Monthly Archives: January 2024

On Balance, a Good Day

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When she went to the Narnia show just before Christmas this tree was still standing.

It was a slightly mixed day. I had a thousand Churchill crowns to pack. It is the 150th anniversary of his birth and various people are making plans to celebrate it. We got rid of the accumulated crowns about a year ago, but we are offered so many we had managed to build the stock up again. It’s remarkable how often they crop up, even sixty years after they were issued. This was not the most interesting aspect of the day, I have to admit. In the end I only packed 500, but the other 500 are part done. With phone calls and visitors I didn’t have enough time, which seems strange as you wouldn’t think that it would take so much time.

Snowdrops are out

I did take pictures, but decided to use some that Julia took when she went to Newstead Abbey with her group today. Several people didn’t turn up, and the gardens were cold. That meant they were able to fit everyone in the minibus and go out for a trip. One of the group managed to get a wet foot using the stepping stones but apart from that it all seems to have gone smoothly.

I also had an email. One of the submissions I sent a few days ago has met with success, the editor in question accepting two of the three tanka prose I submitted. This was a bit of a boost as I have felt under the cosh recently, being too tired to write after my various illnesses. I don’t often get two out of three accepted so it feels like a step up from my normal performance.

Fungus lurks in the stump of a felled tree – a suitable morbid subject for poetry perhaps.

Stamina, Submissions and Setting a Low Bar

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Yesterday’s post was almost finished when I decided to use it. It had been hanging about for a while, I was out of inspiration and it seemed the easiest way to post something.  Sorry about that if you were expecting another tale of my woeful life, but sometimes my old ambition to be a historian breaks out.

Meanwhile, I have completed and sent off eight submissions, and still have seven more to go in the next couple of days. It’s a busy month and I may not manage them all, but you have to have ambition. The problem is that I haven’t actually written some of them, which is a problem as it can take months to write and polish a poem. Fortunately they are mostly tanka, which aren’t that difficult. If I had to write Haibun I’d be in trouble. Editors generally ask for groups of 10 tanka, but rarely take more than one. It’s a question of space, they tell me, often adding that several of the group were usable, but they can only pick one.

That means, as far as I’m concerned, that I only need one good one, as the rest are irrelevant. And even that one doesn’t need to be brilliant, just better than one of the others selected for publication. Yes, I know it’s cynical, and I know aiming to be 49th out of 50 is setting the bar low, and has pitfalls, but I’m up against it. Three infections in the last four months have hit my stamina and my productivity.

They have also hit the size of my world. If I want inspiration all I have is the view from my window, which is mainly evergreens and pigeons, or the daily trip to work. Neither is inspiring. I’m ging to read some poetry in a minute and steal the ideas. It’s what I’ve been reduced to. But as Eliot said: ‘Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal’

Orange Parker Pen

A Year of Five Kings

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Warning – lots of words, no photos and lots of boring historical details.

The medallion in the header picture is quite small in real life, about an inch across, but it caught my eye when sifting through a junk box looking for items to fill my 20th Century Medallion Collection. The aim of that collection is to document the century by selecting 101 medallions to demonstrate aspects of history.

It is aluminium, shiny and the portrait is based on a silver penny of the time. And it was, of course, reasonably priced. One of the advantages of this collection is that I can revert to childhood and collect cheap things that catch my eye. I really bought it to fit 1965 – the 900th anniversary of Westminster Abbey (as pictured on the reverse). However, I ended up searching a story about 1066, which turned out to be more interesting.

You may have heard of the Year of the Three Kings, which is  a favourite event for modern manufacturers of commemoratives. There are far more modern medallions to commemorate it than there were contemporary ones. I can only think of one contemporary set of three medallions, but have listed at least half a dozen modern examples, even one in gold. The three Kings are George V (died 20th January 1936), Edward VIII (abdicated 11th December 1936) and George VI became King. It was a close run thing – if George had died three weeks sooner or Edward had held out three weeks longer. However, it isn’t the only time we have had more than two Kings in a year.

Go back to 1483 . . .

No, not our most notable of years, It’s mainly famous for being two years before the Battle of Bosworth in 1485. But in 1483 we had three Kings – Edward IV, Edward V and Richard III. It went like this – Edward IV died, his infant son Edward V became King, and then Richard, brother of Edward IV and uncle of Edward V seized power. Richard became King Richard III and Edward V, who was declared illegitimate by a vote of parliament (his parents being married bigamously) became one of the Princes in the Tower. Richard, of course, only lasted until 1485. Politics was a tough business back then.

And then there’s 1066.

Edward the Confessor (they had much more interesting names for Kings in those days) died on 5th January 1066. This is in the current style of dating, which starts the year on 1st January. In the old method, the new year started on 25th March (Lady Day).

The succession of Kings in 1066 was more an art than a science, and his heir, his great nephew Edgar the Atheling, was considered too young to be King in these troubled times, so the Kingship was offered to the King’s brother-in-law Harold Godwinson. This was really just a recognition of reality, as Harold would probably have taken the throne anyway. He is the second King.

The third is, according to some sources, Harold Hardrada of Norway, who landed in the Tyne late in the year, and defeated an English Army on 20th September at Fulford near York. His success didn’t last long as Harold Godwinson’s army arrived on 25th after a hard forced march, and defeated the invaders at Stamford Bridge. Harold Hardrada was killed in the battle, which brought an end to invasion, and is often seen as the end of the Viking Age.

That’s three kings. Harold marched south again and, with an army of exhausted men, faced the Normans at Hastings on 14th October. Sports stars in these effete days, complain of exhaustion if they feel they are being asked to hit too many tennis balls. In 1066 they marched North, defeated a Viking army, marched back and had a crack at the Normans.  It was a complicated series of decisions, and it led to the loss at Hastings, a battle that could have been won if Harold had shown more patience. As it was, Harold died, possibly from an arrow to the eye as the legend has it, but probably not.

Kings in those days were more than mere figureheads, as the attrition rate shows.

That left the Saxons with a decisions to make and they decided that they would now accept Edgar the Atheling as King, as they were rapidly running out of choices.  However, his support melted away and William was eventually crowned on 25th December. Edgar drifted  around, interfering in politics until he died, probably around 1125.

And that is how William the Conqueror became the 5th King of 1066.

Shortage of suitable pictures today, so I stuck with just the header picture.

 

 

 

Not Long Left

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I will be retiring in 101 days. In terms of working days that is just 56. It’s not long. It only seems like yesterday that I was making the bad decisions at school which led to the debacle that was my working life. Fortunately I have enjoyed a lot of it and and by doing things I loved I have rarely felt like it was work.

Business was slow today. There is a definite feeling that coin collecting is less popular since shops used lockdown as  an excuse for cutting down on taking cash. A number of people have brought their collections of 50p and £2 coins to sell in the shop and if they have been taken from circulation we are turning them down. There is still a small market for coins in Uncirculated condition but we are telling people to spend the others. We sometimes end up with accumulations of circulated 50p and £2 coins as part of a bigger lot and we give them out in change.

I had my letter from the Anti-coagulant Service yesterday, the glitch in my levels has worked its way through my system and I am back to normal. However, I’m still on weekly testing, which is a nuisance.

I now have 44 words to write before hitting my self-imposed target.

I have just loaded up my Kindle with the first three volumes of Anthony Powell’s A Dance to the Music of Time and, just over 150 pages in, am finding it very enjoyable. I did read a few of the books about 40 years ago but this time intend doing all twelve. I don’t really know why I haven’t got round to it before now. However, better late than never. I need to remember that at my age if I don’t do it now I may never get round to it.

So many books, so little time . . . 

Fried Rice Leftovers

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Rice, people say, is dangerous to eat as leftovers. Fortunately I had been eating it for years without being ill, so when I was told about it I already knew it was perfectly safe. All you have to do is cool it and store it in the fridge after cooking. That’s what you should do with everything, apart from the parts of a rocket. That’s because it’s not rocket science. (Add a couple of drum beats and a clash of cymbals after the punchline.) There is no advice on what to do when your kitchen is colder than the fridge, as mine often is in winter, but I’m pretty sure all options are safe at that temperature.

I’m going to look foolish if I’m suddenly seized by a bout of intestinal Armageddon (which could start in as little as 30 minutes according to the NHS website) but I will at least look thinner by the end of it, so it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Think of it as salmonella chic, rather than pale and haggard. It’s actually Bacillus Cereus rather than Salmonella but Salmonella fits better.  One of it’s side effects, according to an article I just read, is death. This is a bit strange, as I’ve never seen death listed as a side effect before. It’s usually considered to be quite serious.

Magpie in the snow

I’ve been away with the fairies this afternoon – starting with a search for the Sitwell family and continuing with Nancy Cunard and Edward Tennant, amongst others – a fine bunch of people to pass an afternoon with.

I always wonder why some people listed as war poets are on the memorial in Westminster Abbey and some aren’t. It seems unkind, after all they went through, to suggest the quality of the poetry might be the reason, particularly as some of the poets on the memorial wrote a few clunkers. I’m particularly thinking of Rupert Brooke, who is not a favourite of mine, but there are others. Here is a selection from Tennant, who is not on the memorial. He was quite clearly a brave and efficient soldier but I’m not convinced by the poetry.

Later, I slept whilst sitting at the computer and was wakened when my leg started to make a ringing sound. It was Julia ringing to tell tell me she was on her way home. She came home with hamburgers, which was nice. As a result we had soup for tea as I have to keep my calories down. It’s hard work losing weight when your wife is determined to feed you up.

Snowdrops at Ruddington

I thought I’d put some snow pictures in, as we move ever closer to the threatened February snow. We often have our worst winter weather in February so I’m not sure why snow in February is news. The December snow never arrived. Nor has the January snow, so far. I’ll be happy to avoid it in February too, as I’m happier to see it on TV than on the ground.

A Quick 250 Words

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I just woke up in front of TV and fell asleep again. Half an hour later I woke up when Julia called to see where I was. Instead of going to bed I had to go and make sandwiches. It’s not a big job in general, but in the early hours, when you want to go to bed, it’s a dreadful job.

Of course, I( then woke up and decided I ought to blog. Bad idea, but that’s what happens after you wake yourself up by making sandwiches at 2am.

Being virtuous, I didn’t make any for myself. I will come home at 1am because it’s my new half day, and I will eat the fried rice I made for tea. I made too much. Under my new weight loss regime I no longer stuff myself by eating half of all I cook, I use self-discipline to eat a proper portion and keep the rest for later.

It was good fried rice, which used several ingredients from the back of the freezer, including a block of prawns with severe freezer burn and a ball of ice and peas. We really should pay more attention to food storage.

I also solved a mystery when I discovered where Julia stores ingredients she doesn’t like. I have ordered more red lentils this week because I thought we had none, but tonight I found them, with the pearl barley, wedged behind the bread maker. She says she was just storing them, but I say it’s strange how everything there seems to be something she doesn’t like me using.

Vegetable stew with thyme

 

The Calm Before the Complaint Letter

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I’m not sure much has happened, but I have letters to write, and when I have letters to write I tend to veer into procrastination rather than jump into action.

If you recall my previous misadventures with Urology, you may recall that I went in for a minor operation, then went in for a second, which they cancelled on the grounds I hadn’t been in for the pre-operation check. I had, I had a witness to that effect, but they hadn’t processed it despite the fact that I was actually in hospital at the time. I was in hospital at the time due to the consequences of the first operation, which had not gone to plan. They even went so far as to accuse me of lying.

Next time they tried to admit me they couldn’t find a bed, a fact they only discovered after I had waited for three hours in my dressing gown.

I complained, but fell victim to the delaying tactics of the NHS complaints system. This time I am getting off the mark quicker and they will have the first complaint tomorrow, before they have had time to prepare. There seems little point in being reasonable and patient about it when they will do their best to do nothing about it.

However, as they keep pointing out, a missed hospital outpatient appointment costs £120, and the total is approximately £1 billion a year. It’s my duty to help them cut this cost by stopping them messing up again. I expect they will be grateful for my input, because doctors always love it when you correct them.

I am going to have to be careful how I phrase things as I’m hungry, and this never improves my mood. All this dieting might be good for my waist and health but it’s no good for anyone else I have to deal with.

Robin at Clumber, Nottinghamshire

A Wednesday of Mixed Fortunes

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The photos today are a robin perching on a bucket. It spent all day in the polytunnel in the MENCAP gardens yesterday and seemed quite happy to share the space with the group. The blackbird which was also in there was not comfortable and spent several minutes bouncing off the walls before escaping. That, I suppose, is why robins appear on Christmas cards and blackbirds get baked into pies.

Julia managed to get these two shots which, I think, are cheered considerably by the bucket. It’s a shame the robin didn’t pose for her, but you can’t have everything.

Today has not been conducive to deep thought. I have spoken to the central appointments people t o establish why I didn’t get my telephone appointment yesterday and, as expected, they told me that it was meant to be a face to face appointment.

“When I rang before I was told it was a telephone appointment.” I said.

“Ah, let me look. No, it was changed.”

“When?”

“Er . . .”

I summarise, but you get the general idea. It had taken me over half an hour to get connected and I was due for my blood test so I had to cut things short without getting an answer. No change there, I swear that customer services training in the NHS is 90% about not answering or incriminating yourself.

The blood test went well, so things weren’t all bad. Now we just need to see what the results look like. They weren’t good last week.

Finally, I’ve been looking at houses for sale in Country Life Magazine. Two of the week’s selection have moats. These are not just ordinary houses. I’m not sure I need a moat, as it just seems like a step too far in both gardening and Health & Safety terms. I like this one – the former home of Sir Quentin Blake, famous illustrator.

Robin on a Bucket – photo by Julia.

A Poem from Drifting Sands

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This is from Drifting Sands Issue 24. If you use the link you can view me in situ by scrolling down to Simon Wilson, or look on page 53. I’m fairly sure I haven’t posted this one before, though as we have noted, my memory is not all it used to be.

Young and old . . . and gone
Saturday afternoon. We are having a garage clear out. Two kid’s bicycles, sports kit and a
child-sized tent are piled on the ground. Garden tools, not used for years, are lined up against
the house—the leaf blower with the intermittent electrical fault, a long-handled wire brush for
weeding the gaps between paving slabs, a tool with three hooked tines . . .

Distant shouts drift from a cricket match, an Amazon driver delivers something across the
road, and magpies roam the gutters, searching for water. If they find any they scoop at it
eagerly and hold back their heads to drink. The sunshine brings out the iridescent blues and
greens in the black plumage, and lights up the falling water droplets. I decide that tea would
be a good idea. My wife sits on a camping stool and I balance on the chair with the loose leg as
we sip the hot brew. We find a box of cassette tapes. They seemed so modern at the time. She
picks out one by Ian Dury and asks if I remember that night in Sheffield. Looking at the
growing pile we wonder why we needed it, and why we kept it all this time.

the garden harvest
tomato juice runs down
my chin

 

The pictures come from May 2020 and were selected at random. I really should be more sensitive and use photos that match the poem.

Cold, Procrastinating and Reflecting on the Nature of Trousers

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From sticking my head out of bed to setting foot on the old, hard tiles of the hallway took me three hours. Most of it was, quite clearly, taken up by procrastination, though some was taken up by the need to escape from my trousers after the second leg went disastrously wrong.

You would think that after 200 years of trouser design it would be possible to design a garment that allowed an elderly man with bad knees to dress with dignity. However, it seems not.

It is cold, which always slows me down, and it is Monday. Julia now goes to work on her own on Mondays, so I don’t need to get up. And, with her not being here, I have, if I’m honest, no reason to get up.

I skipped breakfast, because it was nearly lunchtime, and am now considering skipping lunch as I am not actually hungry and managed to rewrite three poems in my head whilst messing about with socks.I need to write them down soon or they will get mixed up with the instructions for cooking meals for the next three days, which are also jostling about in there.

Corned Beef Hash with Many Vegetables, a Vegetable Stew and Sweet Potato and Chickpea Curry, in case you are wondering. The “many vegetables” are onions, leeks, parsnip, carrot, sweet potato, swede (or neep or rutabaga depending on where you live) and spinach. Not bad for a dish that used to contain just onions, potatoes and corned beef. The vegetable stew will be much the same but will have lentils (which I have to sneak in because Julia objects to them) and pearl barley but probably no spinach. Well, they can’t be identical or it looks like you aren’t trying. The curry will have sweet potato and chick peas, onions, tomatoes (tinned), spinach and rice. It seems rice counts as one of your daily portions. I also have a small orange and a small apple for lunch. For at least three days of the week I will be getting plenty of healthy vegetables.

I aim to surpass the five a day suggestion as a regular thing – we have fruit for breakfast and lunch which helps, and am now looking at ensuring we eat 30 plants a week. It’s not hard when they allow you to count coffee and spices. If I have the four meals above plus fruit, and then count tea, coffee and spices, I’m already up to about twenty.

Chorizo and Bean Stew

Chorizo and Bean Stew