Dying Macbook

 Sunday 19th December. 2.35 p.m. My MacBook Air has finally given up and died. This must have been around Tuesday or Wednesday this week. Then my internet connection began to play up. There are three yellow lights on the router and when you have a steady internet connection all three will come on, but the centre one didn’t come on I realized that something was wrong somewhere, but what it was I didn’t have the faintest idea. I thought perhaps I should ring my service provider, Sky, to see if they could sort things out. I had noticed that sometimes, when watching streamed video, there was often a point when the video would freeze or stutter. I came to the conclusion that my internet connection needed upgrading to a faster connection. I would need to ring up Sky to help sort out the problem or even find an alternative internet provider. 

Then I got a telephone call. A lady with a vaguely foreign accent who told me she was from the Sky technical department. I have to admit, it was far too much of a coincidence that I was to get this call and was somewhat suspicious. I asked if she was real and she said she was. Then she put on the line a man with an equally foreign accent who said he could sort out my technical issue and that I would need to download an app from the App Store, which I did. It was when he asked me for a number which came up within th.is app that I became very suspicious and because I had real difficulties understanding his thick accent, I hung up.All I can say is, thank goodness I did.

The next day I decided to call Sky about the concerns I’d been having with my internet connection. It took me a while to find the right telephone number on the Sky website. You really have to search for it, because it is really buried in the most unlikely place.  It is certainty  not given prominence on the home page. It wasn’t long before I managed to speak to a human. (How I hate those voice-activated ‘menus.’ They never seem to recognize what I say. You end up eventually having to speak to a real person.)

I was told that Sky never rings customers in the fashion the fake callers had done. They would never ask you to give passwords, bank details or ask you to download anything, such as an app. It was too much of a coincidence that I had the call when I did. It was just as well I hung up when I did.

As a result of all this I have now upgraded my internet connection and have a new router which is now running and there is definitely a faster connection and the buffering has stopped when I'm watching streamed video. All set up and I  now have all my devices re-set with the new wifi password.

Revolting Tories

Okay, okay, it's a bit overdone to use that for a blog post title, but I will explain later.

9.50 a.m. It was cold and windy yesterday.  As I've mentioned in earlier posts, Alfie doesn't like cold, wet, windy, rain, and so on. You can't blame him. Yesterday I took him out mid-morning. He wasn't out for more than thirty seconds, turned tail, and beetled back indoors. But part-way along the corridor he did a naughty on the floor! Not like him at all. Not even as a puppy. He was easy to house train. But as an adult? No! He has had accidents in the middle of the night, but not outside the flat. I had to pick it up and we head to dispose of it in one of the bins within the boundaries of Oldbrook Green. (why can't there be a bin for this use further back towards Dexter House?) Quite a jaunt, but nevertheless, it had to be done. 

This morning, around 9.15, we went out again and Alfie did his business on the grass. I was in the process of picking it up in one of the disposable bags I carry in a pocket in my trousers, was just turning round to walk along the path to the bin across Oldbrook Boulevard and onto the Green, when a young man shot towards me on one of those electric scooters. I barely had time to stand aside as he hurtled past, narrowly avoiding being hit midships and possibly causing real damage to my person. No attempt to slow down, apologize or take evasive action. It really shocked me, particularly as you can't hear these scooters as they rush about. Just dangerous.

Okay. Boris Johnson gave another of the by now regular press conferences regarding the pandemic from 10 Downing Street. We are going to have to endure the reintroduction of some restrictions and new regulations, such as the wearing of masks in confined spaces, such as in shops (also, within the common areas in Dexter House.) Also, he said we have to 'work at home where possible.' You have to wear a mask in shops and offices, 'but don't cancel Christmas parties.' This doesn't make a lot of sense. Why in shops, offices and indoor areas? This includes theatres, which I trust doesn't mean the performers, just the audience. But I hear that some of Boris' Backbench MPs are threatening to rebel against the new restrictions. Why is the reason for my blog post title? 'Revolting Tories.' We shall have to wait and see how this plays out. Meanwhile, we will have to put up with 'Plan B' as these new restrictions are called, as they will be in place until around the end of February, all because of the omicron variant of the covid virus. Such is life.

So, if there's supposed to be a 'plan B,' and that doesn't work, does it follow that we can expect a 'plan C,' a 'plan D' and so ad infinitum? Please tell me NOT. We can't keep panicking when a new variant comes along. As mentioned before, all viruses mutate. That's the nature of viruses. We just need to stop this aimless race against a hidden 'danger.' There are dangers all over the place. Just crossing the road is a danger, so in getting in a car, walking along the street. You can't possibly live totally risk-free. So let's just get back to some sort of normal.

Then we have 'Partygate.' It has been discovered that there was a Christmas party in 10 Downing Street over the Christmas period, 2020 when the country was put into Lockdown. A video was discovered which showed staff laughing and mocking the fact that a party was held, regardless of lockdown, and seemingly not under social distancing restrictions. Boris Johnson has attempted to deny anything happened, but after the various gaffes, he has made it's difficult to believe the man. I think his days as Prime Minister are limited and it has now been revealed that there were TWO More parties held over Christmas 2020, one being at the Ministry of Education. Heads will roll and have started to roll. Is Boris going to come clean? I fear not.

Friday. 1.05 p.m. Not quite as cold as earlier in the week. The sun is shining, but there's a slight nip in the air.

Monday. 10.15 a.m. I'm going to rest this blog until after the Christmas break, so, once this post is completed, I won't be continuing with it until well into the New Year, so goodnight and God bless. Have a lovely Christmas!

A Red Sky In The Morning . . . Boris' Trousers on Fire

 Sunday. 10.15 a.m. Another cold and blustery day. The cough is still causing problems. I continue to take the cough mixture, and it seems to help. I didn't go to church because of the cold and the effect it would have on the cough. I took a dose of cough mixture and then attempted to watch the SCF service via Facebook, but the whole thing froze up and wouldn't work properly. Furthermore, I imagine it's got something to do with the church broadband connection. Several other people who were watching posted that they were finding the images were freezing or at least juddering. It really needs dealing with, unfortunately.

Monday. 8.10 a.m. It's cold again this morning, but I could see a bright red sky from my window as I was having my breakfast. What do they say? 'Red sky in the morning, shepherd's warning. Red sky at night, shepherd's delight.' Not sure how accurate, but let's wait and see whether it gets colder or even windy. Storm Arwen has done its worst and calmed down and disappeared, but next, we have to expect Storm Barra. Don't ask me where they got the name from.

Wednesday. 7.45 a.m. Alfie is definitely not one to like cold, wind, rain or generally wet in any form. This undoubtedly this morning when we went out and the little tyke was in and out as quickly as possible and back tucked up on the sofa, but, as I write, on my bed, probably under the duvet.

11.10 p.m. I was just getting off to sleep when the merry sound of the fire alarm went off. No doubt someone in another flat within Dexter House has either forgotten to check their oven was on with their oven chips or something, a fag-end was left smoldering in an ash-tray, or else they burnt their toast. Either way, it's deafening which means I moved from the bedroom into the lounge, and Alfie's looking at me as he doesn't like the noise. Who can blame him? Whatever it is that set the confounded thing off means I get to write a bit more of this and Alfie's attempting to climb on my knee which is impossible with the laptop in the way. There is a fire engine outside in Dexter Avenue as I can hear the engine running and I could see the flashing blue light when I look out of the window, not that easy as my Christmas tree is in the way. I just hope they manage to discover the reason for the alarm being set off as my ears are ringing from the sound of the alarm and giving me a headache.

Incidentally, on a different matter, has nobody realized that omicron is an anagram of moronic? Or that the two words delta and omicron spell 'media control'? Too right. The conspiracy theories regarding the pandemic and the virus just go on. Boris Johnson now attempting to wriggle out of the latest scandal regarding the Christmas party which was alleged to have taken place in Number 10 Downing Street last year after pandemic restrictions were introduced and not adhering to the aforementioned regulations and making a mockery of the whole situation when the rest of us were in lockdown and not supposed to attend any sort of party. Totally contemptible. Makes me wonder how much longer Johnson can last as Prime Minister as he is rapidly turning into a liability, to not only the Conservative party but also the country as a whole.

11.30 p.m. The alarm is still going and no sign of the wretched noise coming to an end. What exactly IS going on? I can't see smoke emanating from any window or anywhere else, so we'll just have to endure it I suppose.

11.55 p.m. By around 11.40 I'd had enough. The fire engine has gone. So, what set the alarm off? I got dressed as Alfie was beginning to get stressed. He can't cope with the noise. We went out through the front door near the SHO's office and there were two men fiddling with the fire alarm keypad, looking as if they were aimlessly pressing random keys on the pad. I don't know who they were, but by the time we'd walked around to the other entrance on Strudwick Drive the alarm had stopped, so we went back in and returned to my flat. Thank goodness it was over and silence reigned once more! I presume there is a fault with the alarm system.

Virus Variant and Proof of The Pudding

There's supposed to be another variant of the coronavirus. Well, there would be, wouldn't there? There has to be. Just to make sure, we have yet another lockdown Christmas. Can't we just get used to it and be done with it? As Mr Jones the butcher says repeatedly in 'Dad's Army,' '"Don't panic!" It's all negatives. The media seems to love negatives. In fact, they seem to thrive on it.

Saturday. 9.15 p.m. Boris has been on doing his impersonation of being Prime Minister, telling us like good sheep that the omivirus (is that it's new name?) has arrived at the UK's shores, and we must keep on being told what to do etc. I mean, omicron. Why is this variant named after the 15th letter of the Greek alphabet?

I have managed to ice the Christmas cake I made. A layer of marzipan and then soft white icing. No sooner had I completed it than I had a parcel arrive with the decorations, and they are now on the cake! I have really got no idea how it tastes, and I can't wait to try it around Christmas day.

Monday. 10.25 a.m. A layer of snow covering the grass and other surfaces when I took out Alfie at around 7.20 this morning. It's not very thick, but still, it's still snow. Whether we get further remains to be seen. Very cold and I must remember to find my gloves as my hands were beginning to go blue, which is never a good sign.

Tuesday. 10.30 p.m. It's been a good deal milder today. I think Alfie appreciates it when it's warmer.

I went to Sainsbury's. Basically, to collect a repeat prescription from Lloyd's pharmacy. I have been attempting to get a doctor's appointment for the past two days. The cough is getting annoying and I really need something to relieve it. You ring and ring and only get a stupid recorded voice. I did attempt to leave a message for the receptionist, but then they emailed me to say I should ring to make an appointment. So much for our 'wonderful' NHS! What are they doing? Having extended tea breaks? More likely they are using the pandemic as an excuse to not do their jobs properly. I bought a bottle of Robitussin which I have started dosing myself with. It seems to be working. I just have to keep on taking it and hope it does its job.

I bought a sweet little Christmas tree in Sainsbury's. A real one, potted and ready to decorate. 

Wednesday. 6.40 a.m. Goodness! The 1st December. Where has the year gone? Gobbled up by covid, unfortunately. We have to wear face masks if we enter shops (which I had to in Sainsbury's yesterday morning. I thought I would get away without one, but the thought police were on duty so fortunately I had one in my coat pocket.

I have started to decorate the Christmas tree. Not only that, but I bought two sets of LED tree lights but ended up having to untangle them. Not an easy job. I went to Hobbycraft this morning and got some crêpe paper. Goodness, even that is made in China. I can't believe we can't make it in Britain, instead of having to import it from the other side of the world. Just think of the carbon emissions produced to transport it. Crazy! I then went into Pets At Home, which is further along the parade of units, and bought a small water bowl for Alfie which we can take with us when we go to Worcester for Christmas. Oh, and some treats, which will keep his nibs happy. I then walked along the parade to have a look in Smyth's toys. I have to say, I'm not impressed. Just a load of junk basically and plastic which will eventually end up in landfill. Nothing I would deem in any way suitable for either of the grandchildren. I'll just have to have a word with Chloe as to what she suggests. Something they can share, although I don't think that Rosie is exactly of the age to be able to share.

7.00 p.m. As I write this I can hear the wind howling around outside. Sounds somewhat mysterious and I almost expect Cathy to start knocking on the window to be let in, her out of 'Wuthering Heights.'

Thursday. 8.10 a.m. We were out at around around 7.30 a.m. this morning. There must have been a slight flurry of snow overnight, because the grass was covered in a light dusting of the white stuff. Alfie was soon beetling back indoors, having done his usual sniffing around act. I can hardly blame him as I'm not over-delighted with snow.

I made some mince pies to take to the final session of The Prayer Course this evening. It was mid-afternoon when this decision was made. I had all the ingredients, so I thought it would be a good dry run for making a far larger batch to take to Worcester. I was more than pleased with the result. The pastry was rich and crumbly, and I have to admit they tasted far better than bought mince pies. As they say, the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and all seven were consumed at the Prayer course. So, I'm more than happy to make a larger batch, but may keep them baking a few minutes longer than I did this test batch.

As regards this new virus variant, I think the that term 'proof of the pudding is in the eating' can just as well be used in relation to the virus as well as mince pies. We are told that we have to wait around three weeks to discover how infections it is, and it will be well into January before we can return to anything close to 'normal.'

Winter Draws Nearer

Saturday. 8.20 p.m. The weather is getting colder. There is the possibility of snow in some parts of Britain, according to the weather forecast on BBC Breakfast this morning.

I have been baking a traditional Christmas fruit cake. It's not something I have made before, so I had to have a look for a recipe and chose one by Delia Smith. I got most of the ingredients in Sainsbury's during the week. Except I left out the mixed dried fruit, which I don't like. I couldn't get brandy or port, or, at least, in small bottles. Do they call them half bottles? I'm not certain. I had bought a high-grade spring form tin to bake the cake in. Because my oven is difficult to get an accurate temperature, I bought an oven thermometer from Amazon. I think it's vital to have your oven set to the recommended temperature before you decide to make a cake or, indeed, anything you are about to cook. It required a good four hours to bake, which meant I needed time to mix up the ingredients and then allow plenty of time to bake the cake. So on Thursday, I began to follow the instructions in the recipe at around 9 a.m. It came out of the oven at around 6.30 p.m. I had managed to get a small bottle of port from Aldi when I went to Curry's to buy some leads for the Portal TV for when it arrived and would be required for setting it up. I mixed in some port to the dried fruit before stirring up the cake mixture and putting it in the tin and then the oven.

I have removed some over-cooked outer layer of the cake. I may have to have another go at scraping off some more more before I attempt to ice it. I remember my mother used to make Christmas cakes and ice them, with a first layer of marzipan and then the whole thing covered in white icing, I think it's called royal icing. You either like it or you don't. I don't mind so long as the icing isn't too hard. 

Tuesday 4.15 p.m. I have booked my car in to be serviced at Bleak Hall Motors. I have managed to arrange it via their website and paid, getting a discount in the process. It's booked for 8 a.m. this Thursday. I then went to Sainsbury's and bought marzipan and rollable icing which should make the cake icing a good deal easier. I don't think you could get pre-made icing or marzipan when my mother was around making Christmas cakes. Not only that, but I think you just roll each layer out and use warm apricot jam as a sort of glue to stick on the marzipan onto the cake surface. 

Wednesday. 4.10 p.m. I have managed to have a fascinating Zoom session from Bletchley Park on my new Portal TV about Britain and America and the Battle of The Atlantic during World War 2. It works really well and makes things a good deal better than having to peer at a small laptop screen instead. There are a couple more documentaries to go in a four-part series, and then they will be uploaded onto YouTube. Very pleased with the purchase of the Portal TV, which was on offer due to Black Friday offers. I have also bought the sixth and final book in the Peter Ackroyd 'History of England' series called 'Innovation,' which came from Amazon this morning. So, I have that to look forward to reading, although I have plenty of other reading material to read first and, looking at the pile of books atop my bookshelf, it should keep me occupied well into 2022.

Thursday. 2.25 p.m. I took the Renault to Bleak Hall Motors for the 8 a.m. service today. It has had to remain there until tomorrow because they discovered two rear springs which need replacing, and they can't get the parts until tomorrow. I walked back to Dexter House as it isn't particularly that great a distance and will wait until tomorrow when they should ring me to let me know it's ready. I was told I could have driven it provided I didn't go far or over any speed bumps at speed, but I didn't want to risk further problems if the remaining springs were to break. I was fortunate I took the car for service when I did because it could have broken down on the motorway going to Worcester over the Christmas period. Better to get it repaired rather than leave it.

Definitely a good deal colder today. Probably cold enough for snow. I hope not, but could be. There was a light icing on the car windows this morning before I drove to Bleak Hall Motors.

Friday. 8.a.m. Really very this morning. Storm Arwen about to strike, but according to BBC Breakfast it looks as if it's the north-east of England and Scotland which will be struck the hardest. They show it on the maps on the weather forecast in bright yellow which makes me think of those horrible plastic rain coats you used to have which made you hot and sweaty. Pac-A-Mac? I can't say I remember.

2.00.p.m. I had been waiting in expectation from the garage to ring to tell me they'd finished with the car. Then at midday I just happened to glance at text messages and they had sent a text to say the car was ready to collect. There was no point hanging around, so I walked to Bleak Hall. It has been threatening rain. It took me barely half an hour to walk the distance, and it was paid for and I came home soon after. As I write this, the wind has become stronger. I have taken out a few minutes ago, but as soon as we got outside, and I deposited him on the grass, his majesty turned round and came back inside. I don't blame him, but it was funny. He just doesn't like rain or cold.

Disappointments and Frustrations

Sunday. 5.55 p.m. Yesterday the men's breakfast group met at the  Harvester  Fountain inn in Loughton. It's just off Watling Street and just along the road from where Carol and I lived when we were first married, in Crownhill. 

Just a matter of interest. It intrigues me that Loughton is pronounced as it sounds (Low-ton) while Woughton-On-The-Green, the next village going out of Milton Keynes (both being villages now swallowed up by the new town of Milton Keynes), is pronounced Woof-ton. Just makes things difficult for anyone new to the area. Probably one of the quirks of the English language. Try explaining that to an American, or any other foreign visitor!

Thursday. 7.25 p.m. I haven't been keeping up with things in these blog posts. On Thursday I drove to Camphill with the hope of meeting the drama workshop guys and the new drama team. I went to the office and was told that I could do my Disclosure online. But then when I got home I had an email from Camphill to say that there had been another change of plan. Due to the disruption of the pantomime which is being performed in the Chrysalis Theatre over the Christmas period, I would not be able to meet the team, so I will have to arrange another day to visit and do a taster day (which is what I did originally when I first went to Camphill as a volunteer in around April 2019.) After that, I can do the disclosure and hopefully get back to working in the drama workshop.

I had an email on Wednesday morning saying that I had been 'put forward' for walk-on work at Pinewood Studios on a Disney production. No name or anything much. I needed to upload several photos to the Pop website, the casting site. I got Barbara to take these shots on my iPhone and then managed to upload them successfully. I would have to go to Pinewood on Friday for a costume fitting and the filming day would be on Monday. As usual, a wait to get a response, and then today I got another email telling me I had been released (i.e.; not selected.) Ho Hum! It was what I expected, but one always hopes one will eventually get selected. Just one day on something or other would be great. Such is life!

Saturday. 11.35 p.m. I have been interested in something called 'Portal,' which has been created by Facebook. It's a technology that allows you to video chat with people, your family, friends, and others by using a screen with a camera attached. OK, you can do all this on your PC or laptop and I have used Zoom during the various lockdowns we've had during the past eighteen months or more, especially for church meetings and bits of market research I have done.  It is connected to Facebook live video. Except I wouldn't want to have another gadget as I already have enough gadgets. I had imagined it would be great to be able to video chat through my television set if I was able to have a camera attached to my set so that I could use Zoom or other similar video conferencing software on my MacBook and that connected somehow to my television set.  The only problem with Zoom on a laptop is that staring at a small screen and then the tiny postage stamp-sized images of the other people in the meeting can be quite a strain. So, what amazement was it to find that Facebook had released such a piece of technology and called Portal TV? Zoom will work on it and as it's on a large television screen it would be far more comfortable to use looking at a larger image. Not only that, but you can video call family and friends using this technology. Then I found that this gadget was going to be available at half price for Black Friday. (Why does Black Friday last for several weeks? Not just one particular Friday? And could someone explain why it's Black? No, please, don't. I don't want to get into such a discussion on here. . . ) I could buy one at this low price via BT. Which is what I did. Paid for, and it would be delivered by Mailforce, part of Royal Mail. Simple. Or so I imagined. It wasn't the ordering that was difficult. Just the delivering. The thing was ordered on Wednesday, and it was scheduled to be delivered on Friday, between around 12.30-1.30 p.m. Which I learned via email and text message.

I waited in expectation of the delivery of the parcel. At around 12.30 I got a buzz on the intercom from the front door of Dexter House to say the aforementioned parcel had been delivered but to the wrong address.     Not my flat number, but the house opposite. This is constantly being a problem. The gentleman from the house opposite had a card with my address on it, and it said I could collect my parcel after 24 hours! Looking at the card it had my correct address, so why didn't the delivery driver merely turn round and see that Dexter House was opposite? Well, it was merely a matter of reading the address correctly. No real excuse. So, I was annoyed that I would have to wait a full 24 hours before I could collect the parcel.

The next day I drove into the Centre MK to meet up with my friend Nick who came to Milton Keynes on a bus from Northampton. I intended to park in the Secklow car park next to The Point and normally have no issues using the RingGo app on my phone. But for some reason, it would not work because you have to put in more identity before you pay. So it was fortunate I had sufficient coins in my jacket pocket to put in one of the ticket machines. Yet another of life's frustrations. When technology works, it's fine, but when it doesn't or is changed for whatever reason, it can be annoying.

Having met up with Nick I then drove to the mail delivery office in Brinklow. I have had to collect several parcels from here, so I was hoping that I could pick up the parcel and then return to my flat to set up the Portal TV on my television set. But no. Having taken the card which was left when the drive was going to deliver the parcel to the wrong house, I then learnt that I would need to collect the parcel fro the Parcelforce unit in Tongwell. So I got back in the car and drove across Milton Keynes to Tongwell, to just opposite Willen village. But, lo and behold! I was told by the rather disinterested girl on the reception desk that my parcel was at the Post Office in the centre of Milton Keynes! This was beginning to get somewhat repetitive. Why on earth wasn't I given this information in the first place?  I could easily have collected it when I was with Nick earlier in the day. Another car journey into the centre. But where to park? I had no change on me, thanks to having to use the payment machine in the Secklow car park when the RingGo app didn't work as it should, so I drove around aimlessly hoping there might be a free spot to park whilst I went into the Post Office to collect the parcel. No luck! Then I found myself driving into the newly-opened multi-storey car park next to John Lewis. There was no alternative but to drive in and park. I first had to negotiate the barrier, having to put my debit card into the machine. I later found that I should have taken a ticket from the machine and once I'd collected the parcel I then realized I had to put this ticket (which I didn't have.) in one of the payment machines to then pay with my card. Oh, what an adventure the entire afternoon had been. But I did manage to get out eventually, managing to get a ticket from the exit and then putting it into another machine to lift the barrier, so I could get out!

On arriving back at Dexter House I then found that some kind person had parked their car across the entrance to my parking space, which was so nice of them, but later in the evening, I went down to move my car onto my space once the car had driven away. Just a wonderful end to a long, and difficult afternoon.

November Cold and Other Matters

 Friday. 4.40 p.m. I have developed a rather unpleasant cold. I don't think I've had a cold since the 1990s, but certainly not in the time Carol I were together. I have kept to myself and didn't go to the 5th session of The Prayer Course at the Oaktree Centre yesterday evening. It's just a matter of letting it run its course, but as I write this it seems to be clearing up. I'm almost certain that I picked it up after being locked down due to the pandemic for the past eighteen months or more.

Sunday. 9.25 a.m. The cold is still hanging on. I'll just have to let it run its course. I'm not going to church this morning, more concerned that I would spread it to others than how I feel. Actually, it's just a runny nose and a cough, but that's all. I had far worse. I may get some honey and lemon to drink. A classic actor's remedy for a cold or laryngitis.

I've been out with Alfie twice. We discovered that it was chilly, but there is a somewhat watery sun. Alfie loves the leaves that are strewn along the path as we approach the crossing onto Oldbrook Green. A lot of noise from fireworks last night. Alfie's not reacted one bit. He doesn't seem in the least bit bothered by them, although the largest explosions made me jump. Almost sounded like bombs going off.

Monday. 7.25 a.m. It's cold out. I'm glad I've got extra layers to put on. Red-rosy sky. What does the old proverb say? 'Red sky at night, shepherd's delight. Red sky in the morning, shepherd's warning.' I think it's quite accurate, so we'll wait and see what sort of turn the weather makes. I just hope it's not too cold, windy, foggy, or icy.

Tuesday. 8.15 a.m. It's actually quite sunny and mild as I write this. Goodness! Can it be real? Is it connected to climate change? Probably. Possibly. Just another balmy day.

The wretched cold has run its course. I think the fact that I kept to myself for the past few days has paid off. I still have a bit of a cough, but that's nothing compared to a runny nose. I did have a bit of a temperature at one point, but that's settled back to normal.

7.35 p.m. I have finally finished the book 'The Thirties,' By Juliet Gardiner. It's a hefty tome of some 750 pages, and I can't believe I've been reading it since July! Only a few pages a day, so it's no wonder it has taken so long. I've just started 'Hamnet' by Maggie O'Farrell. I'm only one page in and I'm really enjoying it.

Saturday. 6.30 p.m. I didn't know whether to post this, but after seconds of thought, here I go. A few weeks ago I had a phone call from the undertakers who did Carol's funeral. Had I considered what I wanted to do with her ashes? I have been racking my brain for almost the last three years since she passed away. I didn't know where to scatter them. I had considered Whipsnade Zoo because it was one of our favourite places to visit. But I had to consider whether ZSL, who operates the zoo, would allow this. I had considered Dunstable Downs, just below the zoo. I hadn't done anything about this matter, until after the telephone call, when I was out walking Alfie around Oldbrook Green. In a sort of light-bulb moment, I thought of Salcey Forest, which was somewhere we visited regularly to walk our dogs. Then I thought, I had better contact whoever manages the place to ask if they would allow this. I thought it was important to ask permission as some places didn't allow the scattering of ashes. I found their email address and sent an email off and waited for a reply. I eventually got a response and was told it was okay but I mustn't dig the ashes in. I texted Daniel to tell him what my intentions were and to let his brother, Sam, know. I didn't get a response, so I found his email address and emailed him, repeating what I had put in the text message. I got an answer after several days in which he said if I let him know when I was going to scatter his mother's ashes he might be able to come down to be there.  On Tuesday I went on my own to Newport Pagnell to collect the ashes from the undertakers, Masons. Not something I was actually looking forward to, be it went well enough. I arranged the 10th November (last Wednesday), which gave him more than enough time for Daniel to sort out having the time off work and also plenty of time to get down here in Milton Keynes (I wanted the scattering to be around 2 p.m.) But I heard no more so went ahead, having asked my friends from Church, Mike, and Margaret, to go with me. So, that is exactly what we did last Wednesday, driving all the way to Salcey forest and I found just the perfect place to scatter the ashes. It was very peaceful with very few people around which probably wouldn't have been the case if we'd gone on a Saturday or Sunday. Margaret read a Bible passage and Mike said a prayer before I scattered the ashes and later I took a photograph of the site which I later sent to Carol's parents in Bournemouth. We then went to the cafe for hot chocolate and then drove back to Milton Keynes. The weather was perfect, with no rain, which might have made the proceedings somewhat difficult. Having been there quite a few times in the past, we had found it to be very muddy, but now most of the paths have a decent surface to walk on and the roads and car parking areas are similarly surfaced, making life far easier for all concerned.

Worcester and Wellies

Friday. 6.40 p.m. Yesterday (Thursday) I went to Sports Direct with the intention of buying a pair of Wellington Boots. I was certainly not paying somewhere in the region of £60-£100 for a pair, which seems totally ridiculous. Just a bog-standard pair of Dunlop Wellies and I browsed in the shoe department and chose Karrimor walking shoes, good solid shoes with, hopefully, tough soles. I think they will do the job admirably. I think I have mentioned the two pairs of Skechers began to leak water and thus became unwearable in wet weather. When I went to Chloe and Steve's around three years ago, just after Carol died. We all went out, and it was necessary for me to borrow a pair of Wellingtons, so it seemed a good idea to arm myself with them for the trip to visit again tomorrow. Chloe has told me we may be visiting an English Heritage property and wet weather gear is in order, so I will pack the Wellingtons as well as my bright yellow Regatta coat. She also said I should wear earplugs, no doubt because the four boys, George, Eddie, and Arthur, are somewhat boisterous and noisy. Well, that's what little boys do, so I won't be in the least bit surprised. Just be nice to see them all for the first time in almost two years.

Saturday. 6.00 a.m. So, today I'm going with Alfie to Worcester! I've sorted everything I need to take with me and will pack it all into the car and drive out of Milton Keynes. I topped up with diesel yesterday, which should see me well all the way there and back, so no time wasted on fuel on the way.

I managed to get everything loaded into the car, along with Alfie in the cage in the back of the car. He made a lot of noise, barking, and so on, but once we were moving and driving out of Milton Keynes he settled down for the rest of the journey. I know my way well to the M40, and it took around an hour before we eventually drove onto the motorway. Unfortunately, it was raining, although relatively lightly, but the moving traffic threw up spray, which obscured the motorway ahead and to some extent, behind, making overtaking somewhat hazardous, and I had to drive below the normal top speed, but it was necessary to keep safe. 

By the time I got off the M5 for Worcester, I had to use Google Maps to direct me to Steve and Chloe's home, and around ten minutes later I was drawing up outside their house. I was greeted at the door by George, Eddie, and Arthur. Really excited to see me! I just realized that it was almost two years since I visited. I briefly visited when I went to see Arthur after he was born, taken there by friends from church, but not for a longer visit.

After lunch, we went to Witley Court, an English Heritage property around a twenty-minute drive out of Worcester. It was just as well I had my wellies, as it was quite wet and muddy. The boys enjoyed playing on a climbing frame, which included a rope walk and a slope to scramble up. Then we went to the mansion area, now a ruin, because it had been burnt down in the 1930s. A Victorian pile, a real hodgepodge of styles, some neoclassical, some Italianate, lots of columns, and very excessive in style. It was interesting to be able to wander around inside the ruins of this mansion and see how it had been built and get a glimpse of what must have been a really impressive building. Interesting to see that the inside walls were rough brick and the exterior was covered by a relatively thin layer of dressed stone. All very similar to a set for a film or play, the audience side is painted to look 'real' and impressive whilst, if you go round the back, it's rough wood, plywood and canvas.

We had a picnic, sitting on the grass near the most magnificent fountain. It was somewhat in need of a good clean, but that didn't detract from its size and scope, some sort of, presumably, mythical horseman spearing what looked like a dragon. The horse had wings, although very small. Was it supposed to depict St George and The Dragon? Who knows. As we ate our picnic the fountain burst forth into life, water gushing out of the mouths of fishes and several from each side of the central section and a larger fountain in the centre of everything which shot into the air to a great height.

Witley Court fountain in action.

It was beginning to get dark by the time we walked back to the car. Back at Steve and Chloe's home, we unpacked the children (having for to deal with is somewhat like an army on manoeuvres. You have extra stuff with a six-month-old child to consider.) All loaded into each of the two cars, with me in Chloe's, and we got back to the house. 

We had supper (what do you call your evening meal? Dinner if you're posh, supper if you're not so posh? Tea? Which is what Carol used to call it. I suppose it depends on what area of the country you come from. Tea for me, when I was growing up was bread and butter with jam or honey or any sort of spread on it. Today it might be chocolate spread or peanut butter, followed by cake ('bread before cake!', as my mother used to say. I digress . . . ) 

Then time for bed. It was difficult sleeping in a single bed with Alfie . . . He's used to sharing my king-sized bed. I had his own cosy dog bed with me, bought from Milton Keynes. After some effort to keep him on the bed, he eventually decided it was easier to sleep in his own bed and I got a good night's sleep.

Next morning I was planning to go home early afternoon. Not before I'd been surprised with a birthday cake with one candle on (which I blew out!) presents, colourful socks and chocolates and then around midday we had a proper family roast lunch, which I haven't had in years. Sitting around a table is something I haven't done in quite a while. Then, packed up my belongings in the car, first installing Alfie in the cage in the boot, with quite a lot of barking. I managed to set the SatNav properly and for the first time I got the voice to work. Having said my goodbyes, I was off and soon on the M5, followed by the M42 and eventually the M40 and came off onto the main road which leads home through Buckingham and soon Milton Keynes hove into view and the journey just under two hours.

Cakes and Bakes and Lost Socks

Friday.4.50 p.m. Oh, dear! The confounded washing machine didn't do what it was supposed to do this morning. It got itself into a real spin (sorry for the pun!), didn't heat the water, spin out what water there was in it, and left my load of washing sodden. It didn't dissolve the two gel tabs I put in and then, having put it into the drier, didn't dry the load properly, so I had to put the entire load on my drying rack. Not exactly the best way to start the day.

Thursday 21st October. Sorry folks, I haven't been keeping up with this blog for a week. I've been busy elsewhere, so nothing was reported.

It was chilly, although sunny, when I took Alfie out at around 7.30 a.m. I seem to be waking up later and later. I think it's because the days are getting shorter as we approach winter.  As I write this, at 10.15, it's bright and sunny, but I know it will be chilly if I go out. Very deceptive. 

I  now have a three-13 amp socket adaptor with USB charging points which I ordered on Wednesday from Amazon and which arrived yesterday and is now installed. I had to replace the old one, as it didn't seem to be charging either my iPhone or iPad, so a replacement seemed a good idea. The only problem with Amazon is that there is such a choice of similar items that selecting the best one is very difficult. I know people complain about Amazon, with such things about them having far too much power over bricks and mortar retail outlets, but you certainly don't seem to get the choice as you do with Amazon. I did look on other traditional company's websites, but I couldn't find anything even remotely as good as what I now have. It has certainly helped tidy up the area near my armchair, where the electric sockets are, and the table where the iPad and iPhone are set up to charge.

Sunday. 6.02 a.m. I spent a good deal of yesterday making and baking a cheesecake to take to today's 'bring and share' meal at church today. 

The cheesecake turned out far better than expected. It must have gone done well because very nearly all of it went. It was slightly burnt, due to not being able to get the oven temperature correct. As it was an American recipe, it was in American measurements. They use 'cups' as a measurement, which to me is somewhat vague and also in imperial instead of metric measurements. But, regardless of that, it seems to have been a success.

Monday. 11.00 a.m. Another bright and sunny morning, but that can be deceptive. It may look sunny and warm, but when you get outside it can be chilly especially early morning.

12.30 p.m. I'm currently baking a banana loaf. I had planned to make one earlier in the week and bought bananas in Sainsbury's, but they have to be ripe and soft, so I left them until today when they were beautifully ripe and soft. Mashed up and added to the mixture. The loaf (or is it a cake? No matter. What's in a name anyway?) is now in the oven, baking. It should be done in around 40 minutes.

Wednesday. 3.00 a.m. Here I am, wide awake and busy writing this post. Oh, I forgot to mention the banana loaf/cake. It turned out fine, but I should have left it to bake for another five minutes or so. A bit soggy in the middle (not on the bottom, as they famously say on 'Great British Bake-Off'.) I'm not over-keen on it. Just a bit bland for my way of thinking, and I won't be making any more. I just prefer things to have a bit more of a bite and chew. I'll have to have a look for another recipe, something a bit like a Soreen malt loaf, perhaps.

So, where are the 'Lost Socks' which are in the title of this blog post? I imagine you might have read all the way down to this part and thought to yourself, 'Okay. He's mentioned cakes and bakes, but I feel short-changed as regarding lost socks.' Well, it does occasionally happen, usually when I do my washing. There inevitably get one lone sock that doesn't have a mate. It does usually turn up and gets paired with it's opposite number, usually left in either the washing machine or tumble drier. So, having mentioned this matter, you can definitely feel you haven't been short-changed!

How Time Flies!

 Monday 7.40 a.m. The weeks fly by. Goodness! It's Monday again. Tempus Fugit, as the Romans would say. 

Still and mild as Alfie and I went out at around 7 this morning.

Yesterday, Mike and Margaret collected me to take me to church. I took the fuel can with me and then afterwards we went to Morrisons and I managed to fill the can sufficiently to then decant into my car when I got back to Dexter House. I trust when I go out later this morning, I can top the tank up enough to resolve the fuel issue. I am trusting that the ESSO fuel station on Child's Way will have sufficient fuel, or if not the Shell station in Grafton Street.

12.40 p.m. I have now been able to fuel the car sufficiently with diesel at the ESSO filling station in Childs Way. I think it must be the first time in many months that I have had a completely full tank. Furthermore, I just hope I don't have to go through another similar situation, and I trust I have learnt to keep the car fully fuelled in case of a similar emergency.

Tuesday. 8.45 a.m. Another seemingly mild and undistinguishable sort of autumn's day. I'm going to get my booster covid vaccine later this afternoon. I had one booked, but then, because of the issue of fuelling the car, I had to cancel it.

1.45 p.m. I have just got back from Milton Keynes centre. I was scheduled to have my covid-19 booster vaccination at 11.45. I made the mistake of thinking it was at the Council offices next door to the NatWest branch, but when I asked at the front desk I was told that the Saxon Court was opposite the former Debenhams store (now Next Home and Beauty.) This didn't exactly help my stress levels, because I am rarely later for anything, probably always the first person at anything, theatre performances, doctors appointments or anything else. So it was a good twenty-minute trek back through the shopping centre and inside the building, where I had to sign in, using my registration number from the text message I had received, having booked online yesterday. First I had to wait with dozens of other people in what I would refer to as a holding area, and then we were herded through to the main vaccine area where, again, we had to sit and wait. People coming and going and some going through to the 'Observation Area' once they'd had their vaccine, as you have to wait fifteen minutes, just in case you have any sort of reaction to the vaccine.

Having spent fifteen minutes in the observation area, no reactions such as my hair turning green or developing boils all over my face, so I left and walked into the shopping centre, deciding to buy something to eat from Boots. I am more than a bit surprised that they no longer have manned tills (am I allowed to say that? Personed?? If so, it sounds crazy.) Using the self-service till, I then found I couldn't use my Advantage card to put points on. I don't know why. Just awkward. I also bought some paracetamol in Boots as the nurse said that, if I felt as if I had 'flu, to take it if necessary

So, I returned to my car and drove home, to eat my sandwich and watch the midday news on BBC 1.

Wednesday. 10.40 a.m. I can report that I began to feel exhausted and that the point in my upper arm, where the vaccine was injected, began to hurt somewhat. Nothing serious, but it was uncomfortable to lay on in bed at night. As I write this, the discomfort has more or less worn off. Nothing unpleasant to report.

Thursday. 12.25 p.m. It was foggy when I took Alfie out for his usual walk at around 7.20 this morning. But it had dispersed when we went out at 9.30. It's quite mild, but the heating in this flat is so overpowering I have got all the windows on and even the electric fan. I have ordered a smart room thermometer from Amazon, which should arrive tomorrow. I need to keep a record of exactly how warm it gets. It's crazy to have to keep the windows open to let out the heat! Just sweat pouring down my face. It seems such a total waste of energy. I have mentioned it to Barbara, but it seems nobody is interested, which is annoying and totally idiotic.

There have been a couple of thefts within Dexter House, so someone has put together a petition so that the tenants in this unit can get the Council to install C.C.T.V. to keep a watch on those who enter and leave the premises. I have signed the petition.

Much of A Muchness

Monday. 4.50 a.m. Well, here I am, sitting in my armchair, merrily writing this blog post, but not with any real idea what I'm going to write, but I'm sure if I keep tapping away on the keyboard something will suddenly come to me. The big issue of the week is, you've guessed it, when am I going to manage to get diesel, so I can fuel the car? In that respect, nothing much has changed.

Wednesday. 6.50 a.m. It's dark and dreary. I don't exactly like this time of year, and even more so when the clocks change. Alfie is whittling to go out, but I will wait around ten minutes before we venture forth.

Thursday. 12.35 p.m. There's a great deal of banging and scraping in the next flat to mine. I have a feeling they are upgrading it. There's going to be a lot of renovation of the entire block. There are words written on the walls along the corridor, 'Pebble', 'Romney Wool' etc. These words (no, not one of the residents going bonkers due to lockdown and scrawling graffiti, though at times I feel like doing that.) refer to the carious paint colours which will eventually be gracing the corridor. Even the brown door-frames and window frames are to be given a lick of paint! Good gracious! Whatever next? The scooter sheds are in place, looking similar to bin cupboards or even those portable toilets you see at open-air events such as music festivals. They have rather cleverly designed roofs which slope backwards to prevent snow remaining on them or to make sure rain runs off. So, am I likely to get a revamp in my flat? I have someone to check out my bathroom. Will I be getting a full-length bath? A shower unit? A power shower? A bath with gold taps, diamond encrusted surround? Mosaics on the floor? A sauna? Or is that asking too much? Perhaps a hot tub in the garden? An Olympic-size swimming pool with all mod-cons? Don't hold your breath! One can dream I suppose.

Friday. 10.05 a.m. Yesterday evening we had the first session of The Prayer Course at the Oaktree Centre. I was leading the men's group after we had watched the video that goes with the course. Run in a similar fashion to the Alpha Course, which I have been involved in several times over the years, both as a participant and helper. It was my first experience of leading, and I was pleased how well it went, quite difficult utilizing all the questions within the twenty-minute time slot. My friends Margaret and Mike came to give me a lift in their car as mine is still without fuel, but still sitting on the drive. The fuel can is due to arrive from Amazon, so hopefully the fuel situation will be resolved when I have diesel in the fuel tank. Only time will tell.

The fuel can turned out around lunchtime. I have to say I was somewhat surprised as I was expecting it to turn up on Monday, probably late. It seems a good deal smaller than I was expecting, but it should be sufficiently large enough to manage enough diesel to at least partially fill my car's fuel tank. But I find the closure and the spout, which has to be fitted separately, relatively difficult to closer and attach, but I'm sure with some effort I can deal with these things.

I have a couple of books ordered from Postscript, a catalogue and on-line discount book company. Their latest catalogue came with my November issue of BBC History Magazine, so I had to browse and found two books, one about Stonehenge and the other about Hadrian's Wall, at greatly reduced prices, so it was too tempting, so did the order on their website, and they should arrive, delivered my Hermes. I knew, as soon as I saw the catalogue/leaflet/brochure, that I would find something of interest in it, as I have done before. Parcel expected to arrive sometime tomorrow.

I waited in all day for someone to come a check-out my bathroom to have a refit. They were supposed to come between 8am and 2 pm, but not a single thing, not a dicky bird, not an email, text message or telephone call to explain why they didn't arrive, not an apology or anything. So what happened? Maddening enough to have to wait in on the off-chance someone turns up and particularly when you're not sure exactly when they will arrive, but not turning up at all is infuriating. Not a good way to run a business. No doubt I will get a grovelling apology later in the week, but I somehow doubt it.

Saturday. 8.45 a.m. I didn't wake until around 7.15, so Alfie didn't get his usual outing until gone 7.30. Somewhat surprising to find it foggy as we walked down Strudwick Drive.

Because the car is virtually empty of fuel and not really advisable to drive, I made the decision to walk to Sainsbury's, which is no more than a twenty-minute walk away across Oldbrook Green and through some residential streets. I had a prescription to collect from Lloyd's pharmacy, so it was an excuse to pick up a few essential items, notably some more easy peelers, which I have eaten virtually every day since the pandemic began in March 2020. I've also bought a smart light bulb which is colour-changing. It is operated via an app on my iPad, and it was relatively easy to set up. Great also to be able to dim the bulb and have it at a purer white than the old bulb I had in the fitment which was giving off more of a dim oil lamp sort of glow or possibly candlelight strength, not really very good for reading by.

When I went out mid-morning with Alfie, and as we walked along the path beside Strudwick Drive, I could hear a sound which I thought was a bird. Then I stopped by the tree that hangs over the fence of the community garden at Dexter House and saw a squirrel running up and down the branches. It was that making the sounds. I wasn't even aware that squirrels made a noise, and not that sort of noise. Probably calling to its mate, or at least other squirrels. Most likely a warning sound made to alert other squirrels.

The Postscript books arrived mid-morning. I was surprised how quickly they came, considering the problems there have been with working under lockdown conditions for more than eighteen months

No Fuel . . . Not Even For Ready Money

Monday. 8.40 a.m. I've taken Alfie out at around 7 this morning. It's getting colder as the days go by. I am wearing my blue Regatta jacket. I don't know what's happened to Alfie, it's not raining, but he does his wee on the grass and heads straight back indoors. It's not raining or excessively cold, so this isn't his normal behaviour. He's currently curled up on my bed as I write this. He will be due out shortly for another walk. I hope he doesn't repeat the 'shooting-back-indoors' act, as he needs a decent bit of exercise.

Regarding fuel for my car; I think I will wait a few more days, as the level of the fuel in the car's tank is low enough as it is, and driving around looking for diesel when it's at a critical level just means there is a real risk of it running out entirely. This whole situation is just causing a certain amount of stress.

I had heard that they was fuel at the ESSO station, so I drove round to Childs Way. Unfortunately, there was no diesel, which didn't help my stress levels. I then drove on to the Shell station in Grafton Street and the same there. By this time the light had come on which tells me the fuel level is low, so there's no sense in driving aimlessly around hunting for fuel when there's the danger of running out completely. I just need to  be absolutely sure I'm going to get fuel before I set off which is so difficult at the moment. I just hope this situation gets resolved soon as it is really annoying and stressful.

Thursday.  8.45 a.m. Alfie as taken completely by surprise at around 7 this morning. I was all ready to take him out, had his lead in my hand, suited and booted, as the saying goes, but he was curled up asleep on the sofa. Somewhat wet and windy as we got out onto the grass along Strudwick Drive. It doesn't look as if it's going to clear up and very overcast and murky. Oh well, we are into October now, so it's to be expected.

Saturday. 11.20 a.m. I have abandoned the idea of actually managing to find a petrol station locally which had a supply of diesel, so I could fill up my car. As a result I had to cancel my booster covid vaccine jab which I had booked for yesterday morning. There is no point in aimlessly wandering around Milton Keynes with a virtually empty tank of fuel and risking entirely running out of fuel. It would cause so many unnecessary problems, as you can imagine. I have done an online Sainsbury's shop, which is scheduled to arrive around 8-9 pm tonight. That was easy enough to do as I have so many items which I buy saved in the 'favourites' section, which makes ordering so much quicker and easier. All done in around 20 minutes or so. I have also ordered a fuel can from Amazon, with the intention of using it to be filled up later in the week and the contents put in the car, so at least I can actually drive to a petrol station when fuel stocks are back to some sort of normal after all the panic buying. I just need someone to drive me to such a petrol station to complete this operation. Watch this space for further news of this operation. Hopefully completed within the next week or so.

3.50 p.m. Any idea that I was going to take Alfie out late this afternoon was swept away when I peered out of the window and saw that it was raining. So, I decided to watch the Benedict Cumberbatch 'Hamlet' which is available on Amazon at the moment. I have watched the first half and have paused at the interval and will continue later or probably tomorrow afternoon. It is another 'Hamlet' to add to my ever-growing collection or at least, productions I have seen. The first, although I didn't watch it, but worked as A.S.M., when I was working at Liverpool Playhouse in 1971 (goodness, is it really 50 years ago? That's an amazing thought.) The production which was the first play I worked on when I arrived there that February, or might it have been late January, I really can't remember. I was entailed with operating the counterbalance fly system, which was worked from stage-level. Nobody had thought to train me in the operation of the system. During the technical rehearsal, when all the technical aspects of a play are first rehearsed and worked out, I had to bring in a curtain during a scene change in a blackout. Unfortunately, I wasn't sure when to stop the curtain and when the lights came up, the aforementioned curtain was laying in a crumpled heap on the stage. You can imagine how embarrassing it was, but I suppose, looking back, that's a good way to learn how to do something. The rope which operated the counterweight system went down into the basement of the theatre, below the stage, but the pulleys were in a kind of gulley which filled with water and as a result the ropes shrunk considerably because of being wet and this made the rope lines very taut, although it wasn't that which made the curtain lay crumpled on the stage floor.

Other versions include the National Theatre production with Rory Kinnear and Patrick Malahyde in it which I saw at the Milton Keynes Theatre with Carol before Christmas a few years ago, the Kenneth Branagh film which utilizes the uncut text and runs around four hours, and a version which I saw at the Derngate Centre in Northampton, again, in uncut text, directed by Peter Hall. It ran for around four hours, and it was two hours before there was an interval. Stephen Dellane and Donald Sinden in the duel roles of Polonius and Gravedigger. It was a matinee put on especially for schools, and you can imagine the reaction when, at one point, the mad Hamlet runs across the stage stark naked! The school girls in the audience shrieked and the whole auditorium erupted  into convulsions of laughter and surprise, which I suppose they would have be expected to behave.and this held up the action for several minutes. Gina Bellman was Ophelia and I have a connection with this actor in that she was in 'Blackeyes,' a Dennis Potter television drama series in which I was a stand-in/double for another of the actors, Nigel Planer.

As I've mentioned, I ordered groceries from Sainsbury's website. My delivery was scheduled between 8 and 9 p.m., but I got a telephone call from Sainsbury's to inform me that, due to a problem with the vehicle, the delivery would be around an hour later than scheduled. I imagine that it might possibly due to the fuel shortage due to panic buying. The delivery came around 9.30 p.m.  Not actually a problem, but it meant staying awake to receive the order. There were a lot of substitutes for items I had ordered, but that is no doubt due to the shortage of H.G.V. drivers. But that wasn't much of a problem.

A Little Wet and Windy

 Monday. 7.45 a.m. Another week begins. It's relatively bright and sunny outside, but when I took Alfie out around an hour ago it was quite chilly. I think perhaps it's time to put my shorts away for the winter months. A pity, as I've got used to wearing them. I may have to find some cargoes made of similar material. They're Weird Fish brand shorts with plenty of pockets, which are useful, particularly when walking Alfie, as I can put treats in one pocket, keys in another, and doggy bags in another. 

Wednesday. 4.20 p.m. I've had two letters in the post. One from Milton Keynes Council about having my bathroom refitted. Is it possible? Might I have a proper full-sized bath that I can actually lay down in and have a decent soak? Most people are at least 5-6 tall, and most, if not all normal people would expect to be able to lie full length in it when they have a bath.)Anyway, having contacted the number on the letter, I have someone coming to survey the aforementioned bathroom to see what can or cannot be done. I will report on here after I have had the visit. I hold my breath in anticipation (metaphorically that is.) The other letter was from Lloyd's Pharmacy offering me a flu jab. Booked through their website and it's going to be on 28th October at their branch in Sainsbury's.

Thursday. I've made a batch of scones to take to the quiz night on Friday evening. They aren't bad. Taste good, texture good and I'm sure Marry Berry would be pleased with the result, but to me, they don't look very good. I will have another try tomorrow and hope the second batch turns out better.

Saturday. 8.10 a.m. I've been somewhat lax this week, in the fact that I haven't been writing blog posts for the past couple of days. Very lazy, but, I'll be honest not a great deal to report. 

I've made another batch of scones, and this time I've used my food processor and they've come out looking considerably better than yesterday's batch. The food processor certainly speeds the process considerably. 

I went into Sainsbury's and had intended to purchase ink cartridges for my Canon printer/scanner. I hunter along the shelves in the stationary section of the store and could see none, so I asked a member of staff and was told that they had been removed from the store because they are stolen by people who then sell them online, no doubt on sites such as eBay. Crazy that things have come to this. I have since managed to order them from Viking, the online stationers. They should arrive, hopefully, in the next couple of days.

We had a quiz night at the Oaktree Centre this evening. Raising funds for the second phase of the building.  A good evening was had by all and it was great to be around people once more and not virtually.

Sunday. This afternoon I went out with the intention of topping up the car with diesel because it is running low. There is no ulterior motive other than my usual topping it up. I'm not driving a great deal at the moment, but the fuel gauge is showing there's not much in the tank. I drove around to the ESSO station on Childs Way to discover a huge queue of vehicles stretching from the roundabout on Marlborough Street. I wasn't going to join the queue and I could say a similar queue on the opposite carriageway at the BP station. I then drove to the Shell station on Grafton Street and, seeing there was no queue I drove in, but most of the pumps were blocked off, signaling they had no fuel. So, I drove away and have decided perhaps I will wait until later in the week to have another go at getting a tank full.

Tuesday. 10.30 a.m. Alfie had a bit of an accident last night, requiring a complete change of bedding and floor-mopping. He spent the night in the lounge as I didn't want a repetition of things. He was quiet until the early hours of the morning and then began barking. I had to do a further clear-up, but as I write this he seems fine. I'll have to monitor things and see what transpires. He seems to be his usual perky self and we've just got back from another walk around the park. It's bright and sunny this morning.

I have been attempting to fuel the car. I know it's not urgent as the car can go for quite a long period before it needs fuel. The gauge is looking low, so it will need diesel sometime soon. I went around Marlborough Street and to the Esso station along Child's Way, but they had nothing, and then to the BP station on the opposite carriageway, but, again, nothing. I'll have to leave it until the end of the week and give it another attempt. Then I drove on to Sainsbury's. A great many empty spaces on the shelves but I managed to get the few items I needed.

Troublesome Technology

Tuesday. 7.45 a.m. A bit wet when I  went out earlier with Alfie. Not exactly pouring rain, but a bit what I'd call drizzly. Thin rain might be a better description.

I forgot to mention that the fire alarm when off in Dexter House yesterday morning. The system has been tested by a technician, who presumably knew what he was doing, but it went on for around an hour. At first, I wasn't sure if it was the weekly test, which usually lasts around a minute. Then, when it continued on, whether it was more serious. It was no good because it gives me a headache and Alfie can't cope with it either, I imagine it hurts his ears as dogs can hear sounds at a different, lower, frequency to humans. So I put on my trousers (well, not such a good idea to go without, don't you think?) and gathered Alfie up, and we proceeded to leave the flat and go out into the street. I could still hear the alarm and thought it best to walk around the block, giving Alfie a surprise outing in the process.

Wednesday. 10.20 a.m. The other morning, there was a sound rather like a baby crying. It was around 3 o'clock in the morning. It was very close, whatever it was, more likely a cat, sitting on the ledge outside my bedroom window. As the window as open, that might have accounted for the rather loud volume. I was expecting Alfie to react, but he seemed to remain asleep beside me on the bed.

Thursday. 7.55 p.m. I have never mentioned the online surveys I do, for which I receive both cash and vouchers which can be redeemed for high street goods and services. Not only am I doing the online surveys, but I have more recently done some focus groups. Most are done via Zoom, the computer video platform, basically, because it's easier than having to set up face-to-face groups and even more so with the current pandemic restrictions. I won't mention who or what is said in any of the surveys, as I'm not supposed to. Privacy and confidentiality and all that. I did one a couple of Mondays ago, and the latest one was yesterday evening. You have to make sure you're all set up well in advance of the set time, which I did. On this occasion, I used my iPad and had it set up on the gooseneck support which I got from Amazon. The idea with this is that it brings the iPad up closer to my face and is easier to use than having the MacBook at table height. I also had my iPhone set up on another gooseneck support, for emergencies. I should describe a gooseneck as being a device that is made of strong spring-like material that keeps its position once adjusted. It holds your tablet or phone in a firm, spring-loaded grip, and you can move it around to get the best position. The focus group began, but after around thirty minutes, the iPad began to die on me. I had thought it was fully charged, but it just died completely. I then decided to use the iPhone, and then I couldn't get the sound to stop on the iPad (don't ask me why or how. It really illudes me completely.) It began to cause sound problems, which I couldn't fix until I put the iPad in the kitchen. Then I had to continue on the iPhone, but eventually decided to use my MacBook to finish the session It was all very annoying and embarrassing, but I was determined to continue because I knew that otherwise I wouldn't be paid the incentive for the focus group. Then I couldn't get the sound to work and had to continue with the discussion using the 'chat' facility on Zoom, which actually worked quite well. I could write relatively fast in answer to some questions and make comments, easier than waiting for people to finish speaking. Considering I had all my devices fully charged and it was just as well I had an alternative to the iPhone and iPad. Just typical that they should fail me when I really needed them to work properly.

A Little Win

 Monday. 8.55 a.m. I haven't done the National Lottery in a long time. I can't even remember when I last played it. When I lived in Bedford, I used to buy a ticket in W.H.Smith in Midland Road. You had to buy a paper ticket and you held on to it and didn't lose it (some people did and then their numbers came up and then panicked when they couldn't find it to prove they had the all-important winning numbers. How crazy! To loose out on a life-changing amount of cash!) I have downloaded the app and have played once. It is so much easier as you don't even have to leave your home to play. You have to sign up and create an account and use your bank card (credit or debit card.) and then put money on your account (up to a limit of £500, although I don't put much more than £5 on mine.) As the price of a ticket has increased from £1 to £2 and I think some games are probably £1.50.) I decided this week to play. I had tickets for the main game, Lotto, and another for the Set For Life game, where you can win something like £10,000 per month for 30 years or something. I forgot all about it until Sunday morning when I looked at my emails as normal and there was an email from the National Lottery to inform me that I had won! I was excited as you can imagine and it took a while to sign in to the app. I had won £5! But My earnings were reapplied to my account and I got a free 'Lucky Dip' draw for later in the week. I remember the very first draw, I think, back in around 1994. I won £10! I won several of these £10s, but nothing higher. I think it would be better to let people win smaller amounts rather than millions of pounds going to one winner, just a few thousands, particularly when there's a roll-over or even several roll-overs.

Oh well, there's always next time, of course. . . 

Thursday. 10.15 a.m. I haven't posted anything for the past couple of days, as you will have noticed. Just discussing the same old seemed a bit pointless, so I didn't, but here I am again.

It's been really warm the last couple of days. I packed away my shorts and though to myself that autumn was upon us, but, lo and behold! It's been bright and sunny, so got them out again. It was actually too hot for me at one point. I took Alfie out, and we didn't get far, well, not much further than the start of the circuit of Oldbrook Green, when I developed a really horrible headache, so we returned home. I have worn my sun hat, but it didn't make a lot of difference.

My FitBit isn't functioning properly. I had it working successfully, but it has decided not to work correctly. The time is totally out. It is supposed to communicate with my iPhone via Bluetooth. It decides it will connect but then nothing more happens. It's getting to the point that I can't be bothered with it. I keep attempting to sort it out, but it might just as well be at the bottom of a drawer if it can't behave itself.

3.25 p.m. I've been out with Alfie. It was dark overhead and I think I felt a few drops of rain. If it wasn't, then I really ought to know what it was. 

My writing is still at the planning stage. I think I now have the scaffolding and can hopefully start the actual writing. That's the bit I enjoy most, but, as I've said in earlier blog posts, I can't begin the process of writing until I have a sort of roadmap in place. A bit like going on a car journey without knowing where you're going. Making sure you have a route planned out. But I still don't know how it will end.

Monday. 8.50 a.m. Goodness gracious! It's Monday again! What is going on? We seem to be spinning out of control. As Hamlet says, 'the time is out of joint.' Very much so. I can't believe we're halfway through September. We'll soon be seeing the usual junk in the shops, ready for Christmas. But we have to endure the total rubbish which is sold for Hallow'een first. The things that shops attempt to flog us just to make a quick buck is appalling. 

I had another attempt at the National Lottery. And hey presto! I draw another couple of numbers which have already been entered for a lucky dip. I just hope that eventually I might win more than a few quid, not a lot, a few hundred would be nice. Just top up my bank account somewhat. The thing is, with the app it's far easier to have a go at the Lottery rather than going out to buy a paper ticket. You don't even have to leave your home.

All Well and Good

Wednesday. 2.50 p.m. I now have a new toilet seat! The excitement is far too much. For far too long I have had to endure a loose toilet seat and the prospect of falling off the aforementioned toilet seat because it wasn't fixed properly.  Don't laugh. Oh go on, have a titterHow could this happen? I don't know, but I'm responsible for the seat and not the bowl! Don't laugh, but that was what I was told when I inquired about having it repaired and/or replaced. Ivor, who is a genius at this type of thing, came from church to investigate the matter. I went to Homebase to purchase a replacement and he came to fix it for me. Job done! Does it mean that when (or if) I leave, I can take the toilet seat with me? Would seem like it.

The battery-operated fob I have which I use to open and close the front door here at Dexter House wasn't working and we came to the conclusion that the battery needed replacing. I went to Sainsbury's this morning and I purchased new batteries, Duracell, two in a pack for £5. The screws which keep the fob together and need removing before the installation of new batteries can be done, requires a very small screwdriver to undo the screws, but that is now done, and I can enter and leave the premises without resorting to attacking the door with a hatchet (I know, I exaggerate.)

Thursday. 7.45 a.m. The week is speeding by. September now. How did we get here so quickly? It seems with so many confounded lockdowns we've been in a sort of ground hog day, each day being more or less the same as the last one. Still, nothing of great importance to report on here.

Friday. 7.00 a.m. So, the big news this morning is that Abba, the Swedish supergroup from the 1970s is reforming and writing new songs. You have to be a huge fan to get excited about this news. I quite like their music but I'm definitely a superfan. They seem to be as popular as ever, even though they broke up in 1982. Shows and films such as Mamma Mia, which are based around their music and songs, are probably responsible for this interest, so you can see why a reforming of the group would be on the cards.

On a somewhat different subject. As they often do on BBC Breakfast, a 'live' session was shown from a Taekwondo centre in Hyton, near Liverpool. The reporter asked one of the members why they liked doing taekwondo, she replied that she 'liked kicking people!' I think the other title for this sport is kick-boxing. 

Another trip to Sainsbury's this morning. I didn't have my regular mug of tea because the milk was on the point of turning. Bits in the mug which meant it wasn't good to go. I was somewhat surprised to find quite a few shelves empty in Sainsbury's.  I think it has something to do with there being a shortage of HGV drivers to drive the lorries which deliver to the store, amongst other things.

Saturday. 12.15 p.m. Quite a mild day. I was somewhat surprised by the sunshine when I took Alfie out mid-morning. As I write this, it's become more overcast. 

Sunday. 4.55 p.m. It's really quite sunny and warm this afternoon. I'm not sure that it's what they call an Indian Summer, but I have no idea why it would be called that and whether it's entirely politically correct to use that term.

Monday. 8.50 p.m. Another bright and sunny morning and the schools have gone back, or so I suppose, unless someone has decided that they need to keep their children away because of some virus thing which is supposed to be sweeping the nation. Come on folks, don't ruin your children's education because of this thing. They need to be in school. More damage due to mental health issues than caused by the virus thingy.

August Bank Holiday

 I  often wonder, do banks really DESERVE to have a holiday? Considering the mess many of them got into in 2008 (I may have got the year wrong.) when the government bailed them out with taxpayer's money, THEY should be paying US!

Sunday. 11.35 a.m. We haven't had a proper church service for a few weeks now, because it's August, and the thinking is that, as most people will be away on holiday, there's really no sense in full service. Last week we had a community picnic and this week we have the famous church barbecue. I have made up a salad and done a few baked potatoes, which I put in the oven at around 6.30 this morning. I had gone to Sainsbury's yesterday after another of our prayer triplet sessions at a friend's home in Conniburrow. I then realized, when I got home, that I should have got something to drink to take with me. I drove to the Tesco Express store in Oldbrook Boulevard. Because of social distancing, you are supposed to follow a one-way system around the store. I picked up what I wanted and then made my way to the check-out, going to a manned till because there was someone using the self-service tills. I arrived at the back of a reasonably long queue and for some reason wasn't sure who was queuing. Then a young man let rip at me, accusing me of pushing in. Untrue, but he was adamant that I had. He continued to rant at me, using bad language which I won't repeat here. I thought he was going to end up hitting me, so I stood back. Then he hurled a packet of sweets or chocolates at me and then stormed off out of the store, continuing to rant and rave. It left me feeling somewhat shocked, and I think the same could be said of the rest of the customers who were queuing ahead of me. I have a feeling he was probably from a residential home nearby, probably with a severe type of learning disability or another mental health issue. Which made me wonder why he was allowed out on his own.

Monday. 11.00 a.m. So, Bank Holiday Monday! It's not exactly a baking hot day. Drizzling when I took out Alfie earlier. I'm not doing a lot, just pottering around. His Nibs is asleep on the sofa as I write this.

I had another odd dream last night. I know, most dreams are odd. I have mentioned before in these blog posts my time working in stage management and on one particular play I was A.S.M. on at Greenwich Theatre some fifty years ago, 'A Voyage Round My Father', written by John Mortimer. In the dream, I had a visit from his wife (not sure of her name.) She wanted to give me a copy of a book John Mortimer had written (I have no idea of its title.) and I told her about working on the play. She signed the book, and that was all. Strange, particularly as I haven't been thinking of that play or anything to do with it recently. Mortimer also wrote the Rumpole stories and television series, which I love.

Tuesday. 4.10 p.m. I am currently working on a sort of subplot for my writing project. I wouldn't call it a fantasy as such, but as my main character is a writer it's a sort of spoof of a genre of writing very much inspired by 'The 39 Steps' by John Buchan. I have always loved the Hitchcock version, which veers off course from the original story to a large extent. I watched the BBC television version which seems to stick to the original to some extent then uses some of Hitchcock's ideas and then changes the ending, what exactly are the titular 39 Steps? It seems as if each version has different suggestions, but it's one of those films and stories which is the blueprint of many later espionage thrillers.

Life's Ups and Downs

We're slowly drifting towards autumn. The days are drawing in. It's getting light in the morning later and later. By the time we reach September, we'll be seeing the first signs of Christmas in the shops. 

Tuesday. 6.25 a.m. Really, honestly, not a great deal to report. Except for the 'Mystery of the Blocked Drains.' It sounds like something that Sherlock Holmes or some other private detective would be bought in to solve. In all the time I've been living at Dexter House I've had an awful pong in my bathroom, presumably coming from the sink or bath plug hole. It's a smell similar to over-boiled cabbage (yes, I know, not nice.) Having done a lot of schools touring with puppets over the years, arriving in school halls to set up shows, usually places which are also used for school dinners. You used to get the lingering smell of boiled cabbage, apart from anything else. The pong from the drains is similar and there's no explanation. It would appear that other tenants here have complained of not only the smell but the fact that water doesn't drain away properly after you've had a bath or used the sink. The contractors who maintain this building are supposed to be dealing with it, apparently going to put a camera down the drains to try and find the blockage. Well, all I can say is, good luck to them! Not a job I would have anything to do with.

I've managed to use the steam mop to clean the remainder of the lounge floor. It's a bit of a game of Tetris having to move the furniture around. You move one thing and then another and do such-and-such to get to behind the television. I was shocked by the amount of dust and fluff! It makes me wonder where on earth it comes from. But it's now done, and I'm pleased with the results. 

Wednesday. 7.20 a.m. I woke up around 6.15, which is the latest I've woken in ages. But Alfie was still sleeping and didn't seem to realize we hadn't been out. I have the feeling it had rained in the night as there were signs of a good wetting on the path and grass.

The kitchen is clean and tidy from last night's meal! I want it clear as I'm going to Sainsbury's later this morning and it's easier when I get back and unload my shopping. All wiped down and clear.

Thursday. 6.35 a.m. The week seems to fly by. Not a great deal to report at the moment.

Friday. 6.45 a.m. I woke up later than normal. But what is 'normal'? The last eighteen months or so have been anything but normal. Being stuck in some sort of limbo isn't anything normal.

The work on the infamous scooter sheds has ground to a halt. There is a concrete 'pad' outside in the corner outside where my stairs come down from my flat. The sheds aren't going to be built of brick as I was expecting, but will be wooden structures. (This is sounding a bit like 'The Three Little Pigs' story. First house, straw, second house- Sticks, third house- Bricks. The whole thing is a bit of a fairy story.) Not sure where things stand regarding the 'big stink' from the drains.

Saturday. 5.50 a.m. My MacBook decided it wouldn't open up yesterday morning. Try as I might, I couldn't get the thing to respond. I imagined there was something seriously wrong with it. There was a full charge on it's battery, but the screen remained blank. My thinking was, that's it, it's finished, it's dead. Well, it's served me well, it's almost seven years old, it will probably need replacing. Fortunately I did manage to get the MacBook to function, which was something of a relief. I know it is going to have to be replaced eventually, because technology such as laptops do have a limited life. 

Step On It!

Tuesday. 2.10 p.m. I've managed to exceed my step count this afternoon! Well over 10,000 steps, which equates to a little over five miles. I am somewhat pleased, as you might imagine. I just need to keep this up. The Fitbit doesn't just count your steps, it gives your heart rate, BMI, and far more. You can log your liquid intake as well as your food and weight. It has taken long enough to get the thing set up and running, but now it's set properly I can keep on keeping an eye on my steps and so on. It's a good motivational tool in that respect. That's no less than six circuits of Oldbrook Green!

Wednesday. 6.25 a.m. Slight rain when took Alfie out just before 6 this morning. Very dark clouds looming over Milton Keynes, which suggests heavy rain later today.

Television seems keen on copying successful formats, the basic premise/idea for programmes. It was cookery shows at one time (and probably still is.) They get one successful show and it has to spawn a slew of similar shows. Antiques have been the staple of daytime television, with shows such as Bargain Hunt, Flog it, Antiques Roadshow, which is probably the great-granddaddy of them all. Cookery shows include Masterchef and Can't Cook, Won't Cook; Ready, Steady Cook. Now they're going mad on recycling and make-over shows. It began with Money For Nothing, The Repair Shop and continued with the likes of Saved and Remade on BBC1 and Find It, Fix It, Flog It! on Channel 4. Each of them seems to play on the emotional element, particularly The Repair Shop, when people take items which have a connection with someone in their lives, usually deceased, a friend or family member, and want the item repaired and restored as usually, that item is in a poor condition. At the end of the show, when the owner of the item returns to collect it, the producers seem to delight in seeing the emotions revealed by the owner when they see the restored and repaired item. In some ways, it is rather overdone, somewhat contrived. I think it is  More than a bit nauseating. It seems that television companies are more than happy to churn out the same thing relentlessly. Too many crime series, with grumpy detectives at the centre of things, staring endlessly at the sea, having relationship problems, and loving to drive around in Jaguars or other up-market vehicles, with classical music or opera blaring out of the radio or in-car CD player. Just another cliche. Anyway, all it's about is easy television. A great deal of it is just lazy because it's not going to demand much attention on behalf of the producers or the audience.

Thursday. 6.30 a.m. Alfie seems very reluctant to do a walk around Oldbrook Green this morning. I can't think why. Usually, he's more than happy to go for his regular walk, but for the past couple of days, he just insists on taking me back to the flat. As I write this, he's curled up on the sofa. Not his usual mode, insisting on being taken out and walking endlessly. I am attempting to maintain my step count, but with a small Yorkshire terrier who is very strong, just pulling in the direction of home, not chance is doing anywhere near ten-thousand steps!

Friday. 6.45 a.m. I woke up a good deal later than normal. The mornings are getting darker and darker as we move towards autumn. Alfie was more enthusiastic about doing the circuit of Oldbrook Green, which suits me as I am intent on doing the 10,000 steps.

Saturday. 10.35 a.m. I woke a lot later than normal. I think it's because the days are beginning to draw in. It was darker for longer, so I didn't take out Munchkin until around 6.45. I just didn't see the point of going out if we couldn't see properly. As we walked along the path towards Oldbrook Green, I saw a large cat cross the road. I think it came out of the entrance to The Cricketers carpark. Perhaps it had been in for a swift 'alf. Who knows? I saw it gradually approaching our side of the road and then cross the path towards Fishermead. Alfie, fortunately, didn't see it. Just as well, otherwise, he would have been very noisy!

We went out again at around 9.15. I am afraid I have to report seeing two girls walking several dogs across the Green and one dog did its business, but they never picked it up. This brazen behaviour is really not acceptable. I always have several doggy bags in my pocket, so I could have given them one if I had been nearer. I blame the Council for not having doggy bags in the space provided by the doggy bins. It seems a false economy to not have them, expecting people who have dogs to have them (most do, but it would appear that a lot don't.) There is supposed to be a £100 spot fine if you don't clear up after your dog, but what is the point of the fine if nobody polices the policy? People are getting away with this sort of thing without being fined.

Sunday. 8.00 a.m. There was torrential rain yesterday evening as I ate my meal. I had to go and look out of the kitchen window to see as it was quite noisy. It didn't last long, but Alfie and I went out for a final walk around Oldbrook Green because I was short of the number of steps and was determined to reach my target of ten thousand. It has rained in the night, but as I write this, it's reasonably bright and sunny.

Good and Bad Characters

 How is it that so many good characters, in literature and films, and probably in other works such as stage plays, are so dull? Just think of the princesses in Disney animation, such as Snowhite, just so flat and two- dimensional. On the other hand, the villains are generally far more interesting and complex and make more interesting characters, which, although we know they are evil in most cases, we tend to root for them and cheer for them usually. Think of Abanazer, the wicked character in the 'Aladdin' pantomime, or the Ugly Sisters in 'Cinderella,' they are more fleshed out than the flat and rather dull central characters of Aladdin and Cinderella. In Dickens, so many of his central characters seem rather uninteresting. Think of Oliver in Oliver Twist. He's at the centre of the story, things happen to him, but he never initiates anything. Similarly, with David Copperfield and Nicholas Nickleby. These characters don't appear to have any effect on what happens to them, it's the characters who revolve around them who do all the work of moving things forward. In that respect, they are somewhat helpless. It appears that they can't change the course of their lives or their story journey. At the heart of a good story, there should be a journey in the sense that the lead character changes during the course of the story, so by the conclusion they have learned something and in that respect, changed.

In any form of storytelling, you have to have some sort of conflict, otherwise, your story can become flat and routine. The main protagonist needs a character to work against, so a good villain should be the character who creates this conflict. It's rather like sandpaper. It takes off the rough edges, shapes the protagonist. If he/she can overcome their problems, then they will grow and by the end of their journey through their story, they will have learned something.

Some cliches are used whenever the author wants to make sure the reader 'gets' whether a character is either good or bad. Used a great deal in television drama. Think EastEnders or Coronation street or one hundred and one Hollywood blockbusters. Colour is often used, as regards clothing. Dark is usually associated with 'bad.' (For years in television westerns from what I remember from being a child.) The villain almost always wore a dark shirt or jacket. The goodies usually wore light-colored clothing.  Think Dark Vader in the Star Wars films. He's black. You can't see his face (generally, if you can't see a character's face, either because he wears a mask (as Vader does.) or dark glasses, usually highly reflective, he's the bad guy. 

Disney has recently been raiding their back catalogue to reinvent some of their villains, such as Maleficent, who is the bad fairy who didn't get invited to the princesses Christening in the 1950's animation, 'Sleeping Beauty' and given her own film, starring Angelina Jolie. More recently they have given Cruella De Vil, the villain who wants to make dalmation puppies' coats into her own fashion accessory, namely, her own coat, in the 1961 animation classic '101 Dalmations' and the 1996 live-action remake. It's as if they are trying to give these characters a reason to be the way they are. Backstories or 'origins' stories. Disney is busily remaking all their classic animation movies, 'Beauty and The Beast,' 'Cinderella', 'Jungle Book', 'The Lion King' etc etc. Really for no better reason than they have the technology to make them using such things as three-dimensional computer animation. Not actually an improvement on the original and, frankly, a lazy way to create films.

Some, what I would call 'classic' villains in some of the classic fiction have been weakened by being portrayed as comic in such shows as 'Oliver!' and 'Les Miserables.' Fagin, the pickpocket gang leader, is made out to be a comic character in the musical when he's anything but comic in the novel on which it is based. He's far more evil and contemptible than the portrayal in the stage and film adaptation. The same can be said of Thenardier and his wife in 'Les Miserables' where they are sort of knock-about characters, but with a villainous streak. Perhaps this watering down of these characters is to make these shows more palatable for family audiences.

Why do so many villains in fiction have sidekicks who are often portrayed as bumbling idiots? The two henchmen of Cruella De Vil in the original novel by Dodie Smith and then the Disney versions of 'The 101 Dalmations' are shown to be totally inept. In some ways this is just for comic effect, but why on earth would someone employ such totally incompetent?

So, to wind up. I think I have managed to give fairly good summation of why and how so many dull characters, usually the central protagonists in some stories are so dull, compared to the more rounded and complete characters of the villains. We, as the audience, tend to want to root for those characters rather than the limp central characters.