World history is unfolding

Herr Putin

With the fall of communism and the ending of the first Cold War, MI6 turned its might towards the new threats coming from the Middle East and the rising power of China. Now, the axis of threat has turned again, and they may be forced, like some Le Carré novel, to bring some of their long-retired Russian experts back into the intelligence fold. Before the invasion of Ukraine, many commentators were dismissing the presence of 100,000 troops massing on its borders as "shaking a stick", and were convinced Herr Putin would never really move in to the kill. The threat from him is now all too real for the west to dismiss. The man shows many traits of the unhinged, driven by isolation and paranoia but with the backing of massive fire power to carry out his wild threats. A dictator in the mould of Hitler and Stalin, he appears to have reduced all around him to quivering, fearful yes men, too frightened to offer any balanced opinion. Such instability in one man is fearful. He must now see the whole Western world as against him (which it is), and will convince himself that his original fears were fully justified. As opposition to his wild behaviour grows, he will feel more and more trapped in the world of his imagination, and will become increasingly convinced that his only solution is to take on this new challenge. The suggestion that some brave person will be come forward to lead others within the Kremlin to restrict Herr Putin's capacity to issue military orders is, I suggest, fanciful. There is support for Putin among many of the Russian populace, and history suggests that dictators who control the whole body politic (think Stalin and Hitler) do not get removed by internal revolt. I fear his reaction may be to trigger a pre-emptive strike somewhere in Europe, and we may be led ineluctably into more than a Cold War.

Decisions

Soon, for the first time,

it will be my choice

and I will decide whether

to come or to go

or flee or stay,

or even walk away,

but for once

it will be up to me

and I will know...

by Annie Elliott

On a more relaxed note, we visited the boys' new home again yesterday to do some more "odd jobs". I repaired the gate after its damage from the storms and hung another hook in their bedroom. Meanwhile, Ann and Andre sewed heavy curtains that the boys had bought that look good but were too long. Later, in a lovely thank you gesture, they took us to Bury's only Michelin star restaurant, the Pea Porridge, for a very enjoyable evening.

Loss of Ukraine and a new fence

I visited Ukraine four years ago, when Edwin persuaded me to go with him to see the Eurovision Song Contest in Kyiv in 2017. We had a wonderful visit, staying in a fine hotel in the city centre and seeing a few of the sights, such as the home of Mikhail Bulgakov, author of The Master and Margarita. We went to a grand opera house for an opera by Rimsky-Korsakov called The Tale of Tsar Saltan, which contains the famous Flight of the Bumblebee. This was an afternoon performance in Russian, and attended by a number of school children who seemed to really enjoy the performance. We also went to a nightclub, enjoying a number of drinks, bursting at the seams with lively young people, but they took pity on me and offered me a seat. There were even trips to Chernobyl available, travelling to the site by ex-army vehicles, which would have been a good experience, but we lacked sufficient time for the excursion. The Ukrainians we me were without exception warm, lively, modern and welcoming, and it was a joy to visit their country. 

I continue working for a pharmaceutical company until the end of the month. We are in process of preparing for a clinical trial, due to start soon, and for which we will need to recruit patients willing to volunteer for said trial. Beside the UK, we had planned to recruit in two countries in Eastern Europe: Ukraine and Moldova. Suddenly, the consequences of war and invasion by Russia against a peaceful European country are rammed home as we have been forced to drop both countries from our recruitment strategy, as the walls of Europe are forcibly wrenched down by a brutal tyrant.

The new fence, before and after

The fence facing our rear window has been covered with a dense coat of ivy since we moved in twenty years ago. I occasionally cropped it with the hedge trimmers, like any hedging, but generally it was a solid green wall with birds popping in and out all day, and it caused us no trouble. Our neighbour has recently had two new fences put up. A few weeks ago, in an unusual move, she invited us round for coffee and happened to mention that her third fence, which is our border and our responsibility, was only held up by the ivy, and wobbled in the wind. She was concerned that it might fall down, and when I looked I agreed all the posts had rotted so we said we'd get it seen to, so yesterday, the men came round and replaced it . Ann loves her birds (along with her love of trees), so we did ask if they could preserve some of the ivy to allow it to grow again. Unfortunately, when they came to remove the old fence, all the roots of the ivy were actually on the neighbour's side, and came up in a big clump as they cleared the ground. So now we have to look out on a stark bright fence with no birds or greenery, rather than our beautiful shady green screen. We will have to visit a garden centre to buy some screening hedging and encourage it to grow.

The boys are in their new home

The boys enjoy Ann's stew

I am bad at taking selfies. I invariably cut someone off at the neck, or include my fingers, or manage to include myself as a giant with everyone else shrunk to tiny extras in the background. So, when we ended up inadvertently at the boys' house yesterday for a first visit since they moved in, I opted for a simple tableau with myself excluded. It's much simpler, and more certain of success.

How did we end up at the boys' house? They only moved in a week or so ago, but with both working long hours and unable to take time off for the move, they have had to squeeze in arranging the furniture and unpacking their many boxes as best they could in the few hours available. Andre had borrowed my drill to put up a coat hanger, but yesterday afternoon I got an 'advice' call asking what to do next, as the drill bit would only penetrate for half an inch before hitting a literal brick wall. I said perhaps I had better come over to look at it, to which they readily agreed. Ann had spent the morning slow cooking a vegetable stew, all prepared with fresh ingredients peeled and scrubbed by her own fair hand, so she suggested bringing that over as well. Again there was no hesitation in getting their agreement, to which they suggested bringing a bottle of milk and Ann added a dessert. 

For the next hour, they worked like crazy to make the house presentable, throwing boxes in their cars and generally cleaning and tidying. It was worth it. We had a lovely evening in a spotless house, everything in its place, and beautifully arranged. It is a very old house, of flint and brick, and facing one of the original town walls of Bury St Edmunds. Indeed, the roads here are called Westgate and Southgate Street, from the days when there were real town gates, and Bury also still has its Northgate and Eastgate Streets. The house walls are so thick, they form a snug window seat where Edwin likes to perch, and the house is silent, despite two main roads and the roundabout close by. The dinner, with side dishes prepared by Andre whilst I put up the coat hanger, was wonderful. Now they want us round tomorrow for a couple more jobs: to mend their gate which broke in the gales, and to put up a hook in the bedroom. Now my pharmaceutical work is finishing, I may be able to branch out as an odd-job-man.

Another immunotherapy session completes

 Some are more suited to be butchers than nurses. Such a one came to set up my drip for a third session of treatment. He waddled towards me, mildly obese, unshaven, pimply and in a vaguely white coat rather than the smart grey monogrammed tunics the lady nurses are wearing. I never learnt his name. His name badge was upside down and obscured by his translucent apron and he neither introduced himself nor asked how I was, but grabbed my wrist and attempted to shove a cannula into it. The attempt failed. He moved further up the arm preparing to attempt a second thrust when a kind, more senior nurse stepped in and commanded “go for your break now. I’ll take over”. He slouched off and she asked my name and fixed the hospital band too my wrist which he had neglected to do. 

I breathed a sigh of relief, and could finally enjoy relaxing with the cup of sweet coffee she brought me. I am now a quarter way through the year's treatment plan, so hopefully the fire is well and truely lit to burn the little malignant blighters in their hidden lairs.

At home, the boys are finally beginning to sort their house out, and may move in this weekend. There are still two suitcases in the hall, though, out of which they have been living all week. Edwin has now got a third job lined up which he starts next month, at the University of Suffolk in Ipswich. He seems to work long hours, leaving at 07:30 some mornings, and not returning till after 9:00 pm. Driving from Bury to Norwich, Ipswich and occasionally Cambridge if you has to give on site lectures must be so tiring. Andre too seems to work long hours, though mostly on-line. They have just had no time to get their house in order, and neither could take a week off. 

Mr and Mrs Llama

Tomorrow is our 29th wedding anniversary. The boys didn't manage to get to their own house after all today, finding the delights of Cambridge hard to shake off, so they have returned here for the night, but with a gift: a Mr and Mrs Llama bride and groom to celebrate our own special day. Thank's boys! 

Ben and Kaz are back home from Wales. We had such a lovely break with them, and look forward to repeating it in the near future. Ben regrets that he could not walk up Snowdon with me when he was young, as he has done with Luke. But we did walk up mountains in Scotland, when he was very young. With Edwin, although he had many years with us and we went on many trips, none were walking or climbing holidays: I was too old then for such athletic activity. As parents, we all make so many mistakes; we can only try our best with the limited time and knowledge (and often limited money too). We all have the childhood memories we are given, and remember them fondly if they were good memories, but we all have such different memories. That is one of the many things that makes us unique. Certainly, I have some wonderful photos and memories of  all the children when they were young, and I hope they have some good memories too.

A weekend in Wales

Ben and Kaz celebrate a week away

 Ann and I had a great away weekend staying with Ben and Kaz in their rented cottage in Wales. We left home on Friday, staying with Richard, my brother, and Chris in Coventry on route. They took us out for a meal and treated us, then on Saturday Ben and Kaz cooked a great stir fry, and on Sunday they cooked a full roast lunch, so we had a very inexpensive break. The only meal we bought was a pizza in Welsh Pool just over the border. Wales is a beautiful country, but we suffered two major storms during the one weekend (Eunice and Franklin) with severe gales and heavy rain, so we didn't walk far. Indeed, visiting Aberaeron, we tried to get out of the car but the wind was so strong we could barely hold the doors open, and the wind tried to whisk us away. Ann got out, turned round, and promptly got back in the car, unable to face the wind and lashing rain to walk about looking for a pub or restaurant, so we drove back to the cottage where Ben had got a roaring log fire going. They did, however, get some good walks in during the week, once the weather had calmed down.

Welsh Pool Pizza

I should have posted this blog much sooner, but alas after the drive back, by Tuesday I was exhausted and slept for nearly 24 hours. I did manage to get to Cambridge for my routine blood test, but Ann had to drive as I was too weary. 

The boys should have been in their new house by now. They finally have the furniture in, though not yet tidied, but BT have been tardy connecting WiFi and both boys need it to work, so they are staying with us for the week. WiFi is a funny term, everyone uses it, but I suddenly realise I don't even know what it means. Apparently, it was meant to be the abbreviation for Wireless Fidelity, but the term was only created because the wireless industry wanted a name to refer to the old technology known as protocol IEEE 802.11, so created WiFi out of the air. 

 Now, my blood tests have come back with only minor deterioration, my compulsory Covid test is negative, so I am all clear to go for my third immunotherapy session on Saturday, following a period of isolation. This morning, Ann is in IKEA with MA and the girls, for a girls' day out. They love IKEA, and Ann even suggested that they should convert the old Debenhams in Bury St Edmunds to be an IKEA, so I have written to the managing director of the company to pass on her idea.

I enjoy reading before an open fire,
while the winter storms rage outside.

Living in Cloud Cuckoo Land

All my pictures of Ann seem to show her over a table with a glass of wine. In fairness, hers of me show a similar theme, but I prefer to see pictures of Ann in the blog. I don't consider myself a good sight these days. Tomorrow, we are hoping to get to Coventry where we've been invited to stay with my brother Richard and Chris, then on to stay with Ben and Kaz at their holiday cottage in Wales, so we went to Waitrose for some last-minute shopping to take. At least, Ann did some shopping while I walked the dogs in the great park at Sudbury. We then agreed to stop for a drink and a bight to eat on the way home, while I am still working and we can afford to eat. So we enjoyed a meal and a bottle of wine at the luxurious Swan Inn in Long Melford.  Also, if the forecast for this storm is correct, with its red warning over SE England and Wales, we may not even get away. They are forecasting winds of up to 100 mph, and the worst storm to hit Britain for decades. Nevertheless, unless the A14 is washed away or blocked by a string of overturned lorries, I am hopeful we will get through if we time it for after the eye of the storm has passed.

I have just finished a book called Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr. It is without doubt one of the most unusual books I have read, switching constantly and rapidly not just from century to century, but also between characters and places even launching into a SciFi future following a climate apocalypse in Earth. I think the true protagonist is the book of the same name written by the Greek Diogenes. Indeed, it isn't even the story of a physical book, but rather the story within the book, both how it survived floods, wars and fires, yet still lives on through a last remaining tattered partial copy recently unearthed in the Vatican library. Yet somehow the double story of Cloud Cuckoo Land, both by Diogenes and by Doerr, represents our own lives in many ways, and cries out to preserve the lives we have rather than chasing chimeric illusions. Even at 600 pages, I could not put it down till I had finished and I recommend this book for anyone looking for a thoughtful read and a gripping tale. 

Ann loves trees

Lebanon Cedar Tree in Winter sunrise 

Hardwick Heath Park in Bury St Edmunds is commanded by a number of great Lebanese cedars, planted 200 years ago when the Park was part of a great estate. We often park there when visiting the hospital, as the carparking is much cheaper, and it is but a short walk through the grounds to Bury Hospital. Also, its vast acreage is a paradise for dog walkers, where they can run free of the leash to their heart's content.

I was there a few weeks ago, having dropped Ann off at the hospital for an early 8:00 a.m. outpatient eye appointment. It was the moment of sunrise, seen against a clear blue sky through the trees, with heavy frost upon the ground, the sun reflecting fiery red off the trunk and branches of the great cedar. It was a rare, memorable sight in a deep winter January morning that I felt compelled to capture in paint. I was there for two hours while Ann was being examined, and gave the dogs two long walks that cheered them considerably.  I am quite pleased with the final picture, and will present it to Ann framed, as a testament to her love of trees and her bravery in facing a very difficult cataract operation. 

After the cataract surgery the immediate effect was to leave her blind with the eye weeping. Happily her sight has finally improved, the eye is less sore, and she is beginning to see more clearly through that eye, though still only with peripheral vision due to the central hole.

We enjoy the Globe's hospitality

In more up-to-date news, after visiting Waitrose yesterday we stopped at The Globe in Clare, a wonderful old-fashioned pub that has resisted all temptations to modernise or serve food. It is a pure drinking emporium, now privately owned so not tied to Green King. We had not been in since before the lockdowns, and it was good to see it packed, with a wonderful fire in the hearth. Most people there were on first-name terms with each other and with the landlord (whose name is Andy). They were mostly young, and many were just standing chatting despite a number of empty seats. Ann enjoyed her usual wine, while I sampled a fine Dalwhinnie, one of a number of whiskeys on the shelf. It is a good landlord who favours a selection of whiskeys rather than boasting of fifty weird gins just to be in fashion.

Edwin and Andre have finally signed the agreement on a rental house in Bury St Edmunds, and have been given the keys. They plan to move in next weekend. Unfortunately, Edwin has now developed Covid, and is quite ill with it. He wasn't able to get the keys with Andre, or meet the landlord at the house, but she left them a card and bottle of bubbly to welcome them. They hoped to have us round for a final meal with them before they move, but that too is now not happening. 

We will be away next weekend, going to stay with Ben and Kaz in Wales. We had planned to stay in a hotel en route to break the journey, but brother Richard and Chris have just invited us to stay a night with them, the first time we will have seen them for two years, so we look forward to meeting up again. Just sorry we are missing Edwin's new start in a new home.