New Skills , Editing and Rewriting

 Thursday. 7.15 p.m. This must be the latest in the day I've ever started a blog post, but it's good to change these things occasionally.

I've recently upgraded my iPad to a far more powerful model which can be used with an Apple Pencil. This means it's possible to do graphic work, although the pencil can be used to great effect when using a wide range of apps, not necessarily for graphic work. I have downloaded Procreate, which allows some quite sophisticated work, and the results don't look like they've been done on a computer. There is no pixelation, which you might expect. I have now discovered an animation package which is called Squid Toon (don't ask me why they gave it that name. It has nothing whatever to do with squid or any other sort of sea creature.) Both these packages are £10 each, which is an incredible bargain and under different circumstances, would probably cost in the region of £200-£300. I am slowly learning how to use them, and I'm viewing YouTube videos to find out how to make the most of them. Both these packages are exclusive to iPad and don't work on Android tablets.

Saturday. 7.40 a.m. Goodness, gracious! Where did Friday go? As you would have realized, I didn't write anything for yesterday, Friday. I suppose it was because nothing really happened. Well, let's be honest, not a lot happens at Dexter House. 

I want to put in a new character in my writing project. It isn't just a question of 'adding' this character. I have to go back and edit a point where this character can enter the plot line. I think it's a bit like unpicking a knitted jumper and then reknitting the jumper. My mother was a great knitter and made us all beautiful jumpers. She made me a really fantastic jumper, very thick and warm. It had a cable stitch pattern on the front. It had to be remodelled, to give it a different neckline. She had to unpick a certain amount of the neckline and then reuse the wool to reknit the neckline. I think previously it had a roll neck and this was changed to a lower neckline. This is exactly the same as what I am doing with my creative writing.

I have printed off several pages of what I have already written, so I can edit it and insert this new character.

I was thinking, about how many words we use which have a connection with print and writing and sewing and weaving. Just think of weaving a story, text, texture, loose ends, dénouement, losing the thread etc.

10.55 a.m. I've been to the monthly men's breakfast at the Fountain at Loughton. We seem to have more men coming than ever before. The only problem is, it's quite difficult to hear what anyone says at the furthest from where I was sitting. It's not easy for anyone to speak and be heard clearly. We propose meeting on the 18th March at the Oaktree Centre next month and ordering McDonald's, which should make the food part easier.

It might be bright and sunny this morning, but there is a definite chill in the air, which meant I wore my jumper under my Regatta jacket. It's that time of year, almost spring, with the sun shining and a hint of wintery weather. It's difficult to know whether to wear a jacket or jumper or not, and not always choose correctly.

Sunday. 8.05 a.m. Another cold but sunny morning. 

1.20 pm. Extremely busy at church this morning. I'm not sure how many were actually in the hall, but I don't think there were any vacant seats.

Monday. 8.35 a.m. It's a great deal more overcast this morning. Actually quite cold out, when I took out Alfie around 6.45. On BBC Breakfast, Carol Kirkwood, the weather lady, said there was snow in parts of the country. 

1.30 p.m. I had transcribed around four pages of handwritten text into word processing. I'm editing and making changes as I go. Furthermore, I have to say, I'm rather pleased with how it's going. This is something I wrote some while ago and had forgotten all about, but it seems perfect as the backstory for the new character I want to introduce. 

Working Technology!!

Monday. 8.40 a.m. Yet another mild and sunny, although not particularly warm, day. Dare I say 'springlike'? Probably tempting providence if I say that. Alfie and I were out well before 7 o'clock. He had to be woken up, as he was fast asleep in his bed.

I have printed off the first twenty pages of my writing project. I'm not sure whether to call it a novel. It was never really intended to be a 'novel' in the strictest sense. I think it should be issued in 'episodes' or 'instalments' which is how many novels were published in the 19th century, most notably Dickens'. I will now edit and modify what I have written and, having begun some research, be able to continue what I have been working on gradually over the last couple of years.

The Canon printer is working well! After all the issues I had with the HP printer, it's great to have a printer which does what it's supposed to do. The Wi-Fi connection works exceptionally well, meaning I can be in the lounge with the MacBook and the printer, which is in my bedroom, basically, because there's no space in the lounge for the printer, which is set up on the unit I got from Amazon. Definitely a good buy, having wheels and space underneath to store paper and other supplies. The printer will print on both sides of the paper, which is good, as it saves on paper. It's fascinating watching it work. When a page is printing, and it gets to the end of one side, the printer stops for a second or two, presumably to give the ink a chance to dry, and then the sheet is drawn back inside the printer so that the second side can be printed. The HP printer wouldn't do this. Considering all the problems I have had with the various printers I've owned, it's great to have at last got one who actually WORKS!

10.30 a.m. I've been to Sainsbury's, and at last done the shopping (or I should say, the rest of my list. I could only manage to carry one bag of shopping back home after my trip on Saturday, due to having to walk when I'd had problems with the power steering. See the last blog post for more details. I bought daffodils. It's approaching Carol's birthday. It's 7th March, and she would have been 59. So, in memory of my lovely lady, I have cut daffodils, which are replaced in the vase I have. The current bunch is at a very early stage, so they will gradually open as the days pass.

Tuesday. 7.15 a.m. I've only just got back from going out with Alfie. It's another fine morning. I've done all the washing-up and the kitchen is tidy. I've also done my pack-up to take with me to Camphill. This is why I went to Sainsbury's yesterday. I have pork pie because I have got tired of boring sandwiches. 

5.40 p.m. I had almost forgotten that today was Shrove Tuesday, better known as Pancake Day. Arriving at Camphill, I soon discovered that things weren't going to be the normal sort of format for the day. As it was Pancake Day, the theatre workshop team were going to have an outing to Campbell Park, as there was scheduled to be a pancake race event, with one of the leaders of the group running to represent Camphill. Some people were going to walk, whilst some were to be ferried to the site via minibus, some were going in Terrie's vehicle and I was going on my own and wouldn't be able to take anyone, because my car isn't insured for such work, only having private insurance. All this wasn't going to kick into action until after tea break.

Terrie had a meeting with me. She told me that, because the theatre group was growing, with quite a few people coming from outside the Camphill Community in Milton Keynes, the ratio of clients to staff was being eroded. She told me that she and Julia had been discussing the need for there to be another member of staff in the theatre and that she would like me to have more of a role in the group, which would probably mean me leading some of the sessions, because, with so many in the theatre group, it might eventually be possible to run separate teams within the workshop. I am now going to consider how I could see my role, but still remain a volunteer. This really makes me so pleased as I want to be able to give as much as I can to the theatre workshop.

Around 11.20, I drove off to Campbell Park, not knowing exactly where I was going to park. I remember going to a history festival there in 2019 (which is how I made contact with various groups, such as the Bucks Archaeology Society and Milton Keynes Heritage Association.) I couldn't remember whether I had parked nearer the park (where the pancake race was to be held.) and then realised, during my drive, that I had parked nearer the shopping centre, probably near the Xcape. At which point I decided that I would need cash to pay to park and then drove back to Dexter House to collect my wallet.

Having done the journey back to Dexter House and then return to park near Xcape, I walked over to Campbell Park and, as I crossed the road, I could see in the distance the encampment which had been set u for the pancake race. As I got closer, I saw the Camphill stand, with staff selling food and some of them cooking pancakes. There were several heats of pancake races, run as relays, one of which was a Camphill team of staff and one member was Mitchell, who works in the theatre workshop. There was also a special race for those with disabilities, in particular, Camphill and something called Snap (Special Needs Advancement Project) which is a day-services organization. Some of the Camphill residents go there. It was one of the organizations I had considered volunteering at before I discovered Camphill and the theatre workshop. This race was run with the circuit broken into quarters and each team only running each quarter. I'm not sure, but I think Snap won. 

The group who had walked from Camphill arrived long before Terrie arrived, no doubt because she had to park her vehicle and then walk over from near the shopping centre as I had done.

There was plenty to eat, as well as drink. I got a free pancake from the Camphill stall as well as a latte which I paid for at a nearby coffee stall. I think I recognize this mobile coffee van, possibly from the Bucks agricultural show from several years ago.

After all the races were won and prizes distributed, the event was over, so I walked back to my car and drove back to Milton Keynes. On arrival, I discovered that the car park was full, so I had to park in an area outside the Camphill campus I sat in the car and ate my pack-up, which I had put in the car well before leaving Camphill earlier in the morning.

After lunch, we watched a couple of silent films on YouTube, although it was projected onto the cinema screen in the Chrysalis Theatre. There was a bit of a problem getting the laptop to connect to the internet, but it eventually worked. One was a very early French film, made in around 1903 called 'From The Earth To The Moon.' Probably the first science fiction film. The second one was from around 1922, based loosely on Lewis Carroll's 'Alice in Wonderland', and utilized all sorts of visual effects, both films were restored (as far as it was possible.) by the British Film Institute.

After a short tea break, everyone went outside into the forecourt area of Camphill, because there were to be some further pancake races. I think my last visit to Camphill, before the pandemic lockdowns in 2020, was coincidental with pancake day, and I  have seen video footage of it on Vimeo.

Once More Unto The Breach!

 Sunday. 8.00 a.m. Alfie and I were out well before 7 o'clock this morning. It was light, so there seemed no point in hanging around in bed (that is, if you can literally 'hang around' in bed. But never mind.) It is reasonably mild and spring-like. The trees are coming out in leaf. The hedge alongside the path we walk down to Oldbrook Green has a scattering of leaves. No doubt it is the mild weather which inspires them to start shooting.

I have been to the car to start it and see whether yesterday's problem had returned. There didn't seem to be a problem with the power steering. I just think it was a freak, a glitch you might say, with the computer system in the car. When the car is resting, with the key card removed, the steering wheel is locked, presumably to prevent anyone from stealing it. When you insert the key card, it releases the steering wheel, so you are able to drive off. I can think of nothing else that could have caused it. I have AA breakdown cover, so if there is another problem, I can use that.

12.55 a.m. I am back from church. On the way, around the halfway point, driving up Chaffron Way, I could see a vehicle behind me. It was green, and I wasn't sure whether it was a van or a car, but what caught my eye was the fact that it had a face on it. I came closer and it had eyes, where the windscreen would be, a nose and a grinning mouth with teeth. As it was so close, I thought it might represent Shrek, the ogre who appears in the Dreamworks animated film. It was actually quite scary, and the sort of thing that dreams are made of. I know there's a musical based on 'Shrek', so I wondered if it was something to do with publicity for a tour and whether it was coming to the theatre in Milton Keynes. If so, it would certainly get a reaction, as it did for me.

The number of those attending Shenley Christian Centre is growing. The hall was virtually full to capacity, this morning and the other week extra chairs had to be bought in. The car park is more or less at capacity. Attendees aren't supposed to park on the surrounding residential roads. If necessary, people can park at Shenley Upper School, which is directly next to SCF's home at Oaktree Centre. The second phase of the centre is more than ever needed.

I have still got some of Carol's things left. I know it seems odd, but why would I keep coats, gloves and other items after she had passed away? I didn't know what to do. I also have several coats of hers and mine. Last year, after the start of the war between Russia and Ukraine, there was a call put out for warm clothing for refugees. I went to the address of a warehouse where they were collecting warm clothing items, but then I discovered, on arriving there, that they had enough at that time. At church last week, a call went out for warm clothing for those having problems due to the cost of living crisis, so this morning, having already put two bags of clothing into my car, I took it into the Oaktree Centre. I had these two bin bags, full of clothing and other bits and pieces, in my airing cupboard, taking up valuable space, so it was something of a relief to take them out and hopefully, they can be more useful to those in need.

Happy Days Are Here Again! (Or Are They?)

Thursday. 8.25 a.m. 53 years ago today, I began my theatre career as a student A.S.M. at the Everyman Theatre, Cheltenham. I was thrown in at the deep end, as it were because that Monday was the technical rehearsal of a production of 'Jane Eyre.' It had Angela Richards playing Jane in it. I was very 'green' as they say. In those days, 'rep' or 'repertory' theatre, was in full operation. Most large towns throughout the United Kingdom had their own 'rep.' Plays ran throughout the year, except for a break of a fortnight during the summer for maintenance. Each play would run for two-three weeks, with the next play in rehearsal as a play was in performance. It meant that stage management had to search for props for the next play, beg, borrow or steal items to be used in the next play, so we would scour the town for these items. As the budget for each play was tiny, there wasn't money to buy these items. Most items would come from local businesses, and shops, mostly selling antiques in Cheltenham or quite valuable pieces of furniture. It's amazing. looking back, what we had on loan. These businesses who loaned items got a credit in the play's programme and got free tickets for the play as an acknowledgement. The theatre must have had insurance because some items were expensive antiques (at the time I am talking about, Cheltenham had plenty of antique shops, many quite keen to lend pieces of furniture and other items.) Without this sort of borrowing, the shows would never have been staged. 

It was fairly unrelenting work, because, with one show being performed during the evening, and the next play in rehearsals during the day, there was no let-up. I might be doing props for one show and then operating sound on the next, having to make up tapes of music and sound effects. I didn't get to do 'The Book' until I went to Colchester Rep in the following January as a fully-fledged A.S.M. The first 'Book' I did was 'Billy Liar.' It's quite a demanding job, being in rehearsals from the first read-through of the script, logging all the actors' moves and taking notes on such things as props, practical effects (i.e.: off-stage crases, door slams, gunshots.) and running the show when it goes into the theatre during production week, the technical, dress rehearsal and then opening night and then the actual run. Then, giving the actors their calls via the tannoy system, cueing lights, sound effects and so on and keeping a record of the show's timing, interval etc.

3.40 p.m. The day has been mild on the weather front, although it has been quite blustery. Not a lot else has happened. I have had problems with my Amazon Video connection. Attempting to watch the latest season of 'Clarkson's Farm and have reached the final episode, but it won't play. Technology is fine when it works, but when it decides not to work, then it's annoying and somewhat frustrating. I will leave it and have another attempt later.

6.55 p.m. I have at last managed to get the Firestick to work. I did the old trick which everyone does with anything electrical, and usually when there's a problem with a computer or anything vaguely connected with a computer, which a Fire Stick is. I turned the whole system off at the electrical point and after ten seconds, put it back on. This meant the Fire Stick rebooted itself and, hey presto! I managed to watch 'Clarkson's Farm'. 

I know Jeremy Clarkson is not someone to everyone's taste. He has come out with some controversial things, particularly regarding Megan Markle. But, having watched this show, he has at least had the guts to try something which he has actually got no experience of, that is, farming. He has made some stupid mistakes, but you have to admit, he has attempted to do some quite challenging things. It seems that West Oxfordshire District Council have made his life extremely difficult regarding planning permission, and it looks to me as if they are just being awkward and extremely petty in their actions. 

Saturday. 10.30 a.m. I had to buy some things at Sainsbury's, such as milk. So, having made out my obligatory shopping list, which I find is always best, as I don't want to forget anything I need and it saves time. This was my way of shopping during lockdown, particularly as there were so many restrictions, and it just made shopping faster. But when I went to start the car and back out of my parking space, the steering wheel would not turn, and I got a message on the digital screen saying 'power steering fault.' I also got a red light come on which told me to 'stop.,' which was exactly what I did. There was no way I was going to be able to drive it, so I left it in the parking space and walked to Sainsbury's, which is no more than a fifteen-minute walk. But I didn't buy everything on my carefully composed list, as I didn't want to have to carry heavy bags of shopping. Having now returned home and unloaded my shopping, I have been back to check the car and it seems alright and no problems with the steering. I'm not sure what caused the problem in the first place. Just makes me worry now that, if I drive anywhere, it will then decide to play up, making it impossible to drive.

1.55 p.m. No, I have no idea why I chose the title for this post. I sometimes choose song titles, but anyway, this one is actually not very appropriate at the moment, but I quite like it, regardless of it being totally not connected to anything. We just need some optimism at the moment, so leave it at that.

6.10 p.m. I was cooking my evening meal. Steak, chips, tomato, mushroom and a bit of onion. Well, you can't have steak without a bit of onion, I always say. I had the chips cooking in the oven, along with the tomato. It was time to sear the steak in a pan, which I did. But the oil got on the hot ring and produced smoke. I was annoyed as I knew what would happen next, which it did; it set the very sensitive fire alarm off. It is deafening, and Alfie doesn't like it. It continued to make it's noise, regardless of my waving a tea towel under it. No way of turning it off. I just sat in the lounge with the door shut. Then, around fifteen minutes later, I got a knock on the door and two firemen came in. They couldn't stop it, even with a glove held over the alarm. I was going to use the alarm system which each of the flats in Dexter House are equipped with, which can be set off by one of the red pull cords which are in all the rooms (although looking around the lounge where I am sitting and composing this, there isn't one. One of the firemen pressed the alarm button on the unit on the wall to speak to the operator, who knows who I am if I accidentally set off the alarm (which is reassuring if I had a genuine need for assistance, such as a fall or I had a medical need, such as a heart attack.) The fireman said that the mobile member of staff would turn off the alarm (which by now was giving me a headache, it was so loud.) About ten minutes later the alarm stopped, which was such a relief and I was able to complete preparing my meal and sit down and actually eat it!

I have already mentioned how I discussed having an extractor fan fitted, when the kitchen was refurbished back in July and how many times I have contacted Mears, the company who are responsible for maintenance at Dexter House. I am almost certain that when the extractor fan is eventually installed in my kitchen, then setting off the fire alarm should, in theory at least, be a thing of the past.

Milder Weather

Tuesday. 7.55 a.m. It's foggy at the moment. It was something of a surprise when we went out at around 7.10. I hope it clears as the day progresses. It's not too thick, and visibility is about 20-30 feet or so.

6.05 p.m. The fog lifted gradually, as the day progressed, and the rest of the day was bright and sunny and really pleasant. The drive to Camphill was stress-free, with no queuing onto any of the roundabouts.  I think this was because it was half-term, with parents not driving their children to school.

The day at Camphill, in the theatre workshop, was spent reviewing the feedback from the two performances of '12 Nite.' (That was how it was spelt on the programmes and in the media. It was done to show that it wasn't actually as William Shakespeare wrote it, but an adaptation to be performed by a group who have a range of disabilities and for their capabilities.) Ticket sales were amazing and as a result, some £1,200 was made from the total sales. There has been a great number of positive reactions on social media, such as Facebook and Twitter.

During the lunch break, there was an incident, when one of the young men in the theatre workshop had a 'moment.' He got somewhat annoyed and swore at one of the girls, who got really upset, which was totally understandable. There was nothing violent, he didn't hit anyone, but it caused a situation which had to be resolved. As a result, Terrie, the workshop leader, had to get to the bottom of the incident and went off to deal with the young man. Generally, the group are very supportive of each other and there are never any raised voices, they all get on remarkably well together. Terrie had to interview all those people who witnessed the incident, including me, and write a report. 

During the time Terrie was out of the theatre, the rest of the team played a series of drama exercises and games. One, 'Grandmother's Basket' was played, with the team sitting in a circle and one person being given an empty basket and putting in an imaginary item, such as a boo, a dragon, a gold watch or whatever, and then the basket is passed to the next person who has to say the last item added and puts their own item in and the basket passes on round the circle with each person saying the last items and then their own, until it gets to the end of the circle, in this case, myself, who had to remember all the items, which was quite a feat of memory and add my own! I did manage. So glad to be part of all this! 

Then Paul, who is Terrie's assistant, suggested playing a game which might be useful in the development of a silent film which the group might make. The group was split into two and was given a theme for a sort of 'silent' or 'mime' piece. Then each group had to decide how to present the 'them' to the other group, who had to guess what the 'theme' was. My group had to first show a doctor's surgery, so we had the doctor mime, with patients arriving and him checking the patient. The other group theme was a school, with a teacher being the head of the class and some pupils arriving late, but in both exercises, no one could speak. It was a great success and even more than ever showed how well the teams work together. One of the definite positives of Camphill and showing the success of the community.

The afternoon was then spent watching a video on YouTube of a silent film, starring Buster Keaton, which was shown to give the team inspiration for making their own silent film. 

The day ended at 3.30 instead of 4 o'clock because Terrie and other members of staff had a meeting with the lady who is in charge of things at Camphill, to discuss the various things involved with the production of 'Twelfth Night.'

Wednesday. 7.50 a.m. A bright and relatively mild morning, but I did notice that there was a light frost on the grass when I took Alfie out at around 7.10 a.m.

9.00 a.m. The sun is shining, and I'm about to go to Aldi to do a bit of shopping.

11.00 a.m. I'm back from my trip to Aldi. In and out relatively quickly. I made a mess up with a one-pound coin in the trolley. I put one of the two I had with me in the wrong trolley and then found I couldn't release it, unfortunately. It might seem a triviality, but I never have a pocketful of pound coins, probably because I pay for most things with my debit card and usually not with cash. You need a coin for car parking or for these supermarket trolleys, Sainsbury's doesn't have trolleys which unlock with a pound coin, but Aldi does.

Another Dawn, Another Day

Saturday. 6.40 a.m. I've just been watching BBC Breakfast. There's been a report about the stage version of 'Spitting Images', which has opened at Birmingham Rep Theatre. This was a hugely successful television show in the 1980s, satirizing many politicians and celebrities of the day. Some of the material could be quite cruel and biting. It was briefly revived on Britbox, the streaming service, but it never had the same level of satire as the original show, basically because a lot of material would be 'non-PC' and not get past the 'woke' brigade. I have a connection to Spitting Images, although very vaguely. I know several people who either worked in the moulding and sculpting departments or as puppeteers and I even auditioned for it, although I wasn't successful, it was an interesting and positive day nevertheless. It will be interesting to see how this stage version does and whether it will be toured.

I was out with Alfie around 7.10, and it would appear to be quite mild. No sign of frost.

Sunday. 8.20 a.m. I was woken in the night (it must have been around 2 a.m.) by doors banging and loud voices downstairs. Goodness knows what it was. I could not get back to sleep, so I decided to make something to eat, a bowl of porridge. Easy to make and tasty, as well as being good for you, helping to reduce cholesterol, not that I really need my cholesterol lowering, as it's at a good level at present. Then, I thought, I might as well watch television. Just news on BBC1, which continues all night. (By the way, why does the BBC have the same news on BBC1 and the BBC News channel? What's the point? Why have identical stuff on two channels? Surely they have material which can be repeated, even if it's older? Documentaries, for example?) I plumped for something on BBC iPlayer, a comedy called W1A, which is a mockumentary about the BBC. I have seen most of the episodes before, but it's worth a second look. With Hugh Bonneville as the BBC's Head of Values, Ian Fletcher. How accurate it is, I have no idea, but it parodies the sort of life within a large bureaucracy, with endless, pointless meetings. Whether it's accurate about the inner workings of the BBC, is open to doubt. The doublespeak is funny but at times it goes on too long. The fact that they come up with ideas for programme formats seems a bit false, in this day when most programmes are made by independent companies who then pitch their ideas to the broadcasters, in this case, the BBC. The BBC broadcasts them and in most cases doesn't own the rights.

Monday. 8.05 a.m. I have the windows wide open because there is still smoke coming into my flat. I really don't know why I have to put up with someone's fag smoke percolating my private space. It is totally unacceptable 

10.30 a.m. I've been to buy a few bits in Sainsbury's. There is a vast display of flowers, mostly red roses, in the entrance area. It does seem obvious that it's for Valentine's Day, which is tomorrow. Also, plenty of pink Champaign and other alcohol on sale, given prominence along the ends of aisles. Blatant over-commercialisation of this day. Also, Easter eggs are already given pride of place in another area of the store, as well as boxes of chocolates. 

Somebody who lives in one of the flats along the corridor from me has a Hyacinth Bucket complex (she, being the character from the BBC sitcom 'Keeping Up Appearances' played with extreme relish by the brilliant Patricia Routledge) They have a sign outside which says 'posher than next door.' Oh, dear! Are they snobs? How do you quantify 'posh'?  The word 'posh' is supposed to have come from a shipping line company which took passengers to India, or possibly, Australia, in the 19th or early 20th century. People would sit on the deck to catch the sun, 'port out, starboard home', or some such slogan was created, hence the initials spelling 'posh', I'm not sure how true that it, and presumably it hinted at wealth and position in society because people were snobbish about their social standing in that era (probably equally snobbish today, but you get my point. 

4.10 p.m. It's remarkably warm and sunny as I write this. It's not what you would call 'hot', but that's to be expected since it's early February, when you consider what the weather was like a few weeks ago, freezing and frosty, it's warm and pleasant, almost spring-like.

Tuesday. 6.30 a.m. I was awake, so, rather than lounging in bed, I got up, shaved and then did a pile of washing up. I can't stand going out and then returning to a sink full of dirty pots and pans. As I will be going to Camphill this morning, I won't be back in the flat until around 4.30 p.m., so washing up will be the last thing on my mind.

I have restored my Amazon Prime membership. It has been £79 a year, but then last year it increased to £90, which I didn't want to be taken out of my bank account (via Direct Debit) and more than I was prepared to pay, I cancelled. Then, on Sunday, I re-subscribed, but this time, on a monthly payment, of £8.99, which is far easier to handle. As a result of all of this, I decided to watch the second season of 'Clarkson's Farm.' I saw the first run, which is about Jeremy Clarkson's attempts to manage the farm he bought in Oxfordshire in 2008. I know, he does have a habit of upsetting people, and making controversial statements, but, as a farmer's son, I have a fairly good idea of how difficult farming is. I don't like the strong language that is used, but it's a good watch. Certainly not something which would be shown on traditional, terrestrial television, such as BBC 1 or ITV. Anyway, as all the episodes of the Clarkson show are available, I have already watched the first four. I know that Clarkson is something of a Marmite sort of person; you either like him or hate him. He seems to be a magnet for controversy. Just think the things he has said about, for example, Megan Markle. I won't repeat it hear. But if what he said, or in this case, wrote, in The Sun newspaper, which publishes his column, why didn't the editor of that paper edit the comments before the column was published? Let's just say, the Sun is a tabloid which needs to make money and to have such a controversial columnist attracts readers which ultimately attracts advertising which keeps the paper afloat. 

Amazon Prime doesn't just cover their streaming service. You get free postage and packaging on items you purchase from them as well as other of their services (which I have forgotten at the moment. I think music via any Alexa device for a start off.)

Spring Is In The Air!

Thursday. 7.45 a.m. Alfie and I were out at around 7.10 this morning. It's getting lighter each morning. 

Spring is definitely in the air! Not only is it now a good deal milder, but bulbs are coming up, which I noticed when I was at Camphill on Tuesday. Also, blossoms come out, and many trees have the first signs of leaves.

2.40 p.m. I have been to The Oaktree Centre to assist with setting up and clearing up the playgroup this morning and then to take part in a Bible study. I have wanted to get Alfie an appointment at The Groom Room in Bletchley in order to get him trimmed, as he is beginning to look scruffy. I think a groom every six months or so is usually enough, not just a trim, but to have his nails trimmed and the build-up of mess under his eyes to be removed. I thought I could drive over to Bletchley from Shenley and then come home for some lunch, but then I decided the lunch should come first and then drive to Bletchley. Unfortunately, when I got there, I went into Pets At Home, which houses The Groom Room and discovered they were closed until 2 o'clock, so I had to fill in the time browsing in T.K.Maax, Sports Direct and Home Bargains, all of which are in the same parade as Pets At Home. I also went into Boots to buy vitamin D tablets and cod liver oil capsules, which I take every day and  I found if I bought an extra packet I could have one free, so it was a good offer.  I then needed the loo and walked over to Tesco to avail myself of their facilities. 

Once all this had been done, it was approaching 2 o'clock and I managed to get Alfie booked for his appointment on 23rd March at 2p.m., which was the earliest slot I could get.

5.05 p.m. I notice that the workmen working on the roof have packed up the scaffolding and it is gone. I thought I could hear a lot of banging and clanking but didn't realize it was them dismantling the scaffolding. There is still quite a bit of their equipment left on the grass below my kitchen window. No doubt it will be removed in the next day or so.

Friday. 8.30 a.m. It's a rather mixed sort of day on the weather front. Alfie insisted on going out at around 6.45. I got dressed hurriedly, and we went out on the grass alongside Strudwick Drive I found it was frosty, although it wasn't particularly hard. I have to take my small electric torch with me as it's difficult to see otherwise to pick up after Alfie.

I have my washing in the machine and on at around 7.45. I'm now waiting for it to finish, so it can go in the tumble drier.

1.40 p.m. Washing done, some hanging in the wardrobe, dried, and some on the airer.

We had the second poetry session this morning. Five of us in attendance. I was expecting more Dexter House residents to appear, but no one else came. Pity. This is, as I think I mentioned in an earlier post, a part of the U3A of which I am a member. We have to spring at least two poems to read and discuss. The theme this month was 'love' and no doubt is connected to it being Valentine's Day on 14th February. The theme for the next one is 'birds'. I am currently looking on Google for any poems on that subject, hopefully at least one will be amusing.

Saturday. 6.25 a.m. I have had the windows in my flat open, to attempt to remove the cigarette smoke. It does seem to work, but I need to have the window in the lounge open to create a through draught. I have mentioned the matter regarding this smoke, which comes from the flat below me, but I have been told that the flat door should be closed to prevent the smoke seeing out. It certainly shouldn't come into my flat, or anyone else's if it comes to that.

Winter of Discontent 2; The Sequel

Monday. 8.45 a.m. Yet another bright and sunny morning. It seems almost spring-like, but, knowing the weather in this country, it's likely to change at very short notice.

As I'm sure I've mentioned in these blog posts at some stage or other, I am in the process of reading a set of books, although in no way connected by authors, which cover the history of Great Britain from around 1870 right up to, as near as possible, the current time. Of course, when such a book is being researched, the author has to allow some material, usually government papers, to be de-restricted, which is generally after 30 years, and in some cases, even more, usually where there is an element of secrecy involved, such as material which might be deemed sensitive, which might put the security of the nation in jeopardy.

I have now reached the 1980s, with the rise of Margaret Thatcher. During the 1970s we had endless strikes, which I remember vividly. Edward Heath and Harold Wilson and eventually James Callaghan met their match with the various unions in that period, which lead to each administration's downfall. 

I was thinking, with the current crop of strikes which are happening at the moment, such as rail workers, N.H.S. nurses and others, as well as teachers (and possibly others, which I can't remember which or whom.), it does somehow seem we're in the midst of the 1970s 'Winter of Discontent.' The difference I can see is that there are acts of Parliament in place to keep control of such actions the unions took in the 1970s, such as mass picketing, and there aren't as many people in unions as there were then.

Tuesday. 6.40 a.m. Alfie insisted on being taken out at around 6.20. I think it was rapidly approaching an emergency. He kept poking me with his paw, so it seemed a good idea to do as he wanted. I put him in the lounge with the door shut and no sooner had I shut the door than he began barking. t then took me five minutes to get myself fully dressed and I took the small torch with me when we got out onto the grass alongside Strudwick Drive, I found a slight frost. I will now have to check that the car isn't iced over as a result of overnight frost before I drive off to Camphill this morning.

4.40 p.m. I had to scrape a certain amount of ice off the car's windows before I went to Camphill. It wasn't much effort and, even with the sun shining, it was quite chilly this morning.

At Camphill Terrie is absent (she's the leader of the theatre workshop.) as well as several other members of the gang. As 'Twelfth Night' has finished, we're beginning to get ideas for the next play. Paul, who is Terrie's assistant, was in charge of things, and he had a whiteboard on which other people involved with the play had come up with what they had enjoyed about 'Twelfth Night' and what they'd like to do as the next production. The general idea is to allow the Camphill theatre workshop gang to have their say on what is produced. We then watched a video, via BBC iPlayer, of a production of 'Twelfth Night,' which was on at the Shakespeare Globe Theatre in London. 

Wednesday. 8.20 a.m. Quite a sharp frost this morning. I'm unsure whether there's ice on the car windows and I have to drive to Sainsbury's, so I'm likely going to have to scrape any off before I drive off.

I pay a service charge at Dexter House, and I have always paid it with my debit card online. It is usually a simple matter of going to the Milton Keynes Council website and entering my details, but it changed completely this morning, so I couldn't pay. I have made several attempts, but with no success. It seems someone has decided to change it, making things difficult. No doubt this will be resolved at some point in the next day or two, but why change something which works perfectly well?

10.45 a.m. The situation regarding the payment, as mentioned above, is now resolved. Paid and sorted out.

Time and Tide

Friday. 8.25 a.m. Yet another mild morning.

11.15 a.m. I've been to Aldi this morning. It's so easy to go in and get what you want and be out quickly. No fuss, no frills. The main supermarkets have so many distractions, things that you could possibly do without at that particular moment, such as clothes (alright, I know, we all need clothes, but you know what I mean.) They want you to browse and maybe not buy something immediately, but come back and buy it later. Also, books, toys, cards and a whole host of other stuff.

1.40 p.m. The roofing contractors appear to have left at around midday. A considerable amount of their equipment is scattered all over the grass below my kitchen window. The machine which I could not identify turns out to be a sort of lift, similar to what they used on my father's farm, an elevator to lift straw and hay bales up to the highest point when they built stacks. This machine is a good deal narrower and has its own engine to power it. They use it to take tiles up to the roof. 

Saturday. 9.55 a.m. The lady in the flat beneath me smokes like a chimney. Now, I know, it's a choice and everyone has a right to do what they like in their own home. But when the Mears workmen were in her flat and the door was open, cigarette smoke got into my flat. I have never smoked and don't intend to ever smoke. I know the effects it can have on your health, not just the possibility of contracting cancer, but it can cause all sorts of illnesses, clogging up your arteries and causing heart attacks, strokes and so on. Not just that, but the smell of cigarette smoke is unpleasant, causing me to cough. I was told, after I had my first heart attack in 2006, that if I'd smoked I would in all probability have had my heart attack five years earlier. Under no-smoking legislation, which came in under the Blair government, smoking is not allowed in public spaces, which includes the common areas of Dexter House, but tenants are free to smoke in their flats. I just get annoyed that I'm having to endure cigarette smoke contamination when I don't want it and the fact that it's possibly endangering my health I get very annoyed, but there's not a great deal I can do about it.

I felt sorry for the Mears' workmen because they had to work in all that cigarette smoke. I don't think it's acceptable to expect anyone to have to work in such an environment. It's totally unhealthy. I remember, when I worked for Guardian Home care, around ten years ago, I had one of my clients who I visited several times a day, also smoked in their home. I had to breathe that smoke in for a couple of hours. They call it passive smoking, which I didn't like, but there wasn't much I could do about it. Why couldn't I object? It was unpleasant, in the same way, that the cigarette smoke coming from the flat below me is both unpleasant and dangerous to my health.

5.55 p.m. I've been to Camphill this afternoon to see a performance of 'Twelfth Night.' I had to park in the Peace Pagoda car park, which is across Brickhill Street from The Chrysalis Theatre. I knew it wouldn't be a good idea to park in the Camphill car park, as it was unlikely to be enough space. I had to use the ticket machine and work out how to use it, as it had contactless payment. Once that was done, I walked over the bridge and entered the Camphill campus from the opposite side to where I usually enter. On arriving in the foyer of The Chrysalis, I was totally surprised by the number of people who were waiting to go into the theatre. I estimate there were more than a hundred people. The seating had been set up, which pulls out from one of the walls in the theatre, and has raked seats built in. 

The show was brilliant! There were a few prompts but never mind. Most of the cast knew their lines, and some didn't. The audience loved it all and laughed in all the right places. As a result, the actors played up to the reactions they got. The performance was videoed, so there will be a record for the future. It will be great to be able to watch on my television set, via YouTube or Vimeo.

Sunday. 8.00 a.m. Yet another bright and mild morning. I was out with Alfie at around 7.15 and there was a huge moon in the sky, so I had to go and get my iPhone and photograph it. I'm not entirely sure the result was successful, but at least I tried.

12.45 p.m. We had another Café Church session at the Oaktree Centre this morning. The only problem I have is, that, in a relatively small space, with a lot of people, when everyone is talking, you can barely hear what is being said. In some respect, it's not a problem, but not being able to hear properly is.

On the way home from The Oaktree Centre, I drove down Chaffron Way as usual. It's no more than a ten-minute drive and generally totally without incident. But driving down the long stretch between the Watling Street roundabout and the roundabout at Grafton Street, I had a BMW on my tail. It came up behind my car and was so close it was somewhat intimidating. I think this sort of behaviour is done deliberately, usually to get me to get out of the way. I was doing around 45-50 m.p.h., so I wasn't exactly crawling along. But there are some drivers, usually male, that simply can't tolerate another car in front of them. Then, around the point where there were chevrons along the middle of the road, I think where vehicles would go if they were turning right for The Bowl, the driver put his foot down and overtook me. Having just looked up 'chevrons' on the Highway Code website, I read that you're not supposed to enter this area unless there's an emergency, and this certainly wasn't an emergency. He shot off at great speed, probably between 70-80 m.p.h., and it was very unnerving, to say the least. Mind you, it was rather a pointless exercise for him, because by the time I reached the Grafton Street roundabout, he had to wait in a queue of around six cars to enter the roundabout, so, his speeding past me was a waste of time and energy.

Things Can Only Get Better?

Tuesday. 4.30 p.m. Tuesdays are my Camphill days, as you will know if you follow my blog posts regularly. I volunteered to work as a support in the theatre workshop. I've been going there every Tuesday since around April 2019, although I didn't go during the various lockdowns caused by the COVID-19 pandemic. The regular group have been working on a production of 'Twelfth Night', and there are two performances this Friday and Saturday. Today, far more residents were involved, bringing the total in the group to around thirty. Their job is to be the orchestra, provide some music and various sound effects, and be sailors and party-goers in a couple of scenes. Today, the group ran through the play and was supposed to have learned their lines. Some managed really well, although a couple really needed to spend a bit more time learning their lines and also the cues where they were supposed to enter and exit.

Wednesday. 8.35 a.m.  Goodness grief! I was sitting in my lounge, reading. Actually about Milton Keynes, in a book called 'When The Lights Went Out: What Really Happened In Britain In The Seventies,'  written by Andy Beckett. It was a gang of three Mears employees, who come to check the fire alarms. I was told they were coming today when I had a telephone call last week. I was hoping that they might be able to fit the extractor fan in the kitchen, but, pigs might fly, as they say. No hope of that happening any day soon. Now I suppose I'll have to sit in here all day for them to actually do some work. But I thought I had new fire alarms fitted, some time ago. 

It turns out that the old fire alarms were faulty! New ones have been fitted, even one in my bedroom. So, someone sold Milton Keynes Council fire alarms which are not fit for purpose. The Mears electricians have also fitted a device to my alarm system, which I call if I have a fall or some other incident, which automatically calls the system if there is a fire and they call me to find out if I'm alright. I think all this is after the devastating fire that killed 72 people in the Grenfell Tower fire in 2017.

Thursday. 2.00 p.m. I took out Alfie at around 1.30. I saw a van draw up and a host of bright orange hi-vis-clad workmen get out and it was clear that they were going to be litter picking. The amount of litter which is left around Oldbrook Green and on and around the path alongside Strudwick Drive has got worse recently. I think people have just become lazy and the same applies to dog walkers who don't pick up after their dogs. It's not the dogs' fault and the owners should be entirely responsible for their dogs. The green dog bins which are scattered around Oldbrook Green used to have bags which dog owners could use to pick up after their dogs, but it seems they are no longer provided by Milton Keynes Council. No doubt in an attempt to cut costs, but, as a result, it has meant owners have become lazy and don't provide their own bags, hence, no doubt, the increase in dog fowling. There are clear signs around the green that there is a fine if you are caught not complying, but what is the point of this if there is nobody around to police this?