modern life

Tuesday Tale – Wood Smoke

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The scent of the wood smoke brought back a memory. We were having a wood burner installed, my mother’s latest idea, all the rage then. No chopping wood as we do now, neatly bound stacks of suitable timber, factory sawn into identical chunks. They were delivered straight into the new designer wood store which provided enough cover to keep it dry, but still visible to impress the neighbours. It was my twelfth birthday and I took for granted our nice house, loving parents, good school and a host of activities. I was not spoilt, just happy, with everything to look forward to. Life was led at a frantic pace, but my friends’ families were just as frenetic. Our parents took turns ferrying us around to ballet classes, riding lessons, sleepovers. Several of us had auditioned for Britain’s Got Talent and were busy rehearsing, making our parents’ lives even busier. I felt a mixture of excitement and frustration that rehearsals were impinging on my precious riding lessons and the chance to go to the jumping competition. All that was missing was a pony of my own. Would I get one for my birthday?

Was I to blame for not caring about the rest of the world? My parents did not either. Later on, my mother would claim they were too busy working and looking after us. Chloe my sixteen year old sister did enough worrying for all of us, Eco Warrior Dad called her. She would inspect the Waitrose delivery to check if the food was healthy and correctly sourced. That week she was insisting she no longer flew and would not be coming on the plane with us for our Easter holiday. Dad retorted that the plane was going anyway so what difference would her absence make to the environment.

The camp fire crackled and I looked at my twelve year old granddaughter in the firelight. A love of horses was all we had in common, but she jumped raging streams and thorny hedges, not painted poles in a show ring. When she was little she adored stories of my childhood, now my memories bored her. I suppose they were always just fairy tales to her.

I didn’t get a pony for my birthday, unless they were keeping it as a surprise, but I did get lots of gifts, gaudy colourful teen stuff that I can’t recall now. Chloe had donated her pocket money to the children of Gaza instead. I knew about Gaza, but I did not see how her money would get there or help them. For my eleventh birthday she had given on my behalf to the children of Ukraine and that hadn’t stopped the war.

Those places were far away and my Piza party was what my friends were thinking about. Wood fired pizza, another smoky irony; tonight my seventieth birthday treat was on a spit, the young deer my grandson had shot.

I felt laughter suddenly well up. Chloe had not remained a vegetarian for long after it all happened. She was gone now of course. I was the only one left to remember those times. Dad had come home early; the only thing that was useful about his job in the media was that he was aware sooner than most of what was about to happen.

‘We’re leaving in half an hour, up to Cheshire, meet up with Uncle Alex, he’s found a salt mine.’

‘What the hell are you talking about’ said my mother.

‘What about Britain’s Got Talent’ I said.

Dad’s brother Alex was a scientist, Chloe’s favourite relative. Dad gabbled a few curt explanations in between his exhortations to get ready.

‘Shelter, safety, get out while we can.’

Chloe cheered and hugged Dad.  ‘At last, one of my parents is going to break out of this smug middle class life and break into reality.’

 She had her rucksack ready, packed a year ago to prepare for any and every emergency, war, pandemic, wild fires, floods…

Reality was far worse than Chloe could ever have bargained for, but she toughed it out and survived. My riding skills turned out to be invaluable. I got my pony, but not in the way I had dreamed of.

All I have are memories now. It has been a harsh life, but not all bad and I have been very lucky to survive till the agreed limit. Lucky to survive at all, there weren’t many of us. The human race always finds a way, but individuals have not been important for most of our history. Tomorrow they will break camp again, but this time I will not be going with them.

Monday Moments

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How long is a moment? Perhaps as long as the BBC time pips which are celebrating their centenary this very day.

 ‘The pips have been broadcast daily since 5 February 1924 and were the idea of the Astronomer Royal and the head of the BBC.

Originally they would have helped people set their watches and clocks to the exact time, now our phones, radios and many of our clocks are connected by magic to the beating heart of the universe. Though some say the National Physical Laboratory is responsible.

The pips for national radio stations are timed from an atomic clock  in the basement of BBC Broadcasting House synchronised with the National Physical Laboratory.

 There are six pips which occur on each of the 5 seconds leading up to the hour and on the hour itself. The first five last a tenth of a second each, while the final pip lasts half a second. The actual moment when the hour changes is at the very beginning of the last pip. I checked the clock on my radio and sure enough the clock changed to the hour exactly on the last pip. Looking up more facts surrounding our precious pips and how the whole world keeps time can lead you down a rabbit hole, perhaps you will even meet Alice in Wonderland’s White Rabbit with his pocket watch. But do we still need the pips?  Yes, they are a precious few moments when broadcasters actually stop talking, a moment of peace before we are weighed down by the latest round of news.

https://www.bbc.com/historyofthebbc/anniversaries/february/the-pips

What time is it where you are? What do you rely on to check the time?

Thursday Thoughts A-Z

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One often learns something new from Facebook. APRICITY is the comforting warmth of the winter sun. Sunlight comes about 93 million miles and then gets blocked out by one little cloud or a building. If you find a sunny spot it is bliss.

Most of our local buses have a running commentary to tell you which stop is coming up next, very handy if it’s dark, torrential rain or torrential rain on a dark night. Especially useful if you are blind. I wonder who the anonymous voice is, perhaps an out of work actor. On an unfamiliar route recently a very jolly voice announced a stop then added ‘Alight here for the crematorium.’ Two stops further on he cheerfully announced ‘The next stop is Cemetery Junction, Cemetery Junction.’ Even dead passengers are assisted.

Fact is stranger than fiction. Since I wrote Tuesday’s tiny tale ‘Whatever the Weather’ we have had Storm Ingunn, named by the Norwegians. Apparently the Faroe Islands may have been hit by winds up to 155 miles an hour. I bet Gail Macleod is there reporting.

If your closest contact with wildlife is watching Mr. Fox trotting down the road in broad daylight or Roland Rat scurrying across the back lawn you will enjoy blogs from the African continent.

Robbie Cheadle shares some beautiful photos and we learn a lot.

https://writingtoberead.com/2024/01/24/in-touch-with-nature-giraffes-chew-bones-and-lions-eat-grass-animalkingdom-natureconser

 Scuba Hank NYC is usually underwater, but has been on safari lately and his latest clip of a lovely Zebra set me thinking. Other members of the horse family were domesticated millennia ago. As far as we know Zebras never have been. It’s like the elephant conundrum. Asian elephants have been dragging logs and dressing up in beautiful garments to carry royalty for a very long time and more recently entertaining in circuses, while African elephants seem to have remained independent, or have they? Hannibal took 37 North African elephants over the Alps to give The Romans a fright. They had never seen elephants before so no doubt they did get a surprise. His plan worked, but sadly most of the elephants died of the cold that winter.  African elephants no doubt decided to avoid ever getting involved with humans again.

Up Close with a Stunning Zebra – South Africa

If you have seen a zebra steeplechase or watched zebra dressage, let us know.

Tuesday Tiny Tale 369 -Whatever The Weather

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And in tonight’s news Storm Zelda has arrived. Red warnings remain in place for the whole of the British Isles. Experts say it is unprecedented to have had twenty six named storms in the first month of the year. Travel plans have already been thrown into chaos. All flights are being diverted to Reykjavik and many train journeys have been cancelled after landslides on several mainlines. The M1, M3, M6 and other motorways have experienced flooding and the RAC is advising drivers not to travel, even if it is absolutely necessary.

The RNLI is warning people to stay away from coastal areas. Mandy Mariner is speaking to us from Cornwall.

‘We are a volunteer organisation and no crew will be volunteering to go out tonight in this weather. People don’t realise that you can be sucked out to sea in seconds by wind and waves, so please do not go sightseeing, Instagram and Facebook are not worth risking your life for.’

His Majesty’s Coastguard has reinforced this warning, especially as all their helicopters are now grounded. In an emergency call 999 Coastguard, better still, avoid emergencies.

And in a dramatic move Deliveroo have suspended all deliveries.

For more details on tonight’s weather we go over to Gail Macleod who is on the end of the pier at Easton-super-Mare.

‘Wind speeds of up to 150 miles an hour have been recorded here this a…ft..er…noon an~~ emr~~~gen~~ ser~~~ ha~~ wa~~~

We seem to have lost Gail for a moment and we apologise for the sound quality of that report. So let’s go back to Sonny Dai in the studio and take a closer look at the weather map.

Welcome to Point of View and we start with your views on coverage of Storm Zelda. Delia Baxter sent us this email

‘How reckless of the BBC to send reporters out in Storm Zelda. Gail Macleod was out in the elements and not even wearing a hat, what sort of example is that?’

We managed to contact Gail, at present sheltering on an oil rig in the North Sea. She sent us this message.

‘I was wearing a nice warm hat, but unfortunately it blew away, along with my umbrella.’

Tuesday Tiny Tale – Discovery

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‘What do you mean, dead in the bed?’

‘I tried to wake him but there was no response.’

‘But what was he doing in the bed, who was he?’

‘A customer I presume, we find them sometimes in the morning, can’t find their way out and settle in for the night.’

‘But surely security do the rounds at closing time?’

‘Well it’s a very big store and five floors… ‘

The new young manager of LIKE stared at the customer care assistant, he was beginning to get an inkling why his predecessor may have resigned.

‘And when you find live customers in bed what do you do?’

‘Wake them up and give them a voucher for breakfast in the restaurant.’

‘That sounds fair enough.’

Live customers were so much easier to deal with. The manager wondered what the protocol for dead customers was, probably too late to try out the new defibrillator. He looked at the time, the store had been open for five minutes already. Sweet Dreams was on the top floor, but unfortunately so was the customer entrance from the car park.

 ‘Does anyone else know about this?’

‘No, only Val the cleaner, she skedaddled up to the staff canteen to have a cup of tea and get over the shock.’

‘Er, um ‘ Dean isn’t it,’ he tried to surreptitiously read the chap’s badge ‘get yourself right back there and head off any customers while I call security… Oh what did the bo…the customer look like?’

‘Very peaceful, with the LIKE swan down king sized duvet tucked up round his chin, could even have been part of the display.’

‘Security? Benson here… Jeremy Benson, no I’m your new manager, who’s in charge today? Suspended, so who is in temporary charge?… Brian? Jeremy Benson here, get up to Sweet Dreams immediately, we have a problem, I’ll meet you there. How many bedroom displays? Twenty seven, well look for the one with an occupied bed.’

It was Saturday morning and the store was buzzing already, just how he had imagined his dream job, but now a busy store was a nightmare. If news got out of this in the town or to their competitors it didn’t bear thinking of.

Two security women confronted him, he flashed his ID card and they looked vaguely embarrassed and very amused.

‘Is Brian here? Good, show me where the incident took place.’

Benson vowed to get to grips with the store layout as one of the women led him through a maze of three walled bedrooms and voluptuous bedding.

‘Good morning Brian, thanks for being so prompt.’

‘I presume you have called the police?’

‘NO! … I mean let’s assess the situation first.’

He stared at the luxury faux bedroom, which was much nicer than his own humble abode; who wouldn’t want to stay the night. He had never actually seen a dead body, perhaps this was a joke, a dummy from the Love Living show rooms.

‘Are we sure he is actually dead Brian?

‘Of course he’s bloody dead, I was with the ambulance service for twenty years, I thought this job would be nice and peaceful.’

‘So what is your normal security procedure?’

‘Usually the customers are not actually dead; they drop with exhaustion or have a panic attack when they can’t find the way out. Though we did have a heart attack victim the other week, first aid officer attended, paramedics came promptly and worked on him, that was when it was decided to get defibrillators.’

 ‘And did the customer survive?’

‘No, but luckily LIKE were cleared of any blame, natural causes.’

Benson looked around for inspiration as to what should be done. He spotted an assistant pushing a large trolley full of duvets and pillows.

‘Well Brian I think our first priority is removal. We don’t want to spoil our customer’s day by suggesting anything is amiss.’

Silly Saturday – Glass and Frosted Grass

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When your neighbour’s greenhouse is bigger than yours.

When Dracula’s roof needs repairing.

A seat in the sun.

Or perhaps you would prefer to linger with a beach view.

But don’t linger too long.

Or you could sit in the warm in an American diner…

…and still be by the English seaside.

When you order a game on Amazon and get the German version. At least it comes mit 2 mini-erweiterungen. If you haven’t played Qwirkle it’s good fun and you can probably guess it can be played in any language! The rules come in several languages, none of them English; well we shouldn’t smugly assume there is always an English translation. The omission of English is probably due to Brexit, another annoyance for we Remainers! Luckily I found a good YouTube video ( American ) on how to play when friends came over to be introduced to the game.

How was your Saturday?

Tuesday Tale – Mistake

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The day got off to a bad start when I put the remote control in my bag instead of my phone.

As John was away on his business trip to Taiwan I was taking the car to work. Oliver rushed out the door saying ‘Bye Mum, don’t forget we’re all going round Roache’s tonight and I’m staying over ready for the match tomorrow.’

I had forgotten and had no idea who Roach was or where he lived. Since we moved to the new house Oliver spent even less time at home and frequently reminded us he had not wanted to move. But as John said, Oliver would be off to uni. next year and we couldn’t miss the opportunity to move to a place that was perfect for us, with room for John to work from home. The new estate was a good few stations further out from our old house and the town, but Oliver could get to school and me to work on the train.

I looked forward to a peaceful Friday evening. I could get a big shop on the way home as I had the car, a bottle of wine perhaps and Piza delivered.

I didn’t notice my mistake till I was in the office and went to check if John had left a message. The others thought it hilarious when I brandished the remote control.

‘Well it’s either the menopause or the stress of moving that’s done my brain in.’ I joined in their laughter.

I was always complaining Oliver never put his phone down for five minutes, so I was sure I could cope without my phone for one day.

At lunchtime I started to realise the implications of my mistake. How would I pay for lunch in the canteen? In my phone case was my bank card, but half the time I didn’t use that, I paid for things with my phone. ‘No one carries a purse around these days Mother’ Oliver had said frequently. Annie offered to pay. If I had known what lay ahead I would have had a good hot meal instead of a sandwich. Shopping was off my agenda, but I didn’t need anything urgently and why waste my precious evening going round the busy supermarket.

I drove home in a good mood, no waiting on a chilly platform for a train that might not come because of strikes or yet another landslide with all this rain we had been having. The sat nav came in handy because now it was dark I was not so sure I knew the way to our new house. Finally I was on the dark road by the common, home was not far and I would be glad to spot the street lights of the estate. But what I spotted were blue flashing lights, red flashing lights, yellow lights… what was going on? A yellow jacket flagged me down and I noticed barriers across the road.  I was not sure who or what the yellow jacket was. A woman’s voice spoke.

‘Good evening Madam, police, I’m afraid we have set road blocks up, there has been an incident, or rather there is an ongoing incident, or I should say we are preparing for a major incident.’

‘What do you mean, it’s so quiet here. Which way shall I go, I have to get home.’

‘I’m afraid several roads are in lockdown, are you a local?’

‘Oakdene Avenue.’

‘I am sorry, but Oakdene Avenue is at the centre of the incident.’

‘What sort of incident?’

‘I’m afraid I can’t disclose that.’

‘But what am I supposed to do, my husband’s in Taiwan.’

‘The other residents popped to friends’ or to the Harvester I think. Are you in the Oakdene Neighbourhood Whatsap group?’

‘No, we just moved in, I don’t know anybody.’

‘Give me your phone number and I will add your name, then you will get update messages and we can let you know if we have to arrange overnight accommodation for residents.’

‘I left my phone at home…’

Before I could say any more another car pulled up behind me and she left to give them the bad news.

On the pavement I saw a poor old lady standing alone. More to comfort myself than her I got out and went over.

‘I just got off the bus, oh dear, do you know what’s going on?’

‘No idea, we just moved into Oakdene Avenue and my husband’s in Taiwan and my son’s gone round to Roache’s house and I left my phone at home…’

‘Never mind, you can borrow my phone and call your son, or a friend.’

That’s when I realised I knew no one’s numbers, family or friends. Numbers stored in my phone, just tap the name you wanted to call…

‘I suppose you don’t remember the numbers, modern technology’ she chuckled ‘never mind dear, why don’t I call our local taxi company for you, they are very good.’

Where would I go, even if I had any means to pay the driver I had no idea where Roach lived. I heard a car draw up.

‘Oh here’s my lift, lucky I had my phone, I called my brother. My sister-in-law will have a good hot dinner waiting.’

And there she was gone. More emergency vehicles kept arriving, but I couldn’t see my police officer. I got back in the car to warm up and scrabbled around in the glove box for the car park purse. There should be enough change to buy a cup of coffee, perhaps even some chips in the café at that Tesco superstore a few miles back up the road. I could sit in the warm, restore my equilibrium then drive back to see if it was all clear. There should be plenty of change, we always paid for car parks with our phone these days…  I couldn’t find the purse. I recalled John tidying up the car ‘Don’t know why we still keep this old purse in here.’

Plan, plan, think of a plan. The logical thing would be to drive back to where we used to live, though it was a good distance and not an easy drive in the dark. Who would I call on? Cassandra and Dan were in Australia. Other friends, a bit embarrassing as I had failed to send any Christmas cards in the madness of moving and hadn’t even sent any text messages. Nobody wants to be disturbed on a dark winter’s night when they are all cosy at home. What on earth would I say, the whole situation sounded ridiculous. On this dark cold lonely night I wondered how many real friends I had back in the old neighbourhood. Probably only Cassandra. There was only one way to find out who was in and who might offer a welcome.

I started the engine and various warning lights started flashing. I recalled John’s parting words ‘I’ll miss you Darling, oh by the way, the tank’s nearly on empty so make sure you fill her up when you leave in the morning.’

Tuesday Tiny Tale 420 – 2124

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I can’t believe it’s my great grandson’s 100th birthday, seems like only yesterday I was saying ‘I can’t believe I’m a great grandmother.’

I was on the way out by then, several of those conditions eliminated or curable these days. Hanging around was not what I wanted and I set about applying on line to go to Switzerland. I’m still not sure what went wrong, but instead of signing up for Dignitas I had volunteered for Digitass; basically I was downloaded onto a home computer, stuck in my son’s living room forever. Though he’s long gone and I have been moved around a lot since then by various descendants.

Like Concorde and the space shuttle, oh you wouldn’t remember them, anyway Digitass didn’t last long before it was uninvented on moral grounds. I’m one of the lucky ones, not homeless. Those without family or descendants, or family that got fed up with them, were put in storage, staring at blank walls or switched off. That’s been hushed up for decades.

In answer to your question, nobody else in my family was downloaded before it was halted, they had a fair idea what it would be like. I have seen so many of my family die and it never gets any easier. It’s still rare for someone like my great grandson to reach a century, especially now it’s so easy to opt out.

I don’t really get bored; the ‘great-great-greats’ bring their friends like you to talk to me, ask me questions for homework, or just dead curious, ha ha, Dead curious, I can still make jokes.  On the rare occasions the family are not too busy, they take me out for ‘a bit of fresh air.’ The irony lost on them that I can’t smell the fresh air. I am glad to see the outside world though, strangely the first quarter of the 22nd century looks very much like the world we were promised in the early years of the 21st century.

Do you know what I miss most, apart from independence? Food. When I see them sitting round stuffing their faces I can almost recall what taste was like. The days are so long without meal breaks and the conviviality of the family dinner table. And what wouldn’t I give for a cup of tea.

The nights are even longer of course as I need no sleep. I have considered applying to be switched off, but that is still against the law and my family don’t approve.