Easter Bank Holiday Monday

Saturday. 4.20 p.m. We had another men's breakfast this morning, this time in the restaurant at Dobbie's garden centre in Fenny Stratford. When I had taken Alfie out at around 6 o'clock, there was a mist hanging over Oldbrook Green, but it was still quite bright, but not sunny (well, the sun had barely risen by then. The moon was again shining brightly, more allusions to coins, medals and silver discs as a description seem more than  appropriate.) But when I went out at around 8.35 to drive to Fenny, I found that a thin fog had descended over Milton Keynes.

Some of the men's breakfast members (for want of a better word.) began to arrive. Dobbie's didn't open until 9 o'clock, but when a staff member came and opened the front door, we went inside and made our way to the restaurant. The entire place has been modernized, given a good deal more than a mere lick of paint. In the restaurant, the self-service element has been removed. It used to be one of those restaurants where you took a tray and moved along a counter where you could choose what you wanted to eat and a member of staff served you and then, when you had everything you wanted to eat, you went to a till to pay. You now go to your table and staff come to you, and they take your order, which is written on an iPad this is how your order is made up, and then it's bought to your table.

Monday. 6.40 a.m. It has been raining overnight. There were definitely signs of it when I went out with Alfie. Well, it is a Bank Holiday Monday, and it's surely traditional for rain on a Bank Holiday.

10.15 a.m. It's overcast and drizzling. By which I mean it's a rather paltry, thin sort of rain. Not the sort of weather you would want to go out in, in the traditional British, Bank Holiday visit, to a zoo, stately home or wherever, so it's just a stay-at-home sort of day. Alfie, I'm sure, would love to go out, but as it's a bit wet out, I don't think he'd enjoy it. We will wait and see how the weather develops and then perhaps go out.

I have been to get a few items from Sainsbury's. Fairy washing-up liquid is the main item, but also a few snacks. It wasn't excessively busy. Well, I don't think most people go grocery shopping on Bank Holiday Monday.

Going down on the travellator (moving people carrier? I don't know what you call it. It's what you stand on to get from the car park level below Sainsbury's store.) there is a really annoying recorded voice, which keeps on telling you to 'stand still and hold onto the rail' and, as you approach the top or bottom to 'get ready to push your trolley off the travellator.' It's so repetitive and annoying, done with a female voice. I was thinking, don't people think for themselves? Do we really need to be told the obvious, like this? (I have discussed this sort of thing elsewhere within these blog posts.) It's a bit like 'nanny knows best.' Okay, I know it's to warn you, but surely, any intelligent person can SEE the spot where you either get on the thing, or off (unless, of course, you are short-sighted or 'visually impaired (politically correct usage for 'blind.' The female voice is not only annoying, bossy and over-repetitive. Why not less hectoring? It could have Anne Robinson's voice, she of, 'The Weakest Link.' As you step off, or on, it could say 'You are the weakest link, goodbye!' or a Margaret Thatcher voice, in her rampaging headmistress-style voice. That would be enough to get customers moving. I was wondering if a female voice has the same effect on people compared to that of a male voice. 

2.00 p.m. The rain has ceased, and the sun has been shining, although it hasn't been very warm. As I write this, I can hear the wind roaring around the building.

Winter of Discontent 2; The Sequel

Monday. 8.45 a.m. Yet another bright and sunny morning. It seems almost spring-like, but, knowing the weather in this country, it's likely to change at very short notice.

As I'm sure I've mentioned in these blog posts at some stage or other, I am in the process of reading a set of books, although in no way connected by authors, which cover the history of Great Britain from around 1870 right up to, as near as possible, the current time. Of course, when such a book is being researched, the author has to allow some material, usually government papers, to be de-restricted, which is generally after 30 years, and in some cases, even more, usually where there is an element of secrecy involved, such as material which might be deemed sensitive, which might put the security of the nation in jeopardy.

I have now reached the 1980s, with the rise of Margaret Thatcher. During the 1970s we had endless strikes, which I remember vividly. Edward Heath and Harold Wilson and eventually James Callaghan met their match with the various unions in that period, which lead to each administration's downfall. 

I was thinking, with the current crop of strikes which are happening at the moment, such as rail workers, N.H.S. nurses and others, as well as teachers (and possibly others, which I can't remember which or whom.), it does somehow seem we're in the midst of the 1970s 'Winter of Discontent.' The difference I can see is that there are acts of Parliament in place to keep control of such actions the unions took in the 1970s, such as mass picketing, and there aren't as many people in unions as there were then.

Tuesday. 6.40 a.m. Alfie insisted on being taken out at around 6.20. I think it was rapidly approaching an emergency. He kept poking me with his paw, so it seemed a good idea to do as he wanted. I put him in the lounge with the door shut and no sooner had I shut the door than he began barking. t then took me five minutes to get myself fully dressed and I took the small torch with me when we got out onto the grass alongside Strudwick Drive, I found a slight frost. I will now have to check that the car isn't iced over as a result of overnight frost before I drive off to Camphill this morning.

4.40 p.m. I had to scrape a certain amount of ice off the car's windows before I went to Camphill. It wasn't much effort and, even with the sun shining, it was quite chilly this morning.

At Camphill Terrie is absent (she's the leader of the theatre workshop.) as well as several other members of the gang. As 'Twelfth Night' has finished, we're beginning to get ideas for the next play. Paul, who is Terrie's assistant, was in charge of things, and he had a whiteboard on which other people involved with the play had come up with what they had enjoyed about 'Twelfth Night' and what they'd like to do as the next production. The general idea is to allow the Camphill theatre workshop gang to have their say on what is produced. We then watched a video, via BBC iPlayer, of a production of 'Twelfth Night,' which was on at the Shakespeare Globe Theatre in London. 

Wednesday. 8.20 a.m. Quite a sharp frost this morning. I'm unsure whether there's ice on the car windows and I have to drive to Sainsbury's, so I'm likely going to have to scrape any off before I drive off.

I pay a service charge at Dexter House, and I have always paid it with my debit card online. It is usually a simple matter of going to the Milton Keynes Council website and entering my details, but it changed completely this morning, so I couldn't pay. I have made several attempts, but with no success. It seems someone has decided to change it, making things difficult. No doubt this will be resolved at some point in the next day or two, but why change something which works perfectly well?

10.45 a.m. The situation regarding the payment, as mentioned above, is now resolved. Paid and sorted out.

Snow 'n' Ice and Industrial Action

Friday. 8.30 a.m. Yet another bitingly cold morning. My car is iced up, so I've been out to run it and start scraping the ice off the windows. I found a can of de-icer hidden behind the driver's seat but couldn't remove the cap. Once indoors, I managed to remove the cap and will now be able to use the spray to defrost the rest of the windows. I will help set up the playgroup for the last time this year. The scraper has now disappeared and it's annoying as it's useful to remove the ice. It makes it such an easy job.

1.15 p.m. I've been to the Oaktree Centre to help set up the Acorns playgroup. It was partially set up when I arrived and there was to be a Christmas party, well actually two sessions when usually there would be one, starting at 10.00 and the second at around 11.15. Lots of children of pre-school age, bought by parents and grandparents. I think most of them come from around the Shenley area of Milton Keynes. 

Friday. 8.05 a.m. So, here we are once again. The week has come around and it's Friday. The days seem to go past so fast. Hence, my washing is in the machine, and I'm watching  BBC Breakfast on television. It's cold, but there doesn't seem to be any further snow, thankfully. 

We are in the middle of strikes. The NHS has been crippled by industrial action by members of the Royal College of Nursing (strange that a college should have union powers. Do unions have powers? I thought there was legislation bought in when Margaret Thatcher was in government when she enacted legislation regarding striking. Probably something about secondary picketing, but I'm not sure.) I have to say I think nurses do need a pay rise, but the government, and not just this particular government, constantly throws vast amounts of cash at the NHS, so what happens? It would appear nothing. Probably paying for more bureaucrats, pen-pushers and so on, which have virtually no effect on the care of patients. Then, of course, the NHS was virtually closed down during the pandemic and many services were shut down. The entire economy was closed down during lockdowns, and vast pots of money were thrown at people to sit at home and do nothing.  This might explain why we now have rising prices and inflation, but nobody seems to realize that is partially the cause for all this. Politicians blame the war in Ukraine, which might have a part to play, but throwing money around as was done for two years has to be paid for at some point. 

I know full well how nurses work and their devotion to their jobs, having first-hand experience of being in a hospital on the two occasions I've had heart attacks. Not just then, but during the time Carol was diagnosed with cancer and especially the period she was having chemotherapy. The nurses never stopped. They didn't seem to have breaks, or, if they did, I was never aware of them. Totally professional. They are the people that keep the NHS going.

Then there are strikes on the railways. These union members are only going to destroy their own jobs because all this disruption will only put people off using the railway system and eventually their jobs will disappear with automation and other technology.

Finally, Royal Mail is being crippled by even more strikes. This will likely spoil many people's Christmases, due to parcels and cards and other items being delayed. But there are other services available, such as DHL, and Evri, which allow you to send parcels, and probably a good deal cheaper than Royal Mail. How many letters do people send nowadays? I very rarely get letters, but plenty of junk mail, which ends up in the recycling bin. I think most people use email for personal stuff. With a first-class stamp costing almost £1, you can see why people don't use it much. 

A Roadmap Out Of Lockdown?

 (Monday) 7.30a.m. So Boris Johnson is to unveil a 'roadmap' out of lockdown later to day. Another of the infamous press conferences from Downing Street at around 7p.m. I just hope it's a road that has no hold-ups, with men in the road putting down cones and then you have to drive off the Motorway onto narrow country roads and then stuck behind a slowly-moving farm implement like an enormous combine harvester and then you go off down a narrow country lane and end up in a very muddy farmyard. Sorry for the mixed metaphors, but I just couldn't resist. I just hope that Boris has the roadmap the right way up and he has some sort of sense of direction so we don't end up in a cul de sac or even stuck under a bridge like a double decker bus whose driver doesn't have any idea of the route he's taking. Any more puns based on 'roadmap' write on a postcard or email to me.

I opened the curtains and looked out. Quite dry on the weather-front. There's a white van parked immediately outside and it has 'Bathroom tiling' emboldened along one side. It's obviously had a former life as it has 'Motorway Maintenance' on the rear with red and yellow stripes, the sort of vehicle you see going up and down the M1 or any other Motorway. Or is it (my stupid sense of the ridiculous.) an individual who is a motorway maintenance operative who does bathroom tiling on the side? Just hope he doesn't get the two jobs middled up and start tarmacing some dear old ladies bathroom or then tiling the hard shoulder of the M25 by accident. . . 

Later. I was supposed to have an electrician or someone come to do a safety check of the power points or something this afternoon. It was booked some while ago and I forgot about it but then it was rearranged for this afternoon, but I got a telephone call to say the workman was ill or something so it's had to be rearranged yet again. March 10th in the morning. I shall have to make sure I'm in when they come.

Later still. 'A one-way road to freedom' is how Boris Johnson has described the infamous 'roadmap' out of lockdown. I hope it is 'one way' and that there will be no u-turns. To mis-quote Margaret Thatcher, 'the gentleman's not for turning!' It's going to be cautious, but we must get out of this deadly ambush of our freedoms.

Could this possibly be aforementioned 'roadmap'? Bumpy road ahead, with one or two diversions for roadworks methinks, perhaps?

Later. I took Alfie out at around 2p.m. We went out through the door directly into Strudwick Drive and as I opened the door the wind made the door make a weird vibrating sound. I must say, the wind is quite strong at the moment, but to have a door making odd noises is really amusing and somewhat strange, but at the moment it's probably good to have something odd to take my minds off the relentless boredom of lockdown.

Back to reality, if that's possible. Now completed 26 pages of writing. Contemplating whether to transcribe it into word processing or not, the thought of it not a good idea as it's not my favourite job. I enjoy the actual writing (which, by the way, I do in pencil as it means it's easier to change as I go.

Wednesday 24th February. It's mild but windy this morning. Alfie curled up in his bed. He seems to like it as it's his own space.

I ordered a side unit on Amazon. It is small enough to go in the space currently take up by a red IKEA coffee table which I bought to the flat from the house in Eaglestone. It has drawers and shelving in it and should be an idea replacement. It was ordered on 3rd February and is supposed to arrive today, but I still can't understand why it's taking so long to be delivered. Generally if you order things from Amazon they take around a day to be delivered (I have Amazon Prime so you usually get preferential treatment regarding delivery and post and packaging. Also, you don't always know where an item comes from when you order. Goodness knows where this piece of furniture has come from and why on earth it's taking three weeks or more to arrive here.

Winter Weather, Viewing and Reading

Sunday started off with quite a shock to the system when I took Alfie our for his early-morning walk around Eaglestone Park this morning, because there was a more than usually very sharp frost. I had to make sure I was layered up, with a T shirt on and then one of my long-sleeved Rugby shirts and then my red Regatta fleece, topped off with my Regatta jacket. Last of all, gloves. It's not a good idea to get too cold when you have had a heart attack. Likewise, if it's too hot, as it was for a long period during the summer. Can infact be quite dangerous. I have already sprayed the car's windows with de-icer, although, by the time I took Alfie out, it was freezing up once more. So, running the engine of the car and having the heated windows on and the interior heater on should do the trick. I don't relish the through of driving with the windows either frozen up or misted over.

As the day wore on, the sun came out, but it was deceptive because it was still fairly chilly.

The BBC1 weather forecast at just before 6 o'clock this evening says that we can expect 'a short frost.' So, it's likely to be extremely cold over-night and even colder when I eventually take Alfie out tomorrow morning. Never mind, I'll just have to wrap up warm.

I'm currently reading a book called 'A Classless Society: Britain in the 1990s,' by Alwyn W.Turner. I think I mentioned in an earlier post that I'm endeavouring to read about this country from around the end of the Second World War right up to the present day (if at all possible.) This latest book covers not just the politics of the era, from the downfall of Margaret Thatcher and her successor, John Major, but the popular culture, such as pop music, television and cinema.

I've also been reading 'Nutshell' by Ian McEwan. It's loosely based on a section of Shakespeare's play 'Hamlet.' It's told through the voice of an unborn child. A very clever concept for a murder. I won't say any more, but it's a well crafted piece of writing which draws you in cleverly. Well worth a read and written by one of our finest novelists.

Television drama. We're really spoilt for choice at the moment. There isn't anything better than getting caught up in a really good drama series. In some ways television has the advantage over cinema, because you've got an almost endless playing length. A film can only be a certain length, say 90 minutes to 2 hours 30 minutes. Television drama is usually served up in one hour segments, which is a far more comfortable length for the average viewer to endure. I've been lent the DVDs of the first season of 'The Crown.' I don't have a Netflix subscription, the company behind this show. I'm really enjoying this series. It has really held my attention.

I'm watching the BBC1 adaptation of 'Les Misérables.' I've seen the musical, the original West End production, which I loved, as well as the movie which came out in 2012. I have also read the novel by Victor Hugo, upon which it is based. A good 1,500 pages. The new Andrew Davies-scripted adaptation opens up the narrative and gives far more context to the story. It's extremely gritty and realistic which makes it far more hard-hitting. It is being adapted in 6 hour-long episodes, which means there is plenty of time to do real justice to the story and the characters.

Plenty of history documentaries to keep me occupied. I've subscribed to a streaming service called 'History Hit,' which I have through my Amazon Fire Stick. Really spoilt for choice. Original documentaries and material first shown on BBC channels. The popular television historian Dan Snow is involved with this project. He fronts several documentaries on the platform, some under the title 'Snow On The Road.'

I was looking forward to Sky's adaptation of Sue Townsend's novel, 'The Queen and I.' I have read the book and enjoyed it, but the actual film adaptation was, for me at least, a real let-down. The acting was generally rather weak, the whole thing more like a weak cartoon caricature that anything else. I gave up watching after about half way. Heavy-handed direction and a somewhat limp script didn't help. The same could be said of 'The Discovery of Witches,' based on the novel by Deborah Harkness. Just not the sum of its parts. The concept of the show had real potential but it didn't warrant the investment in time and effort to watch so I didn't see it through to the end of the series. Just a bit limp and uninspiring, unfortunately.

Tenth Chemotherapy Cycle Postponed

It's another really beautiful warm spring day. We've been to the oncology suite so that Carol could have the usual blood test so that she can have the tenth chemotherapy cycle beginning tomorrow morning (Wednesday), depending on whether the test is as it should be.

As it happened, at around 6 o'clock on Wednesday evening we had a telephone call from oncology to say that there were not enough neutrophils in Carol's blood, which are the blood cells that fight infection. Which now means the tenth chemotherapy cycle has to be postponed until next week. This happened a couple of weeks ago and the next chemotherapy cycle was postponed for two weeks because Carols parents came to visit for a couple of days (see earlier blog post.)

So, I'm a bit lost as to what to write to make this blog post worthwhile. Well, we've been watching more episodes of 'The Woman In White', the current BBC1 classic adaptation. It seems to have really taken off after the third episode (of 5) but there's so many plots overlapping and so much going on it can be somewhat confusing. I don't think it will be particularly clear what's going on until we've seen the final episode (which was shown on May Bank Holiday Monday.)

I'm currently reading 'White Heat' by Dominic Sandbrook, part of his mammoth cycle of books tracing British history from Suez in 1956 up until the election of Margaret Thatcher. It's an extremely detailed account of the period, this particular volume covering the '60's, Harold Wilson, The Beatles, Mary Quant and other personalities.

It's been a really warm night. As a result, it's difficult to sleep, particularly when you have to keep the bedroom cool with the windows open.  You get the sound of cars along the A5 making a lot of sounds, racing, revving their engines. A lot of loud noises. During the day, then having bees and other flying insects buzzing in and out of the house.

Later. The Christmas tree, which is currently in the garden, in it's original pot from when it was bought in Dobbie's garden centre two Christmasses ago, is growing rapidly. It desperately needs re-potting before it dies off, which usually happens when we buy a 'live' Christmas tree. We have been meaning to find a suitable size pot so it can be transferred so that it can happily grow. In the current plastic pot it's likely to get pot-bound and then the roots will start to rot which will end with it dying which would be a shame since it's growing so successfully. We've seen suitable pots but hadn't got round to actually buying one, so this morning we went to Bunnings (which has taken over the Homebase branch in Winter Hill.) They had a quite spectacular selection of very suitable pots, one of which we purchased, along with a fuchsia  plant which Carol bought, along with potting compost and gravel to put in the pots. We had to use a trolley to convey our purchases to the till to pay and then out to the carpark, but the thing proved quite difficult to manoeuvre through the store and, once at the car, it took some effort to fit the various items in the interior of the vehicle.

We drove home to unload the posts, plants and bags of gravel and potting compost and then went out, first to drive through Woburn park, which is one of our favourite 'go-to' places when the weather is fine, searching out first rhododendrons which have begun flowering along the side of the road leading up to the cattle grids you have to go over on entering the open spaces of the deer park. We could see a few deer straggling across the road ahead of us, with one car stopped, no doubt to get a close-up view of these animals. Unfortunately we hadn't remembered to bring either of our cameras with us, because we might have got some really good shots had we got them with us.

We had to decide on somewhere suitable to have lunch so decided on Dobbie's at Bletchley, which has a good restaurant and we  had lattes, baguettes, panninis and cake. Carol had a rather nice slice of chocolate cake and I had a really tasty lemon frangipani tartlet, absolutely delicious. One of the best cakes I've had in a while. We must return at some time in the not-too distant future to partake of such delights again. We bought some plants which Carol wants to use in a bottle garden which she intends to construct in the former fish tank we have sitting in the garden.

Having finished in Dobbie's we drove back into Milton Keynes, to go to Marks and Spencer's at the football stadium where we bought milk and garlic bread which we needed.

My least-favourite job has to be done, mowing the grass. The grass seems to grow at unprecedented speed once we get any sun. It was cut a few weeks ago, and was somewhat difficult as I'd let it get too long and the mower, not really designed to cut such tough grass, really struggled. I think it's intended for those gardens which possess nice, neat turf and not the type of grass we have to contend with, more suitable to be eaten by horses, sheep and cattle and perhaps not mown at all.