Tag Archives: war

Back!

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Puffins at Bempton

I’m back from Norfolk. Sorry about the various delays in comments and reading (I have not even started to catch up on reading yet).

The car started playing up on the way there and got worse on the way back. With No 2 Son, partner and Grandson on board, this was not a great scenario. I did get back and am now bracing myself for a costly quote. They typically wear out by 120,000 miles (which is what I have done) so I shouldn’t be disappointed, but as my other Passat did 247,000 miles without needing anew clutch and I have driven a host of Fords and Citroens over 120,000 on the same clutch, I do feel disappointed, whatever the website may say.

With last year’s cam belt replacement I should be able to go another ten years without major work. Famous last words . . .

Springfields

I am very sunburnt on the head and ears. This is partly because I forgot to pack a hat, partly because I tried to tough it out (Note a positive mental attitude does not defend against sunburn) and partly because our side of the family was allocated seats in the sun at the outdoor ceremony. The bride’s family had all the shade.

It is painful, made worse by it being partly self-induced, and I am feeling sorry for myself. I have also had a rejection from someone who always rejects me. This adds to the misery, but not much and not for long.

We got home last night. It is nice to be back. This morning at around 10.45 all the electrics went out. They came back on a couple of minutes later and we had to reset all sorts of stuff. This was annoying, though not as annoying as having your infrastructure demolished by the Israeli or US Air Forces, so falls into the realm of First World problems. Of course, with the way the US makes enemies these days, and the Russians nibbling away at the edges of Europe, it’s probably only a matter of time before we get bombed.

At times like this, I wonder if it was a responsible thing to do to have a family.

Poppies growing from cracks in concrete

WP seems to be making changes. My media files are being presented differently and they are giving us stickers. They are trying to involve us more, stop us leaving as they mess us about and will, I suspect, eventually be linked to a money-making scheme. I have studied this sort of thing because it fascinates me. It’s also what Number One Son used to do whe he worked in internet gambling.

Day 119

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Shopping arrived promptly this evening, but there were two substitutions and one item not available. The item not available was cooking oil. It is our latest panic, with war in Ukraine being blamed. Thanks to President Putin I may find it difficult to make scrambled eggs next week. Olive oil is still available, I believe, though that will probably be the target of panic buying in the next week.

This is a minor inconvenience compared to being bombed out of your home so I mention it not as a complaint, bit simply as an item in my diary of life in 2022.

I will just have to bake my eggs or boil them.

This, I suspect, is how the world will cope. We will approach stalemate in Ukraine. Russia will remain unbeaten. The West will not feel like starting WW3 to support Ukraine and we will all start, metaphorically, to bake our eggs, and ignore the greater problem.

It feels bad to let the aggressor gain territory, but not as bad as having a full scale world war.

And on that depressing note I will change the subject and make  a mental note to avoid blogging in the early hours of the morning. I didn’t plan on blogging at this time, but fell asleep in front of the TV after Julia went to bed, and woke up several hours later with a list of jobs to do.

It wouldn’t have mattered to the world as a whole if I had missed a day blogging, but it matters to me. And that is why, after producing nearly 300 words on eBay customers which was even bleaker than the current post) I moved on to matters of more general interest. I feel that in years to come, when a future student or archaeologist rediscovers my blog, that they may learn something about 21st century events and the baking of eggs. If I write about the evils of eBay customers, it is a subject of less general application.

That seems like a good place to stop, so I will.

 

Crepuscular rays at Rufford Park

Day 72

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As the sky changed to twilight and the day turned to the time known as “Sunday evening” my neighbours seemed to wake up and realise they still had time to ruin the day. One, who had spent a couple of hours in the afternoon perfecting his car door slamming technique, decided that he really needed to cut some wood with an electric saw, and one just down the hill decided that what we really needed was a ten minute barrage of fireworks. They weren’t particularly interesting fireworks, but they were noisy and obtrusive.I’m not sure what he was celebrating, but assuming that his intention was to disturb and annoy, he succeeded.

At one time Sunday evening was a quiet time where adults prepared for work and children went to bed with dire thoughts of school in their minds. Now it appears to be a peak time for making pointless noise.

The cut-off time between Sunday afternoon (when we were expected to dress in our “Sunday best”) and the dreaded evening was “Songs of Praise“. It used to be broadcast after 6pm, but has steadily moved earlier and earlier. I had noticed it was on in the afternoon but when I check up I find it is now at lunchtime. All the old certainties are being swept away. It’s difficult to have confidence in a world where we have “Songs of Praise” at lunchtime and fireworks in March. Fireworks used to be strictly for 5th November, but now they are spread throughout the year. Either celebrating the burning of Catholics is becoming more popular, or more old traditions are being swept away.

I’m glad, to be honest, to see the back of “Sunday best”. It was very frustrating to sit inside being quiet and tidy when there were fields outside and mischief being left undone.

However, it could be worse. I know of streets where the neighbours are far noisier, and if we were in the Ukraine it wouldn’t be fireworks that disturbed my evening.

It’ a 29 hour drive to Kiev. Just 1,693 miles by road. That’s like driving from Land’s End to John o’ Groats and back again, or the same as Boston to Oklahoma City in the USA. Imagine what would happen if Texas invaded Oklahoma.

It sounds quite close, doesn’t it?