Time and Tide

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All The Right Notes . . . But Not Necessarily In The Right Order!

Monday. 9.30 a.m. It's bright and sunny and unseasonably mild. I can't believe we'll be in December in a couple of days.

Not a lot to report at present. 

Tuesday. 5.15 p.m. Monday may have been somewhat dull (well, life at Dexter House is somewhat mundane, to say the least.) but today has been exceptional.

It didn't start out particularly well. As I've mentioned earlier, the drive to Camphill can be somewhat nerve-wracking. Normally, at a later time of day, it would take no more than ten minutes, but with heavy traffic, it can take twice as long. This morning, as usual, I drove along Strudwick Drive and onto Chaffron Way, but this beast of an H.G.V. came right up behind me. It was not a pleasant experience to have this thing looming over me, very nearly touching the back bumper of my Renault and I was more than pleased that it didn't continue following me as it turn off to the left along Saxon Street at the Eaglestone Roundabout `(also known as 'Four Bridges.')

The traffic heading for the centre of Milton Keynes is heavy along Chaffron Way, Portway and Childs Way. Crossing the various roundabouts along Brickhill Street on the way to Camphill can be quite daunting because you have to judge when there is going to be a gap and then drive forward. It's not great for me, particularly as I was run into twice when I was a home carer and used to drive around Milton Keynes between the various calls I had early in the day. Then there are aggressive drivers, who think it's fine to come right up behind you as you drive (called, I believe, 'tailgating.') Then some drivers don't seem to think you need to stop and wait for traffic to pass on roundabouts and just carry on regardless, which is probably why I got to run into. 

Well, thinking about the drive to Camphill, it wasn't as stressful as it can be, but I'm thinking, 'I thought that Milton Keynes was supposed to not have traffic problems, gridlock and similar when it was being planned in the 1960s.' It certainly doesn't live up to that promise. Some of the roundabouts really need to have temporary traffic lights at critical times of day, which would surely cut the hold-ups with cars bumper to bumper.

At Camphill there are early signs of Christmas as some of the houses have lights strung up on their exterior and on the front of the house which is directly opposite the Chrysalis Theatre, which has the cafe on its ground floor, there are lights strung across the walkways and balconies and a very large central wreath of holly and other seasonal vegetation which is ringed with lights which will only look their best when it gets dark.

The theatre workshop group met in the crypt in the theatre, because the theatre upstairs was being used by another group which came in from outside Camphill, called Phoenix Rising. The crypt is quite a cramped space, which made it difficult to do some of the exercises which we have been doing over the past few weeks, and which I am only just managing to follow.  The art space, a room along the corridor from the crypt, was used so the group could do work on designing their costumes for Twelfth Night, but then I was required to take a couple within the group out for a walk because one of them, who is diabetic, had high blood sugar and some for of exercise, such as walking, will help reduce his blood sugar. So we went out and did a circuit of Camphill and along the Grand Union Canal and past the tree cathedral which I pass on Brickhill Street and then back into Camphill.

Terrie, the leader of the group, was taking each member of the cast of Twelfth Night, into the wardrobe department and going through costumes for each actor in the play. It was interesting seeing what costumes the gang either chose or were given to wear. As this show is supposed to be vaguely inspired by steampunk it was difficult to see the connection, or am I missing the point?

After lunch,  I went with the same set of guys for yet another walk, but this time it was the reverse of the morning's group. I must remember to take a G.T.N. spray, because I began to get a slight angina attack, probably set off by the fact that we were walking much too fast, but it soon settled down. When we got back to the crypt, the rest of the afternoon was spent learning a sea shanty which Mitchell, who is a new member of the leadership group, had written, and it was great to get a chance to sing with the group. Then Terrie started work with the gang in Act 2 of Twelfth Night. The gang is given a sort of outline of each scene and then they start to improvise the scenes and the dialogue. Terrie has got a written text, based loosely on the Shakespeare text. The whole day was absolutely brilliant and I must say, going to Camphill does help my mental health and the group are so friendly and supportive, not just of one another but each other. As a result of all the walking done during the day, I managed to clock up just over 12,000 steps.

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.

Another Camphill Tuesday

Another day at Camphill. It was a relatively straightforward drive there, which made a change, Because I can generally expect aggression from other drivers, but I imagine that the run was more or less stress-free because it's half term this week. No parents dropping off their beloved offspring at Oakgrove School, which is on the roundabout at the intersection of Chaffron Way and Brickhlll Street, and any other Tuesday I could expect to be held up by hoards of inconsiderate parents, pulled over in a dangerous fashion, as they drop of their children, and usually there's a long line of cars waiting to get onto the roundabout and then similar line of cars at the various roundabouts along Brickhill Street.

We didn't immediately do anything concerning the drama workshop in the morning, because there was staff training, which was done in the Chrysalis Theatre. It was on fire safety, something which I have already done, as part of my training when I worked for a care agency in Bedford, called Care On  call, and, of memory serves, when I originally worked for the N.H.S., and done as part of my induction when I eventually worked at Vincent House, although, originally, I worked through what was called the Care Bank, and then worked in several of the N.H.S. learning disabilities throughout Bedfordshire.

It was decided that the drama workshop group, including myself, could attend the training session and we could sit in the balcony of the theatre. Only problem with this, regardless of the fact that the seats were a good deal more comfortable than those used by the Camphill staff in the main body of the theatre, sitting below us, was that it was difficult to hear clearly what the gentleman who gave the talk was saying. If he'd used a microphone of some sort it would have been considerably better, but never mind. I don't think the people who give these sorts of talks ever beed to use microphones. It was good to know something about fire extinguishers. It's as well to know which one to use on what sort of fire, for example, if it was paper, wood, gas or electrical. If you were to use water on an electrical fire you could be killed, due to shock, and that there are different extinguishers, water, foam etc. Also, that the horn on a foam extinguisher can cause frost bite because the horn and the pipe leading to it gets extremely cold. Not something you would realise otherwise. When I did my initial induction back in the late 1990s before working as a support worker for the N.H.S. Learning Disability service around Bedfordshire, I learnt this at the fire safety course, and we saw several fire extinguishers being used and you soon realise that they don't last long when discharged, you only get around 2 minutes, so you can't afford to waste time otherwise you will waste the contents on not actually extinguishing a fire. Also, virtually the first thing we were told was to not use wedges (or anything else) to keep doors open. So, what happens? The first shift I did, I can't remember where exactly, but they HAD WEDGES TO KEEP THE DOORS OPEN, because so many of the residents in this particular home used wheelchairs and it would have been extremely difficult to not have doors wedged open.

Well, at least I will get a certificate to prove that I had done the course. It would be awful if there was a fire (and I certainly hope there will never be.) and I didn't know how to deal with it.

Once the course was over, (and it ran from 10.00-11.30, which meant we didn't get a tea-break!) we set up to do a run-through of 'Stranger Danger,' and we had the entire complement of actors, so I didn't stand in for anyone missing, although I did do some prompting. We were realeased for lunch 8 MINUTES early, to make up for not having a tea break earlier and when we returned we did more rehearsal and then Teo decided that, by around 3, we wouldn't do any more rehearsals.

As mentioned a couple of weeks ago, Tao is going to be going away for a couple of weeks (I think it's three weeks, going skiing, but I'm not sure where. Last time he went, apparently he had an accident and had to be air-lifted home. He broke a leg, and the residents made it clear to him that he mustn't do it again!!) we had to choose three films which could be used as the basis for improvisations, when each of our actors (including Co-Workers and volunteers) had to nominate a favourite film, which they had copies of on DVD. After a sort of television talent show voting system, where we had to vote on what each had nominated, and the results scores gradually whittled down the list to just three films, which turned out to be 1- 'The Sound of Music; 2- 'Oliver!' and 3: Monty Python: And now For Something Completely Different.' So, next week we will be watching selections of each of these films (obviously there won't be enough to watch them in their entirety.) Then we will be put into groups and each group will create an improvisation based loosely on the film each group chooses. I can't wait to see what comes out of this. It was the same way we began developing the 'Treasure Island' project. The group watched a video of the original Robert Louis Stevenson novel, but it was just the jumping-off point to develop the play, which won't be a direct adaptation, but themes, characters and plots are the basis for a totally original piece of theatre.

Tuesday at Camphill

I went to Camphill as usual on Tuesday. I leave to drive there a good deal earlier in an attempt to avoid the traffic, which can get really busy at around 8.30a.m. Regardless of this, it can still be extremely busy. Crossing the roundabout where Chaffron Way crosses Marlborough Street as well as Brickhill Street crossing Childs Way and finally Portway, can be really hairy. It's a matter of just being a good deal more aggressive and go for it when the road is clear, but it's not pleasant and a build-up of traffic which can tail back a long way. The journey should take no more than 10 minutes, but at that early hour it can take a good 45 minutes.

Lot of people missing today. Co-workers as well as residents. I had to read in for those who were missing, although it was only a line rehearsal. Then we were sorting out costumes for the actors. We had to go under the stage and into the costume store and bring up rails of the costumes, some of which had carrier bags attached which had hand props and bits and pieces which made up the various costumes. But when we got to the door of the costume store the keys would not unlock the door so we spent a great deal of time trying various keys but still the door would not unlock. It took at least 20 minutes before we were able to find the correct key and then take the rail of costumes up into the theatre.

We have now been told that the final drama workshop session before the Christmas break will be on 17th December. A group who use the Chrysalis Theatre,  Phoenix Rising, will be coming to see what will be, in essence, a dress rehearsal of 'Stranger Danger.'

I've been asked if I would like to work on a Monday with the singing workshop. It would be good to have an additional day's volunteer work. When I went to the Willen Hospice coffee morning in John Lewis I sat with the group that are newly bereaved and separate from the larger group I usually sit with. I spoke to one of the volunteer ladies and we were talking and I mentioned my interest in Shakespeare and she said, had I ever considered being a volunteer at the Shakespeare Globe, the reconstructed theatre on the Southbank of the Thames? I had never even thought of it. She was a volunteer there and said I might be good at that sort of thing. You have to go for an interview and it's not about your knowledge of Shakespeare that would want, more your ability to engage with the public, being a  friendly face that the audience members would see when they visited. I'm not sure I want to go all the way into London (you get your train fare reimbursed, apparently.) And it's likely to be a long day and coming home at night would put me off, crossing London on the Underground and the fact it's noisy, dirty, and generally unpleasant so it might not appeal to me in that respect, even though I would love to be involved.

Moving Out!

I will be ringing the removal company tomorrow to arrange the date for moving. I frankly won't be sorry to leave this house. In the last few months I've be struggling to pay the rent, basically because Housing Benefit won't pay the whole amount and I've had to top it up with savings, most of which was paid from a death grant after Carol's passing. I am somewhat annoyed that I had to raid my savings account this month to pay the rent, but hope that once I've moved out this concern will be gone. It has caused no end of stress. I now learn, from my landlord's son, that he's expecting me to pay a proportion of rent until I go, which is another stress-point. Oh well, let them eat cake, as someone said. I should get one more Housing Benefit payment and that can go part-way towards rent.

I've taken a further couple of boxes of things to the flat. I will have to get some curtain track because I notice the windows in the flat have none. Then I must look for some curtains for the lounge and bedroom.

The broadband fibre installation continues. Just when I thought they had completed the work, I come across another group of workmen making holes in the road or a path. Alfie didn't get his second walk this afternoon because it was raining heavily, not that Alfie is in the least bit bothered by a drop of rain.

The landlord's son is expecting me to pay something like £400 for rent up until the 17th October, when my notice expires. But today (1st October) my rent payment will have gone out by Direct Debit, so if that's a whole month's rent in advance, HE will owe me for the weeks I'm not in the flat up until the end of October. Please don't tell me you pay rent in arrears. I bet he'll attempt to wriggle out of this and not pay me back the deposit. Which, wait a minute! He does or should owe me because of the deposit. Just tying myself in ever decreasing circles over this matter.

Later. I've been to Camphill as usual. During the morning I rang the removal firm and I have said I would like the move to be on either a Monday or Wednesday, because the other days I am engaged elsewhere and I don't want these days interrupted. The coordinator will arrange a day and I will have to pay a £50 deposit and the pay the balance on the day.

We had another run-through of 'Stranger Danger,' Teo is still on holiday, but I think he comes home sometimes this week. A couple of the guys are looking forward to having a holiday in Blackpool. I expect when they come back the following week they will be full of what they did, together with photographs on their mobiles.

We then worked on a proposed script for a video which will be put on the Chrysalis Theatre website. It will show people who come to see a show, or any other event which is put on in the Chrysalis, to explain that they can't park at Camphill, unless they are staff or disabled. We were put into two groups and went through ideas which the drama team came up with. The other group went out to the Peace Pagoda carpark, which is across the road from Camphill, to work out how people would find the theatre as that is the nearest carpark. Also, having to show them the route without crossing the road, Brickhill Street. I'm not sure whether we actually managed to come up with a script or storyboard for this video, which will eventually be made by Jeremy, who made the 'Stranger Danger' video, but at least some ideas were committed to paper.

After lunch we did more improvisations, sitting in a circle and doing 'Fortunately/unfortunately.' The idea being that you start off with someone coming up with a phrase, or a longer sentence, ending or beginning, 'So and so did whatever, and fortunately . . .' and then passing it on when the next person said, 'but unfortunately . . .' and so on around the circle. Some crazy things came out of this and it's quite a good way to start a story.

After lunch we did more improvisation. One exercise was with the drama guys standing on opposite sides of the hall (actually the auditorium of the Chrysalis Theatre.) and speaking their lines to the other person they speak to in the play. It turned out to be an excellent exercise to get them all to project their voices rather than shout and so it turned out.

Next, it was back to the improvisation method we started the previous week. Two groups were formed, each given a subject to work on, which meant devising a situation and then creating characters and the other team had to guess what the subject without it being mentioned. Ours was the seaside and some mimed swimming, playing tennis, and I mimed a 'Punch and Judy' show with the rest of the team sitting on the floor and watching.

The other team did their mime about going to the theatre. We got their subject but they didn't manage to get ours.

The day ended with a line rehearsal, just sitting in the auditorium and for some reason it had a great deal more energy than when it is acted with all the props and furniture. Probably because they can concentrate on their lines and don't have to think about where to enter and exit and move around on the stage.

Wild and Wet

(Tuesday)Alfie insisted on going out earlier than usual. It was dark and we could hardly see, but still, it really didn't matter to him. He got to bark as loud as ever and I let him off his lead at the bottom of the path and he had a god run. But there were a few drips of wet and it was close to raining so I didn't intend walking the entire circuit of Eaglestone Park. It was just as well that we didn't, because it soon began to rain in ernest and we got back to the house in time and as I write this at 7.45 it's continuing.

Usually when I drive down Chaffron Way to Camphill on a Tuesday, the traffic is reasonably busy. It can be a bit hairy crossing the roundabout on Marlborough Street and then on down Chaffron it's plain sailing. Generally there is traffic queuing up in the other direction, but the heavy rain caused quite difficult driving, with the water remaining on the road surface and making the possibility of aqua-plaining a possibility, so some cars were driving extra slow (in complete contrast to a dry day, when a lot of drivers speed and you get lot of 'tailgating,' as I've mentioned in previous blog posts. It took  good 15 minutes to reach the exit into the Waitrose carpark and a good 20 further minutes to drive along Brickhill Street and actually arrive in the Camphill carpark. I then had to walk to the Chrysalis, not particularly far, but in the process I got thoroughly wet, my trousers mostly, because I wore my Peter Storm jacket with the hood on, something I haven't worn in probably the past 12 months. The rain didn't ease off until mid-morning, and eventually the sun came out and it because quite sunny by lunchtime.

Teo, the leader of the theatre workshop at Camphill, is still on holiday, so his deputy, Paul was in charge for the day. We did a run-through of 'Stranger Danger' up until teatime and then, when we went back we did something completely different, improvisation. We all sat in a circle (which seems the default.) and the idea was to tell the rest of the gang three things about yourself, two which were fake and one that was true, and then the other way round, two which are true and one fake. We all went off and had to come up with these fake/true things, myself going with one of the guys, Matthew, to the library (more of an office than a library.) and it was quite difficult to get him to say something which wasn't going to be too much of a give-away, because the others would know which was true and which fake.

After lunch we were on a totally different improvisation game. Some were supposed to be in a car. That was it. No more information. My group were supposed to be in a lift. The idea being that the lift started at the bottom of the building and when the doors first open one person gets in and gradually it stops at each floor as it goes up and more people get on at each floor. We managed to develop our own characters but somehow we couldn't get a story to develop, which was a pity. It's no good having a character, but they need to have a reason why they were getting in the lift, where were they going? What was the reason for getting in the lift and so on.

The we did another game (if that's the right word) where we had a partner, and we stood either side of the hall (auditorium of the Chrysalis Theatre) and had to speak without shouting, across at your partner, and make sure they could hear during a conversation. Another worthwhile bit of improvisation.

Then we did a second improvisation which was supposed to be set on a bus, so we had chairs set out in the form of a bus with the seats in rows with an aisle in the middle. We came up with characters on the bus, mine being someone going for a hospital appointment and being stressed that the bus was going to get to Oxford on time. Someone became the driver and someone else the conductor (do they have conductors on busses these days? My experience of going on a bus is that they don't, because you pay the driver when you board the bus, but that's a minor quibble.) As the conductor walked along the bus he asked to see passengers tickets and everyone made an excuse as to why they didn't have one. One of the group improvised being a spy, and when the conductor came to ask for his ticket, he got out all his secret weapons, hidden in a briefcase or bag, and just showed him as not being very good at being a SECRET spy! A good afternoon's work and everyone agreed it was worth doing the improvisations.

(Wednesday) I've tried to put off going out with Alfie as late as possible, because it's far too dark to see clearly, but you try explaining to a very lively Yorkshire Terrier! When I did eventually get dressed and prepared to go out with him, I discovered it was raining, not that hard, but enough to get somewhat damp. So I took young fellow-me-lad down to the bottom of the path where I usually let him off and came back home almost immediately.

All Sorts

I'm really overwhelmed that two people I know, who are doing the Church Course on Thursday evenings have offered to drive me all the way to Worcester to see my new Grandson, Arthur. It's arranged with my daughter Chloe, and I'm going next Monday. Really looking forward to going.

The medication I had last Tuesday when I went to see the doctor, has now run out, so I've had to make another doctor's appointment this morning. Fortunately it didn't take that long to get through on the phone, but I'm now sitting here waiting for a doctor to ring and arrange the appointment.

Later. I was actually quite surprised by how quickly I got a doctor's call. I didn't have to go into the surgery to have a face-to-face appointment. The prescription for Diazepam was sent electronically to Lloyd's pharmacy in Sainsbury's, so I made a trip there as I had a few items I needed for my pack-up lunch which I will take with me to Campbell tomorrow.

I had texted Chloe about me coming to visit to see grandson Arthur. Chloe has soon responded and I'm going next Monday and will be there around midday. I'm not likely to see George or Eddie because they will be at playgroup. I will be able to take Eddie's birthday present which I had all wrapped up ready but was unable to take because I couldn't go two weeks ago.

Wednesday. I went to Camphill yesterday. I left to drive there a good deal earlier than I would otherwise and I'm glad I did. The pinch-points at the roundabouts along Brickhill Street, where there is usually heavy traffic heading into the centre of Milton Keynes are difficult to cross and made more so when you have a driver close behind you who has no patience and would happily see you crash into one of the vehicles negotiating these two roundabouts, on Childs Way and Portway. One miscalculation and you'd get run into, which is something I don't intend to do, but it is quite stressful and not good when you have a heart condition as I have. I sometimes think that if they were to just install traffic lights at these points, the other one being on the Saxon Street/Standing Way roundabout, then it would make life easier and safer, probably just at those times such as early morning and evening. But I imagine to just suggest it would not go down with a lot of drivers, probably those who love to tail-gate other drivers and drive excessively fast. The driving speed around the Grid Roads of Milton Keynes needs to be lowered to around 50 M.P.H.

We spent the morning being split up into groups to continue with Stranger Danger. I was working with one of the students who work with us as support, attempting to get two of the residents to really push things further to find the comedy in the piece, going over it several times, with me reading the lines of one of the residents who wasn't with us. We were working in what they call The Crypt, and not in the main theatre, because they were setting up the lighting for a show that was being put on in the Chrysalis (the name of the theatre at Camphill.) Once we'd spent around 30 minutes on this rehearsal we then went back to the Crypt to show to the others what we'd done and it was remarkable how, with a bit of effort, we could get laughs where possibly there hadn't been before. After lunch there was a training session for the residents on food safety and handling. Probably I've done this several times before, and we spent quite a lot of time shifting chairs and tables, the result of which really made me very tired. Possibly that and the effect of the new medication I'm on. They then had a community assembly after the trining session, but I didn't stay because I was feeling totally washed out. A pity, but perhaps on another occasion I will stay to see what this entails.

This morning I couldn't get the Freeview box to respond. I kept getting a 'No Signal' message. I couldn't see how to resolve it until I thought that perhaps it needed re-tuning. This usually happens at night. So, I managed to do this and now it's working perfectly. As a result of not having the Freeview box working I couldn't see BBC Breakfast, but, honestly to goodness, with the constant news about Brexit, I think I am better off not watching.

Later in the day I managed to upgrade the Freeview box. Often, when you start it up you get a message that says, 'upgrade now,' because there's new channels which are added. So you press the 'OK' button on the remote control and the thing does it's thing and then another message says 're-ordering channels,' and that's what it does. Not such a problem, but it does it so regularly that you have to let it 'do it's thing.'

Volunteering At Camphill

I've been a volunteer at Camphill for quite a while now. It must be two months, if not more. I have mentioned this in previous blog posts. When I started there I only did a few hours, from 9 until 12. More to see whether I could cope with the hours as well as to see if I would fit in, whether the residents would get on with me. I do fit in and they seem to like having me there. It's actually a perfect fit from all aspects.

It seemed to take for ever to get to Camphill this morning (Tuesday). There was a tractor with a grass mower on the back going along Chaffron Way, all the way from my leaving Eaglestone until I turned onto Brickhill Street near Waitrose at Oakgrove. It meant that I could drive at barely 20 m.p.h., and as a consequence the traffic behind had to follow. There was  no way I could overtake. There are traffic calming areas which have recently been installed along the central reservation. If you even attempted to overtake there was a very strong risk of running into the cones and other barriers which are in the way. I don't think some drivers appreciate having to drive so slowly, but at least it meant none of the stupid tailgating that I have to endure most days when I am out in the car.

When I eventually got to Camphill and parked the car, it turned out that around half the drama group were going to be out, visiting a school in Milton Keynes, Hazley Academy as it turned out, something to do with planting herbs in pots. I think it was for the school childen to sell, but I'm not sure. At the beginning of each session the residents have to give a sort of resume of how they felt and what they had been doing and what they expected to get out of the day. Support staff (which is what I am, even though I'm voluntary.) have to also give an account of themselves. I had the Disclosure Certificate with me, so I had to got to the office to inform them that I now had this piece of quite important paper and it has now been photocopied and put in my file. We spent most of the morning tidying up the theatre, sweeping and vacuuming and moving equipment around and then we went upstairs to the library (I can't think why it's called a library, because there weren't a lot of books in evidence. More of an office. Tao, the theatre leader (I'm not sure of his actual title, but he seems in charge of most things in the theatre, not just directing the student actors, but the general running of the place, including the technical side.) wanted to have a written document to explain what happens when a tea-break is called. I am to be given responsibility for keeping the tea-bar organised, to make sure it is clean and tidy, the dish washer is properly organised, the tablet put in whenever a load is put in and emptied etc etc. So we sat and this document was created using a MacBook (the whole theatre department is extremely well equipped with MacBooks, iPads etc etc as well as digital projectors which means DVDs of films can be shown, including the one that has been made of the Stranger Danger project, which was shown to the community assembly last week. Unfortunately I was unable to attend, although my name is to be added to the credits, even though I have only been involved for a few weeks.)

We broke for lunch and I had my first experience of the Camphill café. I am really impressed by the whole set-up. You have a waiter/ waitress service, staffed by residents, and they bring it to your table. I had cheese toasty and latte and then a slice of really great chocolate fudge cake. I shall definitely be returning for further lunches over the next few months and years.

After lunch I helped load the dish washer with one of the drama regulars and then we sat and discussed what we wanted the video to be delivered on, either a memory stick or DVD, or given a link to the Vimeo upload on the internet. I had decided to have it on DVD so I can play it on my television which has a built in DVD player.

As there weren't all of the gang during the afternoon, Teo decided that, because it was so hot and sunny, to take everyone out for a walk along the shore of Willen Lake. It is only a fairly short walk over Brickhill Street, passing under the road and then out to the path. It was quite a long haul walking along the shore of the lake, but because it was such a pleasant afternoon it was just perfect and stopping to look at some birds and some of the guys recognising whatever species they were. Then further, walking along the path that passes Willen Hospice and remembering what it was like when My lovely Carol was there. This is where we took George, my grandson, when Chloe and Steve bought both grandsons to visit Carol and George seemed more interested in what the workmen were doing chopping down some of the branches of the trees when it was very windy. Then we went through Willen village and back around to the path on the other side of the lake and back to Camphill, climbing up a fairly steep hill that lead to the foot  bridge that crossed Brickhill Street and in to the entrance at the back of the Camphill campus. I will say that all that walking did some good for me as I had a really good  night's sleep. That's what good exercise does for you!

Carol Moves to Castlemead Court

On Sunday, when I visited Carol a good deal later than I usually visit, I learned that Carol was moving to Castlemead Court in Newport Pagnell. One of the nurses came into her room at Willen to say that transport had been booked to take her there and I would need to start packing her belongings as there wouldn't be room on the ambulance for more than one bag of things, so most of her belongings would need to be transported in our car.

On Monday morning I was told that there would be an ambulance to take Carol from Willen Hospice to Castlemead Court and that it was booked for between 11-11.30 a.m., but they didn't actually arrive until about 1.30. Carol missed lunch, but she had a bowl of soup. We'd managed to pack up all her belongings into several carrier bags which were put in the back of the car. Carol was transferred from her bed onto a stretcher by the paramedics and wheeled out to the ambulance. I drove off out of the carpark and I soon caught up with the ambulance as it left Willen Village and managed to follow it all the way to Newport Pagnell and I was surprised how close it was to Castlemead Court, probably no more than two miles.

On arrival at Castlemead the paramedics unloaded Carol on the stretcher and wheeled her into the unit and I followed with as much of the bags as i could carry and took them into the unit and into the room where she was ensconced a few minutes before I arrived.

It's a friendly enough place, Castlemead. Carol has learnt that she is the youngest person there. A lot of altzeimers sufferers, people in wheelchairs, a lot of screaming and someone calling out constantly. Carol prefers to have her door open, but it's sometimes necessary to close it when there's too much noise. She has been asleep or at least very drowsy when I have arrived in the morning and she's usually being given a wash and the bedding changed when I turn up, so I have to wait in the lounge area, which is just opposite her room. Plenty of armchairs to sit in and a large-screen television. They have put up Christmas decorations. You can always go into the kitchen area in the dining room to make a cup of tea or coffee and Carol gets a choice at meal-time. I generally help her eat her breakfast or lunch. There is a menu on the wall along the corridor so you can always check what there is for each meal, all prepared fresh on the premises.

The big issue I have with Castlemead is finding a place to park. I find if I get there early enough, around 10 a.m., I can usually park easily. On Wednesday, when I drove over from Milton Keynes, I have come via Willen, along Brickhill Street, but that day there I found out until far too late that the road was closed so I had to drive towards the city centre and go via Monk's Way, the road that goes towards Chichley and Only, and cut through to Newport Pagnell along the usual road I take into the centre of the town. Just annoying that I wasn't informed of the road closure earlier and had to drive several miles out of my way.

Staff are allowed to bring their dogs to work. So there can be a couple of really delightful dogs running about the unit. One, called Charlie, does tricks. You have to know the hand gestures that will get him to 'sit' or 'roll over,' and then give him a treat out of a box which is kept near the television. Carol loves him, and he was put on her bed to stroke. A really good way to motivate residents, in particular, those with alzheimer's. On my first arrival when I was viewing the place last week, I was greeted at the front door by a little shitzu, which was one half of our dog, Poppy, who was a cross Westie/ Schitzu. It barked at me and kept coming up to me and then when I arrived on one of the upper floors I was greeted by two, what I think were pugs. I think Charlie is a pug, but I'm not exactly sure.

Alfie Visits The Vet

Alfie has had a really nasty build-up of the weeping eyes on his face. I think most dogs seem to have this problem. It would normally be easily removed by dabbing with a piece of wet cotton wool, but it has got worse over time. The lady who groomed him the other week took of some, but it has got to looking really red and sore, so we had no alternative but to get a vet to look at it. I rang the surgery which is near Waitrose in Oakgrove called Pet Practice and booked an appointment for 2 o'clock this afternoon. It would have been easy enough to get to by car but for the fact that Chaffron Way was closed off from the Eaglestone end, so we had no alternative but to drive round onto Child's Way and approach Oakgrove via Brickhill Street, but we missed the turning right and ended up going round onto Tongwell Street and round the city and down Brickhill Street. Fortunately the end of Chaffron Way was accessible for the entrance into the Waitrose carpark so it was easy enough to park and conveniently close to the vet surgery.  During all this journey, Alfie was being held by Carol on her knee, otherwise I was going to have to put the cage in the back of the car for Alfie to ride in, which might have been easier and safer in the long run, as he was determined to sit on my knee as I drove, but that was totally impractical and possibly dangerous. The vet had a look at the two nasty areas under both eyes and managed to remove some of the built-up matter under one eye. But Alfie didn't like it as no doubt it stung and began to growl when she tried to remove the built-up matter from his other eye. After a rest, she had another attempt and got some more off leaving the area under each eye looking red and raw. She has given us two lots of medication, one a pain killer and another antibiotics which have to be administer mixed with his food. She wants him to come back on Thursday to check on how things are progressing. I think Alfie was expecting to go for a walk when Carol got out his lead when we were about to leave the house, and was somewhat shocked when he discovered he was being taken to the vet, a bit like a few weeks ago when the mobile groomer came to the house and took him off to her van to be bathed and then clipped. I just hope that the roadworks along Chaffron Way is finished and that it's possible to drive there without going on a detour to get to Oakgrove on Thursday.

Alfie Has A Haircut

We've been looking for a dog groomer for Alfie. It's not the simplest of things finding someone who can do the job. I kept ringing numbers found through the internet. Most seem to be fully booked well into the summer months. It would have been easier to get a mobile groomer as it would mean less stress for him. We had someone do this a few years ago, but Poppy was very difficult to get groomed as she didn't like being handled, particularly her paws. It got to the stage where her nails got really bad. Alfie, on the other hand, seems to relish being pampered and made a fuss of. We took them to the Grooming Room which is within Pets At Home, there being two branches within easy reach, one at Bletchley and the other at Rooksley. I attempted to book Alfie in at the Bletchley branch but they were over-subscribed. Anyway, his coat was beginning to look very untidy, his claws needed trimming as they were getting caught in various bits of clothing and bedding and the build-up of black mess under his eyes was looking really horrible and was getting really serious. Anyway, I eventually found someone who who do the job, booked about a month in advance. The lady in question was put in the diary for 2 o'clock today.

We went to Waitrose to do a bit of shopping earlier in the morning. We went to Newport Pagnall because Carol's mum and dad are coming up from Bournemouth and staying in a hotel in Tickford Street. Carol wanted to drive over to find it. We went down Chaffron Way and then cut across towards Monks Way. There were signs up at the Eaglestone end that the road was going to be closed off for resurfacing work (well, I assumed it was resurfacing, as they are doing most of the Milton Keynes grid roads.) On the way back we found we couldn't get into Oakgrove, where Waitrose is located, as the Chaffron Way section was closed off for the resurfacing. We managed to get in via Brickhill Street. On arrival at the Waitrose carpark, the place was virtually empty, likewise the actual store. I imagine they will be loosing a lot of custom due to the roadworks. But it meant we got what we wanted in the store a good deal faster than we normally would. I also took out cash to pay the groomer lady from the Metro Bank A.T.M. near Waitrose.

We got home and unpacked the shopping in the kitchen and then I did some washing up. As I stood at the sink, the telephone rang. It was the groomer lady. Would it alright if she came earlier? I said, fine. She would be with us in around 45 minutes, making it about 11.45.  Carol had Alfie on his lead, and had intended taking him out for a walk, but he gets so stressed out whenever he realises he's going out for a walk, that it wasn't going to happen because the groomer lady knocked on the door and we handed over Alfie to be sorted.

So, about 90 minutes later, another knock on the door, the sound of a very distinctive bark, and Alfie is handed back over, shorn, looking very different. None of his curly coat left, we can see his eyes, so he can see where he's going and the horrible mess on his face- gone- but the skin underneath looking very red and raw. He looked somewhat shocked, his ears laid back on his head. But he does look better and far neater. Really worth the wait and effort expended. We'll have to make sure that he doesn't get into such a bad state before he has his nest haircut.