It Was Christmas Day In The Workhouse . . .

The title for this post may seem a bit over-the-top, but, you have to admit, it's quite appropriate. For the time of year. But this isn't a workhouse. They went out sometime in the middle of the 19th century. Oh well, I did try. It mentions Christmas, but that's all.

Thursday. 10.25 a.m. I'm not doing anything in particular today. I've no need to go shopping, as I went to Aldi yesterday. I'm trying to wean myself off Sainsbury's because it seems ridiculous to spend more than I need to when Aldi (and, for that matter, Lidl.) is so much cheaper. Also, thinking about it, you get more for less in some cases. You need to have a £1 coin to use their trolleys at Aldi, which I had, and I made sure I rescued the coin from the trolley when I'd finished. You have fewer choices than in any of the big four supermarkets, making it faster to shop, not having to decide on, for example, what brand of instant coffee or breakfast cereal to choose. It's so much quieter, which was the first thing I noticed when I went through the door. No distractions, no loud music blaring out. You get through their checkouts so much quicker, because all of their products have large barcodes which the operators can scan really quickly and if you set up your shopping bags and put them in your empty trolley you can put your groceries straight into the bags and then pay and be out loading them into your car really quickly. It's a wonder none of the big main supermarkets doesn't use this system. If you compare, for example, Sainsbury's products, they have very small barcodes, which take some time to find, which slows down checkout.

Friday. 7.45 a.m. It's a bit wet and rainy this morning. I took Alfie out a bit earlier than usual, which meant I had to take my small torch to see what we were doing. I went out earlier because I have to get my washing in the machine before 8 o'clock.

9.20 a.m. My washing is now in the dryer. The rain is falling heavily. No sign of it stopping, and it's dull and overcast. In other words, a typical December day.

The sun did come out later in the day. Whoopee!

Christmas Eve. Saturday. 7.20 a.m. My goodness! My Friday blog post must have been the shortest on record! Well, the fact is, I did very little, so not much to write about.

9.55 a.m. I've been to Sainsbury's to get some last-minute bits and pieces. (I know, I said I wasn't going to go shopping there, but there were items I knew they'd have.) I thought it was a good idea to go early because it was likely to get crowded, with people following my example and shopping earlier rather than later. It wasn't particularly busy.

11.00 a.m. I bought Alfie some Christmassy treats. They look like bacon, but when I gave him one, he sniffed it, played with it for a while, and then tasted it. It took him a minute or two, and then he ate it. He's such a fussy little dog! I think it's because it was new. I give him the same food and the same treats, but try anything different and he doesn't appreciate it. A year ago I bought him mince pie-shaped treats, but he just wouldn't eat them. I have a feeling they are on the bookshelf, uneaten. I know, before you tell me off, I should never give a dog mince-pies, because the sultanas and mixed fruit they contain can be toxic and even lethal to them because they can't digest them.

I've just returned from taking out Alfie, and we walked around Oldbrook Green. The first time in a while, due to the weather. The sun was shining, although rather weakly.

It's All Action? . . .More like Inaction!

Monday.  2.25 p.m.  Action, did I hear you say? This is Dexter House we're talking about. I have mentioned the matter of the scooter stores, which were built outside against one outside wall of this building. They were constructed because the fire officer did an inspection of Dexter house some while ago, (probably before I moved in more than three years ago), and said that the electric mobility scooters which some tenants use, can't be stored in any of the common areas, mostly in the corridors. They have to be parked there at present, so they can be charged overnight. A great deal of money has been spent building these sheds, which have concrete floors, electric power points, lighting etc, but cannot be accessed from the main building because of ramps and special doors which can be opened automatically so that scooters can get in and out of the building, but nobody at Milton Keynes Council will take any responsibility for paying for the work to be done to install these doors. Total incompetence on the part of the Council to get this work completed. It rather defeats the point of having the sheds built. Meanwhile, it's a trip hazard to have doormats on the outside of flats!!!! Meanwhile, if there's a fire in this building, some of the exit routes are blocked by mobility scooters!!!

I took my car to Bleak Hall Motors for its service, which was booked for 10.00 a.m. I try to get to appointments early so, if there is a chance of them starting earlier, then it's always worthwhile.

The mechanics soon had it in the workshop and I just sat in the waiting room as there was no point going home. I could have walked, but then I would have had to walk back. I read one of my books, which I had taken, and my reading glasses (or, at least, one pair that were usable and not broken.) 

After about an hour and a half, I was told that the brake fluid needed topping up, so I agreed to have it done. The whole procedure was finished by 12.20 or thereabouts, so I paid and left. I wanted to post some Christmas cards, which at that point I hadn't purchased, but I thought I'd get the stamps first and so drove into Coffee Hall, which is opposite Bleak Hall. The post office in the One-Stop shop in Garraways has a post office inside, so that seemed the obvious, and closest place to get stamps. Unfortunately, on arrival, I discovered it was closed for lunch. From there I drove to Waitrose at Oakgrove and got the Christmas cards and a book of postage stamps and as I was driving back home along Chaffron Way I realized that I had left the Sainsbury's bag which I had taken with me to Bleak Hall Motors was still in their waiting area and so I drove all the way back, retrieved the bag containing my book and glasses and then drove home to have lunch which consisted of a sandwich which I had purchased in Waitrose.

Tuesday. 6.25 a.m. It's been raining during the night. I could hear it when I woke up at around 2 o'clock. 

4.40 p.m. The drive to Camphill this morning was virtually free from the aggressive drivers and the long queue getting across the various roundabouts on the way. I imagine this is due to schools being on holiday and parents not driving their little darlings to school.

It has been really sunny and mild today. Considering how cold it was barely a week ago, with snow on the ground and surfaces in some places slippery and covered in ice. It's almost like spring. 

After the usual check-in, we did a game which had a Christmas theme to it. We stood in two lines across the hall, facing each other, and as you were in pairs, facing each other, you had to pretend it was Christmas morning and were giving your opposite number a present, which you had to mime giving to them, and then they opened it and then they gave you a present. A great deal of fun and a good way to use your imagination.

Terrie, the leader of the drama workshop, got the cast of 'Twelfth Night' to do a run-through of the first act of the play. A bit rough around the edges, but everyone remembered most of their stuff, and it was done because it will be several weeks before there will be further rehearsals.

The rest of the day was fun (well, in general, the drama workshop at Camphill is fun in some way or  another .) 

After the tea break, Terrie announced that we were to play the game 'Taskmaster', which was originally on one of the UkTv channels but is now on Channel Four. The idea is that a panel of five contestants are given various tasks and each is scored and the contestant with the most points is the winner. Mitchell, who is a new member of the leadership team within the drama workshop, went off and filled a bag with all manner of items and then the contestants, who sat on the stage, had to guess what was in the bag by feeling it. 

Several more tasks were given to the contestants and after lunch, one more go with a different set of contestants. Then there was Camphill's 'Great British Bake-Off.' I was chosen to be Mary Berry and Mitchell was Paul Hollywood (who are judges in the television show, if you didn't already know.) We made a bit issue of tasting the two cakes which some of the Camphill residents had made, which being definitely over-the-top. The two teams of bakers had to mime making their cakes (similar to how it's done on the television show.) and then we had to mark the cakes. In the end, we decided (at least I decided.) That there wasn't a lot between the two bakes and said that it was an equal win for both.

The final hour of the day was divided between having a dance around in the hall to Christmas music and the final half-hour was taken up with Terrie telling one of her stories which were very interesting and entertaining, by 4 o'clock when the drama workshop ends, it was all 'Happy Christmas!' to all until the group meets up again on 11th January 2023.

No White Christmas! Good or Bad?

 Saturday. 8.10 a.m. Cold and snowy conditions continue here in Milton Keynes, but, according to BBC Breakfast, it's going to get warmer next week. So, if that's the case, we won't get a traditional 'White Christmas.' 

11.15 a.m. I needed to get an ice scraper and more de-icer spray. I managed to get a can of spray in Sainsbury's yesterday, but no scrapers to be had. So I thought it might be an idea to look elsewhere and then decided on going to Halford's. I drove to the store in Rooksley and had a good look around and eventually had to ask a staff member who directed me to the last remaining stocks of these essential winter items. I grabbed two bottles of de-icer, just in case I couldn't get any more later on as well as the scraper and paid. I had problems keying in my PIN on the card reader, and the lady on the till told me that the keys were worn down because of people using hand gel. Which made me think if that was what it did to buttons on a card reader, what would it do to the skin on your hands? I suppose it's because most of it is alcohol-based. Worrying.

From Halfords, I drove to Sainsbury's because I had to collect a repeat prescription from Lloyd's pharmacy, which is within the store. Upon arrival inside the store and eventually arriving at the pharmacy, I found a notice informing me that they weren't opening the pharmacy until 10.30, which meant I would either have to return home and come back until 10.30 to collect my prescription or wait within the store. I didn't want to go home and then come back, so I spent the 40 minutes browsing the store, bought a string of Christmas lights, which I had been looking for anyway and also bought a few items I knew I'd need. The prescription was important because I was concerned that the order wouldn't be made up in time for the Christmas holiday when everything closes for at least two weeks.

1.35 p.m. I've been out, and it appears that the snow is gradually melting away. I do hope so, as it makes life difficult underfoot.

Sunday. 9.45 a.m. Under normal circumstances, I would have driven off to church by now, but there is no service this morning. Instead, there is to be a carol service, with candles, I believe. My only problem would be that smoke, given off by the burning of candles, would cause me to cough, so I will watch it online instead.

It's certainly a good deal milder this morning. There are definite signs of a thaw. The next problem is likely to be flooding.

2.05 p.m. There's even less chance of there being a 'White Christmas because I have been out with Alfie and it's now raining, although very thin. The grass alongside Strudwick Drive is gradually disappearing, so if it keeps on in this way, tomorrow morning it will have completely disappeared.

Monday. 3.05 a.m. I am awake, well, almost. I needed the loo (What's changed in that department?) Once I'm awake, I can't always get back to sleep. So, no point attempting to sleep. I have a shave and that makes me even more wide awake, but worth it. I do my Bible reading, 'The Bible Through The Year With Nicky Gumble', which I have on my iPad. It's he who was one of the originators of the Alpha Course at Holy Trinity Brompton. 

I'm not sure about the weather, but, having looked out of the kitchen window when I did the washing up yesterday evening, I saw that most of the snow had disappeared. At that moment, I can hear the wind, whistling and roaring around the building. 

8.00 a.m. It's windy out. The snow is gone and it's so much milder. I'm glad because it means I don't have to scrape ice off the car before I drive off to Bleak Hall Motors so that it can have its annual service. 

Snow 'n' Ice and Industrial Action

Friday. 8.30 a.m. Yet another bitingly cold morning. My car is iced up, so I've been out to run it and start scraping the ice off the windows. I found a can of de-icer hidden behind the driver's seat but couldn't remove the cap. Once indoors, I managed to remove the cap and will now be able to use the spray to defrost the rest of the windows. I will help set up the playgroup for the last time this year. The scraper has now disappeared and it's annoying as it's useful to remove the ice. It makes it such an easy job.

1.15 p.m. I've been to the Oaktree Centre to help set up the Acorns playgroup. It was partially set up when I arrived and there was to be a Christmas party, well actually two sessions when usually there would be one, starting at 10.00 and the second at around 11.15. Lots of children of pre-school age, bought by parents and grandparents. I think most of them come from around the Shenley area of Milton Keynes. 

Friday. 8.05 a.m. So, here we are once again. The week has come around and it's Friday. The days seem to go past so fast. Hence, my washing is in the machine, and I'm watching  BBC Breakfast on television. It's cold, but there doesn't seem to be any further snow, thankfully. 

We are in the middle of strikes. The NHS has been crippled by industrial action by members of the Royal College of Nursing (strange that a college should have union powers. Do unions have powers? I thought there was legislation bought in when Margaret Thatcher was in government when she enacted legislation regarding striking. Probably something about secondary picketing, but I'm not sure.) I have to say I think nurses do need a pay rise, but the government, and not just this particular government, constantly throws vast amounts of cash at the NHS, so what happens? It would appear nothing. Probably paying for more bureaucrats, pen-pushers and so on, which have virtually no effect on the care of patients. Then, of course, the NHS was virtually closed down during the pandemic and many services were shut down. The entire economy was closed down during lockdowns, and vast pots of money were thrown at people to sit at home and do nothing.  This might explain why we now have rising prices and inflation, but nobody seems to realize that is partially the cause for all this. Politicians blame the war in Ukraine, which might have a part to play, but throwing money around as was done for two years has to be paid for at some point. 

I know full well how nurses work and their devotion to their jobs, having first-hand experience of being in a hospital on the two occasions I've had heart attacks. Not just then, but during the time Carol was diagnosed with cancer and especially the period she was having chemotherapy. The nurses never stopped. They didn't seem to have breaks, or, if they did, I was never aware of them. Totally professional. They are the people that keep the NHS going.

Then there are strikes on the railways. These union members are only going to destroy their own jobs because all this disruption will only put people off using the railway system and eventually their jobs will disappear with automation and other technology.

Finally, Royal Mail is being crippled by even more strikes. This will likely spoil many people's Christmases, due to parcels and cards and other items being delayed. But there are other services available, such as DHL, and Evri, which allow you to send parcels, and probably a good deal cheaper than Royal Mail. How many letters do people send nowadays? I very rarely get letters, but plenty of junk mail, which ends up in the recycling bin. I think most people use email for personal stuff. With a first-class stamp costing almost £1, you can see why people don't use it much. 

Grills 'n' Spills!

Tuesday. 6.30 a.m. I have a cold today. I have been sneezing a lot and as a consequence, I won't be going to Camphill. I don't think it's a good idea to go and then spread it around an already vulnerable group. 

I may just add, as a sort of footnote, that there may be grills, or at least a grill, mentioned in this post, but nothing about spills, whether slipping over in the ice and snow or any sort of spill requiring me to clear up something spilt. Just thought you'd like to know. Well, it's not a footnote, come to think of it, as it not at the foot of the post. Just to clear things up before I get into this post.

I purchased a George Foreman grill from Argos a few days ago. I had around £ 40 worth of vouchers, so I didn't actually pay with cash. I have mentioned the monthly men's breakfast which we have where we usually go somewhere such as Morrison's at Westcroft or The Fountain at Loughton but we had discussed having it in the café area at The Oaktree Centre once again. The main obstacle to this is not being able to use the kitchen, which is fully equipped but hasn't been gas safety certified. (Actually, it wouldn't be a problem if the certification didn't cost in the region of £250.) I thought that a George Foreman grill would be handy as you can cook paninis on it and some fried/grilled food such as sausages. 

Wednesday. 6.45 a.m. On Monday evening I was going to have pork chops for my evening meal and I usually sear them in a frying pan before I put them into the oven to cook through thoroughly. Because of having the George Foreman grill sitting on the shelf and unused and the fact I was determined to try it out for the first time, I got it out and set it up on the work surface in the kitchen. It didn't take it long to warm up and when it was ready I put the chops on it. But, as it began to cook, it produced steam and a bit of smoke, which set off the smoke/fire alarm. It didn't just go off in my flat but throughout Dexter House. I waved a tea towel under the fire alarm in the ceiling and I think it cleared the smoke. But thinking about it now, why did nobody come and see what set the alarm off? Fortunately, it didn't go off for too long, otherwise, we would have had a visit from the fire engines which is what usually happens when a fire alarm is set off. I was supposed to have an extractor fan fitted to my kitchen window by Mears, but I am still awaiting this installation so that this sort of thing doesn't happen. Pigs might fly!

Another box ticked. I have ordered my grandchildren's Christmas present from Smyth's website and the present will be delivered straight to their home in Worcester. It saves me having to go out and buy it and then wrap it and then go wherever (probably not a Post Office, because of the current strikes.) and have it sent by whatever means. All this was done at around 3 a.m. because I was wide awake and couldn't sleep.

10.10 a.m. Yet another snowy day, although we haven't had any more fall. Probably just as well. As I write, the sun is out and I have been out to clear the car of ice. I have sprayed the windows and had the heaters on, but I have mislaid the scraper. I'm keen to have it clear enough to see out properly as I am going to have the blood test at 11.20. I don't relish having needles stuck in my arm, as I must have explained in earlier posts. If it's done quickly, then I don't mind. It's when they say 'I can't find a vein' that it worries me. After I'd had my first heart attack back in 2006, they wanted to take blood and at one point the nurse (venipuncturist? Is that the correct name?) had a problem taking blood and wanted to take it from one of my hands. No way would I allow it. It would be far too painful. It should come from a fleshy part of your anatomy. They took it from my leg. I left the hospital with one arm looking black and blue where they'd attempted to take blood, and more like I'd been in some sort of accident, or a battle. Yes, the battle with a needle. All this because I have narrow veins and at one surgery they decided that they needed to use a needle which was really narrow and suitable for taking blood from babies!

1.45 p.m. I have been for my appointment to have blood taken for a blood test. It was scheduled for 11.20 a.m., but I almost always attempt to arrive at such appointments early, so that I can possibly be seen earlier. I signed in, using the computerized system, but then I had an urgent need for a toilet (I'm afraid age has a large part to play in this.) To be honest, I prefer to look for toilets on my own, without having to ask. Well, it can't be too difficult to find such facilities without having to ask. Most toilets are well enough signposted or at least, market 'Ladies' or 'Gents.' But when I had a wander, the only one I could find was locked. You needed a special Radar key, which I know about, having been a carer of people who require facilities and so have the special key with me for such an eventuality. But, in a doctor's surgery, you would imagine that toilets would be easily accessible without having to resort to such a key. So I had to go to the reception desk and ask where the nearest toilet was and was then told to use the Radar key, which was in a special container at the front of the reception desk. Which is what I did and was able to use the aforementioned facilities.

I returned to my seat in the waiting area and then someone came out calling for 'Mr Gillespie.' It made me look up, as my middle name is Gillespie, which was the surname on my maternal grandmother's side of my family. At one time I even double-barrelled it and called myself John Gillespie-Murdoeh, but looking back that sounds somewhat pretentious. I went with the nurse to the room and told her I would need to lie down to have the blood taken. So, I lay on the couch and she started to look for a vein in my right arm. It was then that I began to worry that she wouldn't be able to find a suitable vein and be able to take blood. She then decided to have a go at my left arm and after some effort, she did manage to take some blood. 

When I go for such an appointment, I am usually able to start some sort of conversation, but she wasn't going to communicate in any other way except about the job at hand. I find, in such situations, that some sort of rapport can elevate the tension, particularly as I have terrible experiences with giving blood (as mentioned earlier in this post. She seemed in rather an uncooperative mood and a bit glum, to say the least, but at least the blood sample was taken and I should get the result in a couple of days. I said 'perhaps I am bloodless' and 'I wouldn't make a very good vampire,' but to no avail. Never mind. Some falls on stony ground. I just have to accept that some people just don't appreciate my sense of humour, such as it is. 

Christmas Build-Up?

Sunday. 8.15 a.m. Yet another cold and frosty morning. I have dug out my gloves and woolly Oddballs hat before going out. My hands get freezing cold and can get really painful if I don't wear gloves in such conditions.

9.20 a.m. I have been out to defrost the car. Fortunately, I had the sense to buy some spray antifreeze the other day when I was in Sainsbury's and I also have a scraper, which makes the job easier. I don't think it was a particularly heavy frost, and the ice cleared easily. Also, putting on the car's heated windscreen helps considerably.

2.30 p.m. After our usual service at Shenley Christian Fellowship, we had a Christmas party. It was a bring-and-share meal, the idea being that a list of food was put up on a white board and if you could provide something on that list, you prepared it or bought it. I had tomato and cucumbers, cut up and put into one of my metal bowls, crisps, Twiglets and grapes to take. I went to Sainsbury's during the week to do a top-up shop and got most of those items, except Twiglets. Search as I might, there were none to be had. A bit like Lane, the butler in 'The Importance of Being Earnest, who responds to the question about cucumbers, which have been made for Algernon's aunt, Lady Bracknell, 'I went down to the market earlier and there were no cucumbers, not even for ready money.'

Not only is it bitingly cold today, but there's a thick fog covering all of Milton Keynes. It seems to have got worse as the day has progressed. It's just as well I don't have to drive far because I don't like driving in fog, especially when it's so thick you can only see a short distance ahead of you and definitely not on any Motorway. Also, with snow, it would be treacherous.

Monday. 6.30 a.m. I have a feeling we had a fall of snow overnight. I have yet to be outside, but I am waiting to go out and then will discover if that is correct.

8.50 a.m. There has definitely been quite a fall of snow overnight. When I took Alfie out at 7.35 we discovered a thick layer of snow on the grass alongside Strudwick Drive. My car has a blanket of snow on it as I gaze out of the window, and I will have to go down and brush it off. I have also been to take a few photographs with my iPhone and they have been uploaded onto Facebook.

1.10 a.m. I have been out to scrape off the snow from my car. I was surprised by how much there was and how thick it was. I wasn't preparing to go out in the car immediately, but I was thinking it might be a good idea to clear it before there's another snowstorm overnight and that it would need clearing off the car before I drive to Camphill tomorrow morning. I just hope it doesn't snow overnight nor that it freezes, which would make the job easier.

I had a telephone call this morning from one of the pharmacists at my doctor's surgery, Central Milton Keynes Medical Centre. I was actually expecting a doctor to ring. I thought we were going to discuss and review my medications but wasn't about that. I wanted to talk about the cough I keep having, due to the amount of phlegm I have at the back of my throat and the heartburn, which can feel almost exactly like how your body feels when you have a heart attack. She said I would need to speak to a GP and that I can make an appointment at around 7 p.m. for the next day. I also have to have a blood test and an appointment to have an amount of blood taken (not something I like, but still, it must be done.) so there can be a check on my kidney function. That is made for Wednesday morning at 11.20 a.m. Which means,  no food to be eaten beforehand.

I have booked my car into Bleakhall Motors for a service on Monday 19th December and this is at 8.00 a.m. I'm trying my best to keep the car in good mechanical order so having it serviced regularly seems a sensible idea to me.

6.20 p.m. I have just been watching a video on Vimeo, the video-sharing site, of the pantomime which the  Camphill theatre workshop did in July. I had heard all about it and would have gone to see it if I had been able to go to Camphill, but hadn't been able to because of the pandemic and having to wear a face mask. I am absolutely knocked out by the energy and enthusiasm that was put into the production. Everyone remembered their lines and gave such strong performances. A real winner. A great deal of hard work and effort went into the whole show.

Christmas Cheer?

 Saturday. 8.25 a.m. It's cold and frosty. I was out with my little mate, Alfie, just after  7.30. A frost on the grass and a large moon hovering in the chill sky. It was really large the other morning. I'm not sure of the name it gets at this time of year. I'll have to do a Google search. 

Done the Google search. It's called a Cold Moon. Boring really. It's because the weather gets colder. Not very original, then. 

So, we get more football coverage, due to England meeting France in the quarter-finals at the World Cup in Qatar at 7.00 this evening. No, I'm not interested, so won't be watching. There's far too much coverage, and it looks as if the whole country is totally obsessed with football. I know why, it's about money. Too much riding on it all, with adverting and sponsorship tied up with the sport. Going into Sainsbury's the other morning, it was shocking to see how many products are tied into it. They want you to make sure you have plenty of food to eat during the various games, particularly pizza, crisps, lager, and soft drinks such as Coca-Cola and Pepsi. It's not just in supermarkets, either. Turn on any of the commercial television stations, and the advertising connected to the World Cup is more or less at saturation point. If you want to avoid any form of advertising by watching catch-up, you can't avoid it as these forms of television viewing aren't free from commercial overkill. I suppose you can't blame the companies, because they're paid for by advertising, not just during programmes, but they have sponsorship wrapping around each programme, beginning and end and during the commercial breaks. 

10.40 a.m. I've been attempting to move my writing project forward. I think it's more of a serial instead of a novel, and it should be released in episodes, which is more or less how he began life. I wanted to create something, rather in the mould of a television soap, with multiple characters and storylines which interact with one another, but more likely weave in and out of a central storyline, which is how it's developing. 

I have taken Alfie out and have just got back indoors. It's cold enough for gloves and my Oddballs woolly hat (Oddballs being a company that sells clothing items, underwear, pyjamas, gloves and so on, and the profits go towards initially,  research for a cure for prostate cancer, but have also helped fund other cancer research for both men and women.) I wanted to walk around Oldbrook Green, although Alfie had other ideas and was determined to get home in the warm, but I had other ideas and insisted on our circular walk continuing. I had the idea to be thinking about how my writing project could move forward and come up with some sort of storyline which would introduce a new character who would be able to create some tension. So, I am using the method which Charles Dickens used, as he would walk for miles around London and this would be when he came up with storylines and characters. I can see that would be a good method and might suggest why so many of his novels are set in London. 

Sunday. 7.15 a.m. Did I say Christmas cheer in the title of this post? I can't say I'm particularly in any sort of mood for Christmas, particularly as today is the fourth anniversary of the passing of my lovely wife, Carol. She is sorely missed, and she was too young to die at 54. We had such a good life together and were always doing things together, laughing and visiting various places, going to National Trust properties, museums, theatres and many more places. Cancer is so cruel. More research needs to be done to find a cure for the various forms it takes. Far too many people have either died of cancer or not been diagnosed by the NHS due to the pandemic when the various cancer facilities were shut down. Totally crazy and not acceptable.

A Cold And Frosty Morning

Wednesday.10.40 a.m. A freezing and frosty morning when I took Alfie out after 7.30. I don't think it was such a surprise, as this is probably typical weather at this time of the year. Later, I went out to scrape ice off the car and put the heaters on to defrost the windscreen and rear window. Later still, I went to Sainsbury's and got a spray bottle of antifreeze, amongst other things.

Thursday. 6.40 a.m. I'm not sure how cold it is outside and whether I will need to defrost the car before I drive to the Oaktree Centre this morning. I am due to take Alfie out as soon as it gets light, probably around 7.30.

12.35 p.m. It turned out to be frosty and cold. The temperature has definitely fallen sharply. Considering how warm it's been throughout the summer and well into the autumn, it's quite a contrast.

Friday. 6.50 a.m. I had a terrible bout of heartburn when I went to bed last night. Having had two heart attacks, I have a good idea of what that feels like and the feeling of intense heartburn is very similar. In fact, the first time I had a heart attack, I actually thought it was no more than heartburn. It's in virtually the same place in your chest. I took one of my Gaviscon tablets, which fortunately I had in my medications' drawer, and it did subside eventually, but it was still frightening. Not having someone around immediately to support me was rather scary and then, had I actually had a heart attack, what would have happened to Alfie if I'd gone to the hospital then there was the prospect of being stuck in the hospital for a couple of days. Not something I was particularly looking forward to. I still don't know what set the heartburn off as I had eaten my meal two or more hours before. I have a medication review on Monday. I have my doctor telephoning me and I will discuss this then. Also, the troublesome cough I have I reckon is caused by one of my medications, possibly the Atorvostatin. I think is causing the phlegm at the back of my throat, which makes me cough. It just will not go away. It is very annoying and unpleasant.

7.55 a.m. It's frosty and cold once again. 

I have loaded the washing machine with clothes (well, what else would I load into a washing machine?) So, another hour or so before I remove it and put the load into the drier.

Alfie is now well and truly warm and comfortable on my bed. Well, who can blame him? He knows where it's best to sleep.

I am watching another episode of one of my all-time favourite television shows, 'The Avengers' on Britbox. It is very stylistic and typically 1960s entertainment. Mrs Peel, played by the late, great Diana Rigg, is a very positive female role model. No shrinking violet or your stereotypical female sidekick. The whole show is very tongue-in-cheek and doesn't take itself too seriously. 

Another Week Of Excitement? Don't Bank On It.

 Monday. 6.40 a.m. Here I am, early morning, in my sitting room (lounge to some. Makes me think of someone laying nonchalantly on a chaise lounge or sofa, literally lounging.) It's dark outside. I'm not good at this time of year. Lack of light or something.

10.10 a.m. There's an annoying sound outside in the street. It's a high-pitched drone. I think it's council workers cutting the hedges along Dexter Avenue. The hedges are definitely in need of a trim, but at the moment it's really getting on my nerves and not helping my concentration. It is a continuous drone sound, a single note that goes right through your head and, as a result, clears all the ideas you ever had out of your brain. Just horrible.

I have been transferring some more handwritten material onto word processing. It's a piece I started and had more or less forgotten. It relates to what I have already written, but you would call it 'meta.' That is,  set in a sort of parallel world of the central character of the longer piece (if that makes sense. Meta, referring to the fictional world.) Much like in Shakespeare, the 'play-within-a-play' in 'Hamlet' uses theatrical metaphors as a device. I'm not going to discuss it further on here as it is still in development and I don't want to give away any plot details.

Tuesday. 7.45 a.m. Did I say, a week of excitement? But this is Fogeyville (my name for Dexter House.) I don't think there's any likelihood of any sort of excitement, except for the regular Wednesday afternoon tea-and-biscuits session in the communal lounge. I did go the first week, and I attempted to start some sort of intelligent conversation, and I drew a complete blank. There's to be a Christmas party on Friday afternoon, but I will be elsewhere at that time.

It's another relatively mild morning, although I have found my gloves, and I'm wearing one of my long-sleeved Marks and Spencer Rugby shirts. Really warm. I wanted to iron it, using my steam iron, but it just won't work properly. It won't reach a high enough temperature and therefore produce steam to work efficiently, so it looks as if I'm going to have to replace it. Looking on the Argos website, I have discovered you can get a cordless steam iron, which would make things easier without the electric cable getting in the way. I did set up my ironing board in the kitchen, but there's so little space, it makes it very difficult. 

4.45 p.m. I've just got back from Camphill, after another good day in the theatre workshop. I'm so impressed by these people, most of whom have some form of learning disability. Some have real problems with communication, but they manage to get up on stage and perform, have to remember not just lines, but where to stand and then create a character. Just quite emotional. There's one lady who came in to see whether she would like to be part of the group, and, after only a couple of weeks, she's contributing, taking on a part and by now is really confident. The group works so well, and it's a real delight to be part of it all.

The Cold(er) Blasts of Wintery Weather

Thursday12.00 p.m. It's a good deal colder this morning. I thought there was ice on my car before I drove off to the Oaktree Centre at around 8.50 a.m. to help set up the playgroup, but it wasn't ice, just moisture, so that was a relief.

Friday. 9.15 a.m. The washing is in the dryer. It will take around 45 minutes before it is dry enough to remove and for me to hang my shirts in the wardrobe and the rest in the drawer unit. Then, with my shopping list in my hand, I will be off to Sainsbury's.

Yet another relatively mild morning. Totally unseasonal.

Saturday. 6.55 a.m. It's dark. Well, that's a surprise? No, well, it is usually at this time of the morning in early December. 

Sunday. 8.10 a.m. My posts on here are getting thinner and thinner. 

The weather is getting considerably colder as the days go by. What do you expect in December?

The World Cup is dominating everything at the moment. I am no fan of football, so it's something to avoid. It's not necessarily the football that I find annoying, but all the waffle they dole out, the constant chatter which is more like padding between the games and the fact that all three main television channels have games on at the same time. You get highly-paid, so-called pundits, such as Gary Lineker, rambling on incessantly, and then they have what I think you call 'vox-pops', where they go out into the streets and ask members of the public for their views. Totally irrelevant and meaningless. Not journalism at all. Crazy. 

12.30 p.m. We had café church at SCF this morning. In fact, I have just got back. The idea is to attract non-church-goers into the Oaktree Centre and there's free cake, coffee, tea and other goodies and games for the children to play and a time to chat with anyone and everyone and make friendships. I have spoken to several people I haven't met or even spoken to before and a good sense of community.

3.35 p.m. I have resubscribed to Britbox, the streaming service which is owned by all the major British television providers, BBC, ITV, Channel 4 and 5. There is a lot of classic drama on there, Doctor Who, Keeping Up Appearances, Fawlty Towers and more and quite a lot of original content. I was interested in watching the new series of 'Staged' the comedy starring David Tennant and Michael Sheen, which is set during the pandemic and imagines them staging a play via Zoom. The new series is exclusive to Britbox. At £5.99 a month it seems excellent value and the content is constantly changing, with stuff being taken off and new stuff being added.

6.25 p.m. I'm watching the BBC's 1970s serialization of 'I Claudius' on Britbox. This was one of the BBC's hits in its day. Derek Jacobi was Claudius, with a stammer. It is somewhat stagey by modern standards. No exteriors and definitely studio-bound, but that was the way television drama was made in the mid-1970s. It has stood the test of time remarkably well. They must have spent a lot on sets and costumes. Also made on tape rather than film. It's more like a filmed stage play. Derek Jacobi's makeup is a bit ropey. I don't know what age he was when he played the part of Claudius, but he's made to appear as an old man, who is telling the story. Other actors who appear are Sian Phillips as Claudius's mother, Brian Blessed, (here far more restrained than his usual 'shouty' acting in later programmes and films.) and John Hurt as Caligula. 

All The Right Notes . . . But Not Necessarily In The Right Order!

Monday. 9.30 a.m. It's bright and sunny and unseasonably mild. I can't believe we'll be in December in a couple of days.

Not a lot to report at present. 

Tuesday. 5.15 p.m. Monday may have been somewhat dull (well, life at Dexter House is somewhat mundane, to say the least.) but today has been exceptional.

It didn't start out particularly well. As I've mentioned earlier, the drive to Camphill can be somewhat nerve-wracking. Normally, at a later time of day, it would take no more than ten minutes, but with heavy traffic, it can take twice as long. This morning, as usual, I drove along Strudwick Drive and onto Chaffron Way, but this beast of an H.G.V. came right up behind me. It was not a pleasant experience to have this thing looming over me, very nearly touching the back bumper of my Renault and I was more than pleased that it didn't continue following me as it turn off to the left along Saxon Street at the Eaglestone Roundabout `(also known as 'Four Bridges.')

The traffic heading for the centre of Milton Keynes is heavy along Chaffron Way, Portway and Childs Way. Crossing the various roundabouts along Brickhill Street on the way to Camphill can be quite daunting because you have to judge when there is going to be a gap and then drive forward. It's not great for me, particularly as I was run into twice when I was a home carer and used to drive around Milton Keynes between the various calls I had early in the day. Then there are aggressive drivers, who think it's fine to come right up behind you as you drive (called, I believe, 'tailgating.') Then some drivers don't seem to think you need to stop and wait for traffic to pass on roundabouts and just carry on regardless, which is probably why I got to run into. 

Well, thinking about the drive to Camphill, it wasn't as stressful as it can be, but I'm thinking, 'I thought that Milton Keynes was supposed to not have traffic problems, gridlock and similar when it was being planned in the 1960s.' It certainly doesn't live up to that promise. Some of the roundabouts really need to have temporary traffic lights at critical times of day, which would surely cut the hold-ups with cars bumper to bumper.

At Camphill there are early signs of Christmas as some of the houses have lights strung up on their exterior and on the front of the house which is directly opposite the Chrysalis Theatre, which has the cafe on its ground floor, there are lights strung across the walkways and balconies and a very large central wreath of holly and other seasonal vegetation which is ringed with lights which will only look their best when it gets dark.

The theatre workshop group met in the crypt in the theatre, because the theatre upstairs was being used by another group which came in from outside Camphill, called Phoenix Rising. The crypt is quite a cramped space, which made it difficult to do some of the exercises which we have been doing over the past few weeks, and which I am only just managing to follow.  The art space, a room along the corridor from the crypt, was used so the group could do work on designing their costumes for Twelfth Night, but then I was required to take a couple within the group out for a walk because one of them, who is diabetic, had high blood sugar and some for of exercise, such as walking, will help reduce his blood sugar. So we went out and did a circuit of Camphill and along the Grand Union Canal and past the tree cathedral which I pass on Brickhill Street and then back into Camphill.

Terrie, the leader of the group, was taking each member of the cast of Twelfth Night, into the wardrobe department and going through costumes for each actor in the play. It was interesting seeing what costumes the gang either chose or were given to wear. As this show is supposed to be vaguely inspired by steampunk it was difficult to see the connection, or am I missing the point?

After lunch,  I went with the same set of guys for yet another walk, but this time it was the reverse of the morning's group. I must remember to take a G.T.N. spray, because I began to get a slight angina attack, probably set off by the fact that we were walking much too fast, but it soon settled down. When we got back to the crypt, the rest of the afternoon was spent learning a sea shanty which Mitchell, who is a new member of the leadership group, had written, and it was great to get a chance to sing with the group. Then Terrie started work with the gang in Act 2 of Twelfth Night. The gang is given a sort of outline of each scene and then they start to improvise the scenes and the dialogue. Terrie has got a written text, based loosely on the Shakespeare text. The whole day was absolutely brilliant and I must say, going to Camphill does help my mental health and the group are so friendly and supportive, not just of one another but each other. As a result of all the walking done during the day, I managed to clock up just over 12,000 steps.

Fun With Tech?

Friday.  9.15 a.m. I always have a problem trying to find a title for each blog post. I sometimes start off with anything which comes to mind, often a song title, and, as the contents of the post reveal themselves, I change it to suit.

It's really sunny and bright as I write this post. I have been out, as usual, with Alfie, and found it was dry. I have an idea it rained in the night. I'm waiting for my washing to dry. Most of it is in the drier and should be done by around 9.35 a.m.

Saturday. 2.00 p.m. Here I am, sitting here in my sitting room (do people ever speak of their 'lounge'? Is it middle class to have a sitting room? Is a lounge what you have in a pub? I don't know. If you're further up the social scale, perhaps you'd refer to a drawing room. Interesting thought. It always made me wonder what a drawing room was for. Not drawing, in the sense of drawing on a piece of paper. It's a contraction of withdrawing, when the upper echelons of society went after they'd had their dinners, the ladies probably went to the drawing room, and the men withdrew to the smoking room to talk about things such as politics without the ladies) 

The weather is more settled today. It's somewhat overcast, a bit dull, no sunshine and there is a bit of a breeze. Considering me almost into December, it's unseasonably mild for the time of year.

I went to Sainsbury's at around 9 o'clock this morning. It was quiet, which is one advantage of going early. I attempt to find a trolley which doesn't have wonky wheels. It surely can't be difficult to keep these vital pieces of equipment running smoothly. Just an occasional spray with WD-40 on each wheel would most likely prevent wobbliness (is that even a word?) Some squeak and others have one or two wheels which refuse to turn, or they bump along when you push them. 

There was only one operator on the manned tills when I came to pay. Why on earth don't they put on more operators, particularly on a Saturday, when there's bound to be more people shopping? It was the same last week when I was in John Lewis's and in the restaurant. Just take staff off other areas. I think they are attempting to wean people off manned tills and onto self-service. The problem is, whenever I use them there is a problem. It always seems to happen, the old thing of 'item unknown' or' 'item in bagging area' or something really strange and unnecessary. They still need someone to be available when there's a problem, as there was this morning. The confounded thing kept going wrong, and I had to have a staff member come and deal with it. I think the machinery is far too sensitive, for whatever reason.

The same situation as I've mentioned before, since they've relocated many items, but I'm beginning to adjust to the new locations of many items I buy. 

10.30 p.m. I've been watching one of the 'extras' on the three-set DVD, 'Lord of The Rings.' It turns out that there is an 'extended' 'Director's Cut' set which has around 30 minutes of material which was excised from the original theatrical version of the films. I want to get this, if it's still available. I have read the novels around four times, probably once every decade since the 1970s and each time I read the books I find something which I didn't notice on previous readings. The Peter Jackson films, which this three-DVD set is directed by, are about as close to what I envisioned the look and feel of the books as you could get and are a remarkable work of sheer genius. It's incredible to think that it's twenty years since the first film was released.

Christmas Is Coming!

Sunday.10.15 a.m. I am making an effort to reach my 10,000 steps today and, hopefully, exceed that target. As I write this, the FitBit shows I have done 4132 steps. I have been out with Alfie around 7 a.m. and we have also been out at around 9.15 and did two circuits of Oldbrook Green.

4.55p.m. I have exceeded 11,000 steps (the actual reading from my FitBit is 11,647.) I took Alfie out and we did another two circuits of Oldbrook Green and went around Oldbrook, some way along Strudwick Drive and some other roads. I'm now knackered.

Monday. 10.35 a.m. Here's a thing. I've been to Sainsbury's. I bought some brandy butter. Well, you can't NOT have brandy butter at Christmas, with your mince pies or Christmas pud. On the label, it says 'contains alcohol.' Now, THERE'S a surprise! It's got brandy in it, so it's bound to have alcohol in it. Or is it? I suppose it could have brandy FLAVOUR in it, perhaps essence or something. But what do you expect from it? Tea? Coffee? It really makes you wonder who has the idea of putting obvious labels on things, such as cups of coffee that state, 'hot. May cause burns.' Or a glass bottle, 'will break if dropped.' Doh!

2.45 p.m. The weather has changed considerably. As I write this it's raining and was tipping it down when I went out with Alfie just after lunch.

Tuesday. 7.40 a.m. Fairly mild this morning. Not a lot more to report as I write this

It didn't seem quite as busy on the road, driving to Camphill yesterday morning. There wasn't the great long queue of cars at the roundabout just before the Camphill entrance, thank goodness. Another super day with the theatre workshop guys. The morning was spent with some of the guys being interviewed on video, talking about a show they had done earlier in the year, particularly how much they had achieved, what they had learnt and how it had grown their confidence. I'm not sure where this video will be shown, most likely on YouTube and other online sites and used to show the way drama helps people with learning disabilities and particularly to help with funding and making sure it carries on. A few drama exercises to get limbered up and to help with speech and after lunch Terrie, the leader of the group began working with the group on rehearsing the first few scenes of 'Twelfth Night.' The group are allowed to put their own stamp on things and add their own ideas. It looks very good at the moment. I'm really looking forward to seeing how this show develops.

Wednesday. 7.50 a.m. The weather is changing. I wasn't expecting rain when Alfie and I went out. He soon took me back indoors and is now merrily curled up on the sofa.

9.35 a.m. It's windy. In fact, looking out of the kitchen window, I can see the branches of the trees moving quite vigorously. The sun is now shining, but I don't expect it means it's very warm out.

Thursday. 7.45 a.m. Mild and calm this morning on the weather front. 

12.50 p.m. I've been to the Oaktree Centre this morning to help set up the playgroup. I left Dexter House a good deal later than usual, and as a result I managed to avoid the gridlock which I have to experience in earlier weeks. Then, on the way home at around 11.45 I had to go on a somewhat circuitous diversion because Chaffron Way was closed off at Watling Street. It was really annoying and there was no sign that this was going to happen further back towards Shenley.

5.05 p.m. As you may know (or, for that matter, maybe not) I have an iPad. I bought it during lockdown and it has been used quite a bit and I have uploaded quite a few apps, Facebook, Twitter as well as having The Telegraph app and a subscription which means I don't have to buy a print copy. I had intended using the iPad with an Apple Pencil, so I could use an app called Procreate. I downloaded it and had a look at it, but it turned out the iPad didn't work with the Apple Pencil. I just assumed that all iPads would work with such a device. Both were bought through the online store, Very, so I could pay by instalments. You never get told the basics for such things. I wasn't aware, until a few days ago, that there were so many different iPads in the range. They range from a mini version up to around a 12.5 inch version. Mine is 10.2 and, after some research to discover which version it is, that mine is a seventh generation model and doesn't work with Apple Pencil. I am therefore planning to buy a new iPad which will work with the Apple Pencil. I went into the Apple Store in Midsummer Place and spoke with a staff member, showing her the Apple Pencil I have, which has the special tip missing. It turns out it's a second generation pencil and only works with later iPad models. I had hoped to buy new tips, but they didn't have any in stock. At home I went on Amazon and have ordered some (a good deal cheaper than the Apple store.) and they should arrive sometime tomorrow. I will now order a new iPad and hopefully, the Apple pencil will work with it. (I will be more careful that I order a model with is compatible.)

A Bureaucratic Nightmare

Thursday. 7.30 a.m. It's a great deal colder and far wetter than it's been in quite some time, so it was something of a shock to myself and Alfie when I took him out at around 7 o'clock. He didn't intend to hang around too long outside and soon took me back inside and, as I write this, is tucked up on my bed.

Friday. 4.00 p.m. Some things defy description or logical explanation. Let me elucidate further. I may have mentioned them in these blog posts before, so, if you have read about them before, bear with me. The first is Mears, the contract company who do the maintenance in Dexter House. You may recall that my kitchen was upgraded during the summer. In fact, the work began at the beginning of July and went on for around a month or more. Before the work began I had a visit from two ladies who set out my options for such things as the type of worktops I could have, the cupboard fronts as well as handles on the drawers and cupboards. I asked at that time about the possibility of having an extractor fan fitted, because of the fire alarms being set off when I burnt toast or something in the oven. This has already happened and it means the entire place has alarms set off and the arrival of a fire engine which can be very embarrassing. I was informed that, yes, I could have such an extractor fan and that it would be fitted in the window near the sink. All well and good. There was even a special socket installed near the window, which was where the phantom extractor fan would be located.

Work on the kitchen was completed. I was told by the foreman or manager of the work that the extractor fan would be installed once the kitchen was finished. But nothing happened. And nothing happened, and I waited and, nothing happened. This went on for weeks. I rang Mears and got nowhere. I rang a few weeks ago and had another go and was told 'an order has been raised.' Which raised my hopes that the work would be done. How long would it be before I heard anything? Pigs might fly. Who knows? Then, a day or so ago I was speaking to Barbara, the SHO here at Dexter House, and she told me a workman had turned on Tuesday, totally unannounced, when I was at Camphill, ready to do the installation of the extractor fan. My question is, why just TURN UP unannounced? Did they just expect me to be at home, ready to let them in and do the work? Why did they not contact me via email, text message or phone, to arrange a convenient time to do the installation of the extractor fan? I still await some sort of communication regarding this issue.

The next issue regards my glasses. I had my eyes tested by a visiting optician and around a week later the completed glasses arrived at my door. I had distance glasses as well as reading glasses, but the reading glasses fell apart around six weeks ago. The lens of one side just fell out of the frame. I hardly touched them and I have to wear a pair of ready-made reading glasses I bought in Sainsburys.

I didn't have any idea what the name of the company was who tested my eyes, or any idea how to contact them, but I have now found it, thanks to Barbara, the SHO (Supported Housing Officer) at Dexter House, who has given me a card with the optician company's name on it, together with two telephone numbers to ring. (The company is called Kindsight.) So, I rang the first number and, lo and behold! There was nobody on the other end, just a recorded voice. (How many companies work on this principle? Just a remote telephone number, not even a call centre with a human answering the telephone, and working from 'computerized 'voice activation'?) I had to 'speak after the tone,' and then press the hash key on my telephone keypad to 'save' the message. Will I get a response and get my reading glasses repaired? It is, as they say, in the lap of the gods. When these companies rely on digital or telephone communication, I'm not sure how much you can actually trust them.

The third and final issue revolves around one of the medications I take and have on repeat with my doctor's surgery and then made up at Lloyd's pharmacy in Sainsbury's. I have Atorvastatin which I take in the evening with other medications. I do a regular check to see what I have left and whether I need to do a repeat prescription. Having been a carer, I used to look after peop-le's prescriptions and medications and in some cases do reviews for them. I do the ordering via an app called Airmid, which is connected to my doctor's surgery, Central Milton Keynes Medical Centre in Bradwell Common. You used to be able to contact the pharmacy and then would put the order in, but now you have to go direct to the surgery and they do all the ordering (they use electronic prescriptions which, I presume, saves paper and should, in theory, be far more efficient.) 

I found, when I came to do the order on the Airmid app, that Atorvastatin was 'greyed out', meaning I couldn't order it for some reason or other. I did put in the order through the 'message' feature on the app and assumed that would be fine. On picking up the order the following day (they seem to be able to make the prescription up relatively quickly these days. It could be up to a week after I put in a repeat order.) Atorvastatin wasn't included. I was told by the pharmacist that I needed to have a review, and then I thought I might be able to have that done by Lloyd's. But apparently not. The doctor needs to do it. WHY? I would have thought the pharmacist, whose job it is to know all about the various drugs they deal with, could have done that. Then it turned out that the surgery had rung me so I rang (a day or so after the message had been left as a voicemail, which I never think to listen to. Perhaps, on reflection, I ought to.)

I rang the surgery and got through relatively quickly and spoke to a receptionist. I was expecting to have to make some sort of appointment with a doctor to review the Atorvastatin, but the receptionist ordered the meds for me and the repeat has been sent to Lloyd's pharmacy in Sainsbury's and, as I write this post, the order is ready to collect from Lloyd's as I had a text to tell me it was ready yesterday. So, what's this about a review? Have I still got to have an appointment? What ON EARTH is all this about? I just don't understand any of this. It's no wonder the NHS is in such a mess. Far too much bureaucracy. Things have really got worse, not better. It is stressful, first off, not knowing if I will actually GET the meds, and attempting to be offered some sort of appointment at the surgery. Even now, I don't have any idea of the outcome of this issue.

Camphill Theatre Workshop

Tuesday.6.00 p.m. It's been a very wet day. I've been to Camphill (back in the routine, more or less as it was before lockdown.) The journey to Camphill takes about twice as long during 'Rush Hour', because of the amount of traffic on the road.

As with each session in the drama workshop at Camphill, things begin with check-in, which is when every participant tells the group how they feel and what they have been doing up until that point. There are around 25 people in the group, give or take perhaps three, some are on holiday or at least, elsewhere, and somebody may come to get a taster of the group (rather like I did when I started with the group in around April 2019. I can't believe it's getting on for three years ago.) The check-in took longer than usual, probably just an hour. Some people have quite a lot to talk about. Then, a 'warm-up session is led by Terrie, the new leader of the group. I'm quite used to seeing actors going through something similar before they start a performance when I worked in stage management. It's rather like an athlete warming up before some form of activity, such as running a race. Then, a game called 'Grandmother's Basket', which entails everyone sitting in a circle. The first person has a basket and has to say the name of an object which they have in the basket and mime it (I don't think everyone did this, but never mind.) Then the basket is passed to the next person in the circle, who adds another of their own, as outrageous or imaginative as possible and also adds the previous person's item, and the basket continues around, with each person having to add another item and say the other items that have been added. It gets more and more difficult as the baskets further round. So, you can imagine, with around 25 people, the last person has to remember all the items that came before them. I think the group were quite brilliant at remembering all the items!

Terrie is developing a new show with the group (this had begun well before I returned to the theatre workshop.) which is a pantomime version of the William Shakespeare play 'Twelfth Night.' The group have been each been given their characters and has been working on the way they behave and move. At this stage, there is no written script. Some of the actual speeches will be incorporated into the piece, for example, the famous opening speech 'If music be the food of love, play on!' but Terrie is writing the dialogue so that it fits the capabilities of each actor in the piece.

After the tea break, there was an intriguing game set up on the stage and hidden behind the curtains. When they were opened, we saw the stage scattered with all manner of items, hats, pieces of costume, pots, saucepans, and goodness knows what else. The game we were instructed in was to walk around the stage and pick up an item and, in the manner of clowns, to use the item in a way which was not what it was intended for. You couldn't speak, having to communicate using mime.

After lunch Terrie launched into rehearsing some of the scenes from 'Twelfth Night, breaking down what story elements in each scene and then getting the guys to act out what they had been shown and extracting as much comedy out of the material as possible. 

I have to say since I've been involved with the theatre workshop at Camphill, I have noticed how the group has increased their confidence. In fact, a great deal of confidence is required to stand up on a stage and perform, remember lines and put your heart and soul into what you're doing, and for people who have some form of learning disability, together with communication issues, speech, hearing or whatever, it must be very difficult. That is the benefit of working in some form of theatre, which is what the workshop is all about. 

Mild November

Saturday. 6.20 a.m. I'm awake (well, almost!) and BBC Breakfast is on television. On the weather forecast, I've been told it's 19ºc (what's that in Fahrenheit? I can only really recognize Fahrenheit. I can't spell it, so my spell-checker has done it for me. I have Grammarly installed on this MacBook.

My MacBook has now upgraded the operating system. It now has Ventura 3.01 installed. It was done on Thursday when I went to help set up the playgroup at the Oaktree Centre. It took two hours, so I left the laptop downloading and installed the new OS when I returned to the flat at around midday.

9.30 a.m. I've been to Sainsbury's. Going early saves all the bother of queuing at the checkout, although you have alternative methods, self-service as well as scan-and-go (or whatever they call it.) I don't always trust the self-service machinery to not break down or something going wrong, so I have always preferred to use manned checkouts (are we allowed to say 'manned'? They are usually operated by women, although 'manned' should refer to men or women. Well, I know what I mean.

Sunday. 6.40 a.m. Wide awake (well, almost.) I have tidied the kitchen. Washing-up done. I can't stand coming home from something and finding a load of dirty dishes in the sink, so it's done and dusted. Meds took and waiting around 15 minutes before I take Alfie out as it is far too dark at the moment. 

8.40 a.m. I have now had breakfast and my regulatory cup of tea (well, mug, actually. Who on earth has cups and saucers in this day and age?) We went out, Alfie and I, and we walked around Oldbrook Green. I am attempting to get my number of steps in. Currently, my FitBit tells me I've done 1847 steps.

Monday. 7.30 a.m. A surprise this morning to discover it's foggy outside. 

I managed to exceed my 10,000 steps yesterday. Great! I must keep this going. I have lost quite a bit of weight, although I'm not so sure if it's all down to walking. 100.03 kg, although I can never really know what that is in stone. I'll have to do a conversion and find out. (That converts to 15 stone. Not so sure, I wanted to know that.)

10.45 a.m. I had intended to take Alfie out at around 10.15. We went out through the side door into Strudwick Drive and immediately outside was a 'men at work' sign in the middle of the path (you could hardly miss it. I think you would probably trip over it.) Looking towards Oldbrook Green, I could see a large tractor parked on the grass and two workmen in day-glow yellow suits, discussing cutting the hedge (which I had thought was due for a trim at some stage.) I had heard a strange sound, a sort of mechanical hum, earlier, so it may have been the cutter making the noise. As I write this, I can hear nothing, so perhaps the machinery needed repairs or adjusting to cut the hedge. Maybe it will be done later. Anyway, we didn't walk any further and returned to the flat.

4.25 p.m. I have done a bit more writing. I have been working on this particular sequence for quite a while and it has gone through several drafts. I get some of the dialogue in my head, and it seems to go round and round until I manage to actually get it down on paper. I find I get most ideas when laying on my bed and sometimes when I'm out walking with Alfie. It's said that Charles Dickens would go on long walks and it was at these times he got the inspiration for his writing, so I can see why and how this would work. This bit of writing is now on word processing and saved onto a memory stick. The only problem I have with memory sticks is that they are so small and easily mislaid. The one I have is so tiny it is easily lost. I have three in a plastic box SOMEWHERE in the flat and I can't find them.

Tuesday. 7.35 a.m. I wasn't expecting rain when we went out early. Alfie not over-keen on remaining outside and more than happy to rush back to the warmth and comfort of the flat. I think he's currently tucked up within the confines of the duvet on my bed! Who can blame him?

Another Week (So, What's New?)

Monday 9.40 a.m. It continues to be relatively fine but chilly. It's that time of year when you never know whether to wear a coat or leave it at home. I suppose it's the transition from summer into autumn. Not just a coat, but also an umbrella. Unfortunately, I'm hopeless with umbrellas. I either leave them somewhere or other, get the thing caught in something, like an overhanging branch of a tree, stuck in a sliding door or there's a gust of wind, and it gets blown inside out. How many umbrellas have I seen on my walks around Oldbrook Green, the wrecks of such instruments which have become torn from their user's grasp by a sudden blast?

Driving towards Camphill was crazy. Crossing the roundabout along Chaffron Way which intersects with Marlborough Street can be somewhat hairy, to say the least. It can be somewhat tricky as you can't see vehicles coming around one side and then all the way along Chaffron Way towards the roundabout at Brickhill Street it's a fairly straight run, but in the opposite lane the traffic is stationary, more or less nose-to-tail. There are two more roundabouts, one at Childs Way and the last, Portway, which is the busiest of the lot before I can reach the car park at Camphill.

As with more or less everything which happens in the theatre workshop, the day began with a 'check-in', which is when everyone involved put the chairs into a circle and each person talks about their day, what they have been doing and how they are feeling.

Some drama games were played, some of which I got involved in. One, called EastEnders, is a game based on the infamous BBC soap. I'm not altogether sure of the rules, but everyone stands in a circle, and you start off shouting 'Oi!' at the next person in the circle, and this gets passed around until someone says another phrase (I can't remember this phrase.) Then someone says 'get out of my pub!' or 'You're not my mother!' (all based on incidents in the soap.) It's quite noisy, as you can imagine, but it gets everyone working. The basic idea is to get people who generally have a problem with communicating and, can have a problem with speech, to boost their confidence and increase the power of their voices. It's certainly a good way to get the group to communicate. I'm not so sure if it's something I'm overconfident with, but mostly, for me, it's learning the rules! It's just great to be back at Camphill on a Tuesday and out of the flat for most of the day.

Terri, who is the new drama leader, has started the guys off on rehearsing and devising a panto version of Shakespeare's play 'Twelfth Night.' The guys have their characters and are working on developing their characters. Terri goes through the text of the play and then adapts the Shakespeare lines into something the gang can speak. Some of the scenes are very funny and I can't wait to see how it all develops.

Tuesday. 7.10 a.m. I could hear the wind in the middle of the night. It sounded very powerful and possibly enough to cause quite a bit of damage, with trees being torn down and branches falling. As I write this, it's a good deal calmer, but, when I took Alfie out we had to contend with rain which we weren't expecting.

I was cold when I woke earlier in the night, so I had to put on the much thicker duvet which is kept in the wardrobe. I will need to put in the duvet cover and change my bedding as a result of all this. Not actually one job I enjoy.

1.15 p.m. I have changed the bedding for the thicker, winter, duvet, which was a real effort. Why is this job so difficult? It's easy if you know the trick of putting corners to corners, the corners of the duvet to the corners of the cover. The buttons which do up are a pain, but it's worthwhile and done for a while.

Wednesday. 6.45 a.m. It appears to be a good deal calmer this morning. I can't hear the roaring wind like I did the other night when I woke up. I did one circuit of Oldbrook Green at around 7 o'clock as it was a good deal lighter by then. I don't think Alfie appreciated the walk and came back indoors and went to sleep on my bed.

Thursday. 7.20 a.m. Another totally untypical November morning. It's incredibly mild, with very little wind and no sign of rain.

Friday. 6.25 p.m. Not a lot has happened today. Well, that's life at Dexter House for you. If you want to vegetate, then you can just sit in your flat and bore yourself stupid with daytime television. (There can't possibly be many more programmes about selling antiques or houses that an intelligent person can take, surely? I think 'Homes Under The Hammer' really needs scrapping.) There is a Wednesday afternoon tea-and-biscuits get-together (for want of a name for it.) But it's really not my idea of fun. Attempted to get some sort of conversation going at the first one, but it was a bit like banging my head against a brick wall.

I have joined the Buckingham branch of the Historical Association, which I heard about when I went to the archaeological conference two weeks ago. I am booked for several Zoom lectures as a result of this membership and one Zoom call in December on Capability Brown in Bedfordshire.

Wet and Windy Weather

Thursday. 7.35 a.m. I could hear the rain and the wind during the night. As I write this, it's a good deal calmer, but when I took Alfie out, it was raining. 

Friday. 6.00 a.m. Where did yesterday go? Is that really all I wrote? Just one and a half lines? Well, let's see what today brings.

It's freezing and miserable, and I can hear the wind howling around the building.

12.15 p.m. You may recall, that is, if you read my blog posts regularly, that I bought a shelf unit from Amazon and then constructed it, the intention being that it would go in the pantry cupboard (for want of a better name for it.) and then it would be used to store a lot of cooking materials which wouldn't fit in the newly-fitted kitchen cupboards. The things that were removed from the old kitchen cupboards before the workmen did the work on the kitchen at the beginning of July (I can't now believe it's that long ago that the work was done.) have been stored in a variety of boxes and bags on the floor of my bedroom. I cleared out the collection of boxes that were used to deliver things from Amazon and have been cluttering up the pantry cupboard and could have been taken to the tidy-tip in Bleak Hall. But I thought of an alternative way to dispose of them: to break up the boxes and put the pieces in recycling bags which can be taken away by the dustman on their weekly visits to Dexter House. I began this around 7 o'clock this morning, as it seemed a good idea to get them out of the way. Now done and taken to the bin storage area. The shelf unit is now in place in the pantry cupboard and a lot of extraneous stuff taken out and will be sorted through and stuff selected for either keeping or disposal in some way or the other. So, as you can imagine, I'm very pleased to have done the work and the results seem very good. Now I can begin the job of sorting out the remainder of the stuff in my bedroom and then put it on the new shelf unit.

2.30 p.m. I have steam-mopped the kitchen floor. I haven't done it in ages, and it now looks spotless. The Vax steam mop is really efficient and far better than using an unhygienic mop and bucket. It dries so much quicker and you don't have to deal with a smelly mop and then empty the dirty water out.

Saturday. 7.00 p.m. I've been sorting out some of the stuff which has been parked in my bedroom. Quite a lot has made its way onto the new shelving unit, although some of this stuff has been binned as it has gone past its 'best before or 'sell by dates. 

There's not much else to report, except I have started watching the first film in the 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy, 'The Fellowship of The Ring' which I have been meaning to watch as I'm something of a Tolkien fan. I must have read the books at least four times, probably reading the entire trilogy at least once every decade since the 1970s, and recall reading it when I was an A.S.M. at Liverpool Playhouse in 1971. I had a paperback edition and have owned the trilogy in various editions over the years, but don't have any of them now. The Peter Jackson films really do the books complete justice and are more than satisfying, more or less achieve the impossible and the whole look and feel of all three films portray the characters more or less how I imagined them to be. Ian McKellen as Gandalf was born to play the part, and the CGI work on Gollum is brilliant.

Sunday. 3.05 p.m. A very mixed sort of day on the weather front today. It has been raining this afternoon but then the sun came out, and I managed to get to my target of 10,000 steps, recorded on my Fitbit. That's around 5 miles, which is a good amount of steps. 

A Fun-Packed Week!?

Monday. 1.30 p.m. I'm now working on the next stage of my writing. I have a vague outline of how things will move on, but then I drive off-road and across the country to take a diversion (sorry for the mixed metaphor. I'm not entirely sure whether that is.) Story lining is something like a journey. It's a road full of pitfalls, bends, diversions and hills and valleys. A bit like life.

10.00 p.m. It's pouring with rain as I write this. Alfie had an emergency call to go out, and I had to dress to take him out, without any sort of raincoat for either of us. 

Prayer is powerful! On Sunday, Ross, our pastor, prayed that it would rain this evening because it's Halloween. If it rained, it would deter children from going out trick-or-treating. Sure enough, it rained! Halloween is not something Christians should get involved in.

Tuesday. 5.55 a.m. It's been raining all night and there seems to have been quite a strong wind. It was that which woke me up, hence putting my fingers on the keyboard and writing this.

4.40 p.m. I have just returned from Camphill. I arrived around 8.45 a.m. Because the traffic can be quite heavy, and I don't like being late, I always leave Dexter House a good deal earlier than I would at any other time of day. I walked the short distance to the Chrysalis Theatre and when I walked through the front door I found some of the gang, some of which were dressed smartly in suits and ties. I wasn't sure what this was about but soon learnt that it was connected to the Tree Of Trees project which was part of H.M. Queen's Platinum Jubilee. The whole thing was about the planting of a tree, which was part of the amazing celebrations for The Queen's 70 years on the throne. It was a tree-like structure, designed by the Heatherwick Studios, and made up of 350 tree saplings, which were in metal containers and the 'tree' constructed from recycled metal. These small trees have been distributed to charities all around Britain and one of them had been assigned to Camphill in Milton Keynes. The day was to consist of a presentation by the CEO of Camphill for a number of dignitaries, including the Mayor of Milton Keynes, Lady Howe, Lieutenant of Buckinghamshire (who is the Monarch's representative in Buckinghamshire.) as well as Martha Kearney, presenter of the BBC Radio Four programme 'Today' and is a patron of Camphill Milton Keynes, along with the trustees of the charity which runs Camphill. 

The guys were instructed to be greeters to the guests and I was to be a greeter at the entrance with one of the guys, Matthew. Then, as the guests arrived, they were offered tea or coffee and, to be ushered into the main auditorium where the presentation was to be delivered. Unfortunately, Martha Kearney sent a message to say that she would be late as she was caught in a traffic hold-up on the M1, so, by the time she arrived, the entire schedule for the event was put out by around 45 minutes. 

Eventually, the presentation began and once it had been completed, the guests went out into the garden area near the Chrysalis Theatre for the tree planting and once that was over, photographs were taken. Quite a momentous occasion and no doubt be will long be remembered by the residents of Camphill and they were talking about it when everyone had left.

Before lunch, we did some drama exercises, and we had lunch and when we got back there was the usual session of each person telling what they had been doing eventually we did some work on the next production which is a version of Twelfth Night but adapted into a pantomime. I can't wait to see how this develops.

6.20 p.m. I had my evening meal a good deal later than usual. I had chicken tikka and I'm waiting for my apple and blackberry pie to cook. It takes 30 minutes to cook and I will make custard. 

It has been very windy today. Fortunately no rain. But the wind was strong enough to knock you off your feet. 

8.00 p.m. I said there hadn't been any rain today. Well, as I write this, it's really raining quite heavily. Just as well Alfie doesn't need to go out, as he would not like it. He is currently tucked up in his bed and, as far as I can tell, he's fast asleep. The wind is howling around the building, so it must be really unpleasant outside at the moment.

Unblocking Writing (and Other Matters)

Thursday. 2.15 p.m. I have just received an email from Camphill, informing me that I can return to working in the theatre workshop. Until my DBS goes through thoroughly, I can't work one-to-one with any group, but I can work 'under supervision.' I understand why this is, because they belong to a 'vulnerable group', under safeguarding. If I was to work there without them checking my DBS (Disclosure and Barring) and the CQC (Care Quality Commission) were to do an inspection and found I didn't have a disclosure certificate, Camphill would be in trouble, I can see why all this has taken so long.

Friday. 8.10 a.m. A bit of a rush to get Alfie out and then put my washing into the machine at around 7.45 a.m. I'm actually scheduled to load my laundry at 8 a.m., but I don't see why I have to wait ten minutes to do so. It's dark outside until at least 7.30, and it's quite difficult to see what you're doing, picking up after Alfie and then walking to the bin which is across Oldbrook Boulevard and on The Green. I don't know why they can't put a bin a bit closer but never mind.

Saturday. 8.05 a.m. I was under the impression that it was raining earlier. So, I was relieved to find, on taking Alfie out, that it wasn't raining. I think there was a distinct possibility that it had been raining overnight, as the leaves which are on the grass alongside Strudwick Drive were wet.

1.30 p.m. It's now bright sunshine outside (well, it's not inside) because if it was, there's probably be no roof over my flat. Oh, what an absurd thing to say! Never mind, it's the effect of being incarcerated in this place. 

Sunday. 7.15 a.m. The clocks have changed. I haven't had the fabled extra 'hour in bed' which is what we always get told everywhere, on television news, in papers and generally. Because it was relatively light (does that make sense? I don't know. What does it matter? I mean 'reasonably' light, enough to be able to see what I was doing.) I took Alfie out.

9.00 a.m. I suddenly got the urge to do some more writing. This often happens, I get a bout of creativity and manage to write several pages and then I get stuck (writer's block?) and then leave it for a while, and then I pick it up again and continue. This current sequence has been through several drafts, and this time I think I've got it how I want it. I have discovered if I write from a different angle, things are easier to write. Or else I have what they have 'reported speech', whereby some important event happens 'off-stage' and a character describes whatever it is. Shakespeare does this a lot, particularly when it's something like a battle, which is difficult to put on stage. It also means you can have 'off-stage' characters who don't actually appear 'centre stage' which rounds out the story without the need for extra characters. Alan Ayckbourn does this and quite often has characters 'off-stage.' This, in particular in one of his best plays 'Absurd Person Singular' is set in three kitchens over three successive Christmases, with parties going on 'off-stage' and never actually seen.

2.05 p.m. After church this afternoon, we had a church member's meeting. The budget for the year was approved and one or two other matters were raised. Just as the meeting was coming to a close, the heavens opened and it rained, quite a torrential downpour, which made driving back to Dexter House along Chaffron Way quite challenging, to say the least. Some drivers didn't have their lights on, which was somewhat foolhardy. I had Classic FM on the car radio as usual and Beethoven's 7th Symphony blaring out as I was driving and, with the torrential rain, the whole was made even more dramatic with such powerful orchestral music playing. I love Classic FM, but it has too many advertisements on it, probably because it has grown it's an audience and once that happens, then it's bound to attract more advertising.

6.05 p.m. Another creative spurt, although the sequence I'm writing isn't finished. I will transcribe it all into word processing. I'm more than happy with what I've written. That's not always the case. I write something and then leave it for a couple of weeks and then return to it and, on re-reading it, I find it's not working how I want it to go and end up completely rewriting it. In the end, it's the best way to write for me, because the various drafts can be altered as I go along.

Gridlocked!

Tuesday. 9.30 a.m. Yet another typical autumn day, sunny but chilly.

Alfie and I have been out and walked around Oldbrook Green. I'm shocked to see so much litter related to fireworks, which I could hear last night being let off. It seemed to go on for several hours and, looking at the rubbish, someone had spent a small fortune on them. No thought though, to take their rubbish away with them. The sign for Oldbrook Green (which is under the umbrella of Campbell Park Parish Council.) clearly states 'no fireworks'. I think it was more to do with Diwali rather than Guy Fawkes Night, but it's still a lot of noise and upsets animals. Alfie doesn't seem to take any notice, and then we have Halloween to contend with next Monday. I'd love to know who the people that left the rubbish expect to clear it up. There are plenty of bins around the Green, so why not place some of it there, or, at least, take it home with you.

2.35 p.m. For the last year or so (I think it may be longer, but I'm not sure exactly.) I have been having a weekly telephone call from someone who is a volunteer at Age UK. His name is David, and we have an hour's chat for around an hour. I have never met him, until today. I had thought some while ago that he should have my mobile number and possibly my email address because he rings me on my landline number. The last time he phoned last week he said that someone had suggested to him that we meet up for a coffee so I came up with some possible places to meet, one being Costa at the retail park in Bletchley (along with Pets At Home, which is where Alfie goes to have his regular haircut (sorry, but the term 'groom' has another, negative connotation these days, although not the same as dog-grooming.) It was strange meeting someone who you'd spoken to but never actually met. He said he knew what I looked like because when I emailed him, my photo came up, which I wasn't aware of. David was waiting outside Costa as I drew up in the car and then we went inside Costa. It was something of a shock to discover it virtually empty. I say this, because if you go to one of the two Costa branches in the central Milton Keynes shopping centre, at the end of the shopping centre opposite Marks and Spencer and the other, which is on Middleton Hall and near John Lewis, you will no doubt find each one busy and will have to queue. I have often glanced into each one before deciding whether to queue up and then often leave to find another place to eat and have coffee, such as Cafe Nero or Pret A Manger which are also in Middleton Hall. As I say, it was virtually empty of other customers and it didn't take long to order my latte and ham and cheese toastie.

We spent around two hours chatting and by one o'clock I thought it was time to return home. I know that the car park is likely to have around a two-hour limit on how long you can remain parked and if you're not careful you can be fined. They have cameras which record your car's registration number and from that, they can find your address, and then you get a lovely letter asking you to pay a hefty fine, which I really don't want.

It was well I came out of Costa when I did because the whole car park was clogged up with cars attempting to leave, and it took me some time to get out of my space. Not many drivers were willing to let me into the queue and the queue moved at a snail's pace towards the exit. It then took a good deal of time to get into the traffic on Bletcham Way and eventually onto the large roundabout, which was more than ever clogged up. I could not discover what had caused this chaos. Possibly either there had been an accident nearby, possibly on the A5 or M1, or it was the result of roadworks, which are currently ongoing throughout the Milton Keynes grid road system, much of it for resurfacing works.

Another Day Older!

Saturday. 7.30 a.m. Well, it's my birthday today! I'm not going to be in the flat all day. I'm going to Aylesbury, to an archaeology conference on the finds which have been made during the building of the HS2 rail line (High-Speed 2.) It should be fascinating. I just have to find the place where it's being held, as I don't know Aylesbury all that well. I shall put the postcode in my satnav and trust it will get me there.

Sunday. 1.50 p.m. An almighty rainstorm this morning, about the time I was due to leave in my car to get to church to set up chairs for the service at 10.30. I got somewhat soaked as I walked to the car, on a few yards, but the downpour left me wet, so I had to dry my glasses on a tissue before driving off.

I should have mentioned it yesterday. That is my trip to Aylesbury, to attend the archaeology conference which was held at The Gatehouse, which is part of Aylesbury Vale District Council. The actual conference was in what is called The Oculus. This is a stunning circular space which has wooden baffles on the walls to help deaden the sound. At first, when I walked in, I thought they were either some form of seating, folded up or even shelving of some sort. But it was obvious that they weren't for that use. The seats are obviously moveable and can be arranged in any sort of configuration, but yesterday they were facing the stage, such as it is (not in what I'd call a theatrical stage at any rate.) Although, saying that, I think it could well be used for theatre, and in particular, theatre-in-the-round, if the seating was reconfigured. 

It was actually easy enough finding The Oculus. I had a look at Google Maps, so I had a good idea of where it was. Also, my SatNav came in handy. I have to admit, once I had found the place where the conference was, I had to go round the block once and then went into the car park which was right next to The Gatehouse. Mind you, I made sure you didn't have to pay and asked whether the gate would be locked. It wasn't, but, knowing my luck, there was the possibility of being locked in or fined for not having the appropriate ticket attached to my car.

The archaeologists who have been employed to do the work on the various sites along the path of the HS2 rail line have now completed their work, they have all dispersed and, by now, are probably working on other projects, so this was the final chance to learn what had been found. We heard about farms and some really fine houses which have now been demolished as well as a church at Stoke Mandeville (St Mary's) which, after examination, showed that there had been activity there going back to the Iron Age, through the Roman period and up until the time the church was constructed and then demolished. There were a few other sites mentioned, one at Southam, which I drove through only the other month when I came home from Kenilworth Castle as well as another site fairly close to where we were at the conference, Fleet Marston, which is on the A41, the road we used to drive along on our way to Waddesdon Manor.

Monday. 9.50 p.m. I have been having problems with opening the door which leads out of Dexter House onto the path on Strudwick Drive. There has been a problem with it on another occasion. You have to push on the catch and it won't release the door. So, because our S.H.O., Barbara, isn't here today, I have rung Mears to inform them of the problem. As this would be an exit if there was a fire, it must work.

Yesterday evening we had an almighty thunderstorm and torrential rain. I heard the crash of thunder but wasn't sure whether it was actually thunder. There were noises of fireworks being let off also, so I did wonder if it was that, but no doubt the rain put those idiots off. Why do people think it's acceptable to let off fireworks like that? In a public space. It's not even November yet. Apart from anything else, it's a waste of money. There is a sign on Oldbrook Green that says, the use of fireworks on the green is not permitted, but, like dog fouling, what's the point of all these notices and by-laws, if they aren't policed?

I'm glad that Boris Johnson has withdrawn from the election (or whatever the process to elect a new Conservative leader and Prime Minister is called). I can't imagine how he thought he could just walk back into Number 10 as if nothing had happened, but now the field is clear for Rishi Sunak to take the pole position and get the keys to Number 10. No doubt there will be some sort of announcement regarding all this around 2 p.m.

2.15 p.m. It has just been announced that Rishi Sunak has been announced as Conservative leader and, hence, Prime Minister. Boris thingy withdrew and the only other remaining candidate, Penny Mordaunt' withdrew from the election just before 2 o'clock.