Things That Have Disappeared

Now, it's one of those mysteries. What, you may ask? Well, I was driving through the countryside the other morning and was aware of the passing scenery, as you do. I was fully aware of the other traffic, making sure I kept the car on the road, not too close to the vehicle in front, keeping to the speed limit and making sure I was going in the right direction to my destination. As I glanced around, it suddenly occurred to me, what ever happened to . . . . telegraph poles? What is odd, in this day and age, do we have such things as telegraphs? Do they refer to telegrams? What on earth, it has suddenly struck me, do, or did, (is that grammatical I wonder?) a telegraph pole actually DO? Are they (or were they?) support the cables that transmit telephone calls? So, why do I not see any as I drive about the countryside? If not, how do telephone calls get from A too B? Are the cables that once, long ago, were strung along these poles, now hidden underground, perhaps? Or are the signals that are transmitted sent by radio waves, digitally sent via some sort of dish-arrangement, rather like a Sky satellite dish? Can someone answer me this question then, what has happened to telegraph or telephone poles and how are telephone messages (and, no doubt, the internet) sent if there are no visible cables?

If there's no telegraph/telephone poles, what else do we not longer have which we once had, particularly when I was considerably younger? How about such things as level crossings? I mean, the old fashioned sort, with proper gates which are manually operated by a man who operates them from a little signal box. They used to have lights on them, so they could be seen at night. I don't mean those half-hearted excuses for 'barriers' that replaced them years ago, that only cover part of the width of the road. Sort of, vaguely, dare I say it,'continental-style'? When we used to go on holiday to Frinton-On-Sea, on the Essex coast when I was a child, you used to enter Frinton from the 'outside world,' through such level-crossing gates. Into an almost enchanteted world. I haven't visited Frinton in decades, so I don't know whether those level-crossing gates have been replaced by the 'modern' style barriers. It wouldn't be the same if they had. I'm not even sure whether there is a railway station at Frinton, necessitating the need for a level crossing.

Telephone boxes. You never see them these days. The traditional red variety. Is it because everyone has a mobile phone and has no need for the use of such a thing as a telephone box. The sort with the 'press button 'B.'' I can't remember when I last saw one.

Policemen on 'The Beat.' I mean a Police Constable actually seen walking the local pavements. Someone you can trust if there's a problem. A sort of deterrent if there's something likely to become a criminal act or is against the law. I used to live in a village where there was a local Bobby and if you were caught riding your bicycle on a footpath you would be stopped by the PC and told to get off and push your bicycle or at least ride it on the road.  There was a sense of community, people knew right from wrong (well, I suppose they did.) and a police officer being on hand gave you s sense of safety. But not anymore. You never see a policeman, except if they're driving past in a car.

One thing that definitely disappeared and that's manners. Why do some people insist on driving close behind me when I'm driving. Just because I'm not going at top speed and why do some people cut you up on roundabouts? I refuse to drive outside my safe zone. Then there's mobile phones. I have mentioned this before, but why on earth do people insist on having them permanently fixed to their hands? There's nothing more bad mannered than being in a situation where you meet someone, say, in a Costas or Starbucks, and the other person is constantly looking at their mobile, or they're texting. Really rude. It makes you wonder what people used to do before mobile phones and what would happen if these things disappeared. These things are as they are because, with, for example, the internet, you can make a rather nasty comment about someone and you aren't ever likely to meet them face to face. The same with driving. A motorist can cut you up on a runabout or tailgate you or whatever, but they're never likely to meet you in a face-to-face situation. It's rather a cowardly way to behave. People seem to think they're separated from the rest of society, sitting in their room on their laptop or mobile phone, Tweeting, posting things on Facebook or whatever, in a sort of bubble. It seems that's the way a lot of people spend their lives, isolated, separated. Rather a sad sort of world we've created.

Postmen. I know they're out there somewhere, but if so, I don't see many. On bicycles? I doubt it. Most come in little red vans. Some I see walking along with wheeled barrow things with the mail in. I presume they can take far more mail if they have these wheeled things. One thing I do know, they seem to deliver at almost any time imaginable, We've even had a delivery at 4.30 in the afternoon. I can't imagine it would be safe carrying a heavy load of mail on a bicycle because you'd have to strap the bag on somewhere on the bicycle. I can't imagine having to go out in the early morning, when it's dark and probably cold and wet and in snow and ice. I feel sorry for those people who do these sorts of jobs, the jobs we take for granted. We all expect our mail delivered on time and to be correct, although that isn't always the case as we often get the odd letter or even parcel which is delivered through our door but isn't actually addressed to us. The postman isn't looking at the address properly. I suppose if they have temporary staff on, particularly during the run-up to Christmas, those staff can't know all the little unknown places that a regular postman would know, or even get the mail posted through the correct door. 

More Confusion Over Surgery

(Saturday) I took Alfie out at around 7.45 this morning. It was quite overcast and there was a damp feeling in the air. It was definitely attempting to rain, but not quite making it. As we got to the grassy area where I let him off his lead, I opened my mobile to text Carol and she'd sent me a text to say she had been told late last night that she was going for surgery in the morning and she couldn't eat anything, 'nil by mouth,' as they say. I was a bit confused, as you can imagine, because yesterday we were told that there was no abscess and that surgery wasn't required to drain it. So, what has changed since? I got home and rang the ward to be told that they were waiting to hear from the surgery team what the situation was. At that time there was no idea of when or even if the operation was going ahead and they now have my mobile number to call me when they have news. There is no point me going in to the ward if Carol isn't there and I've now spoken to her and even she's as confused about the turn of events. So I'll wait until the ward calls me before venturing in, probably at lunch time.

Later. Been texting Carol. It's now gone 11 o'clock and we're no clearer as to whether she's going to theatre or not. Just seems a really confusing time. I want to go to Waitrose but I can't really leave the house until I know exactly what's going on.

Later still. Carol texted me again and the surgery isn't happening. Why are we in this situation? It's the same as yesterday. I decided to drive to Waitrose as planned. I bought some ready individual meals (or individual ready meals. Which is it? I don't know. Which sounds better?) It was raining quite hard as I drove into their carpark. Coming down the slope into the carpark near Metro Bank, you have to be careful how you negotiate the rather difficult turn at the bottom as they've put a sort of yellow sign in the way and if you weren't careful you'd hit it. I think all this is intended to put of anyone who has thoughts of ram-raiding the Metro Bank, which has happened in the past. I don't suppose anyone thought that they have made things easy for those of a criminal mind, because at night nobody would see what was going on near the bank branch or even any of the retail outlets near Waitrose because you can't see anything from Chaffron Way, which is fairly high up on a sort of embankment, unless you happened to live in one of the flats or the houses which are adjacent to the Waitrose carpark.

After I purchased my bits and pieces and stowed them in the car, I returned to avail myself of the café within Waitrose. You used to get your drink free if you ordered food, but apparently no longer. It took the woman in the queue in front of me a long time to decide what she wanted to eat and drink. Why is it some people are so indecisive? I took a  cheese and ham toastie off the display to have heated and also selected a rather nice-looking cake from the display as well as ordered a latte. It seemed to take a long time for my toast to appear, toasted. How long should it take? How long is a piece of string? I drank most of my latte and the cherry slice sat on it's plate, enticingly. But I wasn't eating it until I'd eaten the toasty. The waitress who delivered food to customer's tables came and went, delivering food to several seated customers. But not mine. How much longer was it going to take? It did arrive eventually and it was worth waiting for and so was the cherry slice. 

Even More Irritations of Life

Why do supermarkets have to keep moving their stock around their stores? I don't mean by putting it in trolleys and shifting it manually. I mean, when you, as a customer, get used to finding a particular product in the same place week after week, and then, for no accountable reason, they move it to entirely different aisle and shelf. This usually happens before Christmas, Easter, Valentine's Day, Mothering Sunday or any of the other 'festivals' or 'holidays' throughout the year. They seem to think it's fine to fill the shelves with stuff you can perfectly well do without, such as mince pies, Christmas puddings, crackers and so on, and whatever product you wanted is suddenly shifted to a remote corner without any warning.

Poor customer service is another irritation I can't stand. When I was at Milton Keynes hospital on Sunday I went to the branch of Costa they have in the newly refurbished entrance foyer (if that's the right term. I know hotels and theatres have foyers, so what is the entrance of a hospital called? Is there a correct word? Probably is, but I'm not sure what it is.) The queue was coming out of the door and into the corridor. I had to wait about 20 minutes before I could get served. A woman in front was fiddling with her mobile phone. What is it with people? Why is everyone so hooked on their mobile phones? Constantly peering at the little screens, looking at Facebook or Twitter, checking to see if someone has contacted them. Anyway, by the time I got to the till I had almost lost the will to live. I had taken a panini out of the display cabinet at the beginning of the queue and handed it to the girl at the till and paid for that as well as two drinks, I think they were lattes, but I forget now. Anyway, the girl I handed the panini to was going to heat it for me. Is that a microwave that heats the food or is it some other sort of oven? Whatever it was it did it's job efficiently and quickly. I had said I wanted to take the food away with me, but the girl put it on a plate. She had such a look on her face, it was as if I'd made some rude suggestion to her. More likely she didn't want to be working there, and particularly not on a Sunday. It wasn't so much the scowl on her face, but the fact that she hadn't listened to me when I'd said I wanted to take away the food I had ordered. THAT was the irritating part of this whole incident. She had such a look on her face, as I say, no doubt because she had drawn the short straw of having to work her shift on a Sunday. And who can blame her? Just didn't make for a very pleasant customer experience as far as I was concerned. Anyway, she made some sort of effort to place the two pieces of panini she had cut so nicely on a chopping board into a cleverly-designed cardboard container and handed it to me and I was able to walk back to the ward and devour the food and share the lattes with Carol. Just another of life's little irritations, when things should be better but aren't. Staff in such places can make all the difference to your experience, particularly at the checkout in the supermarket. If they scowl at you, as that young lady did in Costa, it can be a rather negative experience and put you off shopping there at a later date.

Better Together Campaign

Last Sunday Milton Keynes Christian Centre began a campaign called "Better Together." It's actually based on Rick Warren's campaign. He's an American pastor at Saddleback Church in California. It's aimed at getting church out into the community. Each Sunday for six weeks we'll have a message from one of the Elders which is the basis for a weekly small group in homes all over Milton Keynes. I signed up on the first Sunday, with the intention of eventually having my own Life Group (called 'Cells' or 'House Groups' in other churches. They meet once a week, or sometimes monthly or bi-monthly, to do Bible studies and usually connected to what we've heard in church the previous Sunday. A good way to build fellowship with other Christians.) Unfortunately most of these groups are in the evening, usually starting at 7-7.30 p.m. As Carol and I get up at around 6 a.m. each morning, and Carol finishes work at 4.45 each evening, it is very difficult, if not totally impossible, to get to one of these groups. I'm generally unwinding and wouldn't manage to stay awake for a 2-hour session, what with my heart condition as well as the effects my medication has on me. So this was a good opportunity to set up a day-time course of some sort, to hopefully attract other retired people, or, at least, those who do shift work and can't possibly get to a Life Group due to work commitments. I'd signed up to run mine mid-week, on a Wednesday, and beginning at 2.30. The Better Together campaign uses video messages, recorded by Rick Warren, and members of the group can follow using a book, similar in some ways to the Alpha Course, which we had running at M.K.C.C.C. last September (in actual fact, I've now done the course twice at M.K.C.C., first time round as a helper, setting up the evening, and dismantling, and the second time, last year, as a participant. But I have done the course several times before, a couple of times at Rutland Road Church in Bedford, and once at Brickhill Baptist Church.)

I wasn't sure whether I was going to get anyone to join a group. I wasn't really that sure whether there was any demand for a group to be run during the day. I then had an email from church informing me that a lady called Maria had signed up. I then attempted to contact her, just to let her know I'd received her inquiry. It took some while before I get a response. I had emailed and got nothing back and then I sent a text message. Some people had this technology, computers, smartphones etc etc and are on them constantly. Then there are those who have them, sign up to have email, text etc etc but hardly use them. They don't check their emails or text messages regularly. I know that some people are addicted to these things. You see it out on the street, some people who don't communicate with the world around them, constantly looking at their mobiles. Obsessive-Compulsive in some cases. Sad, really. But there again, the technology has it's uses.

Anyway, after a few days I decided to ring Maria's phone number. I didn't get a response. not even a voicemail service, so I couldn't even leave a recorded message. There again, it's no use having this technology if you don't listen to it. So I had to leave things for a little longer. It was beginning to get closer to the day (yesterday) when the course was going to begin. I had been given the DVD with all the video talks on it as well as the book which goes with the course. Because I was hosting the course in my home I wasn't expected to pay for the materials.

I decided to have another go at phoning Maria. On this occasion she did answer, thank goodness. She had to pass the call over to her husband, Ted so he could write down my address. So, at least that was set up and I didn't have to concern myself with non-communication.

I had a second prospective attendee. I had their name and mobile number in an email from church, but when I called she didn't realise the starting-time of the group was during the day, so she couldn't come along, unfortunately. There is, of course, a good chance that more people might join, but it would have to be within the first couple of weeks, otherwise they wouldn't be able to catch up with the video talks.

Yesterday I got myself all ready for the first session at 2.30. I had cleaned the lounge, got some biscuits in for refreshment and got the kettle filled and ready. It got closer and closer to the time. If I'd been going to someone's house for the first time I would have got there a good ten minutes before the time the session was due to begin. 2.30 came and went. I thought, 'she's not going to come now.' Then it was 2.40 or there about and then Josh, from M.K.C.C. (It was him who gave me the lift to Sainsbury's a month or so ago when our car broke down, you might remember, if you read these posts on a regular basis.) He said that he had Maria and her husband there at church. They had got to my door and were knocking, but I wasn't answering. Well, they couldn't have done, because if they had, I would have seen them. I had been standing in the kitchen, looking out of the window, and no car had drawn outside and no one had got out and certainly hadn't knocked on the door. If I had seen them and they'd been there, I would obviously have let them in. It turned out that they'd been knocking on the wrong door, another house entirely, further along the road! I couldn't believe it. He asked for my house number, so I gave it (which I clearly gave to them when they'd rung a few days previously.) Josh said that they'd be with me in about 15 minutes.

So they turned up and parked on the drive at the front of the house. Maria was initially set to attend the session on her own, but Ted, her husband, came in and we ran through the session together, so I hope they are both able to come for the next five weeks of the course. Unfortunately, because they had been around 20 minutes late, we didn't manage to get through all the questions in the book, but at least we managed to run the two videos on the DVD. My television set has a built-in DVD player and we had a problem getting the videos to run as we wanted. It was difficult finding the first session on the disc, but we eventually got it running correctly after a few false starts.

I had to keep Alfie, our Yorkie, in the kitchen. It was clear that Maria wasn't that fond of dogs, and I would never expect to have him in with us as we did the course. Unfortunately Alfie doesn't like being shut in on his own, perhaps even more since Poppy has died. He kept scratching on the door, so I gave in and let him in. He becomes very determined to get attention and can manipulate you to get what he wants. So he sat with us, mostly sitting on Ted's knee. Not what I would have wanted, but it was far better than him constantly scratching on the door and doing more damage to the paintwork and apart from anything else, making it quite difficult to concentrate on the video talks.

So, all in all a positive afternoon and I hope it builds over the next few weeks. Keep watching my blog posts for further details as the weeks progress.

Fixing the Car Door and Enabling Mobile Top-Up

I've been back to O.K. Garage this morning. The speed that traffic has been moving is making me feel quite unsafe. The people at the garage were talking about this matter, saying that there should be a lower speed limit on the grid roads around Milton Keynes. So, it's not just me thinking that drivers around here have become excessively aggressive. The mechanics have had a really difficult job trying to find where the thing is in the car that controls the car. I waited in their reception area for around an hour and a half and was eventually told that this 'thing' that controls the sliding doors and which is, presumably, playing up and preventing the driver's side door from working properly, is actually INSIDE THE DOOR!!! I can't believe it. It took most of yesterday and near enough two hours this morning to discover this. I would have thought there would be some sort of diagram somewhere or other, probably on a website, which would show the electrical circuitry for the car. There is, but apparently it doesn't show this electrical thingemy. The garage will let me know when they've managed to track down a replacement so that it can be fitted, but it means we have to drive around for a little bit longer with the door still not working properly. It's beginning to become somewhat annoying and wearing having to use brute force to open and close the door and sometimes having to contend with the alarm going on to tell us that the door isn't closed properly.

The other problem has been not being able to top up my mobile, using the 02 code which I bought in One Stop in Garraways. I decided the only solution was to go into the actual 02 shop in the Central Shopping Centre in Milton Keynes. I wasn't exactly over-enamoured of the idea as it was pouring with rain, and, having just spend so long at the garage I wasn't actually in the right frame of mind to be walking around inside the centre. But I was eager to sort out this problem. So I drove into the centre and parked where I usually do near The Point. It's becoming more and more dilapidated and really needs demolishing. As I've mentioned before, it seems awful that such an iconic building should be allowed to get into such a state of decay. How come nobody has been able to take the site over and refurbish it? It has 'For Sale' signs all over it and no doubt it will eventually be sold and the site cleared for more shops and offices. 

I walked into the centre and reached the 02 shop and explained my problem. I was told they could do nothing, the assistant attempted to top the mobile up with the code on the voucher I'd bought in One Stop. It still would not work. I'm beginning to get heartily sick of the woman's voice you have to listen to who tells you how to top the thing up. I bought a sandwich and drink in Boots and then left to return to the car and drove to Galloways in Coffee Hall. I had to queue at the till and eventually got the assistant to try the top-up once more, but no joy. I don't think she had much idea how to resolve the problem but decided to give me the benefit of the doubt and gave me a fresh voucher. I went home and tried it. Thankfully it worked. So the old voucher must have been wrong, but I can't see how, as these voucher codes must be randomly generated. I'm just glad that it now works and I have my £10 credit on the mobile.

Annoying Top-Up

We both have mobile phones which require top-up. We don't see the point of being on a contract as we don't use our mobiles that often. We have them so we can text each other, the idea being that I get a text message to let me know when Carol's leaving work for home. My phone is a smartphone and it's a Samsung but I'm not over-pleased with it. Just fiddly to operate. I'm on a 'bundle' which means I spend £10 a month and get so many texts and calls together with data (to use for internet, which I rarely use as I find it more trouble than it's worth. Just too fiddly. I'd rather use the MacBook which has a decent keyboard than ever try to use the stupid keyboard which is on the mobile.)

I went to buy credit at the shop in Garroways, in Coffee Hall. Together with top-up credit for electricity and gas (we use a key for electricity and a smart card for gas, so we don't have a bill for each.) I bought two mobile top-up vouchers, Carols' mobile is on EE, and mine is on 02. I got home and then had the fun of trying to put the credit on my mobile. It just wouldn't work. You have to phone a number and then listen to the annoying voice and THEN try to put the voucher number in, a 16-number code. It just wouldn't work. I attempted to ring the number and use that, but still no joy. I even attempted to use my debit card, but even that wouldn't work. I don't know how many attempts I've had at this, but it must be around a dozen. I now think there must be something wrong with the 02 site, their software is faulty or something. I may attempt to do this later this evening, but currently it's causing more stress than anything else.

Remembering Louis Fussell- Part 3

Rutland Road, in which Louis Fussell lived in Bedford, and where I lived for around 4 years in the early 2000's, is off Midland Road. It's become very run down over the years. The road is in a sort of 'loop' which consists of Rutland Road, Gibbons Road and Grafton Road. It's sort of cut off from the rest of the roads around the area. It's one-way for traffic, coming in from the roundabout on Midland Road and Prebend Street. There is a bridge that links into Queen's Park and traffic filters in to the roundabout. This can be very difficult if you are driving over the bridge at peak times of the day and I can verify this as I had to drive a minibus when I was working as a carer and collected people from the day centre at the Westbourne Centre deep at the back of Queen's Park and this was always at the busiest time of day and coming out over the bridge could be very slow as the traffic built up back into Ford End Road. 

I had a job in a care home in Everton at the beginning of the 2000's and I used to do early shifts there and I had to start at 7 a.m. if I was on an early. It took me a good half-hour to drive to Everton, driving out of Bedford along Cardington Road  towards Willington and then crossing the A1 at Biggleswade. One particular morning I was caught in the one-way system of Rutland/Gibbons and Grafton Roads. It was the morning the dustbin men were out doing their rounds. I got to Grafton Road and I could see the dustcart ahead of me, blocking the entire road. Those roads weren't really designed for modern traffic. None of the houses had garages or driveways, so the residents had to park on the road outside, or as near outside, their homes as possible. This meant that, with cars parked on both sides of the road there was only a relatively narrow 'lane' to drive along in the centre. With a very large Bedford Council dustcart in the centre there was absolutely nowhere for me to pass. And the workmen who were busy moving wheely bins away from their parking spaces near the houses along the street, to be put on the lift on the rear of the dustcart and then be lifted up and tipped into the back of the wagon. They steadfastly refused to budge an inch, and time was ticking by as I had a half-hour journey to work ahead of me. I just had to wait. And they knew full well I was being held up. Well, they did eventually move out of my way, and I did manage to drive out of Bedford and, as far as I remember, I wasn't late for work either. Just as well there wasn't much traffic on the roads at that early hour.

Louis Fussell was something of a penny-pincher. There's nothing wrong with being careful of your money, of course. He seemed to have a problem with mobile phones. I can understand his generation having a problem with them. I don't think he would understand the obsession with this technology. I have mentioned my concerns with these gadgets, how some people seem constantly to be glued to their smartphones, how you see people walking along the street with their eyes glued to the little screens, either texting or looking at something such as Facebook. I don't think Facebook had started at the time I lived in Rutland Road. I think Louis concern was the cost of running a mobile. He didn't like using the thing. I'm sure he didn't have one of his own. I can't imagine him wanting one. Considering how many miles he rode on his bicycle (see earlier posts on this subject.) I can imagine that a mobile phone would have come in handy had he needed to phone for assistance if he had an accident or at least as a safety support measure. 

I have mentioned elsewhere about how Louis had paying 'guests' living in his home. Myself being one of them. He was never concerned about references. As long as you paid your rent he wasn't bothered. Thinking about it now, I think he was opening him self up to all sorts of problems and dangers. But I don't think he was too concerned, as he ought to have been. When I first lived there he had two young men living in the house. One at the front and the other at the back. One of them absconded, without paying his rent. I'm not sure exactly, I imagine he had back-rent to pay or something. I think he worked for a company between Bedford and Ampthill, I believe based at Houghton Conquest, but I'm not sure. Louis had no car for his own transport and went everywhere by bicycle. He found out where this young man worked (don't ask me how.) and went all the way to his employer's headquarters to try and track him down so as to get the owed money. It seemed to take him a considerable amount of time and effort but he did get the cash eventually. I think perhaps his employers made the young man pay it off directly from his wages, so much a month or something.

Another time he had a problem with his phone bill. He seemed to spend an extremely long time sitting on the telephone in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, sitting on a chair, waiting. No doubt it was to get through to a callcentre or something. I think he was attempting to change his telephone provider and I expect it took an extremely long time for him to get through to the call centre. I can relate to this, as we had a similar problem when we finished with TalkTalk. We had a landline telephone as well as the internet. No, I don't think Louis would ever have broadband internet. Modern technology was far too much for him to understand. Not just understand, but to deal with such things as email, social media etc etc.

As mentioned in my earlier blog posts, Louis was a violin-maker, viola player (in a local orchestra) and wrote music. He wrote several symphonies, as well as other styles of orchestral music. These works were written on reams of paper, although someone transcribed his scores to a computer software system called 'Sibelius,' for which he paid. If he had only learnt to use a computer and then the software he might have saved himself a considerable amount of money. Then he would lay the scores on the floor and go through it all to make any corrections, no doubt in much the same way that an author goes through the manuscript of a novel or other work and editing out any mistakes.

There was one young man who came to live in the house. He had the front bedroom. He was French, and seemed somewhat lost. I'm not sure if he wasn't entirely 100%. He was convinced that his girlfriend was going to come and live with him in the house. Her name was Tina. He kept on and on about her. I can't remember where he worked. Probably for a tempt agency, as I had done for a while. No doubt in some warehouse, picking and packing, unloading lorries or similar. There are a number of such places in and around Bedford, such as Debenham's, Argos etc etc. Talk of 'Tina' seemed endless. He kept ringing this elusive female, but she seemed to be playing all sorts of evasive games with him, to such an extent that it seemed obvious that she had no intention of joining him. At last, after months and months, it appeared that he had found a suitable flat for them to live in, I believe on the other side of Bedford, in either Putnoe or Goldington. Then he began moving stuff across town. But he had no vehicle, neither a van or a car. He had, you won't believe this, a shopping trolley! Now, it must be a good four or five miles to Goldington, and would take perhaps ten minutes to get there by car. He put his belongings into this shopping trolley and pushed it there and must have unloaded it and then walked all the way back to Rutland Road for another load! This was on a Saturday, because I recall seeing him in the centre of town with the shopping trolley, and on one occasion he had the basic carcase of a chest of  drawers in  the thing, and a few house later he'd piled the drawers in the trolley, complete with clothes, all thrown in in a huge pile! I don't think 'Tina' ever appeared and I have no idea whether  he actually went to live in the flat on his own.

Hospital Appointment For Carol

Carol had to go for a hospital appointment this morning. She went into the Academy as usual, but walked home at around 10.45. The actual appointment was 11.30. As the hospital is so close, there was really no point driving, because we'd only have to pay to use the hospital car park, and it would be quicker to walk, what with traffic. It's no more than a ten minute walk there, along the Redway behind our house and then straight through to the path that runs beside the road. The only problem was that it was threatening to rain, a miserable undecided sort of day on the weather-front, overcast and cold.

We had to walk around the front of the hospital complex, to the Maple Centre, which is near the entrance for Accident and Emergency. In through the front entrance and we were inside a typical N.H.S. unit. Why do they always have that air of depression, the same rather strong smell, clean, but unpleasant? Is it the cleaning material they use, or what is it? Over-clean, I think. Obsessively so. It's difficult to see immediately where you have to go. So many signs, go here, co there. Reception desk, do you sign in or not? I would have come with Carol anyway, but in the letter she had for the appointment, it said that she needed to bring someone with her as they would put drops in her eyes as part of the procedure and she wouldn't be safe to drive afterwards and, as a result, also have a pair of dark glasses as her eyes would be sensitive to bright light. At the reception desk Carol gives the woman behind the counter the letter she was sent and the information is put in the computer. Signed in and told to sit and wait. We go and sit in the Yellow Bay. A lot of old people sitting and waiting. It's even more depressing. Nobody talks. Nobody wants to give anyone eye contact. Which is ironic, when you think it's the eye clinic. Carol is here because she's recently been diagnosed as diabetic and they have to check your eyes to prevent eye problems which might result. The place is decorated white, cold, typically N.H.S., standard paintwork. Why can't it be done in more bright and colourful colours? Surely it wouldn't cost anymore. As people walk about the floor seems to move. It's got a strange sort of movement, as if the place is built on springs or something. Why is it like that? The Carol gets called to go in to her appointment. I make notes in my notebook I try to take with me everywhere. This is a good place to study characters, people's behaviours. A woman comes in with a baby in a stroller. I'm not actually sure what you call these things- stroller, buggy, baby-carrier. Anyway, a complicated machine with wheels, lots of levers and handles and the actual bit into which the baby is inserted, padded and comfortable, with straps and looking to me like a sort of coal scuttle. I think it disconnects so it can be put into a car, with the baby safe within it. Then a second lady arrives, and it turns out she is the sister of the other lady with a baby. Why are they here? Is it her appointment, or the babies? Difficult to know.

The Carol calls to me from another waiting area. Green Bay. She says, come in here and sit with me. She has to wait for 20 minutes for the drops she has had put in her eyes to take effect. Green Bay is even more depressing than Yellow Bay. I don't see how you differentiate between the coloured bays, but Carol says it's the door-frames, painted different colours. The green paint in Green Bay is rather insipid, not a proper green to my way of thinking. The place has posters all over the walls, rather too many for my liking. Don't do this, don't do that, information over-kill. They tell you that, if you use a mobile phone, to respect other patients privacy. As if you'd ever not. But I suppose some people have no idea about 'respect.' Probably use their mobile to take a 'selfie'. As if you'd want to in a hospital. There's free wifi, so presumably it's alright to use a mobile. I was always under the impression you weren't supposed to use your mobile at all in a hospital. Something about the radio signals they use interfering with the computers and other equipment. But there is no evidence that this is true.

It's so gloomy. Nobody wants to talk to you. People being lead about, rather like the blind leading the blind. More deep irony. We just want to have a laugh. Why are the people in here so miserable? I know, a hospital isn't a particularly laugh-out-loud sort of place, and especially a department like this.  But please, just lighten up. I think I'd go completely nuts if I couldn't have a laugh. So many old people, just looking miserable, is enough to drive you completely doo-lalley. There's not even a television to watch or a coffee machine. Nothing to while away the time.  A pile of ancient magazines, most more or less past their best before day, if they ever had one in the first place. Can't the N.H.S. employ a stand-up comedian to get people to at least SMILE? laughter- supposedly the best form of medicine. Then Carol gets called back into the room to have a chat with the clinician or whatever he's called about her eyes. They take photographs of her eyes, which is why they put the drops into her eyes so that your pupils dilate which makes taking the photographs easier. I had this done when I had my eyes tested the other week.

Which reminds me, also on an eye-related matter. I have been to SpecSavers, on Wednesday, in Milton Keynes Shopping Centre, to have the prescription I got when I had my eyes tested the other week, and I'm having two pairs of glasses made up, for £69 (a really good offer.) One pair will be for distance work (for example, driving, watching television etc.) and another pair for reading, using the computer etc, more close work.) These will be ready next Wednesday.

So, having been back in to chat with the clinician, she comes back out and we leave. It's a matter of finding your way out into the hospital campus and trying to decipher the various conflicting notices, some saying 'Exit' and 'Way Out.' It's bright sunshine when we get outside and Carol puts on the dark glasses she bought with her. We stroll back home through the hospital grounds and back into Eaglestone and along the Redway and home. 

Youth and Modern Technology

I had to drive to the shop in Garraways, which is in  Coffee Hall, the next grid square to Eaglestone, to buy a stamp at the Post Office which is within the 'One-Stop' shop. I followed this youth in who wore these enormous headphones over his ears. Do youths realise how ridiculous they look walking around with such things on their ears? I thought you could get really neat 'ear-buds,' which you use with your iPod or other M.P.3 player which don't look so obtrusive. I should know, as I have my own iPod, although not the latest model.  I don't use it much. But I don't walk around with it on. What worries me most about walking around with those things over your ears, how do they hear what's going on around them? There's the possibility of not hearing a vehicle coming when you cross the road and getting run over. Even worse, is seeing a youth riding around on a bicycle with those things on his ears. Not just the danger of not hearing traffic, but the possibility of getting the cable caught in the workings of the bicycle they are riding, the chain mechanism, the handlebars or whatever. Then I was shocked to discover that the price of a first-class stamp is 63p. We very rarely have a need for postage stamps. We use email a lot, but this was to stick on the envelope of a Father's Day card for Carol's dad. It has to get to Bournemouth before next Sunday which is Father's Day.

It's not just headphones that are a danger. How many people have I seen who walk around whilst they are fiddling with their mobile phone? Texting or doing something or other as they walk along, and most certainly not aware of the world around them. The distinct possibility of not concentrating on the world around them, stepping off the kerb and into the path of a vehicle and getting knocked over. How ridiculous is that? Worse still, people having conversations on their mobile phone while at the same time DRIVING THEIR CAR! it's illegal, but people still do it. When we were driving up the M1 the other week we came across this lorry which we tried to pass. It was weaving all over the place, in the middle lane, but it didn't seem safe to overtake. When we eventually drove past it was clear that the driver was texting on his mobile. How on earth can you possibly think it's safe to do such a thing? One small slip and you'd cause a very nasty pile-up. Can't people wait until they are stationary before using their mobiles? It's a pity that the Police don't catch these people before they cause mayhem.

Lack of Manners

When I was growing up we were expected to have manners in regards behaviour. One was that whenever an adult came into the room you stood up. You certainly didn't talk until spoken to, you never argued with your parents or other adults and if you were travelling on public transport, such as a bus or train, you'd give up your seat for an adult and in particular a lady. Where have manners gone? Out of the window it seems in most cases. I'm  not suggesting for one moment that everyone has bad manners, but it seems that quite a few people  I meet and very much in particular, young people, manners seem to have gone out of the window. I have mentioned the 'tail-gating' incidents that I've encountered whilst driving around Milton Keynes, whereby some drivers insist on driving right up behind you and attempting to get you to go faster or just get out of the way for you. On the odd occasion I've been cut up on roundabouts, where driver cut in front of you to get through faster. I have been run into because it seems I haven't moved onto a roundabout fast enough, which can be quite scary, particularly when you are waiting at a very busy roundabout and at times of heavy traffic. This can be worst when you can't see the traffic coming round and would be helped if there was a clearer view with the removal of trees and bushes on the centre of the roundabout. Some people can get very aerated if you don't do what they want you to and you often get someone waving their fists at you or hooting their horns. All it does is increase your blood pressure and your own. Stupid really. Sometimes I'm walking along the Redway around  Milton Keynes and you encounter someone on a bicycle. They should slow down or even stop if they meet pedestrians. They seem to think you'll immediately get out of the way for them. Or at least slow down, because I don't fancy being run into by a bicycle travelling at speed. Also, cyclists riding on pavements. I was always lead to believe that pavements were meant for pedestrians and roads and cycleways were for cyclists, or perhaps I got it wrong.

Carol tells me about the children she teaches. Some talk over her when she's attempting to teach, others can be just downright obnoxious. They drop litter. When challenged, they answer 'I didn't do it.' or 'someone else can pick it up.' Surprises me, because I was under the impression that today's children were conscious of the environment and the damage litter can do.

One of the worst offences I come across is when you are in conversation with someone and they get their mobile out, perhaps to answer it, either a text or a call, and then continue a conversation on the mobile as if you weren't there. Worse still, texting and completely ignoring you. Please, just say, 'excuse me' before answering a call or text message. Can't a call or text wait until the conversation with you is over? Another one is people with earphones stuck in, sometimes on a train or bus, and the thing making noises, music that comes out of the earphones in a sort of buzz or insect-like noise, or people ignoring other's eye-contact because their so busy with an iPod or mobile phone. What has happened to the art of conversation? Modern technology seems to have caused a generation to become incapable of proper speech.

My Dad

There was quite an age difference between my mother and father, around 20 years, so my father would have been in his early 40's when they got married in 1945. He would always appear to me, as a  young child, as being quite gruff and somewhat distant as a parent. This might be put down in part to the fact that he was profoundly deaf. This was due to an incident which happened when a gas-gun he was carrying in the back of the Land Rover exploded whilst being driven at the time. I should explain that these gas-guns were used on the farm as a way of frightening off birds, particularly pigeons,  from crops and operated on a timing system. No doubt the one that exploded hadn't been put on safety when it was being transported. He did eventually wear a hearing aid, but only when he could remember to use it and then when it was working correctly and not making loud whistling noises which must have been very uncomfortable for him. Once I'd left home, and after my mother had died in 1981 and you'd visit him he'd be sitting watching television with the sound turned up almost full volume and it was obvious that he wasn't using his hearing aid, so you'd have to hunt around for the television's remote control in order to reduce the volume so you could begin a conversation with him.

He was very good with his hands. He was an excellent welder and this would have been handy with regards repairing equipment on the farm. When we were very young children he constructed an amazing four-wheeled contraption which allowed four of us older children to pedal the thing around the village. It had a steering wheel like a car and the same sort of pedal and chain mechanism you'd find on a bicycle to power it. We sat behind each other rather like a tandem. I'm not sure what became of this wondrous machine, but I have an idea it met with a serious incident, perhaps ending up in a ditch or something worse as as a result being beyond repair and ending it's life in one of the barns on the farm and never being used again when we grew too big to be able to fit in it, which was a real shame.

My Dad certainly seemed extremely accident-prone. The incident which caused his deafness, or at least contributed in large measure to what poor hearing he had before the accident, was just the beginning. At harvest-time there were always problems of some sort or other with the various bits of machinery breaking down and then needing repair. The weather was always an important factor when the corn was being harvested, so if there was a threat of rain then the combine harvester or baling machine would have to come to a standstill. If there was a breakdown, and there were many, my father would be on the spot attempting to repair whatever machine it was in order to keep the harvest going. It was whilst attempting to repair the baling machine that he managed to cut his hand. There is an extremely sharp knife inside the machine which cuts the twine which runs around the bales of straw so I presume it was this which caused his injury. He was constantly shoving his hands inside these machines without any thought of injuring himself. He had to return to the farmhouse with blood pouring everywhere and my mother's training as a nurse must have come in useful as she cleaned up the wound and bandaged his hand but this didn't prevent him from returning to the harvest field to continue with repairing the baler.

On another occasion he was doing some sort of repair on the horse-box my mother owned which was used to transport her horses around to various places. I think he might have been replacing a tyre or something and didn't have the thing lifted up on the proper sort of lift such as you would expect to use for the purpose and the horse box was balanced precariously on a pile of bricks. It was just when my mother was about to serve up Sunday lunch and he came flying into the house, again with blood pouring everywhere. The horse box had collapsed and crushed one of his fingers. He was rushed off to Accident and Emergency in Bedford and it turned out the top-most segment of the finger that was crushed when the horse box collapsed on it had to be removed. Which ever surgeon did the operation did an amazing job but it meant he never had any finger nail on that finger. It must have hurt considerably, but he never seemed to show any sort of pain as a result of the accident.

There could be times when you were with him in the car when he was driving and it could be quite hair-raising, particularly if he was driving past a field that had been ploughed or was being harvested. He would be staring at the field and making comments, particularly if it was a neighbouring  farmer's  as he was sure to make some comment such as 'Huh, that's  a poor field of wheat!" or "ploughing's not very straight!" or "It's full of weeds!" and you'd be holding on to your seat for dear life as the car wandered all over the road and you'd be worried sick that you didn't end up either in the ditch or being hit head-on by another vehicle.

He knew a great deal about cars and it was always useful when something went wrong with your car, as he was really good at sorting problems out, particularly if you couldn't get your car to start, as was often the case with cars I owned, and usually first-thing in the morning if I was driving off somewhere in the middle of winter and it was cold and frosty. Also, if you were looking for a new car he would come with you and check out any car you might be consider buying and make some comment, either good or bad about a possible purchase. He would always ask you, if you were going on a long journey, "have you checked the oil, the tyres, water?" etc etc. All good advice, but it could get a bit tiresome at times.

When I was at Rushmoor School we used to have school on Saturday morning and he was supposed to come and collect me to bring me home afterwards. On several occasions he totally forgot to come and collect me and I was left standing on the pavement outside waiting patiently. He would no doubt be somewhere talking with someone or other and then realise he'd forgotten me. I think he had on one occasion actually gone home and my mother had asked him where I was, and he had to go all the way back to Bedford to collect me. It was on one such occasion when it was raining and I got soaked through, standing and waiting. All this long before mobile phones and being able to ring up or text, of course. It's amazing how we take such technology for granted. I'd love to know how he'd have responded to all the modern technology we have now, such as the internet, mobile phones and multi-channel television such as Sky. I think he would be overwhelmed by it all.

Dad had a passion for cars. Infact, almost anything mechanical or with an engine in it. Which would explain his ability to weld and to build the pedalled contraption already mentioned in this post. He had a variety of cars over the years. As we grew older, the need to have a vehicle which was merely a taxi to ferry us around, either to school or other places, became less and less. So be bought cars that were a little more, how should I say? Sporty? Built for speed? Probably. He had a Triumph Herald 12/50. A little green car. Quite a nifty little beast. But my father wasn't one to leave a car alone. He had to tinker with it and had twin carbs put on it, and extra dials added to the dashboard inside to measure R.P.M. etc. These refinements only made things more difficult when the car broke down. I remember driving with my mother to Fronton-On-Sea in this vehicle (see earlier post for description of our summer holidays on the Essex coast, particularly Frinton and Brightlingsea.) and this car kept over-heating. I think it was during a period of very hot weather. We had to stop in a lay-by somewhere en route, I think probably the Avenue of Remembrance near Colchester, and having to fill the radiator with water as the car was boiling over. I think it was definitely as a result of the 'extras' that had been added by my father. We didn't get much further on, only a couple more miles or so, and having to stop again to top up the radiator. You can imagine how long the journey took, as we had to wait for the radiator to cool down before taking off the cap to put water in. I can't remember where we got the water from. Probably we had to stop and ask at a petrol station or even a private house and no doubt we had a water can with us kept in the boot of the car.

A little later he bought a Triumph 1300 TC. I remember it was gray. He seemed to love it. For it's size and engine it was quite nifty as far as I remember. This was well before I passed my driving test, so I never actually got a chance to drive it. He then decided that my mother should have a car and he bought a second Triumph. This time a maroon colour. Well, as you would expect, my mother kept her in an immaculate condition. Inside and out were kept spotless. Meanwhile, my father's car was dirty. Well, living on a farm you expect there to be a lot of mud and other unmentionables. My mother stuck to driving on the roads. My father not only drove on the public highway but also drove around the farm on farm-tracks. More mud and manure. Also, he drove across fields, through the worst conditions imaginable and probably not the sort of conditions a car such as a Triumph 1300 TC was designed for. So no only the exterior of the car, but also it's interior became very dirty and unloved. Also, because it was driven across very uneven ground it seemed to effect the suspension or something and slowy and shortly it began to develop an annoying squeak as it was being driven. I don't suppose my father could hear it due to his deafness. To cap it all, because he smoked a pipe, and often when he was driving, the car began to fill up with rancid smoke and the smell of tobacco and the remnants of burnt tobacco. Which added not inconsiderably to the very run-down appearance of this vehicle.

Undue Care and Attention

Carol has to do quite a lot of different things besides merely teaching at Milton Keynes Academy. One of these things is to visit the children who go on work experience at various places in and around Milton Keynes. Just to check up on their progress, whether it is good or not so good. I have been with her on several of these visits, although I cannot always go in to the places and have to wait outside in the car. As I've described in other posts on here, we don't exactly excel at navigation, and invariably get lost when looking for places we visit or when we go on holiday. She had three visits yesterday, two in the morning and another in the afternoon. The two morning ones where in Bletchley. Some of the places were near where I used to have calls when I worked for Guardian Homecare. We got to the first one and it was pouring with rain and quite windy (as it is today.) She went into the school and I sat in the car (these visits generally take no more than 20 minutes at the most.) I spent some of my time setting up my new Nokia mobile phone to be able to use Facebook and email, which has taken some time and effort and they now work well enough on this new mobile. As I sat in the car a car drew up and parked across the road from me. The driver, a woman, left the car with the windscreen wipers on as they kept flicking back and forth. This seemed a bit odd to me, because it would have meant not only that the engine was running (I presume) but also that the keys were still in the ignition. She was gone around five minutes and returned to the car with a child she had collected (probably she was taking the child to an appointment or something, the doctor or dentist, or else the child was sick and was going home.) But they got into the car which was unlocked and the she drove away without stopping at the road junction to check if any traffic was coming and drove in the middle of the road. What a driver! She left the car open and so could be stolen and then drove in a somewhat reckless manner in the middle of the road and not checking for traffic at the road junction/crossing! How on earth some people manage to get away without having their cars stolen or without having an accident I'll never know. Did she not realize that she was putting herself and her child at risk?