Monthly Archives: December 2020

31st December 2020

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Who would have thought that we would spend most of the year indoors and afraid of people breathing on us? I’m in the middle of reading Writedown: Lockdown in the Galloway Glens in the Time of Covid.

I was happy to buy the Kindle edition at £1.99 bit if I’d paid £6.50 for a paperback edition I’d have been less pleased. I’d just abandoned an idea to write a haibun diary of the lockdown because I couldn’t introduce enough variety into it and thought it was dull, so was interested to see how other people had coped with the problem. They didn’t. They wrote a book that is full of interesting thoughts and insights but the little sparks of interest don’t grow into anything better.

I’d give it three out of five if I had to mark it. The writing is all good, and the lives they describe draw the reader in, but there just isn’t enough variety of thought or style, which is down to the editing. However, to be fair to the editor, they can only work with what they are sent. Having said that, maybe they should have asked for something different.

This afternoon’s film was Sharknado: It’s About Time, which was a complete shambles of a film featuring the normal tornadoes of sharks plus Time Travel. It was so bad it was great, but it’s a relief to know that it’s the last one, as I don’t think they could top this. I also don’t think I could cope with another. It’s hard to believe that they made six in the series. Don’t bother reading the synopsis on the link, I’ve just put it there to prove that someone really did make 6 films about sharks and tornadoes.

That’s about it for 2020. The Open University has finally deigned to answer my query about my password malfunction and ASDA sent me an email to check how happy I was with my last delivery. It’s taken the OU two weeks to answer a query about the password, even though they were the ones who insisted on the change in the first place. ASDA have, once again, failed to provide me with the bags I paid for, turning the home delivery into a nightmare for a man with arthritis (although it’s better, I’d still prefer not to have to handle crates of shopping when I’ve paid for plastic bags). I’m seriously thinking of going back to shopping in person as soon as I can get a vaccination.

While I’m here, has anyone being seeing an increase in comments and follows from people who seem to be interested in pushing their own (commercial) sites? I do. I’m not sure whether it’s a growing trend or if WP has altered the spam settings. I’ve decided, despite a vague nagging feeling about manners, to label them as spam and dispose of them.

And that, I think, rounds off 2020 for me. I hope you all have a better year next year and can all get out and about once more.

 

Ho, ho, ho… It’s an old picture – I’m wrinklier, grumpier and less well-groomed these days, but I thought it was Festive in tone.

Endings and Beginnings and Keeping Going

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Two days ago I published a  link to my latest published haibun. That night I had an email to discuss some changes to a submission I’d made just before Christmas. I’ve made them so I’m hoping for an acceptance there. Then last night I had a n acceptance for four poems. They are senryu rather than haiku (based on human nature rather than nature) but the line is blurred in English language Japanese-style poetry. It was a bit unexpected as I’ve never been much good with the short poems and, to be honest, never expect much. To have four accepted at one time is close to being unbelievable, and puts my total of short poems published (well, theoretically published – they won’t actually be published until next month) up from two to six, which is a big jump.

It’s quite a good way to end the year – all I need to do now is find a good way to start the New Year.

It goes to show what happens when you set your mind to something. I had a rest at the beginning of the year. I had had a series of rejections, one of my favourite magazines closed and there was a change of editor at another one – a man who has never accepted anything from me, and continues to accept nothing from me. I admit I did give up for a time, but you can’t keep a good man down and at the end of  July, after a lapse of nearly a year, I started submitting again.

Twenty submissions. Nine acceptances. This includes an acceptance from a magazine that turned me down three times previously.

The moral of the story is never give up. And if you do give up, remember that you can always start again. It’s not meant to be easy.

This is a lesson that can be applied to many things, and one which I really ought to remember, because I’m very bad at letting things lapse.

Latest News – just had confirmation the changes are acceptable and I therefore have another acceptance. This is a good end to the year.

 

 

Snow, TV and Haibun

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It snowed today. First it was slow, soft flakes, then ice clicking on the  windows and, after the wind fell, icy particles falling quickly. I’ve never really looked at snow so closely before. Perhaps it’s true that you watch nature more closely when you write haiku. Or maybe, in the absence of Murder She Wrote, merely means I have time to stare out of the window. It’s a rare day when Jessica Fletcher is absent from our screens, but today seems to be such a day. I had to watch Father Dowling instead.

I use snow in the English sense. It fell a couple of hours ago, gave us a light dusting and has now almost gone. This is, to be fair, early for English snow as it often doesn’t appear until January or February, and some years we have none at all. It may be thicker on the uplands and in Scotland, but compared to many places we don’t really have snow in the UK. We do have disruption caused by snow, but that’s because most of us have no equipment to cope with it.

Big news of the day is that Issue Six of Drifting Sands Haibun is now out and thy have shown exquisite taste in selecting one of mine. I could link directly to mine but will, instead, be more modest and just link to the magazine. Scroll down to Wilson for mine, but read some of the others on the way. From the ones I’ve read so far, I have to say that this is one of my favourite issues.

It’s now time to have lunch and complete the online grocery order. Whatever I die from, I doubt that it’s going to be stress. I’m feeling quite serene at the moment, in the absence of work, modern life and the need to wear shoes. There’s something very relaxing about life in slipper socks.

I’m currently working on a post about the RNLI, but, as usual, gathering the information takes me longer than writing a quick note on daily life, which is why slipper socks and snow rose to the top of the pile.

Am Awkward Day

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It’s Monday, so it should be the start of a new week, but somehow it doesn’t seem much of anything – being in that awkward gap between Christmas and New Year. When I was working with poultry it was never a problem as they needed attention every day. The same when I was in the antiques trade – I always had plenty to do in the days between Christmas and New Year because people had Christmas money to spend and time off to attend fairs. Even when the kids were at home, we had plenty to do.

This year, locked down and instructed not to travel, it’s trickier, so I decided that today I would lounge around the house in dressing gown and slipper socks and loaf my life away. It’s after 11pmnow and the plan seems to have worked reasonably well.

As usual, after watching a bunch of high achievers on Christmas University Challenge, I’m left wondering how they managed to rise so high in their professions when they are unable to answer comparatively simple general knowledge questions. Same goes for Celebrity Mastermind, Even the contestants on ordinary Mastermind didn’t exactly shine like beacons of brilliance. The contestants on Only Connect, of course, continue to mystify me.

In other words, I’ve watched far too many quizzes today. However, while I’m watching quizzes I’m not eating, so that is good. We still have chocolate and biscuits in the house, as we are cutting back. I suspect we may not finish them until well into 2021. That’s partly lifestyle choice and partly over-exposure to Weight Watchers adverts.

I just found that I can select a month when looking back at old photos. Seven years on WP and still haven’t learnt how to do it!

Seal pup – Donna Nook, Lincolnshire

This is a seal photo from the days we were allowed to travel.

 

The Cheeriness Returns

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I’ve just read Lavinia Ross’s latest post, which always leaves me feeling cheerful, with its big skies, cats and wine. She has music too, but despite the recent purchase of a new computer I still don’t have sound.

While I was reading it I ate porridge with bananas and blueberries. It’s not possible to eat that without feeling cheerful either.

So, all in all, it looks like I’m in a positive frame of mind. This might be, in truth, due to the mending of my Kindle performed by Number One Son while he was here. It had filled up and I couldn’t read my new books. It has been like this for a month and it slows me down, as it’s so much easier to read on Kindle than it is to find a book, a reading lamp and my glasses. It turns out that I’ve been downloading magazines instead opf just reading them. Once we cleared them everything is working again.

We had cheese with grated black truffle for lunch yesterday. I had never had truffle before and enjoyed the experience. It was garlicky and very intense. I just looked it up on the internet and found that it may have been nutty too, and that the nutrient profile of truffles is “impressive”.  So is the price, but it was a present so I won’t comment, though I will start saving up to buy some for next Christmas.

I thought pizza was exotic when I first had it, now I’m eating truffles. The world really is a wondrous place. Of course, the way things are going I may still be eating sparrows next year, so I won’t let my happiness get out of control.

With any luck Julia may relax her grip on the Christmas cake and let me have a slice this afternoon if I whine enough. She spent three months ensuring it was in peak condition, and it is an excellent cake. Unfortunately this also makes it too good to allow me unrestricted access as I’m not regarded as a man that can be trusted with cake.

Robin on a Fence Post

Christmas Stamps

Hands, Face, Space, and Travel on 26th December

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We left for Sheffield just after lunch and returned under cover of darkness. It wasn’t planned that way but there seemed little point in rushing about. There had been reports of South Yorkshire Police stopping people to see what they were doing but we only saw one police car on the whole journey. I think that in reality they have plenty of work on without stopping motorists to see if we are breaching advice on travel.

It was interesting that as we left there were a lot of unfamiliar cars parked down our street, which clearly indicated that some people were entertaining visitors. But there should be no visitors on 26th. You can however, it seems, stay in rented accommodation overnight on 24th and 25th as part of your journey plan. This means that travelling home on 26th is within the guidelines, so today’s journey was almost within the guidelines.

As we passed Sheffield the car parks at Meadowhall were crowded, with thousands of people travelling to shop and, I suspect, get closer than six feet. I know of at least one person who is planning to travel there to shop in the next week, so I’d like to know how officialdom would be able to justify telling me my journey was unacceptable but a trip to a toyshop is OK.

I offer this information not as an excuse for my breaking of the rules, but as an example of the actual situation when someone researches the Covid Pandemic in twenty years.

It’s not the first time I’ve broken the law. I have, in the past, driven too fast, accepted payment in cash (which I may have forgotten to note down properly) and sung drunken rugby songs in public. I am, like many other people, neither a shining light of moral rectitude or an habitual criminal. By the time this blog post is used as an historical document all these things may well have gone the same way as the dodo. I saw someone caught in a speed trap today (they are getting very efficient), cash is out of favour during the pandemic and rugby is under pressure from people worrying about concussion. Like coin clipping, recusancy and frame breaking these are all crimes that may be impossible 20 years from now.

That concludes my tales of Christmas Lockdown

 

Christmas is Over but the Turkey Remains

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Christmas is over and I can now transfer my attention to the next seasonal tradition. This is not Boxing day sales, because I’ve never bothered with them, but turkey eating. Fortunately we will be able to give some away to Number One Son when we take him home, as it can get a bit wearing. That laves us with enough for another roast dinner, curry, stir-fry, sandwiches and, probably, a pie. Fortunately I have a high tolerance to turkey and this shouldn’t be a problem.

It does, however, bring up the subject of eating at Christmas. It’s taken me thirty years to scale it back to this level as, since being married, I always used to cram the fridge and prepare for a siege. There’s something about a family Christmas that triggers a buying spree.

Still, not to complain. As Brexit proceeds, civilisation breaks down and I become a pensioner it’s possible that I will look back on these as the halcyon days. As Christmas dinner becomes a sparrow cooked over a stub of candle to the accompaniment of memories of the days when “having the in-laws for Christmas” was a social obligation rather than a dietary choice, I will smile gently at the thought of having too much food.

I did go on to write a couple of hundred words in the spirit of Scrooge, but I think I’ll preserve the upbeat spirit of Christmas and finish off with a little padding to make 250 words. After that it will be time to eat something and head North.

Let’s face it, it’s Christmas, so it’s always time to eat something.

1982 Christmas Stamp – yesterday’s Carol Singers were from 1990.

 

A Simple Day for a Simple Man

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I’ve just spent a happy morning in front of the fire chatting, eating chocolate and watching compilations of Christmas songs on TV. I am a simple man and this is all I need. This expanded to a happy afternoon doing the same.

I just spent five minutes trying to delete a surplus full stop from that sentence. One of my resolutions for next year is to keep my computer screen cleaner, as it turned out to be a small mark on the screen that lined up perfectly. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, but it always fools me.

As I said, I am a simple man.

I have my wife by my side, my firstborn nearby and the spare child checked in by some mysterious process which allowed his face to appear on a computer screen and tell me I was looking older. He is looking uglier and tubbier than last time I saw him. It is good to have all this modern technology to hurl abuse at family members who are thousands of miles away, though I’m not sure that when I first came across a “video phone” in a science fiction story that I would ever use one for this purpose.

After that I rang my sister using 19th century technology and delayed her until she had to go, because her oven was emitting smoke. Her cooker has either elected a new pope or burned her Christmas dinner. I fear it is the latter.

I’m now going to stalk a few of my regular blogging companions and see how their day is going. After that it is turkey and more TV. I also intend drinking some of the tea I have been sent as presents and rounding the day off with biscuits.

1995 Robin stamp

 

Happy Christmas Everyone

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Even if you don’t celebrate Christmas, have a good day tomorrow. I’ve just been speaking to Number Two Son in Toronto. He has a couple of days of employment left until his job finishes, at which point the Canadian Government will start paying him enough for food and accommodation. He’s already on the trail of another job, so the unemployment may well be short lived.

If you judge the quality of a nation from the way it treats its lower level citizens (and let’s face it a tourist with a Geography degree and job experience at the lower end of the hospitality trade isn’t a high class immigrant) then Canada is looking pretty good. I am, of course, biased, as they are looking after him well. If he looked a touch more indigenous he might not be so lucky.

Despite my use of a stamp with traditional Christmas imagery, there has been no snow here, though there was some further north, and there were no carol singers either. However, we can still have goodwill to all mankind. Even IO can manage that for one day out of 365.

In the shop we had five parcels to do, which were, fortunately, all for UK addresses. The Royal mail has suspended a number of foreign services because they have so much mail accumulated, and so many closed borders. I’m sure that a few late parcels won’t spoil Christmas, but it’s a sign of the times when the world grinds to a halt.

A dealer came to call, and told us he’d been stopped on the way by police wanting to know the purpose of his journey. Clearly, murder, rape and robbery are all on the back-burner while they chase the real criminals. Rob the shop and they won’t even knock on your door in case they infringe your civil rights. Sneak in a quick visit to your grandma and you will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law, unless you are one of the well-known exceptions.

First Official Air Mail Postcards

I was able to spend the rest of the morning researching the first scheduled air mail service in the world (September 1911 – London to Windsor) and Epps’s Cocoa, which was at one time the best selling brand in the UK. I would add links, but I don’t want to spoil you.

Epps’s Cocoa Nature Cards

Julia sends her regards too – though she’s rushing about worrying about Christmas being a “success”. We have each other, we have family, we have food, warmth and (somewhat dull) TV. We don’t really need anything more, but she always worries. I hope you all have a comfortable and unexciting day (we’ve already had too much excitement this year) and that next years shows a distinct upturn.

 

One Day Left

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The M1 was quite busy today, so I suspect that we weren’t the only ones out on a Christmas Mission. It was also grey, wet and miserable, but as we were heading into Yorkshire this was not a surprise. Northern weather is famous for its greyness, moisture content and humourless qualities and this was a prizewinning example of its type. When I say that when I win the lottery I’m going to buy a house in a desert, I’m not joking. Well, the “win the lottery” may have an ironic ring, but the “desert” part is heartfelt.

There were still quite a few lorries on the road, despite 5,000 of them being parked in Kent. The Great Kent Car Parking Scheme is, I think, giving us an insight into how the first days of Brexit will go. The only good thing I heard is that due to lorries being unable to come from the Continent there will be a lettuce shortage. This, as far as I’m concerned, is not a problem, and almost makes Brexit worthwhile. IT certainly underlines the unpatriotic nature of salad eating, and the carbon footprint generated by winter vegetarians. Eat carrots in winter, lettuce in Spring, when we can grow our own.

Any way, back to the desperadoes breaking lockdown regulations…

We travelled up, we travelled down. We moved a Covid-tested family member from one Level 3 area to another, where he will spend four days indoors (we will not be socialising with open windows, no matter what the government says) and we will do the journey in reverse.

I can’t say I have any feeling about being a criminal and I don’t think I’ve actually ceded much in the way of moral high ground to Boris Johnson.

I see on TV that they have been vaccinating Chelsea Pensioners, including a D-Day Veteran.

Only one day left at work then I get a week off. It’ll be  alot like lockdown but without the satisfaction of being paid by the Government…