Monthly Archives: April 2024

Dreams and Easy Writing

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After struggling yesterday I am feeling prolific this morning. The main difference, I think, is quality of sleep, though I may also be spurred into action today by the feeling that I wasted a day yesterday.

I also had a very strange dream last night, relating to buying cheap jeans in India, and attracting the wrath of a local gang boss for not buying his. I do not have a clue what it was about, or why I would want to break the habit of the last 40 years and start wearing jeans again. I have never been to India, have no experience of criminal gangs and, on checking, did not sleep through a programme about India, crime or jeans. It is a mystery.

Clitheroe from the castle

The one from the night before may have a meaning, however. In that one I took part in a cycle race from Mansfield to Nottingham. I was up with the leading group at one time despite the woeful lack of gears and the presence of a wicker shopping basket on my bike.

Next thing I knew, I was lost in the dark and nobody would give me directions to Clitheroe. Those of you who know about such things will doubtless wonder how I got so badly lost that I ended up around 100 miles North-West of where i wanted to be. I don’t know. Students of deep psychological stuff may wonder how my journey veered from being within a few miles of my current home to ending up desperately searching for one of my favourite childhood homes.

Me, I’m wondering why I was a on a bike. I’m not built for either cycling or Lycra. Particularly Lycra.

Now, I suppose, I should grapple with the NHS again, as previously discussed, and see about rebooking that appointment.

Bin raiding squirrel at Clitheroe Castle.

The New and Improved NHS System

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A Discussion on New Technology

I just had to cancel a blood test appointment. It was my fault as I’m trying to carry details of too many things in my head at one time. They rang me in the evening while I was snoozing, woke me, gave me results, arranged a new test date and then left me to wake up. It wasn’t until later that my brain oozed into action and I realised I’d just agreed to an appointment I couldn’t attend. They have a new system at the GP where you use a new internet system to book appointments. The only problem is that amongst all the NHS clutter of various systems and apps I can’t find it. I think I did eventually find the right link but there may be a delay in conforming my ID and when I do get signed up I may have to wait two working days for action. As the appointment is on Wednesday I can’t wait two working days.

Photo by Anna Shvets on Pexels.com

In the end I rang to talk to a receptionist. After all, with this new system all the phone lines will be free won’t they? Ha ha. I was, at 8.58, number 16 in the queue. So much for that. So I went on the old online system and cancelled the appointment. I can’t book a new appointment online as there are none for three weeks, but if I ring up for an INR test they will fit me in next week. They don’t seem to have accounted for INR tests with the online system. I mean, why would you? If you are spending millions on software you wouldn’t bother getting it right, would you?

I’m getting the idea that our old friend, the “New and Improved” system is back and, as usual, only one of the two things. As this one isn’t “Improved” it must merely (as so often) be “New”.

Has anybody else tried it? If you have, can you tell me how it is an improvement on “the app”, which I never used, and how this was an improvement on the SystmOnline set-up, which I still use (despite the trendy mis-spelling). And, of course, is any of this expensive technology an improvement on ringing and speaking to a receptionist?

Photo by FOX on Pexels.com

I thought I’d finish on a cat to calm myself down . . .

In Demand

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I’ve just had to write to my GP and tell them that due to time constraints I’m not able to drop everything and go down for a drugs review with their pet pharmacist. It’s another “new toy” scenario, ever since they decided to employ a pharmacist they have been using him more and more. I’ve been with the same practice for 36 years and they have had a pharmacist for about three of them. In that three years I have had more needless and useless hassle than I did in the preceding 33, Yea, I take more pills than I used to, but I don’t take substantially more than I did six years ago. Years 1-3, no problem. Years 4-6, various tinkering and other annoyance from the pharmacist and several problems including being bullied into taking pills that do no good.

I am on the point of telling them that they are demanding so much of my time that they really should think of putting me on the payroll. I’ve already hinted about an invite to the Christmas Party but so far they have ignored me.

There will no doubt be repercussions.

Yesterday, as has become usual, I couldn’t park outside my house because of the builders opposite. I couldn’t back into the drive either, because, for the second day in a row, they were parked across the drive. I took photos this time, just in case. When I went to move the car later I checked the debris they had left in my parking space and retrieved three nails. I was not happy. So I went across to the neighbour who is having the new roof, picked up a fourth nail on the way, and asked him if he could let them know I’d like them to be more careful in future. I don’t need a puncture.

Today I got back from work. Fortunately it is the final day. They were parked across the drive again. They left and I went out to move the car. More debris, including a block of wood with a nail sticking out of it. It’s almost like they are trying to be comical.

The neighbour tells me that the people on either side of him have already complained about hem too. They have asked several of us if we’d like a quote for a new roof and we’ve all declined. Apart from the fact I don’t need a new roof, because this one is only 96 years old, why would I put thousands of pounds into the hands of people who can’t park properly or clear up after themselves.

Perfectly good US Silver Eagle coin defaced with a sticker of Elvis Presley.  You can see the outline of the walking liberty under the sticker if you look hard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don’t have a picture of one as it should look, but here is a link. It’s not such an elegant depiction as some of the older ones, but it’s far better when it isn’t defaced by a garish sticker.

 

 

There Will Be Blood (Again)

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The internet outage on Sunday seems to hve reset my computer and I am now conducting searches with Bing. This is rather like trying to sew in boxing gloves, as whatever you want to do is marred by the unsuitable and clumsy equipment. I’m not happy, but despite several attempts I have been unable to restore Google as my default browser. I follow the instructions to a certain point then . . .

I seem to be a few buttons short of a full set. Yes, you can take this as a comment on my computer and may lack of computer skills if you like. I suspect another chapter in the history of my feud with Microsoft.

Yesterday was notable in that it was a day when I exposed my genitalia to a man to whom I had not been formally introduced. He was a doctor and it was by appointment so I suppose it was fair enough, though it never seems quite right as an activity unless accompanied by beer and rugby songs.

Photo by ThisIsEngineering on Pexels.com

Today I had a blood test. Two holes, three bottles. The first hole produced a few drops in the tube, but when the nurse took the needle out it bled all over her hand and my arm, so there was plenty there, it was just refusing to cooperate.  I think even my veins hate me. They have already rung me with the woeful results. The ineptitude of the Coagulation team means that once again I am reduced to weekly blood tests because they can’t get it right.

I am doing everything they ask in an attempt to escape from their grip, but it’s not working. It’s very difficult to have confidence in a department that insists on giving me the same dose and being surprised when it doesn’t alter the required result. I’m currently blow the range, as I was last week, and they are giving me the same dose as last week. If it didn’t produce a change last week, why will it produce one this week. I’m giving it a couple of weeks and then, when I retire and have the time to spare, will start taking action.

I’m currently holding back on my complaint about Urology, because they are being efficient at the moment, and because they have the power to conduct a prostate exam if I wind them up too much. The worst the Coagulation team cam do ts stick a needle in me, and they are doing that anyway.

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Gold £2 Coin 1995 End of WW2 Reverse

A New Day, and the Same Old Phone Calls

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Gibraltar £20 Coin 2016

I worked today because I’m having tomorrow off to go to the Urology Department. I look forward to these visits more than I do the dentist but less than most other things. Tomorrow is unlikely to rate higher than “Could Do Better” in the Great Book of Life.

Today wasn’t an outstandingly successful day either, though it beats having to take your trousers down for the doctor.

Dylan Thomas £5 coin Alderney

We had an above average number of calls about “rare” coins. None of them qualified for that description, apart from a Maundy set.  Unfortunately, the set had been badly treated in life, finally ending up at a recycling facility.  This is one of the worst sets we have ever had, and comes with one of the strangest stories. That’s really what coin collecting is about – the stories. As four bits of metal a Maundy set is quite dull. Add the story of Royal Maundy and it starts to come to life. Then throw in the story about it being retrieved from a bin and it almost becomes an epic . . .

OK, maybe “epic” is overdoing it.

Coin of Cabinda

I have found the contact details for the Numismatic Society in Peterborough (definitely the one in Cambridgeshire rather than Ontario) so I will have something to do when we move. Julia, for some reason, doesn’t seem as keen on joining as I am. I may have to buy her a cross-stitch kit so she has something to do while I’m out. The devil makes work for idle hands and if I leave her too long she is bound to move something and I won’t be able to find it next time I need it. Edit – I seem to have originally written “ideal hands”. 

Penguins on Falklands 50p coin

 

I’m Relaxed – It Must Be Sunday

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My favourite pastime

After breakfast, which is much more of a brunch for us on Sundays, Julia went to the shop and I went to the computer. I have a number of projects in progress.

Then the internet went down. After panic and bad language and restarting and resetting and switching on and off, it occurred to me that nothing was going to help. Even though I’m a dinosaur I do rely on the internet for a lot of things. My intention as to sort out my collection of miniature medals, including going back through various auction archives. That way, when I come to sell them, or go into as home, or a coffin, Julia and the kids will have some idea of value.

Louis XVI 2 Sols 1793

I should have been doing this from the beginning, but I am notoriously bad at being organised.

But I needed the internet, so ended up, grumpily, reading about eels instead. I don’t know if |I told you, but a poetry editor I had been chatting to online sent me a copy of a book on eels last week. That’s why I prefer editors of haibun to editors of conventional poetry.

Then Julia came back. All the tills had been down at the shop. It looks like another of the computer crashes we seem to be having. I suspect the Russians or the Iranians, or both. One day every computer in the country will go down and we will be unable to shop. So many places dislike cash these days and everyone under 30 seems to rely on electronic payments – it will be a disaster. Riots, looting and the eternal whining of Gen Z telling us it just isn’t fair because they can’t buy food or discuss Moldovan handbags online , , ,

On Friday I think I may have forgotten to tell you that I gave 40 books away. It’s a start and is, I confess, a very thin end of the wedge. There’s a lot more to do.

Help, get me out of here!

Today I looked at more books and moved them round then parcelled up a few odds and ends to take to charity. I is about two bags of stuff, which sounds impressive until I admi ta6 one bag is taken up with a large soft hamster that I used as a hand warmer this winter. Julia bought it from a charity shop as a joke, so it can now go back and go round again. I’m hoping that next winter i will handle my pills better and will have better heating.

I’m cooking tea now and will then force myself to complete a couple of bags of books for banishment.

Blossom at Wilford

Photos are a miscellany from April 2019.

Pictures of Birds

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Male Reed Bunting

I decided to make the theme of today’s photos “Unusual Birds on Bird Tables”, Unfortunately I then realised that the Reed Buntings are both pictured feeding on the ground. I am sure I have shots of them on the feeders somewhere, but I can’t find them.

Female Reed Bunting

My day was marred by two things. One was missing out a book we were supposed to send. The other was dropping a cap badge on the floor during packing, and not spotting it until I’d sent the rest of them off.

The problem is the volume of phone calls. We have had a lot today and each one has stopped me working, even if it’s only a few minutes. The real problem is that each one seems to wipe your memory and you find yourself forgetting what you were doing. I ended up making several mistakes – all associated with phone calls. Well, apart from the cap badge, that was just carelessness.

Pheasant on bird table

I think I’ll leave the birds to complete the blog now. They are more interesting than listening to me ramble on.

Nuthatch

It’s time for bed now, and I’m tired. I really should have written this sooner, as I’m now just searching for words to make the numbers up. We were lucky when we worked on the farm, as the mixed habitat provided a rich variety of birds. I should really have kept a list while we were there. To be fair we ddin’t get Moorhens, Pheasants or Nuthatches on the feeders – I just got carried away and included some shots from Rufford Abbey.

Greater Spotted Woodpecker

However, that would have involved decisions. We had plenty of regular visitors to the area around the Ecocentre, that never used the feeders. Green Woodpeckers fed on the lawn at the front, a Spotted Flycatcher used the grove of trees at the back and we had Buzzards and Kestrels over the field behind the feeders, though never closer than 50-100 yards. We also had House Martins and Swallows picking up mud to build nests, but rarely feeding in the area. It’s easier to leave things vague in many cases, so you can include as much as possible.

Redpoll on the Ecocentre feeder

To Beard or Not to Beard?

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Soldiers in the British Army are now allowed to wear beards, Prior to this only Pioneer Sergeants and a few other soldiers such as Pipe Majors and Goat Majors (oh yes, military tradition is  grand thing) had been allowed to wear beards for the last 100 years or so. Until WW1 moustaches were theoretically compulsory, but an influx of young soldiers made this impractical. There are, of course, good reasons for a lack of facial hair, the main one being that gas masks won’t seal on bearded faces.

The Regimental Mascot of the Mercian Regiment (which used to be the Sherwood Foresters, our local regiment) is a Ram rather than a Goat and he has, in these pictures, smooth-chinned handlers, but I decided that we should stay local. The Goat of the Royal Welsh Fusiliers is much more impressive. Our Ram is Lance Corporal Derby XXXII – one of a line of 32 mascots dating back to the 1860s. Actually, I just noticed their Goat major is clean-shaven, I may have been misinformed about beards, but it is always good to get Regimental mascots into a post.

The reason for this change is simply that recruiting is becoming more difficult and beards are in fashion. I do have personal experience of beards and recruitment – when I moved to Nottingham I began the process of  joining the Special Constabulary, but it was at the time the then Chief Constable decided that he didn’t want bearded Specials. As a result, and having had my beard for about eight years by then, I decided to keep the beard and use my spare time for something less civic-minded.

The policy on tattoos was recently relaxed too, for similar reasons.

I could go on to be political, but I won’t. I just thought that I should mark the day that the British Army decided to let soldiers wear beards.

Photos Courtesy of the MoD.

 

 

Another Senior Moment/Forgotten Title

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Julia, South Pier, Lowestoft, Suffolk

The day started with porridge, fruit and toast. I’m really trying to give toast up on weekdays but Julia keeps making it. Eventually, I suppose, I will have to start refusing it, but I like toast and I don’t like to waste food. I could, I suppose, just scrape off the marmalade but without marmalade there is little point in toast so I may as well just give it up. Really it’s just a delivery system to facilitate the eating of melted bitter, cheese or marmalade. Nobody I know would want a piece of dry toast, though if any of you, I’d be happy to know.

It continued with a trip to the dentist to drop Julia off, followed by a twenty minute interlude writing notes in the car park at the surgery before it was time for my blood test. This went well – two attempts on one arm with no success, but the first attempt on the second arm struck blood and we soon had three full tubes. It was a big day today, I had a special envelope from my last trip to Rheumatology and that needed two tubes. It had red writing on it, so it must be important. I got weighed while I was there. I’ve lost 8 lbs in the last eight weeks. Not spectacular, but a useful loss. No stupid diet, just ate a little less. I make no grandiose claims, and may yet disappoint myself, but at this point I am happy with this loss.

Julia on the patio

I’m writing this to the accompaniment of whistling, clattering scaffolding and the low annoyance of a radio. Yes, it’s building season again. The young couple next door are having something done, though I don’t know what. They are always having something done. The people diagonally across the road are having a loft extension. I sometimes wonder why people buy houses in this street if they need so much changing.

Julia just rang. She just bought an advance ticket for her Canada trip. Nottingham to Norwich and then on to London is just £28. Yes, £28. She was amazed. The man in the ticket office was so surprised he double checked it. It seems that there’s an offer on. At least part of the Canada trip is going to be cheap. She’s on her way home from town now. I am going to do the washing up. Then I expect we will sit in the front room, watch TV and (in my case) nap. There are worse ways to spend my time.

Love Locks at Bakewell

 

 

Plans and Problems

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I finally sat down and worked out my leaving date. I have six full days and two half days to go. It’s still slightly flexible as one of the others has to go to a funeral and I might be doing an extra day to provide cover. It’s a relief to get it sorted.

This week I work as normal (if a 3 1/2 day week is “normal”), the week after I do a normal week but swap days to work Monday, which allows me to go for my Urology consultation on Tuesday. That is going to require my best underwear and a stiff upper lip. Then The week after, I will do one or two days, depending on the need for cover and the rest is holiday.

I will lead a modest existence in retirement, but it won’t actually be a step down from my current wages, with the added benefit that I don’t have to do anything to get paid.

Julia, Sutton-on-Sea

To be honest, my poor pension planning has been a matter of regret over the last few years, as has my lack of career planning, and the general wasteland that is my life in retrospect. Still, it’s too late to worry now so I’m going to concentrate on enjoying what remains.

It seems that when I move I will have to have a new rheumatology consultation, and will have to arrange for a bulk lot of pills, because the new practice won’t prescribe any until I’ve been seen by a specialist. As we have seen in the past, a few weeks off the pills leads to crippling disability for months, so I’m not keen on that. I had naively thought the prescription would just carry on. So much for the concept of health care being national.

So, with one set of problems resolved, another set heaves into view, and  life’s rich pageant rolls on in all it’s lumpy glory.

Julia – looking sophisticated in Bakewell

It is, of course, possible that regular readers may have seen my photos before and assumed I was already retired. Julia says it isn’t going to be easy to tell when I stop work . . .