Oct 18 - Looking back on the summer

When you get to the end of this letter, you will probably think, well, that was a lot of nothing in particular - and you’d be right. My life is full of ‘nothing in particular’, brimming with it. Days pass, weeks, months, the summer - trivial things come and go, bringing warmth and peace of mind in their uncomplicated nature.

F’rinstance, I mention often, the clearing of this study. I mention it because it is always happening - yet it remains a ‘job that needs to be done’. Recent weeks have seen the shredding of several recycling sacks of paper and the clearing of the last cardboard box - leaving the room a little lighter, a little  brighter and a good deal neater. It seems appropriate, at this point, to mention that I was an accountant when I was working. By ‘accountant’ I mean this as a generic term referring to one’s natural inclinations. I LOVE hanging onto paper - just in case it is needed one day to solve some point of home administration - or to satisfy government bureaucracy.

Yesterday, I shredded bank statements from 1997, phone bills from 1990 and some papers of Mum’s going back to the 80s. On top of that, I discovered papers from Quiz Nights that I had organised for the Lisbon Casuals in the mid-90s, memorabilia from the New York marathon and I reread love letters from girlfriends in the 80s. Hope I don’t need those bank statements. That’ll keep me awake till the anxiety passes.

All of this has allowed me to reach the book shelves again and rearrangement is under way. English Language, photography, computer books, cookery, gardening and of course, fiction - all are starting to find their peers again. These are books that used to share shelf space in Keysland, but became separated when they were unpacked here 15 months ago. The rebuilding of the study  has shown me books that I’ve bought but never read or, just as likely, have forgotten I have read - so still hold appeal.

For the ones I know I have read, there is a small bookshop in town that I favour. It’s not a charity shop but has to compete with charity shops of which we have an abundance, so I give them my old hardbacks. They in turn, do me a favour by displaying posters for the Chain Bridge Forge. I seem I have jumped ahead so perhaps a little rewind might clarify.

I have started volunteer work here in the Spalding area. It works like this. You go to the council. They note what you’re good at, then match you (via a computer system), with vacancies at various charitable organisations. The forge is one of these. It is a ‘living museum’ where you can watch blacksmithing and try it out yourself if you are so minded. Remember that poem from school? “Under a spreading chestnut tree, the village smithy stands, a mighty man is he”. The forge aspires to promote blacksmithing, perhaps even revive it. Certainly to slow, perhaps even reverse its demise. I design and then circulate advertising posters for them.

As well as the forge, I have started teaching people at Spalding Library how to use computers. The plan is that I get them started on Excel, Word, PowerPoint, the Internet etc. Just ‘get them started’ you understand. Should they want anything beyond the basics, a formal course at a college will be necessary. My own sessions run for about 6 weeks. I started on Oct 4^th with one lady who wants to know how to do things in Windows 8 and her partner, who wants to know how to get into the Internet. They both seem pleased with their progress thus far.

Two weeks ago, I discovered Spalding Photographic Society. It is a friendly club where you can talk photography with like-minded people. The capacity to learn is boundless. There is a lot to be gleaned from people who share your interest. This week I did some Light Painting. You will note, this is capitalised as it is a specific aspect of photography as opposed to light painting - which suggests a bit of casual, reflective daubing with brushes and watercolours.

Light Painting - is sitting in a room with the lights out, the camera on a tripod and the shutter open (this is the BULB setting for those of you who have slightly more options in shutter speeds than that afforded by compact cameras or smartphones). As you sit there, a mate spins a wheel with fairy lights on it and waves light sabres in the manner of Luke Skywalker challenging his dad. Above are a couple of outcomes. Yes, these are photographs. If you remember ‘straight line envelopes’ from maths at school, the principle is similar.

Recently, I started a winter project, which is to gather photos in Photo Books. I have had poor service from a couple of the photo book suppliers so continue my search for a reliable supplier. New software has to be learnt each time as their products differ as do formats, layouts, paper quality and price, the consequence being that different processes are needed to compile the collection that you want to put together. But, what else have I got to do?

One day, I will have a number of coffee table books of my holidays around the world, my time in Portugal especially the trip to the unspoiled North which beguiled with huge, lush valleys, towns and villages unaffected by time, road markings or metal traffic signs. Separately, there were castles, monasteries and hunting lodges re-born as Pousadas (luxury hotels),plus photos from a town where they ran with the bulls and the border towns and cities in the East that rarely get visited by tourists.

 

Photos have also accumulated from trips to Chelsea Flower Shows and RHS gardens, visits to York, Barnstaple, the Lake District and various National Trust stately homes and immaculately-manicured gardens. Add to that, pictures of the boys when they were children and Basildon in B&W in the 60s. As with most people, my life is captured in photos. Of course, I could have all of these in albums but who has photo albums nowadays?

Talking of Portugal, this reminds me of a silly story. I was in the North, which as I mentioned, in its rural areas, is untouched. It was the end of June 1996. The day was stiflingly hot as I tootled along a  country lane aimlessly, not a care in the world. Imagine my surprise as I rounded a bend to find a herd of cows filling the road. There was no cowherd with them and no way past. Momentarily, I was nonplussed, stymied, bemused. Filling the road, they were clearly in no rush to be anywhere. The last cow turned slowly to look at me and its expression made it clear that it was not about to break into a stroll. It was at peace with the world.

A collie emerged from the front of the herd. He must have said “Look ladies, we’re in the way.” because, as if by magic, they started to drift to one side - more or less in single file, to let me past. In their own time, you understand but undoubtedly organised by the collie. With no sign of any human cowherd, I was able to pass and wound down my window to give the collie a wave of thanks. I know this sounds daft but he’d (she’d?) clearly moved the herd over on seeing me so it would have been rude to pass without some expression of gratitude. I could have sworn a head was nodded in acknowledgement.

The summer here has been kind. With sunshine almost every day, it has been spent mainly on the golf course. I became blacker than Darth Vader’s heart. Well, arms, legs and the face. The rest of me stayed pretty well untouched so I was two-tone for a while, a sort of Mary Quant creation.

The golf got better in that lessons, practice and playing three or four times a week saw a couple of successes that got my handicap cut. My walking improved briefly but seems to be falling back now so I continue to stumble around the course. Diabetes took a turn for the worse as I became cavalier with sweet things and self-discipline (as usual), played little or no part in my life, but a ticking off from the Diabetes Nurse put me back on track. D. Nurse will see me again in Dec to see if I have made any progress.

The annual golf tour in Sept reached its 38^th year this year and we spent it in Bristol. The courses were beautiful, well-manicured, and a lot of fun was had by all - as evidenced by the photos once I get them to the web site. Here are a couple of landscapes for now. I have known these guys for almost 40 years - some for slightly longer as I knew them before the tour started. We bicker and fight like brothers. I cannot imagine life without them.

 

 

 

The garden has taken a bit of a bashing, a pruning frenzy occurred a few weeks back. The rain of 2012 brought growth that was dealt with by the landscapers earlier this year. Since then I made free with the secateurs - not dissimilar to Edward Scissorhands conducting the Last Night of the Proms.

Bags of green waste sprung up everywhere and the garden now looks as well-scrubbed as a choirboy’s face. Undoubtedly next Spring will bring a new growth spurt and I will be up a ladder waving the hedge trimmer - but let’s worry about that when it happens. If I sell Keysland before then, I am likely to buy a flat in Spalding and then gardening will become a thing of the past. But first, this depends on the housing market in the South East. Should I sell the Keysland house, my plan is to stay in this area.

I have grown accustomed to the (snail’s) pace of life here. The golf club is friendly. I have a dentist and a doctor. Three Post Offices, several pubs, shops, supermarkets and petrol stations are to hand - unlike some of the Yorkshire villages that I saw on today’s news where it’s a 40 mile drive to fill up your tank. How remote is that? I am only two hours away from Essex so can get back to see various groups of friends easily as I will at the start of Dec. when I’ll see about 20 of you at different lunches and dinners.

With winter approaching, I am preparing for hibernation. The Radio Times gets perused in some detail each week, attractive programmes are ringed and snacks feature more heavily on the shopping list. There have been a number of good series lately: By Any Means, Peaky Blinders, Scandal, Downton. We are spoiled for choice, with the winter schedules offering even more variety. Occasionally, I watch Horizon when I want to learn something about science but generally a series where someone gets killed is favoured.

Comedy also features strongly, with 8 Out Of Ten Cats, Mock The week, Have I Got News For You and QI as regulars. Have you seen London Irish? Appalling language - but used in context and not unnecessarily just for a cheap laugh - with outrageous plotlines. Hugely funny. True Irish thinking. Beyond that, the channels bristle with films. I try and watch two or three films a week. The Freesat and Freeview Hard Disk boxes collect recordings faster than I can clear them.

So there  you have it, Lots to watch, read and do. Life is full and, dare I say, fun. Occasionally, I get worked up about some aspect of the news that is badly-reported and write a mad mail to the largely useless BBC whose journalists appear to be more interested in not giving offence rather than asking incisive, awkward, (im)pertinent questions.

Most of the time, I sit here in my cave, minding my own business, watching the world go by. While maybe leaning towards reclusive, I believe this life suits me. When I was younger and full of fire, I hadn’t realised how easy it was to live life. I let myself be led by the nose. Standards were set by popular expectation and the herd’s behaviour, and were rarely questioned. I tried too hard. Now, the world glides by like a leaf on a soft-flowing river, with me sitting on a lily pad watching from the side-lines. Little matters. I have problems of course, but when I cannot change them, I do not rail in anger and frustration. I shrug my shoulders and move on, spilt milk.

“The moving finger having writ, moves on. Not all thy piety nor wit can lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all thy tears wash out a single word of it.” As you see, the Philosophy books have taken a bit of a bashing.

This is my life today. I miss you all and the part you used to play in it but, life goes on with its changes, twists and turns. I expect to see you less but hopefully, will still see you. Thank you for what you have contributed in the past. They are my memories - which I treasure beyond any material possession.