The boys took Ann to the Stonehenge exhibition yesterday. Although it is something I would have loved to see, Ann walked five miles. London is like that - there is a plethora of transport with tubes, buses, taxis and Ubers, yet one always seems to walk miles between places. The British Museum itself is huge, so many of those miles were trodden in its hallowed corridors. Quite rightly, they all think I would not have made the journey, and I believe they are sensibly correct. Their only brickbat was to suggest I could have gone round in a wheelchair. While this is probably true, at the moment I value my independence more than a visit to the BM, so I will continue to walk locally within a shrinking radius.
Edwin was invited to one of the ancient colleges of the University of Cambridge this week. Emmanuel College was founded in the reign of Elizabeth the First, and is filled with tradition supplemented by fine wine. Edwin is now professionally engaged as a post-graduate advisor at UEA and Ipswich, and he appears to have held an interesting debate with one professor about the state of finances outside the golden courts of Oxbridge. Over the cheese and port, he was also able to chat with the guest of honour and alumnus of the college, Sebastian Faulks and his wife. Edwin has the remarkable ability to talk easily with people from all walks of life, and is brilliant at making new contacts. I feel his future is only just beginning, and we wish him all success and joy in the journey ahead.
Getting ready for the bath |
The boys had read that finely ground oatmeal in the bath may help itching. My skin is a perpetual irritation, both to myself and to those who watch me trying to stop scratching, so they have ground up Quaker porridge oats in their food blender for me to try. I must admit there does seem to be some benefit, and I am certainly having more baths, which is like stepping in a large bowl of thin gruel. I suppose it is no different in principle to Cleopatra bathing in sour milk. One of the strange side effects I currently have is persistent tingling of the fingertips, and moderate numbness. This means I have to be particularly careful picking things up, especially glassware, as I am becoming even more clumsy than usual.
Once, the news on TV or wireless was a broad sweep of world and local events. Nowadays, especially with TV news, they seem only able to focus on one subject at a time, with undue emphasis on "vox pop". This week with our (largely) government-induced financial problems, they have switched from war to impoverishment. COVID hardly gets a mention despite hospital admissions for the over sixties being greater than at the height of the pandemic. I wonder what next week's cataclysm will be.