Tag Archives: TV

I rose a little earlier than usual this morning, which is part of my new plan. It is necessary, after weeks of casual slacking, to return to the world. Rising earlier will help me get more work done, and if I get up fifteen minutes earlier each day I won’t notice the gradual change. By the time I go back to work I will be rising with the lark and facing the day with fortitude. Not that we have a lot of larks in Nottingham, in the morning or, indeed, at any time of the day.

As I descended, ready for the day, the post arrived. I now have a new supply of bran for the bokashi bucket. We are producing a lot more vegetable waste these days as a result of healthy eating. As we gradually work our way through the carrots I am also peeling more – there’s something very unappetising about the skin of an aging carrot.

I will be finalising our shopping list later in the day, and carrots won’t be on it.

The second parcel contained masks. I’ve only bought ten, but I thought I’d get a few just in case. Government advice is still that we don’t need them, but this might change and it’s easier to wear a proper mask than make one from a handkerchief and two rubber bands.

Photo by Anna Shvets on Pexels.com

In the evening, acting on Tootlepedal’s advice, I watched some improving TV. First I watched a painting programme, which would have been useful if I had any talent for painting. Then I did the washing up while Julia watched an Andy Warhol exhibition at the The Modern. We then sat down for two programmes about Philip Larkin. He was an interesting though slightly repellent character, but I knew that. The first programme was by someone who had known him and was quite interesting. The second was by someone who had trained as an actor before becoming an academic. That one was interesting because it showed how an academic can build a media career.

Just after midnight I checked in with TESCO, which has no delivery or collection, and ASDA, which did have a collection slot. I did some ordering then had a look at the list for our Thursday collection. It’s hard doing the shopping by remote control.

A Week I Wouldn’t Want Again (Part 3)

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On Saturday Julia walked to the shop again and rang to report that the panic-buying was getting worse. I have already reported on that.

Sunday was spent watching Murder She Wrote and Diagnosis Murder.

On Monday I packed parcels, as usual, then returned home for lunch. We ate what could best be called a fusion lunch (corned beef hash and pasta bake) to empty the fridge and set off on holiday.

By this time my left hand, the one with the arthritic little finger, started to feel distinctly more arthritic.

We drove through Lincolnshire, reached Norfolk and stopped for coffee at at a roadside McDonald’s. It was there that we had a phone call from Julia’s brother to tell us that the government was banning all unnecessary travel and that hotels were to be closed to act as hospitals.

We made a phone call of our own, to establish that the Travelodge was still open. It was. Listening to the radio we established that the situation was advisory, rather than a Draconian clampdown (which would come later).

We decided that as we were most of the way there the rest of our journey fell into the “necessary” category.

By evening my hand was very swollen and all the fingers were impersonating bananas. I did wonder about getting my wedding ring cut off at one point, but it didn’t quite get bad enough. I had to have it done once after injuring my finger playing rugby with the kids and it’s a simple enough procedure if you know someone with the right tool. The only problem is cutting through the hallmarks, which is a nuisance but doesn’t really affect it in wear once you weld it back again.

We had quite a good time over the next few days, with chips at Aldeburgh, a family meal at Beefeater and Afternoon Tea at the Hatfield Hotel in Lowestoft. Unfortunately I can’t get the photos off the card, so that’s three Scone Chronicles you won’t be getting. The chips on the beach were great, the family meal was excellent and the afternoon tea had the best sandwiches I’ve had so far in the series. It also had sausage roll, a cheese straw, a cheese scone, onion chutney, a fruit scone and a lot of cake. In fact, we needed a doggy bag.

Aldeburgh and Southwold were busy. People are fleeing from London and living in their second homes. They obviously think that the fresh air will preserve them from illness.

The Scallop at Aldeburgh – Julia adding colour and a sense of purpose

On the final day (which was last Thursday, and technically makes this Nine Days I Wouldn’t Want Again) we stopped at the TESCO opposite the Travelodge. Julia offered to pop in for bread and milk while I sat in the car – she is a jewel amongst wives. She reported long queues, empty selves and bad-humoured queuing. There were lines to stand behind and a ban on cash – all the shops are using the crisis to make another attempt at driving cash out of use.

On the way back we stopped at a Garden Centre to meet my sister. In contrast to TESCO it was a good-natured place with full shelves and only about a dozen customers in the place. We had tea and cake and remarked that it really needed a tumbleweeed to add the final touch.

Social distancing had needed three days to take hold, but seemed to be working.

Of course, the Government was on its way to another panic by then…

Diaries, Doctors and Dinner

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I’ve been thinking about diaries today.

If I kept a proper diary I’d be able to argue my case with the doctor more convincingly. I’m able to put most of the story together, but it lacks a little precision. With a diary I could supply more precise details and make a stronger case.

As it is, I’m left with a nagging fear that it really is me who has forgotten something important.

We used to have a local criminal in this area known as the Flat Cap Robber. As the report says, he was so ordinary they ended up investigating 1,600 suspects reported by the public. One of the people who was named as a suspect was a local market trader.

He wasn’t the most popular man on the market, and the general opinion was that someone had reported him to get their own back for a bad deal.

He was able to prove his innocence by reference to his diary, which was news to everyone as we didn’t know he could write, much less that he had an inner life of any sort.

This gave me two lessons – one that people, no matter how they appear, are more than just the surface that they show. The other is that there are benefits to keeping a diary. Despite that I still haven’t started one. Diaries may be good, but procrastination is easier. And, as we have seen over the years, I am a world class procrastinator but only a moderate diarist.

I just looked up diaries, out of interest. I’m surprised there aren’t more from earlier times, as it’s the sort of thing you’s expect Greeks and Romans and Egyptians to get involved with. The first known work which looks like a diary is by Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius who wrote in the late 2nd Century AD. There’s a gap from there until the 9th or 10th centuries when the Japanese and some Arabic writers wrote diary-like books.

Eventually, of course, we come to Samuel Pepys, the king of the diarists. Despite his fame I don’t know much about him apart from him being something to do with the Navy, being inappropriate with his servants and burying his Parmesan to save it from the Great Fire of London. This strikes me as an excellent idea for Parmesan though I’m not actually sure that burning would harm Parmesan. It’s dreadful stuff and it can’t just be me who thinks it smells of vomit.

This is all I’ve written today as Julia made me move books this morning, then I shopped as she did laundry. After this we had a late lunch of crumpets, watched Murder She Wrote and ate tea as we watched Strictly Come Dancing, His Dark Materials and, as I write, The War of the Worlds.

Tea was potato wedges with garlic seasoning, roasted carrots with cumin, broccoli and pies from the freezer section – mushroom and Camembert. It’s fish pie tomorrow, because I didn’t feel like standing in a freezing kitchen making a fish pie today.

The pies were quite tasty, though the filling was ungenerous and they both stuck in the foil trays, which didn’t help with presentation. The garlic seasoning worked well, the carrots were good but the broccoli charred a bit. I really should have put it in later than I did, but that would have meant missing the dance-off.

Today, December 1st, is the first day of meteorological winter. One down, ninety to go. Number Two Son says it’s snowing where he is. As he’s in Toronto I’m not surprised. I just hope he has a good coat and waterproof boots.

Cannon for a Human Cannon Ball

The pictures show an interesting building in Lincolnshire last week and a cannon for a Human Cannon Ball. We stopped for a photo but I didn’t enquire about the cannon because we have nowhere to park it.

A Quick Post (Again)

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Sorry, I’ve been neglecting my reading quite shamefully over the last few months. I do feel bad about it, and will try to visit everyone over the next week or two.

I’m also sorry that I’ve been neglecting the blog and have become very ill-disciplined about it. I will try to do better. The truth is that with winter approaching and a few decent things on TV, I have been watching more TV and doing less writing than I should be doing. I also thought that I ought to spend some time with Julia as I’ve been neglecting her too. I’m not sure she appreciates this – she mostly tells me off for talking instead of watching the TV.

It’s true, I do talk a lot whilst watching TV, but if I didn’t how would I communicate my views that politicians are idiots and most of the writers of TV programmes aren’t smart enough to be politicians?

I’d have to bottle it up and that would cause stress. That would be a bad thing because stress is a killer.

“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation, and go to the grave with the song still in them.” as Thoreau is often, inaccurately, said to have said. Be that as it may, I prefer the inaccurate quote. I may go to the grave with a song still in me, but I won’t be going to the grave with any unsaid criticisms of politicians or scriptwriters.

As for the pressing matters of the day – my camera is wearing out, my computer at work (despite the presence of things my home computer lacks) has no card reader, my car insurance company is trying to raise my premium by 25% from an already overpriced base (and using weasel words to do it, despite their bulldog logo) and it’s Julia’s birthday next week and I haven’t a clue what to buy her.

Even if I did, I would still have the problem of a Christmas present. I hate this time of year. I’m tempted to wrap up my car insurance policy and tell her I’ve bought her a year’s worth of taxi service, but as I already provide that she probably won’t think much of it as a present.

As a further apology, sorry this is a short post but I’m off to watch Lord Sugar abuse another bunch of idiots on The Apprentice.

This confirms all I’ve ever thought about Sugar, the honours system, Karen Brady, reality TV and the sort of idiots who go on reality TV.

They are a complete bunch of something Julia would tell me off for saying if I wrote it here.

Tomorrow’s Breakfast – Overnight Oats

Julia has been very organised today and has already make overnight oats for breakfast. Because it’s going to be near freezing overnight and cold porridge, straight from the fridge, is just what you need on a winter morning.

I would try the slow cooker, but last time I tried cooking as we slept I woke up in a panic, thinking the house was on fire.

An even quicker post

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Twenty one minutes.

We went out today, did some errands, went to see Dad, ate pasties, had loads of great photo opportunities (autumn leaves, steelwork, cranes and a concrete pump, red kites and a great sunset) and really regretted leaving the camera at home. It’s almost a universal law that the day you leave the camera at home you get the best photo ops.

That’s why I’m going to throw yet another random photo into the post.

I won two games of dominoes this afternoon. My Dad also won two and he’s 90 and more than slightly confused. He spent a lot of his life being competitive and skilful with numbers and these seem to be two key values that he has retained despite the challenges. It sets my two victories in perspective, because I really was trying.

Julia won two games too, despite not playing to win and my sister won one game despite actively trying to lose. All in all I have to face the possibility I’m not very good at dominoes.

I enjoyed my relaxed night so much last night that I tried it again. Hence the quick post. Wednesday nights have been TV nights recently because it’s The Apprentice, followed by Taskmaster. We’ve started watching The Circle too, so now we’ll have to watch a repeat of Taskmaster later in the week.

I’m not particularly proud of my TV viewing, but it could have been worse. Julia has spent all night swearing at an origami book and throwing screwed up paper on the floor. I take it that the paper folding is not going well.

She’s generally very good at origami, but new additions to her repertoire are often a bit of a struggle. I have learnt several new words from her failed attempts…

1994 22 carat gold 50p

Gold 50p 1994 D-Day

Photos are the Gold 50p coin we had a few weeks ago – it commemorates the 50th Anniversary of D-Day. It’s strange we are now celebrating the 50th Anniversary of the 50p coin. How fast does time go?

Life and Times of a Couch Potato

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I’ve not covered myself in glory today, as far as work is concerned. Starting with good intentions, I have fallen far short of my ambitions.

Dusk is falling now and I’m watching a documentary about the Durrell family.

I have been struggling to concentrate and have read a few poems from the new edition of Acumen, but little else. The magazine has just been turned down for Arts Council Funding and is starting to raise money for itself.

As someone who has struggled to raise funds for junior sport and people with learning difficulties I am in two minds. I do sympathise with the loss of funding, but I can’t help feeling that poetry isn’t quite as important as kids or people with disabilities.

Much of the day was taken up with a couple of Columbo episodes, including one where Dick van Dyke, in a beard borrowed from a Boer Farmer, performs a murder that could have been solved by a child who had once watched CSI. How times have changed…

Today’s plots revolved around things like telephone answering machines and altering the hands of clocks. There wasn’t a mobile phone in sight, and certainly no mention of DNA.

It was a refreshing change, but also slightly frustrating, as even I seem to know more about the forensics of gunshots than Columbo.

The coin in the featured image is a Dylan Thomas commemorative. I’ve mentioned poetry and I happen to have it stored where it’s available to the blog, so it’s vaguely suitable. Hopefully I’ll soon be back on track with computers, though I’ve made no progress yet.

It’s quite a good likeness, despite looking like he’s standing in a wind tunnel.

The Plans Slot into Place

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The plans were –

Publish the post I meant to do last night
Sleep
Write
Shop
Pick Julia up from work

It’s actually difficult for that to go wrong.

Tonight I will do some decluttering and some cooking.Not much, just enough to say I have carried out the last two elements on my list.

Nobody needs to know I intended to clear the dining room table or cook four meals in advance. A carrier bag of books will suffice, as will a simple beef stew. It was going to be venison (it’s healthier and everybody likes Bambi) but they didn’t have any in the supermarket. They had some last week, which is what gave me the idea. Typical.

Cookery isn’t so bad when you think of the alternative – watching the depressing news on TV, watching equally depressing non-news or watching poor quality repeats.

Ah well, where are those onions…

Crocus at Nottingham

Snowdrops at Ruddington

Some Spring photos, hopefully the first of many.

Skating and Sniggering

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I sneaked in a quick post earlier today, pressed the button to publish and went to pick Julia up from work.

We ran a few errands on the way back, did a bit of cookery and sat down to watch a programme featuring overpaid idiots on ice. To my mind it falls between two stools – it’s not elegant enough for me to admire the skating and there aren’t enough falls to make it a comedy.

Those of you with a scatalogical sense of humour can smirk all you want at the use of the word “stools”. I certainly am, because it sums up the quality of the show so well.

When we got back, I checked in with WP and found I hadn’t actually loaded the post.

So this sketchy post will have to stand in for the previous one, and will satisfy my requirement for a post a day.

Christmas Day

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Day 79 of the Posting Challenge, or Christmas Day if you prefer. Twenty-one days to go.

After a lie in, TV, chocolate, nuts, snacks, nap and Muppets Christmas Carol I think it’s fair to say the day has gone well. We’re now watching Strictly Come Dancing Christmas Special. I’ve also been looking at Michael Caine on Wikipedia and following links through a series of British character actors and dodgy 1950s films.

I’m now watching a programme on Christmas songs, eating turkey and drinking wine. It’s strange to think that I once wanted to be spritual and sophisticated.

Hope you’re all having a good holiday.

Just Watching TV

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Southwold from the Pier

I’m watching Fantasy Homes by the Sea before going to work. “Fantasy” must have changed its meaning since last time I looked. It now seems to mean “imperfect”, “badly decorated” or “adequate”. They are nice enough but they don’t get my imaginatiob going.

The interesting thing is that they have been to Cromer and are now in Sheringham. So have I, in my search for piers.

They are just looking at beach huts. You can buy one for just £59,000 and rent it out for £60 a day.

They are now looking at a cottage at Bacton. It has flint walls, pantiled roof, a walled garden and seals on the beach. As fantasy homes go, it’s pretty good, though I just looked Bacton up on Wiki – with a gas terminal, a takeaway and a holiday village I may have to reduce the fantasy rating.

The woman on TV doesn’t really like it. She wants to redecorate and remodel. Or “rip it all out and start again” as she just said. I predict that, as usual, they won’t like it enough to buy it.

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Life after the Care Farm