The Cold(er) Blasts of Wintery Weather

Thursday12.00 p.m. It's a good deal colder this morning. I thought there was ice on my car before I drove off to the Oaktree Centre at around 8.50 a.m. to help set up the playgroup, but it wasn't ice, just moisture, so that was a relief.

Friday. 9.15 a.m. The washing is in the dryer. It will take around 45 minutes before it is dry enough to remove and for me to hang my shirts in the wardrobe and the rest in the drawer unit. Then, with my shopping list in my hand, I will be off to Sainsbury's.

Yet another relatively mild morning. Totally unseasonal.

Saturday. 6.55 a.m. It's dark. Well, that's a surprise? No, well, it is usually at this time of the morning in early December. 

Sunday. 8.10 a.m. My posts on here are getting thinner and thinner. 

The weather is getting considerably colder as the days go by. What do you expect in December?

The World Cup is dominating everything at the moment. I am no fan of football, so it's something to avoid. It's not necessarily the football that I find annoying, but all the waffle they dole out, the constant chatter which is more like padding between the games and the fact that all three main television channels have games on at the same time. You get highly-paid, so-called pundits, such as Gary Lineker, rambling on incessantly, and then they have what I think you call 'vox-pops', where they go out into the streets and ask members of the public for their views. Totally irrelevant and meaningless. Not journalism at all. Crazy. 

12.30 p.m. We had café church at SCF this morning. In fact, I have just got back. The idea is to attract non-church-goers into the Oaktree Centre and there's free cake, coffee, tea and other goodies and games for the children to play and a time to chat with anyone and everyone and make friendships. I have spoken to several people I haven't met or even spoken to before and a good sense of community.

3.35 p.m. I have resubscribed to Britbox, the streaming service which is owned by all the major British television providers, BBC, ITV, Channel 4 and 5. There is a lot of classic drama on there, Doctor Who, Keeping Up Appearances, Fawlty Towers and more and quite a lot of original content. I was interested in watching the new series of 'Staged' the comedy starring David Tennant and Michael Sheen, which is set during the pandemic and imagines them staging a play via Zoom. The new series is exclusive to Britbox. At £5.99 a month it seems excellent value and the content is constantly changing, with stuff being taken off and new stuff being added.

6.25 p.m. I'm watching the BBC's 1970s serialization of 'I Claudius' on Britbox. This was one of the BBC's hits in its day. Derek Jacobi was Claudius, with a stammer. It is somewhat stagey by modern standards. No exteriors and definitely studio-bound, but that was the way television drama was made in the mid-1970s. It has stood the test of time remarkably well. They must have spent a lot on sets and costumes. Also made on tape rather than film. It's more like a filmed stage play. Derek Jacobi's makeup is a bit ropey. I don't know what age he was when he played the part of Claudius, but he's made to appear as an old man, who is telling the story. Other actors who appear are Sian Phillips as Claudius's mother, Brian Blessed, (here far more restrained than his usual 'shouty' acting in later programmes and films.) and John Hurt as Caligula. 

More Weird Sports

So, we've spent the last couple of weeks watching the European Championships 2018, mostly from Glasgow, but some from Berlin. So, how weird is it to have something like this from two cities, hundreds of miles apart? Just think of the coordination. We turned on the television to be confronted by what was called a 'Walking Race'. Really? They didn't look as if they were walking to me, more like waddling. Who on earth invented this strange contest? Over, wait for it, 24 km? Did I read that right? What's that in miles? I don't know, but it certainly wasn't walking. If I was to walk like that, I'd get an awful stitch, or my hips would ache. Then, apparently, they had two events of this sort at the same time, the men and women. How did that happen? Something to do with there being an incident with gas or something. But it just looked so odd. Is it me, or was it odd? It was, no doubt. How come none of them just began to run? I know, it wouldn't be in the rules, but walking? Doesn't make any sense at all.  Then, a bit later, the B.M.X. something-or-other. Young men, on bicycles which looked far too small for them (most of them must have been around my height, around 6ft plus, on bicycles that looked to me as if they were build for children), then they hurl themselves down a very steep slope (!) and then bounce around jumping over what look like little more than concrete-coated waves, along the course, going round in circles. Land badly and you ruin your chances of fatherhood. No, seriously, or have a nasty accident, which several of them did. I just hope the saddles on those bikes were comfortable, although, most of the time, they didn't actually sit down on them, a bit like jockeys in horse races, when they don't actually sit in the saddles on those horses, sort of perched at a rather peculiar angle on top of their mounts. 

The decathlon is another event which is quite entertaining ( more than 'quite.' It's very entertaining.) Who invented this? Swimming, running and then cycling? None of the different 'parts' is exactly a walk in the park. Figuratively or literally. I mean, a run, swim, or cycle in a rather attractive Glasgow country park. Makes football look more like a game of tiddlywinks by comparison. And none of these competitors earn a penny, unlike those footballers who earn telephone numbers. Crazy. They'd have a hissy fit if they so much as got mud on their over-sponsored football boots. In the olden days, back in the mists of time, footballers earned realistic salaries and then had proper jobs in factories or coal mines and played football as a sort of hobby at the weekend.

Thinking again about the road races. I'm intrigued by the camera-work involved. No, really. The actual racing is fantastic, which is odd for me, particularly as I'm not really that interested in sport, particularly those sports that go on interminably, such as tennis, or cricket or, for that matter, football. The last lot we saw, was it during the World Cup from Russia, a couple of weeks ago, (although most of it I watched whilst looking at email or other stuff on my MacBook laptop.) I have to say, looked really bland and could have just as well been a computer simulation or a computer game. The grass looks unfeasibly green and more like astro turf of even fitted carpet and all that advertising that they had all around the pitch was a real distraction. What I meant to say, before I digressed, was the way they shot the events for television. They had a sort of camera fitted to a line stretched across the course, and a camera ran along this line, which must have been quite distracting for the competitors. Then, during the road-races, they had cameras on scooters. How on earth did those cameramen manage to balance on the back of these scooters, and how did they manage to not fall off? I couldn't see how they were sitting on the back of the scooters, usually several yards in front of the leading competitors,  then shooting backwards at them, managing to keep the camera steady, and, by the size of them, along with the lenses, managing to keep hold of the camera and focussing on the competitors and generally taking decent shots. How did they avoid all the 'health and safety' rules and regulations regarding this? Just think of the risk assessments for this, or if it comes to that, the B.M.X. events.

Well, if nothing else, I've managed to get quite a lot of blog posts out of watching these events. And, very surprisingly, become something of a fan along the way. Probably because they've had several sports involved, and you can enjoy the scenery if you get bored with the actual sports, which is quite breathtaking. Perhaps it's my Scottish ancestry coming out, because my father's side of the family came from Glasgow, or at least, just outside somewhere or other.

After so many weeks of scorching hot weather, it's actually pleasant to be having rain, as we had yesterday. I can't believe I just wrote that, because, generally, if it rains in this country, it brings doom and gloom. At first we had a miserable rain, no more than a sort of dribble, but it's now a good deal stronger. I just hope it's enough to freshen up things because the grass looks dead and shrivelled all along the Grid Roads around Milton Keynes. I had hoped to take Alfie for a second walk this afternoon, but it really wouldn't be such a good idea, because both of us would only end up soaked to the skin.

I took the car back to Bleak Hall Motors to have the work done so that it could have it's MoT certificate. Got there by around 7.50 so I had to wait until they opened up. Considerably cooler so I wished I hadn't worn my shorts. Anyway, round about 9.30 they told me it as completed, so payed using my debit card and left. I'm just glad that's done. Fortunately the brakes don't need any work doing, they seem o.k., so that's less of a worry, although the car could do with servicing.

I took Alfie was a shorter walk than usual, because of the on-and-off rain. He'd been expecting to be taken out earlier, but there wasn't time before I had to take the car to Bleak Hall Motors.

Saturday morning. It's a bright and sunny morning. No sign of rain. What rain we had over the past couple of days hasn't made much of an effect on the grass, the garden or any vegetation around where we live. Yesterday afternoon there was a quite violent rainstorm, with fairly high winds, but nothing too dramatic. There was quite a cascade of water running along the front of the house when the nurse came to give Carol her antibiotics. It seems she will still be getting visits until Sunday, so these visits haven't finished as we'd expected on Friday.

Boring Football!!

I know, we've got football coming out of our ears. The World Cup is currently on in Russia. Not just on virtually every television channel known to man (stupid, it isn't but it feels like it at the moment.) You turn on the television expecting EastEnders (I don't watch it, but you know what I mean.) and the programme has been shifted to either another day or  later or earlier slot. If you don't watch, the alternative isn't exactly enticing. You can watch a second-hand episode of something else instead. Or the BBC has to celebrate the 70's birthday of the N.H.S., but rather over-does it with more or less wall-to-wall programmes. Not bad to celebrate, but it's just over-kill. You just can't avoid it, similar to how you can't avoid football.

The simple fact is, football bores me silly. I cannot see what's so exciting about 22 men running about on a piece of grass, chasing a ball and with the intention of kicking the thing into a net. It's just plain pointless. There's no sense in it at all. Similar, I suppose to cricket. Something I just don't get anything from. Maybe it was because I was never any good at either sport when I was at school (there is another blog post on this subject somewhere on here, so I may be repeating myself somewhat, but who cares?) We were made to spend hours and hours watching these wretched sports when I was at school, as well as having to play them. I was never any good, so I was virtually the last person selected when they were organising teams, so I was made to feel inferior because I wasn't any good and you can see why I have an eversion to team sports of this sort. Having to watch it on television is just as uninteresting. I suppose I can bear to watch Rugby because at least it has a sort of raw energy to it as a game, it's a contact sport and it's faster and angrier. They occasionally get covered in mud and all sorts of grime and dirt. It has a sort of Medieval battle feel about it.

I suppose the World Cup has the element of patriotism about it, 'come on England!' and all that jazz. But is it really? Unfortunately the sight of the national flag of England has connotations of the National Front and ultra-right wing politics about it. Which is unfair, I know, but I'm sure you'll agree where I'm coming from here. Those organisations who have a political agenda, usually with racist views, sadly. They use the national flag for their own use, as a sort of symbol.

There again, football does have the power to bring people together, to create bonds of friendship, which seems to be happening in Russia at the moment, which can't be a bad thing. Politics shouldn't come into sport, particularly when we have to remember what happened in Salisbury a few months back and the fact that Russia was supposed to have been behind that incident, but not actually proven.  At one point, in the lead up to the World Cup, it was suggested that we boycott the event, but fortunately it didn't come to that.

Football and Sunshine

Yesterday morning I managed to virtually complete the clearance of the brambles and weeds at the end of the garden. I did the work before it got to hot. Not a good idea to be outside in direct sunshine. There is still some more to do, but it can wait as I'm not risking going out in the blazing sun.

Carol needed to go back to the oncology department at Milton Keynes Hospital at 2.20 yesterday afternoon because they needed to check the P.I.C.C. line which was used to administer the chemotherapy. We got to the carpark and there were fortunately two or three spaces so that was one less thing to worry about. A woman came in and got in the way as we were attempting to park. Some people just don't seem to care so long as they get what they want, regardless of the other person. Never mind. It was far too hot to argue anyway. We walked into the oncology department and it was a lot cooler than outside. Not many patients. Quite a few of the chairs empty, but few staff to deal with things, as usual, so what nurses were available seemed to be doing several people's work. Carol was soon seen and went into the little room to have her line checked. She may have the line taken out, depending on what the next stage of her treatment is, and probably not until she's seen the consultant next Friday.

We walked back to the car and got out without having to use the ticket machine because the barrier was raised. All that bother to get the ticket checked and then there's no need to use it. It's so irritating that you have this constant annoyance and then the thing doesn't work properly or at all. Never mind, it's them that's loosing the cash involved if it doesn't work.

Some form of refreshment was in order, due to the heat. We drove to Oakgrove, a short drive along Chaffron Way and parked near Waitrose. We went into the nearby Costa and had cold drinks, their tasty strawberry-and-cream cooler which did the trick. It was fascinating to sit and watch people passing by as we sat inside. I can't say I was exactly over-enthusiatsit about the music they were playing in Costa's. That droning, reparative drivel that passes for modern pop music. It was awful. Why is it necessary? As we sat inside Costas we could see children walking past. It was only about 3 o'clock. They were leaving school. From the comprehensive school just over the road from Waitrose and Costa, Oakgrove School. A very different lot of children to those who attend Milton Keynes Academy. They look far neater in their dress. All wearing uniforms, with blazers with the school symbol emblazoned on them. Ties done up neatly (not just the boys, but also the girls.) Not in the least bit scruffy. Talking quietly. Amazing, but having said that, somewhat boring. I bet the behaviour is better than at the Academy. But somehow they looked mechanical, almost robotic. Too good to be true. This was going me ideas. As I'm watching the Channel Four series 'Humans' about robots or 'synths' these children do have the look and feel of synths. It could be as if they were  being controlled. Just the impression I got somehow. Think also of the Cybermen in 'Doctor Who.' Just a bit creepy. There's a story brewing in my mind . . .

I'm not in the least bit interested in football, and not bothered by the World Cup. There was a match on yesterday evening at 7 o'clock. England versus Belgium. Regardless of whether you've an interest or not there is the constant drip drip drip of football . . . football. . . football. Everywhere you go. The supermarkets are stocked up with beer, pizza, Coca Cola, and all the paraphernalia they expect people to want to buy. Nothing wrong with that. I suppose it's better than Brexit. The warm weather is adding to the excitement. Our neighbours were having a party or a barbecue. They were having guests. Quite a few cars drawing up outside the house. The time for kick-off was approaching. Carol was upstairs watching on the bedroom television. I was downstairs, completing the Futurelearn course on Shakespeare. I did watch the  England v Panama match with Carol the other afternoon, although I wasn't concentrating too closely. Just doesn't do it for me. No sense of engagement. I think they over-do the build up to such sporting events. Then afterwards the endless discussion, the dissecting of the game, the post mortem. They go on and on and on and on and on and on. Fair enough, but some of us are bored silly.

The football match wasn't exactly setting the world on fire. You would have known something was going on if there had been a goal scored. No cheers from next door, or from upstairs. It was after an hour or so that I ventured upstairs and there was a 0-0 scoreline. Carol said it was 'boring.' But looking at the screen, it looks remarkably like some sort of computer game. The grass on the pitch is too green, more like carpet. The players look like computerised graphics. If you remember the television show, which must have been one of the first things on Channel 4 when it started in 1982, called 'Max Headroom.' He was a computerised character. Well, the players look very much like him. Unrealistic looking. Tanned, with over-styled hair.  They seem to move in a sort of artificial manner to me. It looks really dull and lifeless. Why?  Loads of advertising all around the ground. What on earth is Wanda? It was being advertised at the edge of the pitch. You can't ignore the advertising. It's there, centre-stage if you like. I know the advertising is essential to the funding of these events, but it does tend to intrude. Is Wanda a person? An insurance company? A beer? A soft drink? Goodness only knows, but whatever she is, she's got a lot to answer for. The sport is being taken over by money. The players are payed in telephone numbers, for merely kicking a ball around on a piece of grass for 90 minutes. Hence the advertising. I think I may have answered my own earlier question. Too much money and if I was looking at the advertising, even if it was for a company I'd never heard of, at least I was thinking about that (which is earning money) even if it wasn't the football.

Final Chemotherapy Cycle Number Twelve

On the way out of the site at Peartree where K.F.C. was, we went into the Waitrose there as Carol wanted to get chocolates as a gift for the ontology nurses as the next chemotherapy cycle will be her last. They didn't have a particularly great selection. I know these stores in these places are small and just sort of convenience stores. Marks and Spencer have Simply Food stores at places like petrol stations, usually Shell. They're similar and sell basic items such as milk and the sort of stuff you need in an emergency, when you are on your way home and you realise you don't have milk or something for your evening meal. These service areas, on motorways and at roundabouts, as this one was at Peartree, (also right next to the park and ride carpark.) you can nip in for the odd item as you pass by on your way to the A34 or the M40.

Busy traffic on the way up the A34 and then onto the M40 until we came off on the road which goes into Buckingham. Outside Buckingham we ground to a halt. I'm not sure what caused it. I had an idea it was either a tractor or there had been an accident. Most people are decent and pleasant. They respect other road-users. As I've mentioned on several occasions I often encounter those who treat my badly, such as cut me up on roundabouts or drive too close behind. I generally drive at a safe speed. But as we were waiting in this queue of vehicles a white BMW came up close to us. He insisted in cutting in, to the right. Without so much as an 'excuse me.' Not polite. He wanted to get home presumably, to see the football match which was on that evening as part of the World Cup. He wasn't going to sit idly by and wait politely. He then over-took several cars and was then stuck behind a large H.G.V. lorry. Fortunately we lost him once we got through Buckingham and then on the open road into Milton Keynes. He kept sitting on several more vehicle's tails and as he was so close it would have been difficult to see to overtake, if he'd sat back at a distance he would have been able to see clearly what was coming in the opposite direction and so make it safe to overtake. Crazy and dangerous way to drive, not caring about other people's safety at all.

This morning (Tuesday) we had to get to the oncology department for around 9 o'clock. The carpark was virtually empty, saving some stress on the parking front. The crazy ticket machine at the barrier gave two tickets. Can't they sort these machines out? The first one was blank (don't ask me why. It defeats me, all this.) The barrier wouldn't rise, but then the machine decided to issue a second one which had print on and this time the barrier did rise.

The family of a former patient in the oncology department who died recently had requested that people at this person's funeral didn't buy wreaths or flowers but sent the money they would have spent to a fund to give to the oncology department at Milton Keynes hospital to buy a new observation machine. These machines are used by the nurses to take patients' temperatures, heart-rate, blood pressure etc etc. The person who died was shocked to find that the nurses were short of enough of these machine (not just used in the oncology department, but on all the wards. I was on a ward where the nurses used these machine to do the regular observations on not only myself but other patients during my time on this ward.) and insisted that any money after they died was spent accordingly. At lunchtime the manager of the department, nurses and doctors came into the department when a cheque for around £1600 has handed over. A fr better use for the money instead of spending it on flowers and wreaths and lining the pockets and so benefitting the staff in the oncology department and the patients.

Carol's chemotherapy was changed to a different dosage due to the fact that she is having uncomfortable feelings in her fingers. The doctor in the oncology department allowed this to be changed. At the end of her chemo on Tuesday when she has the pump set up to take home there was a delay with this pump. No doubt the pharmacy department made a mistake with it but I couldn't be sure but it delayed things by around 30 minutes at the end of the session.

Carol got to ring the hand-bell which is on the reception desk in the oncology department to denote the end of her 12 sessions of  chemotherapy. We're not certain how things will develop with her treatment but that is definitely the end that period.

Again the barrier was up when we came to leave the carpark at the end of the session in oncology. They must we loosing a lot of money with the parking ticket machines not working properly, but, let's be honest, who cares? It's still wrong to get patients and their friends and families to pay when they visit an N.H.S. hospital.

Outing To Wrest Park

Yet again we had decent weather. It was far too good to sit around indoors. The thought of daytime television was enough to make you want to get out and with endless stupid football on every channel, even remotely connected with the World Cup, we spent some time deciding where to go. As we have membership of three organisations which allow free entry to places such as houses, castles and gardens, we were somewhat spoilt for choice, for example, the National Trust, English Heritage and H.H.A. (Historic Houses Association). Neither did we want to have to drive too far. You are supposed to be no more than 20 minutes from a National Trust property. Probably right if you include Stowe Landscape Garden (probably pushing it a bit. Probably 35-40 minutes), Ascott (maybe just over 20 minutes.). In the end we chose Wrest Park, which is off the A6 between Bedford and Luton. We have visited a couple of times in the past. it's around a 45 minute drive from Milton Keynes. They've had a large Heritage Lottery grant to restore the garden and they have a fairly new visitor centre with shop, restaurant and toilets as well as an up-graded carpark made out of, presumably, one of the walled gardens.

When we drove in (having found it quite difficult to find the road in at the centre of Silsoe. I think they've changed the signage somewhat off the A6.) there were coaches arriving. A similar situation to when we drove in at Waterperry on Wednesday morning.

We went into the restaurant, which was filling up with those people who had just arrived by coach. There was quite a long queue at the counter but Carol was determined to get us something to eat and drink after our journey. We had scones and jam and lattes and she bought some sandwiches and crisps which we took so we had something to eat once we began our walk around the grounds. Then we went into the gift shop (what National Trust or English Heritage property doesn't have a shop? Your visit always begins or ends in a gift shop. Even at Whipsnade the shop seems to loom large. Supposedly a good sauce of income for these places which are charities.) As we got to the ticket desk we were told that, as we were within the first 300 visitors that day, we would each receive a pot-plant. Quite a surprise. So we decided to take these plants back to put in the car as we didn't fancy carrying them around with us all morning. Besides which, it's unlikely they would have survived being carted around in a bag of some sort.

We went into the house. We have been inside before. The rooms are amazing, but there's no furniture. It used to be offices. something to do with agriculture. The National Agricultural Research Institute or something. There used to be an agricultural college in Silsoe at one time, part of Bedford College, but it would appear that it has gone and is now a housing estate.

There's no furniture in any of the rooms, which is a pity. The rooms are vast. Lots of carving, gold leaf and some of the ceilings are painted. Quit spectacular, as they are in a lot of these large country houses. It would be great if they could return as much as possible to make sure the place at least looks lived-in. But no doubt it was all sold off at some point in the house's long history, due to such things as debt or having to pay Death Duties. If it comes to that, it makes you wonder how close these houses came to being demolished, due to the cost of maintenance or the land being sold off for housing or other uses.

Statue and planting in garden at 

Wrest Park

The house from the garden at Wrest Park

We went outside and down towards the lake or Long Water. There were several marquees and tented structures all along the side of the grassed area. One where you could join a guided tour around the gardens with a driver who talked about how the gardens were developed and built. We had to wait around half-an-hour before the next tour began, but we were glad that we did as it was a really interesting tour around, stopping at various points where he explained how certain things were as they were, their history and so on. Considering the size of the gardens at Wrest, this seems a good way to get around. Many of these properties have some sort of transport to get visitors around, but usually they're for people who have some sort of mobility problem. At Stowe they have a sort of train that goes from the visitor's centre, where you park your car and buy your tickets, and there's a restaurant and shop. It's quite a long walk to the entrance of the garden, so a ride on some sort of motorised train is ideal. At Waddesdon Manor you park your car some way from the Manor and then get on a bus up to the Manor. We managed to get round Wrest Park instead of walking. It's a long way from the house up as far as the Archer Pavilion which you can see from the terrace and at the end of the Long Water.

View from terrace towards the

Archer Pavilion at Wrest Park.

When we were delivered back to the point where we began the guided tour, we left to discover an area we'd never been in before when we've been to Wrest on previous visits. There's a vast expanse of more naturalised garden, with a lake, bridge and a sort of Chinese pagoda which we've never seen before.

We eventually found a bench where we could sit and eat our sandwiches. I think we were in need of refreshment by this point. From there we gradually walked back towards the house and had a browse in the shop and then walked back to the carpark to drive home.