Life, The Universe And One Or Two Other Things

Monday 7.05 a.m. I awoke early, as I usually do. I didn't see the point of taking Alfie out until it was lighter, which only begins to get light enough to venture out until around 6.30. Then I could hear the rain, rattling on the windows and thought to myself that Alfie wasn't going to like it, but there was no alternative, so we went out and it was raining slightly, not too heavy, but I think it was likely to become more serious as the day progresses.

Wednesday. 6.50 a.m. On Monday, I emailed Camphill about whether they were still insisting on staff and volunteers wearing face coverings. I'm really keen to get back to working there, because sitting in my flat on my own isn't very conducive to mental health, apart from anything else, and two years of being put under house arrest (or let's say, what has felt like house arrest, but what the government called 'lockdown', due to the pandemic.) haven't helped matters, being cut off from meeting people, for example, so going back there for one day a week had given me a focus and I really enjoyed being there. I soon had a reply and the response was good! No more face coverings, and you only have to do a test if you show symptoms of covid. As I've had all my doses of the vaccine and last week I had my booster jab. So, I'm planning to go back and work with the guys in the theatre workshop. Yesterday I was sent an email in order to sign up to do an online course concerning the various aspects of care, such as manual handling, infection control, fire safety and a whole host of other areas. I managed it, although I had to do it in stages as it took around two hours in total. I also did an application for my disclosure certificate, which you need to have if you are working with vulnerable groups such as learning disabilities, which the client group is at Camphill. I have to go to Camphill tomorrow (Thursday) with a bundle of documentation in order to get signed up officially, although I did this initially when I started there back in around March-April 2019. So, let's just say I'm a bit excited about going there next Tuesday and can't wait to see the guy's faces when I walk in the door!

3.25 p.m. I've mentioned that I have recently signed up to the streaming service, Britbox. I am more than pleased with their offerings, a lot of ITV, BBC, Channel 4 and Channel 5 stuff to view. I have already enjoyed 'The Avengers', the brilliant 1960s show with Patrick McNee and Diana Rigg. Really over-the-top entertainment and some of the stories are unbelievable, but they are done with such style that you can forgive some of the craziness, which actually makes the show so watchable. Yesterday evening I began watching the Granada TV version of Sherlock Holmes, with Jeremy Brett as Holmes, in the first story adapted, 'A Scandal In Bohemia.' I can't see any television station in today's broadcasting landscape making such a well-produced series as this, the period details, sets, costumes and so on are amazing. There are one or two little points which are totally unbelievable, such as the ropey disguise that Holmes puts on i and which is so appallingly bad it would never fool anyone. The wig and sideboards he dons look as if they would fall off or at least be pulled off at the least provocation. Really unconvincing.

Life's Ups and Downs

We're slowly drifting towards autumn. The days are drawing in. It's getting light in the morning later and later. By the time we reach September, we'll be seeing the first signs of Christmas in the shops. 

Tuesday. 6.25 a.m. Really, honestly, not a great deal to report. Except for the 'Mystery of the Blocked Drains.' It sounds like something that Sherlock Holmes or some other private detective would be bought in to solve. In all the time I've been living at Dexter House I've had an awful pong in my bathroom, presumably coming from the sink or bath plug hole. It's a smell similar to over-boiled cabbage (yes, I know, not nice.) Having done a lot of schools touring with puppets over the years, arriving in school halls to set up shows, usually places which are also used for school dinners. You used to get the lingering smell of boiled cabbage, apart from anything else. The pong from the drains is similar and there's no explanation. It would appear that other tenants here have complained of not only the smell but the fact that water doesn't drain away properly after you've had a bath or used the sink. The contractors who maintain this building are supposed to be dealing with it, apparently going to put a camera down the drains to try and find the blockage. Well, all I can say is, good luck to them! Not a job I would have anything to do with.

I've managed to use the steam mop to clean the remainder of the lounge floor. It's a bit of a game of Tetris having to move the furniture around. You move one thing and then another and do such-and-such to get to behind the television. I was shocked by the amount of dust and fluff! It makes me wonder where on earth it comes from. But it's now done, and I'm pleased with the results. 

Wednesday. 7.20 a.m. I woke up around 6.15, which is the latest I've woken in ages. But Alfie was still sleeping and didn't seem to realize we hadn't been out. I have the feeling it had rained in the night as there were signs of a good wetting on the path and grass.

The kitchen is clean and tidy from last night's meal! I want it clear as I'm going to Sainsbury's later this morning and it's easier when I get back and unload my shopping. All wiped down and clear.

Thursday. 6.35 a.m. The week seems to fly by. Not a great deal to report at the moment.

Friday. 6.45 a.m. I woke up later than normal. But what is 'normal'? The last eighteen months or so have been anything but normal. Being stuck in some sort of limbo isn't anything normal.

The work on the infamous scooter sheds has ground to a halt. There is a concrete 'pad' outside in the corner outside where my stairs come down from my flat. The sheds aren't going to be built of brick as I was expecting, but will be wooden structures. (This is sounding a bit like 'The Three Little Pigs' story. First house, straw, second house- Sticks, third house- Bricks. The whole thing is a bit of a fairy story.) Not sure where things stand regarding the 'big stink' from the drains.

Saturday. 5.50 a.m. My MacBook decided it wouldn't open up yesterday morning. Try as I might, I couldn't get the thing to respond. I imagined there was something seriously wrong with it. There was a full charge on it's battery, but the screen remained blank. My thinking was, that's it, it's finished, it's dead. Well, it's served me well, it's almost seven years old, it will probably need replacing. Fortunately I did manage to get the MacBook to function, which was something of a relief. I know it is going to have to be replaced eventually, because technology such as laptops do have a limited life. 

Whodunnit . . . and Why?

The 'Who-done-it,' (or should it be spelt whodunnit?) is a format of many a television series, stage play film or radio drama. They seem to be a regular fixture in television schedules. What is it about them that makes them so popular, not only with schedulers and producers, but the general viewing public? Generally speaking, they have a familiar element to them, rather like a soap opera (EastEnders, Coronation Street, Emmerdale come to mind, but also the BBC Radio 4 Soap, The Archers, which, amazingly, celebrates it's 70th anniversary in 2020, making it the world's longest-running drama series.) Usually set it a familiar environment, a village, a closed society or environment, such as a railway train, stuck in a snowstorm or on a cruise liner, or most likely, a country house, usually isolated from the rest of the world, or an island. Then we have a relatively small group, many or even all are suspects in a murder and then the crime is solved by an outsider (usually) who has a knack of resolving the crime and will search for clues and interview all the suspects and eventually, at the climax of the show, reveal who the murderer is.

It amazes me that some of the locations in which these shows are set that nobody thinks it's strange, the number of murders which are committed. Just think of 'Midsummer Murders', which has been running for goodness knows how long, that there is a murder in that area of the country every week. Surely there's more than the average number of homicides than the rest of the United Kingdom? Why doesn't someone look it to such things? And would you choose to live in such a village if you knew that the murder statistics were above average? Would you avoid such a place? The same with the village in which the BBC1 daytime drama, 'Father Brown' is set, the almost cliched Cotswold village of Kembleford or the village in which Agatha Raisin lives in? Likewise, St Mary Mead, where Miss Marple resides? And what always gets me with these shows, how the detective just happens to be around not long after the murder occurs or at least, as soon as the body is discovered. How come whenever Poirot or Miss Marple goes on holiday, or visits a certain place, no soon have they turned up THAN THE MURDER TAKES PLACE and they are called upon to investigate. And often the amateur sleuths get in the way of the police, and usually manage to solve the crime before the professionals, who invariably get the culprit wrong! Their investigations are generally a total disaster and the amateur sleuth makes them look totally inept.

Most 'whodunnits' follow the same format, with usually the scene being set, in most cases in an enclosed environment, such as a country house, village, or as in the case of two of Agatha Christie's novels, a railway train (Murder on The Orient Express) or a cruise line on the River Nile (Death On The Nile), with the detective just coincidentally being around somewhere when the murder is discovered, then the bulk of the novel revolves around the suspects being interviewed and the clues gathered. Usually we have a small cast of characters, who we discover have good reasons to possibly be the murderer and at the end the detective reveals who the murderer is.

Some 'Whodunnits,' aren't about murder. Better to actually call them mysteries, because that is really the basic plot, because there is the secret at the heart of the plot, or mystery, of who did the crime. They can be about theft, such as some of the Sherlock Holmes stories, written by Arthur Conan Doyle, such as The Scandal In Bohemia.

In effect a 'Whodunnit' is a bit like a knot. There's something which has to be unravelled, a mystery (usually, but not always, a murder.) and it can only be unravelled when an investigator/detective, either professional or amateur, can piece together all the evidence and then decide who was responsible. This person, either male or female, tends to stand apart from the group of characters who are suspects, has a very keen mind and is able to see all sides and the come up with an answer so that the murderer can be bought to justice. Quite often the amateur sleuth gets to the result quicker than the professionals, who are often seen as bungling and incompetent and probably come up with entirely the wrong solution and suspect the wrong person as the murderer.

The detective, whether they are professional or amateur, is often portrayed as having flaws or at least appears separate from the world of the suspects in a 'whodunnit.' One can mention, as an example, Sherlock Holmes, more like a computing system, who is high-performing, in that he is a single man, who can identify clues which other people cannot. It is almost as if he is O.C.D.  (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) or he's at least on the autism spectrum, most likely he has Asperger's. He finds it difficult to make friends (apart from his companion, John Watson.) but he uses his compulsive behaviour to assist in his investigations. Also, he has a drug habit, which, no doubt, also aids (or even hinders) his investigations.

Other detectives, such as Morse, in the Colin Dexter novels (which were made into a highly successful television series which starred John Thaw.) is a divorcee, is grumpy and has a love of classical music and drives around in a Jaguar, have 'fatal flaws,' (or hamarthia,) which helps develop them as characters and explains their nature.

Sixth Chemotherapy Cycle

It's a bright and sunny morning, but the weather is forecast to become really cold with snow in some areas of the country. So, there's really no excuse for the trains to be delayed, the motorways to become blocked and the country to, generally, grind to a halt. I think it's going to be considerably colder than it has been of late. The car is ice-free when I looked out of the kitchen window earlier.

We had to drive to Ashfield Medical Centre to collect the revised medical certificate for Carol. It was busy as I queued at the reception desk. It took a relatively long time before I actually reached the desk and got what I'd come for. Then, at the point when we were about to leave the carpark outside there was a blockage because someone insisted on not moving out of the way to make my exit straightforward.

Then we drive straight to the hospital and the oncology suite. The carpark immediately behind the unit is full, so I have no choice but to drop off Carol and the drive back towards the front of the hospital and park in the ground level carpark there. I'm fortunate in finding a space immediacy inside the carpark and then walk back around the hospital campus to join Carol in the oncology suite. We've become well organised with each visit, bringing a bag from Waitrose (one of those 'for life' bags.) which contains the MacBook Air which this is being written on, as well as a couple of books and snacks. Carol is ensconced in a corner, and by 11.15 she has had her blood pressure taken. A perfect reading. It is relatively peaceful and there aren't that many other patients in the unit this morning. Carol says she's hungry. We eat a couple of Club biscuits. Those rather nice treats which have a thick layer of chocolate on them. These have a slight minty flavour. I make Carol some frothy coffee. We bought her Waitrose reusable coffee mug with us along with a sachet of Nescafé latte which I take to the kitchen in the suite and make it up using hot water from the drinks trolley. You can make your own tea and coffee as required, although we often go to the hospital restaurant to have Costa coffee or at the Costa shop near the hospital entrance., although it's a long walk to visit that.

I've finished the book 'Watling Street' by John Higgs. A bit of a disappointment. Something of a curate's egg. Good in parts. Then I read one of the Sherlock Holmes short stories from the annotated set. This one was 'The Naval Treaty,' and then 'The Final Problem' which is the one where Conan-Doyal 'kills off' Holmes at the Reichenbach Falls. It's written in such a way which leaves it unclear as to what actually happened. Did Holmes die, having been in a struggle to the death with Professor Moriarty? It's definitely inconclusive. Actually a bit of a disappointment. Conan-Doyle obviously wanted to be done with Holmes. He had other irons in the fire with other writing. But it's left open at the end, no doubt with the intention to possibly bring back Holmes in more stories, which he does after around eight years.

Carol is now on the first drip, which is glucose, which takes an hour, and then the actual chemotherapy which lasts two hours.

I've started reading Alan Bennett's latest book, 'Keeping On, Keeping On.' Having read his earlier books, it seemed a must to read the latest work. I've been a fan or his work for years, first coming across his plays on BBC television in the 1970s.

I went to the Friends' Shop to buy us both rolls for our lunch. These rolls are wrapped in such a way that they are virtually impossible to get into. The iced buns in such a way that the icing comes of on the inside of the very noisy cellophane wrapping. But they're a necessity as we get quite hungry as we sit in the oncology department for around three hours or so.

It's generally quiet in the oncology suite today, apart from the pumps which deliver the chemotherapy and the occasional 'bleeping'of their alarms which is to alert the nurses to the fact that one or other of these machines needs attention, a blockage or something wrong. Little green lights that appear to move along to show the machines are working, but then the bleeping noise and red lights to indicate that these things are working as they should.

I'm writing this as I sit with Carol in the oncology department. One of the advantages of having free wi-fi within the hospital campus. It means that what I write is more what I'd term 'free-form' as I'm writing 'live,' rather from memory, which this blog post would be if I wrote it later and from memory.

Carol eventually set up with the chemotherapy, so it's a good two hours as it goes through. Then, at the end, they do a flush to clear the line she has in her arm and then she's set up with a pump which she has for a couple of days and then comes back on Wednesday to have to removed.

When we had got home there was a card stuck in the door. We'd had two parcels delivered. I knew one had been delivered because I'd had an email which I had read when we were in the oncology suite and I had the laptop connected to the wifi. I had ordered a brand new Kindle from Amazon and it was due to be delivered today. It had apparently been received 'by the resident' as the email said. I couldn't have been, as I wasn't at home. It had been put in the bin cupboard. Rather precarious, even though the door was well and truly shut. There was  second card, which was on the floor inside the house near the letter box. Carol has a subscription to an art part-work and several of the books, on various artists, had arrived and had been left in the bin cupboard along with the Amazon parcel. Both parcels were opened and the contents either read, or, in the case of the new Kindle, set up and charged.

Fourth Chemotherapy Cycle

We had a visit from Carol's cousin Andrew yesterday morning. We were interested to hear about his ministry working with children in Romania. Carol is going to be able to help with some teaching material which will be great to give her a focus away from chemotherapy and it's side effects. She has been making some cakes, a really tasty Victoria sponge as well as some cup-cakes. We may buy an electric  hand mixer which should make things quicker and easier. The only problem is, once the cakes are made, resisting the temptation to actually eat them is quite difficult as they are very tasty and somewhat moorish!

This blog post is being written as I'm sitting with Carol in the Oncology Unit at Milton Keynes hospital. I'm making the most of having free wi-fi within the hospital. Writing as things are actually happening allows the post to be a good deal more fresh in my mind that it would have been if I'd written it completely from memory as it might have been if i'd written it later when I'd got home.

We had to be at the oncology suite at 11 a.m. Alfie insisted on running upstair when we were about to leave the house. It would have been better for him to be left in the kitchen but as soon as we said 'kitchen, Alfie!' he ran upstairs to our bedroom and wouldn't be budged. I closed the door, but as soon as I got downstairs he began barking and it was obvious he didn't like being shut in. And who, in all honesty, could blame him?

We gave ourselves plenty of time as it's not always easy to get a parking space later in the day. Which was true when we arrived at the carpark behind the oncology department. I drove in but absolutely no spaces so I immediately drove out and left Carol to take our bags of things in and report to the reception in the Oncology department. So I had to drive round the ring road and find a space at the front of the hospital in the ground-level carpark. I then had to walk round the hospital site to get to the oncology department. You would think that there would be a dedicated carpark for those using the oncology department or at least who use the facilities on a more regular basis. But that would be far too easy.

 It's been a a particularly windy day, which we noticed when we left the house earlier. All manner of bits of paper and rubbish being blown around.

Trying to keep oneself occupied while Carol has her chemotherapy is the main thing about spending several hours in the oncology department. Carol was soon connected to the various drips and was plugged in when I got back from parking the car. Carol has her crochet. She's even made a lovely cover for this MacBook, and is making some sort of bag which can be sold in the Macmillan unit to raise funds. I'm writing this, obviously, as well as reading 'Goodbye Christopher Robin,' by Anne Thwaite, about how A.A. Milne came to write the 'Winnie The Pooh' books in the 1920s. He had been a relatively successful playwright and contributor to such magazines as 'Punch,' but nowadays the plays are almost forgotten, and 'Pooh' is what he's best remembered for today. Rather like J.M. Barrie who's playwriting efforts were over-shadowed by Peter Pan. Even Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle was stuck with Sherlock Holmes, who he killed off at the Reichenbach Falls but had to bring him back eventually because of public pressure.

Recent Reading . . . and Some Writing . . . Part 2

I mentioned in the last post how I was influenced by radio drama for my selection of reading material. I suppose the same could be said of what I watched on television. The first big drama adaptation I remember was 'The Forsyte Saga" which would have been one of the really big serial adaptations done by the BBC in the early 1960's and I think opened on the new channel BBC 2. We didn't have BBC 2 at the start of it's broadcast in 1964 as you had to buy a special set as it was in 625-lines as all other channels were 405-line and you had to have a duel set that could receive the new channel as well as having a special ariel which we didn't have, so I would have had to wait a few years later for this series to be shown on BBC 1, perhaps around 1967-8. I read all the novels, written by John Galsworthy. I think there must have been around 9 or 10 books and the television adaptation ran for some 26 episodes. I cannot imagine a television adaptation running to that many episodes today. Something like 'Downton Abbey' runs for no more than 8 episodes a series, although the next series, the last, will be the 6th. 

The B.B.C., in all it's infinite wisdom, always showed some sort of adaptation of a 'worthy' classical novel at teatime on a Sunday during the 1960's, and over the years many Dickens adaptations were shown. I don't know why they imagined that Charles Dickens would be suitable for children, but I suppose it was aimed at what you'd call a 'family' audience. Today if they do an adaptation of a classic novel, Dickens, Austen, Eliot or whoever, they schedule it much later and as a result the productions are a good deal more hard-hitting. These productions were also done in much longer runs, say 12-13 episodes, which actually suits a Dickens as the novels were originally published in serial form. Today you'd be lucky if a production is 4 episodes or even less. I remember as a child they did 'Great Expectations' (and there have been numerous versions done over the years since.) and being terrified by the opening sequence where Magwitch, the escaped convict, meets the young and innocent Pip in the churchyard. I think I would have been as terrified in much the same way as Pip. I got to read the novel and from that began to read further Dickens novels. In the early days of Channel 4, around 1982, the year it opened, they showed a television version of the R.S.C. stage adaptation of "Nicholas Nickleby". It was done on stage in two parts and the running time was something like 8-9 hours. A truly memorable version. I read the book before it was shown on television. I am again reading "Nicholas Nickleby" and enjoying it very much. It is so full of some wonderful characters and, although you might say that Dickens does somewhat 'over-egg the pudding' with some of his writing, and it's not particularly fashionable, but it cracks along at a fair old pace and you can't call it boring in any way. It's hard to believe that Dickens was in his 20's when he  wrote it and also that it was published in episodic form, which makes me wonder how much he had planned the storyline in advance and how, once the episodes were published, did he wish he could go back and alter bits of the story? Also, he was writing the next novel, which I believe was "The Old Curiosity Shop," which would have overlapped "Nicholas Nickleby." It must have been very complicated to have two novels being written and published concurrently. No doubt he had started writing "Nicholas Nickleby" as the previous novel, "Oliver Twist" was being written and published. The thought doesn't bear thinking about. He must have been very organised.

I worked on an episode of "Sherlock Holmes", one of the Granada series which was made during the 1980s, when I did a lot of 'walk-on' work. It was "The Man With The Twisted Lip" and shot in King's Lynn. As a result of that I decided to read some of the stories and had a complete volume of the stories (since lost) but I now have an annotated set of volumes which has been edited by Leslie S. Klinger. I have been working my way through the stories gradually (not completed as yet.) The Granada series is being repeated on one of the digital television stations we can get through Sky (I think it is ITV Encore, which shows a lot of back-catalogue shows, including "Downton Abbey.") So I am able to see the stories in really good adaptations, although I must say some of the acting is somewhat 'over-the-top.' I'm not over-keen on the modern version of the Conan Doyle stories, "Sherlock" which stars Benedict Cumberbatch. I'm  afraid I prefer the original stories and don't like them being fiddled about with. I did see the first series and quite enjoyed them but the last series, for me, was a disappointment. I won't be watching the next series which is due out around Christmas.

Sherlock Holmes

I have to admit to being something of a Sherlock Holmes fan. I got interested after I did some Walk-On work on one of the Granada Television episodes which was filmed in King's Lynn sometime in the late 1980's. The episodes which had Jeremy Brett in, and which, in my opinion, are some of the best renditions of Conan-Doyle's stories. The episode in question was "The Man With The Twisted Lip" and I was one of the street 'roughs' (for want of a better word.) It was supposed to be set in some back-street near the Thames in London, so the River Ouse (which comes out into the sea near King's Lynn, and runs through Bedford and Newport Pagnall.) was making an excellent job of standing in for the Thames! We were made up in really  awful costumes to be this street gang hanging about in the street near an opium den and Holmes is doing his investigations in disguise within the opium den and we are outside in the street. We had to queue up for lunch in this quite smart hotel restaurant in our awful tatty costumes and it must have looked quite odd if you hadn't realised we were filming for a television drama. 

From doing that bit of television 'Walk-On' I began to read some of the Sherlock Holmes stories, after watching the television adaptation when it eventually turned up on television a few months later. (I think the actual episode I was in was within the "Return Of Sherlock Holmes" series. I have since seen it again when it's been repeated on one of the digital channels, probably ITV2, but I can't be sure, but the Jeremy Brett episodes are always being shown on some digital channel or other. I have to say I do love them, the detail in them is remarkable. The production values are extremely high and they are extremely faithful to the original stories and in some cases they even reproduce the Sidney Paget illustrations very faithfully. They must have had a considerable budget in order to make drama of such amazingly high standards of production. I can't imagine television drama being made to the same degree of quality in today's television environment.)

Much has been made of the current 'Sherlock' series on BBC1 and starring Benedict Cumberbach and Martin Freeman. It's not the first time that the stories and characters have been up-dated to a modern setting, note the films made during the 1940's and starring Basil Rathbone. As much as I enjoy the new version and the way the writers have used modern technology to up-grade the whole Holmes world, I still prefer the originals. I have a magnificent set of annotated Sherlock Holmes stories which I bought through Amazon, called 'The New Annotated Sherlock Holmes' (not a particularly original title, I know, but never mind.) and annotated by Leslie S. Klinger and published by Norton. This work is in a set of three slip-cased volumes and in a large format and produced to an extremely high quality and there are enough notes and essays as well as most of the original artwork by Sidney Paget and other illustrators to keep most Holmes addicts very happy. I can recommend this annotated set of the stories highly. They sell for around £45 although you may find them for far less if you do a  Google search. I'm not sure now how much I paid for them on Amazon. The novels and the short stories come in two separate slip-cased sets and I can't now remember whether I bought them together or separately.

What is it about Holmes that is so intriguing? Is it the way he does his deductions? Is it the relationship he has with John Watson? Is it the fact that the more you read the stories, the more you discover about Holmes, what makes him tick, the fact that he is so enigmatic? I don't know, but the stories in general are so good, they keep you guessing, they make you want to keep 'turning the page.'  These are the things which makes good story-telling so brilliant and you can't fault Conan Doyle on this fact. Not all the stories are brilliant. The later ones, particularly those written after Conan Doyle bought Holmes back after the Reichenbach incident, due mainly, to public demand after he attempted to 'kill' Holmes, are not up to the same standard as the early ones, probably due to the fact that Conan Doyle had run out of ideas for him and the fact that he had by then got tired of the character, but they still have the same ability to intriguing the reader.