable type of Christmas tree lights, flashing, non-flashing and in between, pulsing, and glowing madly. Then, going up in the escalator we were greeted by two obscenely over-eager Father Christmas figures, which began singing horribly, certainly enough to give any child nightmares. Swaying about madly, and totally scary. An endless range of Father Christmas figures lined the outer edge, giving the impression of a sort of mad convention of the characters. Over-kill definitely.

The whole of the upstairs floor in The Range taken over by Christmas decorations. An aisle full of twinkly decorations that play music, but none very tuneful as they weren't in harmony with one another. Also, we found a row of interactive characters, sort of Santa's helpers, little green-and-red clad elves. You press the button on their hands and they play a Christmas song, but, being us, with a sense of fun, we have to set off a whole selection of them, a total cacophony. We did this in a store at Westcroft a couple of Christmases ago, where each figure set of the next figure, as they interacted with each other. It caused a great deal of amusement for not only ourselves but other shoppers!

Good to see we're helping the Chinese economy ticking over nicely for yet another year. Almost all of this Christmas stuff will be made in China or at least somewhere in the East. Not that I'm knocking their ability to take so many of our jobs. But I can imagine much of it being made in sweatshops and the staff working for a pittance and probably having absolutely no idea what a Christmas elf of glass bauble for a tree is and then packed up and loaded into several vast containers and then onto a ship and then sent across the sea to be sold in these places. And then, after the Christmas rush is over, returned to some vast warehouse and the following year sold at vastly reduced prices.

We then went to the café and had intended ordering paninis and coffee. Actually not a bad little place to eat, but there was a long queue and the man on the till didn't seem to know how to do his job and it was him fiddling about which was causing the queue. He had no idea how to operate the till. Just the company's lack of training which was obviously behind this. We eventually got our lattes and what looked like chocolate cake and sat and ate it. Not particularly nice, it was partly chocolate and partly some sort of mauve-coloured cake. Over-priced and not worth the effort

Carol bought a fish tank as she wants to get an aquarium, which we bought along with gravel and water treatment. We will have to leave the buying of the fish for another day, perhaps in Dobbie's or Frost's garden centres. We went home and she set up the tank, putting the water treatment in the water as it takes 24 hours before you can put any fish in.

Coming out of the store we saw a couple in a car in front of us who'd obviously had an almighty row. It looked as if he was sulking because she wanted to go Christmas shopping and he didn't. The body-language said it all. He drew up in their car and she got out and he drove off in a right mood and almost hit someone crossing the carpark with a load of shopping. Oh dear, if that's the effect Christmas has on people, is it really worth all the bother and stress? Surely not. Perhaps the musical and discordant decorations we saw upstairs in the store were a sort of symbol of this sort of total disharmony of the shoppers (or at least, some of them.) So much for it being a season of peace and happiness to all men (and women.)

Another Doctor's Appointment

Carol needed to have a doctor's appointment made this morning (Monday). Never always just a straightforward process, as you will probably realise if you read my blog posts regularly. It's never just a matter of ringing and getting an immediate answer and merely turning up. I get the impression that they are attempting to weed out the time-wasters, those who think it's fine to waste N.H.S. resources by making appointments for things like a cough or a cold, a broken finger-nail or a minor injury. I think people think of the N.H.S. as a first resort for every ailment they may have. My mother, who had been a nurse before she married, would have had a range of medications in her armoury of cures about the house when we were children, from a good stock of plasters, bandages, aspirins, and other first aid equipment. I don't ever remember going to the doctor for minor injuries. I don't ever remember going to Casualty or A and E (Accident and Emergency) as a child. She could always deal with these matters herself. Why can't people today take more care of themselves and not expect everything to be dealt with by the N.H.S.? Common sense seems to have been left behind. When the N.H.S. is stretched to the limit, not just financially, but by staff shortages, it would be better if most people learnt to be self-reliant. Just stock up on basic things in a first aid cabinet, and how to deal with minor injuries and ailments. Leave the doctor's surgery as a last resort, even going to a Walk-In Centre of A and E department unless it's a real emergency or you can't deal with it yourself.

I began ringing the surgery at Ashfield Medical Centre yesterday morning at around 8.30 a.m. I was surprised how quickly I managed to get through and there wasn't that endless wait with that annoying music which you have to listen too. Carol managed to explain why she needed to see a doctor. She had been sent a letter from Ashfield asking her to make an appointment with her registered doctor, but apparently he was on leave so she had to have an appointment with another doctor. The appointment was at 9.50.

I've just seen a piece on BBC Breakfast about how many doctor's appointments are wasted by people who make an appointment and don't cancel them when they don't turn up.  Usually young affluent men according to research. WHY? Is it possible to merely ring the surgery and cancel your appointment if you don't need it? Somewhere in the region of £160 million is wasted when this happens. So, here's one area which needs sorting out as it's a scandal that people don't turn up for an appointment they've made. Just think what could be done with that amount of cash if it was saved.

We drove to the surgery, giving ourselves plenty of time to not only get there but to find a parking space. The surgery was surprisingly deserted when we arrived in the waiting area. One or two people and one poor man with a really awful cough. I can attest to a horrible cough myself which I'm still dealing with.

Carol was called in to the doctor's surgery. Well, you don't get 'called in', as your name appears on a digital screen. You have to sign in using the compute system when you arrive (which seems to have been up-graded since my last visit.) One of the lady doctors, one we haven't seen before (I always go in with Carol when she has an appointment.) and Carol had to go through all the medications she is on since leaving hospital (quite an extensive list.) Some meds have had their dosage increased and a new one which is a sleeping tablet. Hopefully these changes will help deal with the pain Carol is experiencing and should help her have a decent night's sleep. I have to say that this doctor was very sympathetic and took her time to deal with Carols' concerns and we weren't rushed through as we might have had with some of the other doctors in this surgery. We had to order some of her repeat medications and the doctor printed out several prescriptions which we took to Cox and Robinson's pharmacy which is a couple of doors along from Ashfield.

We had to wait what seemed an excessively long time to get the medications made up from the prescriptions. The staff seemed to be on a go-slow for whatever reason and it can't have been because they were busy as there weren't that many other people waiting. But never mind. Actually would have been better if we'd gone to Lloyd's pharmacy in Sainsbury's but, as Cox and Robinson's is so close it seemed the obvious place to go to get the prescriptions made up. Sitting and waiting and being bored silly in the process. Moan over.

Carol was pleased to be out with me in the car, away from the house. We then drove to Marks and Spencer near the football stadium. Considering it was so close to Christmas, it was quiet and we managed to park close to M and S. We did some food shopping and had a browse and by the time we'd finished it was time to return to the car and go home.

Annoying Television Commercials

Who loves television commercials? It's annoying that your favourite television show has to be interrupted by these often crass and plain stupid promotions for stuff you probably don't want or need, but, as ITV and other channels depend on them for their finances they're a necessary part of life. Many are fun and quite harmless. They pass before your eyes and after a while you don't really notice them, but others are just plain annoying and irritating. I'll endeavour to give my list of some of the worst. I have to admit that a handful are very good, either because they are amusing, but are well crafted and worth countless viewings. A great many directors begin their careers making television commercials. For example, Ridley Scott, who went on to make films such as 'Blade Runner,' cut his teeth making commercials for Hovis, the one which has the young lad riding a bicycle down a hill (which is supposed to be somewhere in the North of England but was actually shot at Gold Hill in Shaftsbury, Dorset) and the whole used Dvorak's 'New World Symphony' as the background musical score for the advert. Also, many of the Guinness ads, particularly the one with the horses in the surf is quite brilliant and clever. But the rest . . . well, just read on.

Why is the advert for Cillit Bang so incredibly annoying? Who is Barry Scott? Why is he obsessed with this product? Does he do all the cleaning in his home? He is actually played by actor Neil Burgess. Are we expected to believe that he invented this product? Why does he have to shout so much and why does the product have such a stupid name? It does work quite well, but why give it such a silly name. It doesn't make any noise, definitely not bang in any way shape or form. I feel sorry for his wife or partner if he spends all his time shouting to get attention. What kind of life do they have if he can't communicate except by shouting, 'bang, and the dirt is gone!' Does he have an exceptionally clean house? Wouldn't it annoy his partner if he spends so much time cleaning? And shouting all the time? Not a sound basis for a long-term relationship.

Another annoying advert is the one for Go Compare, with that stupid opera singer with the irritating curly moustache who keeps popping up all over the place. Does he not realise that he's annoying and keep out of the way? Perhaps that's why advertising agencies use these characters, we hate them, so we remember them. Wouldn't you want to kick someone up the backside if someone who keeps singing in a crazy operatic style and interrupting people when they least expect it. In the latest advert he's perched on top of an aeroplane. How did he get there and how on earth can he sing with the wind whistling past him? Why doesn't he fall off? Why doesn't health and safety intervene and stop him doing such a dangerous thing? It's so unconvincing and obviously done with green screen. It's about as realistic as fake snow. How do they manage to fly under Tower Bridge without falling off? I know it's just a television ad and not supposed to be 'real.'

The Safe Style adverts for double glazing were fairly annoying. They were led by someone who almost jumped out of the screen and into your living room and was so forceful in his approach to selling you almost felt compelled to make an order, pushing over a load of windows as he shouted at you. 'By one, get one free!' he screamed at you. Enough to make you want to put your boot through the television screen. I notice they've abandoned that style of advertisements and have gone for a far gentler approach for their ads. Did they not realise that it might actually put off customers?

Sofa ads are generally annoying. Why do they always seem to advertise sales that companies such as D.F.S. always seem to have? Do they never sell their sofas at full-price? And why on earth is it so important that if you order it's got to be in time for either Christmas or Easter? I have mentioned this in another post, so perhaps I shouldn't repeat myself. And why do they have people who front these ads with such irritating behaviours? Women with high-pitched voices? Or who jump up and down on the sofas. or fling themselves across them in seductive fashion? Or work in cheap comedy, such as the one for Oak Furniture World or whatever it's called? The one where the two salesmen try to out-do each other and one keeps knocking on the furniture with his knuckles? What's going on there? To make sure we get the message that their furniture is made of solid wood and not plastic? And why use initials for your company? What does D.F.S. or S.C.S. stand for?

Having done a Google search for 'Annoying television commercials,' it's interesting how many of the lists I find have the adverts I list on here, the Cillit Bang and Go Compare and Safe Style one's in particular.

Christmas Shopping

I went into the Central Shopping Centre on Friday (what is it's proper title, I never know. MK Central Shopping Centre? You ask me. I really don't know. Does it matter? It's called the Centre MK) It was later than I'd have chosen. We had a Sainsbury's delivery, as we'd decided it was easier to do the grocery shopping on-line. It cost £6.50 for the privilege, but once in a while it's worth it. You have what you've ordered before saved in 'favourites,' so you can go to that at the beginning of your 'shop' and it saves traipsing around the store with a trolley. I could go on about the ease of on-line shopping versus shopping in the actual store, such as why they insist on changing where your usual items are because it's Christmas and things like crackers, wrapping paper and mince pies get preference over jars of sauce or breakfast cereal. We'd booked the delivery between 10-11 a.m., but the delivery man decided to come early, so it was unpacked and put away a good deal quicker than anticipated. Which is why I drove into the centre of Milton Keynes when I did.

The ground-level carpark where I usually park was jam-packed. Not a single spare space. So I had to find a space outside in the other parking area. It cost more. It's £1 for two hours in the larger carpark but £4.50 for a few hours in the outer area. I had a problem parking and when I found a space I have to admit I didn't park as tidily as I might have done.

The shopping centre was heaving. I don't think I've ever seen it as busy. What on earth is it going to be like closer to Christmas Day?

I had to go to Marks and Spencer first. I shan't say what it was I was looking for because if Carol reads this it will spoilt the surprise of one of her Christmas presents. I'd seen whatever it was when I was in there a while ago, on one of the displays when you walk in. I couldn't find what I was looking for immediately, so I had to ask a member of staff who was really helpful and we located the item very speedily. I then had to pay for it and the queue at the till was quite long, but there was no alternative but to wait to pay.

I had intended stopping to have something to eat in one of the numerous places to eat, but each time I walked past places such as Costa, Starbucks or Gregg's, there were long queues so I gave up. I reached Middleton Hall, which is where the annual Christmas display was situated. There was the usual mini train ride, a carousel and an array of wood cabins which were set up selling all manner of craft items.  I have to say it's been rather a disappointment for the past couple of years. They seem to have lost any sense of imagination, unless they have less money to spend on it. It seems more focussed on getting people to part with their cash, for example, so that children visit Father Christmas in his grotto. It's just not as good as it used to be, I'm afraid. They had a Peter Pan-themed display one year, which was rather good, with a life-sized ship and Peter Pan standing on the rigging. But this year's is rather feeble I have to say.

I went into John Lewis. The store is next to Middleton Hall. I walked through to the escalator as I wanted to get to the haberdashery department which is on the second floor. It always used to be on the ground floor and was easy to find, but when the store was refurbished a few years ago, it was moved upstairs. Also, the restaurant was moved up there, too, and used to be on the floor at the front of the store overlooking Middleton Hall. At Christmas you could drink your coffee and eat your sandwich or whatever and watch people as they walked through the Christmas display.

I was going to look for a work box for Carol's crochet work. She had ordered something on Amazon, but for some strange reason it got lost. Don't ask me how. The cost has been refunded, but she was somewhat disappointed when it didn't get delivered as promised. I wasn't that impressed by the selection in John Lewis. I had a look into the restaurant with a view to stopping to have a coffee and a bite to eat, but even there it had a long queue to wait so I gave up and left. Infact, by now I was getting a little bit fed up with shopping and decided to make my way back to the car.

It seemed an extremely long walk back to the carpark. As I drove out, I noticed that someone had tucked a piece of paper under the lefthand side windscreen wiper blade. I ignored it, thinking it was probably some sort of  piece of publicity which would have been placed on all the vehicles parked in that carpark. I didn't bother to take it off, but it was annoying when I had to turn the wipers on when it began to rain and it still wouldn't come off as they moved back and forth across the windscreen. It wasn't until this morning, when I went out to get Carol some ibuprofen and came back in to park at the front of the house that I noticed what had been written on it 'Idiot' or something, as a reference no doubt to the way I'd parked earlier the previous day. I'm sorry someone had thought it necessary, in their bad temper, to leave such a note on our car. Just shows that, during the stress of Christmas shopping, people don't have any patience for others., particularly those attempting to park correctly in a carpark.

Further TV Walk-On

I'm just thinking of any more walk-on or supporting work I might have done. I had to drive a car in the opening sequence of 'Joint Account' which was a sitcom shown on BBC1 in the early 1990s, starring Hannah Gordon and Peter Egan. The sequence was filmed in a village somewhere near Stratford-Upon-Avon. Myself and another walk-on were supposed to be bailiffs repossessing two cars and had to go to the front door and take the keys from Hannah Gordon and then go to the cars which were parked in the road outside and then drive off. Unfortunately the car I had to drive was an  car with automatic gearbox, and I'v never driven an automatic car so they had to swap the cars round. When the show was eventually aired I was seen clearly on screen. This must have been in the early 1990's.

I used to do a lot of work on the ITV show 'The Bill.' It was at the time I was with an agency based at Shepperton Studios, called Screenlite. I think one of the ladies who ran the agency had a daughter who was a production assistant on the show or something, so Screenlite seemed to get most, if not all, the Walk-On and Supporting work. I was a SOCO on one episode (Scene of Crime Officer) and a solicitor in another (in a court scene). Most of this show was filmed in and around Merton in south London. You would be assigned to one of the two units working on the show, Red or Blue, so it was vital that you knew which one you were on. I imagine it was because it was filmed more or less like a factory production line and was being filmed on a sort of rota basis. They moved the production base across London, because I remember doing some work on 'The Bill' somewhere near Wormwood Scrubs, on a sort of out-door lot, with streets and houses which were used for various locations. Also, somewhere in Battersea, and the unit was set up alongside the Battersea Arts Centre. I don't remember exactly what we were filming. It might have been in a pub nearby, but I simply can't remember.

I worked on something which was filmed in London ( I did a good deal of television walk-on work in and around London.) But this one in particular, I'm not sure where exactly. It was supposed to be a lecture hall or something. We were the audience. We were given ear protectors. Someone on the stage or platform was delivering a speech or perhaps it was a political meeting. I think it was set in the 1940s or 1950's so we would have been dressed accordingly. I believe it was an extremely hot day but, being dressed in very thick suits, woollen and uncomfortable, which didn't help with the extreme heat. Someone burst into the hall and aimed a pistol at the man on stage. As soon as the shot was fired we (the audience) had to fall on the floor and hide under the chairs. I'm not entirely sure what was going on or what television programme it was for and don't even know whether it was ever broadcast. I think it was in the centre of London somewhere, but to this day I can't recall. The whole sequence was repeated a couple of times and then we were all released to go home. But, because we had ear protectors, it was extremely difficult to hear directions, or even the 'bang' of the shot which was fired. I suppose I could discover more about what this was if I do a search on Google or even look on I.M.D.B. which is a very good source of information on television and film production.

The Jaclyn Agency sent me to do a job in Colchester. I think it was some housing estate. A group of us were put in overalls. It was for a television commercial for H.E.A.T Electric or something. The camera was on  a sort of cherry picker or access platform. On cue we were supposed to jump in the air and wave our hands above our heads (strange, I know.) The director didn't know how to shout 'action' or 'cut.' We did the sequence several times. It took no more than an hour. It paid quite nicely for the time it took, and at the end I just drove home.

The two ladies who ran Jaclyn were so nice, Julie and Marilyn. Whenever they rang to find out my availability for work, they would always chat. They even came to some of the locations, which must have been quite an effort, when you think of the distance they would have to drive from the village they were based in near Norwich, often turning up at 6-7 a.m. on some shoots. When I joined Jaclyn I just sent my details and a couple of photographs for their books and never met these two ladies until they turned up on the set of something or other and it was odd when they just said 'Hi John!' and the fact I had only spoken to them on the phone and they only knew me from a couple of photographs. I think they came to the location when we were filming 'Lovejoy' in Lavenham or a village somewhere in deepest, darkest Suffolk. It's that sort of personal detail that's missing from walk-on and Supporting work.

 Everything is now done on the internet, you upload your details and a couple of photographs. If you get selected for work you don't get a phone call (except in a very few cases.) and probably get a text message or email to say 'you've been put forward.' The chances of actually being used is so remote. I was used to being called for 'availability' when you say 'yes' or 'no' and then just being given details of where the location is and then the time you have to be there and just go on the specific day.

Fine and Sunny, But Cold

We visited Hobbycraft at Rooksley on Thursday morning because Carol was looking for something to keep all her crocheting bits and pieces in. Even though it's a Thursday and early it was surprisingly busy. People going slightly potty because it's almost Christmas. We looked in Smyth's, which replaced the Comet warehouse which used to be in that unit until they went bust. We'd seen a special English Heritage edition of the boardgame Cluedo, which we rather fancied, but is currently out of stock. I don't think it will be sold anywhere else except in an English Heritage shop at their properties, and we haven't seen it on Amazon or in Toys R Us, but we had to look in Smyth's. Then we walked along to Hobbycraft but we couldn't find anything worth having for Carol's crochet bits and pieces but we bought a couple of large balls of wool, one of which she will turn into a scarf for myself. We went into Costa's, a few doors along and part of Next Home. We had Billionaire's hot chocolate. I had to queue for some time to get served and when I reached the till I was told that they had no cream to put in our drinks. I don't think the manager (I presume that was his role.) didn't seem amused when I asked for a reduction of the price considering they had no cream. It was nice, hot choc with a layer of caramel at the bottom of the glass, although a bit sickly-sweet. Nevertheless, it was nice to get out of the house. We wandered around the Next store, which was all household items, furniture and accessories and a lot of Christmas decorations.

We drove back home via Watling Street and then came down Chaffron Way. It's clear why this section of road was closed off on Sunday when I went to Shenley Christian Fellowship on Sunday morning, because there were sections which have been resurfaced. It would have been difficult to do any work with traffic moving through. 

Gas Boiler Safety Check and Other Matters

Our gas boiler needs it's annual safety check. It actually ran out last February. We have the certificate that we had when it was installed. If you read my blog posts on a regular basis, then you will remember we had a new boiler installed in February 2016. We had to go through the Council to get our landlord's address and telephone number in order to get the thing replaced. We hadn't been notified of a telephone number change as we only had a number which wasn't functioning when we tried to call it. Unfortunately the landlord has no idea what his legal responsibilities are regarding the boiler being tested annually and have a safety certificate. I had considered having this done myself, by getting a registered gas engineer do the work, but I have been told by several people that it's the landlord's responsibility. I rang him well over a week ago to ask to have this work done. He didn't seem to know who I was, which was a bit of a worry, but he eventually realised that I was a tenant of his property.  When I had no response from him as to when this work would be carried out I had to ring him again yesterday evening. His response was that he had attempted to contact the engineer who had installed the boiler but couldn't get through and had left a voicemail message. I said that I would contact the Council regarding this matter and if he couldn't get hold of the engineer I would find someone myself. This seems to have done the trick, because he rang me at around 7.45 last night to say that he had spoken to the gas engineer and he would ring me direct to make an appointment to do the gas check for me. I await that phone call this morning. Mr Landlord seems to be under the impression that, because the boiler is relatively new (well, it will be two years since it was installed in February.) and seems unaware of the fact the thing needs a safety check, which appals me as he is the owner of the property and as such has a responsibility to us to have the thing checked for our safety.

I went out to do some shopping in Sainsbury's. Carol got a call from the gas engineer and he's coming to do the gas safety check on Friday morning. So at last that's sorted. Well, it will be completed once the certificate is handed over.

 Wednesday, 3.15 p.m.

As I write this, the gas engineers who installed the boiler have been and done the safety check and it's passed. They were able to come this afternoon instead of Friday. Our landlord will have received a reminder a month before it was due but must have ignored it. No problems so that is done for another year.

Carol does crochet. Since she's been at home, off work sick, she's made Alfie a lovely blanket done in crochet. She made her mum a scarf and I bought her a magazine which had a free kit with it to make a brown bear (called Brian.) As a result of all this she has no end of wool, hooks and other bits and pieces. She wanted a box or at least something to keep the things in and went on Amazon to find a really good kit. Ordered and paid for using debit card. It should have arrived the next day (as we have Amazon Prime we get post and packing paid for as well as fast-track delivery.) We then got an email to say the package wouldn't arrive until Today (Wednesday.) But this morning we had another email telling us that, unfortunately, it had got lost. How or why has it got lost? It got as far as Peterborough and that's as far as it could go. No doubt some employee of Amazon put it in the wrong place, bin, shelf or whatever. We still don't have any idea what happened to this order and as far as I know, neither does Amazon. A complete mystery. Will it ever be found? Could Sherlock Holmes solve the mystery? We have since had a refund, but you would expect it to appear at some time in the future. Watch this space for further revelations.