Clearing Out

(Wednesday)I've managed to take two boxes of paperbacks and DVDs to the Barnado's donation centre in Oldbrook. They were more than happy to receive all these items. But there's quite a considerable amount yet to sort and possibly dispose of. I should have a lot more space to play around with. It is stuff that has either been watched once, such as DVDs, and books that have been read- once- and probably won't be read again. But I'm not getting rid of any of my history books, paperback or hardback, as they are good reference material.

I've been looking at some of the written material I have saved on my laptop. I am beginning to continue with what I started, but had been delayed, for want of a better word, when Carol was diagnosed and then spent so much time in hospital, that I didn't have the time or either inspiration to continue with it. Having read a lot of it back, and in particular, a lot of the notes, I'm going to pick up where I left off. I wanted to print out some of this material, because it's easier to read as hard copy rather than on a computer screen. The problem was that I couldn't get the Canon printer to print, basically because the ink cartridges had run low or had barely enough ink to do the job. Then I wasn't sure how to open the printer to gain access to the cartridges, but after some effort I managed to open the printer and extract the empty cartridges. I decided to visit what used to be Staples, but has since become Stationary Outlet. When this transformation happened I don't know, but it was the only place I could think of where I could obtain the ink cartridges. I then got close to the store and the road was blocked off with a temporary fence and a large 'Road Closed' sign in place. Did they not want my custom? Why the need to close off access? What annoys me most of all is that there's no sign of any roadworks, no men with picks or shovels, wearing hard hats and hi-viz jackets, no sign of any sort of work. So, I had to go back the way I had come, turning round in the road and going into the estate where Stationary Outlet was situated. On parking the car and walking in through the entrance, the whole place has changed. Shrunk, more like. I don't know what was going on. Presumably they didn't required such a large store or 'footprint' as I think the term is, but I managed to find the two appropriate ink cartridges, but somewhat shocked at the cost of them, but as they are a necessity, there's no point in complaining.

Anyway, I got home and managed o put the cartridges into the printer and it's now working successfully.

I've been for the last bereavement counselling session at Willen Hospice. The lady who has been helping doesn't think I need any more support in that respect. I think she is right. I'm definitely moving on. The first time I went there it was quite difficult but this time it seemed easier. She rang last evening to tell me about the appointment today, but I knew we'd arranged it to be the 6th March, because it's the day before what would be Carol's 55th birthday. I had an idea it was wrong but it didn't matter particularly. Because it has been so sunny and warm and there are no end of daffodils out, it made it so much easier. Carol loved daffodils, which is why I'm putting cut daffodils in the vase on the widnowsill in the lounge because that is what she loved. I will keep them going until they finish and they're nearly always displayed in the supermarket near the till so there's no excuse not to buy them.

I came home from Willen and took Alfie out for a walk. We came across a lady walking to little terriers (I think they were terriers of some sort.) Alfie was off his lead and ran rings around them, but they didn't seem in the least bit interested. Alfie always wants to make friends with the dogs he comes across in Eaglestone Park, but it seems not many want to be friends with him, which is a real pity.

Scratching Dog

Alfie has been scratching a lot lately. I know that all dogs do this, and it can usually be caused by fleas. He hasn't got any nasty raw patches on his skin and his coat hasn't gone dull which is usually a sign of the presence of fleas, but just in case he had any little visitors, I went into Morrison's and had a look in the pet section for some sort of treatment. I chose Bob Martin Clear Spot-On. I think we've used this before when we had two dogs, but having spent so much time in hospitals with Carol over more than eighteen months, unfortunately Alfie has been neglected to a certain extent. Which was the same regarding having him groomed and the rather unpleasant matter which had built up under his eyes, which is more or less now under control. He doesn't like me touching either areas when I attempt to clean these areas with cotton wool soaked in water. I think he enjoys the fuss and readily comes to sit on my knee, then growls noisily when I go near with the cotton wool. Strange little dog that he is! Take his collar and harness off Alfie and he wonders what on earth is going on. You have to take them off because the flea treatment won't work properly. I went to put his collar on and he started barking and yapping, no doubt thinking he was going out for a walk or something else. But no.

(Monday)I've been into the Council offices to give them details of the Teachers' Pension payments. I had to because otherwise if they knew I had it without them knowing I could be done for fraud. I had to sign in at the touch-screen computer at the reception and then took the ticket with the number on and had to just sit and wait. It was probably around 45 minutes before I got seen.

I'm supposed to get what is called a 'Death In Service' payment. I didn't know about this until Chloe mentioned it, because she is an art teacher. The HR department kept badgering Carol to get her to be 'medically retired.' I can see why now. Even though she was on 'Sick Pay' and supposedly still on their books as an employee, as soon as she signed anything so that she was no longer officially an employee of Milton Keynes Academy, then they could avoid paying me anything such as the 'Death In Service' payment. I have given various bits of information to Chloe who is passing it on to the finance department at the school where she works and they will deal with this for me. I'm just annoyed that nobody let me know what I was entitled to. You don't get any sort of support to find out what benefits you can apply for (except, of course, the C.A.B. lady who works for Macmillan.)

I've got to clear out a lot of stuff if I'm to ever move from this house. There's loads of stuff in the smaller bedroom. It's piled on top of the bed and if you move some of it there'll be an avalanche. I can't deal with Carol's clothes. I'm going to have to get someone to help me. It's all far to personal. I know it sounds crazy, but that's what usually happens when someone dies and there are clothes and other items left behind. It can go in bin bags and go to a charity shop or somewhere where it can be recycled or sent to places where this stuff can be used. I'm sure that's what Carol would want. Just writing about this on here is sort of therapeutic and I can deal with it. It is taking time. I know we have lots of books. I do tend to hoard to some extent. Paperbacks can be given to a charity shop, particularly those books that I've read once and won't ever likely read again. A lot of hardbacks are useful, a lot of art books, particularly Dorling Kindersley stuff, and history books or those connected to my interests regarding cinema, animation, history or similar.

I would never have known how to get this payment unless I'd contacted Carol's union, the N.A.S.U.W.T. I had no idea how I would go about claiming anything, so I rang the area office and they sent out the relevant paperwork for me to fill out. It wasn't until I got a more recent telephone call from a caseworker that I was told that if I went to the Teachers' Pensions website and downloaded the form to fill in and then printed off that I was able to take things further. I had to get Carol's employee number from Milton Keynes Academy and put this on the form and then post off that things began to move. I only knew I had received a payment when I went to my bank account on line to discover the money had been put into the account. No letter at this point to inform me of how they had worked out the payment, so I rang Teachers' Pensions and they told me that a letter had been posted out, and quite by chance I got the letter in the post a couple of hours later. Just a coincidence really.

(Tuesday) I took out Alfie as usual this morning. He just won't let me forget him. He sits on the sofa when I'm working on the laptop and stares at me. When we eventually went out, we did the longer walk, ending up walking along the redway that runs alongside Marlborough Street and then back home along the redway from the hospital and going behind the house. It was still chilly but the sun did eventually make an appearance.

I've been out this morning, to Homebase. I wanted to get some plastic boxes in which I could pack such things as books, DVDs and other items, so that it can be taken to a charity shop or shops. I wasn't expecting to find such a good selection in the area where you walk in. A larger, deeper, box and a set of several shallower boxes, which are ideal for packing paperbacks. They have lids and should fit in the back of the car quite comfortably.

I have done the first shift, for want of a better word, clearing out some of the stuff in the small spare room. I have two boxes of paperbacks packed up. I can't spend too much time on this. I'm not really supposed to lift heavy items, but there's no other way of getting this job done. If by chance I move from this house, all this will need to be done, so I've decided I have to start on it. I can do all this is small stages which means it's likely to take some time to complete. Some paperbacks taken off the shelves in the living room, which means I now have some vacant space. Just great to have started on this job. I've been thinking about it for some time, but hadn't thought how to go about it. But I still have to sort out Carol's clothes, shoes and other things which I just can't touch. I know it sounds crazy, but it's too personal. I will get around to it eventually, but not at the moment.

Foggy Morning

(Saturday)Another foggy start to the day, but I expect the sun will come out during the day. I had intended going out a good deal later than usual, say, just after 8 o'clock, but Alfie wouldn't have it. So we did our usual walk across the park. Spring is definitely making its mark, with no end of daffodils and crocuses showing themselves as well a wide range of blossom, most notably may, or is it called hawthorn? Anyway, the white blossom.

Later. Having been to do some shopping in Sainsbury's, after I'd done a load of washing, I come home and unload the groceries and put it all away, and then watch some television. I've been watching 'The Crown' on Netflix and decide to watch the first part of a documentary series which chronicles the story of the House of Windsor from it's birth a century ago. It's called, very imaginatively 'The Royal House of Windsor.' It draws heavily on documents and other papers kept in the royal archives at Windsor Castle. Very interesting to me because I love history and gives more background to what eventually becomes the framework for the storyline for 'The Crown.' Particularly interesting is the build-up to the Abdication of EdwardVII in 1936. I later watched the second episode as I got really hooked into the first episode. This is the factor which seems to make Netflix so good. You get all the episodes of a show to watch when you feel like it. I don't think I very often watch television 'live,' at the time it is broadcast, or if I do, it's very rare to watch 'live' broadcast television.

I was correct in what I said at the beginning of this post. It has turned out particularly warm and sunny. It certainly seems as if spring as arrived.

Sunday morning. Alfie was being as insistent as usual. He makes sure I know he wants to go out for his routine walk. More like a run, but never mind. He went off on his explorations along the path round the park. Then I heard a sort of knocking sound. I couldn't be sure what it was. It happened several times and now I'm sure it's a woodpecker! It was far too distinctive a sound. If so, its the first time I've ever heard such a sound and I can't believe I heard it in the middle of Milton Keynes and at such an early hour.

It's getting lighter earlier, so we go out earlier, much to Alfie's relief. He becomes like a coiled spring, with the build-up to getting out. It was deceptive, looking a good deal warmer than it was. I usually wear my fleece under my Regatta jacket, which I did as usual, but I didn't wear my gloves. There was a certain amount of ice of the car windscreen which is generally a sign of how cold be has been over night. I don't think it will take too much effort to scrape it off before I drive off to church at 8.40.

Later still. Really quite warm and sunny as I write this at 12.00 midday. I've been to church and then went into Morrison's. Trying to find something to get rid of fleas as Alfie has been scratching a great deal lately. I haven't seen anything (fleas, I mean) but if I put this stuff on him it will at least put paid to anything that might be lurking in his coat. It is quite long and I'm not sure I can see anything. Anyway, I'll give it a go. You can buy something to put in your dog's food, but I think this is a better solution.

1300th Blog Post- More Television Viewing

So, I've reached another landmark in my blogging. This is the 1300th blog post! I admit that not every post is a brilliant literary masterpiece, but at least I've kept it going. So, read on and be  either intrigued or bored silly!

I've signed up to Netflix. After I was lent the first series of 'The Crown' on DVD I couldn't wait to get into season 2, so it was a simple matter of signing up to this streaming service, and there's so much to see on there that it's worth the £7.99 a month. What I like, compared with Sky, is that there's no commercials! Sky and ITV are funded by the sale of advertising, but an hour's drama (or any other type of show, come to that.) has at least 15 minutes of advertising. That's about every 15-20 minutes. It annoys me that you have to endure a bout of yawn-inducing commercials about stair lifts, car insurance advertising and sofa adverts when there is only barely 10 minutes of a show left before it finishes. Not so on Netflix. I've got only two more episodes of season 2 to go and I can't wait to get to the next season. I'm intrigued to see how Olivia Colman portrays H.M. Queen. Clare Foy has been quite brilliant, particularly getting the accent right as well as the tiny expressions, the fold of the arms, those little looks with the eyes. It's not always what a character says that counts, but often the little non-verbal things that make a bit of acting work so well. So it is with her performance. I didn't think I'd enjoy it so much as I have. How on earth did they manage to film so much at Buckingham Palace? The exteriors of course. I don't think for one moment any of it could possibly be filmed inside, but how could you duplicate the iconic front elevation, the gates and the Victoria Monument? I imagine there must be a certain amount of trickery with C.G.I., but then the rest must have been in those famous locations. Alright, I admit that the show is really a glorified soap, but it's soap done with real conviction and truth. I'm wondering what permission they had to have in order to portray not just Her Majesty, but other still-living characters. It's so much better than a lot of what more traditional television has to offer, such as Downton Abbey. Such boring characters, I mean the aristos. Robert, Earl of Grantham, as portrayed by Hugh Bonneville, is such a stuffed shirt that there's nothing to like about him. It's the 'downstairs' staff where all the action is. They're far more interesting and believable. I can see why the Americans love it and it was apparently more popular there an over here in Britain. Perhaps because they seem to enjoy anything that smacks of class divisions, deference and so on.

I love anything to do with history. We're spoilt for choice. at the moment. Lucy Worsley, doing a series on American history, called, 'American History's Biggest Fibs,' and revealing that some incidents aren't all they seem and that history is written by the winning side or for propaganda reasons. I really love her to bits. She makes history fun and not boring, which is what probably put me off when I was at collage in the 1960's and attempting to do A Level History. She really throws herself into everything she does and loves dressing up! Why couldn't I have a teacher of history like Lucy? I've signed up to something called 'History Hit,' which is run by Dan Snow. It's a sort of Netflix of history, streaming documentaries and podcasts with a history connection. I have it for £1 a month for three months and then it's about £5 a month, but well worth it. Nothing on there that talks down to you, treats you as if you've got half a brain, thank goodness. If you go on BBC iPlayer there's lots of archive stuff. A lot of back-catalogue material, not just documentaries, but drama. One such I'm rewatching is the BBC adaptation of 'Bleak House,' which was done more like a soap-opera, in 30-minute episodes and definitely not done in the usual 'classic serial' style. Rapid cutting, no lingering shots, just gets to the guts of the plot and the characters and no hanging around. Adapted by Andrew Davies who seems to have made a career out of adapting costume drama. 

Mystery Lorries, Foggy Mornings and Fixing Drips

 A very large H.G.V. was parked up just opposite the house last night. (Thursday) I could  see something from the bathroom window and there was one of those orange flashing lights which drew my attention to whatever it was that was going on. The lorry had garden fencing and goodness knows what on the back of it. I don't think lorries of that size and weight should really be parked in the estate. Apart from the size and weight of it, they would take up valuable parking spaces for residents. I couldn't work out what was going on and opened the window, because I couldn't see clearly through the frosted glass of the bathroom window. There was a second vehicle, a van, with the back open, and a man in overalls doing something or other. I thought at first he was filling in potholes, but it occurred to me, why would anyone be doing that sort of work at around 10p.m. on a Thursday in February? It was the fact that I couldn't get to sleep and had gone downstairs to make myself a hot drink, Ovaltine, which helps me to get to sleep. It was when I needed to go to the loo that I decided to go upstairs to the bathroom that I then noticed the flashing orange light through the frosted glass. I wondered at first if it was an emergency vehicle, such as a police car or even an ambulance, which was what got my curiosity raised that I had to open the window to get a closer look. I gave up on what was going on and went back to bed.

This morning (Friday) I got myself ready to take Alfie out and had to again use the bathroom. Not going into too much detail, but I couldn't understand why the bathmat was so wet as I stood minding my own business at the loo. I thought perhaps I had got the mat too wet when I'd got out of the bath last night, but it couldn't have been that. The mat was really wringing wet so I moved it out of the bathroom to deal with later. Alfie was confined to the lounge, as I usually have him as he gets so over-wrought when he knows he's about to go out. It was when I'd moved the mat that I found a large puddle on the floor and soon found the source of the leak. A junction in the plumbing under the toilet cistern was leaking slowly but gradually. I think it may just require a spanner taking to it to tighten the connection. But I don't have any tools to do this job and I know that if I ring my landlord he'll only get himself in a stress and it'll be an age before he sends a plumber to fix it, so I texted Garry next door because I know he has the required knowledge and the tools to fix the problem. So I've put towels on the floor to absorb the water and just have to leave it until it can be fixed successfully.

All was revealed to me as to the situation regarding the large lorry when I got to take Alfie out this morning. It was very foggy out and you could barely see across the road, but the fog has since gone as I write this at 7.35a.m. on Friday morning. Alfie made his usual din as I opened the door. As Alfie game out of the house, barking crazily, that the drive of the H.G.V. came across the road from his vehicle to speak to me and make a fuss of the loudly-barking little dog. He told me that he'd had a tyre blow-out as he was driving past on Saxon Street. He made the comment that the other vehicles were driving fast and he needed somewhere to park up safely, hence the vehicle being left over-night opposite my home. The van I saw from the bathroom window, as described above, had been from a firm which had managed to replace the blown-out tyre and he had to spend the night asleep in his cab. I took Alfie across Eaglestone Park as normal and by the time I came back to enter the house, the H.G.V. had gone. The H.G.V. driver commented on the speed of the traffic, to which I agree, making the response that I thought the speed limit was far too high and really ought to be lowered to between 40-60 m.p.h.

Later. I went next door and asked Garry if he could deal with the leak for me and he came round. Fortunately he was on a late shift and wouldn't be at home later. The leak if from a junction between two pipes and it was a worn washer that was causing the problem. So it's fixed and the bath mats and towels are in the washing machine ready to wash and the floor mopped. Not completely dry but it's a least not one large puddle!

I had a fairly substantial amount of cash arrive in my Nationwide account a few days ago. No explanatory letter to give details of what it was for except the initials 'TP' next to it. I assumed it would be for Teachers' Pensions. I had no idea how to access Carol's pensions until I got a telephone call from the caseworker at the N.A.S.U.W.T (I still don't know what the initials stand for.) I was told that I could download a form from the Teacher's Pensions website, which I did, and then had to get Carol's employee number from the Academy and I think her National Insurance number, which I duly put on the form which was completed and sent off. I had only meant to go to the Nationwide account to look at the balance, as I often do, otherwise I would never have known it was there.

Having had the money appear in my bank account I would have expected to have had a letter or at least some sort of statement from Teacher's Pensions to give me an idea how they worked out these amounts (there was a smaller amount also on the statement on line). So I had this morning rung Teachers' Pensions and I have been told that a letter should have been sent out, but obviously wasn't but one will now be sent to me. Whether this monthly payment will make up the difference of the rent payments with Housing Benefit, I'm not sure, but at least it means I have some more cash to play around with, to pay bills and general living expenses. I was expecting there to be some sort of need for me to identify myself, but I just gave them Carol's National Insurance number and that was all.

I went into our local Waitrose. A loaf of bread and a few other comestibles. I walked past the newspapers on display and saw the headline in the Daily Telegraph 'Churches can scrap Sunday Services.' Did make it read a bit like bus companies not running services on a Sunday. No, wait a minute. So, what exactly is the good old C of E going to put on instead? Bingo, or community sing-a-longs? What are the vicars going to be up to on a Sunday? I didn't even realise they were legally required to put on services, the General Synod voted to end the law that has existed since the 17th Century.

It's been a bright and sunny day here today, which was great, considering the day started out foggy. It's generally a sign at this time of year, that the weather will improve as the day progresses, if it starts foggy or over-cast. So, as a treat for Alfie, I decided to take him for a second walk. It must have taken him by surprise, as we don't usually go for a second walk. As a result I've done well over 7000 steps. It's interesting to see different people, although none speak. A weird youth wandering the path, looking as if he's got nothing better to do. No doubt would be in school, but as it's Half-Term, looking lost. Several other rather lost souls. Discovering a lot of bits of Eaglestone I've never been to before, some looking somewhat run down.I think quite a few of th properties are rented, and don't look as if their tenants look after them particularly well. A lot of litter and the front gardens full of broken machinery, old cars which have been repaired or had parts taken from them and then left to rot. Not particularly encouraging if you were looking to buy or rent a property and to see that as you drove up for the first time.

Red Kites over Milton Keynes

As usual I took Alfie out for his routine walk (more like run.) around Eaglestone Park. As we got to the other side I saw some birds flying overhead and at closer inspection I realised that one was a red kite. These magnificent predators have only recently been reintroduced in this area. Carol and I saw some on the way to West Wycombe several years ago and went up the hill where the Dashwood mausoleum is situated and you get an incredible view over the Buckinghamshire countryside. Other birds fled when they saw this red kite, distinctive by it's distinctive silhouette and its forked tail. Then I saw a second bird and it was by now clear that this was a pair of these birds. I'm sure Carol would have been delighted to see these birds.

The gas ran out when I wanted to have a shave. Which meant I had to dash out to the Eaglestone shop to get  top-up. I put enough on both the electric meter as well as the gas meter. The problem is the gas meter is outside in the bin cupboard and you can't see the meter display so as to keep an eye on the balance of the top-up. Hopefully, if the smart meter is installed, this shouldn't happen again as you should be able to keep an eye on the balance on both gas and electricity, but it's still inconvenient that you have to go outside and stand on the step stool in order to read the meter or top it up. The stupid boiler still wouldn't function properly when I thought I'd managed to put the top-up on the meter. A right performance is required to do all this, having to take the step-stool outside and stand on it and then open the bin cupboard and then reach inside to put the card in the meter. You have to remember to stitch off the boiler before doing all this and it can be a real effort if it's dark because you can't see a thing so I usually do this when it's daylight, although I recently bought a little torch so I could see what I'm doing if it's dark. The top-up has a habit of running out during the night, so the torch is a real necessity. I found that the card hadn't registered and I hadn't got it to work properly so I had to go back out and go through the process again, annoyingly. The meter made the sound that signified that the top-up had gone on, so I could go back into the kitchen and turn on the boiler and this time it worked! Amazing.

I know what you're thinking as you read this. 'This post is shorter than usual!' And you'd certainly be right. I know, but there's nothing else to write about, so it is shorter than usual.

Chloe's Visit

My daughter, Chloe, had told me she was going to visit me sometime, during Half-Term, but I wasn't sure exactly when Half-Term was. It seems that this is different in different parts of the country but I had imagined it must be this week, because I've seen so many children about who would have been at school otherwise, in Sainsbury's, for example. She texted me earlier to say she would arrive around 10.30, but would then text with an 'ESA,' (Expected Time Of Arrival), according to her SatNav. That's the advantage of this technology, giving you your possible time of arrival.

Chloe got her just before 10.30 and we had a super long chat about things, particularly about the possibility of me moving. I don't think I'm going to remain in this house for much longer. To be honest, I don't need three bedrooms and the rent is too high and Housing Benefit won't pay the full amount, for whatever reason. I have started the ball rolling by signing up to find a new home through the Milton Keynes  Council website and hopefully they will help me find a smaller property with lower rent. I only need a one-bedroom property with a small piece of enclosed garden (mostly for Alfie, my Yorkie's benefit more than anything else.)

We went out for a late breakfast at Frankie and Benny's restaurant in the Xscape. Had a long chat about all sorts of things, including Chloe's pregnancy. She's expecting my third grandchild in June.

I got a telephone call from a company called Boost at lunchtime, about changing over from my gas and electricity provider (currently Utility Warehouse) and to have them install a smart meter. I explained that we were going to have one installed, and when the engineers came out to do this, they couldn't go ahead because of the state of the wiring in the meter cupboard where the gas meter is situated. It would be far easier to top up, on-line as well as at a shop. You can keep a check on your gas and electricity consumption on a sort of mini iPad. So it's going ahead. You can top up your meter from the internet, much the same way as I have done with my pay-as-you-go mobile. I said I had my reservations about it being installed, because of the last time when the engineers said they couldn't do it. But it would be great to have both gas and electricity meters inside the house so I can keep a check on the balances on both. Carol wasn't keen to alter the providers, but I was assured that I would be paying less for both gas and electricity and be getting £15 free on both gas and electricity as well as some Amazon vouchers which pleases me, which mean they can go towards books.

Early Mornings

(Monday)  A not quite-so-cold morning when I took Alfie out across Eaglestone Park. Yesterday I got a sudden 'hit' in my chest. Not an angina attack, but it made me feel very tired. Apparently this was likely to happen, due to the stents. Just made me feel sleepy and this went on for the rest of the day. I let Alfie off his lead and he did his usual running-about bit. He had to explore in a very over-grown area along the path. He got himself caught in the brambles and thorny bits of over-growth and I had to rescue him. His coat got caught in the thorns and I had to pull it off his tail. Very undignified for him, but once I put him back of the ground he ran off, none the worse for the whole incident. We did a longer walk, ending up on the Redway near the hospital.

I have had to fill in a form sent from the D.W.P. (Department of Work and Pensions), regarding Carol's P.I.P. (Personal Independence Payment.) I assumed this would be stopped when she passed away, but they sent one for to me which I had help filling in when I went to see Alison Corbett the other week, who is the caseworker from C.A.B. (Citizen's Advice Bureau), who helped me fill it in. They have sent exactly the same form out again. It makes me wonder whether they've lost the original form. I think I might ring them to find out what exactly is going on. I may be entitled to some sort of payment, but it's not clear why or how much.

Later. I've been trying to get though on the hotline to the D.W.P. in connection with the letter I mentioned in the above. You have to go through about three menus and then select the appropriate number, but all you seem to get is a really horrible electronic version of Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons' on a sort of loop and an irritating woman's voice telling you to 'hold on, or ring later. All our agents are busy. . .' Why is it so annoying? Just want to speak to a human. I don't want to fill in the form, post it back and then . . . a couple of weeks later, get another letter with exactly the same form in it, to fill in and get the same response. Is there a robot at the other end, or  computer at least just sending out letters endlessly? Probably not, but it does seem like it somehow.

I've given Alfie a bath this afternoon. He makes an awful fuss and I don't think he likes getting wet. I ran the hot water before I put him in and then gave him a good shampoo. In actual fact he loves the attention he gets. I had to make sure the bathroom door is well and truly shut otherwise he would run all over the house, attempting to dry himself. I put a towel on the floor of the bathroom and used  plastic jug to scoop up the water in the bath to rinse off the soap. Fortunately it's a low-suds brand and so there aren't too many bubbles to rinse. He does attempt to climb out of the bath but I lift him out and towel him dry as best as possible before he shakes himself. Then, once he is at least partially dry, I let him out of the bathroom and he heads downstairs to the lounge. It doesn't take too long for him to be completely dry and I spend some time brushing him. As a result his coat looks silky and soft and the lovely wave comes back in his coat, giving the impression that he's been permed! All the fuss in the bath and he really loves being brushed.

Later Still. I have tried several times more to get some response from the hotline for P.I.P. Just giving up and will give it another try tomorrow morning.

Tuesday Morning. I'm sitting here on my armchair, with Alfie to the right of me, sitting on the arm of the sofa, watching my every move. He making the vague clucking noises he makes, because he's very intent at going out for his routine walk. It's actually 7.03 a.m., and I can see that it's relatively light outside, so I really have no choice but to get ready to take him out. I will have to leave him in the lounge while I get ready, put my shoes on and my jacket and make sure I have doggy bags in my pocket along with my gloves and iPhone. It shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes and then go into the kitchen to get his lead. We walked a good deal further than we usually do. I don't think Alfie minds. He just loves being out and about.

Later. I did attempt to get through on the D.W.P. helpline regarding the P.I.P. I went through all the confounded menus and then got the horrible 'Four Seasons' music but there was absolutely no way I was ever going to get through to anyone to speak to, so I decided to give up and complete the form and post it off, which is what I have now done and it's gone. I still can't work out why they've sent me another of the same forms to fill it. I still get a sneaking suspicion the first one got lost somewhere and they don't like to admit it.

I'm keeping a watch on the matter which builds up under Alfie's eyes. (I was going to say 'keep a close eye on it,' but thought the better of it.) He knows when I get the water from the sink (put in an empty  plastic ice-cream container), a towel off the front hall radiator and a ball of cotton wool. I have to hold him on my knee. It seems both eyes are looking clearer than before we went to the vet's to have the large accumulation of this stuff removed. But he is a real wriggler and growls at me. For a little dog, he's hard to hold onto. I don't know whether he'd bight me, but I'm not prepared to find out as he has sharp teeth! I got rid of a large piece of this concretion (for want of a better work.) yesterday, so it is working.

'It Was 50 Years Ago Today!'

Quoting as I did in my blog post title, to the Beatles album track 'Sergent Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.' It's something of an anniversary this weekend. It's exactly 50 years ago that I started work, as a very green 18-year-old, when I went to work as a student A.S.M. at the Everyman Theatre in Cheltenham. I was taken down to Cheltenham by my mum in the Land Rover because it was snowing heavily and I had lots of luggage, including a bicycle to take. I had to live in the Y.M.C.A. because my mum didn't think I'd be able to manage on my own in a flat. I was eventually to live with a family in Cheltenham as a lodger. Whether I would have managed on my own in a flat is open to doubt. I wasn't given a chance to find out, but I suppose, as I was the first of her five sons to go away from home, she was only doing what she thought was the best for me. 

I was thrown into the deep end because that first Monday I went to work at the Everyman was the technical rehearsal for the latest play, an adaptation of 'Jane Eyre,' which had Angela Richards as Jane and Philip Voss playing Rochester. It would have been quite an eye-opener for me, as generally a technical rehearsal can be a very long and tiring experience, going on all day and probably into the early hours of the next day. The play is virtually taken apart and lighting and sound cues rehearsed, along with scene changes and it will be the first time the actors as well as the stage management, got to see and experience the set. Some of the scene changes could be very complicated, with the set consisting of several wheeled units or 'trucks,' built on platforms which had castors underneath them and could be difficult to manoeuvre over the stage floor which was built at a slight angle or 'rake,' meaning if you weren't careful, they could disappear over the edge of the stage and possibly fall into the audience, so each 'truck' had to be equipped with bolts which could be pushed into drilled holes in the stage floor to prevent them moving once in place. On the following Tuesday there would be a dress rehearsal, that is, if the technical rehearsal went on too long on the Monday. This would be almost like an actual performance, but without an audience, although the director would be making notes throughout and after the dress rehearsal he or she would gather all the actors and stage management to give these notes, for example, could a scene change be done quicker, could doors be prevented from opening or squeaking unnecessarily etc etc, as well as tweeking sound or lighting cues and endless other things that might need rectifying before the first night.

I think I was put on helping during scene changes. There would be a 'curtain drop, which was meant to be very short and you'd have to go on stage and place a prop or take something away. It could be barely a minute so you had to absolutely sure what you were expected to do. It could be quite difficult if you had to set a piece of furniture, probably carrying it on with another member of stage management and make quite sure it was positioned correctly. Coloured tape was put on the stage floor and usually the 'up-stage' legs of, say, a table or chair, would be marked and it could be quite difficult to find these coloured marks, particularly if you had such a short time to find them as well as the fact that there probably wasn't much light to see by, and then exit rapidly before the curtain went up on the next scene of the play. If it was a prop that was vital to the plot, or the piece of furniture was wrongly positioned, it could ruin the performance. Can you think of a prop, such as a vital piece of evidence in a 'whodunnit', if it's missing and the police, who are looking for evidence, suddenly that vital 'prop' is missing? Or the murderer looks in the drawer of a desk to find the weapon to shoot another character, and it's missing? Could be devastating. So, you needed to be on your toes when setting as well as striking props.

Another couple of anniversaries in 2019. It was on 20th July 1969 that the first humans went to the moon and walked on the surface. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin explored the lunar surface while Michael Collins remained in the Apollo 11 module, piloting the capsule around the moon. I recall watching this historic event unfold on television, in really grainy black and white pictures. I'm not sure I was that interested and the television coverage seemed to go on for a long time, even though the picture quality wasn't particularly brilliant. A D.S.M. at the Everyman insisted on me going to a jewellers shop in Cheltenham to get a model of the Apollo module which was on display in their window. As part of our job, we had to go and beg, steal or borrow items from local business for use as props in the plays we were staging during that season. It took me a while to pluck up courage to go and ask for whatever was required in a particular production, such as a tea set or, in one case, a samovar. If the business lent an item they got a credit mention in the play's programme and also got a couple of free tickets for the play. So, it didn't take me much courage to go and ask in that jeweller's to get that model. I duly came back and presented it to the D.S.M., who would have been more senior to me in the pecking order. Why couldn't he have gone and asked himself? I don't know, looking back, but probably to see if I would obey orders or just because he couldn't do it himself.

The other anniversary would be the fact that I passed my driving test whilst working in Cheltenham. I had been taking lessons before arriving in Cheltenham and had my first test during the break in the season and I'd gone home for the week. Consequently I had failed, and when I had returned to Cheltenham, I resumed taking lessons and then went on to take a second test, which I passed and the my parents bought me my first car, a two-tone green Ford Anglia, which cost the princely sum of £75! It lasted probably two or three years until it finally bit the dust. It had an odd habit. When it rained, you put on the windscreen wipers and if you went fast, they moved slowly, but if you were driving slowly, say, going up a steep hill, they went fast. Can't see how or why, but presumably they were linked to the speed of the engine. Also, you dipped the lights, when you drove at night, by using your foot on the floor, to depress a pedal near the accelerator pedal. It's a pity modern cars don't have this pedal to dip the headlights. Something you don't have to do nowadays when you learn to drive, and that's to use hand signals. Sticking your hand out to show you're intentions to move left or right or slow down seems a rather foolhardy thing to do. Most likely if you were to do it today you'd get some strange looks and possibly get your arm knocked off by a passing vehicle. 

Modern Technology

On one of my  recent shopping trips to Sainsbury's in Witan Gate I notice some work going on. A lot of new equipment going in, but covered in polythene. I'm not too sure what it's about. Then I see a sort of unit near the entrance of the store with 'Smart Shop' in bold lettering on it. I have an idea what it means. They're bringing in the system that Waitrose has had for years. Instead of using one of the traditional checkouts or self-service tills, you use a hand-held scanner as you shop and then pay at a dedicated till. I have this morning had an email from Sainbury's which tells me that the system is up and running. I have downloaded the app onto my iPhone and by putting in my Nectar card number I can scan each item as I shop and pay at the dedicated check-out. Not sure how you pay. Presumably with your debit or credit card. You can use your mobile to scan using the camera or use the hand-held device. I'll have to give it a go. But I'll miss the interaction with the people on the tills if I use this technology. Surely it shouldn't all be about the speed of shopping. No doubt it will mean they'll layoff more staff in the pursuit of profits. I suppose I've embraced the new technologies of self-service tills as well as on-line shopping, so this is just another form of technology to add to the list. I imagine the thinking is, that if you, as a retail outlet, don't follow the trends, take on board similar technologies that other retailers embrace, you will be left behind, because it's what your customers expect. Tesco was the first supermarket to have a loyalty card, named really imaginatively Clubcard. Sainsbury had it's reward card but then it merged with several other loyalty cards to become Nectar. Very useful for the supermarket because it meant they could keep track of what individual customers purchased and could use the data to analyse this data to send personalised offers. They could work out your age, whether you had children, your preferences especially what you liked to eat, even your buying habits on such things as crisps, fruit, whether you had a dietary restriction such as low fat, diabetic, gluten-free and so on. If you bought clothes in store, even your shoe size, waist etc etc. Further, what till you used, how often you shopped in store, if you used on-line ordering and the time of day it was delivered.

Early Morning

It's early morning on Wednesday. I've tried going out a good deal later with Alfie, but he has sat on the sofa beside me and has been staring intently at me, expecting something to happen. I tried my hardest to avoid eye-contact but it wouldn't work. So, I got dressed, having had my bowl of Shreddies and my mug of tea. Alfie's not satisfied until he gets the dregs at the bottom of my mug. I know, I know, tell me off for sharing my mug or my bowl or plate with a dog? It won't hurt. I know Chloe was horrified when I went to stay with her over Christmas. It was difficult for Alfie to not have his tea in the morning or when I'd finished. But does it matter? I don't think so. Having dressed and taken my medication, I got Alfie hooked up with his lead on his harness (a better arrangement than using his collar because it doesn't put stress on his neck.) The whole neighbourhood knows when Alfie's about because of the noise he makes as we go out of the front door. It turns out to be a good deal milder this morning. No frost on the car.

We do our usual walk around Eaglestone Park but go a good deal further. We get as far as the Redway which runs along the side of Marlborough Street. The traffic is relatively heavy. It's going much too fast. People seem to treat the grid roads like a speedway. Then we come out where the Redway goes under the grid road, and back towards home along the Redway behind the houses.

I've been to put diesel in the car this morning. I go to the BP station along Childs Way. It means I will earn extra Nectar points. I then drive out and onto Marlborough Street and then round into Witan Gate as I want to get to Sainsbury's. I have to collect a repeat prescription from Lloyd's which is inside Sainsbury's. I have a further repeat prescription to collect but that won't be done until later in the week.

I've been asked if I'd like to take part in the quiz night at the Oaktree Centre on Friday night. It seems that someone else can't take part. I say yes, because I haven't ever been involved in a quiz before. I love television gameshows such as 'Eggheads,' where at least the questions are relatively hard. Even being able to answer some of the questions on 'University Challenge' surprises me because some of them are really hard. Then there's ''Only Connect,' where the questions are notoriously difficult, having to find the link between three questions or other things. It's compered by Victoria Coren-Mitchell. Some of her remarks are what you might call 'off the wall.' These were some of Carol's favourite television shows. I'm also doing a course at church on Thursday evenings, called 'Freed To Lead.' Who knows what this may lead to? I'm also going on the 'set-up' team to being involved with setting up for Sunday services, so I'm not sitting around doing nothing at the moment, as well as going to the coffee morning which meets at John Lewis's café for people who've been bereaved and connected to Willan Hospice.

I've been to Willen this afternoon. I was annoyed to discover that Chaffron Way was once again closed off at the Marlborough Street roundabout so I had to get to Willen along Childs Way. It would be nice to be informed of such closures well in advance of the actual road closure. It seemed that the same was going on the other way along Chaffron Way. Whether it was for resurfacing or some other matter I have no idea, but still, it must be annoying for any businesses in the area. 

Bored Silly With Brexit?

I don't try to discuss politics on this blog. But Brexit seems to be taking up so much time and energy and column inches in the press and endless arguments from both sides on television that I thought I'd throw my few pennyworth into the ring. The whole thing is crazy, particularly the fact that no-one has any idea how to break the stalemate that has happened in the House of Commons. It's a bit like a really poorly-written episode of the  BBC sitcom 'Yes, Minister.' Except none of the episodes were poorly written.  Even Sir Humphrey Appleby, brilliantly portrayed by Nigel Hawthorne, would have been stumped for words. The following dialogue from this series, written in the early 1980's. It seems that times (and much else) hasn't changed, regarding our thoughts on the subject of the E.U.

Sir Humphrey Appleby: Minister, Britain has had the same foreign policy objective for at least the last 500 years: to create a disunited Europe. In that cause we have fought with the Dutch against the Spanish, with the Germans against the French, with the French and Italians against the Germans, and with the French against the Germans and Italians. Divide and rule, you see. Why should we change now when it's worked so well?
Jim Hacker: That's all ancient history, surely.
Sir Humphrey Appleby: Yes, and current policy. We had to break the whole thing up, so we had to get inside. We tried to break it up from the outside, but that didn't work. Now that we're inside, we can make a complete pig's breakfast of the whole thing: set the Germans against the French, the French against the Italians, the Italians against the Dutch. The Foreign Office is terribly pleased, it's just like old times.
Jim Hacker: But if that's true, why is the Foreign Office pushing for higher membership?
Sir Humphrey Appleby: I'd have thought that was obvious. The more members an organisation has, the more arguments it can stir up. The more futile and impotent it becomes.
Jim Hacker: What appalling cynicism.
Sir Humphrey Appleby: We call it diplomacy, Minister.

Virtually every time I turn on the television news, amongst all the other gloom and doom, we have to hear about stupid politicians who can't agree with anything unless it's what they want to agree with. I feel sorry for Teresa May. Whatever she does is bound to be wrong, not form the point of view of the opposition parties, but when it's her own MPs it must be very discouraging. We don't hear anything fresh from Jeremy Corbyn who is only interested in the possibility of their  being a General Election and the slim chance of him becoming prime minister. He just rants, but we never seem to hear anything positive which might possibly sort out the sorry mess. Well, at least the various factions and parties are 'sort of' meeting to discuss possible solutions, but why couldn't they join forces earlier? The best thing to do when Brexit pops it's ugly head over the parapet when I turn on the news is to either turn over to another channel or just turn the television set off.

In general there seemed a certain sort of apathy about the E.U. before the In/Out referendum. Most people were more interested in celebrities, reality television, sports personalities and any inanity you can mention, rather than the goings-on of a load of bureaucrats in the middle of Europe or even whether we were to 'remain' or 'leave' the juggernaut of the European Community. This could be said of the first referendum in 1975. Looking back, I don't have any memories of it, or even whether I even voted at the time. I don't know whether I was really that interested in it at the time. It didn't even come over my horizon. Who can blame me? Would I have been interested in the goings-on of a load of faceless pen-pushers in an office just off Whitehall? I doubt it. 

Let's be honest, we were taken into the 'Common Market' as it was referred to in the early 1970's by Edward Heath, the then-Prime Minister, without consulting the country and then we had a referendum  in 1975 when a Labour government came to power. I don't remember voting one way or the other at that time, but the result was that we remained in the bloc. (I don't know precisely when they changed it to the E.E.C. (European Economic Community) or then to E.C. (European Community), which, admittedly rolls off the tongue so much easier. From what I've been reading about the referendum in the 1970's, there was a certain amount of apathy amongst the public. I think generally people have no real interest in the E.U. and when it came to the 2016 'in/out' referendum the same could be said again. In general most people aren't interested in something which is distant from their everyday lives. It's run behind closed door, or so it seems. If you see footage on television of the E.U. buildings they look faceless and the same can be said about those that run it, the bureaucrats and the like. Did anyone really and truly think the British people were going to take to being told what to do by a bunch of faceless bureaucrats based hundreds of miles away in a bland, faceless building? Having rules and regulations foisted on us by Brussels or wherever the E.U. is based? I think not. Most of those 'laws' over-ride those made by the Whitehall parliament. Then there's the fact that we're an island. How many times have we been invaded? Once by the Romans and unsuccessfully by Napoleon and the Nazis didn't bother, basically because they knew they wouldn't wind if they'd attempted to invade.

The E.U. doesn't want us to leave. Well, who can blame them? They get a hefty payment from us. How many Billions per year? And they want us to pay something like £39 billion as part of the 'Divorce settlement'? Nobody mentioned anything about this sort of payment during the Referendum campaign. Oh, we were told that we gave them something like £35 million a week, or was it month? And that could have gone to spend on keeping the N.H.S. going. Or payment for new hospitals, schools, mending roads and the infra structure in general. Who came up with that figure? Once we've gone there's going to be a huge hole in the E.U. budget. In other words the United Kingdom seems to have kept the whole thing going with our payments. With the Euro in meltdown, what with the Greek economy needing fixing, and then the Portuguese and the Italian, all expecting to get handouts to pay their debts, without our money coming in to prop things up, no wonder they expect us to pay a hefty price.

Frosty and Chilly

It's getting lighter a lot earlier. So it seemed a good idea to take Alfie out for his routine walk across Eaglestone Park. I can't avoid his eyes as he was sitting on the sofa watching me closely. But by the time we got outside it was surprisingly cold and the car had a layer of ice on it, which means I will need to scrape it off when I drive out later on this morning.

Alfie loves being let off his lead when we get to the grassed area, but unfortunately things didn't go as usual because the woman who has a large Alsatian and walks it from her wheelchair was crossing the park. Alfie's immediate reaction is to chase after the dog and make friends. He doesn't see any danger, but I don't trust this dog as the woman has no control over it. I don't want to see Alfie attacked. The bigger dog growled at Alfie and I ran after him to put him back on his lead. He wasn't going to be caught, but I did manage to catch him and we walked away at speed along the circular path and took a short cut back home.

Some time later. I've been to get my haircut this morning. Some while ago I went to get my hair cut at my regular place, Central Barbers, which has been in the Food Centre for years and I've been going there on and off since I moved to Milton Keynes in 2007. Then I went to the barbers in Monkston Park (which we found quite by accident when we went to buy something in the nearby Budgens store). Then it closed down, only discovering when I was waiting for them to open up and someone told me that the man who owned the store had gone out of business (for whatever reason.) The branch of Central Barbers moved into the main MK shopping centre and this I only discovered when I read the notice on the door of the boarded-up shop. They are now located opposite John Lewis's store in the shopping centre. I was there sitting outside the store at 9.25 and went in to get my haircut by a young lady who it turned out went to Shenley Christian Fellowship, but goes to the second service (I usually go to the 9.15 service, so it's unlikely I'd see her.)

I then went to the coffee morning within the café in John Lewis and saw the bereavement counsellor and we've set up a new meeting for Wednesday at 2.30p.m at Willen.

Walking through the shopping centre I noticed that some areas around Middleton Hall were closed off. Something to do with a gas leak. But I couldn't smell anything like gas. But when I came back out to walk through the centre on the way back to the car all the closed-off areas were re-opened. So one assumes that the gas leak had been resolved.

On the way home I decided to go to Waitrose, but I didn't realise until it was too late that I wouldn't be able to return home along Chaffron Way because there was some roadworks going on and there was a barrier up on the opposite late so I would need to find an alternative route home along Brickhill Street and then Child's Way. They're forever closing the grid roads around Milton Keynes, usually for other things such as putting in safety zones, which they've done along Chaffron Way. This consists of signs to get drivers to slow down as well as central kerbing and red painted areas. Whether this works I don't know, because from experience a lot of drivers don't want to slow at any cost. There's an element who won't adhere to any sort of rules and regulation. No matter what they're told or meant to do, such as slow down, as they should along Saxon Street between Milton Keynes Academy and the hospital, which is a 40 m.p.h, zone, they will not slow down. Probably because they know full well that they won't get caught and fined. You very rarely, if ever, see a police car around Milton Keynes. There's no deterrent to motorists who get round the law, not just speeding but tailgating and other misdemeanours. There used to be a 'smiley face' sign that lit up when you were driving at the correct speed. It was on the footbridge that takes the Redway over Saxon Street, but it gets taken away, but it's quite effective at getting drivers to slow down. It would appear that a lot of people don't realise that there's a speed limit or just ignore it anyway.

So, why don't they do all the road repairs at the same time? Surely it can't be too difficult to make sure they coordinate all this sort of work so that it doesn't inconvenience people.

Cold and Windy

What would I do without the weather to write about in these blog posts? It's getting lighter each morning so I decided to take Alfie out for his routine walk after 7 o'clock, but it's colder and there's a very strong and keen wind blowing. Also, I'm off to the men's breakfast at 8 o'clock so I needed to be out earlier otherwise I wouldn't have time for Alfie's walk. He chased a cat and it ran up a low fence and he very nearly managed to catch it. Stupid cat, it sat on the fence and peered at Alfie, who behaved as most Yorkshire terriers do, determined to have words with the confounded thing! The wind was far too much for me. I don't want to get cold because of my heart condition so I made the decision to cut the walk short and made for home. I think Alfie appreciated my decision and was more than glad to get back into the warmth of the house.

I've been to the men's breakfast at the Oaktree Centre, home of Shenley Christian Centre. A cooked breakfast for £5 and plenty of good fellowship. As I'm sitting in the cafe area, the sun is shining. It's very spring-like. On the way back down Chaffron Way I am tailgated by this female who insists on sitting on my tail. Why do people think they have a right to do this? I'm only driving within my safe zone and no more. I have no desire to drive any faster.  I have a heart condition and I don't want my blood pressure increased. Do some drivers just have no respect for others? Or, if it comes to that, manners? So I decide to just drive slower, to annoy this woman. There is barely a mile between roundabouts in Milton Keynes, so why do I need to drive at over 60 m.p.h.? When I get home I decide I need to order repeat prescription meds and will need to go to Lloyd's pharmacy in Sainsbury's, so drive out again immediately. I'm then somewhat annoyed that they have relocated some items within the store. I'm looking for Nivea shaving gel, which has been in exactly the same location on the shelves for I don't know how long. It seems that Valentine's Day items get preferential treatment and that my shaving gel (which no doubt doesn't come under Valentine's Day gift) has been moved slightly to a new location on the end of the aisle, which is further annoying me. But never mind. I managed to get the repeat prescription and all the other items and then day at the checkout and drive home.

I hear that Google+ is being closed down. I have an account, but, to be honest, I have no idea how it works. I had a Facebook account from fairly early on, basically because I needed to keep in contact with my daughter, Chloe, when she went away to school in Cambridge and then university. I had never heard of it until she told me about it. I am fairly computer literate and I enjoy discovering new things on the internet. I have put stuff on Google+ but I have simply no idea (until today) how you post comments or whatever on the site. It's just a mess (compared with Facebook) There is too much stuff and you just don't know where to post or write. Totally confusing. Will I miss it? Certainly not. What's to miss anyway?

Claiming Benefits

As I explained yesterday (Wednesday) I went in to the Milton Keynes Civic Offices to attempt to deal with what I was told was a sort of discretionary top-up to my housing benefits. Milton Keynes Council will not pay all my rent, for some reason best known to themselves. I need to have the rest paid from this, whatever it's called. I drove back in to Milton Keynes centre for the third time this week, parking as usual near The Point (oh dear, what a sad sight it has become! A once major Milton Keynes landmark, a sort of iconic Milton Keynes building with it's metallic pyramid-shape now little more than a rusting hulk, the rest of the multi-screen cinema complex deserted, boarded-up and looking a real mess. Totally sad and a disgrace to let it rot like this. The first multiplex cinema complex in the United Kingdom. I could go on. No doubt the owners waiting until the price of this prime location goes up before selling it off to the highest bidder.) Anyway, rant over. But you have to admit that it rather lowers the time of the area and doesn't exactly give Milton Keynes a very good image if you were to arrive via bus and then see this disgrace. I walked in through the shopping centre. There are no end of black crows perched in the trees and you walk across the road, some strutting around on the pavement, giving an air of impending doom and disaster, rather like a scene from Alfred Hitchcock's film 'The Birds,' based on Daphne DuMaurier's  creepy story.

Having reached the Civic Offices, a good walk through the shopping centre, I had to sign in using one of the computer terminals. The thing issues you with a printed ticket with a number on it and then you have to wait in the seating area and wait for your number to come up on one of the screens and a computer voice to call you to whichever desk. There weren't that many other people waiting, fortunately. A lot of odd people wandering about, a large party which was going to the offices upstairs presumably for some sort of meeting and signing in at the furthest desk. They don't have such a thing as a reception desk anymore, a similar system they have at my bank, the NatWest, which is right next door to the Civic centre. Someone sort of 'floating,' with a clipboard or an iPad, to greet you as you enter, and make sure you're signed in and on the correct 'path', either to sign up for benefits or something else. It amuses me the way the computerised voice gives you instructions as to where to go when you number is called. I'd be interested as to how it works. Does someone sit and record all the numbers and then they are stored in a computer system? I don't know how it manages to decide which 'chunks' of dialogue to broadcast and in which order. The voice doesn't manage to sound too realistic when it gets to the end of a sentence. It should go 'down' rather than 'up.' Which gives a somewhat weird style of delivery. Why is it a female voice? Do people react to a female voice rather than a male? All these sorts of things go through my mind as I sit and wait.

I had to wait about half an hour and then my number came up. Number 208. I could see the numbers going down on the screen. One of the reasons I made sure I was at the office early enough because the last time I went in there it was mid-morning and I had to wait a good hour-and-forty minutes, with screaming babies and people talking with loud voices on their mobiles.

So, I walked to the correct desk and sat down and told the clerk or whatever his title would be, why I was there, to be told that any discretionary payment applications could only be done on-line. Which annoyed me considerably, considering I had to drive into the city centre and park and then walk through to the Civic offices and wait in the queue. So, I left somewhat disconsolately. But at least I could do the application on this MacBook Air.

I was taken to Marks and Spencer at the shopping mall near the football stadium. for lunch by Ross Dilnot, Pastor at Shenley Christian Fellowship. He and other church members have been extremely supportive during the last few months and particularly at the time that Carol passed away.  This is one place that Carol and I came on a regular basis for coffee and something to eat.

When I got home I had to search on-line for the Milton Keynes council website and the discover how to do the application for the discretionary payment I mentioned earlier in this blog post. I got part-way through the application and then the site would not move on to the next page, with the 'spinning ball of death' refusing to allow me to continue with the application. After several more attempts (I refused to give up as I wanted the application done in it's entirety.) I eventually managed to complete it. I have also done an application for the Teachers' Pension in the hope that I might receive some sort of payment from Carol's pension from working as a teacher at Milton Keynes Academy. I had to include a copy of the death certificate as well as our Marriage Certificate. 

Mixed Weather

(Tues) I Went out with Alfie across Eaglestone Park. It was surprisingly foggy.  It was the first time I've actually seen someone leaving their house for work.  So, there are people out there! Perhaps it's because we went out a bit later than usual. It always seems very quiet and people-free. No word of 'good morning' or anything. Don't people speak to one another any more? Are they totally obsessed by social media. Older people tend to speak to you, but the younger generation  seem to have lost the power of speech. It's rather sad.

We walked a good deal further the we usually do this morning (Wednesday). Walking along the Redway a bicycle came up behind me and I was somewhat taken by surprise. The rider did at least stop. I could hear something behind me and managed to look round, but most just speed past and I doubt many would stop to let you get out of the way. This one had headphones on so I doubt he could hear. It's surely dangerous to ride a bicyle with those things clamped over your ears. Probably work with Bluetooth to connect to a phone or other device, but having cables connected would possibly get caught round parts of bicycle. But, in all honesty, it's crazy when you can't hear other people or vehicles. Are people mad or what, walking about with their mobiles in front of their faces and these ridiculous headphones clamped over their ears? No sense of danger at all it would seem.

Some low-lying mist hanging over the grassy areas of Eaglestone Park. Giving a somewhat mysterious look to the whole surroundings.

I had a meeting with Alison, yesterday morning(Tuesday) who is the financial caseworker from C.A.B. (Citizens Advice Bureau) who works for Macmillan. She helped me and Carol set up the benefits we received when Carol was originally diagnosed, which included Housing Benefit (which we organised ourselves) as well as the P.I.P. (personal Income Payment) as well as E.S.A. (Employment Support Allowance). The Housing Benefit stopped when Carol died so I had to go into the council office and reapply. It was set up relatively quickly but for some reason it doesn't completely cover rent on this house. Alison said that there was no reason why I shouldn't get what they call a discretionary payment to pay the whole amount, so I went into the council offices this morning. Unfortunately they don't handle housing benefit on a Wednesday, so it means I'll have to return tomorrow morning. I'll make sure that I get there early enough so I don't end up waiting two or more hours as I did last time. Just annoying, but there's not much I can do about it so will just have to be patient.

It's a good deal milder today. As I mentioned, there as a certain amount of mist and fog when I went out with Alfie earlier. I had the central heating on when I got up but by the time I got back fro town the house was really warm. The sun has been out and there was no point in keeping the heating on, so I turned it off. There seemed no sense in wasting gas by having the central heating on. Remarkably mild, considering it it early February. One might even be able to think it was spring-like.

Annoying Television

It's not so much annoying television I'm talking about here, it's the annoying techniques directors and camera operators use in television shows which become annoying, but not merely annoying, but used so frequently that they become almost cliched. There's some elements in television which really annoy me. The use of drones is one in particular. They use them at the least provocation. You know the sort of thing. You have your presenter standing on a castle wall, a hill or mountain. He's done his piece to camera. It's usually the finale of the big documentary series, a history series about The Plantagenents or Tudors. Then the camera pulls out, we get a wide angle shot of the stunning landscape and then the image spins round or draws out. This sort of shot can only be done by using a drone. A helicopter would have been the norm for this in years gone by, but it's now cheaper to use a drone. But it's now becoming a bit of a cliché. 'Whip-pans,' where the camera is moved quickly from one area to another. This just makes the viewer feel sick. The horrible tendency to spin the camera round, or perhaps better explained, where you have someone standing still, or perhaps two characters having a conversation, and the camera moves around them as they talk. What on earth is the point of that? Just because you can do it, doesn't necessarily mean you have to use it. A bit like with C.G.I. (Computer Generated Imagery). Over-use of this technology can become boring and if used to much can become obvious. Someone is walking along and the camera follows them. Why can't they just stand still and talk to the camera? Again, this just makes the viewer feel motion-sick.

Why do we need to be told what's going to happen in the next episode of a series, which is always shown just as an episode ends? Surely most viewers are quite capable of waiting to see the next episode. I just find it incredibly annoying. Then we have to have a split screen as the credits are rolling and a voice over has to tell us about 'what's coming up next,' or about some programme in a week or so. Can't we read the credits without having the screen shrunk either in half or so small that you can't read them? A bit of an insult to those who have worked to bring us a drama series, those who do the makeup, costume or whatever. Or even which actor played which particular character. Then they move so fast you barely have time to read them.

The snow is gone! Fled in the night, to be replaced by heavy rain. Poor Alfie needed to go out into the garden, but he poked his head out of the patio door, gave the rain a look as if to say,' I'm not going out in THAT!' and withdrew into the warmth of the kitchen. Who could blame him? He's now curled up in a bundle of blankets on the sofa, fast asleep! It is quite mild at the moment (3.50p.m.). The sun is attempting to shine. The excitement is too much. I'm having trouble finding anything exciting to write about in this blog post, but never mind. Not every day is action-packed.

I have a cold. I don't think I've had a cold for goodness knows how long, probably a few years. It's not heavy, but annoying. I think I might have caught it when I was at the John Radcliffe hospital last week. If so, it's more than a little bit annoying that you go into hospital to get better, or in my case, to have a procedure done, and you come out with a bug. Nothing serious, but nevertheless it's annoying. I need lots of tissues to blow my nose and I ache a bit but apart from that, nothing much else. I hope it clears up in the next day or two.

Second Stent and Third . . . Possibly

If you read my blog posts on a regular basis, you will know that after I had my heart attack at the beginning of September I was taken to the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford when I had a stent inserted. I then had to go for a scan using what is called a 'Gamma Camera,' which showed that I had some damage to my heart and a blockage which needed treating with a further stent. I was booked to have this procedure done on 12th December and had arranged to be taken by someone from church, but this was the day after Carol passed away and when I arrived at the unit at the hospital in Oxford I was in something of a state because of Carol's passing and the procedure was postponed. The new date was offered, for yesterday, 30th January.

The procedure I was about to have is called a Percutaneous Coronary Intevention (PCI).

I had to be at the Cardiac Angiography Suite (which is part of the Cardiology Department at the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford) for 7.30a.m. So Tim O'Brien (who was driving me there).) arrived at 5.45a.m. to make sure we arrived at the hospital in good time. As it turned out we were there by a little after 7.a.m. Fortunately, because of the abortive appointment, we knew exactly where to go and could park the vehicle on the lay-by directly outside. I was let into the waiting area and so had to wait until the unit was officially open.

People began to arrive. Around 7.30 one of the nurses came in and told us we could go through to the ward. I began to change into a hospital gown. I find these garments difficult because you have to tie do up the ties at the next and lower on your back. You really need someone to do it for you, but I eventually managed. I had bought a bag with my things in it. I was told I needed to bring a dressing gown and slippers. Which was just as well, because I didn't fancy wandering around the ward in that hospital gown because they have no back and you need to tie them up tightly otherwise you reveal all and sundry if you're not careful. Then it was just a question of waiting (which you seem to do a great deal of in a hospital, which I can testify to with some authority over the last year-and-a-half or probably more.)

A nurse came to ask me questions about my health, for example, did I have any allergies, was I diabetic, as well as going through my medications. I had bought the entire lot of medications and he went though it all and made a list. Then, the usual 'obs' were done, (observations), temperature, blood pressure etc etc. This is done at regular intervals when you are in any hospital.

Patients were coming and going, some in wheelchairs, others on beds which were trundled about by nurses and porters. People went off to have their procedures. I wasn't long before I was taken into the lab (not an operating theatre.) I had to have a catheter inserted in my right arm. I'm not much good with needles or other sharp items, particularly if they are inserted into my person, at times such as this or when giving blood, but they managed to do this. All part of the preparations necessary before the procedure can be carried out.

Then it was my time to be taken into the lab for the procedure sitting in a wheelchair. I'm not sure whether it was the same 'lab' as the one I was in for the first stent to be inserted after my second heart attack. There was a long, narrow bench or bed which I at first sat on and then laid down on. A series of monitors overhead and a range of what looked like cameras or perhaps they were X-ray machines, because the team who would do the procedure were viewing my arteries and veins on the X-ray monitors so as to find where the blockages in my heart were which were to be opened up by the stent during the procedure.

I was given a local anathesthetic in my right arm (which was laying on the edge of the bed.) Because I had become somewhat stressed by the whole process I was also given a sedative to help me get through the procedure.

It was rather uncomfortable having my right arm put into a somewhat difficult and unusual position. I could barely feel a thing as the procedure continued. Quite a few people in the room, but I kept my eyes tightly closed throughout. I think there was a sort of sensation as the stent was pushed through a vein in my arm and into my heart. The whole process lasted around 45 minutes. At the end I was told I could sit up, but, due to the sedation, I was not able to do this myself and required assistance from one of the nurses. I was then able to lay on the bed in the ward and after about an hour or more was taken up to the ward where I had a single en-suite room. A good deal larger than the room Carol had in Milton Keynes hospital and with a good deal more room to store clothes and personal belongings.

I was expecting to be discharged fairly quickly. I had intended phoning or texting Tim so that he could come back to the hospital to collect me for the journey home, but I was then told that I would need to stay over-night. I rang Tim more or less immediately because I didn't want him waiting around in Oxford unnecessarily. He told me that he probably wouldn't be able to come back to collect me the next day, so I began to enquire as to busses or taxi cabs into the centre of Oxford as I had thought my only alternative transport would be to catch an X5 bus back home to Milton Keynes from the Oxford central bus station, which was how we had often visited Oxford in the past. I was also told that I wouldn't be able to drive for a week. No problem there. It would mean I wouldn't be able to do any shopping. That is, to drive anywhere in order to do shopping. But then it occurred to me that this wasn't actually a problem because I could do an on-line shopping order with Sainsbury's and have the order delivered. No need to lift anything, particularly with my right hand which was where the wound for the stent was. At that time, tightly bandaged and taped.

I had a ham sandwich to eat some time after I had the procedure. It was just as well I had that to eat because I wasn't supposed to eat anything after 4a.m. I had a meal as I usually do at home at 6p.m., so it was a long time to wait for food and my the time I was done with the procedure I was hungry. Then I was told that I would be moving to a ward upstairs and this move was done fairly promptly. So I was taken to the Cardiology ward and had an ensuite room. A good deal larger than the one Carol had when she was in Milton Keynes hospital. I noticed how quiet it was, too.

I was seen by a doctor and told that I ha actually had more than one stent fitted during the procedure. The wound on my right wrist seemed to be healing quickly, there was no bleeding or redness. As it was tightly bandaged and taped (with that adhesive tape which is very tacky and when they come to take it off it's so sticky it almost takes your skin with it!) I had the obligatory ECG done which showed no problems with my heart and I knew I would then have to spend the night at the John Radcliffe until I was discharged in the morning or whenever the doctors did their ward rounds.

I had an evening meal. I will say one thing: the food at the John Radcliffe is  good deal better than you get as a patient at Milton Keynes hospital.

So, I spent a relatively good night. None of the noise you usually get on a hospital ward. I felt sorry for Carol having to endure screaming and dreadful noise when she was on the various wards at Milton Keynes hospital. Even the staff were quiet, not talking and keeping me awake. I suppose having a room to myself did help, but in all honesty I think I prefer to be on a ward with other people and enjoy having conversations with other patients, but I shouldn't complain. At least I had my own toilet which meant I didn't have to go gar, although things were impeded because I had a heart monitor affixed to my person and a little later I had to have a saline drip, which was on a wheeled stand which I had to push around if I needed the toilet. The drip was because I had a dye put in my veins so that they could see clearly what they were doing during the stent procedure. The drip was for four hours.

In the morning I had breakfast at 8 o'clock and the usual obs were done and eventually a doctor came at around 10-11 and I was told I could be discharged. It all depended on the relevant paperwork being ready as well as any new medication I was to be put on. I was originally told it could be 'lunchtime,' but then I was told 'late afternoon.' I wasn't sure how I was going to get home. I had decided I would need to get a bus from Oxford bus station, the X5, which goes through Oxford to Cambridge, stopping at Bicester, Buckingham and Milton Keynes on the way. As I have a bus pass I wouldn't have to pay. Carol and I had used it on several occasions when we'd visited Oxford and when we didn't want the bother of driving and then having to find a carpark, although we usually used the Park and Ride system which made life easier.

I then got a text from Tim to say he had managed to reorganise himself and he would be able to come back and collect me, which was a relief as I wasn't keen on using the bus because I wasn't certain what would happen if I had a problem with the wrist wound, whether it would bleed and what I would do if that happened. I just needed to be able to text him or phone him once I was certain that everything was done, including the medication and the paperwork before I let him know so he could drive over from Milton Keynes (which takes at least and hour and a quarter.)

I got a visit from the pharmacist who went through my medication (I had taken all my proscribed medication with me.) and I was even given some which was at the point of running out, which meant I didn't have to put in a repeat prescription when I returned to Milton Keynes.) Even the paperwork was complete which meant I could ring Tim. I was at last able to go home. So, at around 4.30 Tim texted to say he had arrived on the hospital campus. I was taken down stairs to street-level by one of the nurses and Tim arrived and I was able to leave. The journey back to Milton Keynes was relatively stress-free, apart from a built up of traffic on the A34, basically because it was, by now, home-going time for most people and we arrived back in Eaglestone at around 6.30-7.00. The house was cold because the central heating hadn't been on for well over 24 hours and it took me a while to get it set up to warm the house.