Zooming along the Highways – speeding along the Byways!

Well, the memory of the Duke of Edinburgh’s recent traffic accident, which was top of the news for quite a while, has now faded away.  As he had handed in his driving licence, the police decided not to proceed further and my suggestion for a new road sign in Norfolk is now redundant.

 

I was going to submit a design for a new warning sign: a white triangle with a red border and a picture of a black bowler hat inside.  Underneath would be a notice on the lines of:

Caution!
Duke’s Crossing ahead
Please drive very slowly and with extreme care for the next 500 yards.

 

Every year many drivers decide (due to illness, an accident or a bad scare on the road) to hand in their licence and sell their car.  Many of them live in remote areas of the country.

Little by little they become very restricted and have to ask

Angels, as their neighbours become, to help them to get around.

 

The Duke of Edinburgh is a very lucky chap and I wonder if he realises just how lucky he is.  If he decides he wants to pop into town, he has got a whole team of people on hand, any one of whom will drive him in and wait until he is ready to come back.  So, he can easily nip into the Post Office for some stamps and notecards, then to the greengrocer for a bag of apples, and, finally to the Market-Place Café for a pot of tea, an iced bun and a long chat with whoever is in that afternoon to catch up on all the gossip.  Then, when he wants to go home, a lift straight back and no need to apologise for taking so long or feeling beholden to the driver for his or her kindness that day.

 

It is amazing how news items suddenly get everybody all in a lather and then vanish without trace, but the underlying story has often not gone away and (not the Duke of Edinburgh of course) many riders and drivers who were formerly fully independent and mobile, living in remote areas, have to face up to a whole raft of difficulties and expense in getting around.

 

There are numerous ways to help these people and it is a shame that the Duke of Edinburgh has now retired from public life as he would be well suited to spearhead some form of action to help many more of these disadvantaged and often isolated one-time drivers.

 

However, if the driver lives fairly close to the edge of a village or town, there is a solution.  This is the MOBILITY SCOOTER to get around and about.

 

These devices come in all shapes and sizes with varying speed levels and manoeuvrability.  They can be driven without need of a licence or medical check.  Some will be seen pottering gently along the pavement and pedestrians can easily avoid these scooters.  But some drivers will tear around as if they were the only person on the pavement.  Many people can say that they have had to skip aside pretty smartly when a mobility scooter has careered around a corner in front of them speeding along the pavement.  We do not need any more legislation, there are enough laws already, but we need to slow some of these scooters down a bit!  Also, some of the drivers may be a bit ambitious, expecting their scooter to do more than it is capable of: entering some shops can be difficult if the scooter wheels are too small for the threshold and driving into the countryside could be problematical if your wheels sink into the ground and you have to be pulled free.

 

Where we used to live, in St Albans, we knew a couple of disabled ladies who each had a pretty powerful mobility scooter.  Returning from town, they would pass in front of our house and then spin round a corner to go up to their home.  Their little dog would sit in the handlebar basket of the lead scooter, front paws on the basket and ears waggling.  At this particular corner, there was a dip in the pavement and if you hit this at high speed - and these ladies always did – the scooter would bounce and their dog would fly up.  He was airborne!  He was flying!  Waggly ears flapping in the breeze.  Did he love it?  You bet he did!

Ever wondered why the HMRC Tax Year finishes on the 5th April each year? Wonder no more, please read on.

Julius Caesar:

It all starts with Julius Caesar.  No, it starts a long time before him, but he is far enough back for our purposes.  The calendar in ancient Roman times was in a complete mess.  We tend to take the calendar for granted, but it is very important to keep an accurate calendar in place for a number of reasons.  Farming, in particular is one: farmers need to know the dates so that they can prepare to carry out all their essential operations at the right times in the year.  Four important, fixed events occur during the year: the two Solstices and the two Equinoxes, these “anchor” the calendar and the seasons fit around these dates.

The winter solstice on 22^nd December is when the day is the shortest and the night is the longest;
the summer solstice on 21^st June is the longest day of the year and when the night is the shortest;

the spring (Vernal) and autumn (Autumnal) equinoxes on 20^th March and 23^rd September are when the day and the night are of equal length.
Over time, the ancient Roman calendar which had started in synchronisation with the solar (or tropical) year, being the time it takes the Earth to orbit the Sun from one Vernal Equinox to the next, had gone completely adrift and confusion reigned.

To correct this, and get the calendar back on track, Caesar commissioned philosophers, mathematicians and astronomers to measure the year length accurately.  They worked out that the year was 365 and a quarter days long which, with the mathematics of the time, was pretty close.  To correct this, they devised a system with three years of 365 days followed by one of 366 and that was imposed in 45 BC (our time) - known as the year of confusion because it was made up to 445 days long - to correct previous errors.

However, the solar year is currently 365 days, 5 hours, 48 minutes and 46 seconds (*).  But even this figure fluctuates all the time as the Earth wobbles in its orbit around the Sun and is tilted on its axis: which causes the seasons to follow each other over the year.  This meant that, over the years and the centuries, the calendar started to drift again.

Gradually a clamour rose to get the calendar corrected.  Mainly this was from monks and priests because they were greatly concerned that prayers were not being made on the correct days for their appropriate saints and intercessions would not be answered.

Aloysius Lilius:

Before we reach Gregory XIII’s commission to reform the calendar, this good doctor’s contribution must be acknowledged.  Lilius looked at all of the years since the Julian calendar started, compared how many days were recorded for each year with the length of that particular solar year, the variance and the cumulative variance.  This work amounts to over 1600 rows of data and cries out to be loaded on a spreadsheet.  If only this man had a personal computer with a good spreadsheet programme it would have saved him so much work.  I would do anything I could to give him my PC, but it is far too late now.

Lilius, and others engaged in investigating the calendar, were greatly helped in this era by the advances in understanding of mathematics at the time resulting from scholarly research coming from India, Persia, Greece, Arabian and Jewish intellectuals.  Lilius was now able to examine the results of his calculations in the light of current mathematical processes and observe clearly the trends in the information.

The correction to the Julian calendar was, in fact, very simple.  He understood that it would be impossible to get the calendar that we use to fit in perfectly with the solar year as this is a variable.  To keep “our” year fairly close, he calculated that the leap years should be continued, but leap centuries needed to enter the equation.  To be a leap century, the year should be divisible not by four but by four hundred.  The years 1600, 2000 and 2400 are leap centuries but 1700, 1800 and 1900 are not; in other words, for every 400-year cycle there will be 97 leap years (containing a 29^th February) not 100.  Also, ten days needed to be deducted from the current Julian calendar, then everything would be back on track.

Unfortunately, Aloysius Lilius died before the commission started its work, but his brother was on the commission and was able to present his report.

Gregory XIII:

Eventually, in the 1570s, Pope Gregory XIII established the long-awaited commission to reform the calendar.  Antonio Lilius (brother of Aloysius) supported the leap-century proposal.  The commission debated for a number of years and went deep into the mathematics and astronomy of the situation discovering, as did Aloysius and others, that the solar year is just too variable for the precision they sought.  Eventually they all came around to the Lilius plan which was presented to the Pope, adopted, sent to various monarchs and authorities around Europe for approval then implemented in 1582.

Ten days were, therefore, dropped from the calendar that year and henceforth the New Year would start on the 1^st January each year (not the 25^th March).

Roman Catholic countries took up the Gregorian calendar fairly quickly, but it was rejected by the Protestant and Orthodox countries.  Queen Elizabeth and her advisers were quite interested and would have adopted the calendar there and then; however, the Church of England objected strongly to this Papist plot and it was not pursued at that time.

Over time, though, many countries adopted the Gregorian calendar.

Great Britain:

Britain stuck to the Julian calendar for a long time and for international communications was content to have OS (for Old Style) and NS (for New Style) on its correspondence but Parliament was encouraged to correct the Calendar.  The Church of England, this time, gave their full approval.  Britain had to drop eleven days from the calendar in 1752 (as the Julian calendar was even more adrift against the Gregorian calendar when the change was made here) as well as the change to the New Year date and implementation of the Leap Century rule.  The change was made in September of that year with the 3^rd to the 13^th days “removed”.

To forestall much of the confusion that had happened on the Continent previously, a very comprehensive Bill was placed before and accepted by Parliament: the Calendar (New Style) Act 1750, to resolve as many problems as possible before the change happened.

Legislation provided for payment of wages and interest not to include the eleven lost days; when children should reach the age of majority, soldiers and servants should complete their indentures and prisoners should be released from jail.

There was a significant “Give us back our Eleven Days!” protest, but this was ignored by the Government.  The Church of England, the newspapers and the Establishment got on with the New Style calendar, problems arose, but these were dealt with pragmatically.

The Quarter Days:

In Mr Duncan’s very comprehensive and wide-ranging book (details below), he mentions very briefly that London bankers objected to paying tax on 25th March 1753 (New Style) and the end of the tax year was moved forward eleven days to accommodate that.  I think there was more to it than that as the Act of 1750 covered calculation of wages, salaries, interest etcetera quite comprehensively  Tax, therefore, would only be paid for one year on a “different” date and the Government had already ignored the “Give us back our Eleven Days” movement.  My supposition is that the change was due more to Government finances than any other reason.

Governments raise money by taxation and borrowing.  The Bank of England (for instance) was established in 1694 to raise the sum of £1,200,000.00 to finance the war against France.

Borrowing by way of Treasury Bills and Bonds gives the Government more certainty about their finances than just relying on taxation.  For instance, Treasury Bills maturing up to 2068 are currently trading on the London Stock Exchange.  In the 1750s the situation would be much the same with the Government borrowing long-term on the Markets and paying interest each quarter on the Quarter Days.

The Quarter Days are an old and traditional part of the commercial landscape, they are:

25^th March (Lady Day)                       24^th June (Midsummer)

29^th September (Michaelmas)           25^th December (Christmas)

On these days Hiring Fairs would take place in Market Towns across the land where farmers and estate-owners would select and employ workers for the next season.  Rents, repayments and interest instalments for financial transactions would all fall due on the Quarter Days.  Yes, you are right, Christmas Day was a significant working day until relatively recently.

When Charles Dickens wrote “A Christmas Carol” in the 1840s, Christmas Day – the Quarter Day – was very definitely a working day.  Bob Cratchit did not get the day off and, as he was working for Mr Scrooge - a money-lender, this would be a very busy day indeed as any number of customers would be coming in to the office to pay off loans or to pay the interest due that quarter.  Bob would not be able to enjoy the Christmas jollifications with his family until the day’s work was finished and he eventually got home.

When the Bank Holidays Act 1871 was passed (eventually repealed by the Banking and Financial Dealings Act 1971), Christmas Day had already become an accepted Public Holiday and was not the subject of that Act.

Lady Day, the 25^th March 1753 being effectively the “old” new year’s day would be the day that a large number of Government Bills and their “coupon” (interest) would be payable, and on the same date each year for a long time into the future.  The Government could see the impact on their finances of continually having to pay interest on its borrowings for the eleven days removed from the calendar.  They baulked at this and unilaterally moved the payment date forward to the 5^th April each year to save this expense.  This new date obviously stuck and from then on became the British Government’s financial year end, thus breaking the link with the Quarter Days forever.

Every now and then a minor adjustment takes place in the calendar year, but the addition of an extra second now and again is not something that we often notice.

Occasionally the calendar does show an intriguing juxtaposition, such as Ash Wednesday (the start of Lent) being followed exactly a week later by National No Smoking Day.

Recommended reading

David Ewing DUNCAN “The Calendar.  The 5000-year Struggle to Align the Clock and the Heavens – and What Happened to the Missing Ten Days.” Fourth Estate – 1998.

Jacqueline De BOURGOING “The Calendar.  Measuring Time.  New Horizons.” Thames and Hudson – 2001.

(*) Glenn Research Centre – NASA:

https://www.grc.nasa.gov/www/k-12/Numbers/Math/Mathematical_Thinking/calendar_calculations.htm (21 March 2019)

Silver buttons

This article is something of a follow-up to the one on Leadenhall Market, so, if you have not read the “London Markets” item published on the 18^th February 2019, may I suggest that you read that one first before continuing with this one?

I was recruited by Barclays Bank International Ltd (BBI) in the early 1970s and in my career with BBI and Barclays Bank plc served mostly in City branches and Head Office departments.  Barclays Bank International - at the time – carried out the Barclays Group’s overseas operations, dealing mainly with international trade and relationships which is where I worked for much of my career.  Once in the Bank, I started to meet an essential group of staff: the Bank Messengers.

Most branches had one or two Bank Messengers, bigger branches would have a small team and Head Office buildings and Departments would have quite a large team (some allocated to a specific area and some floating).  The main duty of the messengers was to carry out a wide range of roles within the Bank: reception and security for some buildings, lots of hand delivery of urgent items, getting clearing items and vouchers collected from and delivered to the right areas for processing and something of a Mr Fix-It in the branch where they were based.  The messengers were predominantly male when I started work for BBI but, by the time that I left the Bank, there were quite a few ladies carrying out that role.

Some of the Bank messengers working in 54 Lombard Street were very much “on parade” and two groups would wear frock coats to carry out their duties.  Those working on the main reception area by the “Golden Gates” and those working on the sixth floor where the Directors, the Chairman and the Board Room were established.  The long-tailed frock coats and waist-coat looked very smart and were adorned with six silver buttons bearing the Spread Eagle crest of the Bank.

I am very grateful indeed to BARCLAYS GROUP ARCHIVES for providing me with the following two images for this article.  The first picture is of one of the messenger team opening the “Golden Gates” the main entrance to 54 Lombard Street, the branch and the Head Office building for the Barclays Group at the time.

The second picture is of two of the messengers in their full finery in (I think) the old City Directors Office in 54 Lombard Street.

I do think that all three gentlemen look absolutely splendid and are a real credit to the Bank - thank you once again to Barclays Group Archives for their tremendous help in finding two such wonderful images.

One of the duties of the Head Office messenger was at lunch-time.  The Directors, in those days, had lunch in the Board Room and the messengers waited at table for them.  They took it in turns to be on the rota and (in a couple of Departments that I worked in) I knew three or four messengers who would suddenly drop whatever they were doing at mid-day and get kitted out in their official frock coat etcetera and move off pretty sharply to the Board Room to serve the Directors their lunches, returning to base later in the afternoon.

At that time, the Bank had its own catering division in the City of London, providing for staff and executives in a number of buildings.  There was a full range of facilities ranging from little tea and coffee bars, to self-service and waitress-service restaurants and bars.  Recently, I have been musing whether, when I was enjoying a vegetable curry with boiled rice and mango chutney, followed by jam roly-poly pudding and custard (say), the Directors were tucking into the same menu.  My wife tells me that was very unlikely, they were probably enjoying a much more refined diet for themselves.  The only people likely to know are the messengers and the catering staff at the time.

Being in-house everything was cooked and prepared on the individual premises where the restaurant was located so everybody who ate there could get a fresh meal each day.  Then, inevitably, one of the big catering companies took over the contract for catering for the Barclays Group and it was no longer the same any more.

But I am wondering just what the Directors once had for their lunches and if any of the frock-coated messengers reading this who served them in those by-gone days might know the answer. I would love to know.

They were not always about – the Bank messengers – as they were often so busy.  I do remember, vividly, the afternoon of my 21^st birthday when nobody else was available, walking down Lombard Street on a bright, sunny afternoon with a Bankers’ Payment for over a million pounds in my pocket – to deliver to another bank!

It is Deolali really, not Doolally.

Three cheers for the British squaddie.

He has served all around the world in major theatres of war and many little backwaters, but wherever he is, he will imprint his stamp on the area in his own inimitable fashion.

Thus in France: the city of Ypres becomes “Wipers”; 

in southern Malta: Siggiewi becomes “Ciggie-Wiggie” 

and in India: Deolali becomes “Doolally”.

Deolali is in Maharashtra province in western India and, for a long time it was the site of a British Army transit camp in the days of the Raj.   (Nowadays, the Indian Army has an artillery firing range at nearby Devlali so it still has a military connection.)  Soldiers or units of soldiers were sent to Deolali camp when they had finished an assignment or posting and waited there for orders to be cut for their next posting.

They waited … and waited.  Often waiting so long, with very little to do, they went crazy.  Tap is the Hindu word for fever and “Deolali Tap” is the term applied to any soldier who has waited too long and has gone feverish with the frustration.

My Grandfather Holland served with the South Staffordshire Regiment during the Great War or the war to end all wars (it was not until much later that it was called the First World War), he served in Egypt and India, finishing up in Deolali Camp.  I have before me now his silver cigarette case, inscribed inside:

 A Memento

 From the

 PALSAWALLAH

 Deolali 1919

It looks as if Grandfather did not get back to Blighty (from the Hindu Bilayati meaning foreign and used in the Great War to refer to England or getting back to England) for quite a while after the end of hostilities.  I do not think he was badly affected by the experience though as I remember him as quite a sensible gentleman as he grew older.

The photograph is of my two Grandfathers’ 1914 – 1918 Service medals awarded for that conflict (my Grandfather Allcock’s military service was with the Royal Artillery). 

Now, if you know anybody who is a bit addled, barmy, bonkers, crazy, crackers, cracked, cuckoo, gone with the fairies, potty and so on – you can add this to the repertoire: gone Doolally or Doolally Tap.

But, please, spell it: D - E - O - L - A - L – I.  Thank you.

One of London’s special and often reinvigorated markets.

We all know of the big, commercial, London markets: Smithfield, Billingsgate, Nine Elms / Covent Garden for meat, fish and flowers.

Then there are the very popular: Portobello Road and Petticoat Lane markets along with general and specialist markets such as Chapel Market and Leather Lane and many others.

One that I knew quite well is called Leadenhall Market, I have not been there for some years, but nowadays it is full of fashion shops, cafes, bars and is buzzing with tourists and City workers alike.

When I knew it first in the early 1970s, it was buzzing then but it was completely different.

Leadenhall Market has been in existence since the Middle Ages and, before the City of London (the Square Mile) became a financial centre, it was a residential and working district.  Samuel Pepys was one famous resident for a while and his wife’s memorial is in St Olave’s Church nearby.  Many of those living in the City used Leadenhall Market to buy much of their food, although this started to dwindle once the population declined as more and more financial companies took over land and premises to establish their offices and headquarters.

One benefit that big organisations gave for their employees was a staff restaurant so they could have a mid-day meal at work; but the directors and very senior managers were not going to mix with the employees to enjoy their lunches.  Oh no.  What many of these companies did was set up a kitchen and facilities close to the Board Room and employ one or two ladies who had graduated from one of the top Catering Colleges to cook for the Directors.  The contract for the cooks was to provide a two or three course lunch, five days a week, for all of the Directors.  No small order!

Where to get provisions and supplies on a daily basis?  There you have it: Leadenhall Market was right there and with most of the right shops already there and trading.  There were butchers (two at least that I recall and vividly remember seeing enormous turkeys hanging outside their shops at Christmas), a fishmonger, fruit and vegetable shops, bakers, a very popular cheese shop amongst others.  All that the City cooks might need (other shops were there as well, such as one ladies’ fashion boutique that Mrs A frequented, even just popping in for a look around sometimes, and an electric goods retailer with a wide range of Christmas lights in season).

Just outside Leadenhall Market, there was a spacious tobacconist on the corner of Cornhill and Gracechurch Street offering a wide selection of quality cigars (to celebrate successful deals) and wine merchants dotted here and there around the City.  I used to get my sandwiches from a tiny shop in Bulls Head Passage, where everything was freshly prepared and served in brown paper bags (no plastic), there was always a long queue and you had to squeeze your way inside, but the quality was second to none.  In Ship Tavern Passage there was an Italian café open from breakfast time to mid-evening where we often had snacks before going in for Dramatic Society rehearsals.

I remember a television profile of one of these City cooks who shopped for supplies for her Directors’ lunches in Leadenhall Market.  They interviewed one of the Directors of the company she worked for after lunch one day.  He commented that the meal was “… pretty good, but everyone knows a Hot-pot is really made with mutton …” Well you cannot win them all.

Eventually, things had to change.  In this case, along came a number of high-volume catering companies which bid for contracts to provide meals, snacks and refreshments for staff and senior management of the City businesses.  Usually undercutting the in-house teams because they could provide economies of scale.  Slowly, the customer base for the provisions suppliers in Leadenhall Market dwindled away and the Market changed its focus as more cafes and retail outlets took up residence to cater for the local clientele.  The Market – reinvigorated – moved on.

This is my subjective view of Leadenhall Market and this area of the City as I have seen it - and is only a blip in its long history; maybe it is up to somebody else to write the authoritative story – it should be an interesting read.

When you have recorded your message …

When you have recorded your message just hang up.

Hang up – now that is a very old phrase.  Right from the very beginnings of telephone usage.  One of the earliest styles of telephone is the candlestick variety where the mouthpiece is at the top of the stick, the earpiece is connected to the stick by a cord and, when not in use, the earpiece will hang on a little cradle or hook.  The weight of the earpiece on the cradle “closes” the connection to the telephone network, effectively ending the conversation.

This old-fashioned style of telephone has vanished forever (there are pictures all over the place though) but the phrase – “hang up” - is still in use all over the world today.  By the sound of it, nobody has come up with a better phrase to end a conversation and cut the connection between the two parties.  “Hang up”, there you are: accurate, succinct and precise; can you think of a better way of putting it? 

Nowadays, you slide your finger across the screen of your mobile telephone onto a red circle, or is it that you slide your finger from the red circle to somewhere else on the screen?  I have not the faintest idea.

Everybody uses the phrase: “Hang up”.  How many people know where it comes from?  Apart from us, of course; why not pass this vital knowledge on to anybody who might appreciate it?

“Please, don’t hang up, I must speak to you, it is so important, don’t hang up!  Don’t hang up!  Hello, hello, Operator, can you re-connect me, please?  Operator?  Operator?  Don’t hang up …”

A great theatrical knight.

Sir Donald Wolfit.

One of the last actor-managers taking his touring company on the road to produce (mainly) Shakespeare plays all over the country.  He was a highly regarded actor in his time.

At the end of a play, when the applause had died down, the curtains would open and he stepped forward to make his customary speech thanking the audience for being so appreciative and announcing his production for the next day.

On one occasion, it is said, he announced that next day “Hamlet” would be produced, he himself to play the noble Dane and her ladyship – his wife (*) - to play Ophelia.  At this point someone in the stalls shouted out: “Your wife, but she’s an old rat-bag!”

Sir Donald rocked on his heels, recovered and commenced again with a booming: “Nevertheless!”

What an awful thing to say.  I do hope he gave her a lovely bunch of flowers to say sorry.

Often my wife and I will be talking quietly together, I will use the word “Nevertheless” with the right degree of gravitas and we will chuckle happily together remembering this story - but it is only used affectionately between ourselves.

If you want to learn more about Sir Donald, please go to the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography where there is an extremely good, well-researched, authoritative article about him.  Use your County library card number to log in.

(*) I believe that this was Lady Rosalind, his third wife.

Don’t you just love anachronisms in films? … Well, no, I don’t!

We all know what an anachronism is.  Simply put, something that is said or done or appears in a film, play, radio play or book that cannot happen in the time the action is set because it did not happen until sometime later.

Imagine, if you will an audience taking place between the young Queen Victoria and her Prime Minister, Lord Melbourne.  She asks him what the time is.  He would not slip back the cuff of his left sleeve with his right forefinger, look at his wrist and tell her that it is just after noon.  This would not be possible, as wristwatches were not developed until the 20^th century to help pilots who needed accurate and easy to read timekeepers to help them to navigate aeroplanes to their destinations.  Lord Melbourne, therefore, no matter how up to date he was, could not own a wristwatch.

Many anachronisms appear on our screens, some we notice, some we do not – but there will always be somebody who picks up something.  If the film, say, is a real attempt to depict a particular historical event, then those producing it should try to get as much accuracy as possible.  However, some films do not make much of an attempt at historical accuracy in pursuit of telling a rip-snorting story that will appeal to a modern audience.

My general gripe is about archers in various Robin Hood type stories or many set during medieval battles.  Imagine, if you will, the company of archers ready for the word of command, the captain steps forward and shouts “Fire!” at the top of his voice.  In my mind’s eye, I can see the bowmen relaxing their strings, looking around concernedly and shouts of “Where is it?”, “Has anybody got any water?” and “Ooh heck, be careful, I am down to my last set of bowstrings!”

The command “Fire” did not come in until firearms were in general use on the battlefield (17^th century perhaps?) and until then the command would have been “Loose!” or “Shoot!” 

Our great scriptwriter: William Shakespeare concluded his play “Hamlet” with a speech by Fortinbras, prince of Norway, that ends:

“Take up the bodies, such a sight as this

Becomes the field but here shows much amiss

Go, bid the soldiers shoot.”

Finis

I expect to carry on wincing every time I see Robin Hood looking heroic and shouting out “Fire!” to his fellow outlaws.  Please feel free to shout out: “He wouldn’t say that!” to the screen when you hear it.

Finally, “The Lion in Winter”, the wonderful film starring Peter O’Toole as King Henry II and Katherine Hepburn as Eleanor of Aquitaine.  Three little quibbles here.

Their meeting was held at Christmas-time and Queen Eleanor brought Christmas presents with her, I do not think that they would have given Christmas presents to each other at that time.  Gifts, yes, but the concept of a Christmas present is something that came in much later, I think.

At one point, Henry says to Eleanor that she “would lower her democratic drawbridge to anyone.”  Democratic?  Henry regarded himself as an absolute ruler subject only to the constraints of his barons and the Church.  The idea that the people (peasants in his eyes) had a right to govern themselves would be laughable to him and it is doubtful that his tutors would have included this word (from Classical Greek) in his vocabulary when he was in education.

The word “democracy” only appears in the English language in 1574 (*) – I am sorry but I do not know where it was written down first.  It would definitely not have been in use in Henry II’s time.

Finally, near the end of the film, in a chilly room, late at night, Henry and Eleanor are talking together, when they hear a wolf or wolves howling outside.  One says, “It’s like a jungle out there.”  A jungle!  Twelfth Century Europe and the British Isles were, at the time, covered in forests inhabited by outlaws, wolves, deer, badgers and wild boar and barely a tiger in sight.  The word “jungle” does not enter the English language until 1776 (*).  The word comes from Hindu, Marathi and Sanskrit sources and originally meant waste land, dry ground, land overgrown with underwood, long grass or tangled vegetation.  Once again, a word that neither Henry nor Eleanor would ever have used.

But, in the Great Scheme of Things – it does not matter a jot!  I think that any film is an unreliable witness to the world we live in.  Consider this: “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story”.  The screenwriters, producers and directors of a film will never get it completely right, so, despite what I said earlier, please do not jump up and shout out that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.  Just sit back, relax (or try to) and enjoy the film with everybody else in the cinema.  Wince quietly, gnash and grind your teeth, then go home and write about it.

Happy viewing!

(*) The Shorter Oxford English Dictionary – Third Edition reprinted with corrections – 1964.

Motherhood - or Fatherhood

I heard a very good poem on the radio the other day.  This was “Walking Away” by Cecil Day-Lewis.

It was about a parent watching a young child on the sports field.  The poet did not specify a father or a mother, but I felt that it sounded like a mother to me.

The poem eavesdropped on a mother’s thoughts as she remembered watching her little boy playing football for the first time at school eighteen years earlier.

Her emotions churned inside her as she watched her son interacting - tentatively – with the other boys.

The poem finished:

                “Selfhood begins with walking away.

                Love is proved in the letting go.”

I found this incredibly poignant and moving; especially when you think of the words “proof” and “prove”.  Nowadays, they are used glibly to mean: “Oh , yeah, that’s all right then.”

But, really they refer to something or someone placed in the crucible and tested in the absolute heat of the fire or furnace.

In context then, we can feel the burning torment that the mother knows she will feel as, by degrees, her son walks away.

So sad.

Now, please, go and read the poem yourself and see how you feel about it.

So, you will be here tomorrow then … ?

First published on Linked In 4 October 2018

It has happened again, as it has happened so many times in the past to us.

Once again, a Service Engineer / Repair Operative has not turned up on the day expected; there is always a reason but it is still galling for us, and you, when you are on the receiving end.  And everything has to be re-booked.

The first time this happened was shortly after we were married.  We were living on the top floor of a three-storey block and had ordered a new washing machine.  I stayed in especially for the delivery.  The driver’s mate announced their arrival on the intercom and said they would be up shortly.  Lo and behold, only minutes later I was called with the message that the machine was broken when it was unpacked and they would have to take it back and order another.  Hmm, now was it really damaged or did they look at the stairs and decide they did not fancy carting our new pride and joy up three flights?  We shall never know, but I can guess – and the waiting time came out of my annual leave.

Numerous incidents happened (and are still happening) over the years; and I am now retired.

Earlier this year, our current washing machine broke down and I made arrangements for a Service Engineer to come and (hopefully) fix it.  The manufacturers (B****) set the date and said the engineer would be with us between 7 am and 5 pm and would ring us shortly before arrival so we could put the kettle on.  It took a couple of such visits to ascertain what exactly needed replacing – and this had to be ordered in, nothing being kept in stock these days.

So far, so good, the telephone call came a few days later and they suggested the next Friday; great, I then wrote “B**** 7 am to 5 pm Washer repair” against Friday’s date on the calendar.  On the Friday, I waited and, eventually, at a quarter to five, I rang them up to be told “No, it’s not today, your repair is scheduled for Saturday”.

There was nothing I could do, the repair was completed eventually and the washer is now fine but, like you, I know the difference between “Friday” and “Saturday”.  I might be retired but having two days kiboshed instead of one is very difficult.

The latest incident happened last weekend.  We need to have my wife’s room re-decorated, I got a quotation from a decorator who said that the room would need to be cleared for him to do the work.  I rang a handyman, because my wife’s bed is electrically adjustable (the head and feet ends can both be raised or lowered by an internal motor), he said that he cannot touch disabled items and we need to get a specialist in to move it.  I rang the mobility company from whom we bought our wheel-chair and who service it each year.  They said that they can move the bed, this should only be done by trained personnel and to let them know when the painting is to start.  Modified rapture indeed.  When we reached the top of the decorator’s diary, he rang us and set a date for Monday the following week, I then arranged with the mobility company to come on the preceding Friday in the afternoon.

Come Friday – nothing.  A call to the engineer who said it should not have been booked in today and after a bit of toing and froing said he would come on Saturday between mid-day and 2 pm.  At a quarter to two on the Saturday, I rang his mobile number, now on answerphone, and left a message asking when he anticipated arriving.  Nothing happened - nobody came.

I must admit I was feeling a bit shaky by then and so a cup of tea settled the nerves somewhat.

Suitably refreshed I examined the bed properly, took the mattress off, had a good look at the frame and the base unit, came to the conclusion that you did not have to be especially trained or qualified to move the bed and went to see my brilliant neighbour, Martin, who said he would help me move the bed on Sunday afternoon.

There were three separate units to move:

The mattress – easy, lift and carry into the next room;

The drive unit and adjustable support slats – also easy as this was mounted on a rectangular wooden frame which we lifted out (like a stretcher) and carried into the next room.

The base unit and headboard – too big to move through the door, so we had to remove the headboard.

This should have been easy but, unbeknownst to us, the installer who had assembled the bed had botched the job.  The first three of the four bolts securing the headboard panel came out smooth as silk but the final one’s threads had been mangled in the securing nut which was embedded in the chipboard and could not be moved.  After a considerable amount of effort we realised that the only way to remove the bolt was to saw its head off.  Once that was done, it was a matter of minutes before we got all the parts into the next room, re-assembled the bed, tested it and checked that it was working properly again.

It took round about ninety minutes, it should have taken thirty minutes and I am incredibly grateful to Martin without whom I would have been completely and utterly lost.

Come Monday morning, the telephone rings at a quarter to eight – it is the decorator, he has a terrible cold, cannot manage today and will be in on Wednesday …

Who Cares? I care. We care. We all care!

I have mentioned my wife a couple of times in my Posts on Linked In and the fact that she is disabled.  This, therefore, seems to me a good time to fill you in about our situation.

My wife has a number of health issues which, collectively have hit her very hard and I am now her full-time carer.

There are thousands upon thousands of carers across the country.  The permutations and combinations of situations are very wide: there are husbands looking after wives and vice versa; there are mother or fathers looking after sons or daughters who are afflicted by a significant health issue; there are adult men and women looking after either their father or their mother whose health has declined.  The list is very wide, some have a family support network who can step in and help at critical moments, whilst some do not, but they all put in an enormous effort to look after their loved one.

My wife said she does not want to appear as if she is in a poppy show, but this is not the case as I am writing specifically about our situation and her problems.

For Mrs A. the significant issues (to the medical profession) are Rheumatoid Arthritis, Raynaud’s Syndrome and Lupus, the main visible indicators are pronounced curvature of the spine, also the fingers and thumbs of both hands are twisted and distorted by the Arthritis.  She also has Osteoporosis and has an injection every six months and a scan every two years to monitor the situation.  A stairlift has been installed in our house which makes getting up and down stairs much easier.

But, the major problems, really, are the chronic leg ulcer all around her right ankle and the ensuing damage to her right foot coupled with a number of falls in the last few months.

The ulcer flared up just about twelve years ago now and grew quickly in size destroying quite an area of skin.  It has reduced in area in recent years but recovery is very slow.  Treatments that have been tried include:

Compression bandaging (the standard treatment that helps most leg ulcers to clear up, but not all);

Varicose vein removal (did not make any difference – not recommended);

Skin graft (sadly this caused more problems including to the donor site on the left thigh which took many years to heal over and still remains very sensitive);

Manuka Honey (regarded by many as a miracle cure-all, however, for many patients the wound will start stinging soon after application.  We had to get the dressings off and the wound washed clean very quickly on the single occasion we tried Manuka honey);

Potassium Permanganate Tablets (dissolved in water and used to soak the wound area to help clean off surplus matter);

Granuflex Hydrocolloid Dressings (help to provide a moist wound environment);

Granugel Hydrocolloid Gel (helps to create a moist healing environment);

Maggot treatment (otherwise known as the ‘wrigglies’ which are great for removing slough and detritus from the wound to encourage healing);

Hyperbaric medicine (this involves the patients sitting in a pressure chamber – equivalent to being fourteen metres below sea level – breathing pure, high pressure oxygen.  The service is delivered by the Royal Navy / Qinetiq and the NHS in partnership and it is the same equipment used to treat divers who have got the ‘bends’).  This helped many people recover quite quickly from various injuries and treatments but, sadly, did nothing for the two ladies with leg ulcers who were treated at the same time;

Granulox (a haemoglobin spray which delivers an oxygen-rich film to the wound surface to aid recovery);

Granulated sugar (interesting treatment which is supposed to aid wound recovery, but is very effective indeed in removing slough and much less messy than the wrigglies);

Zinc Oxide (the wound is dressed in bandages which are impregnated with a Zinc paste,  The dressings did seem to encourage skin growth at the margins, but my wife found the bandaging too painful so they had to be discontinued).

These are some of the various treatments that have been used in conjunction with a range of specialised dressings to protect the wound and encourage the healing process.  A while ago, I was changing the dressings three times a day because of the level of exudate leaking through, then that improved to twice a day.  Now, I am changing the dressing once a day in the morning and checking each evening before bedtime to make sure it has not leaked through (sometimes it does and needs a bit of extra padding to keep everything ship-shape overnight). 

We see the Practice Nurse once a week to keep the situation carefully monitored.  The skin surrounding the wound is quite valid and, as far as I can see, there is nothing to stop the wound recovering.

Coupled with these problems, Mrs A has had a lot of difficulty with her hearing for a year now; we are consulting the Ear, Nose and Throat Department and have had a number of appointments.  Treatment is still continuing as infections and a polyp have been found in her ear channel and until these have been cleared we cannot get anything further done.

Mucus is being produced in industrial quantities through the nose and the throat and mouth!  Antibiotics and sprays have been prescribed on a number of occasions for this but nothing seems to abate the flow.  Also, to make matters worse, she has frequent nose bleeds for no apparent reason; and, no, she does not blow her nose too heavily – the bleeds just happen.  This is very debilitating.

Since having her cataracts operated on a couple of years ago her eyes have experienced numerous problems.  Following consultations with the Ophthalmology Department at the Hospital, we are managing the Blepharitis and Dry Eye conditions carefully at home.

She has a fistula (hole) in the roof of the palate in her mouth and an obturator is used to block the gap.  This device does not always fit securely so there are times when the hole is not protected and food or liquids can get into the sinus cavity.  Also, she is having difficulties with her lower teeth.  We are consulting a Prosthodontist recommended by our dentist to see if he can help alleviate these problems.

Our day to day situation is determined by the level of pain she experiences and how difficult it is to move about.  Mornings are particularly uncomfortable and we have to avoid booking medical appointments in the morning wherever possible.  The act of getting to and from various surgeries and or consulting rooms is also something that has to be very delicately arranged.  Up to about one hundred yards or so, my wife can manage to use her stick with me supporting her to walk to our destination (from the car), but, over that distance we have to use the wheelchair.  Fortunately, our wheelchair is of the lightweight and small-wheeled variety which means that it is very nimble to manoeuvre in tight spaces – but is not comfortable on steep hills or bumpy pavements!

The range of issues that Mrs A suffers from is quite wide, as you can see.  Collectively, these hit her hard and this, coupled with the painkillers used much of the time, frequently make her very sleepy.  The mere act of going out to see a film or the theatre or anything can often be difficult.  On many occasions we have had to cancel an appointment or a trip out, but always very reluctantly and after serious consideration.  And, even so, the waiting times for clinic consultations nowadays can be very long which adds to the level of discomfort.

I am using my wife’s condition to try to get her to enjoy drinking tea (like me).  But she still insists on coffee some of the time.  She frequently describes herself as a bad-tempered old so-and-so and, as far as the odd cup of tea is concerned, she may be!

Go to our web-site and ...

First published on Linked In on the 28th September 2018.

I do not know about you, but I find people giving me instructions to “Go to our website and follow the Lynx…” a bit confusing.  Here is a Lynx, where is it going next?  Into the forest I expect to hunt for his or her lunch.

 

(Image from The Telegraph, thank you.)