Monthly Archives: August 2024

If I could spell reminiscence I’d use it in this title

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Poppy

Today’s work – dropped Julia off at work, made two abortive phone calls to the dentist, wasting half an hour hanging on, booked a flu jab, did 400 words on baseball in Derbyshire (it should ideally have been more like 300 but to paraphrase Mark Twain, I didn’t have time to write less), wrote five clunky tanka and made cheese on toast for lunch.

It’s  little more like a proper working day than recent days have been, but it will go in the could do better column of the ledger, where it will fit in nicely with the rest of my life.

Oh, I did half an hour on an Open Learning Unit too, but that’s not going to make a lot of difference. Actually, I also cleaned up my computer a bit, shifting files around and deleting some rubbish. It’s not suddenly become better organised, but it’s a bit less likely to bring on feelings of despair when I look at it.

I’ve also ordered rechargeable AAA batteries and a charger. None of my chargers will fit that size, they re all for AA and various configurations of camera battery. When people look back in years to come, will they wonder why we made so many chargers and cables? At least we have fewer choices in cables these days. In the past I bought of adapters, about six, I think it was, to ensure we could always charge our phones.

Hoverfly on Welsh Poppy

Hoverfly on Orange Poppy

The batteries themselves are manufactured without harmful chemicals, and by the time we’ve had them a few years will have repaid the initial cost. We only use them in the TV remote control and my illuminated magnifying glass but even so, we use about eight a year. It’s difficult to tell, but I think I’ve reduced my carbon footprint with this choice.

Do you remember the days when you used to have to get up and walk to the TV if you wanted to change channels? On my desk I have a laptop, a mobile phones and two digital cameras. Thirty years ago I was daydreaming of buying an Amstrad word processor, had a pager issued by work and had to have film developed (which took a week and always resulted in disappointment).

Times have changed.

On the other hand, we are on the verge of war with Russia, worried about having an actor of pensionable age in the White House ( though with hindsight he looks like a safe pair of hands), and were seriously concerned about drug use in the Olympics.

Perhaps  less has changed than I thought . . .

Poppy and chamomile

What Goes Around . . .

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Well, I did the washing up and I had a few vegetables with my lunch. That was the high point. I’ve done some interesting reading on water works in 1914 (and the fear of Germans poisoning our water supply), and the Suffragette bombing campaign of 1912-14. That came up because they attacked a canal and two reservoirs in their bombing campaign – if successful, both of them would have resulted in serious disruption, and probably loss of life. That was the thing about the Suffragettes – very few of their bombs actually went off. Considering that they used nitro-glycerine for some of them it’s a miracle nobody was killed.

Some of the early efforts at direct action were things like disrupting meetings, smashing windows and changing the flags on golf courses to display suffragette colours. They must have been irksome if your shop window was one of the smashed ones. Churchill was attacked by a woman with a horse whip However, they did go beyond that, and in 1909 a returning officer ws blinded in one eye by acid and the Liberal Agent badly burned on the neck at the Bermondsey by-election. In 1914 the Rokeby Venus was vandalised (by a Canadian who would later join Moseley’s British Union of Fascists – make what you like of that).  It was attacked again in  2023 . by Just Stop Oil – someone would tell them it’s already been done.

However, by the time the bombing campaign was over four people had been killed in arson attacks and at least 24 had been injured (two of them being suffragettes).. Homes of government ministers were burned down, and in several cases houses of their family members, letter bombs were sent, post boxes were filled with noxious chemicals and railway signals were sabotaged.

Thirty two churches were attacked, as were at least three schools, a hospital and four football grounds, plus the All England Tennis Club and the rowing club in Nottingham. The Church of England was seen as opposed to female suffrage, and male sports were targets, but why schools, a hospital and a tennis club with women players were seen as targets, I have no idea.

So – an interesting and educational day, but not one which advanced my house move or my September presentation. It did however draw some parallels with current protests and the drive to lock more people up to keep them in line. Nearly a thousand Suffragettes were imprisoned, some more than once –  so far we can only guess how many people will be jailed over the recent riots. Interestingly, the protesters who closed the M25 (irritating though they may be) have longer sentences than most of the people being convicted of offences of violence during the recent riots. This doesn’t seem logical to me. That’s one for my future PhD researcher to work out. Assuming that someone ever uses this blog to research my life and times.

I just pressed something and seem to have mislaid the Tags button. I hate computers.

4 T

The Day the Words Returned

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I was driving back from dropping Julia at work this morning when I found myself composing poetry in my head. This is the first time for months that this has happened. Probably six months. In that time I have been ill, depressed, short of inspiration etc. That’s proof – at school they always used to say etcetera meant you had run out of ideas.

My WP spellchecker does not like etcetera, so I checked et cetera. It doesn’t like that either, although both forms are considered correct by other authorities. It’s OK with etc though, with or without the full stop. This confirms my thoughts about spellcheckers and the people who develop them.  This isn’t another discussion of American spelling, more a comment on the assumptions made by the purveyors of computer software. Why is it assumed that I would want to take the language of Shakespeare and the King James Bible and consign it to the waste paper bin of history, in favour of a language which has no concept of the existence of a full length word for etc and thinks that favour is a mis-spelling?

My Orange Parker Pen

Did you find that last sentence understandable. I recall that sentences of up to 20 words are considered best. At 30 or 35 you get to a length where people have difficulty grasping it. That one has just run on to 55 words. I counted them after i found I couldn’t see an easy way of trimming it.

You are a poor sample to ask, as you are all clearly of above average intelligence (and above average in many other areas too), but I was curious to see if I got away with it and produced a readable 55 word sentence. That one is only 43 words long. Until I started looking I always thought I wrote short sentences. I’m clearly going to have to start looking at my readability indexes again.

And so, in a short opening paragraph, I tell you the poetry has returned, and in the rest of it, I ramble on. Sorry about that. However, I can’t stay chatting, I have poetry to write, and probably a second blog post to compose.

Orange Parker Pen

Muttering about my Life

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Plastic Transport Tokens – Nottingham

 

Looking over my life again, and formulating, with hindsight, a plan for its progress, I should have been a TV critic. I could then have played to my strengths and watched TV  all day. Then I could have written about it, appeared as a talking head, done celebrity quizzes and, if lucky, avoided reality TV. Compared to quizzes it always looks so hard. Two months living in a jungle with people I don’t like would be enough for me to put Plan B. That’s the one where I solve the twin problems of hunger and irritation by roasting one of the more annoying contestants and eating them. I’m a Cannibal, Get Me Out of Here!

I could write a book in jail and have a film deal waiting for me when I got out.

Well, it’s one version of my life and how it could have gone. Other lives, I suppose, are available.

I’m beginning to become more adept at writing short pieces for the Numismatic Society Facebook page.  I think I mentioned yesterday that I had done one on the Loughborough Carillon. That isn’t needed for a week or two, which is a shame, becauseI can easily do two or three a week. They are getting easier and they help me avoid the real work of the September Presentation. That link will take you to a piece I just did on plastic transport tokens from Nottingham Corporation Transport. The pictures are the ones from the Facebook article. If I use them it saves me the trouble of being creative.

Plastic ARP Transport Token – Nottingham – Home Front

 

 

Adventures with Amazon

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View from the office

My printer finally arrived today and I was allowed to have it.

On Thursday Amazon delivered some display cases and sent me an email with a one time pass code that I would need to take delivery of my new printer. In the evening  I had another email telling me that there was a problem with my delivery. It was, to say the least, short on detail.

So, my free next day delivery was not “next day”.

Garden harvest – yes, baby carrots

On Friday the printer arrived whilst I was on the phone to the company that delivers my drugs. I call them that because it sounds more exciting than “the company that delivers my medication” and it’s easier than learning to spell Imunimulab. I have found over the years that if I put any effort into learning spellings they change my medication. It’s like when I finally learned to spell eczema: they changed the diagnosis to psoriasis.

They asked for the OTP. I gave it to them. It didn’t work so they took the printer away again. At that point I checked my emails and found they had sent a new OTP. They hadn’t told me I’d need another one.

Finally, today, I received the printer and managed to give them a correct code. I haven’t tried to set the printer up yet as I feel it is bound to be a disaster after all that has already happened. Maybe tomorrow . . .

Wasp exploring a knife smeared with jam

Meanwhile, I finished my piece on Nottingham Transport Tokens for the NSN Facebook page and added the finishing touches to the one of the medallions commemorating the opening of the carillon in Loughborough. I will probably add a few extra bits and post it on the blog. It’s much more interesting than you think once you start researching.

 

Nettle Soup

Pictures are from August 2015. Time flies.

Post 2 – Lists and Lost Poems

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I’m sure I wrote at least half of a second post before I wandered away. It has disappeared. Worse, I can’t remember what I said, I just know it wasn’t what I had planned on saying. Old age and a head full of rubbish. It’s not a great combination for clarity and productivity.

I’ve been sorting poetry. I have sufficient published  Haibun and Tanka Prose to attempt a poetry collection.. Unfortunately I can’t find all of them.

Three of them, I remember, and remember where two of them were published. I can probably find them. Two others I don’t even remember what the subject matter is. One  may not actually exist. I think that is down to a title change.  Then there are several others which I think were accepted but I don’t have listed. I think I just remembered where one of them is published . . .

I do need a better system. I also need to back up my computer regularly as I have lost quite a lot of information over the years. Fortunately most of it can be dragged out of emails.

Latest News – I just went to the Wales Haiku Journal and dug out two poems – one that I knew was there and one I’d forgotten about but remembered whilst writing about forgotten poems. It’s not all about numbers and I made it a policy only to count them up until I reached 100. At 100 I thought I’d done enough to show I was serious. After that it’s about quality.  I have in the past been critical of people who talk about numbers of poems as if quantity means they are a good poet. I’m only looking at numbers again because it feels like time to do a book. I’m not really driven to do a book, but it feels like something I should do now that I’m retired.

PS – Just found two that I didn’t have listed – they were two that I thought were published, but had forgotten where. Whatever happened to my memory?

Orange Parker Pen

First Post of the Day – Rambling and Whingeing

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I have two posts planned for today. One is about sport (again) and this is the other. So far I have taken Julia to work, checked emails and comments and wasted twenty minutes playing a browser game. I have then sorted out a pile of books (mainly in the pile I want to keep), added 19 poems to the list of published poems which I am trying to update. It doesn’t seem like it should be hard work, but it feels like it. I’m ready for a cup of tea and a break. Instead, I thought I’d have a cup of tea and a change of pace. They say a change is as good as a a rest, but I’m not convinced.

Blackberries are doing well again this year.

Soon I will have to do some form filling and official letter writing. Now that we are moving there is a growing list of things that need to be done. I have had to admit defeat on the old printer. I don’t know how Julia manages to wreck printers but, like my good kitchen knives, she has a malign influence on the things. Let her use a perfectly good knife, and she can blunt it in one use. I never seem to get the edge back properly. Same goes for printers. She hardly uses them, partly because she always asks me to print stuff off for her, but when she does print, trouble ensues.

 

In the meantime I will walk round a bit, have a cup of tea and wash up. It’s a bit like painting the Forth Bridge – no sooner have you washed up than you start cooking and make more washing up.  Sometimes I wonder if it would just be easier to buy more plates.

Greengages have cropped well to say we have one tree in a pot. Plums are looking promising too.

Brave New Olympic World

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I probably have a hundred things to talk about, but once I sit down at the computer I can’t think of anything to say.  It’s something I have noticed increasing over the years.

Checked my emails. I have a society newsletter to read. As usual, most of it goes in one ear and out the other. I have no interest in the doings of the Canadian Branch. I don’t even have much interest in the doings of the Northern Branch, and there’s always a possibility I might visit that one day. Note “possibility”. The reality is that I’ve been a member for six or seven years now and survived without entering a room filled with keen collectors and club attendees. I’m not a naturally sociable man.

More trouble with ASDA last night. Three things out of stock, one substitute that was twice as expensive as the one I ordered and the milk split. It often does. They are bad containers for transporting milk. The sub was Weetabix. Twelve originals for the same price as 24 own brand. They met their ‘price guarantee’ but I have difficulty avoiding the use of words like ‘rip off’ and ‘dishonest’. After much searching I was able to find an email form to tell them this but it didn’t accept certain date (date and delivery number) which it said was essential. So I spent ten minutes finding and filling in a form that didn’t work.

Lighting Glory over Little Gidding

I don’t use the delivery system because I think it’s better than shopping in person, or because I enjoy being messed about. I use it because I take immunosuppressants  and am supposed to avoid crowds and shops. After the whooping cough/hundred day cough/suspected collapsed lung at Christmas I am taking this seriously.

The Olympic Results are in. Not the ones where we add up the medals, but the ones where we look at the value for money and decide where the funding goes for the next four years.

The general, view was that there was some bad luck involved with boxing decisions, injuries and illness. But generally the problem was that the rest of the world was better than us. We’ve had a few good Olympics recently after pouring Lottery money into it, but the run has ended and we need to come up with something else. We don’t have more money, so we may have to resort to taking small children from their families and putting them into an Olympic factory system.

Next step – instead of kidnapping small children or offering sports scholarships and leaving it to chance and nature, why not grow your own sportsmen? The Aldous Huxley Centre for Sporting Excellence is just around the corner. Don’t tell me the Chinese and the Americans haven’t already thought of this . . .

They are also reviewing sports. Boxing is under threat. It has been a farce this year and it’s becoming less acceptable to inflict brain damage on people for entertainment. Even without the judges and the gender issues its days are numbered. You don’t need it when you have reality TV, where the ‘stars’ arrive damaged and proceed to inflict brain damage on the audience.

‘Breaking’ is out after one attempt, cricket is back in after last being played in 1900.

Cromer Clouds

Weightlifting and Modern Pentathlon are under review (there will be no horses in Modern Pentathlon  as it moves forward).

Lacrosse is in, as is flag football, squash, baseball, softball (yes, I agree – they are nearly the same). Is it my imagination or do North American sports always get introduced when the Olympics go to the USA? Or am I a cynic?

Sport climbing, skateboarding, and surfing are all now ‘core sports’. I can’t help feeling that surfing might be a bit of a problem in some locations, but time will tell.

Anyway, time to get off for a blood test. It looks like I managed to fill a blog post. The British Olympic Report will have to wait.

Sky over Southwold

Theme of today’s pictures – sky.

A Sudden Panic Begins to Grow

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This morning I made a special effort – omlette for breakfast, made Julia’s sandwiches, did the washing up . . . then I tailed off. Finally, i managed to write the prose section of a haibun. As I made lunch (cheese on toast with tomato relish) I was struck by more inspiration and my lunch went cold as I typed two more. It’s hardly comparable to actual work, but I did feel that I’d made a breakthrough, and celebrated by falling asleep in my chair as I watched the news on TV after eating cold cheese on toast.

Considering  that I haven’t written anything new in the poetry line for three months, two of my recent acceptances date back to last October, and some are probably older than that, this is a promising  move forwards I have written some Facebook pieces for the Numismatic Society and quite a few blog posts, though even there I have been far from firing on all cylinders.

Visit of the Russian fleet to Toulon

Centenary of the Railways

I am also trying to do some longer pieces on collectables for the blog. It’s practice for magazine articles, which I intend to write when I retire.

Reverse of the Boy Scout Medal

Then there’s the presentation in September. That’s actually very close now and I have done nothing for the last two weeks. I am now feeling scared about that – it’s only about three weeks now and I’ve been frittering my time away without noticing. Three weeks is nothing, considering that I’ve changed the emphasis of the presentation several times and still don’t have a proper idea of the way I want to do it.

Miniature medals of Superintendent Tacey – Nottinghamshire City Police

Better finish this and get working again . . .

Walking Slowly Down the Hill

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No, old people do not walk
slowly
because they have plenty of
time.

The Way Things Are – Roger McGough.

I’ve been thinking of this poem more and more as time goes on. There’s something very simple about it, yet it sticks like a burr in the brain and the meaning deepens as time goes on. I once appeared in a poetry magazine on a page facing a poem by Roger McGough. It remains a high point in my poetry career.

Talking of which, the result is in for the third and final submission I made last month. two tanka prose accepted. I normally only manage one from three, so am happier than usual. Even better, neither of them needs any alteration.

Red Kite

This means I have five haibun/tanka prose to select from for my submission this month.I only have one planned, but I need to get writing for next month, which is a bigger month.

On a completely different subject, we had a Peregrine Falcon over the garden this afternoon. We could hear it, because it’s one of those calls you never forget once you have heard it, but it took a lot of watching before we finally saw it.

Over the years we’ve had a Kestrel on the chimney pot, a couple of Sparrowhawks, Buzzards (admittedly about 200 yards away rather than in the garden) and now the Peregrine.  They nest in the centre of town, using the Nottingham Trent University Building as a cliff substitute. I did get some photos once when they flew above rugby training one night, obviously waiting to pounce on a small child. Unfortunately I can’t find them so will probably use photos of kites, a bird I’ve never seen from my garden. Still, it’s nice to know that you can sometimes see birds of prey from a suburban garden, even if it has taken me 35 years to see a Peregrine.

Red Kites at feeding time