Sunday. 1.10 p.m. I thought the title of this blog post seemed really appropriate with how things are going, regarding the pandemic and with the easing of some of the lockdown restrictions. It is the title of a pop song by D:Ream, not that I'm particularly interested in pop songs, but it was the theme music used by the Labour Party at the time of the 1997 General Election which swept Tony Blair to power with a landslide victory. Not sure all the hullabaloo and fanfare which greeted the New Labour victory was exactly carried through into however many successive governments they formed after 1997 or that their promises got fulfilled, but it was definitely a memorable song. How many politicians promise so much in their election manifestoes and then keep them? I think you could write a complete essay on that subject, but I won't on here.
More people are now allowed in church! Full to capacity, but still socially distanced, but now we have tea and coffee, served in the courtyard area outside. A few months ago we had the Freedom In Christ course on Zoom. I met one of the guys who was one of the participants for the first time this morning and it was odd seeing him 'in the flesh.' We have got so used to only meeting virtually, via computer screens. Although it is amazing to be able to communicate using digital technology, it is certainly not the same as meeting someone face-to-face.
I have been watching a production of 'The Importance of Being Earnest on Broadway HD. It is a recording of a production that was in the West End a couple of years ago and had Sophie Thompson playing Lady Bracknell. I know the play very well, almost as well as I know 'Hamlet,' and seen it in various productions, live on stage, television productions and both the 1952 film version with Edith Evans in her iconic role as Lady Bracknell and probably the one version others have to use as a blueprint, particularly in her infamous intonation of the line 'A hand . . .bag???' Also, the more recent film version with Judi Dench as Lady Bracknell and Colin Firth as Jack and Rupert Everett as Algenon. It was partially filmed at West Wycombe Park, a National Trust property which I have visited with Carol in the past. It is used as a location in several films and television series but is probably used far too much, but supposedly it's convenient to London and nearby film studios such as Pinewood and Shepperton. Why does Lady Bracknell have to be played by an actor who is ancient? What age is she supposed to be? If her daughter Gwendolen is around 18-20, it would mean she must have been around 25ish when she was born, so she would be around 45-50, but generally, she is played by someone around 75-80ish, which doesn't really compute. It's probably down to casting an actor who is suitable to play such a central character, which might explain why she is generally made out to be older rather than younger. Just my thoughts on the matter of her casting.
Monday 6.55 a.m. At least it's a good deal lighter each morning earlier and earlier, so my outings with Alfie are likewise earlier than, say, a month ago. Another mild and relatively fine morning.
Hooray and yah yaddley-hoo! I (sounds like something the character played by Hugh Laurie would play in 'Blackadder. Probably Prinny in the one set at the time of the Regency.) know that's nonsense, but something has to be said to announce the fact that more places are being opened up and free of restrictions. It's a bit like 'The Sleeping Beauty, where the castle and it's inhabitants have been put to sleep for one-hundred years by the wicked fairy who wasn't invited to Princess Arora's christening, so she puts a spell on the child and the entire castle, so they fall asleep for one-hundred years if the girl pricks her finger. Then, exactly one-hundred years later, the dashing prince rides in on his snow-white charger, battles through the brambles and thorns which have grown up around the castle and inside he eventually discovers the princess, asleep in the top-most turret of the tallest tower and kisses her and as she awakens, the entire castle plus inhabitants wake up . . . The whole place having been put in lockdown.
Just as I was going to settle down and do some writing (which, by the way, is going exceedingly well.) some delightful soul sees fit to start hammering in one of the flats below me. Probably hacking tiles off a wall to refit the kitchen, but not sure what it is. But just so annoying. Unless, of course, they have a very bad infestation of deathwatch beetle. But I don't think so, but you never know. Someone just trying to get attention? Probably not. Still infuriatingly annoying whatever it is.
Later. 12.35 p.m. I had to go to Central Milton Keynes Medical Centre to have blood taken. I got to the carpark far too early so had to wait. You are told to arrive no more than five minutes before your appointment, but I went in a bit earlier. Always a chance I will be seen earlier so it's worth it. You have to speak into an intercom on the door, give your name and whether you've had any coronavirus-related symptoms. Well, I haven't, so I went inside and sat down, having applied sanitizer to my hands from a bottle near the door. I was soon called in by the digital display board. I have to lay down on the bed thingy (what is the correct name? Can't think at the moment.) The nurse who was going to take the blood sample had real problems finding a vein in my right arm. I just happen to have narrow veins which is one reason why there is a problem with me when they come to take blood. Then she decided it was probably an idea to take it from my left arm, so I had to turn right around so she could get at my left arm. Eventually, she was able to find a vein and the sample was taken, but she said earlier that perhaps I would have to book another appointment, which I really didn't want. One reason for it being so difficult might be that I was somewhat dehydrated. Apparently, you get dehydrated overnight and as a result, I should drink more. I did actually have a drink before I left home, but I should perhaps drink considerably more than I do.
Incidentally, just as a coda. Today is the 15th anniversary of my first heart attack. Not that I really want to remember it, but still worth mentioning.
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