Small Dog, No Go

Wednesday. 6.30 a.m. Nothing much to report. I have been out and walked with Alfie around Oldbrook Green.

I turned on BBC Breakfast this morning and discovered that there had been yet another massacre at a school in America to my complete and utter horror. It just doesn't seem possible that the American people can allow this sort of thing to be repeated so many times and STILL not have any sort of legislation in place to prevent it from happening. In Britain, we have had similar incidents, but then our government has dealt with it by bringing in legislation to prevent it, or at least make it more difficult for a madman to run amuck in society and kill people. In America, it seems too easy to get hold of weapons without any sort of control, such as requiring a gun licence. They just don't seem to learn from this sort of incident. Why was the gunman allowed to even get into the school? Why no security? C.C.T.V. or gates and barriers to at least slow down a rampaging gunman to enter? I remember when Carol was working at Milton Keynes Academy, to get in you had to stop at the gate (that is, if you were driving in, as I did many times.) you had to press a key on the keypad and wait for the receptionist to answer and then you were let in and then, once, inside the building, you were seen on C.C.T.V. and if you needed to go beyond the reception area, you would be met by a staff member. 

3.00 p.m. I took Alfie out mid-morning and as soon as I put my foot out through the door, I was almost sent flying by an idiot on one of those confounded electric scooters. I never heard it approaching. No noise, no warning or anything. I dread to think what sort of injury I would have received if I had been in the middle of the path. They never slow down and expect you to move out of the way for them. These things should be regulated and the operator/drivers should have insurance and wear a helmet. Then I saw one being ridden on the road, which is crazy because they don't have any sort of protection if they were run into by a motorized vehicle. Just an accident waiting to happen. Goodness knows what it must be like for people with poor eyesight or no eyesight or someone in a wheelchair or with poor mobility.

Thursday. 5.30 a.m. Today would have been Carol and my 15th wedding anniversary. I won't say any more about it on here.

Alfie and I went out at around 5.25 this morning. It was light, and I could hear the birdies singing, so it seemed a good idea. I don't lounge around in bed, as you probably realize.

1.55 p.m. I've been to the Oaktree Centre this morning to help set up and pack away for the playgroup that meets every week. Then I was invited to a Bible study and was the only man amongst about eight women. It didn't matter and then afterwards I helped pack the gear away after the playgroup.

The excitement doesn't get much better. Well, it might or it might not. They're going to plant a . . . wait for it, wait for it. . . . Make sure you're sitting down. . . . A Jubilee rose bush! Just think of it. It doesn't get much better. Sorry for being sarcastic, but do you honestly think we could live without this? Why on earth a ROSE bush? Why not a grand piano, or even a day out at the seaside? I had to stifle a guffaw when I heard. Who is going to plant it? Will it be bug-free? Will the slugs and snails nibble on it?

Friday. 5.25 a.m. I was out with Alfie at 5.10 this morning! How much earlier can I get out and walk around Oldbrook Green? I think I totally took Alfie by surprise when I picked him up off my bed where he had been snoozing.

So, this is the day I get to leave Fogeyville and drive to Worcester, not forgetting taking Alfie across Milton Keynes to be cared for by Whitney who has kindly volunteered to take care of him this long weekend. I'd partially packed up and organised and will start putting things in the car, which is already fuelled and ready for the off!

Later. I have to report that my trip to Worcester was cancelled. I drove to Wolverton Mill, where Whitney lives. She was going to look after Alfie for the weekend. I parked as close to her flat as possible and then unloaded Alfie and took him into her flat. But once I left him with Whitney, Alfie wouldn't stop barking and was distressed when I left him. There was no way I could leave him in distress and also I think Whitney was somewhat distressed. I wasn't expecting this situation. I really imagined I would be able to leave him and then drive away. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen. I think it's because he has latched onto me and we've been locked down together for two years due to the pandemic as well as just having me around since Carol passed away. I'm not sure how to overcome this situation so I can go to Worcester without him. If anyone has any ideas, please let me know.

As a result of going to Worcester, I hadn't stocked up with enough food for the weekend. I didn't have anything for the usual evening meal, so I ordered a rather tasty Thai green curry through Deliveroo, which I have never used before. The app has been on my iPad for a while, but I hadn't used it before. But we were back to the situation of the delivery driver not knowing where to deliver to. I had put on the order, to make sure the driver delivered to my flat in Dexter House, but I got a call from the driver as he couldn't find the flat. Even with a huge new sign outside! I'll say no more about this, but it is annoying.

Saturday. 6.20 a.m. Once again, Alfie and I were out bright and early. This time about 5.10. A chilly but bright and sunny morning. What more can I say? These reports are getting a bit repetitive.

Fun With Dick and Jane

Sunday. 4.40 p.m. So, here I am, on a Sunday afternoon. Nothing much to do except read, take Alfie for a walk, and peel potatoes for my evening meal. (Pork chops, roast potatoes and broccoli, if you must ask.) A bit like the Hancock's Half-Hour 'Sunday Afternoon At Home'.' Virtually nothing happens. Hancock moans and complains about the fact it's raining, Miss Pugh (his secretary, played by Hattie Jacques) has cooked lunch and Hancock complains about her gravy. It's obviously very thick and the fact that it doesn't move! A brilliant bit of scriptwriting by Galton and Simpson.  The ability to write about virtually nothing is a real art, and it brings out the various characters' little foibles. I have heard this episode many times and it's just as funny each time I hear it.

As I write this, the fire alarm has gone off. I have shut the lounge door as the alarm goes off in the entrance hall, and you can't hear yourself think with the confounded alarm. Alfie doesn't like loud noises, which is why he's laying near the door. A fire engine has arrived and is parked outside. Along with a police car. Hope they arrest the idiot who has set the alarm off (just hope it's not me as I have only just put the potatoes into roast. Perhaps they should charge £25 for each call-0ut, which is a sort of false alarm, which might make people a bit more careful. Just hope they manage to turn the alarm off soon as it's difficult to think properly.

The alarm stopped after around twenty minutes, by which time my ears were ringing. But it was such a relief! I just wish people would learn to cook, smoke or whatever, without setting off the fire alarms. Perhaps they had forgotten to take out toast from their toaster or left something in the oven which burnt. Whatever it was, it caused an annoyance.

Monday. 5.40 a.m. Alfie and I were out at 5.15. I'm not going to stay indoors when it's light and there's no rain. No sign of foxes, but one can hope to see one or two at some stage if you get up early enough. I have my electric fan on in my bedroom as it's already hot in the flat. Just crazy. 

Why did I choose the title for this blog post? I have no idea, but I suppose it reflects life at Dexter House.  It's all bingo and , jelly, gardening and more bingo. The fun of it is too much, nothing more and nothing less. That may be for some who live here, but not for me.

I am currently doing checks on my car before going to Worcester. I forgot how to open the bonnet, so I went on Google and, hey presto! It's easy. It's not a thing I do regularly, as the car was serviced in November and had an oil change. The oil level seems fine but now I need to check the tyre pressure, not a job I actually relish, but it must be done. I think I will do it the next time I top the car up with diesel.

10.55 a.m. I have been to the Shell filling station in Grafton Street to fill the car up with diesel. You have to move quite a long way forward otherwise you can't get the hose to reach the filler on my car and I have to remember that the filler is on the driver's side. I pad in the kiosk and got two £1 coins to operate the airline. A car was already using the airline so I waited near the pumps and then moved the car to the area which had the airline in it. It took me a while to discover where you put your coins to start the machine, It's not very well-marked. Then I pulled out the hose to start the job of putting air in each of the four tyres. It's a messy business and I got a black mess on my hands from the tyres and undid each of the caps on the tyres. Then I had to wrestle with the hose, which keeps wanting to rewind itself back into the machine, so you have to put one foot on it to stop it, this manoeuvre is rather like wrestling with a snake. It was at this point that I think it's somewhat like a scene from a television comedy and could imagine Rowan Atkinson's character Mr Bean attempting to deal with the hose and getting himself into a terrible but hilarious situation. Anyway, having dealt with these things the car is now ready for my journey to Worcester on Friday afternoon.

Tuesday. 6.00 a.m. Here we are again! Alfie and I were out at 5.15 this morning. A slight chill in the air and, according to the BBC Breakfast weather forecast, a likelihood of rain later today.

Here We Go Again

Friday. 10.25 p.m. I've just come back from the Oaktree Centre. We had a quiz evening. It's just great to be able to have this type of event after the confounded lockdowns restricted everything. There were around eight teams and my team won! After the first round we were at the bottom, so it was great that we managed to win. We won a bucket (!) with smaller items, such as single-serving bottles of wine and chocolates. I got a bottle of wine. There was also the famous (or probably, more likely, infamous) 'Roll-A-Coin' game. Prizes are laid out at one end of the room, things such as bottles of wine, chocolates, candles and other things, and you stand some distance from the items and you rolled a pound coin at the items. If your coin hit an item, you win it!  As the whole idea of the evening was to raise money for the building of phase two of the completion of the Oaktree Centre, it was very successful. Anyway, I managed to win a bottle of wine.

Another 10,000 steps were done according to FitBit. I looked at it as I came through the door, and it rolled over to 10,000 at that precise moment.

Saturday. 6.45 a.m. I was up, dressed and out with Alfie at 5.20 a.m. It is, as I write this, overcast, but dry and relatively mild. We did a circuit of Oldbrook Green, and then I drove to Oakgrove to take some cash out of the cash machine outside the Metro Bank next door to Waitrose. I am going to the men's breakfast at the Fountain in Loughton and we will have breakfast there, which means I don't have to cook. Good fellowship and excellent time together. We last met a few months ago, and I must have mentioned it in these blog posts.

12.25 p.m. I've been to the men's breakfast at The Fountain in Loughton. We've met there before. People arrived just as I drew into the car park, and then we went inside the pub. We had the same set-up as last time, several tables pushed together in the same part of the restaurant area. Around 15 people and some people came in late. I ordered a cooked breakfast, and it was great to fellowship with others from SCF.

From there I drove to Sainsbury's to get a few items and then home. I think Alfie was somewhat bemused that he hadn't been able to come with me.

In Sainsbury's, I used one of the self-service tills. Why do I always have a problem with these things? Whatever you do, however careful you scan each item and put it in the correct place, the thing will inevitably stop functioning and a horrible electronic voice will scream at you so everyone in the vicinity hears that you've messed up yet again! Can they just cut that voice? So, a staff member comes to help and you feel such an idiot that feel you're incapable of doing the most simple of tasks.

Sunday. 6.10 a.m. I was out around 5.20 this morning. Good gracious! Whatever next? Lounging around in bed? Not me. I then had a real surprise. As we started walking towards Oldbrook Green I saw a fox standing on the surrounding path a hundred yards ahead of us. It stood and stared at us for about twenty seconds and then turned and went into the bushes that fill the area between the Dexter House garden and the next unit, SIA (Spine Injury Association.) Something of a shock and a real surprise. We did a circuit of Oldbrook Green, which Alfie wasn't keen on and tried to take us home, but I refused. Well, he can just snuggle back into bed or lie on the sofa. But I insisted. Then, on arriving back in the flat, I was washing up in the kitchen and I saw the fox in the garden below my window. It even lay on the grass and seemed to be having a great time.

Watching TV Drama

As you may have realized if you read my posts on here regularly, I am somewhat passionate about good drama, literature and storytelling in general. I think it was born out of watching television adaptations of such writers as Charles Dickens in the 1960s. BBC television was always doing these multi-episode adaptations of his novels, which were shown at teatime on a Sunday. I remember being scared witless by the opening scenes of a teatime version of 'Great Expectations' when Pip encounters the escaped convict Magwitch on the Kent marshes. I suppose I would have been the same age as the character Pip, where I was far more scared than he was. But it just goes to show how effective a television, or, come to that, a film version of a novel can be. In those far-gone days, we had a wide range of television drama output, including the 'Wednesday Play' which later became, 'Play For Today', which had plays written by an amazing list of writers such as Alan Plater, Dennis Potter, Mike Leigh, Jeremy Sandford and Colin Welland. These were one-off productions, usually about social problems, probably the best known being 'Kathy Come Home,' about a couple who have to cope with homelessness and which had such an effect that it was responsible for the setting up of the charity 'Shelter.' Other plays which have a life away from the television screen would be 'Abigails Party' by Mike Leigh and starring his then wife, Alison Steadman.  The John Mortimer play 'A Voyage Round My Father,' which I worked on as an A.S.M. at Greenwich Theatre in the early 1970s, started life as a 'Wednesday Play', and with the same director and some of the actors in it.

We seem to have lost a lot in the mad dash to have a multichannel landscape in the digital age in which we live. You can have 24-hour television viewing, with channels specializing in virtually any subject, from DIY, antiques, cookery, natural history, sport and more subjects than you can possibly think of. But what I am attempting to get at is that the content is watered down. In the sixties and seventies we only had three television channels here in Britain, BBC 1, BBC 2 and ITV. Channel 4 came on the air in 1982 and it wasn't until cable came along in possibly the 1990s and then Sky in the 1980s that things began to go somewhat crazy.

It was what drew me towards a possible career in television production. 

Is It A Wonderful Life?

Thursday. 7.45 a.m. Out a bit after 5.30 a.m., basically because I woke up and then immediately went back to sleep. Not such a good idea, but we did a circuit of Oldbrook Green as I am determined to get back to doing at least 10,000 steps. The FitBit is a good motivator, particularly as you get a weekly report emailed to your inbox every week. According to that, I am not doing as many steps as I have done previously. 

I am attempting to do more recording, using the MacBook Pro. I am doing various well-known poems, but making sure they are well out of copyright. Such pieces as 'The Hunting of The Snark', 'Matilda,' (No, not the Roald Dahl story, but the one about the girl who couldn't stop telling lies.) It has to be one of my favourites. I have already got one uploaded onto Soundcloud, so let's see what else I can record and upload. I have found that this flat has good acoustics for recording, thankfully, but I think I will have to wait until the workmen have finished around Dexter House. I don't want banging and crashing noises in the background of my recordings. I don't know if the microphone will pick it up, but for me, it's very distracting.

4.00 p.m. We still have workmen banking and crashing all over Dexter House. I think they are upgrading the doors between the different areas along the corridors. It's just noisy, and it will be great when it is completed. Would be better if they used rubber hammers.

I'm going to Worcester next weekend, but Alfie isn't coming with me. It's very difficult to concentrate on the grandchildren or have a decent conversation with Chloe and Steve because Alfie takes over, barking and generally wanting attention all the time. It was difficult when I went there at Christmas, and even with him corralled in the utility room with a childproof gate installed so he couldn't get out, he still made a lot of noise. I think most of this is because we've been on lockdown together for two years, and he's had me to himself and he's become more determined to get my attention. So, I wanted to find someone to look after him for the duration of my time away. I eventually got an email put out from church and someone came forward and I took Alfie to meet her this evening. I have written a sort of care plan, giving details of his needs and requirements, as well as his quirks. So he will be taken there next Friday and I can drive to Worcester on my own. Mind you, it will be strange not having him around, but certainly, be good to have time to relax without being barked at!

Friday. 6.20 a.m. A rather overcast morning, but it's still warm here in Milton Keynes. Alfie and did a circuit of Oldbrook Green.

8.10 a.m. We now have a second replacement washing machine! Oh, the excitement-not! I went to do a load of washing and found the new machine in place, but I had absolutely no idea how to operate it. It has a digital touch-screen, but I was wary of the wrong setting, and as a result, possibly ruining my clothes by setting the wrong temperature, so I had to ask Barbara to show me. The first setting was for an hour, but I wanted a shorter programme, and it was set for 20 minutes. I just don't want to have to wait an hour before I can unload the machine and put everything in the tumble drier.

10.25 a.m. A man has been to my flat to do a survey for asbestos, which is being done as a preliminary for a new kitchen to be fitted. So, hopefully, and I definitely mean hopefully, if all goes according to plan, I should get a shiny new fitted kitchen. The floor leaves a lot to be desired, as there is an area where the tiles are coming up and is, frankly, a trip hazard. Let's just hold our breath until I get some sort of notification that work is going to be done. Well, if other people within Dexter House have had their kitchens done, I think I can safely say that I can't be too far up the list to have mine done. Then, possibly, hopefully, they might come and sort out my bathroom.

Once the man had finished doing the survey of the flat, I took Alfie out. It has been raining, but hardly a heavy downpour, but, nevertheless, we got a bit of a wetting.

Barbarians At The Gates!

 Tuesday.11.50 a.m. Today is the 16th anniversary of my first heart attack in 2006. Probably not something I am going to forget, and most of the details are permanently etched on my mind, as you might imagine.

At last! The workmen have arrived and are currently tearing out the old door. Generally vandalizing the whole entrance to the flat. Never mind, it won't take long. I have had to keep Alfie and myself firmly inprisoned in the lounge, with the door closed. Alfie is currently watching the goings-on with interest, but I prefer it that way, because if he gets out, goodness knows what he would do. I think it's because he likes his routine and doesn't like change.

2.45 p.m. The door is in place. They have done the surrounds, including a glass panel. A good deal narrower than the old window. Now all that remains is a lock and catch, and thankfully it will be completely finished very soon.

4.20 p.m. The door is finished! All the sawdust and rubbish has gone. I was given a demonstration of the lock. They have to replace the glass in the side window, which has a rather nasty crack in it, but apart from that, it's done and definitely better than the old door. The workman is coming back to oil the surrounds of the door because it's raw timber and hasn't been painted and oil will preserve the timber and change the colour somewhat.

Wednesday. 6.25 a.m. It's a bright and sunny morning and we've been out as usual. Good start to the day.

I emailed Camphill yesterday, asking whether they still have to use face masks. I got a response, yes, at the moment, they are following current guidelines, but they may stop using them soon. I hope so because I miss going there, and I had built up such good relationships with the guys and gals. Not only that, but I just can't work for around 6 hours with a face covering on as it's unpleasant, makes my face hot, and you can't communicate properly. I'll just have to wait for the clearance before I can return. Just have to wait and see.

10.10 a.m. Some kindly soul has very thoughtfully broken some glass along the path Alfie and I traverse as we approach the crossing onto Oldbrook Green. I mention this ironically because broken glass is dangerous to both humans and dogs. I have avoided it several times as we've gone back and forth along this stretch of path, so I have avoided it by walking along the grass. But this morning I decided to clear it up and took out my broom, dustpan and brush and a box and spent some time sweeping it up. I managed to collect most of it, but there are still very small shards of glass left, unfortunately, because some of it is very difficult to see and these tiny pieces are the ones that can cause the most damage, probably causing punctures to the tyres of bicycles and could cause real problems if they got into the paws of a dog who walks past. I think, but I'm not entirely sure, but I think this glass came originally from The Cricketers' pub which is over the road directly opposite where the broken glass was. I'm not blaming the publican or any of the staff, but possibly some customers came out with bottles of alcohol and drank it outside and then these bottles got broken when they smashed on the paving slabs which make up the path. They could at least have spent time and effort clearing it up, which wouldn't have taken them long. Just shows the selfishness of some people, who obviously don't think their actions have any consequences, such as puncturing bicycle tyres or injuring a dog.

2.45 p.n. Great as it is to have the front door of my flat replaced (and it is better generally.), I am finding it frustrating entering and leaving because the lock is such that you have to turn the key in different directions before it will open the door. It's not logical, to my way of thinking. I am confident that I will eventually get used to it, but it is incredibly annoying.

Once More Unto The Breach!

Sunday. 6.00 a.m. A really warm and sunny day yesterday, but this morning I was somewhat surprised to find it considerably cooler and raining when I took Alfie out at around 5.20. 

Before you ask, no, I didn't watch the Eurovision Song Contest. It was great that Ukraine won, but I think it was more because of support for this war-torn country. Britain coming second was amazing, considering how poorly we've done over the past few years. Russia had been kicked out because of their invasion of Ukraine. A good job too, the way they're behaving to their neighbour. I have to say Eurovision isn't my sort of thing, as generally the music is just plain awful and the whole thing, which takes hours and hours, is one yawn as far as I'm concerned. Carol and I used to record the whole shebang, and then play it back, skipping out the long-drawn-out bits. Generally, it's become far too political, not helped because of the result of the 2016 EU vote, where Britain voted to leave. 

11.30 p.m. I'm wide awake. The same old thing had to go to the loo and lay awake. Somewhere, in one of the nearby flats, there's a radio or something on, chattering voices. I'm not sure exactly, as I've heard it before, not loud, but still in the background. Strange, as if it was radio, there would be occasional music, like in commercials, or between programmes. It's continual. Still a mystery. Then, it starts to rain, a heavy storm, which has finished as I write this but still sounds quite heavy. No doubt there will be flooding when I go out early in the morning, no doubt puddles all the way along Strudwick Drive. 

I'd better shut down the MacBook, go back to bed, and try to get back to sleep. Not going to happen, so I think I might read.

Trying to come up with a half-decent title for a blog post is quite difficult. It needs to relate to the content of the post, which isn't always easy. Punchy, eye-catching. I don't know exactly why I chose this title, which comes from Henry V, by William Shakespeare.

Monday. 5.40 a.m. I'm up bright and early and have already taken Alfie out. A light rain. 

I'm watching the ITV drama, The Thief, His Wife and The Canoe. Excellent series and certainly gripping. How long can they keep the pretence that the husband, played by Eddie Marsan, going before the whole house of cards collapses? Faking his own death and then coming back to live in the house next door and then his wife making a claim on his life insurance to pay off their debts. Based on a real incident from the early 2000s. I think the 'edge of the seat' part of it, is what keeps you watching to find out what happens next. Brilliant. But why does his wife go along with it? If she was to refuse to cooperate, they would have escaped being done for fraud.

10.20 a.m. Just been to Sainsbury's to do a top-up of one or two items.

Workmen gradually getting nearer to my flat to install a new door. They are scheduled to replace mine tomorrow, so I think I will just have to grin and bear the noise for a day until it is complete. There is no way I'm exposing my flat to any sort of theft, what with the various items, including this MacBook Pro. 

7.00 p.m. I went out with Alfie around 1.20p.m. As we came out of the door onto the path alongside Strudwick Drive, I noticed a police car parked in the middle of the road at the entrance of the roundabout at the intersection of Strudwick Drive and Dexter Avenue. It had its blue lights flashing and then I could see a breakdown truck loading up what looked like some sort of sports car and further along, yet another police car. It wasn't clear what had happened, whether there had been a collision with another vehicle, but no sign of one and the road coned off, Then one of the breakdown crew started pouring what looked like some sort of powder onto the road surface. Probably there had been a fuel or oil spill and this was to soak it up. I didn't stop too long to find out what had happened as we walked in the opposite direction along the path towards Oldbrook Green.

Well-Worn Phrases

There are some phrases and expressions that get used relentlessly and, after a while, don't have any real value as they just become clichés and hackneyed. I mean, 'at the end of the day' is one and 'in my humble opinion', 'with due respect' and probably 'time and time again.' One of my aunts was always saying, 'with due respect,' and I was with her and my mother one afternoon, and every time she used the phrase, my mother and I used to crease up with laughter, but my aunt was unaware. I suppose, on reflection, when was unaware she was over-using the phrase.  I don't think some people realize that they over-use these phrases. They just become rather like part of the fabric of their language and become very worn and pointless. American terminology such as 'have a nice day' just sounds totally insincere and doesn't really mean anything. I actually hate it and resent its use when you realize it doesn't really have any genuine meaning.  You get told this when you leave somewhere, such as a shop, theme park or another entertainment establishment. 

Then we get those phrases and expressions that politicians use relentlessly. Just think 'levelling up,' which I suppose get termed 'sound bites.' One such term which became somewhat controversial was used during the Major government of the 1990s. 'Back to Basics', which came to rather haunting that government when there were several scandals at that time, which rather made the phrase redundant. Then, during the Blair government that came along in 1997, we got the term 'Cool Britannia.' Used to supposedly promote British culture, but it soon fell flat on its backside and didn't promote anything much, except a handful of pop groups. We've had such terms as 'Get Brexit Done,' used during the 2016 EU Referendum. Whether it was actually 'done' is another matter although I think it rather depends on which side of the 'in' or 'out' fence you sit. Oh dear, that is another well-worn cliché. 'Sitting on the fence' sounds rather painful.  

How about this lot: 'Let me be perfectly clear.' Well, so many politicians speak a sort of convoluted double Dutch, most of it is actually totally unclear. 'Tackle the real issues.' Again, they don't always tackle anything, so it's another redundant phrase. ''Window of opportunity.' Oh dear, a really awful cliché and is just mindless mumbo-jumbo (and is that one another 'well-worn' phrases?" Not really a 'window' of anything, and to mix your metaphors, totally unclear of anything, except waffle.

How about this one: 'We'll never be found wanting? First, what on earth does it actually MEAN? Wanting in what sense of the word? I have no idea and I don't expect many politicians would either. 

'Not fit for purpose.' Well, I can think of a lot of things and organizations that fit into this category, usually quangos (quasi-autonomous government organizations.) There were many such quangos set up under the Thatcher administration at the time that various utilities were privatized in the 1980s. So, water got Ofwat, electricity and gas got Ofgen, and the railways got Railtrack. Ironic to think that we became more regulated during this period and as a result created more civil service jobs to regulate these companies. The over-used term 'watchdog' now comes to mind. I have this impression in my mind of this large, slathering hound, a bit like the famous 'Hound of The Baskervilles', watching over the bureaucrats who administer these quangos. Begs the question: do the watchdogs then get their own regulator, so a watchdog gets it's own watchdog? If they don't, it's about time they did.

Then, what about 'crunchtime'? Meaning what, do you suppose? Is 'The Crunch' the point when something is supposed to come to fruition, the end of the road for something (which, in itself, is a cliché. Strange how these phrases just jump out at you.) Supposedly coming to conclusion when 'deadline looms.' Which would mean that things are 'In the pipeline.' But let's hope they don't get blocked if it refers to Ofwat and water regulation. By which time we would have 'considered all options.'

I'm having fun with this, as you may have realized. 

As regards Railtrack, let's just hope they didn't get 'sidetracked' or 'ran into the buffers', or even 'went off the rails'! When they started it was 'full steam ahead.' But then they rather 'ran out of steam'. 

I'm likely to find more of these hackneyed phrases. I just love searching them out. Just listening to some of our politicians, who tend to use far too many of these types of phrases, so look out for further similar posts.

I think this post has hit the buffers and more than probably come off the rails, so I may as well end it here.

Have A Nice Day!

Thursday. 6.05 a.m. Yet another mild day. That title for this post is another of those bland expressions you here, which really means nothing. Just a sound which comes out of people's mouths but really has no meaning. 

9.25 p.m. There's going to be a Platinum Jubilee tea party here on 31st May. The Queen celebrates 70 years on the throne, quite an impressive landmark and the only British monarch to achieve such a goal, surpassed by Queen Victoria who was on the throne for around 63 years when she died in 1901. I hope there'll be lashings of scones and cream, jelly and ice cream. 

Friday. 6.35 a.m. The Ukrainian flag was delivered from Amazon. Just as I was about to have my evening meal. It was a far smaller package than I was expecting. I now have to go to Homebase or somewhere today to buy some nylon cord so I can attach it to the inside of the flat and then put the flag out of the window.

7.05 p.m.I've been to Homebase and bought some cord. Not sure whether it's actually cord or what it is, but the brand made me laugh, it's called Grunt! No, honestly. Who would call a brand Grunt?

I attached two lengths of the cord to the flag, using the eyelets which are in the flag, and tied the other end to the central heating pipe underneath the radiator behind my television. Unfortunately, it was fairly windy, so the flag just didn't flutter as I was hoping. I think I will try putting it out of the higher window and see how that works out. Hopefully, it won't get caught up in the rose bush, which is just below the other window. What I really need is a decent flagpole, but the likelihood of getting one is remote. If there was one, we could have The Last Post as the flag was lowered as the sunset. Who am I kidding? Who knows, probably nobody around here as nobody has much of a sense of humour in Dexter House.

The painting has been completed and there are workmen around the place, replacing front doors. Mine was due to be fitted on the 10th of May, but it has now been rescheduled for the 17th of May. On that day it will be 16 years since my first heart attack. 

Saturday. 6.10 a.m. So, another mild morning. It was breezy yesterday, so let's hope the wind doesn't develop as the day progresses.

1.00 p.m. I have successfully got the Ukrainian flag set up outside my window. I have it set up clamped at the top of the higher window in my lounge with the cords secured onto the central heating pipe undernerat the radiator. It seems to work well and is probably better there than how I had originally intended setting it up. As it is, it can move in the breeze, but the top is clamped securely and can't blow away or become detached. 

Another Week In Happyville

Sunday. 9.05 a.m. Alfie and I were out before 5.30 this morning. Well, I was awake (which I suppose makes it easier to do things. Sarcasm is a good term for this.) and I don't see the point of ever just lounging around indoors, especially when it's daylight outside and the birds are singing sweetly, except for those monotonous tones of pigeons. What a dreary sound they make. Why can't they come up with more interesting songs? Well, pigeons are perhaps the most boring of birds in my opinion. Never have and will never stay in bed longer than necessary. Having had a bowl of cereal, Jordan's granola with raspberries, really tasty, I then thought I would go and get the car filled up with diesel. So, drove to the ESS0 filling station on Child's way and put in £30-worth and, on returning to my vehicle having paid, found, on turning on the car, that the fuel gauge hadn't moved much. It just goes to show how much they cost of diesel has increased, because before, when I had filled up with £30 it would more or less reach the top of the dial. Well, at least it's done and will probably need topping up again before I head off to Worcester at the end of the month.

Why is Saturday television so awful? All we get is football and more football. Fine if you're a fan, which I'm definitely not. Obsession is all I can say, with the schedulers piling it on relentlessly. Then, those programmes which I might want are shifted to a good deal later. Even BBC 2 has become a dumping ground of this sort of stuff, and then we get ancient repeats of Flog It, which is well past its sell-by date.ITV has just gone downhill into the land gone dumb with endless game shows. I have to admit, though, to quite enjoying The Chase, but probably only because of Bradley Walsh and the fact he can't avoid corpsing whenever a somewhat suggestive question comes up. But does ITV have to keep on promoting Britbox? I know they have part ownership of this streaming service, but it becomes irritating to have it advertised at virtually every commercial break. As it is, there are far too many commercials, which just become tedious. I watch most of my television via catch up. As you may, or perhaps not, know, I love anything to do with history, and there's a fair amount of very good history documentaries on Channel 5 and there are a lot presented by Tony Robinson and one which covers various periods of British history, such as The Tudors, The Georgians and The Second World War and The 1950s, but done from the perspective of the ordinary people in those periods, which makes a change from the politicians and monarchs.

I was out early on Monday morning, and as I was preparing to go out, I saw a fox in the communal garden. I had to look twice, and then, when I was in the kitchen, washing up, I saw a second fox. They must come in from the Strudwick Drive side, through the fence, and it might explain why Alfie sniffs around near the gate, as he must pick up their scent. Astounding to see these animals in the garden just goes to show that, if you get up early enough, you will have this sort of sight.

Wednesday. 7.05 a.m. Another mild morning. I was out with Alfie well before 5.30. No sign of foxes. Or any other wildlife for that matter, although we do occasionally see squirrels. often dashing across the road or scrambling about in the trees that line Strudwick Drive.

I have been having trouble with Amazon. I suppose I should rephrase that; not actually Amazon itself, but those who are supposed to deliver the items I purchase from Amazon. I may have mentioned that a few weeks ago I ordered the DVD of the new, Stephen Spielberg-directed version of 'West Side Story.' It was supposed to arrive on a certain day (I can't really remember now, but it doesn't matter.) and I found, through the Amazon website, that it had been delivered. But it hadn't. I contacted Amazon and they eventually sent out a replacement. It made me wonder, what on earth had happened to the original package? If the delivery driver had got the package and then said it had been delivered, what did that person do with it? Was it delivered to another address? I occasionally get my mail and online deliveries to another house in Dexter Avenue (I'm not going to give it here for obvious, privacy, reasons.) which is becoming somewhat irritating. The delivery drivers don't seem to read the address on these pieces of mail or online parcels. Surely not too difficult, you would imagine. But it is probably difficult for some but not the percentage of delivery drivers.

I then decided I wanted to show my support for Ukraine and their struggles in that country since the Russians invaded and started the war there. I wanted to buy a Ukrainian flag, so I had a look on Amazon and found what I wanted. The idea was that the flag could be hung out of my flat window. I also found a sticker to put in the back window of my car and ordered that at the same time. The flag was scheduled to arrive on Sunday afternoon, and then I saw an email from Amazon informing me that the parcel with the flag in it had been delivered and that it had been handed over to the resident. Well, I never received it nor did I sign it off as delivered, and, after a search of the front of this building, I saw absolutely no sign of any parcel. I contacted Amazon a couple of times and yesterday (Tuesday) I decided I would require a refund and Amazon told me they would have an enquiry as to what had happened to the delivery. I have now ordered another flag which should, hopefully, be delivered on Friday.

Keeping The NHS Busy- Part 2

Saturday. 8.20. Continuing my adventures from yesterday. I was at home in the flat and about to have a snack as I usually do for lunch and probably watch television. My mobile rang and it was a paramedic at the doctor's surgery. He said there was something showing up on the ECG which had been done earlier at the surgery and I should go immediately to A and E at Milton Keynes Hospital. At first, I thought he said there was no need to go to A and E. I think it was just me misinterpreting the message and really hoping I wouldn't have to go. There really is nothing worse than a visit to A and E and the endless, totally soul-destroying wait, which can be anything up to four hours from your arrival. Also, the fact that you have to pay when you park and then the possibility of not being able to find a parking space for the car.

So, reluctantly, I drove towards the hospital, leaving Alfie alone in the flat and I'm thinking, 'I just hope I'm not going to have to spend the night in the hospital if they've found something serious in the ECG.' I got to the car park near the A and E entrance and walked a relatively short distance into the A and E reception. I had to give details to a nurse who stood near the entrance doing what I imagine is called 'triage.' A lot of the details from the E.C.G. had presumably been sent from the doctor's surgery and then I had to report to the receptionist and was given a printed-out wristband with my name and N.H.S. number on it together with a bar code. Things are becoming more like a supermarket when you get a bar code and scanned like a  packet of breakfast cereal or pint of milk, but I suppose it makes life easier and more efficient in the end, or, at least, one would like to hope so. Then I was taken through to the waiting area and my worst fears were realized. Just sitting and waiting, having to watch some weird animation on the television that was on the wall. Why couldn't the televisions at least be tuned to daytime programmes? I know 'Homes Under The Hammer' and 'Escape To The Country' aren't exactly entrancing entertainment, but the stuff which was on was dreadful. At least not as bad as the awful television system that they had in the hospital whenever Carol was a patient. I think it was called Hospicom. 

I had to have a further E.C.G. and a blood sample is taken, but this time the nurse was successful thank goodness. I trust it would mean I wouldn't have to give any further blood, as booked at the surgery the previous day. I was assured that I wouldn't have to wait much longer for the results and, hopefully, not the more than six hours I had the last time I had to come to A and E, which is mentioned in an earlier blog post.

A long wait. Until a doctor came to speak to me. He told me that they had done tests on the blood sample and the new E.C.G. There was nothing serious that showed up, so I could go home! So I had spent around three hours stuck in A and E, and I was relieved that I wouldn't have to spend any more time there and best of all, I wouldn't need to stay in overnight. I walked to the car park and then realized I needed to find a ticket machine which would release me at the barrier. The machine I found was difficult to access. No instructions, and the digital screens are difficult to read in bright sunlight. But, at last, I managed to put my card into the slot which then kept hold of it, my fear was that it wouldn't come back out and cause further problems. But it didn't and, surprisingly, I didn't have to pay! So I was able to drive out of the carpark, then found it quite difficult to draw up at the machine so I could lean out of the car window and insert the card into the slot. But all worked as expected and I was able to drive out. What a relief to be able to drive away without any further problems!

Keeping The NHS Busy- Part 1

Monday. 9.50 a.m. I have been out with Alfie, although he was somewhat reluctant to go much further than the piece of grass along Strudwick Drive, but I insisted on walking around Oldbrook Green. As we came to the point where we cross over Oldbrook Boulevard and back along the path towards Dexter House, we saw the lady with Toto. She was sitting in an electric shopping scooter with the dog on her lap. She said she was waiting for a hip replacement operation. Well, to be honest, if it's on the NHS, she's likely to have a long wait, as they are making excuses over any sort of operation or procedure in the wake of the so-called pandemic. 

There seemed to be an excessive amount of traffic along all the roads within Oldbrook. I then discover it's due to our dear old friend, Milton Keynes Marathon. It seems a lot of the roads are closed off to traffic, so that puts an end to my idea of going into the shopping centre to have a look around. More as an excuse to get out of Dexter House for a couple of hours. I think I might leave it until tomorrow. I still don't know why they can't run along the Redways instead of causing inconvenience to everybody, but, of course, that is far too easy.

Tuesday. 6.05 a.m. As it was light outside, I took Alfie out around 5.30 this morning. Yet another mild and pleasant morning.

2.15 p.m. After yesterday when I couldn't drive into the centre of Milton Keynes due to the marathon, I decided to go in this morning. I had a need to just escape from the flat as it can get incredibly claustrophobic. It was good to just wander about and in the shops. I have had really itchy skin and I needed something to relieve it. I found that E45, which is a lotion for such a skin condition, might be suitable. I had looked on the Boots website, but it was apparently out of stock in their Milton Keynes store, so I tried Superdrug, and, hey presto! they had it, so I went into their store and bought some. I now have Superdrug's loyalty card and set up an account when I got back to the flat. The only problem I have with these cards is that they soon fill up your wallet. How many do I have? Probably a dozen or so. The most used are Nectar, which is connected with Sainsbury's and Argos (which is now owned by Sainsburys) Tesco Clubcard, Waterstones, Costa coffee, Body Shop, IKEA, Lakeland, Boots, Morrisons, T.K. Maax, Pets At Home and no doubt many more. The trouble is they take up so much space in my wallet, so when I get to the till to pay at one of these retailers, I can spend a long time rifling through my wallet in an attempt to find the relevant card. Although you can have an app which is supposed to do the same job as a plastic card, I don't always have my iPhone on me.

I have been having what I can only describe as 'mini' angina 'pains', although they're not really pains. I suppose they could be best described as sort of pin-pricks of discomfort in my chest. I know exactly how an angina episode feels and more than sure of what a heart attack feels like, although the pain of a heart attack and heart burn, or indigestion, can feel very similar. I have tablets to check heartburn, Gaviscon, which are actually quite pleasant to suck, unlike a lot of medication and do work. I have them in my medication drawer for just this sort of moment. 

On Wednesday night I was woken up by Alfie poking me with a paw and needing my attention. I realised be probably needed to go outside, but it takes quite a while for me to come round from deep sleep, put on my clothes and stagger out to the grass outside alongside Strudwick Drive. This happened again a couple of hours later, but, unfortunately, he couldn't wait and I ended up clearing up after him. One of the reasons I have kitchen roll handy for such an incident. Then it happened again a few hours after that, by which time my patience was wearing a bit thin, unfortunately, but it was no good blaming Alfie. Well, at least he is capable of telling me, in his own original way that he needed my assistance. This was when the strange angina-like 'attacks' began, and I was thinking I ought to do something about it. Although not actually serious, or so I imagined, it might be advisable to contact my GP and discuss it with him/her.

Due to the weird angina-like symptoms, I thought it might be a good idea to get checked out by a GP. I wasn't expecting that I would get an appointment immediately, but nevertheless, I rang the surgery and found out that they now have a system which allows you to key in a number on your phone's keypad and they will ring you back when your number gets to the front of the queue. It certainly saves having to hang on for what can be hours until you hit the front spot. I spoke to a receptionist, and she listened to my symptoms and said that I would get a call-back from a doctor on Thursday afternoon. But then an hour or so later they rang and said that a doctor would see me face-to-face at 4.40 p.m. The doctor checked my heart rate and stuck that thing on my finger. What is it called? Oximeter or something. He decided I would need to have an E.C.G. and a blood test, just to see what was going on, and I arranged this for the next day with the receptionist.

Friday. 5.00 p.m. I went to the surgery to have my E.C.G. and blood test at 9.20 a.m., but I got there well in time and as a result, I was called into the room to have the tests. The lady doing the bloodletting, sorry, taking my blood, had a real problem finding a vein. So, what's new. In the end, she gave up and said she would need to have a second nurse available to help with this, and I would need to book another appointment. The E.C.G. caused no problems. Well, all I have to do is lie down on the bed and have those contact things stuck on me. No problems. All done and then I went home.

May Day, May Day!

Sunday. 7.10 a.m. I was going to close down this blog for a while, but I find it virtually impossible to ignore things that are going on around me. I've been writing this blog for so long, and it has become so embedded in my life that it's very difficult to let go of it, so here I am. 

Why do we have May Day in this country? I know in Russia (which, with the war going on in Ukraine at the moment, is non persona grata.) they had May Day as a celebration under Communism, but why on earth do we have it? I think it's an ancient fertility festival, probably going back millennia and dancing around the maypole was part of the festivities, which also included the crowning of a May Queen (one of the few remaining May Day festivals is or was held in Ickwell, Bedfordshire and was quite popular and probably now held on the May Bank Holiday Monday, although I wouldn't be too sure of that. The Bank Holiday, not necessarily in Great Britain, is a celebration of working people. On the other hand, 'May Day', as a distress call from a ship that is perhaps sinking, is based on the fact that the French term 'm'aider' which sounds similar, translates as 'help me!"

As I write this, my digital thermometer reads 82ªF and I see no attempt by anyone who should be dealing with this matter (shutting off the heating, full-blast in the middle of summer when the temperature outside is relatively high.)

It looks as if the workmen have at last finished painting the corridors and other areas within Dexter House. I must say, it looks a good deal better than it was. The dull, brown, wooden staircases which lead up to some flats, including mine, are now painted white. Now I want all the tat which fills up a lot of the spaces along my corridor removed. I know doey-eyed puppies and pussycats, ceramic boots with artificial flowers in them, Disney characters with awful grins on their faces aren't everyone's idea of style, but they really need disposing of. Just a lot of clutter and dust traps. 

I had someone from Mears come to look at my bathroom a few weeks ago.. It appears that I can't have a bath fitted as they would need to make 'structural alterations to the space, ie; remove the airing cupboard, in order to install a decent sized bath. I can have a shower unit. So, in that case, there is no choice. Rather like Henry Ford when he was asked about the colour of the Model T, you can have any colour, so long as it's black. It is supposed to take between two weeks and six months before I hear when the work is likely to take place. Well, ticking the box, it's more than two weeks since they came to see the bathroom, so it would seem I have to wait the obligatory six months to get any sort of response. WHY??? I appreciate it's not Mears who decides this matter, but it has to go through goodness knows how many departments within Milton Keynes Council to approve the work, but, let's be honest, it's just giving someone a job deciding the matter. They are upgrading this place, so they have already decided the matter, so they're just dragging their feet for no good reason.

I have a shower curtain on a rail which is kept in place by being screwed out and just pushed against the wall at each end. More by force of effort rather than having a sort of screw or bracket on the wall. I have hung clothes on this rail because there is absolutely nowhere else to hang clothes. I have put over-door hooks on the back of my bedroom door and of course, I can hang shirts and other clothes, on hangers, within the built-in wardrobe in my bedroom. I was awakened the other night by a sound, which I couldn't at first identify. I thought it might have been something being blown by the wind, as I have all the windows open because this flat is so excessively hot (as I've mentioned on numerous occasions in these posts.) I went through to the lounge but could see nothing which might have caused the sound. Then I went into the bathroom, to discover that the shower curtain, along with the rail, as well as some clothing which had hung on the rail, had fallen into the bath. So, it was that which had caused the sound I had heard. I went to The Range and bought a new shower curtain rail. I was surprised how scarce these items are, for whatever reason. I looked in Homebase, which is just over the road from The Range. Nothing to see there. I have since managed to install the new rail, and it's doing its job, not exactly perfectly, but working nonetheless. Well, you may be asking, what more can it do? Just not fall out of it's position.

1.15 p.m. I've been to church this morning. We have a computerized system which means the words of songs we sing are projected onto a screen and other information is used to be presented via this system. But today it wouldn't work. We are drawing to the end of The Prayer Course: Part 2, which will be this Thursday. The videos which we use at the beginning of each session are on YouTube and usually, there is no problem with the system, but this week there was a problem with it as there was last week when we used my iPad, connected to a Bluetooth speaker. I think there must be a problem with connecting to the church wi-fi system. Although we didn't have the lyrics of the songs this morning, we seemed to manage really well, probably as most people, myself included, knew the words of the songs and things went better than it might have done. Just shows that you don't really need all that technology at certain times.

I have mentioned that I have windows open to let out the heat (crazy when you think about it.) I wanted to have the kitchen window open to its fullest extent, but for some reason, it will only open a few inches, which is really ridiculous. Is this to prevent me from jumping out of the window, or, for that matter, people climbing in? I doubt it. If I intended to jump out (which might be possible, considering being copped up in here for two years due to pandemic lockdowns.) my fall would be impeded by a rather large hedge below the window, although you would have to roll down a few feet of a roof before you reached the hedge..So, it wouldn't be a very good place to fall out, as a means of escape or a means of ending it, although being confined with a load of fogeys might be one of the reasons to end it all (no, seriously I have no intention of so doing.)  although it might possibly be a reason just to get away from endless bingo Zimmer frames, electric scooters and being treated like a zombie. No, only joking, but that's what being cooped up in here does to you.

Monday. 6.25 a.m.  Bank Holiday Monday. My digital thermometer currently reads 78ºF. I still have two electric fans running at full blast but nothing seems to cool this flat sufficiently. I was out with Alfie at around 5.30. It was light outside and there seemed no point in sitting around when he needs to go out. But Alfie didn't really appreciate me taking him around Oldbrook Green, but I was determined to get my step count up to my target of 10,000 so I insisted, although his nibs was more than reluctant to go. Around five circuits of Oldbrook Green more or less produces the desired step count.