Unexpected treats

Wonderful Yorkshire cheeses

Suddenly we are getting some wonderful presents. Yesterday, the fruit from Lucy; today, a selection of Wensleydale Creamery cheeses, butter and crackers from Yorkshire, sent by Matthew and Rosie! We love cheese, and will enjoy these. I especially like a slice of Wensleydale eaten with rich Christmas cake in the Yorkshire tradition, with a glass of mature port. Delicious.

Also out of the blue came a copy of a letter from brother Richard. Ann had asked him if he had any information about my father in the war. This was a letter he wrote to mum when he was courting, in 1941, and everything in it was new to me. Seven pages long, it is extraordinarily well written, full of good humour while showing great strength of character. He was a sapper in the Royal Engineers, which I had not known, billeted at that time in Grimsby. He was looking forward to meeting mum again in Southsea when she was to be bridesmaid to someone I knew as Aunt Jenny (In those days, all my mother's friends were 'Aunt' or 'Uncle').  He even mentions indirectly the recent budget, saying:

"This budget sure is a robbery. I feel sorry for your dad whose beer and tobacco is his only enjoyment. It looks to me that they have taxed the working people far greater in percentage than the rich, & that we don't only have to fight this war for them, but pay for it for them. take us lads up here for instance, most of us are broke & have to keep in nearly every evening... it is going to take all my time saving up for fares etc, can't afford to go round to the local pub so much as I used to."

He also adds that they must write longer letters to make the most from the newly increased postal charge of 2½d [old pence - equivalent to 1p in new money]. I was intrigued so looked up details of this wartime budget. It had been presented by the Chancellor, Sir John Simon, in April of that year, and sure enough makes reference to increasing the duty on cigarettes and alcohol. Definitely "plus ca change...", for the papers today also refer to increasing the duty on everything to pay for the war on Corona virus.

A slow return to normality?

A welcome gift

As the government ease restrictions, allowing a short drive for a walk, I chose to visit an old haunt in Clare. I kept seeing people I used to know in our former life reminding me that, one day, things will return to normality. Parking behind the Swan to go up through the fields beyond the nuttery I met the manager, Nick, mounted on a mower. He has furloughed his staff, but is fortunate that the pub owner has agreed to waive rent for the duration, so hopes his cash reserves will last out the lockdown.

Talking in the street to a couple of old customers was his neighbour, the owner of Hudgies. The house was built for linen weaving in the late 17th C. before becoming an ironmongers and hardware shop. David, the owner, has run it for eighteen years, but has been trying to sell it for the last couple of years to retire. In the present climate, he may be there for a while longer.

Driving home, I saw a familiar figure, name unknown, walking his dogs. He is a large man but walks two tiny Norfolk terriers and always wears a black rodeo hat. I only see him walking between Clare and Chilton Street, but I used to see him so often, whatever time I went, walking in one direction or the other I used to think he must do it all day. The path along that stretch is very narrow, with generally a lot of traffic passing, so I always wonder why he chooses such a location with numerous walks and woods round Clare.

Then, on the doorstep this afternoon, had been left a box with a wonderful gift inside. It was filled with a delicious selection of fruit, a gift from Lucy. It is fantastic to be so remembered, and hugely appreciated. She had arranged a big family get-together in August, but this has now been cancelled. We are separated by a large distance, so are unlikely to meet for some time, so this is a good reminder of happier times to come.

Beware strange men

Ann answered a knock at the door this morning to a man offering to trim our large maple tree. It does cause a lot of work from the vast quantity of leaves and seeds that fall, plus constant birds' mess on the parked cars. We've had it trimmed a couple of times when branches were overgrowing the road or getting too close to the house, but it's not too bad at the moment. I'm not supposed to even answer the door at the moment, but the man was very persistent so to try and get rid of him, Ann told him we didn't need it cutting at present, but we were thinking of having it cut down at the end of the year. He immediately countered by saying he'd give a quote to cut it down, so to try and put him off Ann said she'd have to speak to me. A little later, he came back so I answered the door.

"I'm working in the neighbourhood," he said, "so I can do it for a good price. It would normally be £450, but I can cut it down to the ground today for £350." I said I'd have to think about it, and would call him back if I decided to have it done. "I'll tell you what," he then said, "I'm just finishing your neighbour's tree, so I can do it for a bargain price of £320, and take away the bits."

I still said no, and asked him which neighbour, "Is it Number 1 opposite?"

"Yes," he said, "I'm working at Number 1." I told Ann, and went upstairs to look while she went outside to see if she could see where he was working. There was no sign of him, then Ann came in and said, "I was looking at the house opposite, and suddenly saw a big Number 2. We are Number 1!"

This lockdown is certainly addling our brains. "Well, it was a good trick question to set him," I said defensively. "He fell straight into it - he didn't realise it couldn't have been Number 1 either." Later, we found a message on the Hundon Facebook page warning that he was touring the village looking for work, but also looking for somewhere to dump his rubbish. I think if he had cut down our tree, he would have left the bits on our drive, telling us he'd be back later to clear them up!

My hair was beginning to look more scraggy than Boris's, for it hadn't been cut for several weeks. Today, Ann volunteered to trim it. In her youth, Ann had a Saturday job in a salon, so she has some experience, and I'm pleased to say she did a very good job. Meanwhile, we continue to enjoy the box of wines Edwin and Andre sent us (see Enjoying lockdown), and pondering Boris's ambiguous message about whether we can go out or not, to sit on a beach of picnic (but not in any beauty spots), and what shops may open when. He has managed to make the whole process sound as confusing as it ever was, with ministers contradicting each other and no clear instruction whatsoever. I think the lockdown has addled his brain too.

Art vs. science

We held another quiz last night, run by Edwin and Andre. HouseParty has a limit of 8 channels, so this time we used Google Hangouts, which allows more participants, and worked very well. Edwin has a mug with "Don't make me put on my school-teacher's look", and took on has school-masterly voice to present, with Power-Point illustrations. This time, Ann and I won. Some people were saying, "Clever dad", and other complementary comments, but these days I am brain dead and it was Ann who gave the majority of the correct answers.

Walking the dogs yesterday, it was so hot it was hard to remember it is still spring. The track was lined with huge arrays of hedgerow flowers, the chestnuts are in glorious display, and the path had a thick carpet of catkin blossoms underfoot. Through my window this morning was a solitary vapour trail, clearly visible on Flight-Radar in its isolation as an ancient Douglas MD-11 cargo plane from Liège to Whidbey Island in USA. Nothing else was flying north of London. Whidbey Island is so small it was hard to find on a map, and there seems to be nothing much there. The sky has been so clear, warm and dry recently, more like the summers we imagine from our childhood. I wondered if there is a link; could huge numbers of vapour trails world-wide affect the weather, bringing cloud and rain? Air traffic has fallen by over 95%, an unbelievable change, so perhaps it is having an effect beyond just blue skies and peaceful days.

Moon over Glastonbury Tor by Ann

Yesterday, we continued our art work. At least, Ann did - producing a beautiful picture of a full moon over Glastonbury Tor. I am realising how little I know about art. Artists go to art school for a reason - to actually learn about mixing colours, brush technique, and a thousand other topics of which I am totally ignorant. I have tried watching some lessons on YouTube, but every artist has a different way of doing things, often completely opposite to each other.

The beauty of science is when the equations work out. One can repeat the experiments, or re-do the maths, and generally the results are in agreement. Where they are not, either we have discovered a new understanding of nature or - more likely - we've made a mistake. To my mind, the biggest mystery in science now is why our two greatest theories - quantum mechanics and general relativity - are irreconcilable, but even there we live in hope and expectation that one day another Einstein will provide an answer. Art has no right or wrong way - it is supposed to be an expression of feeling, or of the inner soul for the more spiritual. My art is just a blobby mess, and doesn't express anything except a total lack of ability. There may be no one right way to do things in art, but there sure are a lot of wrong ways.

V.E. Day in Hundon

V.E.-day in Hundon

Today is V.E. day, with a few houses in Hundon celebrating. On our road, four neighbours sat outside with drinks, while down the road a couple of families gathered on the grassy strip in front of their houses to have picnics and listen to 40's music. At 7pm, someone found an air-raid siren to stir the air with its deep wailing, followed by the all clear signal. We raised a flag in our garden, salvaged from our boating days, while across the road another neighbour hung Union Jack bunting and a large flag outside, but otherwise celebrations in the village were sparse.

Ann's father was a Chindit still serving in the Far East on V.E. day, for that war went on for another four months. Part of any war celebrations are the songs of Vera Lynn, and Ann's father heard her sing when she flew out to the Far East to entertain the troops there in the Burma campaign, for she realised that everyone else had forgotten them. Indeed, they were called "the forgotten army".

Matthew's Rose Moon

Back in this century, the government continue to send mixed messaging, first releasing strong hints that the lockdown would be relaxed this weekend, but now contradicting themselves, saying there will be minimal easing yet. We are all confused, and it is no wonder we treat them with disdain. Leadership they are not showing; merely vacillation and uncertainty.

Last night was a full moon, the last supermoon of the year, called a Flower Moon. It was clearly visible, but the best image was sent to us by Matthew.

Enjoying lockdown

Blocked off benches

The government has proclaimed that short drives for long walks are permissible, so today, I tested that indulgence. I drove to Rodbridge Park at Sudbury to walk the animals. For me, it was a short drive and a long walk, though clearly "short" and "long" are ill-defined measurements; others may claim it's a long drive and a very short walk!

A notice at the entrance instructed us to "park carefully", and only if we could leave a good gap from others. In the park, there were a good number of walkers, but the open spaces are enough to leave plenty of room as each group manoeuvred round the other. All the benches were taped up to stop us sitting down, which is hard for the oldies who need a rest, even on a short (in this context, I mean long!) walk. I was walking through a heavily wooded area when the phone went; it was one of the agencies updating me on the work position. Happily, the council had not taped off any of the fallen trees, so I could sit comfortably on a massive felled oak for my conversation. The dogs went exploring in the woods, then tried to paddle and swim in a stagnant pond amongst the trees, so I had to keep calling them out. I think the recruiter was more envious than annoyed at me.

A case of wine arrives!

Back at the house, we were totally surprised by an unexpected gift — this time from Edwin and Andre. They sent a dozen bottles of high quality wine to enjoy through the hours of confinement. What a welcome treat. We seem to be getting through rather more wine even than we habitually take. We enjoyed a sample as we await the next guidelines on relaxing the lockdown. At the moment, the messages are of total confusion. Is it to be extended for another three weeks? Or will the hints appearing in the papers of a partial relaxation really occur on Monday? No one seems to know, much less the government. If it's safe on Monday, why not now? Are they waiting for the number of infections or the death rate to fall below some magic number? No one can tell. We are left completely in the dark. Meanwhile, we can enjoy the view from the window of a sunny, warm spring day, with a glass of delicious wine. There are worse ways to suffer from house arrest.

The view from the window

Painting Grayson

At last the daily death rate in the UK appears to be falling rapidly. Although the timing is broadly in line with my original projections, it may be seen that the initial rate of infection was much higher, and the total numbers increased rapidly. Once lockdown was imposed, the curve flattened dramatically and I have revised the predicted total rate downwards to 40,000, and at the current rate, the final figure from this first wave is likely to be nearer 30,000 deaths. The lockdown has certainly been effective, and will soon be eased. But the one certainty is how little we know of this Chinese disease, only time can tell what will happen next.

Flowers from Mary-Anne

We received a mystery box in the post today, which contained six small pots of flowers, bright and cheerful. We discovered that Mary-Anne had sent it, which was lovely surprise.

We are also continuing our painting. We were inspired by Grayson Perry's new Channel 4 program, Art Club. On television he is boisterous and lively, with a ready laugh and totally encouraging to the artists who send him their work, but Ann looked him up to discover he came from a very poor background with a dreadful childhood. In homage I chose to paint a portrait of him and his wife, Philippa, who in contrast was from a very wealthy background having been to bording school and finishing school in Switzerland. I have therefore portrayed him with a deep, sad look rather that the jocular face he shows the world. Also, I have painted him in straight dress rather than his trademark doll-like cross dressing. Knowing now something of his background, I believe this is part of his front to the world, a thin cover for a deep unhappiness.

Grayson and Philippa Perry

His wife appears in the programmes as someone who is always there for him. I believe she is fiercly loyal, and would defend Grayson to the death. I have therefore tried to show her as standing behind his shoulder, with a look of  gritty determination to defend him from anyone who dares to attack him. She is an artist in her own right, but also a professional psychotherapist. She has a very round face, accentuated by huge circular glasses that dominate her face. They have already turned our lives to a new direction, and are both so expressive it is a pleasure to paint them.