Monthly Archives: January 2024

Good Intentions and Old Photos

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As usual, my attempts at industry were not successful. The dining room is too cold for creativity and I decided to bide my time and let a creative maelstrom brew as I waited. It didn’t happen.

I watched two episodes of Murder She Wrote which I don’t seem to have seen before, which is remarkable when you think of the number I have watched, then watched a film on Amazon. It’s called “Belonging” and it features Brenda Blethyn, Kevin Whately, Peter Sallis and Anna Massey. It’s a good cast, it lasts 90 minutes, and not much happens. Despite the lack of action it’s a pleasant enough way to waste an hour and a half.

Trinity Bridge, Crowland

We finished off then banana bread and Christmas cake as we watched.

I can smell potato wedges cooking as I write this, and I will shortly be doing the rest of the meal, which is going to be meatballs in tomato sauce. It’s not an ambitious meal, but it will fit in with the rest of the day. I was originally going to do mashed vegetables with it, including mashed potatoes with herbs. As darkness fell, I felt my ambitions subside too.

Tomorrow is going to be the first day of the new working hours where I have Monday off.  Not sure what I am going to do, as Julia will be at work. I may well go to the park and visit the duck pond. While I’m there I may have a coffee and take some photos as I gather creativity to process into poetry. Or I may stay at home and potter around, pretending to be active.

I have sorted a few books out, with the intention of giving some away, but have merely redistributed most of them. There are about 50 piled up in the living room and ten in a bag to go. When I started I had hoped it would be the other way round. I have set myself a target of getting rid of around 50 items a week as part of the moving process. I am going to have to up my game. I am not paying to move thousands of things to a new location so they can clutter up my life again.

Trinity Bridge, Crowland. The streams have dried up but the bridge still stands.

Photos are from Crowland. We haven’t visited for a while.

Writing Poetry – the Nuts and Bolts

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Orange Parker Pen

I got into my car at16.00 precisely tonight. Traffic was light and I arrived home at 16.11. After allowing myself to dwell on the years 1600 – 1611, where the reign of Elizabeth I gave way to the reign of James I (or James VI if you prefer the Scottish version). Our recent change from Elizabeth II to Charles III has shown little change, but the earlier change was more dramatic. We had witch trials thanks to James, the Gunpowder Plot and attempts to unite England and Scotland. As usual, there is a lot of history, and not enough time to do it justice. In an ideal world I would have taken to my book-lined study and immersed myself in Jacobean history.

Instead, I had tea and banana bread and chatted to Julia, which was an excellent substitute.

We had chickpea and sweet potato curry for tea, as planned, and practiced being retired – sitting round the fire making dull conversation about our day and watching TV. I think we are getting the hang of it and will probably enjoy it.

In the next two weeks I have to write twenty seven tanka, 10 haiku and 13 Haibun/Tanka Prose. Fortunately I have fifteen Haibun/Tanka Prose that are almost finished. I’m trying to do bit on them each night. The tanka are not as far advanced, but I’m getting through them. I really need to get out and get some inspiration. That is planned for Monday. Under the new arrangements I have Mondays off. It’s just that every time I am ill, I seem to stop writing and it takes a while to get things moving again.

I think I’m back on the right track again, but it takes a surprising time to turn things round. I keep thinking of the effort of manoeuvring a large modern ship.

February will be quite a light month, so if I can get January out of the way it looks like all will be well. It’ quite  way from the inspiration/art/creativity model, but without this sort of planning nd framework I would find it har to do anything. Inspiration rarely strikes – it’s hard work that produces the goods.

My Orange Parker Pen

 

17 Saturdays

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Sausage and Egg McMuffin. They know the secret to attract fat people. Why doesn’t someone reverse it?

A quick count indicates I have 17 Saturdays to work before I retire. I may  start a Saturday Series to mark their passing. Or, as usual, I may talk about starting a series and do nothing about it. Who can tell?

The irony is not lost on me. I started off with  Saturday job, I have ended up with one. Working Saturdays is one of those things that tells you success has eluded you.

Julia has just come down and offered me toast. I was going to leave, but the lure of toast is too strong, despite my commitment to losing weight. If I remove six slices of toast and marmalade from my diet each week, it is around 1,500 calories, which is a lot of calories. If I don’t remove them, I enjoy toast and marmalade, though some of it may be rushed and the rest may be spoiled by guilt. It’s a balancing act, but on Saturdays the toast tends to win.

My recommended daily calorie intake is 2,500 calories. If I want to lose a pound a week they recommend 2,100. Taking out the toast and marmalade and a few more tweaks (no more second sandwich for lunch) should do the trick.

It sounds so easy.

If only . . .

What these diets don’t include is the sitting at work feeling bored and eating that single sandwich for elevenses. What happens then? Dieting is about more than simply cutting back on food, or we would all do it.

In retirement I may concentrate on making meals from cardboard. That should do the trick – zero calories, no enjoyment, plenty of fibre and chewing. What more could you want? I suppose there must be more to it than that or we would all be doing it. On the other hand, having just had a bowl of bran flakes I am left with the impression that it would have been much the same if I’d just cut the packet into small squares and forced them down.

Other breakfasts are available, or not, in the case of the much missed Olympic Breakfast. Other waistlines, and coronaries, are also available.

Olympic Breakfast – much mourned

Like Cookery, but with More Swearing and Less Finesse

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I spent the afternoon cooking after I blogged. We now have a sweet potato and chickpea curry and a corned beef hash with mixed vegetables. neither reflects much credit on me as a cook, but at least we have two evening meals available.

The curry, with chickpeas, sweet potato and onions, also has a tin of chopped tomatoes in it. Served with rice, that will take care of the five a day. Since I discovered rice is allowed as one of the five a day, I have been quite excited.  I always assumed that like potatoes, rice was excluded. If garlic counts, it will be six. I’m going to start concentrating on my vegetables a bit more.

The hash contains carrot, parsnip, sweet potato and potato. It will have leeks too, when I put it all together. I’m considering serving it with cabbage to boost it to five. And corned beef. I like corned beef in a hash. At one time I just used to do it with potatoes and onions, but even I have moved with the times.

I was going to do a vegetable stew as well but I ran out of clean pans. It’s the same ingredients as the hash, but I add garlic and a stock cube. I will do it later in the week.

Then, in a few days time, we will be looking at soup – probably curried vegetable soup.

When I retire, I intend batch cooking one or two days a week and just warming stuff up on the other days. It’s so much simpler and it avoids the temptation to get a takeaway. This is bad, bot6h on the grounds of economy, and the grounds of health. Having lost two stone (or 28lbs for you Americans) whilst ill, I want to keep it off this time, as I’m feeling so much better.

Iranian Vegetable Stew – one of Julia’s recipes

Afternoon Off

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There’s something beguiling about the idea of having the afternoon off while other people are still at work. However, on a grey January afternoon, the enchantment doesn’t last long. Once spring arrives I will probably feel different.

Of course, once spring arrives, I will retire, and every afternoon will be free.

Duck – Arnot Hill Park

I thought of where I could go, but so many places are now closed to me. We were unhappy with Clumber Park the last few times we visited – what seemed like deliberately poor service in the cafe several times, then a somewhat overbearing attendant (not for the first time at a National Trust property) – so after lockdown we decided not to renew. It will therefore cost me £5 to visit. It’s not really worth it for the limited use I can make out of it. Seems to me to be discriminatory – free to pedestrians and cyclists but £5 to a man with bad knees who needs to use a car. It would be £10 if Julia was with me. If we ever go again, I may make her get out and walk.

The same goes for other places – paying where car parking used to be free, and in one case, demolition of the car park to allow for the building of a new, less convenient, visitor centre. I realise that things are never really “free” but it’s discouraging when you re looking for somewhere to go. If I could still spend an hour or two walking it would be OK, but for the distance I can now do, it doesn’t seem like good value.

Mandarin Duck – Arnot Hill Park

When you also add my disinclination to mingle with people, it’s all very discouraging.

Back to Work

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Sherwood, Nottingham

I could have put it off for a few more days, but I am nearly back to normal and as Julia is no longer on holiday life at home is quite boring. If I had lots of energy I could do things, but as I am still quite tired all I do is drape myself on the furniture and stare at the computer or the TV. It’s OK, but it’s not really a good way to spend the day.

The truth is that if I felt this way in normal times, I wouldn’t even think of having a day off work. I have a sniff and a cough, feel washed out but am generally fine and able to get to work. However, having had three weeks of serious breathing problems, I’m a little more wary. But you have to go back some time.

It ws a gentle reintroduction to work. One person had ordered two things over night and then, a minute later, cancelled. Four others had ordered and paid for items. One more had ordered three things and wanted to know what the combined postage was. By 10.30, they were all ready, and the coffee was on the desk.

Sunset in Nottingham

By early afternoon, as I entered items onto eBay, I was bored. It happens. My camera, despite being turned up to “Vivid” was producing photos with a yellow cast – making white things look cream.  I found the black & white setting (which I had lost) whilst looking for adjustments to the colour. I also secured an ASDA delivery slot and ordered the basics, and checked out the details for applying for a free bus pass. I want to do this as soon as possible so I can use it while it’s still possible to use the trams for free. The Council is thinking of stopping this, as they have to pay the tram company and are currently looking to make budget cuts.

It is convenient for visiting the treatment centre at Queen’s Medical (which accounts for two of the three tram journeys I have taken). If I can get free travel I will make it a project to visit every tram stop on the network before we leave Nottingham. To be fair, at £5.30 for an all day ticket, I will probably do the trip even if I have to pay. Where else can you fill a day for £5.30?

Sunset over Basford, Nottingham

Pictures are general Nottingham shots.

So Much to Do, So Little Time

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Wooden Water Vole at Carsington

Woke up. Tested air temperature with tip of nose. Pulled three layers of duvet up around my face and went back to sleep. It is my final day of loafing, or recuperation, as I call it, and I see no advantage to getting up earlier than I have to.

Eventually I emerged, ate the beans on cheese on toast that Julia had prepared, ate the toast and marmalade she had made me for breakfast (the oranges are part of my five a day) and watched TV for a while.

It was Four in a Bed. After watching many episodes I can’t help wishing I had run a Bed & Breakfast instead of messing around as an antique dealer, gardener, pizza maker, shop assistant . . .

To be fair, it looks quite simple to run a B&B. Slightly more difficult to do it well, but isn’t that always the case?

Wooden Dragon at Carsington

I also wonder if we have finally run out of things to watch on TV if the best we have to offer is a programme on competitive hospitality. However, the best episodes are the ones which feature the human condition, such as the one today where one of the owners gave everyone a hard time, kept repeating that “the customer is always right” and repeatedly told us about his confidence and his high standards. Yes, you guessed it. His standards were not as high as he thought, anyone who criticised him was wrong and he eventually threw a hissy fit. I don’t like to see people being made unhappy. On the other hand, when they are the cause of their own unhappiness, it’s good TV. Shakespeare would have written it better, but the tragedy was there for all to see.

In truth, I spent too much time watching TV, and by the time I had rung the doctor to make a blood test appointment and book a COPD review, it was getting late. For those of you wondering when I got COPD, I’m not actually sure of that myself. It was mentioned as a cause of my problems, but until I had a text to book the review, I had no idea myself. I can’t wait until I get something serious and they let me know by sending me a link to the local hospice.

Then I had to arrange for the garage near the shop to supply a new tyre tomorrow. They are very good and will collect the car from the shop, do the job and return the car. Brilliant service for a man with a bad knee and a lazy disposition.

Finally, I rang for a taxi. It was a bit later than I had intended, but I still had time. Rang at 3.15, allow 10 minutes for a taxi, ten minutes for travel, ten minutes to walk from the entrance to X-Ray department – arrive five minutes before the appointment. It was probably better than my original plan of ringing at 3am, as they don’t want you cluttering the place up. Well, it would have been if the taxi firm had managed to send a taxi.

I’ve been using them for 30 years, since they were the local company. They have bigger offices now, a number of sign-written cars and a much more complicated phone system. If only the level of service was as good as it used to be.

Wooden Wizard and Dragon at Carsington

After 15 minutes I had an automated call to tell me they were doing their best. I rang to check what was happening and was told that they would be with me as soon as possible but the roads were crowded because it was “rush hour”. Well, it may get slightly busier, but unless you are on the ring road it’s not precisely a rush hour. And even if it was, it should hardly be a surprise.

Eventually, Just as I was preparing to ring the hospital, my car arrived.

I hate being late. I particularly hate being late when I allow  plenty of time for the trip.  The driver explained it was because of the amount of traffic. This would have been more convincing if there had been any traffic about.

Anyway, after a sit down in the waiting area, where I was able to view some interesting specimens of humanity, I had an X-Ray. That was interesting, as the radiologist bombarded me with questions about the amount of metal I may be wearing.

I took off my jacket (with zip), unhooked my glasses from the neck of my jumper, confirmed I had nothing in my pockets and that I didn’t wear jewellery, and heard her ask the next question . . .

Owl Sculpture – Harlow Carr

Did I have any underwear containing metal or underwiring?

Clearly they have some colourful characters going for X-Rays.

Pictures all contain the word “car” in the title. I was looking for cars to represent rush hour traffic. I clearly need a new system.

Owl Sculpture – Harlow Carr

Blog, Think, Eat Sausages

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A Seasonal Robin

When I started this blog I was afraid that it would be another one that just fizzled out. However, unlike the previous ones I did have something to write about every day as life at Quercus Community unfolded.

The other thing was that I wasn’t sure that people would want to read about what I was doing. How dare I, I asked myself, expect that people would find my daily activities interesting?

Well, after writing over 3,000 posts, I think we can agree that I managed to keep going. The other thing, I still wonder. I seem to be attracting 30 or 40 people a day to have a look at what I’m writing, and I still can’t understand that. My life is still dull and pointless, probably even more than when I started the blog. However, my modesty and reticence have disappeared. I used to worry about boring people, but these days I couldn’t care less. This is me, I’m happy to blether on about my tedious life and if you are happy to read about it you are welcome.

Today’s main thought is that I wish I’d been braver as a young man and led a more interesting life. I let a lot of adventures and opportunities slip by and, in playing safe, always seemed to end up with something that was second best. That doesn’t apply to Julia, before anyone mentioned it. I did well there and still don’t know how I managed it. I suppose I was quite brave in that case.

I have another brave decision to make now – ASDA or TESCO. ASDA (Walmart for those of you in USA) is cheaper, but the food quality is not always as good.  TESCO is more expensive, the service isn’t quite as good, but it is possible to eat their sausages, where I always feel that I wouldn’t eat ASDA sausages unless they paid me. That’s the false economy zone – you can buy good sausages from ASDA but they cost more. I’m sure supermarkets have quite large departments to make sure this sort of thing happens, so the customer never quite knows what to do.

If I save £10 on shopping I can use it towards an on-line poetry course and learn to write like Carol-Anne Duffy. If I shop at TESCO, on the other hand, I know that I can trust the economy sausages, which means we will have a good meal and can slice the rest for sandwiches. To be honest, I like sausage sandwiches and Carol-Anne Duffy does a decent job without me imitating her, so it looks like sausages win over culture. It won’t be the first time.

Sausages on the farm

The Second Post

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Yes, I admit that the cracking of the plaits suggests i should have proved it a bit longer.

The second post of the day. This is the first. I must be getting better. On the other hand, I’m not that much better as some writing and a little physical activity (very little!) has left me feeling quite tired. I have walked to the kitchen and back a couple of times, lifted a couple of cups of tea and walked round the car talking to the man who came to change my tyre.

Yes, it’s got to the stage where I can no longer change a tyre for myself. It first happened  few years ago when we were visiting the Lakes. I managed most of it, but the actual getting up off the floor was a bit tricky. Since then I have used my breakdown insurance a couple of times to have tyres changed. They don’t seem to mind, though I expect it will be reflected in the price somewhere along the line.

And then, according to WP, ten hours passed.

Julia returned in that time. We both fell asleep in front of the TV. We looked at the floods on the news and agreed it was a good thing that we lived on a hill rather than the side of the Trent.  Generally speaking it was a dress rehearsal for retirement. I’m sure I could get used to this.

Unfortunately it was spoilt by my lack of energy. She has looked after me all through the holidays as I have lain there like a beached whale, and she hasn’t had a lot of rest. Despite my good intentions today, I was unable to do anything useful in the kitchen and I am now feeling guilty. I really must look at some recipes and try to do some cooking tomorrow, even if it is just vegetable stew.

I could even use some of the veg to make a hash tomorrow night, have the others as stew on Wednesday night and then make soup from anything that remains.

Is this what old age is – an inability to change your own tyres and the need to plan in advance for a simple stew?

Photographs of bread are offered as proof that (I was once able to cook after a fashion.

A Doctor Calls

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I had a call from a doctor this morning. They were following up on a letter about my blood test results and wanted to discuss things I had already spoken to someone about on Friday. I manged to work this subtly into the conversation and things became a little more productive when they read the notes of my last three visits.

Long-tailed tit – the bumbarrel of John Clare’s poetry

They were worried about my low iron levels. This is the second conversation I have had on my iron levels, so I’m beginning to worry about them too. The problem isn’t the actual iron levels, it’s that I don’t actually know what they do. They might be very important. In fact, as I’ve had two phone calls about them, they probably are.

Symptoms include –

  • tiredness and lack of energy (which I already have – I’ve been poorly)
  • shortness of breath (ditto)
  • noticeable heartbeats (heart palpitations) (this is why I take Warfarin)
  • pale skin (I’m white English, I work indoors, it’s winter)

All in all, not a very impressive bunch of symptoms, and not very distinctive. Fortunately I was able to isolate the likely cause by reference to my notes (which the doctor opened up when I explained what was happening). When I originally had the cough that started all the problems, I was aware that the violence of the coughing could cause pulled muscles, so I was very careful. Unfortunately I seem to have done a lot of coughing at night and tore some abdominal muscles, which hurt quite badly for several days. In this time, partly due to my ingestion of Warfarin, my torso turned into one big bruise. It’s fading now, but it must have taken quite a lot of blood to make it. And with that blood, is a lot of iron.

Fortunately the underlying levels of iron in my body seem fine. This is probably due to high levels of sprouts during Christmas and broccoli at all times because Julia likes it. When I go for blood tests in about a month they will test again.

I had overnight oats for lunch, because i got up so slowly, and am now looking at my list of jobs. Several of them involve using the phone. One of them involves using the phone and being able to take an incoming call. This means once I do that one I can’t ring out again until I have the answering call. That was another thing I didn’t think of when I decided to have the landline taken out.

Merganser – a winter visitor to our southern levels

The header picture is a male gadwall – our dullest, greyest duck.