May Day, May Day!

Sunday. 7.10 a.m. I was going to close down this blog for a while, but I find it virtually impossible to ignore things that are going on around me. I've been writing this blog for so long, and it has become so embedded in my life that it's very difficult to let go of it, so here I am. 

Why do we have May Day in this country? I know in Russia (which, with the war going on in Ukraine at the moment, is non persona grata.) they had May Day as a celebration under Communism, but why on earth do we have it? I think it's an ancient fertility festival, probably going back millennia and dancing around the maypole was part of the festivities, which also included the crowning of a May Queen (one of the few remaining May Day festivals is or was held in Ickwell, Bedfordshire and was quite popular and probably now held on the May Bank Holiday Monday, although I wouldn't be too sure of that. The Bank Holiday, not necessarily in Great Britain, is a celebration of working people. On the other hand, 'May Day', as a distress call from a ship that is perhaps sinking, is based on the fact that the French term 'm'aider' which sounds similar, translates as 'help me!"

As I write this, my digital thermometer reads 82ªF and I see no attempt by anyone who should be dealing with this matter (shutting off the heating, full-blast in the middle of summer when the temperature outside is relatively high.)

It looks as if the workmen have at last finished painting the corridors and other areas within Dexter House. I must say, it looks a good deal better than it was. The dull, brown, wooden staircases which lead up to some flats, including mine, are now painted white. Now I want all the tat which fills up a lot of the spaces along my corridor removed. I know doey-eyed puppies and pussycats, ceramic boots with artificial flowers in them, Disney characters with awful grins on their faces aren't everyone's idea of style, but they really need disposing of. Just a lot of clutter and dust traps. 

I had someone from Mears come to look at my bathroom a few weeks ago.. It appears that I can't have a bath fitted as they would need to make 'structural alterations to the space, ie; remove the airing cupboard, in order to install a decent sized bath. I can have a shower unit. So, in that case, there is no choice. Rather like Henry Ford when he was asked about the colour of the Model T, you can have any colour, so long as it's black. It is supposed to take between two weeks and six months before I hear when the work is likely to take place. Well, ticking the box, it's more than two weeks since they came to see the bathroom, so it would seem I have to wait the obligatory six months to get any sort of response. WHY??? I appreciate it's not Mears who decides this matter, but it has to go through goodness knows how many departments within Milton Keynes Council to approve the work, but, let's be honest, it's just giving someone a job deciding the matter. They are upgrading this place, so they have already decided the matter, so they're just dragging their feet for no good reason.

I have a shower curtain on a rail which is kept in place by being screwed out and just pushed against the wall at each end. More by force of effort rather than having a sort of screw or bracket on the wall. I have hung clothes on this rail because there is absolutely nowhere else to hang clothes. I have put over-door hooks on the back of my bedroom door and of course, I can hang shirts and other clothes, on hangers, within the built-in wardrobe in my bedroom. I was awakened the other night by a sound, which I couldn't at first identify. I thought it might have been something being blown by the wind, as I have all the windows open because this flat is so excessively hot (as I've mentioned on numerous occasions in these posts.) I went through to the lounge but could see nothing which might have caused the sound. Then I went into the bathroom, to discover that the shower curtain, along with the rail, as well as some clothing which had hung on the rail, had fallen into the bath. So, it was that which had caused the sound I had heard. I went to The Range and bought a new shower curtain rail. I was surprised how scarce these items are, for whatever reason. I looked in Homebase, which is just over the road from The Range. Nothing to see there. I have since managed to install the new rail, and it's doing its job, not exactly perfectly, but working nonetheless. Well, you may be asking, what more can it do? Just not fall out of it's position.

1.15 p.m. I've been to church this morning. We have a computerized system which means the words of songs we sing are projected onto a screen and other information is used to be presented via this system. But today it wouldn't work. We are drawing to the end of The Prayer Course: Part 2, which will be this Thursday. The videos which we use at the beginning of each session are on YouTube and usually, there is no problem with the system, but this week there was a problem with it as there was last week when we used my iPad, connected to a Bluetooth speaker. I think there must be a problem with connecting to the church wi-fi system. Although we didn't have the lyrics of the songs this morning, we seemed to manage really well, probably as most people, myself included, knew the words of the songs and things went better than it might have done. Just shows that you don't really need all that technology at certain times.

I have mentioned that I have windows open to let out the heat (crazy when you think about it.) I wanted to have the kitchen window open to its fullest extent, but for some reason, it will only open a few inches, which is really ridiculous. Is this to prevent me from jumping out of the window, or, for that matter, people climbing in? I doubt it. If I intended to jump out (which might be possible, considering being copped up in here for two years due to pandemic lockdowns.) my fall would be impeded by a rather large hedge below the window, although you would have to roll down a few feet of a roof before you reached the hedge..So, it wouldn't be a very good place to fall out, as a means of escape or a means of ending it, although being confined with a load of fogeys might be one of the reasons to end it all (no, seriously I have no intention of so doing.)  although it might possibly be a reason just to get away from endless bingo Zimmer frames, electric scooters and being treated like a zombie. No, only joking, but that's what being cooped up in here does to you.

Monday. 6.25 a.m.  Bank Holiday Monday. My digital thermometer currently reads 78ºF. I still have two electric fans running at full blast but nothing seems to cool this flat sufficiently. I was out with Alfie at around 5.30. It was light outside and there seemed no point in sitting around when he needs to go out. But Alfie didn't really appreciate me taking him around Oldbrook Green, but I was determined to get my step count up to my target of 10,000 so I insisted, although his nibs was more than reluctant to go. Around five circuits of Oldbrook Green more or less produces the desired step count.

Virus Variant and Proof of The Pudding

There's supposed to be another variant of the coronavirus. Well, there would be, wouldn't there? There has to be. Just to make sure, we have yet another lockdown Christmas. Can't we just get used to it and be done with it? As Mr Jones the butcher says repeatedly in 'Dad's Army,' '"Don't panic!" It's all negatives. The media seems to love negatives. In fact, they seem to thrive on it.

Saturday. 9.15 p.m. Boris has been on doing his impersonation of being Prime Minister, telling us like good sheep that the omivirus (is that it's new name?) has arrived at the UK's shores, and we must keep on being told what to do etc. I mean, omicron. Why is this variant named after the 15th letter of the Greek alphabet?

I have managed to ice the Christmas cake I made. A layer of marzipan and then soft white icing. No sooner had I completed it than I had a parcel arrive with the decorations, and they are now on the cake! I have really got no idea how it tastes, and I can't wait to try it around Christmas day.

Monday. 10.25 a.m. A layer of snow covering the grass and other surfaces when I took out Alfie at around 7.20 this morning. It's not very thick, but still, it's still snow. Whether we get further remains to be seen. Very cold and I must remember to find my gloves as my hands were beginning to go blue, which is never a good sign.

Tuesday. 10.30 p.m. It's been a good deal milder today. I think Alfie appreciates it when it's warmer.

I went to Sainsbury's. Basically, to collect a repeat prescription from Lloyd's pharmacy. I have been attempting to get a doctor's appointment for the past two days. The cough is getting annoying and I really need something to relieve it. You ring and ring and only get a stupid recorded voice. I did attempt to leave a message for the receptionist, but then they emailed me to say I should ring to make an appointment. So much for our 'wonderful' NHS! What are they doing? Having extended tea breaks? More likely they are using the pandemic as an excuse to not do their jobs properly. I bought a bottle of Robitussin which I have started dosing myself with. It seems to be working. I just have to keep on taking it and hope it does its job.

I bought a sweet little Christmas tree in Sainsbury's. A real one, potted and ready to decorate. 

Wednesday. 6.40 a.m. Goodness! The 1st December. Where has the year gone? Gobbled up by covid, unfortunately. We have to wear face masks if we enter shops (which I had to in Sainsbury's yesterday morning. I thought I would get away without one, but the thought police were on duty so fortunately I had one in my coat pocket.

I have started to decorate the Christmas tree. Not only that, but I bought two sets of LED tree lights but ended up having to untangle them. Not an easy job. I went to Hobbycraft this morning and got some crêpe paper. Goodness, even that is made in China. I can't believe we can't make it in Britain, instead of having to import it from the other side of the world. Just think of the carbon emissions produced to transport it. Crazy! I then went into Pets At Home, which is further along the parade of units, and bought a small water bowl for Alfie which we can take with us when we go to Worcester for Christmas. Oh, and some treats, which will keep his nibs happy. I then walked along the parade to have a look in Smyth's toys. I have to say, I'm not impressed. Just a load of junk basically and plastic which will eventually end up in landfill. Nothing I would deem in any way suitable for either of the grandchildren. I'll just have to have a word with Chloe as to what she suggests. Something they can share, although I don't think that Rosie is exactly of the age to be able to share.

7.00 p.m. As I write this I can hear the wind howling around outside. Sounds somewhat mysterious and I almost expect Cathy to start knocking on the window to be let in, her out of 'Wuthering Heights.'

Thursday. 8.10 a.m. We were out at around around 7.30 a.m. this morning. There must have been a slight flurry of snow overnight, because the grass was covered in a light dusting of the white stuff. Alfie was soon beetling back indoors, having done his usual sniffing around act. I can hardly blame him as I'm not over-delighted with snow.

I made some mince pies to take to the final session of The Prayer Course this evening. It was mid-afternoon when this decision was made. I had all the ingredients, so I thought it would be a good dry run for making a far larger batch to take to Worcester. I was more than pleased with the result. The pastry was rich and crumbly, and I have to admit they tasted far better than bought mince pies. As they say, the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and all seven were consumed at the Prayer course. So, I'm more than happy to make a larger batch, but may keep them baking a few minutes longer than I did this test batch.

As regards this new virus variant, I think the that term 'proof of the pudding is in the eating' can just as well be used in relation to the virus as well as mince pies. We are told that we have to wait around three weeks to discover how infections it is, and it will be well into January before we can return to anything close to 'normal.'

November Cold and Other Matters

 Friday. 4.40 p.m. I have developed a rather unpleasant cold. I don't think I've had a cold since the 1990s, but certainly not in the time Carol I were together. I have kept to myself and didn't go to the 5th session of The Prayer Course at the Oaktree Centre yesterday evening. It's just a matter of letting it run its course, but as I write this it seems to be clearing up. I'm almost certain that I picked it up after being locked down due to the pandemic for the past eighteen months or more.

Sunday. 9.25 a.m. The cold is still hanging on. I'll just have to let it run its course. I'm not going to church this morning, more concerned that I would spread it to others than how I feel. Actually, it's just a runny nose and a cough, but that's all. I had far worse. I may get some honey and lemon to drink. A classic actor's remedy for a cold or laryngitis.

I've been out with Alfie twice. We discovered that it was chilly, but there is a somewhat watery sun. Alfie loves the leaves that are strewn along the path as we approach the crossing onto Oldbrook Green. A lot of noise from fireworks last night. Alfie's not reacted one bit. He doesn't seem in the least bit bothered by them, although the largest explosions made me jump. Almost sounded like bombs going off.

Monday. 7.25 a.m. It's cold out. I'm glad I've got extra layers to put on. Red-rosy sky. What does the old proverb say? 'Red sky at night, shepherd's delight. Red sky in the morning, shepherd's warning.' I think it's quite accurate, so we'll wait and see what sort of turn the weather makes. I just hope it's not too cold, windy, foggy, or icy.

Tuesday. 8.15 a.m. It's actually quite sunny and mild as I write this. Goodness! Can it be real? Is it connected to climate change? Probably. Possibly. Just another balmy day.

The wretched cold has run its course. I think the fact that I kept to myself for the past few days has paid off. I still have a bit of a cough, but that's nothing compared to a runny nose. I did have a bit of a temperature at one point, but that's settled back to normal.

7.35 p.m. I have finally finished the book 'The Thirties,' By Juliet Gardiner. It's a hefty tome of some 750 pages, and I can't believe I've been reading it since July! Only a few pages a day, so it's no wonder it has taken so long. I've just started 'Hamnet' by Maggie O'Farrell. I'm only one page in and I'm really enjoying it.

Saturday. 6.30 p.m. I didn't know whether to post this, but after seconds of thought, here I go. A few weeks ago I had a phone call from the undertakers who did Carol's funeral. Had I considered what I wanted to do with her ashes? I have been racking my brain for almost the last three years since she passed away. I didn't know where to scatter them. I had considered Whipsnade Zoo because it was one of our favourite places to visit. But I had to consider whether ZSL, who operates the zoo, would allow this. I had considered Dunstable Downs, just below the zoo. I hadn't done anything about this matter, until after the telephone call, when I was out walking Alfie around Oldbrook Green. In a sort of light-bulb moment, I thought of Salcey Forest, which was somewhere we visited regularly to walk our dogs. Then I thought, I had better contact whoever manages the place to ask if they would allow this. I thought it was important to ask permission as some places didn't allow the scattering of ashes. I found their email address and sent an email off and waited for a reply. I eventually got a response and was told it was okay but I mustn't dig the ashes in. I texted Daniel to tell him what my intentions were and to let his brother, Sam, know. I didn't get a response, so I found his email address and emailed him, repeating what I had put in the text message. I got an answer after several days in which he said if I let him know when I was going to scatter his mother's ashes he might be able to come down to be there.  On Tuesday I went on my own to Newport Pagnell to collect the ashes from the undertakers, Masons. Not something I was actually looking forward to, be it went well enough. I arranged the 10th November (last Wednesday), which gave him more than enough time for Daniel to sort out having the time off work and also plenty of time to get down here in Milton Keynes (I wanted the scattering to be around 2 p.m.) But I heard no more so went ahead, having asked my friends from Church, Mike, and Margaret, to go with me. So, that is exactly what we did last Wednesday, driving all the way to Salcey forest and I found just the perfect place to scatter the ashes. It was very peaceful with very few people around which probably wouldn't have been the case if we'd gone on a Saturday or Sunday. Margaret read a Bible passage and Mike said a prayer before I scattered the ashes and later I took a photograph of the site which I later sent to Carol's parents in Bournemouth. We then went to the cafe for hot chocolate and then drove back to Milton Keynes. The weather was perfect, with no rain, which might have made the proceedings somewhat difficult. Having been there quite a few times in the past, we had found it to be very muddy, but now most of the paths have a decent surface to walk on and the roads and car parking areas are similarly surfaced, making life far easier for all concerned.

Much of A Muchness

Monday. 4.50 a.m. Well, here I am, sitting in my armchair, merrily writing this blog post, but not with any real idea what I'm going to write, but I'm sure if I keep tapping away on the keyboard something will suddenly come to me. The big issue of the week is, you've guessed it, when am I going to manage to get diesel, so I can fuel the car? In that respect, nothing much has changed.

Wednesday. 6.50 a.m. It's dark and dreary. I don't exactly like this time of year, and even more so when the clocks change. Alfie is whittling to go out, but I will wait around ten minutes before we venture forth.

Thursday. 12.35 p.m. There's a great deal of banging and scraping in the next flat to mine. I have a feeling they are upgrading it. There's going to be a lot of renovation of the entire block. There are words written on the walls along the corridor, 'Pebble', 'Romney Wool' etc. These words (no, not one of the residents going bonkers due to lockdown and scrawling graffiti, though at times I feel like doing that.) refer to the carious paint colours which will eventually be gracing the corridor. Even the brown door-frames and window frames are to be given a lick of paint! Good gracious! Whatever next? The scooter sheds are in place, looking similar to bin cupboards or even those portable toilets you see at open-air events such as music festivals. They have rather cleverly designed roofs which slope backwards to prevent snow remaining on them or to make sure rain runs off. So, am I likely to get a revamp in my flat? I have someone to check out my bathroom. Will I be getting a full-length bath? A shower unit? A power shower? A bath with gold taps, diamond encrusted surround? Mosaics on the floor? A sauna? Or is that asking too much? Perhaps a hot tub in the garden? An Olympic-size swimming pool with all mod-cons? Don't hold your breath! One can dream I suppose.

Friday. 10.05 a.m. Yesterday evening we had the first session of The Prayer Course at the Oaktree Centre. I was leading the men's group after we had watched the video that goes with the course. Run in a similar fashion to the Alpha Course, which I have been involved in several times over the years, both as a participant and helper. It was my first experience of leading, and I was pleased how well it went, quite difficult utilizing all the questions within the twenty-minute time slot. My friends Margaret and Mike came to give me a lift in their car as mine is still without fuel, but still sitting on the drive. The fuel can is due to arrive from Amazon, so hopefully the fuel situation will be resolved when I have diesel in the fuel tank. Only time will tell.

The fuel can turned out around lunchtime. I have to say I was somewhat surprised as I was expecting it to turn up on Monday, probably late. It seems a good deal smaller than I was expecting, but it should be sufficiently large enough to manage enough diesel to at least partially fill my car's fuel tank. But I find the closure and the spout, which has to be fitted separately, relatively difficult to closer and attach, but I'm sure with some effort I can deal with these things.

I have a couple of books ordered from Postscript, a catalogue and on-line discount book company. Their latest catalogue came with my November issue of BBC History Magazine, so I had to browse and found two books, one about Stonehenge and the other about Hadrian's Wall, at greatly reduced prices, so it was too tempting, so did the order on their website, and they should arrive, delivered my Hermes. I knew, as soon as I saw the catalogue/leaflet/brochure, that I would find something of interest in it, as I have done before. Parcel expected to arrive sometime tomorrow.

I waited in all day for someone to come a check-out my bathroom to have a refit. They were supposed to come between 8am and 2 pm, but not a single thing, not a dicky bird, not an email, text message or telephone call to explain why they didn't arrive, not an apology or anything. So what happened? Maddening enough to have to wait in on the off-chance someone turns up and particularly when you're not sure exactly when they will arrive, but not turning up at all is infuriating. Not a good way to run a business. No doubt I will get a grovelling apology later in the week, but I somehow doubt it.

Saturday. 8.45 a.m. I didn't wake until around 7.15, so Alfie didn't get his usual outing until gone 7.30. Somewhat surprising to find it foggy as we walked down Strudwick Drive.

Because the car is virtually empty of fuel and not really advisable to drive, I made the decision to walk to Sainsbury's, which is no more than a twenty-minute walk away across Oldbrook Green and through some residential streets. I had a prescription to collect from Lloyd's pharmacy, so it was an excuse to pick up a few essential items, notably some more easy peelers, which I have eaten virtually every day since the pandemic began in March 2020. I've also bought a smart light bulb which is colour-changing. It is operated via an app on my iPad, and it was relatively easy to set up. Great also to be able to dim the bulb and have it at a purer white than the old bulb I had in the fitment which was giving off more of a dim oil lamp sort of glow or possibly candlelight strength, not really very good for reading by.

When I went out mid-morning with Alfie, and as we walked along the path beside Strudwick Drive, I could hear a sound which I thought was a bird. Then I stopped by the tree that hangs over the fence of the community garden at Dexter House and saw a squirrel running up and down the branches. It was that making the sounds. I wasn't even aware that squirrels made a noise, and not that sort of noise. Probably calling to its mate, or at least other squirrels. Most likely a warning sound made to alert other squirrels.

The Postscript books arrived mid-morning. I was surprised how quickly they came, considering the problems there have been with working under lockdown conditions for more than eighteen months