On Friday morning I was up out of bed early, around 4.30, because I had a form to fill in for the Discretionary payment. It had been another overwhelmingly hot night and it was difficult enough to sleep, so I prefer to get everything sorted well in advance of having to deliver it to the office. I had to provide two bank statements, which I had already got from the NatWest and Nationwide when I'd visited the shopping centre the day before. I knew that I wouldn't be able to return until Phil and Robert had come back to finish off cutting the grass and generally tidying the garden. They got here around 9.30 and were gone by 10.45 and I have to say the garden is now looking absolutely amazing. The grass at the rear of the house (I refuse to term it 'lawn') looks stunning. They've managed to take away the cut grass, which was the big problem I had, because the rotary mower I have doesn't pick up the cut grass, so any mowing after a while just clogs up the machine. They were coming earlier in the week but because of over-night rain it was postponed so it's as well that it's done now because we had rain overnight and it would never have allowed the mower to work properly. Robert had problems with the Strimmer, not being able to get it started, for whatever reason, but he used the mower and it looks almost as good as it's possible to get because the ground is so uneven.
As soon as Robert and Phil had packed up their equipment in their car and driven off, and I'd had another look at their handwork (I don't think the garden has looked so tidy as it is currently. It will need rimming on a monthly basis to keep it in tip-top condition. I can expect to get a call from my landlord in the next couple of weeks, and, even when I've virtually sweated blood to clean the house for his visit, he won't notice the cleanliness of the place, but just say 'have you cut the grass?' It's usually an annual visit for no more than 10 minutes.) I prepared to drive into the centre of town, park in my usual place and the walk through to the Civic Offices (conveniently next door to my bank, the NatWest.) On arrival you have to sign in using a touch screen. I'm no good at operating these machines, but a staff member helped and the machine disgorged a ticket with a number on it, 257. Then I sat down on one of the sofa benches (for want of a better description.) But, no sooner had my bottom made contact with the sofa than I had to over-hear a conversation right behind me, someone venting forth on some issue or other to a younger man. It was more than I could take, more like an episode from EastEnders. I decided to move away and sit on another of the benches. I was struck by how few people there were in the place, because generally, if I have to go in there, you can sit and wait for a couple of hours. I was wandering, when the computer generated voice was speaking, directing customers to various numbered desks, which are arranged in a couple of rows, each with a bright red, digital display above each, and separated from one another by coloured screens in a range of pastel shades, it made me wonder, do Alexa or Siri, the Artificial Intelligence 'assistants' on my iPhone and Kindle, ever get to know this invisible and formless person? Just the sort of rubbish that goes through my head whilst sitting and waiting. It wasn't long before my number was called by the computerised system and I was walking across the floor to the desk with my number flashing above it. Quite a surprise to be called so rapidly. I had taken a carrier bag containing my iPhone, a notebook and pencil to possibly make notes and other reading material.
I handed over the form and the two bank statements which were required and the lady at the desk photocopied them and handed back the originals and that was all. She said it would be around two weeks before I heard anything and I could ring their welfare department who would be dealing with my discretionary payment. So I bade my farewells and walked out of the office and went into Costa on the way back into the shopping centre and had a ham and cheese toastie and a mango and passion fruit cooler, just perfect for such a warm day and, from the number of people in the store, I think everyone else had the same idea as me.
Saturday. It has become a good deal cooler, thank goodness. Tuesday was scorching, as I think I mentioned in the earlier post, when I was at Camphill. Plenty to drink is the order of the day when the temperature rises. It rained overnight, but only a light shower. Nothing to get you drenched. This morning I was hoping to get a bit more of a lie in, much to Alfie's displeasure. I lay in bed, just chilling out and then I heard little doggy feet on the stairs. Alfie is quite capable of jumping on the bed if he sets his mind to it, but I have to pick him up and put him on the bed. He settles down and I hope he will sleep, but not Alfie. I soon feel him prodding me with his paw and then licking my arm. It's clear he's attempting to gain my attention so that I get dressed and take him out. I resist as long as possible but then I just cave in and go to the bathroom to have a shave and then dressed to go downstairs, take my medication and get ready to take Alfie out. As soon as I sit in the lounge and put on my shoes, he starts his barking and excited noises. I have to check the back patio door is closed and locked, pick up several doggy bags from the kitchen unit and then attach the lead to Alfie's harness, by which time he's transmogrified into the Tasmanian Devil, barking and yanking at the lead with his teeth. It is then, as I step out of the front door, that I discover that is's raining, even if only a light drizzle. This doesn't faze Alfie as we cross the road and into the alleyway which leads down into Eaglestone Park. I decided not to attempt the entire circuit of the park and cross over between the play area and the climbing wall. A few weeks ago it was discovered that it hd been covered in graffiti, which I noticed a few days ago. Some of it including obscene words. I would have used my iPhone to take a photo of it and put it on Facebook, but, because the language was so foul I decided against it, but looking at this wall this morning it looks as if Council workmen have managed to obliterate the graffiti with paint, or what appears to be paint.
There was another musical evening at the Oaktree Centre, home of Shenley Christian Fellowship. Plenty to eat as well and it's great to enjoy people singing and otherwise showing their talents in this way.
As soon as Robert and Phil had packed up their equipment in their car and driven off, and I'd had another look at their handwork (I don't think the garden has looked so tidy as it is currently. It will need rimming on a monthly basis to keep it in tip-top condition. I can expect to get a call from my landlord in the next couple of weeks, and, even when I've virtually sweated blood to clean the house for his visit, he won't notice the cleanliness of the place, but just say 'have you cut the grass?' It's usually an annual visit for no more than 10 minutes.) I prepared to drive into the centre of town, park in my usual place and the walk through to the Civic Offices (conveniently next door to my bank, the NatWest.) On arrival you have to sign in using a touch screen. I'm no good at operating these machines, but a staff member helped and the machine disgorged a ticket with a number on it, 257. Then I sat down on one of the sofa benches (for want of a better description.) But, no sooner had my bottom made contact with the sofa than I had to over-hear a conversation right behind me, someone venting forth on some issue or other to a younger man. It was more than I could take, more like an episode from EastEnders. I decided to move away and sit on another of the benches. I was struck by how few people there were in the place, because generally, if I have to go in there, you can sit and wait for a couple of hours. I was wandering, when the computer generated voice was speaking, directing customers to various numbered desks, which are arranged in a couple of rows, each with a bright red, digital display above each, and separated from one another by coloured screens in a range of pastel shades, it made me wonder, do Alexa or Siri, the Artificial Intelligence 'assistants' on my iPhone and Kindle, ever get to know this invisible and formless person? Just the sort of rubbish that goes through my head whilst sitting and waiting. It wasn't long before my number was called by the computerised system and I was walking across the floor to the desk with my number flashing above it. Quite a surprise to be called so rapidly. I had taken a carrier bag containing my iPhone, a notebook and pencil to possibly make notes and other reading material.
I handed over the form and the two bank statements which were required and the lady at the desk photocopied them and handed back the originals and that was all. She said it would be around two weeks before I heard anything and I could ring their welfare department who would be dealing with my discretionary payment. So I bade my farewells and walked out of the office and went into Costa on the way back into the shopping centre and had a ham and cheese toastie and a mango and passion fruit cooler, just perfect for such a warm day and, from the number of people in the store, I think everyone else had the same idea as me.
Saturday. It has become a good deal cooler, thank goodness. Tuesday was scorching, as I think I mentioned in the earlier post, when I was at Camphill. Plenty to drink is the order of the day when the temperature rises. It rained overnight, but only a light shower. Nothing to get you drenched. This morning I was hoping to get a bit more of a lie in, much to Alfie's displeasure. I lay in bed, just chilling out and then I heard little doggy feet on the stairs. Alfie is quite capable of jumping on the bed if he sets his mind to it, but I have to pick him up and put him on the bed. He settles down and I hope he will sleep, but not Alfie. I soon feel him prodding me with his paw and then licking my arm. It's clear he's attempting to gain my attention so that I get dressed and take him out. I resist as long as possible but then I just cave in and go to the bathroom to have a shave and then dressed to go downstairs, take my medication and get ready to take Alfie out. As soon as I sit in the lounge and put on my shoes, he starts his barking and excited noises. I have to check the back patio door is closed and locked, pick up several doggy bags from the kitchen unit and then attach the lead to Alfie's harness, by which time he's transmogrified into the Tasmanian Devil, barking and yanking at the lead with his teeth. It is then, as I step out of the front door, that I discover that is's raining, even if only a light drizzle. This doesn't faze Alfie as we cross the road and into the alleyway which leads down into Eaglestone Park. I decided not to attempt the entire circuit of the park and cross over between the play area and the climbing wall. A few weeks ago it was discovered that it hd been covered in graffiti, which I noticed a few days ago. Some of it including obscene words. I would have used my iPhone to take a photo of it and put it on Facebook, but, because the language was so foul I decided against it, but looking at this wall this morning it looks as if Council workmen have managed to obliterate the graffiti with paint, or what appears to be paint.
There was another musical evening at the Oaktree Centre, home of Shenley Christian Fellowship. Plenty to eat as well and it's great to enjoy people singing and otherwise showing their talents in this way.
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