Monthly Archives: March 2019

End of an Era

Today I dropped Julia off for her Sunday shift for the penultimate time. Next week will mark the end of an era. And not before time.

She started at the centre about eight years ago as one of the team that was recruited to open it after a multi-million pound refurbishment. Her hours were Thursday nights, most of Saturday and a long Sunday shift – 6am until 4.30 pm. She was paid extra for Saturday and Sunday and this allowed us to feed and clothe the children whilst running the project on the farm without taking wages. Ten and a half hours of double time on Sunday was very welcome.

The kids are pretty much self-financing now (cue sound of ironic laughter) and the project ended a couple of years ago. (Incidentally, though they ejected us in favour of tenants who were able to pay more, the tenants left after a few months, having gone bankrupt, and the building has been untenanted and unused for the last few years.)

At the centre, things changed and the receptionists ended up doing the work of the admin workers, who were made redundant. They are paid less than the centre attendents, despite having a wider range of skills and being subject to abuse from the public. (This is the short version of what has gone wrong).

Finally, the council announced that they would no longer pay extra for Saturday and Sunday. They agreed to continue the pay for three years, though even this has been subject to some sharp practice.

At that point we looked at our lives and decided she should give notice. I’ve been keener on that than she has, because she worries about how we will live. I’m not. All I really need for happiness is Julia and a library ticket. I just re-read that last sentence, perhaps “lottery ticket” would fit better…

And fish and chips.

Something will turn up. That is known as the Micawber Principle.

Just over a month ago, she gave notice. Two weeks ago she was abused by a member of the public. This happens nearly every week, because the pricing structure is unclear, management refuses to clamp down on customer bahaviour, and because many people have no manners. It is the second time this particular customer has given trouble in two months. Normally she tries to shrug it off but this particular incident was witnessed by a new manager who has more backbone than the others. He wrote a report, made Julia write a report and, when the local Police liaison officer visited, discussed the matter with her. The result is that the man has been warned about his future behaviour and his membership has been temporarily suspended.

About time, I say. The really telling point about his behaviour, I think, is that all the time he was abusing Julia he was also abusing his wife and talking on his mobile phone.

And, having worked in my customary criticism of mobile phones, I will now finish.

If anyone is looking for a job that pays a few pence above minimum wage, allows you to start at 6am on a Sunday, features an ever-changing array of prices, has a faulty till system and offers you the chance of being threatened and abused by the public on a regular basis please get in touch. I know where there is one going…

I seem to have been stuck with two extra pictures – pesky new editor.

‘eave ‘alf a brick at ‘im

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After work, which was another busy day, I went shopping in Waitrose. Now, for those of you who aren’t attuned to the ways of the English, this may mean nothing, but the Brits will all be nodding wisely. They know that I’m a natural TESCO shopper and not a good match with the upper classes that inhabit the aisles of Waitrose.

I like to shop there now and again to add a bit of variety to our diet, and a bit of variety to my life.

To be honest, it felt like I’d wandered into the middle of National Dress Like an Idiot Day. Well, I didn’t think “idiot” – feel free to substitute your own if you feel the need for something stronger.

Considering that I often look like I dressed in the dark, I don’t generally comment on the clothing of others, but today I just had to say something.

There were quite a few 40-year-olds dressed like teenagers and a number of women dressed like they’d just stepped off their country estates. There were other poor sartorial decisions too, but one stood out. It wasn’t just a crime against fashion, but probably a crime against humanity.

The perpetrator was around sixty, taller than me and badly shaved. He was wearing jeans with turn-ups, red socks and white sneakers. Add an overcoat, a flat cap and a pair of glasses that looked like welder’s goggles. I didn’t even see his shirt, but it was probably hideous.

He looked like a refugee from London Fashion Week, or some similar pit of …er…individualistic dressing.

For some reason I’m thinking of this cartoon.

Another Busy Day

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Yesterday we had end to end customers, and the same was true today. Earlier in the week we had a Guildhall Coronation Medal brought into the shop with a selection of other medals associated with Guildhall dinners and the Freemasons. We weren’t able to buy them, though we did buy the associated coins. The owner has taken them home to talk to their children and decide what to do. This is an example photograph from the internet as I didn’t think to ask if I could take a photograph at the time.

The photographs below are ones I took of an interesting group of medals that came into the shop today. They represent 38 years in the army, with six tours – three in the Balkans (one with the UN and two with NATO) and three in Afghanistan. The last three medals are the Golden and Diamond Jubilee medals and the Army Long Service and Good Conduct medal. We tend not to give a lot of medals out. The silver laurel leaves are the Queen’s Commendation for Valuable Service, which the recipient was awarded for his services in Helmand Province.

Modern Group with QCVS

Lots more happened, but that, for me, was the most interesting part. I’m a man who is easily satisfied.

1500

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As usual, I can’t let a numerical milestone pass without using it as a lazy title.

I checked Haibun Today yesterday, remembering that I should be in it. I am. (Despite things being approved by editors I always worry that a last minute glitch will prevent publication).

My first post, on 8th October 2014, was about Guinea Fowl sheltering from the rain. I was hoping to be appalled by my poor quality writing and banal subject matter, but it seems as good as anything I’ve done, which is a bit annoying – I was hoping I’d improved over time.

When I worked in South Africa I used to have a family of Guinea Fowl that walked across the front lawn on a regular patrol. The ones on the farm did the same thing, stalking the gardens, eating pests and depositing manure.

There are still four left on the farm, defying the odds. They have lasted better than we did.

I will say no more.

Change is Easy…

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I’m giving the new editor another try. I don’t particularly want to, but I do want to access some of my older photos and I can’t do that in the normal editor. Anyway, it’s time I started embracing new technology.

Julia has had an adventurous day, first cutting herself whilst trying a spot of woodcarving, then melting a hole in her fleece when she transferred her attention to pyrography. Well, I say “attention”, but if she’d been paying attention she wouldn’t actually have melted the fleece.

I’m now going to put some photos in, if I can. The new editor doesn’t seem keen. I’m already remembering why I switched it off and went back to the old one.

This, hopefully, is a selection of my favourite photos from the last year.

I’m not finding it as easy as the old editor because I’m having to load one large photo at a time.

Change is easy, as they say, but improvement is hard.

The Scone Chronicles XI

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Another one without scones, I’m afraid.

After Wetherby Services we looped round through Teesside and drove down the coast through Saltburn (report later) to Whitby. It’s a great drive.

We finished by parking outside Mrs Botham’s Tearoom and entered the 1950s. I’ll cut straight to the food and ignore the rest of it if you don’t mind. I love the ambience at Botham’s but I’m writing about it elsewhere so I don’t want to repeat myself. Note that Botham’s retain the apostrophe, where Bettys have dropped theirs.

Mrs Botham’s – Whitby

We selected their freshly made crab sandwiches on multi-seed bread. There’s a clue to quality there – the bread was wonderfully fresh, as was the filling, another contrast with our Bettys experience.

The salad was fresh and beautifully dressed too – I actually enjoyed it rather than just enduring it, which I often do.

Mrs Botham’s – Whitby

Sorry it’s short – have to and pick up Number Two Son from work.

A Day Passing in a Blur

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Today passed in a blur. Perhaps you guessed that from the title.

First there was the blood test. In the absence of a panicky phone call I’m assuming I passed, though tomorrow’s post will bring the full details.

Things have changed over the last few weeks. When I had my blood test five weeks ago it was still almost dark when I left at around 7.15. Two weeks ago it was definitely verging on daylight. Today it was bright and springlike. Not only is it easier to see where I’m going but I’m feeling decidedly more cheerful.

Irises in Spring

In the last month they have blood-tested 6,893 inpatients and 4,694 outpatients. The average wait is, they say, nine minutes. I’m dubious about the nine minutes but I’ll let it slide for now and start timing my wait from now on. I have a stopwatch on my phone and I’m obsessive enough to use it.

After that I took Julia to work and then went to work myself. On arrival I ate my sandwiches for breakfast because I hadn’t had time to eat anything this morning.

We had a dozen parcels, a couple of customers and put some stuff on eBay, but nothing particularly interesting.

Crocuses

After that I drove to Newark, spent a few hours chatting, shopped, ate another sandwich and went home. Once home I read some blogs, answered some comments and started cooking in bulk for the coming week.

I’m now writing today’s post as tonight’s stew simmers.

Julia is out visiting a neighbour. She’s got the car keys so I expect she’s going to fill the car with junk and expect me to be happy about it.

It’s all part of life’s rich pageant for a married man…

The Dogwood Fedge

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We used to have a willow fedge on the farm, which was quite useful. They make good windbreaks, are sustainable and don’t take a lot of skill – just some thought and a bit of hard work.

I hadn’t thought of the word “fedge” for several years but it came back to me this week. So did “pressure graft”. It means the bits of branch pushing against each other an eventually joining up.

I’m not sure we need a new word to describe them fence or hedge would do the job without being mashed together in a new word.

When we went to Harlow Carr we saw a development we hadn’t seen before – a woven dogwood fence. Or hedge. Actually, I suppose there is a use for fedge now I think about it – it does save the effort of making a decision over use of the word hedge or fence.

Dogwood Fedge at Harlow Carr

It’s an interesting decorative border, I’ll take more photos as the year moves on. They willow ones get quite leafy – I’m intrigued to see how the dogwood version does.

Dogwood Fedge at Harlow Carr – rhubarb forcing pots in the background

Harlow Carr Gardens – The Visit

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The approach to Harlow Carr was interesting as the satnav told us to take a different route to that indicated by the brown signs. It was an interesting, and narrow route. I will follow the signs next time and suspect I will have a less strenuous drive.

There is a lot of building going on in the area, and there is a large set of roadworks at the entrance to the gardens. Despite this we didn’t have to queue for long and were soon in the car park, dodging doddery pedestrians and trying to find a space.

I think I’ve already mentioned that most of the pensionable population of Yorkshire was out in the garden. Many of them were playing slow-motion Russian Roulette in the car park whilst others formed an orderly queue at Bettys.

That still left a surprising number to fill the garden paths. Fortunately, although the unkindness of the passing years has rendered me less mobile, it has made it easier for me to formate with pensioners. I was even able to hold a few up as I paused for photography.

Harlow Carr Heather bed

Harlow Carr another view

Harlow Carr – I ran out of ideas

Harlow Carr Sculpture worm

Harlow Carr View

There are some compensations to getting old.

We only saw about quarter of the gardens. There was a big bed of heathers as we walked in. It was good winter colour, one of the things I was looking for, but not something likely to be making an appearence in our garden.

There are some great vistas in the garden which, again, aren’t likely to be repeated at our house. You need distance for vistas and that isn’t something you can buy at the garden centre.

We looked at the alpine house because Julia is looking at a cactus/succulent/alpine project this year. I suspect the Mencap version will be slightly less polished than the RHS version.

Harlow Carr Alpine House

I had taken a few photos by this time, including a wicker worm and a moving sycamore sculpture.

I won’t take you through the rest of the day in such detail – just give a quick list. Spring flowers, rhubarb, dogwood, kitchen garden, scones, toilets, mosaic display, sulphur springs, foliage beds, garden centre, bookshop, afternoon tea at Bettys.

We missed the lake, the library, the arboretum, the education garden and probably some other things we don’t know about.

To be honest, my search for new winter ideas didn’t meet with much success – I already knew you could plant bulbs and shrubs and leave large areas of bare soil.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Dogwood Fedge – Harlow Carr

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

It was a very enjoyable day despite this and I’m looking forwards to the spring visit, though I might try taking a flask and sandwiches next time. That way I can save money and take up an entire bench whilst pensioners tut their way past looking for somewhere to sit.

I’m a member. I can go as many times as I like without it costing more. I’m feeling quite smug.

Wetherby Services

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I have so much material from the last few days, I’m struggling to get it all down. However, as promised, I am having a rest from scones.

I need more time for the Harlow Carr post that I’m going to move to the next day. The first stop on the way to the Yorkshire coast was Wetherby Services.

Wetherby Services

Wetherby Services – it’s cavernous

Wetherby Services – lokking out

Wetherby Services Electric Refuelling

Wetherby Services Dog Walking Area

On looking it up for the link I was amazed to find that it’s now ten years old and scores highly for customer satisfaction. I’ve always found that it scores highly for being crowded and uncomfortable. I don’t know why, I just don’t feel relaxed there. The crowds, I suspect, are evidence that other people like it. On Wednesday a lot of the crowds were university sports teams.

We had coffee there, and the barrista put a heart in Julia’s coffee. I got a blob.

Coffee at Costa

Then we bought a vegan sausage roll on the way out and photographed it. Last time I had one I didn’t get a photo. It was equally as good as the last one and, like the last one, I ate it in the car. I am very predictable.

We would have had one each but they only had one left. Yes, massive service station – just one vegan sausage roll. Strange.

Gregg’s Vegan Sausage Roll

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Life after the Care Farm

Monthly Archives: March 2019

End of an Era

‘eave ‘alf a brick at ‘im

Another Busy Day

1500

Change is Easy…

The Scone Chronicles XI

A Day Passing in a Blur

The Dogwood Fedge

Harlow Carr Gardens – The Visit

Wetherby Services