Another Week (So, What's New?)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Myocardial Perfusion Imaging Test At John Radcliffe

I've mentioned that I had a Myocardial Perfusion Imaging Test procedure booked at the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford today. (Monday) I was taken by James, a good friend at Shenley Christian Fellowship. He wasn't due to pick me up until 12 midday as the procedure was at 2p.m. and it wasn't going to take 2 hours to get to Oxford. Generally, with light traffic it wouldn't normally take more than an hour. I wasn't over-keen on driving myself, due to the stress it was likely to cause and I certainly didn't need any more, what with Carol already being in hospital and also the state of other drivers attitude of other motorists, being tail-gated and generally not being in a fit state to drive that far at the moment. Also, I don't think Carol would have been happy if I had gone on my own. I was ready to leave well before 12 noon. He phoned me to say he'd be ten minutes late. When he got here he had to set his satnav and we left for Oxford.

The journey was relatively straightforward, but still I'm glad I didn't have to drive. We had to stop on the A34 because the satnav wasn't working or something, so James used his mobile phone as a satnav.

We got to the John Radcliffe but then we weren't entirely sure where the department was that I was going to, the Nuclear Cardiology department. The John Radcliffe is an enormous hospital, spread across a really large campus and it can be extremely difficult to find the particular department you need when you don't know the exact layout of the place. Then we had a problem with parking the car, a vast carpark but absolutely no vacant spaces. So I had to get out of the car, having got James's mobile number so we could keep in contact. I went into the main reception entrance and asked at a desk, and was given instructions as to the exact place I should go to, along a very long corridor (why do hospitals always have at least on long corridor? Is it something that the architects work into their masterplans or something, just to keep patients and visitors fit with all the walking?) Even then I didn't know the department was on Level 1, so I had to go down in a lift, which, when I got in one, insisted on going up first before delivering to the correct floor. But then I had to walk a considerable distance before finding the right department although I had to ask at two further desks before eventually ending up where I should have been. I can't say it was particularly well signed, just endless corridors and stairs to reach it.

All the while James texted me. He said he would attempt to park outside the hospital and then, later, said he was going to go to a library. One was going to be closing at 1 o'clock, so obviously no use, and then he said he was going to Bicester, which we had come through on the way over from Milton Keynes, and he said he'd head back to the hospital to pick me up at 5.30.

I reported to the reception in the department and then had to wait in the waiting area, but I didn't have to sit there long because a nurse soon came to get me and went through to one of the preparation rooms where I had to have a canala inserted in my right arm. As usual with me I had to lay down on the bed because I have a problem with needles, usually with giving blood, as you will have discovered if you read my blog posts regularly. The nurse had a real problem finding a vein, and at one point wanted to put the thing in my hand, which I refused. It's not the pain of the needle, it's mostly when whoever is attempting to put a needle in is fiddling around, looking for a vein, try one area, then another, then they tap your skin to raise a vein, it won't work here, then there, they might start to put a needle in, it takes too long, at which point I'm feeling queasy and sick. But eventually the canala was inserted and eventually the radio-active substance put into my bloodstream. My blood pressure was taken, which was low. I don't have a problem with that. I had to remain laying down for a minute or two. I began to feel better and eventually stood up and had to go and wait out in the waiting area for an hour before they could do the fist scan. I was shown what the machine was like,  through a window into the main room and how I would lie on the bed with my head out though the end of the machine as the camera revolved around me. I have to admit I don't like being enclosed in a small space and get mildly claustrophobic as a result.

So, I sat and waited for the hour. I had to drink water, for whatever reason. I could have eaten something, but I wasn't hungry but I currently don't have an appetite. I had eaten earlier, before I had left home, at around 10.45. Some people waiting with me had bought food with them but I just couldn't face a thing. They had a television on to watch, an ancient edition of 'Bargain Hunt' on the Really channel, not a channel I would normally watch, and then what seemed like endless episodes of 'Homes Under The Hammer.' I attempted to read, as I had a book with me, but I couldn't concentrate on it, so I gave up.

When the hour was up (and goodness, how it did drag. Really boring, unfortunately.) I was called in to the next room for the scan. I had my blood pressure taken. I had to lay on the bed within the scanning machine. They put something under my legs to raise them slightly. I think I had pads put on my chest, that connect you to an E.C.G. I had to slide right back and put my head out the other side of the machine and raise my arms and put my hands behind my head. To be honest, I didn't like it. I don't like enclosed spaces. The actual camera part of the machine encircled the whole bed with me on it and my chest had to be under the camera. Fortunately they had music playing, from Classic FM, so as the machine started I could concentrate on that and not on the humming, whirring machine as it kept circling me. Also, the whole procedure took around 10 minutes, not a moment more or a moment less. I had to lay completely still. My arms began to get cramp and I wanted to stretch my legs, but I had to keep perfectly still. Then one of the nurses said that the procedure was over. Thank goodness. The thing began to stop revolving and I was able to be moved down the bed so that I could sit up. I then sat on the edge of the bed and the pads were removed from my chest and I could leave the room, and had to drink water as I sat outside. I was told I should eat something, but I didn't feel hungry and really had no appetite, although someone sitting near me in the waiting room had food with him in a bag and kept eating fruit and other things.

So, another hour elapsed. Again, watching television and being generally bored. Once the hour was over I hd to go into another room. I had to take off my shirt while they connected me to more pads, which went to a computer which showed E.C.G. readings. I had to stand on a treadmill and walk, at first at a slow pace and then they gradually increased the speed. I had to hold on to a handrail, and walk steadily. The speed of the treadmill was increased and I managed to keep walking steadily, but I began to feel a tightness in my chest, but they made me keep on walking. One of the nurses put something into my arm through the canula in my right arm. No doubt more radioactive substance but I think it was more likely something to make my heart beat faster, probably adrenaline, but I'm not sure. I had a stress test done at Milton Keynes hospital in the cardiology department several years ago and they did something similar whilst doing a sonic scan of my heart and the adrenaline or whatever it was made my heart beat faster. I think this new test was similar to that. As I got more and more tightness in my chest they slowed down the treadmill until it stopped, but frankly it was stressing me somewhat and I was relieved when it was over. I know when I'm out walking when to slow down or stop to rest, whenever I feel some tightness in my chest, so it was with this test.

I got off the treadmill and they took the pads off my chest and I went back to the waiting area.

Another hour to wait. Or perhaps a bit more. I attempted to text James, but by now my mobile showed that I had little battery-life in it. I decided to turn the thing off, otherwise if the battery failed I wouldn't have enough power to text James to let him know I had finished and where to pick me up from.

It was well over an hour by the time I went into the room with the gamma camera in it (I've been looking at the literature I was sent prior to going for this procedure and that is what the machine is called.) I had my blood pressure done again. By now (it was around 5.15p.m.) I was heavily sick of the whole thing, feeling really tired (which is an effect of having had a heart attack, so nothing new there.) I had to lay on the bed thing in the machine and my legs were lifted it up with a sort of bolster thing. Not sure why, although perhaps it helps my blood circulate better for the camera. Then I had to put my head back as far as I could out the back of the machine and put my hands behind my head. Again the machine started. But this time the operator left the room. I didn't get far into the procedure, unfortunately. I had my eyes closed as I had the first time round, but then I opened them and saw how close the camera thing was to me and I'm afraid to say on here that I got a horrible panic attack. I just can't stand being enclosed, I've mentioned it on here earlier. I just freaked out and in the process I move my position. I continued with the procedure, but when it had finished the nurse said that because I'm moved it had ruined the results of the scan. I would need to do it again. I explained that I'd had an awful panic attack and the staff did understand. I didn't want to have gone all the way to Oxford for this procedure and then not have it completed successfully. They said to me that next time someone would be with me during the next run with the gamma camera, and it wouldn't be so long, perhaps seven minutes. So, I agreed to have a second attempt and this time it went well, with the nurse talking to me throughout. The earlier attempt wasn't pleasant and I just hope that I don't have to have another scan like it. Just don't like being in enclosed spaces like that.

So, that was the final scan, thank goodness. I packed up my things and had to open up my mobile, which even than had very little battery power. I managed to text James (by now it was about 5.35 p.m.) and attempted to walk to the hospital reception area, where I'd come in earlier. I walked along a really long corridor, expecting it to lead out of the building, but I came to a set of double doors which I couldn't open, it requiring a card to swipe to get it to open, which I didn't have. No doubt a member of the hospital staff would have such a card, but I obviously didn't. I walked back the way I'd come, a long walk, and I wasn't feeling 100%, so it was hard work. I used a lift and hoped I would get back to the level which lead out to the reception area. I eventually got there, James having said earlier in a text that he was now back on the hospital site. I decided to walk out of the building and thankfully I saw his car drawing up down at the road-level. So I got into his car and we began the journey home, arriving back at our house at around 7.15. I was so grateful to James for his kindness to drive me to Oxford and for the successful conclusion of what was a very long and tiring day.

Another Visit To A&E

(Wednesday) Carol has been in a great deal of pain for the past couple of days. It's really difficult for me to see her in so much agony and not be able to help get at least some respite from it. She has taken a lot of pain relief medication, but it doesn't seem to work. Some can work for a couple of hours, but then the discomfort comes back. If we wanted to get a doctor's appointment for her it would be a real effort to first get through to Ashfield Medical Centre, probably a 30-minute wait to actually get through and then, having explained to the receptionist why she needed an appointment in the first place, she would be offered a doctor's telephone call some time later, possibly 3-4 hours later, who would access what the problem was and possibly ask her to come into the surgery for an appointment, maybe at the end of the afternoon, say 5 or 6 o'clock. By which time the pain would have become so intense it wouldn't make much difference. So the alternative was to go to Accident and Emergency at Milton Keynes Hospital. Which is what we did.

Carol drove and we managed to find a parking space in the ground-level carpark which is, fortunately, directly opposite the entrance to A and E, and a relatively short walk. Once in I reported to the receptionist while Carol sit down because she was in so much pain. We then sat down in the waiting area and watched some daytime television, something about people who re-let their council homes, illegally. I think Dom Littlewood was presenter. It's called 'Council House Crackdown,' which was followed by 'Homes Under The Hammer.' By which time Carol was called into the triage nurse's room and she described what her problem was. Then we just had to sit back in the waiting room area. There was a sign up near the reception desk which said that waiting-time was between 3 and 4 hours, which didn't exactly make things any better. Also, the chairs in these places aren't the most comfortable. Is this deliberate, I wonder, to deter time-wasters? Probably not. By the time the next programme came on after 'Homes After The Hammer,' (which gives you some idea how long we had to wait.) we were called into another room by a doctor, who took a great many detailed notes and managed to access Carol's notes on the hospital computer system, one of the great advantages of this technology. From there we went into the depths of the A and E department where Carol had cubicle 9 to herself, and was able to lay on the trolley in there. Things began to move a good deal faster and a nurse came and put a canala in her wrist and because they had by now pinpointed the possible centre of the pain as being a urinary infection two nurses came and put in a catheter which can't have been particularly pleasant. Another doctor's interview and then Carol was eventually moved into a new area of the A and E department, called the Observation Unit, which had five beds in it and when we arrived Carol was the only patient but it gradually filled up with other patients. The idea of this unit being that the staff would observe a patient before deciding what action to take regarding their care plan.

The lady doctor who has been helping Carol manage her pain came to see her in the Observation Unit. She seems very keen to help Carol find something which will control the pain she is experiencing and spent a lot of time discussing the matter.  It was decided that Carol would move to another ward sometime that evening, probably Ward 8, but as there presumably wasn't a bed available there would be no chance of her being transferred that evening. I was about to leave for home and would have to telephone in the morning to discover where she was going to finally end up.

(Thursday) I had to ring the hospital to try and discover which ward Carol had eventually gone to
over-night. I rang the reception and attempted to get through to the Observation Unit, but they weren't answering. I gave it 20 minutes and rang again and this time I got an answer. The nurse I spoke to took some while to discover where Carol had been taken, Ward 2. So I drove into the hospital campus and parked in the multi-storey carpark and walked into the main entrance and managed to find the ward without too much trouble.

What's so awful about daytime television?

Generally, daytime television seems to get a bad press, that it's cheap, lazy, time-filling programming, watched only by the elderly, house-bound, students, the unemployed and those who have nothing better to do with their time during the day. Which may be true, up to a point. The BBC doesn't do a copy of what ITV does with their programming, and manages to put out a fairly wide range of programmes from when Breakfast ends at 9.15 a.m. to around when the evening news is broadcast at 6p.m. If anything there seems to be an over-abundance of shows related to antiques and selling houses and make-overs. 'Homes Under The Hammer' is at least worth watching if only to see how prospective developers manage to make a good (or bad) job of restoring and decorating houses that at first glance are little more than disaster areas. It does at least encourage people to do up properties which were wrecks and so add to the housing stock instead of green space being built on. It's always interesting to see the results of developer's hard work and effort and it's not all about making vast profits from selling the properties in question. On the other hand, another house-selling show comes on mid-afternoon on BBC1, 'Escape To The Country,' where couples with more money than sense, having decided they want to give up city living and sell their homes and move away to some idyllic spot in the countryside. The presenters show them three properties which fit certain criteria, such as it has to has space for granny or grandpa, room for a herd of alpacas to graze, or perhaps have stabling for several horses or ponies as well have an ample-sized kitchen and perhaps views over rolling hills, meadows or the sea. I often wonder if they're just keen to show off their homes to their friends and family, and buy somewhere they can retire to which has far too much space and umpteen bedrooms which their guests can use when they visit perhaps once a year. Do they never think, when they're viewing these fantastic country properties, how far the nearest supermarket is, or the doctor's surgery or indeed, the nearest urban settlement, how much farm traffic they're likely to encounter on their way to work (wherever that may be) when they're very likely to be stuck behind a slow-moving combine harvester, tractor and trailer or herds of sheep being moved from one field to another, or even what it's like mid-winter then there's six foot of snow and the roads around their beloved property are closed off due to drifting show or there's ungritted road surfaces to deal with.

The BBC has a couple of shows which use recycling as the basis for their format, such as 'Money For Nothing' where the presenter, who is usually a designer/maker, visits a tidy-tip or recycling centre in a town and search out pieces of furniture and other material which people are bringing in to be scrapped and manages to remove these items before they are skipped. Then it is taken away to be restored and redesigned into new and improved pieces of furniture or whatever. What makes it remarkable is that these items, once they're tarted up, are sold on at profit and the money made is given to the people who dumped the items at the tidy-tip in the first place. A good example to us all that what we throw away and might find useless can become amazing once restored and given a new life, so saving them from land-fill.

There are some daytime television programmes which are useful, not merely in the schedules to fill up space. One such might be 'Fake Britain' which is sometimes shown in peak viewing time. It deals with consumer matters, mostly about items which are fake (hence the title, obviously) and some are items which you wouldn't otherwise think of as being faked, such as passports, electrical equipment such as hair straighteners, mobile chargers as well as websites which offer tickets for concerts and shows at knockdown prices but which turn out to be worthless. Also, all manner of scams which would go unnoticed until shows such as these alert the public to them.

Antiques seem to be something of an obsession on daytime television. 'Bargain Hunt' has been around for what seems like ages, first presented by David Dickinson and then Tim Wannacott, and more recently, since he left, it has been presented by a wide range of antiques experts which keeps it fresh and lively. Two teams of couples are given £300 to spend in an hour on antiques at various venues across the country and then attempt to make a profit at auction. Each team has an expert who helps them select their items and then, once they've bought their three items the expert spends what's remaining of the £300 on a bonus items which the teams can either accept or reject at auction. You can actually learn quite a lot from these sorts of shows as the experts discuss the various antique items the teams select. I had never heard of many of makers such as Lalique, Moorcroft or Clarice Cliff before I began watching this show. Later in the day there's 'Flog It' and later still, 'Antiques Road Trip' which is a programme where to antiques experts cross the country and stop at various towns with antique shops in them to buy items which are then sold at auction. The profit made is then given to charity.

There are now far too many gameshows on both channels. ITV has three which run one after the other, 'Tenable,' 'Tipping Point,' and 'The Chase.' It just seems cheap and simple for them to churn out this stuff, nothing wrong with either, although some of the questions on 'Tipping Point' and embarrassingly easy and an insult to anyone's intelligence, for example, 'what colour is the sky?' or' which month does Christmas fall?' Why do so many of the gameshows have such garish sets? The set for 'Tenable,' for example, is a really bright green. All have similar digital graphics and almost all have equally annoying sound effects, particularly when contestants win or something else happens during the course of game-play. Repetitive sounds which really get on your nerves, to say the least. 

Crazy Television

Why do we have to have so many trailers on television? I don't mean for films, but for television shows. They seem to show the same clips for a drama, for example, and it surely ruins the actual show because if there's several clips which are extracted from that show, they're just going to spoil the surprise element and just destroy that programme. If it's a comedy show, then, to have some of the comic moments shown endlessly during a trailer is going to kill any sense of humour that may have been in that particular show. Having said that, they're running trailers for my least-favourite programme, 'EastEnders,' where all the most dramatic 'bits' are squeezed into about 30 seconds and actually improves this programme. Whenever the famous introductory music starts, we always reach for the remote and switch channels or turn the television 'off.'

To the question 'why so many trailers on television?' I'd say, so we know a new show is coming up in the near future and the producers want us to watch. Which I suppose is obvious.

I've mentioned how they have to squeeze the credits at the end of a programme into a horrible narrow strip and insist on telling you what's coming up. Why does the announcer have to speak over the credits and why on earth do the credits have to be rushed through so fast that you can't possibly read them clearly? Just an insult on the actors as well as the production staff.

Something else I hate about television is when directors and cameramen insist on using crazy angles to shoot film or video. WHY I have to ask? It can be very unsettling. Also, using what they call 'whip-pans' (I think I have the correct term for this) when they spin the camera around quickly, perhaps cutting from one place to another. It makes you feel sick. Then there's this thing they have of filming people as they walk along, which can make you feel sort of sea-sick, or at least motion-sick. I feel sorry for the cameraman having to walk along backwards to follow the actor or presenter. It must be difficult, probably having to avoid colliding with furniture or, worse still if it's outside, falling into a ditch or running into whatever is in the way.

Daytime television: why are there endless programmes about couples selling houses? Some are fine, such as 'Homes Under The Hammer,' because it's about people who buy empty, probably derelict houses, at auction, and you then see how they manage to transform them and then sell them on at quite large profit or rent them out. At least they're giving people homes and preventing houses being built on greenfield sites and increasing the housing stock. But it the programmes about couples who have so much money, from selling one over-priced properties, usually in the South East and London, and have this fantasy about moving to an idealised rural property with a 'large kitchen,' and 'space for a pony' or most likely it someone who's retiring and has got money from a bonus working in the city or it's from being a director of a company or business they've had something to do with and got share options. . . the show I'm thinking about is called 'Escape To The Country' and it's on virtually every day, in the afternoon.

More Niggles: Television- Part 2

What's next on my list of niggles regarding television? How about the over-abundance of similar shows, such as antiques and cookery? One or two would be fine, but why do schedulers think that the viewer is going to relish the possibility of a rash of the same sort of show? Crazy. All the fuss about Great British Bake Off transferring to Channel 4 was totally over-the-top. I can't honestly see how it can be worth £75 million or thereabout, even if it's for five years. There are a couple of antique shows we watch and enjoy, such as Bargain Hunt and Flog It! Well, they just happen to be on at the right time, when we have lunch or tea and at least you learn something about antiques. Then there's 'lifestyle' shows, doing up houses, 'Escape To The Country' as well as 'Homes Under The Hammer.' Why do the people who go on something like 'Escape To The Country' want to move to the middle of nowhere, North Yorkshire or somewhere in Cornwall, miles from anywhere, a long drive to the nearest supermarket or a hospital or doctor? They generally have more money than sense and they want a huge house with more bedrooms than they really need. If you're going to move once you retire, why not just down-size and spend the money you have left over because you've gone for a smaller, more economical house? It's just so you can invite your friends and family and impress them with your new, huge home.

Day-time television is awash with selling things. Virtually every programme has some aspect of selling, such as houses to antiques. It's the same thing as I've already mentioned. Once a show is found to be a success with an audience they seem to think that we'll want more and more of the same.

Why do these shows have the same music on their soundtracks? I can't understand why, when they make some programmes, usually documentaries, they have to use the SAME music which gets recycled endlessly. Perhaps the budgets for these shows don't allow for original scores and they use royalty-free library music. It's the most likely reason, but the same rather clichéd music seems to do the rounds of such shows as 'Antiques Road Trip.'

Not just antiques and cooking, but during the afternoon there seem to be endless gameshows. There's nothing wrong with a really good gameshow. 'The Chase' is currently a huge hit on I.T.V. at teatime. It's main selling-point would be that Bradley Walsh is the questionmaster. He has a good repport with the contestants and can, occasionally, corpse when a rather risqué answer comes up on the three answers the contestants have to select. Then there's The Chasers, who are usually good value for money. Then the questions are quite difficult. I hate those gameshows which have questions that are, frankly, an insult to one's intelligence. The worst offender in that department is 'Tipping Point.' We've watched this addictive show, but some of the questions are, to be honest, an insult. Such questions as 'What month is Christmas?', 'What colour is the sky?' Doh! Who really thought that a gameshow that is really a version of those machines that you'd find at the fair or on a seaside pier, where you put a few pennies in a slot and the machine has different shelves or 'layers' that move backwards and forward and you have to get the coins to fall over the edge to win? Crazy.

Day-time television is awash with selling things. Virtually every programme has some aspect of selling, such as houses to antiques. It's the same thing as I've already mentioned. Once a show is found to be a success with an audience they seem to think that we'll want more and more of the same.

Why do these shows have the same music on their soundtracks? I can't understand why, when they make some programmes, usually documentaries, they have to use the SAME music which gets recycled endlessly. Perhaps the budgets for these shows don't allow for original scores and they use royalty-free library music. It's the most likely reason, but the same rather clichéd music seems to do the rounds of such shows as 'Antiques Road Trip.'

Something that really gets on my nerve and that's the need for producers of television shows to have 'what's coming next' at the beginning of a show. 'Bargain Hunt' does this. I quite like this show, but why do I need to get a glimpse of what's going to happen? I'm quite capable of staying with a programme to find out. I don't need this stupid element. It's taking up valuable running-time. Then, most drama series have to have 'Next time . . .' and you get a glimpse of the next episode. Totally unnecessary. Something pinched from American television which is best off being ditched. I know that a lot of our shows are either sold to American television or are co-productions, but it's as if you're not going to stick with a long-running series (or 'season' as we have to call a long-running drama series, also pinched from America.) And a great deal of fuss is made out of the final episode of a run of shows, or 'series' or 'season.' Now called 'Finale.' Which sort of separates it from the rest of the run of shows.