Wheels Came Off The Bus

Saturday. 7.30 a.m. So, the wheels did actually come off the bus with Boris Johnson's resignation. The big question I have is, did he jump, or was he pushed? I think he was totally deluded if he thought he could remain as Prime Minister, considering what has been going on regarding 'so-called' 'Partygate' and the goings-on regarding Chris Pincher (I won't go into details on THAT.) 

This morning I have now moved the unit which had my microwave on it into the lounge. A bit of effort was required to do this, rather like a big game of Tetris. One thing moves, another thing goes into the space created, and then another bit of furniture is moved in. It has taken a considerable amount of thought and effort to achieve this. A bit like when I worked in stage management, working out how scene changes would be achieved, and often in a very short space of time. The problem is, now there's more furniture than the room can really take. It's going to be a bit of a squeeze, which is something of an exaggeration, but I will have to cope until the work in the kitchen is completed. 

12.50 p.m. I now have china and other kitchen items stored in the unit, which I moved from the kitchen (it was opposite the oven. I was hoping I might have got a new unit in that space, and, as there are what must have been screw holes in the wall above, I assume at one time there was a wall unit, but unfortunately I won't get this, as they are only replacing 'old for new.' Shame, but it's just as well I have this unit, which came from Amazon. 

I went into the main Milton Keynes shopping centre around 9.30. I just needed a break from the flat and all the shifting of stuff. I had intended to buy a magazine I have had on occasion, called 'Current Archaeology.' But W.H.Smith, from where I have managed to buy it before, have seen fit to rearrange their magazine section and the magazine doesn't appear to be there. Just very annoying. I think it might be worthwhile having a subscription and, as a result, having each monthly edition delivered, the same way I have two other magazines, 'BBC History Magazine' and 'History Today'.

The mention of those two magazines makes me think about how they are delivered, by the Royal Mail. But there is a slight problem. Well, not actually a problem. You may recall all the flats within Dexter House had their front doors replaced. But the letter box in each of these doors has a flap inside, a sort of curved metal buffer if you like (I can't think of a better way to describe it.) It may be fine if ordinary letters are inserted through the letter box, but with this metal contraption, anything larger, for example, a magazine, will get mangled. Not such a clever device. Meant, one supposes, to prevent smoke from getting into the flat should there be a fire. But nobody tested these things to find out how they would prevent larger items from being put through the letter box. 

Sunday. 5.30 a.m. Another warm and still morning. 

12.35 p.m. I didn't go to church this morning, but watched the service online, via Facebook. 

Currently, the temperature, according to my digital thermometer, is 82ºF. Just quietly roasting, but does it matter? Seems not. I have attempted to get this reduced, but no one will listen. Crazy.

5.00 p.m. Alfie has been for a second visit to the family who is, hopefully, going to look after him when I go to visit Worcester. He seems to be settling down and enjoying being with them. We will have one more session and then let's see what happens next.

Monday. 6.45 a.m. So, this is it! All the waiting, all the frustration, the screaming, the shouting, the stamping of little feet. What am I referring to? Why, of course, the runners and riders in the race to select the replacement for Prime Minister and leader of the Conservative Party after the resignation of Boris Johnson. It makes me laugh when you see the two-faced behaviour of these MPs, one minute, all smiles and patting each other on the back, and, no sooner as any of them come forward as candidates, they're stabbing each other in the back (metaphorically, of course!) Rather like something out of a Shakespeare drama, such as 'Julius Caesar.' More like the television series (which I worked on, the BBC version, that is.) 'House of Cards.'

The last of the things have been moved out of the kitchen, and here I am, ready for the workmen to arrive to refurbish my kitchen. It's a bit of a squeeze in my lounge, with more than enough extra bits of furniture, but if it means I get a new, improved kitchen, then I don't mind.

8.25 a.m. Two workmen have come to start breaking up the units in the kitchen. I am going to have a temporary sink so at least I can wash up and make a cup of tea. Temporary that is, until the brand, spanking new sink unit is installed. (Intend to post each step of the journey from old to new kitchen on here. I am photographing it as well.)

Stir Crazy

(Tuesday)This confinement is not easy. Just being stuck in my flat with just Alfie for company is having a somewhat deleterious effect on me. Mentally and physically. We are being told by the government that we can have one exercise session per day (which is all very well, but one small Yorkshire Terrier needs a good deal more than one walk per day.) I am reading a good deal more than I have done in some time, not just my book '"The Age of Decadence" by Simon Heffer, but articles from BBC History Magazine as well as History Today. Watching television has become somewhat predictable. Daytime television has become one endless session about buying and selling houses, mostly people who insist on moving to the countryside because they have more money than sense, and why would you want a house which is far too big for a couple, and probably have extra bedrooms for friends and family to stay so they can be entertained in the surroundings of a large house. Antiques are fine, but it's just becoming boring, experts driving around the British countryside and buying antiques which they find and attempting to sell them for a profit.

The government has bought in stricter controls to attempt to slow down the spread of the coronavirus. Over the last weekend a lot of people have not heeded the social distancing. People crowding onto Underground trains in London as well as at beauty spots. If they are young people, in the 18-30 age group, the chances are they don't watch broadcast television and probably not read newspapers (at least in print-form at any rate.) and are not interested in politics and wouldn't watch the daily press conferences. In general, the British don't like being told what to do. Unlike communist countries where the population is spied on and their citizens controlled by The State. Bureaucracy gone crazy. Just look at the EU and then you have a good reason for the Brexit vote. Many European countries, such as Greece and France, were invaded by the Nazis during the Second World War, so you can see how they would just roll over and be subjugated by the EU. A load of 'you can't do-this-and-that.' Control gone made, so that explains why it has such a hold over people's lives. Rant over.

(Wednesday) The sun is shining. It's a lovely spring morning. No wind and no rain. But we have to remain in our homes. I've taken Alfie out for his second walk of the day. It's eerily quiet. Rather like a bank holiday. Very little traffic around. But the silence is strange, to say the least. People seem to be making an effort to be socially distant. At Dexter House we can't use the lounge or kitchen. It doesn't bother me because I don't utilise them much anyway.

(Thursday) The weather has changed. That's what makes the United Kingdom what it is; the fact that the weather is so changeable. It has turned quite cold and there was a light frost on the cars as I walked Alfie along Dexter Avenue before 6a.m. this morning. It is sunny and bright, but as I say, it has turned chilly.

If anything, this current situation has got we writing again. I have pages of notes as well as part-written bits and pieces of stories, which are part of a far longer piece. I have started off on an entirely different tack with my current piece of writing, sparked on my a BBC documentary presented by Lucy Worsley about Jane Austen. I've always loved Lucy's programmes and she has a wealth of knowledge. I won't divulge too much of what I'm creating, but I can't think of a better way to spark off an idea than from Austen.

Later. I spent some more time writing. As a consequence, Alfie didn't get an earlier afternoon walk, but I took him out at around 4.15. I noticed that some of Oldbrook Green has been mown. They had done the end nearest The Cricketers public house, but the opposite side had only been mown along the edge. Such is my life at the moment that I have to mention such mundane matters as mowing. Unfortunately, whoever does the mowing, they have to run their vehicles over the grass and leave horrible tyre marks. It would be nice if this doesn't happen.

There's been a crazy woman (I'm not sure if she lives at Dexter House or not, or whether she's a friend of one of the residents. I doubt it, because visitors aren't supposed to come here at present.) who has been outside in the garden, sitting on a deckchair and who has been wearing what looks like a thick coat with a fur collar. She must be a bit loopy, because it has been really warm today. I saw here when I was standing at the kitchen sink doing some washing-up. She must have seen me because she waved. Another woman was with her and I get the distinct impression they have been drinking, what is probably wine, as I saw them with glasses in their hands and one of them produced a bottle and poured whatever the contents were into one of the glasses. The things you see from your kitchen window when you are doing the washing up!

Friday morning. I was surprised by how cold it is out this morning, when I took Alfie out for his walk. It was well before 6 o'clock. Am I crazy, or what? No, definitely not. If it's light, we'll go out, regardless, even though he makes a great deal of noise as soon as he catches on I'm in the process of getting ready to go out.

Current Reading

I'm interested in history. I think there's something really fascinating in learning about what happened in the past, how things perhaps several hundred years ago have an impact on things today. I've read several books on 20th century history, first the Andrew Marr 2-book The Making of Modern Britain. The first goes from the death of Queen Victoria in 1901 up until the end of World War 2 and he second from 1945 up until the present day. I have Peter Ackroyd's first four books of his four-part series on the History of England.  The first is called 'Foundation, 'the second, 'Tudors', the third 'Civil War', and the fourth 'Revolution.' I'm not sure exactly when the final two books will be published or how far the series is likely to go. All these are worth reading. I've just finished reading 'Hope and Glory' by Peter Clarke, a history of the 20th century. I had wanted to read up as much as possible about the history of this period, so as to get a better understanding of why we're where we are now, with such things as Brexit, the E.U. and so on. I probably know more about the Tudor period, in particular anything to do with William Shakespeare, rather than this century.

My interest in history has always been there, but as we are members of both the National Trust and English Heritage you can't be ignorant of all the properties we visit which have connections to some aspect of history. One of our favourite places is Kenilworth Castle. It is a place just brimming over with history, particularly when connected to Queen Elizabeth 1. I read BBC History Magazine and recently started a subscription to History Today, which has had a revamp and is now in a far more compact format.

I've got a copy of  'The H.G. Wells Complete Short Stories.' I had watched a Sky Arts series called 'The Nightmare World of H.G. Wells,' which took a handful of his short stories and adapted them, rather in the style of 'Tales of The Unexpected' or 'The Outer Limits,' which are fantasy or science fiction-based shows. They did four of the stories as 2016 was the 150th anniversary of his birth. They adapted 'The Purple Pileus, 'The Moth', 'The Late Mr Elvisham,' and 'The Devotee of Art,' I've read the most famous story in the collection, which is a good deal longer than the average short story (I think it would be termed a novella) 'The Time Machine' and have read several of his novels, such as 'The Invisible Man' and 'War of The Worlds' but don't know the other stories so well. Today I read 'The Strange Orchid.' All these are exceptionally creepy and strange and not to be read when it's dark. I think 'The Strange Orchid' must have been the inspiration for 'Little Shop of Horrors.' 'The Time Machine', which I'm currently re-reading, is so good because it's convincing. The opening sequence, where 'The Time-Traveller' (who is never given his real name) is explaining his theories of time-travel, is done in such a way you can't not get drawn in, in a similar way to those of his friends who he's talking to. Then I have to ask, who is telling the story? As it's a first-person narrative, are we supposed to believe that it's actually H.G.Wells himself? It's no clear whether it is, but one is lead to suppose that it must be, probably because he wrote the story.

We have a bookcase which is bulging with books. Infact, we probably have more books than most people would usually have. A good deal of them need sorting and taking to a charity shop as they aren't likely to be read again.