Monthly Archives: February 2022

Day 41

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It’s the early hours of the morning and, as usual, I am still up finding odd jobs to do. Yesterday was quite action packed so I’m going to write about it now and may even squeeze another post in today – or lengthen this one in the evening. There are so many options!

I’ve had a couple of emails in the last few days, but nowhere to fit the news in. I made four submissions at the end of January, two of them have now come back with acceptances. Two acceptances is good. It means I am back in the groove and it also means means I have 18 poems back, and can use them again. I will edit and polish and see what happens.

This is why it’s easier to make submissions when you are doing it constantly – there is a constant turnover as submittable material comes back. Some months last year my submissions were entirely poems which had already been out. This is so much easier than having to start from scratch. Admittedly, not all returned poems are fit to send out again, but most of them are, and many of them are used on their second or third attempt. I’ve read interviews by well known poets who have done well with work that has been submitted over 20 times.

Sometimes the talent you need isn’t writing ability but persistence.

Same goes for vegetable stew making. Last week it was appalling, mainly due to the use of putrid parsnips, this week it was excellent, and I had the added pleasure of using the cauliflower leaves from last night as greens to add more goodness to the stew and prevent waste. Why compost it when you can eat it?

I also had a blood test – as I said, it’s all happening! Nobody has rung so I assume I passed. Nobody has rung to complain that I am a week late either, I think we have finally reached an understanding. Next time I also have a liver function blood test to make sure the arthritis drugs aren’t doing me any damage. I hope they aren’t, as I’m reasonably happy with them at the moment.

The picture is snowdrops from 2019. They are out now but I have no new photos. That has been a feature of the days of covid – very few new photos.

Day 40

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A couple of days ago, prompted by the loss of my glasses and a comment by Tootlepedal, I planned a post on memory loss in my dotage. The link isn’t actually to the post I wrote a couple of days ago, but it didn’t come up in the search – I will have to look manually. Ah, here it is – Day 38.

Unfortunately, and this is going to sound like I just set this up as a joke, I forgot to write it.

Last night I also didn’t write about my cookery. We had ab timing issue as young people say. They say it because they never want to take responsibility for anything they do.

The actual facts are that I got the timing wrong. The reason I got the timing wrong was because I was on eBay when I should have been pottering around in the kitchen. So the red cabbage, which should have been steaming in a minimal amount of water and vinegar, carbonised itself on the bottom of the pan and while I was scraping that the cheese sauce took a grip on the saucepan and refused to let go and I forgot the potato wedges were on high. . .

The gammon was nice and the cauliflower and roasted leeks were OK.  The wedges were crispy, the cheese sauce wasn’t great and the red cabbage was, to quote Julia “inedible”. I ate mine, but I suppose I’ve grown immune to my own coking over the years. It had what we chefs call “a smoky finish” but was OK. I’ve eaten worse, after fifty years of cooking without training, I’ve cooked some real horrors.

I’m doing vegetable stew tonight and hoping it will be problem free. Fingers crossed.

The featured image shows what happens if you photograph a black lacquer effect coin presentation box without concentrating.

Day 39

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I’m writing again now, and some of it has promise. I’ve even started reading a bit more. Unfortunately, like my weight loss, I still need to do a lot more.

Of course, the time can’t just be devoted to writing. Even the “writing time” has to take in research and administration. I need to get my submissions log up to date, as I didn’t record everything that went out in the rush at the end of January. I also need to get my printouts of published poems up to date – they are probably lagging by six months but I like to keep a hard copy so that I can browse it when I’m feeling down. The printer has broken, yet again, and I really need to get another one. However, it doesn’t seem as simple as it used to be, and I keep putting it off for fear of buying the wrong sort.

A lot of them seem to be wireless or bluetooth these days and I’ve never had much luck with either system.

Although I’m currently writing various things I will have to find out which magazines are open for submissions before I go much further. It’s a lot easier to meet a deadline when you know the exact date.

The header photo is a temperance medal from the Independent Order of Good Templars, who broke away from the Order of Good Templars in 1852 (which reminds me of so many committees I have seen). They eventually merged again, expanded internationally and are now known as the International Organisation of Good Templars. The medal dates from the latter part of the 19th century and is in excellent condition for its age. I listed it just before lunch yesterday and someone bought it twenty minutes later. With that and the cigarette case I seem to be on a roll. The medal is big, about 45mm in diameter, despite the size it appears to be on my screen. I haven’t quite got the hang of sizing photos yet.

Independent Order of Good Templars medal (obverse)

Independent Order of Good Templars medal (Reverse)

Day 38

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I’m beginning to realise that although the numbering of blog posts is liberating, and saves time, it is also quite limiting.

In the past it has sometimes taken a significant amount of time to come up with a title, particularly when I was looking for a pun or alliteration. It is a lot easier just to sling down “Day 38” and press the “Publish” button.

Unfortunately, it is also quite easy to get stuck in a rut and just jot down a list of things I did, or didn’t, do in the course of a day. I have been noticing this recently. It is like an invisible editor sitting on my shoulder and prodding me in the ear every time I start to deviate from the format.

Without realising it, I have allowed the blog to become a list of my daily event, or at least, a portion of my daily events. I must try for more variety.

On arrival this morning, I realised I’d left my glasses at home. Next to the notebook I’d been writing in just before bed, in fact. My work glasses were at home because I’d tidied my desk last week and moved them. NO worries, I always carry a spare pair in my bag . . .

Well, that’s the theory. As my hand met thin air I realised I’d been using them at the home computer the night before. Sometimes even the best of plans break down. Fortunately my co-worker had a spare pair that worked for me, and saved the day.

I’m currently wearing my “work pair” which will go in the bag when I finish. The “main pair” are still upstairs. I suspect the “spare pair” are somewhere in the living room or by the computer, it’s just that my “system” consists of putting things down then putting things on top of them. I rarely actually lose things, but the stratification can make it difficult to find lost glasses.

Julia is going to love this post, because she has ben telling me I should tidy my desk for at least three weeks. Sigh . . .

The photo is a cigarette case with the design of a French 1,000 Franc banknote on it . The banknote is around 1927 and the case is probably about the same. We weren’t sure how to price it on eBay and feel that as it sold about twenty minutes after we uploaded it, that we may have erred on the cheap side. That’s the trouble with unusual items, you don’t always get it right, However, we are solvent, so we must be doing something right., and we just made a collector happy, which is an important part of the job.

Day 37

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Another day, another excuse . . .

If I had to write down everything I did each day of my life it would be a short list, easily condensed into sleeping, eating, muttering, snoozing (which is similar to sleeping but in a chair in front of TV), snacking (similar to eating but see previous definition), reading, writing, browsing eBay, cooking and making sandwiches. there is no entry for washing up or housework as Julia says I never do any. Or exercise, self improvement or personal grooming. I don’t see the point. Yes, there are several other activities, but good taste and literary style allow me to omit them. Oh, on-line grocery shopping, nearly forgot that modern pleasure.

In fact, I did forget it, so I just booked us a date and shopped by running down the list of favourites. It is quicker that way, though the menu is definitely less varied and you can end up with duplication and over-ordering if you don’t check. I’ll check tomorrow. That way I know the order is in. I don’t mind tinkering with the order, but I hate having to do it all  at the last minute. When I reserve the slot, and forget to shop until the night before, it can get quite fraught.

I’m finally beginning to pick up the reading again, after a month of only reading articles. I am now fully clued up on social-control by Communion Token, the use of Co-op tokens and the manufacture of plastic tokens from the late 19th century to the present day. Unfortunately, though it’s quite interesting (to me, at any rate) it isn’t quite as relaxing as a good detective story or as mentally nourishing as a novel. I am trying to get back to books.

On the other hand, I make my living by knowing stuff like that, rather than by discussing the finer points of literature.

 

 

Day 36

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As I was leaving the shop today, one of the customers asked me what I was going to do for the rest of the afternoon.

“Well,” I said,”at the moment I’m trying to decide between sitting and watching TV with the gas fire on, or sitting by the gas fire watching TV.”

In fact, I did neither. I fell asleep by the gas fire with the remote in my hand. Julia returned home, gave me tea and biscuits, and described the research she was doing in some old family letters. She has just been sent some by an aunt who is clearing out and they cover things like her grandfather’s WW1 service as a tank driver and his time in hospital after being injured on the night of 14/15 November 1940 in the Coventry Blitz, when he was an air-raid warden. I know I have photos somewhere but don’t seem to have used them on the blog.

I made coleslaw and cheesy nachos for tea, which were tasty additions to the main part of the meal, which I subcontracted out. Yes, another takeaway. It will last for at least two meals under our new frugal regime. The coleslaw was red cabbage, spring onions, celery, pumpkin seeds, mayonnaise and lime juice. In other words, it was what I had to hand. The celery was starting to droop a bit and the lime was looking wrinkly, so it all went in. In dietary terms it’s not quite an antidote to a pizza, but at least part of the meal was healthy.

A bit more snoozing in front of the fire and a little light computer work completed the day.

I hope the header picture wasn’t too alarming. It’s a bit of a contrast to the last one, even though it’s only about. . .

Actually it’s probably 15 years ago. If the loss of colour and vitality continues the one I take in 2037 may well feature a handful of dust . . .

Day 35

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I had an email today, and I’m happy. For the next month I am going to be on the front page of contemporary haibun online. It feels a bit like being famous, as I’ve actually heard of the other two who are on there. However, to drift back from dreams of fame and success for a moment, if you are reading this in March, you will ned to use this link as I fade back into obscurity and gradually become part of the clutter at the back of the internet.

I’ve just realised that I’m back in drifting sands haibun. I had been rejected for the last two issues but manged to pull something out of the bag for this one. It was mainly written before I became ill in the autumn and I managed to get it polished just in time. Same with the cho submission. Now I just need to get back in my stride for the spring.

I’ve developed some bad habits while I’ve been taking a rest from writing – spending too much time on eBay for instance, and thinking about the problems of the world. I need to get back to poetry and away from real life.

Last night Julia kept twitching in bed, and every time she did so, the covers acted like bellows, drawing cold air across my shoulders and waking me up. It wasn’t all bad, because as I lay awake I invented a new way of keeping warm at night.

Unfortunately, in the cold light of dawn, I realised that the Reheating Hot Water Bottle  wasn’t going to be a goer. It would have been OK in the 1920s when it would have been fine to link a container of water to the mains electricity, using that braided brown flex favoured by our grandparents. But Julia doesn’t think they would allow it now. She also points out that electric blankets are easier and safer and if I feel cold in bed maybe I should buy one and stop waking her at 6am to discuss my ideas for new inventions. I’m afraid she isn’t always open to new ideas, like the one I had about her adding “the famous poet” after every mention of my name. I mentioned that after showing her the cho page. She’s not keen . . .

The top picture is one of Simon Wilson, the famous poet.It’s the unedited version of the one in cho and you can clearly see that my “office” includes a microwave, a kettle and a coin cabinet.

 

 

 

Day 34

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Very little to say today. This partly because nothing much happened. It was a bit warmer. I feel a bit better. We liquidised last night’s vegetable stew and had vegetable soup for tea. We also had two short-dated fruit tarts which Julia had bought for a few pence yesterday. They were undoubtedly bad for us but we enjoyed them, and at least there was some fruit involved.

Gas prices have gone up massively, which wasn’t a surprise. They are not guaranteed to go down either, which was not a surprise either. They seldom do. The government isn’t doing much to help with gas prices, I am told, but to be honest I wasn’t aware that government’s  job was to pay for my heating.

Government’s job in the past was to build nuclear power stations so we could generate electricity, but nobody wanted them to do that. Maybe they should now be encouraging wind power, but everyone whines about windmills spoiling their view.

They should encourage solar panels, by making it a condition of planning permission that all new homes should have solar panels as standard. A hundred acres of solar panels taking up farm land is a problem, but a hundred acres of solar panels on roofs won’t harm anyone.

Then, if they can just find a way for people to run their gas heating systems using renewable electricity we will all be laughing. That’s a point that the renewable energy spokesman missed in his press release this afternoon. How exactly does renewable electricity make my gas fire work?

I’m glad I’m not the one who has to sort it all out.

The picture is from February 2019. Was it only three years ago that we considered going out for tea and scones to be a pleasurable pursuit rather than a dangerous sport?

 

 

 

Day 33

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Today has been a complete write-off. I had a lie in, got up very slowly and he did nothing. It reminds me of the days (was it only three months ago?) when I had cellulitis and covid one after the other. I’m going to test myself later, and hope that I don’t have covid again. It seems that you can catch the new Omicron variant even after having the Delta form, which was the main one when I had it last.

It’s strange how quickly things become established as “normal”. Three years ago there was no covid, no variants and no testing. Now it’s  firmly established as one of the top topics of conversation. The weather still dominates, but I’m not sure where I would place covid, politics and global warming. I suspect covid is in the second spot with the other two lagging behind.

I watched a TV programme about a Farmers’ Market in Somerset once I started taking an interest in the day. Then I cut the swede (rutabaga) for tonight’s vegetable stew. When things get tough we revert to comfort food. Julia is  feeling under the weather too, so it has been a subdued day. Swedes are hard work and it requires a man and a large knife to cut one. It does in our house anyway, I’m sure there are lots of homes where tricky veg are not seen as a man’s job.

On the other side of the coin, I’m hopeless at dumplings, so rely on Julia to make them when we have vegetable stew, so it all works out.

And that, as I sneak past the 250 word mark, is enough. I am feeling tired again and need to rest. Pathetic, isn’t it?

The picture is a reminder that things will get brighter.

 

Day 32

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Just a quick visit. The shop was very cold today, the heating is poor, and by mid afternoon, when I realised I was cold, it was too late to do anything about it. I was frozen to he core, shaking, and looking forward to getting home. When I did, I sat in front of the fire under a heap of clothing and, over the course of three hours, thawed out.

This is a brief trip to the dining room to clatter out a few words on the computer before going back to the warmth of the living room. The back of the house faces north and is a bit draughty, which isn’t what I want right now.

I was intending having a night off from writing anyway, so it has just fallen right.

Tomorrow, I will check on submission windows for February and will start again.

We had constant phone calls today. Every time I tried to use sellotape, or was halfway through licking stamps, someone rang. Rare £2 coins, rare 50p coins, a coin bought in a Charity Shop . . .

I also made three appointments for people to come and sell us stuff. It would be better if they wanted to buy, but there you go. That’s how it always is in a shop. It’s easy to buy junk, hard to buy quality and even harder to sell anything. Now that people are used to buying on bay and places like that they don’t come into shops. They still want us for information, but, with rare exceptions, nobody buys in coin shops these days.

Somebody offered us £1,400 for a gold coin. We have it on at £1,950. So we declined. He came back with an offer of £1,500. We ignored it. Time is money and we are getting fed up of wasting time on people who are basically

picking our pockets.

We frequently get offers of less than the bullion price. My favourite ones say “I’d be happy to pay £X for this.” or variations on that theme, when X is less than we paid for it. I really want to write back and say “So would I.” but the boss won’t let me.

If I were to write a song about today I would call it The Shopkeeper’s Lament.

An enamelled crown of 1887. An under-dressed St George slays a dragon. Frankly, I don’t think boots and a cloak are the right kit for the job. I’d want a decent pair of trousers too – even if you don’t get your bits and pieces singed by dragon fire, they need protecting from chafing. And a lance would be handy too.