Matthew has an announcement

We are "enjoying" the current heat wave - days of unbroken sun and broken sleep. It is too hot for gardening, or lazing indoors. In childhood, my father used to drive us for picnics by some river or lake on days like this, where we could spend languid days in the cool of some trees or a grassy meadow, dipping in and out of the water as the mood took us. Ah! Idyllic memories - but I wonder sometimes what the truth of those blissful times was, behind the mask of hazy memory of golden hours. Never mind, dreams of our youth should be relaxing and somnolent. Byron has the best idea: every time we get the hosepipe out, he dashes back and forth through the stream, ending up soaked but happy and cooler.

I am not good at looking at my phone messages, and often forget to carry it with me. On Saturday, I discovered two missed calls and a recorded message from the hospital left the day before. Also on Saturday, I got a letter and an email telling me of a new appointment for Tuesday (today). Yesterday, I had another text message telling me to read my appointment list on the hospital website, and then the secretary rang again asking if I know about the appointment. They must be having a problem with missed appointments to be so determined to get me there! I shall have to skip one afternoon meeting to get there, but I guess this is an appointment I'd better keep or I might be black-balled.

Player 4 has entered the game

We had a joyous phone call from Matthew and Rosie yesterday to inform us that Rosie has been for a scan and is 11 weeks pregnant, so congratulations to them both. This is a second baby that will clearly be welcomed. Wasting no time, they have sent a photo of them all in matching T-shirts saying Players 1, 2 and 3 are ready. They have had a new tiny T-shirt printed saying "Player 4 has entered the game".  I am not a game player myself, but I do appreciate the metaphor for life. We are indeed all minor pieces in some strange galactic game. Most of us suppress the thought but this makes it explicit. May they all play the game well and enjoy the moves in store.

Coming out of the hospital, the hot weather has broken over East Anglia, where thunderstorms have greeted us. The weather is cooler now, without the need to water the garden, but Bronte hates the thunder, and tries to hide behind our legs, needing calming with attention and fuss.  Dr Pulimood, the respiratory consultant, was the most thorough and patient of all the specialists I have seen. He spent 40 minutes discussing my recent scan before sending me for yet more blood tests. There is some scarring and a small nodule on the lung that he wants to keep an eye on, and which may be leaving me a little breathless when I move too fast. I realised how slow I have become when, walking back to the car recently, an old lady with a stick and carrying a full shopping bag passed me and was in her car and away before I even reached the car park.

Our house is of an age where things are breaking and needing repair. Yesterday, we had to have a new water softener. The fitter was only a young man, but forgetful. He had forgotten his drill, so asked to borrow mine, then when he left he forgot to take his card machine, so I had to phone the office to contact him to come back. Now the side panels of my workshop are rotting, so tomorrow our fencing man will come to replace them. I have taken the opportunity to begin to clear the workroom. We have so much stuff left from our boating days, but much of it can go now so I have filled the bin with old pieces we can never use again and tins rusted and solid with time. I even have an old anchor and anchor chain, too heavy to drop in a bin and too awkward to carry to the tip. I have left them heaped in a corner for another day.

Covid pings and summer zen

Two days after Edwin had taken Ann to the dentist and me to A&E (see Edwin's Emergency-Journeys), he was pinged by the Covid app and has to remain quarantined for ten days. The message said only the day he was in contact with an infected person, not where it happened, so naturally he wondered if it had occurred when he was out with us. Then Andre also got pinged, so they figured it must have been when they were together somewhere, but apart from the driving lesson (Edwin teaching Andre), they didn't go anywhere much together on Monday. However, an article in the paper this week warned that some false pings can occur through partition walls, so they now wonder if they got it through the thin wall of their apartment block. 

Fortunately, they have each had their first vaccination and both remain well. Ann sent for a Covid test set, so we have also tested ourselves and remain negative, but nearly half-a-million people are currently off work because of these pings, and many children are missing out yet again on their education, including our granddaughter in the village because someone in the school tested positive. Some people are now deleting the app because of this, and I have not added it to my phone as I don't want false pings to stop me going out. Ann has taken the opposite view and has now downloaded the app to see if she gets pinged at all.

It is summer, my favourite part of the year. Autumn brings early frosts and the hint of decay; winter sees me shivering under heavy jerseys and a blanket, with the long hours of darkness bringing tiredness and lethargy, while Spring, for all its promise of new life, is often heavy rain with the earth sodden and late frosts. But summer gives light with long days, so often filled with glorious sunshine and warmth. A time to sit in the garden to read or watch the swallows, or take walks with firm ground under ones feet rather than squelchy mud, when age brings the possibility of slipping and a bad fall.

Cutting metal for the crane

When we built the patio and added the pebbled zen garden, I promised Ann I'd to try to construct a Japanese crane to complement the area. Yesterday, I began to make good on my promise. I have a large sheet of mild steel, salvaged from the back of the dishwasher when we had to replace it. I have drawn the shapes on it for body and wings, and am in process of cutting out the pieces. I am using a reciprocating saw with a metal cutting blade, and wear protective goggles, gloves and ear plugs, but it is tiring and the noise of sawing through steel is horrendous, so I can only do it for short periods. As the new creature emerges, I will post progress on this blog.

We watched a biopic on Alex Ferguson recently. I was impressed with has wonderful managerial style, with his intellectual analysis for coming to decisions. One particularly difficult choice was when he pondered whether to drop his regular goalie to bring in a new man. He was filled with uncertainty, but in the end said, "when there is doubt, there is no doubt" and took the decision. Manchester United went on to win the game and the tournament and never looked back, although the old goalie never spoke to him again. One must not dwell on 'what might have beens', but it is a maxim I wish I had had at several critical times in my life, and will now carry forward.

Edwin's emergency journeys

Swan attacks in Clare

Walking the dogs in Clare, we passed a pair of swans guarding their new brood. They reared and hissed as we passed, but the dogs were good and walked calmly to heel past them. Back at the house, Ann’s swollen face remains very sore from her dental surgery and seems red and hot. Edwin took her back to the dentist this morning and she has been started on antibiotics for infection. 

Later, hurrying back to the house from the studio through torrential rain, I missed my footing and tumbled forward onto the wheelbarrow. I have cut my head open to a gaping scalp wound so Ann insisted I go to A&E (or ED as it is now called) to get it dressed and assessed. She has been drinking to ease the tooth pain, so she phoned Edwin to take me. He was in Bury taking Andre through his driving test but came back to take me to hospital. He was delayed by a road traffic accident. A car was on its side in a ditch so the road was closed, but he diverted and finally I am at the hospital following Edwin's second emergency dash in one day.

Because of COVID no one can stay with me, so I’ve been sitting alone in Waiting Room A for 2 hours. More people keep arriving and ambulances are drawing up but none of us are called. Eventually though, I am taken through for triage. The nurse straps a wet dressing to the scalp then sends me back to the waiting room for the doctor to see. 

It’s all happening here. A young man has staggered in after skidding and going over his handlebars in the rain. He says he heard the bone snap and now can’t move his arm. A woman has tired of waiting and is sobbing at the reception counter saying she can’t wait any longer and must go home. A young couple sit opposite, scantily dressed. The girl is shivering with grazed bare arms and a low-cut dress. Now an alarm has gone off and six people have rushed into the night through the door to see goodness knows what. 

Grandad John with new bonnet

I downloaded Tetris to pass some time but after two goes it has switched to Candy Crush and will let me play Tetris no more. Now my head is throbbing and Its so late I just want to sleep. Some people are signing themselves out saying they can wait no longer. I am persevering. I am a few feet from the double doors. Both are wedged open to the night and it is getting cold. I need to walk to keep warm but I’m too tired. I have moved to a different waiting area to stretch my legs. There is a trail of fresh blood across the floor. A cleaner is loading a fresh mop to tackle it. 

Two policewomen came in to interview the young couple sitting opposite. They had been in the crashed car that delayed Edwin. The driver said he’d hit a patch of water and the car started to aquaplane; it rode on a sea of water “like ice” and skidded off the road. Luckily both were well but shaken and bruised and in for check-ups. 

At last I see the doctor, a lively young man training to be a GP. He says the skin flap is already dead and cannot be stitched, but the wound is not deep. He cleans the dried blood and old leaves from my hair and wound, and rebandages it with a simple patch. I text Edwin who arrives with Ann in the car, both glad to have their concern eased. We finally get home at one a.m. just five hours later.

Peace and strife

Peace

I love trees 

their leaves 

bring a whispering mystery 

to calm the frantic soul, 

While unquiet spirits storm 

and find no rest, 

I only need a tree 

to calm my breast.

Annie Elliott

We have returned from a great break in Northumberland, staying at a magnificent country house. Technically, we were in a small wing at the back of the house, the former servants' quarters, but it was still luxurious with large bedrooms, multiple bathrooms, and a huge kitchen and sitting room. We had hoped to have visitors come and share with us, and Edwin and Andre did come for a few days by train. Lucy and family visited on a day trip but did not stay over because of schooling. During the visit, Ann was reminded on her great love of peace and her passion for trees, ultimately the most peaceful of symbols in a living, lively world. 

Some years ago when we lived in Clare, we had a local Clare-based dentist. Unfortunately, many of his patients developed problems with their dental work and complained. Eventually he was struck off for incompetence and dishonesty. Last week, so many years later, Ann also became a victim of the man's efforts when a crown he had fitted worked loose and came off during our holiday. She attended an emergency session with our new dentist in Hadleigh, who diagnosed that the remaining stump, to which it had been attached, was too small and damaged to re-crown and the the thing would need extraction. This he judged too difficult for his meagre abilities so arranged an appointment with a specialist odontological surgeon.

On Thursday, the operation of Ann's mouth began. The session had been booked for half an hour, but the root was a small, fractured and half-buried remnant so the poor girl had to have repeated injections as the gum was incised and the broken adherent root fragments drilled and grinded, gripped and heaved at. She was in the chair for one and a half hours and needed six stitches. Coming out, a sizable queue had formed as she staggered down the stairs. Because of the stupid Covid restrictions, I had been standing outside in the rain to wait for her, but I was glad I did because she needed my arm to steady her as we returned to the car park. Then, walking the dogs in Clare next day, a new sign in a shop window proclaimed Ann's belief. Tree Action Society of Clare (TASC) proudly proclaims they also stand for trees. Let's all go plant a tree for peace. Now, three days later, Ann has a huge hard swelling over the jaw and a huge pain she is desperately trying to suppress with various pain-killers. I am cooking her omelettes, the only thing she can eat besides her diet of soup and milk.

Also in Clare, I had to drop a prescription in to our doctors. While the dentist has remained open throughout the pandemic, seeing patients in the most intimate of ways via their maskless mouths, for eighteen months the doctor's surgery has greeted the ill and dying with a locked door and this sign: "STOP!!! Knock on window if you have an appointment". No one I know has seen their GP in all this time, and I am ashamed of the profession or to admit I once was a GP.

We have a leak

 Ann, walking with bare feet, noted a wet patch on the hall carpet. I apologised and said I must have spilt the coffee when I carried it through. Next morning, I felt a drip on my head. A crack had appeared in the ceiling, with a spreading stain. Investigation tracked it to the airing cupboard, and the valve to open the hot water system when the timer called it on. Water was jetting out, but only when the hot water went on so I wedged a baking tray to catch the leak.

We managed to get a plumber quickly, who made the diagnosis and phoned his supplier about a replacement valve. They had one in stock but said it had been reserved for another plumber; but when our man bent their ear with a plea about "this is an emergency", they agreed to order another valve in for the other guy. Our man returned quickly with the part, and then performed a miracle of plumbing engineering. He wrapped a sleeve round the pipe above and below the valve, and pumped freon through it. The pipe quickly froze solid, so he could replace the valve without having to drain the system. Amazing.

Following this, Ann noticed a new stain and crack appearing on her bedroom ceiling. Because of my severe itching, we have slept separately but for some time she had been disturbed by loud nightly noises in the attic above her rather than in the bed beside her. We worried that it might be rats or bats, or birds nesting, but the attic was clear of debris or droppings. Finally, we tracked it down to a pair of starlings nesting under the roof tile where the cement had broken away. We waited a few weeks until they had fledged, then found a local guy called Josh. The valley troughs were replaced a few years ago to fix other leaks, but Josh said they must have been cowboys because all the pointing to seal them under the tiles had worked loose and needed replacing. The birds had got in, and now the rain too. 

The Widower

I am continuing painting, turning to the neighbours for subjects. The first is David, who was widowed two years ago (see Stories and funeral). He is the affable organiser of our little Hundon men's group, but has the saddest eyes as though reflecting on all the might-have-beens in his life. My next neighbour must be selected to bring more cheer to the painting.

Happy Birthday Ann!

It is Ann's birthday, so last week we went to the opera to celebrate. The The De Vere Horsley Estate where we stayed is a large mansion set in 300 acres of Surrey with a fascinating history. Built in 1820 by Sir Charles Barry; the architect of the Houses of Parliament, it was bought by the Lovelace family. Ada Lovelace, the daughter of Lord Byron, was a close friend of Charles Babbage and helped him by writing the first computer program for his mechanical computer, and a modern computer language has been named in her memory. Another famous owner was Sir Thomas Sopwith, inventor of the Sopwith Camel First War fighter plane.

Normally busy with conferences and weddings, it was eerily quiet with few guests, several of whom, like us, were staying for the opera. There is still only a skeleton staff working. All large weddings are on hold, and the manager (who was doubling as a bar waiter in the evening and breakfast waiter in the morning) told us that there are hundreds of weddings, delayed for up to 18 months, booked in solidly every day from the moment the hotel reopens for normal business. He is Irish but had been back to Dublin only once during the emergency, for the funeral of his brother who had died suddenly from Covid.

Ann returns from her trip below

Ann and I were roomed in the tower. Although a romantic situation, the room was inevitably a little cramped being built into the thick curved wall. The toilet, as large as the bedroom, was in the room below accessed by a steep spiral staircase. Paying a nighttime visit required great care with a steady grip of the handrail. 

We dressed in our finery ready to drive the short distance to the venue at Grange Park, but there was a minor hold up when I tried to do up my dress trousers. They appeared to have shrunk, so I could not make the tab meet the button on the other side. No matter how tightly I pulled, there remained a stubborn gap of a couple of inches. In the end, I was pulling so hard the tag tore through the cloth, so I ended up wearing a dress jacket, fancy shirt, bow tie, and my ordinary dark trousers. Luckily, I had not driven down in jeans! Finally we arrived to see Falstaff, with Bryn Terfel as the glutenous and lecherous fat Shakespearean knight. At 79, Verdi was even older than me when he composed this wonderful piece. 

We had seats at the front of the stalls, and with the orchestra tucked away under the stage, we were but a few feet away from the great man and could appreciate every nuance of gesture, and every tone of Bryn's superb voice. It was a truly magical night, with a hamper picnic in the park. Unfortunately, because of staff shortages, the hotel bar had closed at 10p.m. so we enjoyed a nightcap in our room instead.

Happy Birthday Ann 

Dr Edwin Marr, PhD

 

Celebrating wth Dr. Eds

Edwin has worked hard these last three-and-a-half years towards his doctorate in English Literature. He has combined this with working as a temporary lecturer at ARU and UEA, which inevitably took a lot of time in preparation and marking. He finally submitted his thesis on space in the railways earlier this year and had his viva on Monday. The work covered the mid-Victorian period when railways were growing in their reach, and many writers of the period were responding to this in both negative and positive ways through literature and poetry. The viva was conducted by two people who are experts in the field. Despite some nervousness, he remained cool and analytical in his answer, and received glowing reports from both examiners. The independent chair commented that it was "the best and most interesting viva" he had ever chaired. He passed with flying colours, and their only recommendation was to change a few minor typos. 

Happily, Ann and I could arrange for our friends Rae and Malcolm to come over to dog sit, and we could go straight over to celebrate with him and his partner Andre. We took what we thought was a good bottle of bubbly which was quickly downed, but then Edwin broke out a bottle of vintage 2010 Bollinger he had bought specially for the celebration. This was so smooth and gentle on the pallet, we sank it rapidly with much toasting and congratulations. It too went down all too rapidly. Edwin and Andre had booked a smart Greek bistro near the centre of Cambridge for a meal. This was Andre's treat, and more toasts were raised over a fine Greek white wine. Then we walked down the road to the University Arms hotel where we could enjoy cocktails in their oak-panelled library, then over the road to a lively night club, open until 02:00, for more cocktails before getting a Uber taxi back to the apartment. 

Eds had made up a bed for the night (I certainly could not have driven home) and we crashed out, but managed to get up at 06:30 and leave without disturbing the boys. We were back home for 08:00 to let the dogs out, and for me to start work again. Every one of our seven children has done well, but this was definitely a night to remember and cherish. Congratulations Edwin. We are so proud of you.