Day By Day

 Monday. 7.10 a.m. I have been out with Alfie. I've only just come back indoors. There's been a further incident with another thoughtless person. We were walking down the path towards Oldbrook Green and I had just picked up after Alfie. Almost before I could stand up, a red bicycle (I think it was one of the Santander electric bicycles.) came roaring past, giving me barely a second to stand aside. The rider was wearing a hood, so absolutely no sight of his/her face. Then they shot over Oldbrook Boulevard and then into Fishermead. No slowing down to let me get out of the way, or any word of apology. It really took me by surprise and I was left reeling. Why not just slow down when someone is in your way? At least apologize. People are always in such a hurry. Look at what happened to me yesterday, with the driver who tailgated me on the way home from church. (see yesterday's blog post.) 

Tuesday. 7.00 a.m. It's quite chilly this morning.

4.30 p.m. Another great day at Camphill, in the theatre workshop.

As usual, the morning began with a check-in. The chairs are arranged in a circle and Terrie goes around to see how everyone is feeling and what they have been up to. It gets everyone talking and if there are any problems they can be sorted out. In August, there is to be a 'play in a week' event, which is, as the title suggests, going to create and perform a play in a week.

The group is now developing stories and characters for silent movies. We did a really great exercise to create stories. We were broken up into pairs and one of the pair started telling a story, a fairytale or well-known story and as we told the story, the other person kept butting in and saying, 'what happened next?' or 'that's not correct', the idea being to change the plot and get things moving in a different direction.

Not only that, but we did an exercise to show how a particular type of character would move, based on commedia  del'arte, which would be the basis for any character that will appear in the silent movies we are going to create. Then Terrie bought out a large white sheet of paper to write down suggestions members of the group had on the type of stories they wanted to create for their movies. In other words, a brainstorming session. This went down a storm and produced some great ideas. Over the lunch period, Terrie worked on and used the information she had got to create three separate storylines which would be the basis for three separate movies. It will be interesting to see what comes of all our work today and next week we will start developing the characters further into some sort of workable script for each movie.

Quite an exhausting day, particularly as we did so much movement, but certainly a great success.

Wednesday. 7.30 a.m. Yet another really bright and sunny morning. There was a real sound of a bird singing which I could hear even before I got outside with Alfie at about 5.50. 

1.45 p.m. I went to Sainsbury's for a few items this morning. I was there just after nine o'clock. I used one of the self-service tills to check out and pay. There were plenty free to use. I'm not over-enthusiastic about their use, as you will have realized if you read my blog regularly. I found one, but the one next to the machine I intended to use was making odd noises to itself. Sort of sounding like it was going to burst into life. The one I was on decided that one item wasn't going to go in the bagging area without a problem, so a member of staff had to come and sort it out. I reckon these machines are sentient. They certainly have a way of breaking down at the least provocation.

I am completing a piece of writing that links two bits which are already written and means I can introduce the new character I have already got devised. Things are really ramping up, and I have ideas for a further story arc.

Things Can Only Get Better?

 Friday. 10.50 a.m. It's another bright and sunny morning, but there is still quite a gusty wind.

Saturday. 12.20 p.m. It's quite windy today. I can hear it whistling around outside Dexter House as I write this. The sun is out, and it's reasonably mild, but little else.

Not a lot to report on here. Just another regular sort of day. I went to Aldi to do a shop. I was there around 9.15, and I was in and out of the store within about thirty minutes. A good deal quicker than if I'd gone to Sainsbury's. I think it's because it's a smaller store, with fewer choices, so you don't stand in the aisle attempting to decide which product to buy. The tills are faster, because they've designed their packaging so the bar codes are easier to find and scan, and you pack straight into your trolley and then pack your bags on a shelf. But I can manage to pack straight into my bags. In the process, I think I save around a third, compared to the price of a full shop in, say, Tesco, Morrisons or Sainsbury's. Certainly no loss of quality.

I have now managed to write around 24 pages of new material, which is now transferred from handwritten to word processing. That is somewhere in the region of 6,400 words. It's nowhere near complete, and I am still working on it so that it can be assimilated into what I have already written.

Sunday. 6.15 a.m. The clocks have moved forward one hour. This is the time I usually take Alfie out. I have a feeling that it has rained in the night because I think I can hear the rain outside (just as well it's not inside.) I have checked my bank account by going online. The balance is fine, which means I can go and put fuel in the car before I go to church.

7.15 a.m. Having now been out with Alfie, we discovered a light rain as we came out onto Strudwick Drive and the path awash. It was like walking in a river. Alfie would rather go back indoors, but after I'd picked up after him and went to the bin across Oldbrook Boulevard, we walked home.

1.15 p.m. I have been to church, but on the way, I went to the Esso filling station in Child's Way to fill the car with diesel. I went via Marlborough Street, and no sooner had I turned into Childs Way on the roundabout, that the alarm went off in the car, to warn me that the fuel level was low. I have had the car for around five years and never, in all that time, has that alarm gone off. I knew the fuel level was low because I have been keeping an eye on the fuel gauge.

Having left the Oaktree Centre after church, I had just got on Chaffron Way to return home, when a car came right up behind me, insisting that I get out of the way. I was going around 45-50, which seems a reasonable speed to be doing. The driver would not reduce his speed and remain tailgating me until I got to the roundabout on Fulmer Street, so I decided to peel off to the left. These incidents seem to be getting worse. It seems totally out of order. People don't seem to have any respect for other drivers and just want you to get out of their way, or else. I find it totally unnerving to have a car behind me, almost touching the bumper of my car.

5.45 p.m. Watching the Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race on BBC1 (which has just finished, with Cambridge winning both  the men's and women's races.) I'm intrigued by the commentators. Why do they all have such oversized microphones (this is the same with all sports commentators, especially motorsports.)? Is it some sort of 'we're big and important, so we have to stand out by holding such oversized microphones? Technically, they surely don't need to hold a microphone, and not each has one. They could easily have small mics that clip onto their clothing. I think it might be so they have something to hold. They're props. If they didn't have them to hold, they wouldn't know what to do with their hands. Then, why do each of the commentators have them? With four people, it must be difficult for the sound operators to keep the sound balance.

Spring Is Sprung? (But Not Quite)

Wednesday. 6.25 a.m. I was awake at 5 o'clock, so I decided to change my duvet cover and all my bedding. Not my favourite occupation and so, rather than merely thinking about it, I got on with it. So, all the bedding taken off can go in the wash at 2 o'clock this afternoon.

Alfie and I were out around 5.45 this morning. Am I crazy? (Please don't answer that.) But it is light at that time, so it seemed a good idea to take his nibs out. Another trot around Oldbrook Green.l It's been raining overnight, as there is clear evidence by the fact the ground is wet and a very thin drizzle falling.

Thursday. 6.15 a.m. Much the same as yesterday. Out at around 5.45.

12.30 p.m. I've been to the Oaktree Centre to help set up and pack up the Acorn's playgroup, as I usually do  on a Thursday morning. Driving along Chaffron Way I encountered another tailgating driver in a BMW. I was driving at a reasonable speed, which, as far as I am concerned is safe, probably 45-50 mph. Suddenly, the drive of the car decided that I wasn't moving fast enough for him and overtook me, which meant he had to drive on the section of the road which had chevrons on it. I think it's the same part of the road where I had a similar experience of a driver deciding I wasn't getting out of the way for him, but driving in the other direction when I was a driving home from home a few weeks ago. It is somewhat unsettling, and I don't think these tailgaters really care about the effect it has on you. Speeding fast and not caring about anyone else is unacceptable. Many drivers around Milton Keynes are under the mistaken impression that you don't need to slow down and stop when you get to a roundabout. At a later roundabout, a car narrowly missed me as I drove through. I don't like the idea that you signal with your indicators when you are driving ahead on a roundabout. When I was learning to drive, which was in the late 1960s, you used your indicators to turn either right or left, certainly not to go ahead. Mind you, in those days, you used hand signals to show where you intended to move. You stuck your hand out of the driving side window and if you were slowing down, your moved your hand in a circular motion and if right, you stuck your hand out. Not sure how you indicated left, probably stuck your foot out of the passenger side window (only joking!) It seems crazy, thinking about it now. I think if you were to do that today, you would get your arm knocked off! It just shows how driving has changed over the last 50 or so years.

It's quite windy today, even though the sun is shining.

4.35 p.m. The Postman came mid-morning (they seem to be coming a good deal earlier than they usually deliver.) and within the usual junk mail, I got my repeat prescription from Lloyd's Direct, which has come from my app order. I have mentioned that Lloyd's in Sainsbury's is closing down and I would need to find a different pharmacy to make up my medications. I set the app up to take my order and this was a trial to see whether it was going to work. I assumed that the delivery would be made by a van, but isn't. It comes via Royal Mail.

Alfie was booked into Pets At Home in Bletchley to have a grooming session. I left Dexter House at around 1.40 to drive there, and it was easy enough to park outside as usual. I had to wait a few minutes before I could let the groomers get to work as the place was extremely busy. We wandered around the store and they returned. I had found lumps on Alfie's head and on his body, which look as if they might be bites or perhaps warts. I had to tell the groomer because I was concerned that they might cut into them when it was clipped. I left him and then went across to Tesco's to use the toilet and then to Timpson, who has a unit outside, to buy some heel grips for a pair of shoes I bought on Amazon. I almost always find that, when I buy new shoes, the heels can rub until they are broken in, and these adhesive grips help with this problem. 

I collected Alfie at 3.30. I went back into Pets At Home and I could see that they were still working on grooming Alfie, so I didn't want to go into the grooming parlour because I knew if he saw me, he would probably bark, and it would make the groomers work difficult. So I went and wandered about the store for a bit longer before going in to collect Alfie. 

I have to say, he looked so much better for being clipped. He always does. You can see his face properly because they managed to tidy up around his eyes. He was looking really unkempt, and I don't like to see him untidy. We drove back home and I discovered a parcel from Amazon on the doorstep. I had ordered an electric pencil sharpener and a podiatry set. This is because my toenails need cutting and the set of clippers isn't very good. The set is excellent and comes with a set of various instruments for not just your toenails but also your fingernails. As usual, something which I wouldn't have found elsewhere.

8.10 p.m. As I write this, it's raining quite hard.

Time and Tide

 Saturday. 7.40 a.m. It's another rather pleasant morning. Alfie and I did our usual walk around Oldbrook Green. There are daffodils blooming and blossom coming out all around Milton Keynes and suggesting quite clearly that spring is in the air.

1.00 p.m. We had our monthly men's breakfast at the Oaktree Centre this morning. I had to get some cash out of a cash point and needed help figuring out where to go. There are a number of these machines, also known as A.T. Ms (Automated Teller Machines) to be found around Milton Keynes and I wanted to have the cash with me to pay for the food we would get. In the end, I chose the ATM outside the Tesco Express in Oldbrook Boulevard.

Sunday. 7.20 a.m. Alfie and I went out at around 5.50 this morning. It was light, so I didn't see the point of hanging about in bed. 

3.50 p.m. I have resubscribed to two streaming services which I had been subscribed to but had cancelled a few months ago, basically because I had problems when they didn't work properly. I think the problems have been resolved sufficiently. The first was Britbox, the app on which it is viewed on my Amazon  Firestick, which now doesn't seem to crash like it did before. I watched several episodes of the original 'Doctor Who', 'Planet of Giants,' which was shown in October 1964, and was the ninth story from the very first incarnation of this BBC science fiction series. I remember the very early days of 'Doctor Who' and must have seen it when it was originally shown. I suppose I would have been about 14 when it was shown and probably the right age to be the audience it was aimed at. I was intrigued by the whole concept, the idea of time travel and the fact that every few weeks, when the Doctor and his companions arrived at a new planet at the beginning of each story, to discover where they were and what they would meet. I think it was what made 'Doctor Who' such a clever format, changing so often and keeping it fresh. The show was made on a shoestring, but it didn't make a lot of difference to the quality of the storytelling. A bit ropey in the special effects department, but the novelty of the whole show was what made it so watchable. This particular story had a slight 'eco' element to it (which I won't give away here.) which makes it relevant to a modern audience. I am surprised by how good it is, and I'm so glad to be able to see it after almost 60 years.

The other subscription is to 'National Theatre At Home', which streams recordings of National Theatre productions, which have been captured at 'live' performances, and some were shown 'live' in cinemas. The production I have just watched was 'Jack Absolute Flies Again' which is a reworking of the Richard Brinsley Sheridan 1775 play 'The Rivals'  by Oliver Chris and Richard Bean, who wrote 'One Man, Two Guvnors', which was a reworking of the Goldoni play 'The Servant of Two Masters and has Caroline Quentin in the role of Mrs Malaprop. A rip-roaring production and hilarious. Some of Mrs Malaprop's malapropisms don't always work and are somewhat over-egged, but I think you can forgive that some are somewhat rude, especially for a family audience, but that doesn't detract from the sheer energy of the production.

Monday. 6.45 a.m. Out earlier than yesterday with Alfie. We again did the circuit of Oldbrook Green, but not a lot to report.

Mild And Sunny

Wednesday. 7.10 a.m. It's a bright and sunny morning as I write this, but, when I took Alfie out, around 6 o'clock, I discovered a light frost on the grass. We walked around Oldbrook Green and saw a van draw up at the bus shelter near 'The Cricketer's' pub the driver get out and sprayed anti-freeze spray on the windscreen and then attempt to scrape it off. I was thinking, as I saw this, why he hadn't done this before he'd started the journey and therefore driving with so much ice on his windscreen.

3.40 p.m. I'm continuing with the writing project. I got so far with the changes I've made so that I can introduce a new character, but I gave it a break as I work out the next stage of the plotting, which is perhaps the most challenging part of writing. The actual hard graft of writing is relatively easy. It's the structure of a piece that is difficult, working out what goes where who meets whom where and when etc.

Thursday. 6.55 a.m. I have mentioned the fact that the pharmacy which makes up my repeat prescriptions, Lloyd's within Sainsbury's store is closing, which means I have to find another pharmacy to make up the prescriptions. I wanted to use Lloyd's online system and order via their app. Several days ago I downloaded the app onto my iPad and began to set up an account, so the ordering would take place through that. All very well, and I'm happy to do that. But I didn't get the email which would mean I could input all the medication I take so that the pharmacy could make up my order. But it has now come this morning and I have spent around thirty minutes inputting everything as required. Quite fiddly, and I am now concerned that it will actually work when I need to order. As I have been using the tried and tested method of ordering my meds for around 15 years, about from the time I married Carol, all this change is a trifle unsettling until it has settled in and working successfully.

1.20 p.m. I've been to The Oaktree Centre to help with setting up the playgroup. I was more than a little bit surprised that Chaffron Way was more or less devoid of the usual gridlock I normally have to endure. It transpired, having spoken to people at The Oaktree Centre, about this lack of gridlock that it was most likely because school teachers are on strike today. If that's the case, is it possible that almost all of that traffic would have been parents taking their children to school? Seems crazy. Can't the majority of them either walk or go by bicycle? Ferrying children about is crazy. They should learn to be more self-reliant. I used to cycle to school and it never hurt me. In fact, I quite liked the idea of being independent.

Friday. 7.20 a.m.  Another relatively mild morning on the weather front.

I was out with Alfie at around 5.50 this morning. Immediately outside on the pavement alongside Strudwick Drive there were two electric scooters, the type seen being ridden around Milton Keynes. They were there yesterday morning at the same time. It seems crazy to have them left like this and in the middle of the path which would get in the way of anyone either pushing a child in a buggy or someone in an electric scooter, such as those used by tenants at Dexter House. I assume, if you use one of these devices, you set up an account on your tablet or mobile, by downloading an app, and then, when you want to use one, you 'unlock' one using a pin or something and then ride off and then leave it at your point of arrival. I have seen the staff of the company who run these electric scooters come out and retrieve them, no doubt finding them because they have some sort of connection to GPS technology which would show where they are situated on a tablet, laptop or mobile device of some sort. It just seems crazy to me to have these scooters left in such problematic places which might be in the way of other users of the road, path or whatever and especially those with sight problems who might crash into them totally unaware they are in their way.

Drama Workshop At Camphill (And A Few Minor Matters!)

Monday. 7.55 a.m. It's a somewhat blustery morning as I write this blog post. Alfie and I ventured forth, as we usually do early morning, to find plastic bags being blown along the path as we walked towards Oldbrook Green. Only a day ago I remember almost slipping over on the paving slabs on the path in more or less the same place where the plastic bag was being wafted about in the breeze. 

A blustery day makes me think of Winnie The Pooh. Disney made an animated film of the A.A. Milne story, Winnie The Pooh and The Blustery Day. I think it was shown in cinemas with a full-length Disney film, but I have no idea what it was.

10.45 a.m. I have had a letter from Milton Keynes Council regarding my rent, which is going up. I couldn't make head nor tail about how much I was actually going to pay, and then I was told that my account was actually in credit by a considerable amount. I had been paying too much. This is good news, but you would think, someone would let you know, probably giving a statement or similar which broke down how much I had paid.

I've taken Alfe out again, and we walked around Oldbrook Green. We bumped into Woody, one of Alfie's friends, a large rather ugly dog, with a flat face, which resembled the dog which appears in the 'Tom and Jerry cartoons. Big, stupid and with a loud bark. Sort of, his bark was worse than his bite. Anyway, Woody comes up to me and gives me a look and thinks he's going to get a treat from me, but I rarely have dog treats in my pockets, so he was somewhat disappointed when I didn't produce one. We walked on around the Green, but it threatened to rain, so we needed to get back quickly. It is really windy and there's a definite chill in the air, almost enough to freeze your face. I think it's very likely we'll get another load of snow.

Tuesday. 6.35 a.m. I was awake in the night. I'm not entirely sure what time it was, but probably around 1.30. There was a sudden rainstorm. I could hear it rattling on the windows, and then I could see raindrops running down the glass outside. As I write this, it's relatively calm and dry, but I expect there to be puddles along the road and possible flash floods around Milton Keynes.

4.30 p.m. I have just got home from a day at Camphill. It's been a really packed day. Terrie has been away for several weeks as her father is ill and has been in hospital. But she was back in charge today. As usual,, we had the regular check-in, which seems to take longer and longer each time. Last week they had videoed an improvised silent film (I wasn't at Camphill last week.) which was shown projected onto the large cinema screen, which is electronically bought in from above the stage level.

Mitchell, who is a third member of the leadership team in the theatre workshop, and who is a musician who created music for 'Twelfth Night', is currently on holiday in Bulgaria with his girlfriend. The holiday was delayed because of the travel restrictions which came in due to the COVID-19 pandemic. The holiday is at a skiing resort, but Mitchell damaged a leg so can't partake in any skiing, so is spending time relaxing in the hotel where they are staying. He had sent Terrie pictures which obviously showed that he was bored, having to sit around in the hotel, so she decided to send him photographs of the drama group on 'holiday', but constructed out of photographs found on the internet and then projected onto the cinema screen and with members of the drama team standing in front of the screen. It may sound crazy, and everyone had fun deciding where they would like to go on holiday. Then Terrie took photographs of the team standing in front of these photographs and in a variety of poses. 

After tea break, Terrie gets us all doing an exercise based on character archetypes, the sort of characters you would find in a silent film, and in turn, as seen in traditional melodramas in theatre, such as 'The Villain', 'The Hero', and 'The Damsel In Distress.' 

After lunch, we had to mime the archetypes, all without speaking. Actually quite difficult.

The final session of the day, this time, after the afternoon tea break, we were broken into groups of about five or six and had to improvise a short sketch, based on what we learnt. I lead one of the groups and the improvisation was about a couple living in a house and not being able to afford to pay their rent and the landlord, the 'Evil Villain' came in and demanded they pay their rent, which had presumably been increased., The 'The Hero' came in, who was going to pay their rent for them. It ended with 'The Hero' coming back and having a fight with 'The Villain' and winning with the two 'Damsels In Distress' (the tenants, smashing 'The Villain' over the head with a saucepan (mimed!) and throwing 'The Villain' out! All through this, I directed the piece.

Impartial Media?

 Saturday. 6.05 a.m. It's a completely different sort of day, on the weather front, compared with yesterday morning. It is mild and snow free. It hardly seems possible things could change so drastically, but that is what the weather in this country is like changing virtually hourly.

6.35 p.m. After the row caused by Gary Lineker, the BBC football pundit who made some comment about the Government's immigration proposals, which contravened BBC impartiality rules, many of the usual football programmes on BBC1 have either been cancelled or cut short. As someone who isn't a football fan, I find the fact that virtually all of BBC1 on a Saturday is taken over by football totally unacceptable. It has to be the most boring sport ever invented and when they have any sort of programme on the subject, they have talking heads who waffle on and on endlessly about the game. So, as far as I am concerned, they can keep him off our screens for as long as possible.

Sport seems to get more than its a fair share of screen time on television, on all channels. Whenever there's a big football game, it can often displace other programmes and it's not just the actual game which takes over, but we have to endure hour after hour of droning 'so-called' pundits rambling on and on and on. So, while we have all this sports stuff, why is there nothing about the arts? We used to have a raft of art magazines on television, Omnibus and Arena on BBC channels and on ITV, 'The South Bank Show.' You could hardly move for adaptations of stage plays on television on BBC1 during the 1960s and 1970s. On a Sunday evening on BBC1, 'Play of The Month' showed adaptations of world theatre, such as Ibsen, Shaw, Shakespeare and many more. No doubt they didn't get very high audience ratings, but at least the BBC wasn't churning out endless soaps, game shows and reality television shows. Or shows with 'so-called celebrities in them. 

The arts seem to be sidelined in many areas of life. The government treats the arts as something that shouldn't be taken seriously, particularly in education. It should cover a wide range of pursuits, not just fine arts, but also music and drama. But it most definitely should be taken seriously, because drama and music particularly lead to jobs which are important to the economy of the country. You only have to consider theatre, with big West End productions drawing sizeable audiences. Then there are the subsidiary employment activities which are important to the theatre, such as costume design and making, set design and building, lighting, and management, both backstage and front of house. This then leads on to cinema, with similar subsidiary employment in front of and behind the camera. Photography, set design, editing and so on. This, too, with television. Never more so, with the growth of streaming services such as Netflix, Disney + and Britbox. And, of course, traditional television services such as BBC, ITV, Channel 4 and 5, all producing not just drama but other genres of programming.

As regards the arts on television, why are art programmes hidden in the schedules? If BBC1 or BBC2 has an arts magazine, it's almost always aired in a late-night slot. Very rarely would it be shown earlier in the evening, say, 7p.m. Even when ITV had 'The South Bank Show', it would be shown around 10.30 p.m. on a Sunday.

Snow, Snow Quick Quick, Snow!

 Wednesday. 6.55 a.m. It's quite cold out. A bit of a shock, even though we had been warned that wintery weather was going to return. I think it's relatively mild by comparison with the rest of the country, particularly in the north and Scotland. According to Carol Kirkwood on BBC Breakfast, there is a 26º difference between the north and the south of the United Kingdom. As I write this, there is a very thin fall of snow. Whether it settles and causes problems,  it remains to be seen.

Thursday. 6.50 a.m. It has been snowing overnight. It is still falling as I write this, but it seems to be a flurry and only a light covering of the garden which I can see from my kitchen window and along the grass where I take Alfie when we go out, beside Strudwick Drive. It would appear, from watching the weather forecast on BBC Breakfast a few minutes ago, that this wintry weather is likely to remain for the next week or two, but the north of England and into Scotland will have the heaviest falls of snow and that travel will become hazardous. In fact, an Amber weather warning has been declared in those areas with up to 16 inches of snow covering the ground.

I learned from Barbara who is the SHO at Dexter House (Sheltered Housing Officer) that she had handed in her notice. This means we will be having someone new take over her job in around two months' time. She has been in the job for three years and started in January after I moved here in 2019.

12.20 p.m. The writing of the new piece I  have mentioned elsewhere in these posts is going better than expected. It is now on it's second draft and, like most bits of writing, it's likely to go through further rewrites and drafts.

1.40 p.m. The snow has now turned into rain. I don't think the snow which is covering the garden and on the grass alongside Strudwick Drive (and elsewhere, Oldbrook Green and the entirety of Milton Keynes) will be around much longer. We are going to be left with soggy and very wet conditions underfoot once it has melted entirely.

Friday. 6.50 a.m. The laying snow (is that the correct form to describe snow which is on the ground? I'm not sure, but never mind.) has gone overnight, as I thought it would. But when I took Alfie out around fifteen minutes ago, there was a thin, but chilly fall of rain, which, as I write this, had turned into snow. So, winter has returned with a vengeance. But, compared to the rest of the country, we seem to have escaped the worst of this weather. I noticed that Hawes, a village in Yorkshire, had been shown on the BBC Breakfast weather map. It's a place near where Carol and I stayed when we had a holiday in Yorkshire a few years ago. I can imagine that if they had snow there, it would make life very difficult, with drifts making driving more or less impossible.

4.55 p.m. I'm making good headway with my writing. I have done a rewrite on something I wrote yesterday. It's got far more dialogue in it. Dialogue is notoriously difficult to write. It doesn't always read as natural speech. But this has begun to gel, and it will make a transition between two different sections of the piece.

The snow has gone. I can see absolutely no sign of any as I looked out of my kitchen window a few minutes ago. We seem to have gone through several seasons' worth of weather within the last 24 hours, from winter, with snow flurries and what could have developed into deep snow, to sunny and bright and almost spring-like weather.

Tiresome Tech

 Monday. 7.10 a.m. I have spent the past two days (actually, I have a feeling it may be far more than that.) attempting to get my Canon Pixma printer to work. When I first bought it home, having purchased it from Argos, I had absolutely no problems setting it up and actually managing to get it to print. But now it simply refuses to work. I have now bought it into my lounge from the bedroom, where it has sat on its trolley. It is now plugged in, and I will have another attempt to get it to work. I think I will probably have to ring the Canon helpline and get a technician there to sort the problem out.

10.30 a.m. I have the Canon printer working. I rang the helpline and the technician on the other end of the line went through several options to get the thing up and running. I am not going to describe everything on here, suffice it to say, we went through around three options and the final one worked, much to my relief.

I've been to Sainsbury's, as I needed some food items to take with me in my pack-up when I go to Camphill tomorrow. When I got back to Dexter House, there were workmen in the entrance, with the manhole covers removed, and it looked as if they were about to put something down the drain to unblock the system. This has been on the cards for months, so perhaps the water from my bath and sink will flow better once this has been done. Having spoken to Barbara, the SHO (Sheltered Housing Officer) she told me that they had put a camera down the drain. What on earth were they expecting to see down there? One dreads to think. Does it now mean they are going to use some sort of rod to unblock the drain? But, more importantly, what is blocking the drains within Dexter House? The excitement is just overwhelming. I know, but someone said that sarcasm was the lowest form of wit. You just need some of that around here.

Tuesday. 7.00 a.m. Today would have been Carol's 59th birthday. I am staying at home and not going to Camphill. I am fine, just having a day to myself. They have raised the age when you can retire. I'm not sure what the current age is, but she kept saying that, because of the age being raised, she was never going to retire. For women, the retirement age is currently 67.

I was awake at around 5.45, and I looked out of the window and saw snow falling. But it hasn't settled. Apparently, according to Carol Kirkwood on BBC Breakfast, we're likely to get more snow across the country in the next couple of days and it will settle. There was a warning that transport will be disrupted.

12.20 p.m. I am beginning to write new material which will link to the new character I have developed. It means I have to unpick some of what I had already written in order for this material to be put into my writing and introduce a new character.

Wednesday. 3.30 a.m. Well, here I am, in the middle of the night, sitting here on my MacBook, writing this blog post. My pension has gone into my account. I have checked the balance of my account via the bank's website. I have paid my service charge (monthly payment for such things as water, utilities etc.) and done my daily Bible reading, I had drunk a mug of tea and now I can't get back to sleep! 

Weekend Writing and Printer Hitches (and other matters)

 Saturday. 4.00 a.m. So, here I am once more, not being able to sleep and feeling really hungry. So I decide to make myself toast and put some of the raspberry conserve on it which I had I bought in Sainsbury's about a week ago. (Incidentally, conserve isn't jam, because it has a higher concentration of fruit compared to jam. I'm not sure of the percentage, but its a good deal higher, which means it's got more fruity flavour.) So, I organize my workspace in the kitchen and get out the toaster and make three slices of bread into, what else? Toast! As well as toast, a mug of tea. Then I go into the lounge and decide, after some consideration, to watch something on BBC iPlayer and watch an old episode of 'W1A', the spoof documentary series which stars Hugh Bonneville amongst other actors. Actually, it's not ''old' in the sense of being old, or ancient, in the sense that it's 30-40 or more years old. If you get what I mean. Or from the BBC archives, such as something by Frankie Howerd or Harry Secombe. I love this show. It's not going to appeal to a lot of people. I think you have to appreciate the wordplay, the dialogue is almost circuitous. People speak in a sort of new speak (the language used in Orwells '1984.' They go to meetings which never seem to produce anything. They have jobs which have titles which don't have any real function. Its management for management's sake. The show is what I think you'd call a docudrama, or, at least a spoof of one. Dramady, (ie: Drama/comedy.) David Tennant does a rather fine job of providing the voice-over, which is what you always get in these 'reality' documentaries. Even that has a hint of mangled words, and twisted language, for want of a better word. It's interesting that he is used as he does a lot of genuine voice-over work on other 'real' documentaries, which gives a sort of realism to the fiction.

7.15 a.m. I've been out with Alfie. We did the obligatory circuit of Oldbrook Green and I now have 2480 sets registered on my FitBit. It's quite chilly, and we have been warned, on BBC Breakfast, that its going to become colder over the next few days, and there will even be snow in parts of the United Kingdom.

10.10 a.m. I have given Alfie a bath! He was getting rather smelly, and it seemed a good idea to clean him up. He goes for a haircut on 23rd March, which is quite a long time to wait. I have to organize things before he goes in the bath, for example, closing the bedroom door, because I don't want a wet dog on my bed. I have to take off his harness and collar before he goes in the water. I run a few inches of warm water into the bath before he goes in and use a plastic jug, bought for the purpose, to rinse off the shampoo, which is a product intended for use when bathing dogs. It doesn't create too much lather, which is easy to rinse off. I also use the shower, taking off the device which fits on the wall, to help rinse off the lather. He was filthy and the water showed how dirty he was. I think he likes being made a fuss off, particularly when I work the shampoo into his coat. Once he's washed, he comes out of the bath and I towel him dry, as much as possible, but, like all dogs who get wet, he shakes himself to take off most of the water. I then gave him a bit of a brush, and he's now settled down on the sofa, smelling a good deal better than before the bath!

Sunday. 7.15 a.m. Alfie came to me in bed and keep staring at me. I didn't pick up what he was doing and why, but then I thought he might need to go out. He barked, so I confined him to the lounge by closing the door and then went into the bathroom to get dressed. By the time I came out, dressed and ready to go out, I realized he'd had a 'little accident' on the floor. I managed to clear it up, and I now realize that the treats I gave him might have had 'consequences' such as the accident. Then I scooped him up, and we went out and onto the grass alongside Strudwick Drive. 

I have completed the transfer of the handwritten piece of writing onto word processing. I wanted to read it on a printed copy, so I set up the MacBook and the Canon printer, but the printer steadfastly refused to function. So, we're back on the 'dysfunctional printer' mode, which I thought had been rectified with the new Canon, but obviously not. I have a feeling that it might be possible to sort this out by resetting the printer, by whatever means, like a factory reset. I have attempted, but during this, the printer decided to print out two copies of what I had wanted. How, I don't know, as it wasn't connected to the Wi-Fi or the MacBook. I think it may have been enabled because the printer would supposedly have all the print data stored within itself and so could print those two copies. There is no other explanation for this. But I have now managed to read the print copy of the new piece of writing, and I am more than pleased with it and now I can continue with my writing. But still, the printer is causing a headache.

4.25 p.m. I'm watching the 'Great British Pottery Throw Down, which is on Channel 4, but I watch via catch-up. I'm not a great lover of some of the competitions on television, especially 'Strictly Come Dancing.' It's too hyped for my liking and anything with so-called 'celebrities' is a turn-off and some of the things which the judges say can be really nasty. That's not so with the pottery 'Throw Down.' No celebrities in sight, and the judges don't come out with nasty comments. Having attempted pottery at college, I found it very difficult to throw anything on a wheel and didn't succeed with it. I'm better at other areas of art, photography and creative writing are my thing.

Lockdown Fallout

 Thursday. 7.05 a.m. I've been out with Alfie.

2.15 p.m. I've been to the Oaktree Centre as I have for quite a few months now, helping to set up and pack away the gear for the Acorns playgroup. Then, at 10 o'clock, into one of the side rooms for Bible study. I drove home and had some lunch, watching an episode of Bargain Hunt, which I hadn't seen in ages. It's been running on BBC1 since about 2000. Two teams of two have one hour to find three antiques at an antique fair or in an antique shop and then sell the items for a profit, which, if they win, they keep. Each team has an antique expert who helps them decide which items to buy and then, once the teams have bought their three items, the experts go off with what cash they have left and then buy another bonus item which the teams can either decide to sell or reject. The profit, or loss, is added to the cost of what they sell. More challenging than it seems. Along the way you learn about various items and at the midpoint of the show the presenter, in this show, it was Charlie Ross, goes somewhere local to the site of the antiques fair, such as a country house, museum or other historic site and gives a talk about some aspect of that place or a style of antiques, furniture, pottery or whatever.

Friday. 5.15 a.m. I'm wide awake because there is a sound coming from one of the nearby flats. I can hear music, possibly a television on, and a voice. I look out of my door and a man comes out of the flat. I thought I could hear the sound of one of the alarms going off, which all the flats in Dexter House have. I don't know what is going on. I will no doubt discover during the course of the day.

6.05 a.m. I've done some more transcribing my handwritten writing onto word processing. I was awake, so  I thought I'd do some more. It's going well. Now I need to find a way to incorporate this into the rest of my writing. I have some ideas, but at the moment I'm not sure where it's going. Time will tell.

7.20 a.m. So, we're now being able to read the WhatsApp messages which were sent to the then Health Secretary, Matt Hancock to various members of the government during the COVID-19 lockdowns. And which are currently being published in The Daily Telegraph.  It would appear that some ministers as well as government scientists attempted to stop lockdowns because they believed that they would not help the spread of the virus. Also, the use of face masks was said to not be effective. It seems we've been treated like infants and the collateral damage caused by lockdowns, not least the financial damage, caused by closing down businesses, such as pubs, shops, theatres and a whole host of other places of work, not least the mental health damage which has been caused and the destruction of school children's education as well as their mental well-being. We became a police state at one point, with police having the power to fine members of the public for doing innocent things such as taking their dog for a walk, having a picnic or merely having a cup of coffee. There really was no logic to this, because the virus would surely be dispersed by the breeze in the open air. It wasn't like having people crowded together in a confined space, such as a room in a house, an office, or even a lift in a tall building, where people could be in close quarters with other people.  I think people became like sheep, they didn't question any of the lockdown restrictions or lockdown in general. All of these smack of Nazi Germany or life under Stalin or any communist regime. Then we read that certain members of the government, who should have known better, were contemptuous of those who got caught contravening the lockdown regulations. Of course, we then had to find out that Boris Johnson, when he was Prime Minister, along with many other members of his Government, was caught holding parties in 10 Downing Street. Johnson had to own up to all of this and had to pay a fine, although he did his utmost to wriggle out of the truth of all this. You would imagine that members of the government, which forced through the various bits of legislation which set up the regulations, which included people not meeting in groups of around six, with no parties allowed etc would have known that such a party was illegal. Or did they wave it through without thinking and then, if they had a party, no one would find out? Except someone took photographs which proved they did. Shows even more contempt for the public.

All this had a marked effect on my mental health. I lost my lovely wife, Carol, to cancer in December 2018. I spent most of 2019 attempting to come to terms with being on my own and building a new life for myself, starting volunteering at Camphill (which I have mentioned in these posts on many occasions.) But then, having everything held in suspended animation in the early part of 2020 when the first lockdown was introduced. I ended up having to use antidepressants (which, incidentally, I have stopped taking.) Being shut in my flat, not seeing anyone, not being able to go to church, although services were relayed via Facebook, and we had Zoom meetings (although, having access to Zoom was brilliant, and I learned very fast how to use it, and I still do, for certain events which are put on  Zoom.) But, generally, it was very difficult for me, not to be able to interact with other people.

Practically Perfect!

 Tuesday. 7.17 a.m. It's a rather drab and dreary day. 'Quite cold generally', which is how Carol Kirkwood is describing today's weather, as I am watching BBC Breakfast as I write this.

4.35 p.m. I have only this minute got back from another day at Camphill, working in the performing arts workshop in the Chrysalis Theatre. Terrie, who is the leader, wasn't in charge today, because her father is ill, and she was with him. Paul was in charge. One or two of the regular team didn't come, for whatever reason. A new young lady came to work in the workshop. She is a regular support worker at Camphill. I don't know what she thought of the theatre workshop, but she seemed to fit in really well.

The morning got started with the usual 'check-in,' when every member of the team talks about what they've been up to and how they feel. This can take some time. 

Then we did several games, the famous EastEnders game, which I've mentioned in an earlier post and 'Bananas' (which I won't attempt to describe on here.) All I can say, very good to break the ice, and they can be a bit daunting if you've never done anything such as this before, but it certainly gets everyone 'warmed up.' A great deal of this is to get people's voices ready for any speaking they are likely to do, which can be good for anyone with a learning disability. When I rejoined the theatre workshop back in November, after almost two years of being away because of the various lockdowns bought in because of the coronavirus pandemic, I was a bit overwhelmed when I started to interact with the group in these games, particularly as I didn't know how they were played. I intend to get involved in as much of this sort of activity as possible, although some of the games I withdraw from.

The rest of the day was spent watching a range of silent films, a couple with Laurel and Hardy, one of which was the famous film, ''The Music Box,' where they have to deliver a piano to a house up some steps and the series of blunders they make in the process. Typical Laurel and Hardly material. Then, some films with Buster Keaton and then Harold Lloyd. 

After Lunch, we had yet another 'check in' and then we watched one of Morecambe and Wise's famous sketches, the one where they are having breakfast, and all their actions are done to the music of 'The Stripper.' Then, we did some exercises whereby we emulated Laurel and Hardy, with the scene in 'The Music Box', where they are clearing up after the disaster in the house they are delivering to, where Ollie is shifting wood from one place to another and Stan puts it back in exactly the same place, so it ends up with them not getting anywhere with the clearing up. We did it with two teams, with moving chairs and it turns out that they end up back where they started and then another with washing up, with the washed-up dishes are being endlessly recycled and washed. We then had to enact what we'd developed to watch the other team's efforts and then they watched ours.

Wednesday. 7.05 a.m. It is getting light earlier and earlier each morning and this morning, as a result of it being light out, I was out with Alfie at around 6.40 this morning. We did a circuit of Oldbrook Green, because I didn't see the point of wasting the early hour to not build up some footsteps with my FitBit. Looking at the FitBit I have on my wrist, it reads 2081 steps.

10 20 a.m. I've just been to Sainsbury's mainly to pick up a repeat prescription from Lloyd's, whose pharmacy is within the store. I now learn that this pharmacy is going to close in July. We have been ordering our medication from Lloyd's for I don't know how many years and know the staff well. They have been very supportive, particularly when Carol was diagnosed with cancer in 2017 and always manage to get whatever medication we need. So it will be such a shame for this facility to close. I can move to another pharmacy, but it's so easy to park, with the car park underneath the store. There is the option to set up delivery from Lloyd's and have my meds delivered direct to my flat, but it won't be the same without the personal touch. It seems so many companies are disappearing altogether or moving their businesses online. Argos is owned by Sainsbury and its head office is in Milton Keynes, just a stone's throw from Sainsbury's. Many of their high street stores are closing, and Sainsbury's will have Argos pick-up points in their stores. No doubt all this is as a result of the infamous pandemic lockdowns as well as Brexit.  I will be able to adapt to the new way of receiving my medications, but there will be some people, of a 'certain age' who will prefer to have the human contact of going into a store to pick up their medication and might not be able to use the internet to set up their accounts to have their medication delivered directly.

2.05 p.m. I am continuing to transfer handwritten material into word processing. This particular piece of writing was written some while ago, but it seems to fit as the backstory of the new character I want to bring into the project. It may need to be slightly adapted for that use, but, as it hadn't been used or transcribed, it seemed a good idea to use it.