Sanders Blog

Sunday, 4th April, 2021

There’s a hole in the world this morning. What are we going to do? Outside it is sunny but cool. Blue sky and sunshine does help but doesn’t make up for the absence of life. Certainly, money can’t plug it. Travel to France? Not sounding good at the moment. My cousin in Salles-Lavalette, SW France, is clearly in despair about her holiday lets. Even schools are closed again. We were there a couple of years ago and it is delightful.

I’ve requested details on some properties in the Murcian sea port area of Aguilas. Even if they come back favourably, we obviously wouldn’t buy unseen. We certainly won’t travel until a couple of weeks after our second vaccination which will take us close to the end of May. The hole deepens!

It’s amazing how time flies past but, in recollection, events feel so close. Ten years ago today, the removal van arrived to take all our possessions from West Yorkshire to Surrey. Although I remember it clearly, in retrospect so much has happened since then. We have sold and bought three properties since then, travelled thousands of miles in search of the sun, gone so far into retirement that it’s not so easy imagining going back into education now, had five new cars and at least five new diets. Throughout this time, I have carried with me some ambitions that I may never achieve but will continue until my last breath. I did say that I would never need to diet again by the time I was 70. I did say I would achieve fluent Greek. I Failed as I have with so much more. I keep trying.

I did Spanish at school 55 years ago. I can still do bits but it will now be an ambition to learn more. We have driven across many European countries but not Spain. This will be the ideal new, learning environment. Portsmouth is not far away from here. Return journey by Brittany ferries for Portsmouth – Santander or Bilbao with cabin is only around £1100.00/€1300.00 and the drive across Spain will be fun. I’ve always wanted to go to Zaragoza and then on to the coast at Tarragona and then drive down the coast through Valencia.

You see, hope can be found anywhere and challenges are everywhere. This is the future!

Monday, 5th April, 2021

Time and Life are strange aren’t they? The past rises out of the mists, tantalises and then sinks back into it. It can be cruel but that always comes as a shock to me. When you expose yourself as I do every day to public scrutiny, you should expect it.  I never learn.

Last week someone emerged from the mists in the most magical way. Our house is full of televisions – 7 in all. I think it is a reaction to being denied one in my childhood.  I had the television in the kitchen on in preparation for watching some recording and a programme that I never watch because it is about skilled arts & crafts was on in the background. I was reading not watching until I heard the name, Linda Konieczny announced. I looked up and said to my wife, I used to teach someone called Linda Konieczny in the early days in the 6^th Form.” It was only later that the mists really cleared.

A lad (now aged 72) from College contacted me and asked if I’d seen Linda on The Repair Shop that afternoon. Only then did I remember her. She was in the year after us but our paths had crossed a few times. I told him about my senior moment of memory. Next thing I know, I get a contact from Linda thanking me for the flattery of thinking she had been my student. She had remembered me quite acutely at college and certainly better than I remembered her. She sent me a photo to help.

It was quite an interesting episode she appeared in when she brought a large, toy racing car in for repair. Her recently deceased father had made it for her. As her name suggests, she is of Polish origin and her father had escaped Nazi internment camp and walked across Europe, finally getting to UK. He was a skilled metal worker and had constructed this mechanical toy at the end of the war but it no longer worked. Seeing it brought back to life was quite magical. Good things do come in small packages if you let them.

My sister Jane who lives on the Pennines when she’s not in her London home, posted a scene from her house on Twitter this morning. A smattering of snow arrived over night.

Yesterday, we spent a few hours sunbathing in the garden and it was so strong Pauline actually burned her neck through her blouse. It is beautiful here again today. At least we don’t expect snow this far south. Dispelling the mists of time, we are going out for a walk while the sun lasts although it is a little cooler this afternoon.

Tuesday, 6th April, 2021

I have been dreading this. I really can’t believe I’m 70 years old but, suddenly, it doesn’t matter at all. I have the loveliest people in my life and nothing else matters at all. Not sure why it’s taken me so long to realise. Perhaps I’m a slow learner and, maybe, some of them are as well. It doesn’t matter, I will go forward in the knowledge that I have them.

The morning has been really delightful with birthday wishes from all around the country and from Europe. As someone once sang, Love is all you need. It is certainly good enough for me. I have all the material things any man could want. How fortunate is that? If I haven’t done so personally, thank you to every one who has wished me well.

It is the most lovely day of warm sunshine. I’ve still done my exercise routine because I’ve just beaten my record of achieving it every day for 54 consecutive days. I’m very target driven. People who set me targets regret it because I never give up until I achieve them. Tomorrow, I will try even harder. My birthday meal will be monkfish and king prawns in tempura batter with green salad and garlic dip. Looking forward to that.

Tonight I’m going to be indulged as I watch Real Madrid v Liverpool followed by another episode or two of Keeping Faith. I have really enjoyed this although I didn’t expect to. It is originally made by Welsh TV but I’ve completely fallen in love with this feisty woman. It is 3 series of 20 episodes all together and you have to watch the first series to really understand the rest. She ‘loses’ her husband and the search is gripping. Anyone who has that much intelligence, fight and determination is really attractive. For me, it is far more compelling than physical beauty.

Wednesday, 7th April, 2021

What a beautiful morning of strong, warm sun from a lovely sky. Sussex is a lovely place to be on these days. Yesterday, an old friend from Manchester saw my photograph of Lunch in the garden and said it’s snowing here. If I never see snow again it will be too soon. You really should be here! We spend a lot of time out of the house because of the weather.

I know everywhere can be lovely and there is pleasure to be taken in all circumstances but the opportunities seem increased in our area. Mind you, I would rather be in the Mediterranean walking on a scorching hot beach.

I calculated that we have spent more than 5 complete years living in Greece over our travelling lives mostly in 6 month spells but also 2 months spells pre-retirement. Our Local Authority clung to the 19th Century Mill holiday pattern of Wakes Holidays which, ironically, was Wimbledon fortnight. I must admit I didn’t bother to investigate its origin more than that at the time. It originated from pre-industrial revolution tradition with a night of prayer which was called a vigil, eve or, due to the late hour “wake”, from the  Old English Waecan.

There is jovial, joyous hour,
Of mirth and jollity in store:
The Wakes! The Wakes!

The Village Festival – Droylsden poet, Elijah Ridings 1802-1872

For years before Retirement, we would fly to Greece for Wakes Holidays fortnight and then drive to Greece for 6 week Summer Holiday. Looking back, I can hardly believe it now. I know we were so much younger but the effort we were prepared to go through for this I wouldn’t even consider now.

We would fly through the night, arrive at Piraeus Harbour for about 4.00 am on Saturday morning and wait for the ferry to board at 8.00 am. I woke up once on a dockside bench being licked by a stray dog and having been bitten badly by mosquitoes. I rather snobbily chose Greece as a more bohemian, intellectual alternative to Spain where so many of our pupils’ families were going. I don’t regret it but we can both afford and crave so much more comfort nowadays. If it hasn’t got a 5* Hotel or villa, what’s the point? We might as well be at home.

Everyone everyone can you hear the soldiers coming
Everyone everyone every man and every woman
We all fall in the end we’re just miracles of matter ….

The one thing that yesterday has taught me is that we are running out of time and must seize the day!

Today we have seized some lovely, fresh fish. The quality of this swordfish and salmon is hard to match. You should taste it.

Got a surprise in the post today. It was a card from a lovely girl who I taught 30 years ago. I don’t know where she got my address from. Must have been playing my game and researching Census returns. As she left, she had been going through a difficult time and I suppose I helped her more than most other pupils I dealt with. I even did a bit of match making for her when she was leaving school. I felt a bit like a Dad for a while. She has been happily married to an ex-pupil for some years and has three, lovely and successful kids.

It just underlined what a sad, old man I am becoming because the card got to me immediately. I am shocked and embarrassed at my current responses. It is looking as if internal travel will be our first trip and Greater Manchester will be our first destination. I will have to go and see her.

Thursday, 8th April, 2021

Lovely morning with lots of sun. Even the window cleaners have turned up so sunlight doesn’t make the windows look dirty. The day got better when I received a phone call from Spain. An Agente Inmobiliario in Aguilas was responding to my request for information on a new-build property.

I like people. I can’t help myself. I have to know the sort of person I am talking to on the phone. Before he could tell me anything about the property, I had got from him that his name was David. He was 32 with 2 kids and he was living in Aguilas but had a home in York. He was born in Ripon where his parents still live. I told him of the obvious coincidence and, by the time I had done, his sales patter was shattered and we got down to business.

We established that I only needed a one bedroom apartment but sea-facing. The floor plan fits exactly what we would need with a huge balcony/outdoor living area for Dining/Relaxing.

The Development still has quite a way to go before completion and we would be buying off-plan with payments in 3 stages before. The price on-line had been a come-on for the cheapest, least desirable but even the €145,000.00 is a steal for what is included. As well as the apartment, the Development has two pools, an out-door gym, restaurant and underground carpark. That is important because we would want to drive there and stay 3 months at a time.

How often do you buy something and, within days of the warranty running out, it breaks down. Well yesterday, I was on the treadmill when I heard a loud clicking. I thought there was a mechanical problem so I got off to look but the clicking carried on. It was my knee. It sounded like starting pistol. I know I was 70 on Tuesday but I didn’t know that marked the end of the warranty! I have completed an average of 6 ml/9.7 km jogging/walking/cycling every single day for the past 3 months which may account for it. Even so, I am loathe to miss a day and rest.

Friday, 9th April, 2021

Lovely, sunny morning but not warm. I’m having my haircut again. I don’t have to wait for Monday. I don’t like waiting for anything especially as time runs out. All things will come to pass. 

We’ve spent less than a week in Spain in our lives. Three years ago, we had the most delightful few days in Valencia. It won me over immediately. We stayed in the rather ornate but very comfortable Valencia Palace which was pleasant but the vibrancy of the city and the lovely people really made the visit. It was one of the few times in my life that I considered myself a ‘tourist’ as opposed to a ‘traveller’. It is bonkers, I know, but I can’t do a ‘standard’, 2 week holiday anywhere for just that reason. I have to go and ‘live’ somewhere for a while.

Our introduction to Spain was through the Canary Islands. We had been to Fuerteventura years ago – the 1980s I think but we found ourselves ‘homeless’ 6 years ago having sold our Surrey home before our Sussex house was completed so we spent 2 months in a hotel in southern Tenerife.

I did French and a bit of Spanish at school and I was quite surprised how quickly I could reacclimatise to Spanish while we were there. The ‘Romance’ languages are quite accessible. We were there for the month of November 2015 and January 2016 and we were basically just transferring our lives from UK to the sunshine. I wouldn’t go to the Canaries for the culture. We did a 3rd month over that year but went to the 5* Adrian Rocca Nivaria in the November 2016.

The problem with the comfortable hotels is the food. It just keeps coming. We had Half Board basis for the 3 months and I was eating Breakfast which I never normally do followed by a huge, buffet meal in the evening and I was piling on the weight even though we were working out in the hotel gym every day.

Saturday, 10th April, 2021

A cool, grey morning and wall to wall coverage of DofE death is just so over the top it’s depressing. Have to do a hard gym session today.

I love photography even if I’m not brilliant at it. I bought an SLR 40 years ago and a Digital SLR around 20 years ago. The equipment is a lot to lug around so I usually find my phone enough nowadays. I take dozens of pictures just to get one good one and, even then, I have to manipulate them on my computer. We have a huge box of pre-digital photos from across the past 40 years. Currently, I am digitizing them through my scanner and putting them up in the Cloud so they are available for my wife when I’m gone.

Yesterday, this little girl popped out of the box. It is a terrible, 1978 photo reminiscent of the time. I am her godfather in spite of being a life-long atheist. Now she has her own, lovely family and looks very happy.

It all feels a bewilderingly long way away. How fate deals with our lives! I like to control things and although time is the one thing we can’t control, we can choose how to use it.

Sunday, 28th March, 2021

Rather overcast this morning with a cool, off-shore breeze. We will go on an hour’s walk mid morning. I’ve been watching the political programmes until I began screaming and looking for another country to live in. Now I’m watching cricket from India and writing. Writing does help.

The next stage of the journey began. I preface this with the view that I don’t believe people really change across their lives. They may add things, develop things, emphasise things, try to hide things but, at core, remain the same.

I started teaching in Oldham in 1972. What more can you say about that? How did I get there? I suddenly felt a failure in every area of my life. I was living alone in a grotty room in a former brothel and working in a tough, mill town school. The only ray of light at all was that I found I was good at teaching. It came naturally to me. It was about the only thing that did. I was desperately isolated, lonely and depressed to think how far I had fallen below my own expectations. Suicide was not out of the question. Teaching was taking all my energies and I turned in upon myself. I looked to music for my solace. Just as The Moody Blues hit me 5 years before so a soul singer, of all people, came into my consciousness from where or why I have absolutely no idea. It was another of those seminal moments that have stayed with me over the years.

Like a primal scream, Lorraine Ellison’s Stay With Me stalked my brain in the dark hours. I knew I had to take control of my life. I was ashamed of the fact that I’d failed. I began a programme of self-improvement which had absolutely nothing to do with teaching and everything to do with learning. I went out and bought books on Art History, on Philosophy and on Politics & Economics. In my grubby, little garret I devoured them avidly. At the same time, I worked hard to get in shape physically. Every day in the early morning I went out running in the local area. If you’d been around at the time, I was the lunatic in a yellow striped, bright purple tracksuit charging down the local roads at 5.30 am. I was trying to expiate my failure.

I was genuinely helped by my friends from College, Kevin & Christine, without whom I’m not sure what I would have done. However, ultimately this can only be done alone. It comes from a sense of self. I realised that I had to rid my head of the primal scream and I thought I could replace it with classical music. Chopin’s Nocturnes started me on my way. It was the time of Ted Heath’s 3 Day Week and miners’ strike. The electricity was going off for hours at a time in the evenings. I had moved to a flat at the top of the brothel. I was really going up in the world although it was still only costing me £5.00/€5.85 per week. I can see myself now up in that garret, absolutely alone and in pitch blackness through the power cuts with Nocturne 20 playing on a battery-powered cassette player. I defy anyone to do that and not to be moved.

I knew I had to get a Degree and I have so much to thank Harold Wilson and Jenny Lee for that as I will explore tomorrow.

Monday, 29th March, 2021

Glorious start to the morning. I’ve even put the mower on to charge to start the season off later today. Pauline’s got more clothes to return this morning so our hour’s walk will be down to the Post Office in the village. So much gets rejected. I can’t remember the last time she kept anything. Still, think of all the money I’m saving! I joke about it but we are some of the lucky ones. Money is piling up with nowhere to spend it while down the road ordinary but genuinely needy people are queuing at Food Banks.

In 1974, I was in need of a lift. I was trying to drown out the primal scream with Chopin and then Rachmaninov which I played incessantly until I knew every note by heart. If you discount work, I largely shut myself off from the world. I found a new life in Art, Philosophy, Politics and History and Music but for my own self esteem I needed to formalise it. In 1969, under the inspiration of Harold Wilson, Jenny Lee set up The Open University. They did it just for me.

I was ashamed of the fact that I hadn’t got a degree and I decided to do something about it. I applied for an Arts course. I could have got funding from the Local Authority but, almost in a sense of self-flagellation, I punished myself by doing everything the hard way. The degree was done in spare time while teaching. The cost was borne totally by me. It was me saying, You deserve all this pain. It’s your fault. Now, get your head down and do it. I worked all day, came home and worked all night. Often, I survived on 2-3 hrs of sleep a night. You can do that when you’re young and desperate. I made no attempt to find companionship. I was too busy beating myself up.

Every Monday evening I travelled to Manchester Business School on Oxford Road for a tutorial between 7.00 – 10.00 pm and then home to write up my notes before catching a few hours sleep and then walking to school at 8.00 am. It was gruelling but essential. The only way was up.

I am strong, when I am on your shoulders
You raise me up to more than I can be.

Suddenly I was being thrown a lifeline and being forced to struggle for it. From Vasari’s Lives of the Artists to Cartesian Dualism, my mind was exploding. Every month new Units of Study were arriving by post and I was actually looking forward to them. I am good at researching and writing essays. What an admission. Why couldn’t I be good at the essential things in life?

Through the writings of Marx and Engels to Mendelssohn’s rediscovery of Brahms, I was growing in self confidence. I do realise how sad that sounds but we cling on to small victories and they were mine. For my 3rd year Honours course I took Twentieth Century Poetry and was lucky enough to have a very special tutor. By day, I was teaching the poetry of Philip Larkin to A Level in school and by night I was being tutored by Larkin’s publisher and Biographer, Harry Chambers. I was in my element. Who would have thought that, as my first Degree came to a close, I would be taken off the market again. I wasn’t even in the market! See tomorrow’s exciting developments …

Tuesday, 30th March, 2021

Up early for a Sainsbury’s delivery at 7,00 am and then a fresh fish delivery after breakfast. Wonderful, wonderful day. The back garden has reached 22C/70F which is slightly warmer than Mojacar Beach in Spain. We have done a really enjoyable walk for just over an hour and then spent lots of time resting with iced white wine and olives on the patio.

So little is happening and moving at the moment in our lives that I have been filling my Blog with retrospectives. It is always helpful to reconsider how we got here. Not living in the past but preparing for the future. At the moment, I am tying it loosely to Music over the years. Music has been so important to me over my life. Very early on, I realised the massive emotional effect it had on me. It seems to speak to a core of my inner life that thoughts and images cannot begin to reach. It may be the sentimentality of an old man but I’ve found this response has increased over time.

Harry Chambers had been Phillip Larkin’s confidant. You don’t get much more impressive than that. He wanted me to write for him but I was already moving on. I had corresponded with a professor at Huddersfield University about my developing political views. Professor Bill Stafford was incredibly encouraging and invited me for interview. He was putting on a research degree course for post-graduates. It was based on a Marxist analysis of the world and covered Socialism and the rise of the Labour Party. It was exactly what I needed. I finished my B.A. in 1979 and started my Masters in 1980.

However, I have omitted two, crucial events. This young lady took me out to Dinner at the end of May 1978. Life changed rapidly and fundamentally and, at the end of June, she arrived at the door of my flat and announced, You’re coming to live with me. I always do as I’m told. Every item of my possessions apart from the bookshelves were crammed into the back of an ancient, white Mini and I moved to Yorkshire. We began a longer journey together of hugely challenging events.

Pauline was a cordon bleu standard chef who trained in London and was teaching Home Economics in my school having previously also owned and run a fashion shop in Oldham Precinct. She was also a nationally accredited Rounders referee. Every day, we would drive across the Pennines to work and back again in the evening. The 15 miles over the bleak moors was so often the most relaxing thing to do. I loved to play at full volume Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony. Pauline was incredibly tolerant and indulgent of me. Beethoven was the last thing she wanted in that situation. She liked Elton John, Moody Blues and Fleetwood Mac.

She hardly got a look in. I know and I have learnt over the years that I am a dominant personality. I get my own way and people give in to me. I can control a room and a discussion easily. I have had to try very hard to moderate my opinions and give in against my instincts. I still have to try hard to accept that mine aren’t the only views.

I moved in at the end of June and five months later we were married. It was lovely sharing and exploring a new life. We didn’t have a honeymoon. We married on December 30^th in deep snow and were back at work a few days later. Our honeymoon period lasted almost exactly 18 months when, in June 1980, we were driving to work in our brand new, pageant-blue mini when some office worker in an old, Ford Cortina lost control on the bend as we entered Oldham crossed the road and drove straight through our car virtually cutting it in half. Pauline managed to get out with a gash to her head and damage to her leg. I was dead … or so Pauline and the ambulance men who arrived on the scene thought.

My leg was cut through to the bone but my head had been smashed against the side window causing brain bruising. The ambulance men initially pronounced me dead but had the foresight to put an oxygen mask on me. Apparently, in my unconscious state, I fought like mad against the mask. Two burly ambulance men sat on me to hold the mask on and sat on my leg cut through to the bone. I’m told I made one, last bid for freedom by biting forcefully on the man’s nipple nearly severing it. He left the ambulance screaming and clutching his chest. Although I was dressed in a suit, he asked my wife if I was a builder’s Navvy.

Live or die? All will be revealed tomorrow.

Wednesday, 31st March, 2021

Another lovely morning. Feeling happier than for a while. Must be the sunshine. Pauline has found me a new-build property in Spain for consideration at a fantastic price. Who knows? We’ve even considered buying two and letting one out. Investments here are making nothing so this would be an interesting alternative.

Going out for a walk in the sunshine. At 10.00 am, we are reading 17C/63F but we hope for better this afternoon.

Back to the story and the aftermath of the road accident in June 1980. I have virtually no memory of the next few months. I was unconscious in hospital for the next week and behaving very strangely. Apparently, I was prone to walking round totally naked, asking the nurses inappropriately intimate questions and I took over total control of the ward television. Just reverting to type I suppose. We went to stay with Pauline’s sister and Mum who looked after us in early recuperation but I was out of it for months. I fought hard to get back to work in September but was really struggling with memory loss, concentration and depression – all classic head injury results – and had to take more time off. We did finally achieve a reasonably sized compensation pay-out but nothing made up for that lost year.

One of the things I should have been compensated for was my addiction to Dallas. This rubbishy, American drama was dominating the airwaves as I drifted in and out of consciousness. Half the time, I didn’t know I was watching it as I sat on a sofa dribbling down my chin but, as recovery came, I found I couldn’t stop watching it – not that I felt comfortable admitting it at the time. After all, I was a respectable intellectual.

At this time, I was looking for promotion and preparing to start a Masters Degree and Pauline was doing her BA at the Open University. To make matters worse, just as we began to feel a little better and went back to our own home in Meltham, we were sitting in the Lounge feeling still quite shocked when an almighty bang announced a speeding vehicle had run out of control on the bend and crashed into the side of our house. The house was 120 years old with stone walls so thick a tank wouldn’t have made an impression and the car was the only thing damaged but it was a real shock.

Over the next couple of years, we got Pauline through her Social Sciences Degree and it was real testament to her determination because, for quite a while, I was a nightmare to deal with. What am I saying? I’m always a nightmare to deal with.

I had done 3 years of the most exciting, intellectual challenge of my life. I was Head of Lower Counthill which I found enjoyable and I was left with a 50, 000 word dissertation to write for my research degree to be awarded. I had chosen the works of R.H.Tawney, English economic historian, social critic, ethical socialist, to research. It was extremely demanding on time and money just as we had bought Slade House in Helme, a new car and booked lots of travel to Greece.

I was spending hours combing through the university ‘stacks’ of files in the library basement and lots of trips to the Rotunda Library – Manchester Central in St Peters Square. I was sending off to Oxford University and to Manchester’s John Rylands libraries for copies of rare books. I was doing all this just for my own self esteem. If anything, my professional life was fighting against me in this. Under this pressure, the thesis stalled. The deadline was the end of May 1989. By April, I had given up. It was just too much. Until my wife gave me a good kicking. She had given up too much to let me fail and she knew how much it meant to me. Throughout the Easter holidays I just sat and wrote in long hand page after page of analysis while Pauline typed them up on my first ever computer the Amstrad PCW.

Suddenly everything clicked. My thesis revealed itself as if by magic. It was done. I had to have it professionally typed and bound to publication standard. It had to be with my thesis supervisor, Professor Bill Stafford by the last Friday in May, 1989. Actually, we drove up to his home in Leeds and gave it to him two days late which he accepted. It was done. I felt as if the failures of the past had been salved. But why did it take so long? Why do I always have to do everything the hard way?

Thursday, 1st April, 2021

“April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.”

T.S. Eliot – The Waste Land

Like one of my heroes, T.S.Elliot, I went out early into the garden this morning and smelt the Summer coming. Having gone through a rocky, late Winter patch, I can feel the awakening Spring rain stirring memory and desire. I realise that, as I race rapidly in to 70, every moment must be grasped and savoured. At 7.00 am the ‘official’ temperature is 12C/54F but felt so much warmer in the micro climate of the garden.

It would be strange to list 1989 as the climax of one’s life but, in one sense, it was. What started all those years ago in Ripon College 1969 ended twenty years later in Huddersfield University in 1989. What a long haul but I got there. Of course, life doesn’t stop. We have to seek new challenges. I decided to make a new life in Europe. At the same time, I was trying to improve my cultural development at home.

I wrote a couple of days ago about my dominant personality. Like an alcoholic, I would periodically feel ashamed and give myself a good talking to, make resolutions and then quickly go back to old ways. I was determined to explore art. My research period had incorporated the 19^th century Romantic movement, neo-Gothic, neo-Medieval, Pre-Raphaelite and Arts & Crafts movements. I flooded our house with giant, framed prints of Rosseti, Burne-Jones, Waterhouse and Morris through to Whistler, spending thousands of pounds in the process. My wife said she liked them but I’m sure she had to work quite hard to do so. What a selfish soul I am!

I became obsessed with Waterhouse for a while and actively searched out paintings for the house/Gallery.

Whistler marked the end of this movement historically and in our house. Soon after he arrived on the walls, we were selling up and moving to Surrey. Pauline carefully bubble-wrapped and labelled all 53 huge pictures. They were loaded into a lorry and taken in to store. As soon as we got into our duplex apartment near Woking, it was immediately clear that the paintings were totally inappropriate. They were too big for any of the walls. We gave them to the local Hospice to sell for their charity and for a few years we received information as they sold another and raised more money.

I bought two, leather bound computer chairs for the Office in January. The moment I sat in one, I knew it wasn’t good enough. I ordered two different ones and, today, the originals are going to the local Hospice shop. After that we are doing an hour’s walk along the fringe of the woods that bound our development. The temperature is a pleasant 18C/65C and the sun is tanning my face. I quickly revert to Mediterranean which is polite way of admitting I look old.

Friday, 2nd April, 2021

Awake at 5.00 am and up at 6.30 am. It really is a good Friday. The sky is blue. The sun is out and all seems well with the world. Sainsbury’s delivery at 8.00 am and then a walk.

In the 1990s, I was determined to induct myself into the world of opera. I started with a monthly primer magazine as an introduction and progressed through cassette tapes, video tapes and live performances.

Before I went to my first live performance, I had spent hours listening, learning and singing along to numerous performances. Opera makes me cry. Everything makes me cry. Never attend an opera with me. I was banned by my wife when I took her to a performance of La Boehme by Opera North in Huddersfield. Pauline wanted to leave after the first act because I was singing loudly under my breath while simultaneously sobbing. It’s not something you’d pay good money for is it? ? I loved the emotional fragility of Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor and the heart breaking pathos of Puccini’s La Boehme. Sunday morning opera sessions in our Lounge were near suicidal!

I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain
I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I’d see you again …

As a counterpoint to this, I want to introduce two, final pieces of ‘pop’ music. I would drive across Europe from Calais to Ancona – 1000mls/1600kms/circa 18 hrs continuous driving. I did all the driving and it can be tiring particularly because we started on the day we closed school for the summer. It is easy to fall asleep at the wheel and, if you don’t drive at an average of 95-100 mph, you may miss the ferry. Consequently, my navigator and partner had to keep talking, pinching and slapping me to stay awake. We always hit the Swiss Alpine downhill roads at 2.00 am in pitch blackness as the rain had softly fallen and made them like glass.

You and me we can ride on a star
If you stay with me, girl, we can rule the world …

We found one other way to maintain concentration. We would play songs and sing along as we drove. My choice was James Taylor. What an intelligent performer! You’ve got a friend / Don’t let me be lonely tonight / Shower the people you love with love /  I could sing them in my sleep although, at the time, the purpose was to not do that. For Pauline, it was Take That. I actually began to enjoy it myself. Back for Good / Relight my Fire / Never Forget. They will always be in my memory and associated with good times. I loved living in Greece with all the challenges it threw up but one of my favourite times was the drive through Europe – Belgium Luxembourg, France, Germany, Switzerland, Italy. I drove that route one way or the other exactly 30 times – more than 30,000 mls – and even got to like the same service stations that we called at for coffee.

I’m continuing to explore Spanish properties while they are so cheap. I think it’s got to be a new-build. This one looks ideal. It is in the area of Murcia. Our friends had a property in Mazzaron. This is in Aguilas which is a bit further south and looks nicely positioned. The development has a number of facilities we like with pools and a gym. The apartment has a large balcony and floor to ceiling glass sea views. I’ve sent for details.

Saturday, 3rd April, 2021

Woke feeling a little sad this morning. Outside is grey, cool and distinctly unwelcoming. I’m told it’s Saturday but I really wouldn’t know. It’s strange but, when one feels sad, the world seems to be punctuated with sad things. As I woke at 6.00 am, BBC R4 was broadcasting a programme from Stormont in Northern Ireland. The historic, Good Friday Agreement was negotiated by the wonderful Mo Mowlam 23 years ago and she has been dead now from a brain tumour for 16 years. How transient life is!

On this day 12 years ago we retired from work. We were both 57 although I was going to be 58 in 3 days time. Prior to retiring, I had spent weeks and months calculating our final salary monthly pension, our lump sums and we were negotiating redundancy payoffs as well. I had to balance it all against our outgoings which were dominated by a huge mortgage. It took one entire salary every month. Retiring allowed us to pay it off completely and instantly. As a result, not working meant we were immensely better off. I wouldn’t want you to feel sorry for us. We were never poor but retirement has been wonderful.

One of the things that (some) people worry about in retirement is the gradual erosion of their pension’s purchasing power despite our inflation-proofed income. This happens when wages across the country rise above the inflation rate. The 12 years of our retirement could not have been more useful in this respect. Wages were frozen or went back since the financial crash of 2008 while ours have increased with inflation. We have felt incredibly fortunate and still do.

I quite enjoyed Teaching but I don’t miss it at all. I sometimes miss the sense of purpose that daily work prescribes but there is always that lovely feeling of waking and thinking that we can do exactly as we wish. I like to burn the candle at both ends and always have. Up early and late to bed but now I do it out of choice. Life is short and, in my view, it is important to squeeze as much out of it as possible. Sleeping is not part of that. We had always intended that retirement would be dominated by travel. In fact, we have been travelling since 1981 – 40 long years.

Our first house was on the roadside in a smallish village. Just down the road was the famous David Brown tractor factory. We would regularly see trails of brand new tractors chugging through the woods to their test track. Our first holiday together was to the small, Greek Ionian island of Zakynthos nowadays called Zante. There was no island airport in those days and we flew 4.5 hrs to Athens, 5 hr bus to Killini Port on the Peloponnese followed by a ferry to the island. We were exhausted even as fit 30 yr olds. The very first thing we were confronted with in Zakynthos port was a David Brown tractor.

We had booked 3 weeks in a ‘villa’ in Argassi, Zakynthos. Neither of us spoke Greek, had eaten Greek food or experienced Greek heat in August. Within a couple of days, we were completely hooked. It began a 40 year project which involved more than 15 islands but with the Cycladic island of Sifnos at its heart. I hope to explore that next week but, now, although we can go no where, we are planning for the future which we think will be in Spain. There has to be a future. I will not give up!

Sunday, 21st March, 2021

Glorious, warm – 15C/59F – and sunny morning. Been out for an early hour of walking. Sitting, shattered in the kitchen with the conservatory doors wide open as the sun and warmth streams in. Annoying little reminders keep popping up on my iPad telling me to complete the Census form. I love census data. It is so useful for finding people. It is a researcher’s dream. Of course, everybody should fill it out on pain of paying £1000.00/€1161.00 fine if they don’t.

I filled ours in on line a week ago and payed specific attention to two discrete areas. Religion is one. As a life long atheist, I am delighted to shout that and I was pleased to read predictions that, over a 20 year span, those ticking Christian will have fallen from 72% in 2001 to 59% in 2011 and possibly 48% in 2021. The other area which gave me pleasure was in identifying as European in National Identity. Like so many others, nothing will make me a Little Englander!

As we were planning to establish ourselves on a remote Greek island with a sizeable and potentially expensive  bridging loan for £60,000.00/€70,000.00, we knew we would need to raise money for the building. We put our home in the country on the market and decided to use some equity from that to help. Effectively, we expected to downsize. In reality, we bought a bigger home in a smaller plot of land. We were never at home to look after the garden so it was a sensible swap.

The Helme house sold very quickly, we paid off the loan and moved into Quarry Court on the day we also set off for a drive across Europe to Greece for a six week stay. We thought we were trading down but it turned out to be a delightful place to live with beautiful views and lovely neighbours. The triple garage was a real bonus! We stayed 10 happy years before moving to Surrey via a temporary let in Huddersfield.

We had retired from work, sold our home, were spending 6 months in our Greek home and 6 months in UK. It made sense to have a smaller home. Pauline’s Mum died shortly after we came back from Greece in October 2010 at the age of 97. Having sold our Quarry Court home, we had the unique experience of being with her for her last few weeks and we were living in her sheltered accommodation. We actually slept in the Hair Dressing salon of the establishment. It was worth it. She wasn’t alone.

We had bought a duplex apartment off-plan in the heart of Surrey. We needed somewhere to use for Winter which wasn’t too big and could be locked-up and left for 6 months of the year. It was also so much closer to the Channel Tunnel for our drive to Greece. I’d always fancied apartment living but soon realised it wasn’t really for us and we only stayed 5 years – until we’d sold the Greek house.

Monday, 22nd March, 2021

Bit grey although mild this morning. Bin Day – all 3. How will I cope? At 9.00 am, the Covid tester arrived and we both completed our 10th, throat & nose swab test. Another £50.00/€58.20 in the bank. So far, we have been paid £600.00/€700.00 which should buy us a nice hotel room when we can travel.

I’m looking for small things to cheer me up at the moment. This cartoon appeals to my rather warped sense of humour:

Almost at the end of the journey now although I hope not literally. Once again, we looked to buy a new-build property off-plan. Having left Greece, Pauline was desperate to be near to the sea. The difference about property selling in Surrey was the speed at which it sold and the fact that it had almost doubled in value over 5 years. West Sussex is an incredibly expensive place to live if you compare it with West Yorkshire. It is amusing and shocking to calculate that we could buy 120 of our first home in Meltham in 1978 for the value of our current home in Angmering, West Sussex in 2021. How anyone gets on the property ladder for the first time now?

Who knows what is next? We are never really settled or satisfied. We have become rather addicted to moving and setting up new homes. At one point, it almost became a way of life in itself. In some ways, being itinerant allows one to leave problems in the past like Norman Nicholson described in his poem about a little lad desperate to be older than he is, Rising Five:

The new buds push the old leaves from the bough.
We drop our youth behind us like a boy
Throwing away his toffee-wrappers. We never see the flower,
But only the fruit in the flower; never the fruit,
But only the rot in the fruit. We look for the marriage bed
In the baby’s cradle, we look for the grave in the bed; 
                           not living,
But rising dead. 

Sorry if that is a bit of a depressing note to end on but it rather catches my current mood. …..

Well, the grey skies having completely departed. Not a cloud in the sky as we’ve done our walk in strong, warm sunshine. Hope you did too. There is always hope.

Tuesday, 23rd March, 2021

Up early on a grey start to the day but a little pinprick of sunshine has just broken through and I am very grateful for that. Let’s hope it develops over time.

Just received a text from an old friend which has left me very sad. A couple – Pat & Derek – who were on our staff and about 10+ years older than us retired to the Yorkshire countryside. We last saw them three years ago when both appeared well and happy. A year later, Pat was dead of bowel cancer. Today I learned that Derek has been taken in to a care home exactly on the second anniversary of his wife’s death. His dementia had become such a problem that he was no longer able to look after himself. The huge, strong man who had so much life has fallen in to such a decline that he cannot look after himself over a period of just two years. It is almost unbearable to consider.

I have tried to live my adult life on a calm, controlled and thoughtful level. I am not an actor. My face gives me away immediately. I was quite a good Bridge player because of my memory for numbers and sequences but my face and eyes and body language reflect everything going on inside my head which betrays my game to opponents. I wear my heart on my sleeve and cry easily. As I have written before, music is particularly a trigger. None of these things am I ashamed of. They are part of me. In some respect they are admirable qualities because they speak of honesty and truth. I have never subscribed to the stiff upper lip, be a man approach. I do not feel any weaker because of my character. People who have tried to stand in my way will testify to that!

However, there are times when I would be grateful for the ability to act and to shield my feelings. At College, I took subsid. Drama because it seemed to naturally fit with English Lit.. A lot of it was rolling around on the Hall floor in the darkness pretending to be trees or ghosts which was never me. I spent an enjoyable few days as an extra on an ITV police series in 1971 but mainly because the professionals like Alun Armstrong, were so interesting. The Drama goup had to put on a production and I appeared in Henrik Ibsen’s Peer Gynt which I can’t say I was either good at or particularly enjoyed. I am better analysing the text.

Just like yesterday, the afternoon has turned Mediterranean with clear blue skies and strong sunshine. Been out for an hour’s walk. After spending so many years living in Greece, I find my skin tans very easily. Even March rays are giving me a colour.

Wednesday, 24th March, 2021

The start of the last week of March already. We are well in to the Spring Equinox and clocks go forward at the weekend. In Europe – C.E.T. – this may be the last time. They voted to keep their clocks unchanged and this will make an interesting difference when we/if we ever start travelling again.

I lead quite a strong interior life – thinking, reading and writing. Looking back, I always have. I love physical activity and need it desperately to make me feel alive but I live in my head a lot. The former friend and ex-colleague who I wrote about yesterday moving in to a Care Home for Dementia sufferers made me think over night about my own memory which someone described recently as ‘Dodgy’. Although I don’t think I am at dementia stage yet, my memory has always been extremely selective.

I was lying in bed trying to recall the name of an artist from my past and try as I might, it just wouldn’t come to me. I fell asleep worrying about dementia. I’m sure this happens to most of us at times. I woke up this morning and her name popped straight into my head.

As that name arrived from outer space aka my memory, it brought with it a book I read at around the same time. Although we probably didn’t verbalise it or even acknowledge it at the time, it was an early introduction to socialism in action. I became a student just as the student protests of 1968 were being softened and addressed by European governments.

There was a broad movement in opposition to the Vietnam War all over the United States as well as in London, Paris, Berlin and Rome. Mass movements grew not only in the United States but also elsewhere. In most Western European countries, the protest movement was dominated by students. The most spectacular manifestation of these was the May 1968 protests in France, in which students linked up with wildcat strikes of up to ten million workers, and for a few days the movement seemed capable of overthrowing the government.

I was no radical. I had come from a very middle class, conservative home and very sheltered even stultifying village life. I had never eaten fish & chips out of newspaper for goodness sake and my Mother sent me off to college in khaki slacks, a striped nylon shirt with a mustard-coloured cravat topped off by a newly bought and very expensive £50.00/€58.00 country gentleman’s jacket which I quickly sold to my friend in digs, Nigel. She thought she was doing her best for me in spite of my protests and she was devastated to see me come home in the green coat I bought for £5.00/€5.80 from Millets. She called it a toilet attendant’s coat.

My memory may be dodgy but also rich and selective. I will resist being disposed of yet by anybody.

Thursday, 25th March, 2021

Pleasant but quite cool morning. I’m feeling a bit of a lethargy today. Pauline has been buying clothes and is now vacuuming and steam cleaning all the downstairs floors while I am reviewing travel plans for the coming year. I have jobs to do but just can’t be bothered. 

We recouped all the cash we laid out last year for travel which amounted to about £10,000.00 all together but we allowed one booking to be carried over because of the generous deal on offer. We had booked a suite for 4 days of late August at the Electra Palace Hotel in Athens. We paid in full around £1200.00/€1400.00 long before the pandemic hit in March. It was the first time since 1981 that we hadn’t visited Athens at least once each year. We’ve also got £700.00/€815.00 tied up in flights as well which we deferred. They will have to be rolled over again unless things change rapidly.

We have been regulars at this hotel and they offered to roll over our booking for 18 months and return the cash in full if we didn’t use it. Throughout the last horrible year, we have expected to be there in late August 2021 but, recently, we have begun to have some doubts. We genuinely thought we might be driving in France in June. I’d love to go back to Paris. It seems years since we were there. It appears as if we may have to put dreams of France off a while. All of this is depressing but I am holding the faith. It will happen!

Now I’ve got that out of my system, I’m ready for some exercise. Actually, just before that, my cloud photo storage system’s memory for today is the picture above. We were in our Greek home for school, Easter Holidays and Greek Easter 2008. Half a lamb was collected from Apostolos & Moshca and our lemon trees were fruiting heavily. There is nothing better than picking lemons from your own tree and splashing its ultra-fresh juice on hot, roasting lamb. Must do some exercise!

Friday, 26th March, 2021

We were told it would be raining here today but at 11.30 am there is still absolutely no sign. We were up at 6.00 am for a Sainsbury‘s delivery at 7.00 am. Beautiful, sunny morning. We were doing our walk by 9.00 am. The only problem with all of that is what to do with the long day stretching out when we get home.

I left home in September 1969 and we had never had a television at home before I went. It felt strange because all the lads at Grammar School would be talking about things they’d watched the night before but which I knew nothing about. My parents theory was that it would be too distracting from our homework. Most of my access to popular culture was from the radio and stultifying post-war singalongs like Workers’ Playtime and The Cliff Adams Singers which Mum loved. At school some of the older boys talked about Dylan and Baez and I managed to hear some and they felt as if they were speaking my language.

There’s a battle outside and it is ragin’
It’ll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’

Oh please let it shake my windows. That’s exactly what I needed. I needed to be somewhere else and that’s when I first heard Go Now by The Moody Blues.

It was one of those seminal moments and it is no exaggeration to say that when I first heard it on pirate Radio Caroline, I thought something had exploded in my head. It was like a signal that was talking to me. I had never been so affected by anything like that before. I had enjoyed the frisson of anarchy that early Beatles had provided as a backdrop to my teenage years but this was something entirely different.

And go I did. I wanted to go to Newcastle University to read English Lit. but I had no conception of the competition at the time for Arts Degrees. When I went up for interview, I was shown in to a candidates room with the most wonderful collection of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen in my life. Never had I wanted to go to university so much but it was all too late. I hadn’t worked hard enough for the 3 x Grade A A’ Levels that they demanded. As so often, the girls were snatched away before I got started.

I grabbed at anywhere that would get me away from home and there were girls. I found an all-women’s training college that was accepting a handful of men. In that interview, they were begging me to take the place. Would I be able to cope with so many young women and only 19 other men? I told them I would do my best. I didn’t need to. I was taken off the market in the first week.

On my first day, I was driven up to Ripon by my mother. Mr & Mrs Boyd were letting out their top floor to students. We carried my trunk up those steep stairs and heard a very loud noise coming from one room. It was a small, communal room with a table and chairs. On the table was a record player blasting out a noise I had never heard in my life. Under the table was a young man who was going to be my Digs companion for the next two years. Nigel, like so many of the other lads in my year, was so much older than me although I didn’t know it at the time. The noise he was playing was Leonard Cohen’s Songs from a Room. My mother looked at me as if she had delivered her eldest son to an alternative circle of Dantes Inferno. She left very quickly for the peace of her quiet Midlands village and never returned.

Saturday, 27th March, 2021

The most beautiful day after a wonderful sleep. Early walk again today. We are expecting an extended warm period over the next week so the garden furniture will be brought out and cleaned up for early use. Goodness knows when we will get abroad. I was even looking at hotels in Paris yesterday and then the news that Pas du Nord had gone in to tougher lockdown measures rather put me off.

You, who are on the road
Must have a code that you can live by
And so, become yourself
Because the past is just a goodbye

Teach Your Children – Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

At the risk of boring you, I am going to continue with the theme of My Music including a story that I have never spoken to anybody about in 50 years. I busked my way through much of college time doing as little as possible. I remember talking in a tutorial about a Joseph Conrad novel, The Secret Agent for about 20 mins having only read the blurb on the back of the book. I was very pleased with myself although I learnt later that my tutor had been in despair.

I was just too busy learning what life was about, learning what sort of person I wanted to be, learning a code to live by. I wasn’t even that sure I really wanted to be a teacher. I learnt I hated discos but I loved music. The college discos were playing Motown which I really didn’t appreciate and Elton John was also particularly popular. He did little for me either although I liked his piano playing.

In our final year, I had to write a dissertation and with the help of my dear, old friend, David MacAndrew, I chose to write on the poetry of Cumbrian poet, Norman Nicholson who I’d done a poetry reading with at Leeds Town Hall. It is the only time I worked really hard and enjoyed it. I actually spent time in the Library researching.

I knew a lot of the students who worked in the Arts Block and they had practical Exhibitions to put on instead of a thesis. They had to put in hours of work in this separate building before they were finished. On the ground floor of that building was a piano. The room was always empty and quiet and I sat there in the evenings while the others worked upstairs on their exhibitions. It was a lovely opportunity to have the piano to myself. Night after night I played down there alone. I was teaching myself a slow, sad tune. The left hand was syncopation and the right hand overlaid cadences of sadness.

One evening a figure appeared in the room as I played. It was a lady with grey-white hair scraped back into a bun like a typical, spinster school ma’am. I think her name was Miss Rimmer – a teacher in the Art Faculty. So you’re the source of this sadness night after night, she said. Yes, I’m sorry, I replied. No, not at all. I’ve been enjoying it, she said and left. The next evening as I played, she came in and said, Move up. and she sat next to me on the stool. Much more expertly than me, she took over the left hand and we played for a few minutes. With a twinkle in her eye, she was gone. We never spoke about it again but I learned that the piano is the most moving instrument to accompany the human condition as I will describe in the dramatic developments of the next stage of life in Sunday’s Blog.

One, final coda to this stage: David MacAndrew and Tony Axon – my English tutors – and a lecturer who I did a brief Philosophy unit with all tried hard to persuade me to stay on for a 4th year to complete a Degree. I assume it was a B.Ed.. Possibly I should have done but was just too keen to get in to the next stage of life. I wanted to build a life. I thought I could do it. It proved harder than I expected.

Sunday, 14th March, 2021

Out for an early walk this morning under a weak sun. It is amazing how short 5 miles begin to feel the more you do the same route.

Time and perspective across it have been occupying my thoughts for a while and I suspect my upcoming 70^th birthday is partly the driver of that. There is a desire to look back as much as forward when more stretches behind than appears in front. I have something of an understanding of my origins in family and place. Recently, I have been reaching out to that intermediate time when I left home and started to forge a life for myself.

It is a shock to think that I left home over 50 years ago. A couple of months ago, I put a photo up of Pauline & I celebrating 42 years of marriage. A girl who I knew at College and who I haven’t seen since a party in Rochester, Kent in 1974 saw my posting and contacted me to say she would have been celebrating her 49^th this year had things worked out for her. I immediately felt sorry that my posting had evoked that emotion in her but it left the images of her, her ex-husband who I had shared Digs with, the place, the events, the feelings, the music, the art, the poetry flooding through my head, almost overwhelming my Present. On Friday, I was watching an cricket match in India when she announced she was doing exactly the same thing. A simple thing but an absolutely weird feeling reaching across 50 years!

I have an unbearable desire to reach my hand across the time to touch the past. It’s not so unusual. People like to touch old artefacts – Stonehenge, Roman coins, etc. – in an attempt to feel a connection with past times. My need is almost visceral. I have always had this desire to return to places I have known if only to touch base. Sometimes, they disappoint but it still fulfils a need.

Last night I forced Pauline to endure a difficult, historically-based film. Fanny Lye Deliver’d is a British period drama film, set in Cromwell’s period of 1657 on a Shropshire farm. It stars Maxine Peake who I love. It is a difficult and slow first half hour and an almost unbearable subsequent hour. How anyone really managed to survive the conditions of life in mid-17^th Century England goodness only knows. A life of harshness and cruelty, of cold, dark, smoky, wet and muddy, insanitary existence. I do not have any desire to reach back that far.

Monday, 15th March, 2021

Half way through March already. What is happening? Well, it’s a sunny, mild day but we know that is deceptive because cold weather is due to return later in the week. At least that will be moderated down here.

Went on a blind date with a girl who mixes concrete for a living. Things were going great till I put my foot in it.

I’m a bit set in my ways.

Major panic this morning. The bin men came early. Only black bag today so I just managed to catch them.Wouldn’t want you worrying about me.

Amazing how memories can fade unless they have real meaning. I have never been one for going to pubs or clubs. I prefer small, intimate gatherings. I think I could count all the pubs I’ve been to over the past 50 years on the fingers of two hands. The poorly focussed image above is of our Student Union building where I would make a mad dash at night to be there in time for Last Orders. Actually, the barman, who was called Maurice and who boasted that he regularly drank 12 pints a night, was easily open to extending the deadline for friendly people like me. What worries me is that I probably look as out of date as those cars!

Tuesday, 16th March, 2021

Up early for a 7.00 am Sainsbury’s delivery on a warm morning. The kitchen still smelled of the aromas of Pauline’s activities yesterday afternoon.

She normally makes wholemeal but had white flour to use up or throw away. With one or two lapses, I have not eaten bread for nearly ten years. I have not eaten potatoes, pasta or rice either. The sources of carbohydrate fuelled my blood sugar and Type 2 Diabetes. Cutting them out completely eradicated my Diabetes and absolutely amazed my doctor.

Yesterday, I was contacted on Twitter by Dr. Mitchell. That name haunts me. Having recently retired, he was burning stacks of his old case notes. In May 2000, I went to see him about a back problem. His first words were, Never mind your back. Can I come and view your house? which we had just put on the market. He was in the middle of developing his Practice surgery in Meltham. Our house was in the lovely, nearby, Conservation village of Helme. A Huddersfield Town footballer came to bid for it as well but, eventually it went to the doctor who we’ve stayed in touch with ever since.

It’s turned in to quite a mild day – 15C/59F – but rather grey and uninviting. I’m doing a workout in the gym and watching Politics Live. Later, we will griddle Tuna steaks out in the garden and eat them with green bean salad. If only I’d stuck to this diet while living in Yorkshire. I wouldn’t have to struggle so hard now.

Wednesday, 17th March, 2021

Beautiful, sunny and warm morning. We are going to have a walk on the beach before High Tide. Still feeling like a hand grenade has been thrown in to my life and I can’t understand why. Still picking up the pieces. The header on my Blog carries the T.S. Eliot line:

These fragments I have shored against my ruin ….

and I feel I need them more than ever now. Partly because of that, I am continuing to spend some time digitising and preserving past memories.

Slade House, Helme on the day we moved in – October 1984 – was fairly raw land. It had
¾ acre of garden which attracted me. I wanted to grow things.

We were very busy at work and wanted to develop a good garden with lawns and shrubs on one side but with a deep bed vegetable patch down the other as an antidote to our daily lives.

It was very hard work but great fun. I found I really loved gardening and, particularly, growing vegetables as my father had done before me. A local man installed the hard standing and the beds. Pauline did the weeding. I just enjoyed growing things.

During our time there, I was head of a school housed in a pagoda-style building which first opened in 1891. All the furniture was original, ornate, integrated mahogany. Every classroom, office, toilet had these huge, heavy doors. Every classroom and office had built in storage units/bookcases fashioned just like the doors. When it was finally closed and demolished, I had the door of my office delivered to my Yorkshire home. Pauline stripped it of a century of paint and had it installed as our back door. As a tangible connection with the past and my past, it really appealed to me.

In reality, we probably spent too long there. I loved it and resisted Pauline’s urgings to move on, make a profit and reinvest. We did sell it for 4x the price we bought it and I did finally realise that there was a life beyond Helme.

These images and thoughts swirled round my mind as we walked for an hour this morning. One of the people we will visit when we return to the North will be the doctor and our old property. I wonder what happened to the door?

Thursday, 18th March, 2021

Everything in our house is insured and serviced comprehensively. Nothing is left to chance. Today, the house security system is being serviced. The maintenance contract only cost about £100.00/€117.00 per year and probably isn’t needed so often but we set it up anyway. The boiler/central heating was done recently although at just 5 years old, it shouldn’t really need it. Today, our new house warranty which covered everything from structure to decoration, fittings and white goods comes to an end. Tomorrow, we’ll probably find the dishwasher, washing machine, wine cooler, fridge-freezer, built in oven, etc, will pack up in acknowledgement of the passing deadline. They don’t have to worry. We’ve got them covered.

I’m digitising houses at the moment and this was our first – a 19th century Coaching House in Meltham. In June 1978, all my worldly possessions were packed in to the back of an old, white mini and delivered to this house above. We spent our first 6 years here. It had 3 bedrooms, a bathroom, large kitchen, large lounge and a walk-in pantry. Outside was an open double garage with inspection pit for when the Rolls-Royce was stored there and serviced by the chauffeur of the big house.

Pauline liked to scour the local antique/junk shops for period pieces to furnish it. She found the wallpaper in a Philips television advert in a magazine. I wrote to them and they told me it was from Osborne & Little. We sourced the wallpaper and bought the TV which you can see is state of the art. My one real claim to DIY fame was to open up the fireplace, source the stone surrounds from a local quarry and install them along with the hearth.

Sunday mornings were often spent collecting logs for the fire from our nearby wood. It was all so long ago. We sold this property in 1984 for 10 x the price we bought it and it gave us the platform to move on and up.

Friday, 19th March, 2021

On the 14th April, 2000, I had been 49 for just over a week. We had finished school early for Easter Holidays and dashed home to Helme, got out of our suits and into our jeans. We stuck our pre-packed bags into our car and set off for Manchester Airport. The flight to Athens airport – the now defunct Ellinikon International – was late evening so we ate in their best restaurant before take-off. The flight was timed to arrive at around 3.00 am in time for a bus down to Piraeus Harbour and the F/b Agios Giorgios via Kythnos & Serifos to Sifnos. Leaving at 8.00 am, it was a 5½ hour ferry journey which always left us exhausted.

We were renting Villa Margarita for a fortnight and a small car to get around. Very soon after we arrived and settled in, we were offered a 4 acre field across the valley to purchase. It was far too big and much more than we wanted to pay for land. Back in 2000, it seemed very expensive at £60,000.00/€71,000.00 just for a big field. We hadn’t got that amount sitting in our Bank Account for such an event.

Pauline phoned our bank on her mobile from this little blob of rock in the middle of the Aegean sea. She asked to speak to our personal account manager. She could hear her assistant calling across the office in the 10 Yorkshire Street Branch in Oldham. Sue – our personal account manager, could be heard to shout, What do they want? The assistant said, A bridging loan for £60,000.00 to build a house on a Greek island. Sue’s instant reply was, Tell them ‘Yes’.

We had good jobs and decent salaries but even we were a bit surprised how easy it was to get the money. Sue, our personal manager, who became a friend before she moved on to work for the Private Bank of Coutts, had already visited our island of Sifnos and had dreamed of having a house there. After agreeing the loan, she visited the island again and viewed the field she had helped us invest in. She was personally invested in our project which would take nearly 5 years to fully realise.

More about the Greek Story tomorrow. Yes, I know you’re desperate but, like all good things, it will come later. Today is the most magnificent, warm and sunny day. We have driven out 50 mins in to Hampshire and are visiting Hayling Island and walking on the beach in this wonderful weather. Walk with me.

Saturday, 20th March, 2021

Mild, grey morning. Went out early for some fresh, sea air around Littlehampton. Fishing boats were gutting and preparing their catch, tossing the waste into the sea for the gulls.

Returning to our Greek project which had begun in 1984 by a chance browse through a travel brochure for me. A now defunct company called Freedom Travel specialised in isolated, Greek islands. A picture of a gorgeous, bare chested girl emerging from the sea on the island of Sifnos in the Cyclades caught my eye and I told my wife that was where I wanted to go. We booked for the summer and were absolutely hooked. We returned every year, usually twice a year until we decided to build a property for ourselves. 

Our Greek friend who found the land for us assured me that we could build a small house for around £50,000.00/€59,000.00 on top of the cost of the land. I wanted to believe him and, although sceptical, tried hard to convince myself that it was something I would regret if we didn’t at least try. About 5 years later and at least £200,000.00/€236,000.00 poorer, we were able to move in. It was never going to be easy but we hadn’t realised how demanding it would be. The processes of officialdom the Greek state puts in place are really daunting. We would not have managed without the support of a Greek friend holding our hand all the way.

We had to rely on our Greek friend to manage the project while we worked hard in UK to earn the money to pay for it. We had massive mortgages and were constantly sending additional tranches of £20,000.00 at a time without really knowing what it was funding. We were flying out at Easter for 2 weeks and driving there for 6 weeks and the rest just carried on without us.

I would get calls on my mobile in school from our architect in Athens speaking Greek rapidly which completely stretched my ability but, by 2005, the shipping container we had been urgently filling with beds and tables, chairs and benches, a full IKEA flatpack kitchen, a log burning stove, television, etc., was driven from the port up to our house, installed and we started to live quietly above the port.

We were incredibly pleased to have been the first on the island to have installed underfloor heating and we were able to transport the quality of our English life to a small, Greek island.

We were not there to downgrade our life but to graft the simplicity of Greek island life onto comforts of our UK existence.

We had to have satellite tv, internet access, residential affluence allied to Greek island charm and I think we achieved it.

In late 2014, things started to crash around us and we were so relieved to sell up and get out unhurt. We look back now with such relief. How could we have managed this under a pandemic let alone the iniquitous Brexit! We are about to be 70 but are already thinking of buying abroad again. We can’t just sit around waiting to die.

Sunday, 7th March, 2021

The morning opened beautifully all round. Strong sunshine encouraged us out early. We went down to the beach. We’ve been here almost 5 years now but have never seen the Oyster Pond being cleaned out. The displaced swans were flapping around on the beach.

All around Europe, coastlines have been experiencing extremely low tides. Kamares port on Sifnos has seen its beach stretch well out into the sea over the past week. Littlehampton Beach is usually shingle but consists currently of vast swathes of sand.

The deserted breakwater reaches out as if for a hand to hold but in vain. Sometime soon, the tide will come back in and envelop it in the soothing waters that are its destiny and purpose.

I had a horrible ‘senior moment’ yesterday. When she was 96, Pauline’s lovely Mum was in and out of hospital quite frequently. When she was at home in her apartment, she had a rigorous skincare routine. All the stuff that women plaster their bodies with was applied. In one of her final hospital visits, Pauline was at her bedside and helped her walk to the toilet. As she passed a mirror and not having her creams and lotions with her, the 96 year old exclaimed, Oh no, my wrinkles are coming back. It was one of those seminal, never-give-in moments. Yesterday, I found a wrinkle on my arm!!!

Pauline has asked my help to find some friends from her college in London 1970 – 73. It doesn’t exist anymore having been absorbed by London University. If you don’t know, Pauline is the blonde on the back, left. I always went for the small, intelligent ones but rarely for blondes. I’m proud to say that I never asked a girl out in my life. I always got selected by them. Actually, I don’t think I was capable of such a nerve-wracking move. I didn’t and still don’t understand girls.

Monday, 8th March, 2021

Cold over night and we opened the morning with yet another lovely, sunny day but only around 10C/50F. Feeling a bit of an emptiness this morning. Something is missing. Just going through the humdrum of everyday life. Putting the bins out, unstacking the dishwasher and so on. Had to do my Official INR and email it off to Worthing Hospital. Spent some time in the gym not exercising but servicing the equipment. I’m not practical at all so I had to have an Assistant who is.

I have been trying to find a photo of the College building Pauline spent three years in at the start of the 1970s. I get accused of living in the past but we all need to touch our history at some stage. My need is just much greater than some others. The college was absorbed in to London University by 1978 and the building demolished. We think this is a photo of its last years.

In 1972, a friend and I were looking for teaching jobs. Ironically, one of the first places we looked was in London. I had a job interview in Ealing. I was offered a post teaching English but my friend, who I think was looking in Haringey, wasn’t so we moved on. However, I’ve been sent this unwritten and pristine postcard which features a private residential Club in Lansdowne Road, Tottenham. I knew immediately what it was but not my historical connection to it. I can actually remember walking down Lansdowne Road but did I stay there? I have no memory. Answers on a postcard, please.

Done an hour’s walk in lovely sunshine and I’m now going to finish off with another hour in the gym. Give me strength!

Tuesday, 9th March, 2021

Woke at 5.30 am and felt real optimism and hope. Who knows why. We were having a Sainsbury’s delivery at 7.00 am but that certainly wasn’t it. Quite cold – just 2C/36F – but blue sky and sunshine as far as the eye could see. Pauline’s iPad had given her notification over night that the order would not arrive until 8.00 am and would not contain skimmed milk. No skimmed milk? Who can live without that?

So it was for that we were out to our nearest supermarket, Asda Ferring, at 7.00 am. I was walking round the enormous carpark in the sunshine while Pauline indulged herself and went shopping for skimmed milk. It doesn’t get much better than this!

As soon as we got back, I made a digital card for one of my little sisters – Catherine who prefers to call herself Cathy nowadays. She is 66 which shocks me because it makes me feel old. People tell me not to worry but approaching landmark ages such as 70 does make one question one’s own mortality. In the end, of course, we can run away and hide or seize the day. It is our choice. My day is going to be seized by going for a long walk in the sunshine. Actually, it might be a bit painful because I’ve twisted my knee. This is what you get for carpe diem at (nearly) 70!

My cloud storage system throws up photographs of the past which I haven’t see for years. This morning it is really poking fun at me by putting up a picture taken almost exactly 40 years ago. I was 30 years old and spending 3 weeks on the island of Zakynthos/Zante. The worrying thing is that I remember the island. I remember the villa. I just don’t remember a body like that at all. Unfortunately, not many people do. Oh, my knee hurts!

We should have our second vaccination in early April – 2 days after I’m 70 – and be largely safe by the end of that month. How we will feel and what we will do, I have absolutely no idea. Today in the gym I will be watching a Swedish wartime love story with subtitles which is how I twisted my knee because I find it hard to read and run at the same time. Trouble is, I don’t learn.

Wednesday, 10th March, 2021

First grey day for a while. Not cold but only 8C/46F overnight. As a sun-worshipper, I find greyness depressing. Looking for lightness elsewhere in life instead so I’m continuing to mine the treasure trove of memorabilia I’ve been exploiting recently.

I went to a Grammar School which rather fashioned itself on the Public School ethic of Academic and Sporting excellence. I didn’t excel academically. I did in sport. My school was renowned for its Rugby Union and I was a big, strong, fast-running lad who was up for a fight. I absolutely loved it. I got my First Team colours a year early and played on the Left Wing. I played for Staffordshire. I was a sprinter and was made captain of the school Athletics team. I was constantly training but not revising for exams.

At College in 1969, the dominant sports were Football and Cricket. I was an embarrassment at both of them but there were just not enough ‘men’ to fill the teams so I was drafted in. As more men arrived in subsequent years, I was very understandably dropped. If Kevin is reading this, he will be nodding in agreement. Even so, my hairstyle was more of a joke than my sporting prowess as the photo above illustrates.

A lot of pandemic exercise has involved walking by the sea. My precious smartphone is clutched tightly in my hand and used to photograph anything of interest. It also collects location which is recorded and mapped. Never commit a murder or have an affair! What does it say about my life that my movement map is so restricted?

Thursday, 11th March, 2021

Didn’t sleep well. The night was dominated by the disturbance of strong, blustery wind which is so unsettling. I know I’ve quoted these lines before but they are so apposite.

This house has been far out at sea all night,
The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills,
Winds stampeding the fields under the window
Floundering black astride and blinding wet …

Ted Hughes – Wind – The Hawk in the Rain, 1957

In Hughes case, the atmospheric situation mirrored the turmoil in his mind, crashing around in the darkness towards a decision. It is possible to view that as a romantic, dramatic conceit or the attempt to describe an internal struggle.

The morning broke with beautiful sunshine but blustery, cool winds. We went down to the sea where a high tide was boiling on to the beach driven on by the wind. Actually, there were windsurfers out in the huge waves but few takers for coffee in the sunshine.

The afternoon finished in a gym session which will mean I have achieved my effort target every day for the past 30 days and covered 170 miles. Looking forward to expanding horizons again soon and walking in Mediterranean sunshine. The news isn’t good across Europe in that infection rates are surging again while tourism centres of Greece, France, Italy and Spain are hoping to gear up for the Summer. Here, we are told that the vaccine has much weaker effectiveness in Cancer sufferers and those with a depleted immune system which must be worrying.

It has been a dramatic day – for me a dénouement and the evening sky confirmed it. Ever seen something like this? It felt barely real. Let’s hope it portends a better future!

Friday, 12th March, 2021

Up early on an uncertain new day. Sainsbury’s delivery at 7.00 am. Lovely, sunny morning that was quickly interrupted by heavy, driving rain. That seems rather how life is at the moment. Hope for the best but expect the worst ….

“I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”

‘Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven’ – W. B. Yeats

The rain stopped and, just needing to get out of the house, we drove out to the nearby historical town of Steyning which dates back to Anglo Saxon times. It has a 12th Century church and many Tudor and earlier buildings. Parts reminded me of Chester, parts of Montreux in Northern France. I can’t stop living in the past.

I must admit, it made me feel rather old just going out for the sake of it – filling the time sight seeing but this is what we seem to have come to.

It is 27 weeks since Pauline had her hair cut. This morning we both remarked that it was looking better than ever. When I first met her in 1973, her long, blonde hair flowed down to her bottom. In recent years and particularly when she went to Sassoons, it has got progressively shorter with age. She hasn’t got even a hint of grey and Lockdown may prove a turning point for style.

Saturday, 13th March, 2021

Torrential rain storm battered the house in the middle of the night … so I’m told. I slept through it. The morning has opened with lovely sunshine but still breezy.

An item on R4 Today programme caught my attention this morning. It was about F.O.R.E or Fear of Re-Entry. For people who have been shielding – at least in part – over the past year, going back in to society raises some anxieties. People teetering around the age of 70 like us will have concerns about the effectiveness of the vaccine, the dangers of becoming infected if we return to ‘normal’ life suddenly. I haven’t been in a shop for so long that I’ve forgotten what they look like on the inside.

The first test will be when Pauline goes for a haircut. I will sit in a coffee shop for an hour or so. Mind you, if it’s as socially distanced as last time I took this photo, it shouldn’t raise concern.

What we really want to be doing is travelling, driving to the North of England and then right across Europe. We normally make two trips to Yorkshire/Lancashire each year to visit old friends and I can’t wait to do it again. We set retirement plans to travel across Europe and have done plenty of it but this year has been so hard – trapped and aging.

We have been so used to just deciding at the drop of a hat that we need some cultural change and booking Gatwick flights and a hotel over the ‘net’ and going. It is one of the joys of a comfortable retirement. Three years ago, on a whim, we spent some time in the city of Valencia. It was an absolute revelation. The weather was wonderful and the people delightful.

If I were to choose one place to move to now, it would be Valencia. Just a little apartment would do which we could run to for a few weeks when we felt like it. Even the flight is only a couple of hours which makes it all so easy. The time is running out. It would need at least £100,000/€117,000 to get something really comfortable which is what we would want. How many years would we use it for?

Sunday, 28th February, 2021

The end of February has been marked by the most wonderful day. From first thing the sun is blazing down. It is only 14C/57F but many in the neighbourhood are in t-shirt and shorts. The Sunday Times featured two items this morning over breakfast. The front page had a stunning photo of our local beach at Rustington.

It also featured a survey of the healthiest and happiest areas of the country to live. West Sussex featured prominently. I have to say, we aren’t surprised.

Even so, after watching the early political programmes, we went down to the sea just because we could. We drove through the old part of the village which is so dilapidated but looks typically of faded fishing community.

Even so, there are small boats going out every day. Down here on Littlehampton Marina, squalls of seagulls were marauding some boats as they moved their catch on to the docks. It is nice, just occasionally to stop and stare. It is quite calming. Let’s hope it presages a good week ahead for all of our readers.

Monday, 1st March, 2021

New month and new resolve to make the best of life. Have had a bit of a rocky week but have come through the other side feeling more reassured and stronger. Maybe I will write about it sometime. Now is not the time.

What a wonderful day it is Today. The weather is fantastic with bright sun from Dawn to Dusk and 15C/59F. Pauline has had a project. She is a chef. She loves cooking. She is making Beetroot Chutney. It is wonderful with cheese and salad. It will store for a year or more. Chutney making can stink the whole kitchen/house out because of the vinegar. We had a lovely, warm day and an outdoor kitchen for the cooking so no problem at all. 

We did a 5 mile walk at mid day to drink in the sunshine and get our hearts pacing. We didn’t have lunch. I am making a concerted attempt to control my appetite. I do so envy skinny people! I’m never going to be one. We griddled Swordfish Steaks out in the sunshine of the garden and ate it with Greek Salad and a bottle of Rioja. I have a feeling I might sleep well for the first time in a week.

Tomorrow, Dear Readers, Irish Partition politics – a subject which is dominating my thoughts this week. I will be looking forward to editorial suggestions as we go.

Tuesday, 2nd March, 2021

Another gorgeous morning. Up at 6.00 am. Sainsbury’s delivery at 7.30 am. And so the day starts. There follows quite a long Blog Post but it could be interesting if you stick with it. What else have you got to do? Certainly nothing more important.

I have recently been accused of living in the past. Very unkind, of course, because I’m a Historian. That’s what we do. Some try to suppress the past for fear of what it may reveal. Others try to embrace it as a guide to the future. During this pandemic and with restriction of movement really stopping us travelling, I have been enjoying filling in the background of my knowledge. My antecedents on my Mother’s side were Irish. My Grandfather was James, Joseph, Jeremiah Coghlan. He was born in Brighton (ironically, just down the road from where I now live) but his parents were from southern Ireland. Unfortunately, the connection is not close enough to claim Irish/EU citizenship.

Grandad’s name was Coghlan (an anglicisation of the Irish surname Ó Coghláin) and my Grandma’s maiden name was Curley which is a Gaelic Irish name. Actually, her Mother was Fanny Curley which conjures up a wholly different image altogether. Born in to poverty and second class citizenship, both made good careers for themselves.

Grandma was a highly respected seamstress and tailor. Grandad started as a Cabinet Maker/French Polisher but with huge effort and enthusiasm taught himself the antique business and he became really adept in his own business of buying up old antiques, restoring and selling them at a big profit. There’s a bit of the Irish Tinker in there somewhere but, when he retired from London to our Midlands village, he would march round in his bowler hat, city coat and silk scarf as if he was still in the city. Like me, living in the past.

People of my age were brought up with a news backdrop of ‘The Troubles’. Effectively the war being waged by the IRA was on what they saw were the occupying forces of oppression – the English. Not many bother to understand the origins of all this. I wasn’t completely clear myself until I started reading and I have enjoyed watching some dramatisations set in it as well.

The 18th Century was known, notably by Thomas Paine, as the Age of Reason and it came to an end rather abruptly with the onset of revolution. The French Revolution (1789-99) put the skids under the established order all round the world. The 1798 Rebellion in Ireland can be traced to the setting up of the Society of United Irishmen in Belfast, preparing to throw off the yoke of their foreign occupiers. Its aim was to remove English control from Irish affairs. Their bloody rebellion of 1798, however, resulted in the 1801 Act of Union, which brought Ireland tighter still under British control.

The treatment of the Irish was unjustifiable and brutal. As the two dramas featured above make clear, the Irish had little choice and were totally justified in their fight back during the post WW1 Irish War of Independence. They won an uneasy partition which still holds but can never hold until the whole of the island of Ireland is one. It has always seemed so obvious to me although I hadn’t bothered to research the background.

I cry at the drop of a hat and I’ve never been too proud to admit it. It is usually for other’s pain rather than my own. I have spent three or so hours exercising in the gym while watching these dramas play out and weeping copiously. It is not a pretty sight watching an old man on a jogging machine running with tears filling his eyes.. It is so hard to believe that human beings can do such unspeakable things to their fellow man. If you watch no other film in life, Ken Loach’s award winning film: The Wind that shakes the Barley is a must. If you have a strong stomach for fortitude and tragedy, the mini-series Rebellion on Netflix since 2016 honours the 100th anniversary of the start of the Easter Uprising in 1916.

It was tantamount to treason to express support for the IRA during the early part of my life. The establishment would brook no idea of it as the border violence continued and the UK mainland was bombed. The history was immaterial. It took Tony Blair and Mo Mowlam to change this view and just last week, Roy Greenslade, former editor of the Daily Mirror, has revealed that he was an active supporter of the cause but couldn’t reveal it because he would lose his job. This week and because of his revelation, he lost his job. Plus ca change plus c’est la meme chose.

Wednesday, 3rd March, 2021

A pleasant, mild if slightly greyer morning. Even so, the world seems to be announcing a move forward. All around us here, the trees, bushes, woodland banks are budding, shooting, displaying Spring flowers and resounding to the gorgeous sound of birdsong.

I  have written about this before so regular readers will know that I love post landing on the mat. I am rather like an overenthusiastic puppy who hears the stimulus sound and bounds to be first to get it. Actually, over the years, my wife has learnt not to interfere. She leaves me to collect and open all post. I even love ‘junk’ mail but, recently, it has become far too targeted for comfort.

I will be 70 in just under 5 weeks time. Age has never really worried me in the past. I haven’t had a wish to go back and be younger. I don’t fear death. Pauline refuses to even acknowledge it. She asserts that she will never die. Both our fathers died at 49 and the genetics did concern me but reaching 50 allayed that concern. However, we both realise that the impending landmark of 70 is significant. For me, although I am reasonably fit and healthy, it is suddenly starting to feel a little bit like time is running out. There are so many things I want to do but time is running out and Covid & Brexit are, in part, stopping me doing them.

I am Type 2 diabetic although in complete remission and have atrial fibrillation which makes me a bit more susceptible to Covid. For that reason, we have been extremely careful over the past year. We were both very shocked when a lovely neighbour in her 40s pushed a note through the door recently saying she hadn’t seen us for a few days and were we alright; did we need any shopping done?

That lovely gesture from our neighbour absolutely shocked us both. She clearly saw us as old and vulnerable. All my life I have seen the vulnerable as in need of my help. Suddenly, the boot was on the other foot. It made me almost feel vulnerable myself.

That vulnerability seems to be being exploited by the commercial world. I put my life out for all to see and my demographic is available to be exploited. I know I can expect this sort of targeting but it doesn’t fit with who I see in myself. A well know sportsman died this week at the age of 82. My first reaction was, That seems very young. He was involved in sport and fitness. Since my youth, I have not been although the past 12 years of retirement have seen me try to readdress this.

I hope I live to 101 and get to resolve so many of my desires. I have made mistakes across my life that I have been trying to address in retirement. Some have been done and some are still pending. However, I am not yet ready to address my funeral. Actually, I have already told my wife that, when necessary, she can put me out in a bin bag and leave me out for the waste collectors. I will try to die on a Sunday night because Black Bag is collected on Mondays.

Thursday, 4th March, 2021

Grey, mild and overcast day. I’m watching Test cricket from India where the weather is quite different. I usually run this on the TV in the Office while doing other work. And so it is today. My Masters Research Degree is in political history. I like politics, history and research. I have been doing it for years.

The web is so valuable. To find people and explore connections I use Ancestry.com, 192 People Finder and UK Census Online. Actually, the Census is coming round again very soon.

While one side of my family originated in Ireland, the Sanders (son of Alexander) side are rooted in the English Midlands. I was born in Repton, the capital of Murcia. In Anglo Saxon times, Paeda was the first Christian King of Mercia and his son was called Piddock. The surname Piddock was first found in Somerset where they held a family seat from early times and their first records appeared on the early census rolls taken by the early Kings of Britain to determine the rate of taxation of their subjects.

The Piddock Family motto was:

Seigneur, je te prie, garde ma vie / Lord, I beseech thee, save my life.

Putting aside the ‘Lord’ bit, I’m beginning to feel that way myself. It is the age old wish. The difference is that we are more likely to be granted this wish than our ancestors.

I am determined to stay alive and, in the past 8 weeks, I’ve walked/cycled/jogged 310 miles or 499 kms. No wonder I’m tired! Looking forward to my meal of homemade salmon fishcakes and homemade baked beans. And so to dream ….

Friday, 5th March, 2021

Had a text conversation with my skinny, little sister, Liz late last night. I hardly ever use text messaging. I much prefer email where I can write in paragraphs and integrate pictures into the text. It is much more conducive to expressing developed thoughts. However, I’ve been using it a bit more recently and quite enjoyed it. It was certainly lovely of Liz to take the trouble out of her busy schedule running London’s Health Service.

I phoned my very old sister, Ruth, this morning. Of course, she is never in when I phone but I spoke at some length to her lovely husband, Kevan. We don’t speak often but, for someone so much older than me, he is extremely understanding and easy to talk to. My motive was to discuss the fact that I had just received an invite to their wedding – on July 1st, 1972. Even he was a bit surprised.

I’ve had a wonderful, difficult, lovely, painful contact from an old friend in the past couple of weeks. It has evoked so many memories of when we were so much younger. I have always been obsessed with the passage of time and the inevitability of events. In the past few days, these obsessions have melded together. I knew this moment would come.

My friend has very kindly sent me a stash of memorabilia which is almost uncomfortable to look at. The passage of time really is a terrible thing. All those hopes and dreams dashed, unfulfilled. In those days, I was going to be a world-renowned poet, a widely published novelist, a genius of letters revered by all. I became a teacher in Oldham. Obscurity incarnate!

I must admit, I’d forgotten how gorgeous and precocious I was back in the early 1970s. How dreams can be dashed and yet we make new lives for ourselves and move forward. 

My wife and I have done challenging and exciting things in life – things I could not have anticipated. We have done interesting jobs in Education. We have bought and sold lots of lovely properties including buying a field, designing and building a house on a Greek island. We have driven around Europe together until it is almost second nature and we have moved, gradually from North to South of the UK in the process. 

We have weathered some incredibly hard times together. In the early 1980s, we had a near fatal car crash which saw us hospitalised and me as close to dead as a living man can be. We had to fight enormous professional pressures from threats to Pauline’s career to attacks on our health and welfare. We have survived all that and, in spite of scarring, carried on.

However, I have always lived with a weight deep inside me. (I’ve carried a weight round my middle but that’s another matter.) It is the weight of responsibility that I can never and do not want to shirk. I will never resile from it. There are significant people in my life who are owed so much more than they will ever know. I have spent my retirement attempting to at least acknowledge that debt. If any of them are reading this now and I know some are, I acknowledge it again now. That debt will always honoured if never fully repaid. 

Saturday, 6th March, 2021

Wonderful sunny and warm day. Sounds like it has been the same across the country. Before our 5 mile walk, however, the highlight was a haircut for me. When I was the age illustrated in yesterday’s Blog, I swore I would never get my haircut. It may have been an instant response to my Mother’s insistence that I had a short back and sides every 6 weeks at home. The local barber was often berated by her for not cutting it short enough. From the age of 40, my father had a bald circle on the top of his head and I swore I would kill myself if it happened to me. I even borrowed a Drama Props Department ginger wig and wore it for my 6 weeks Teaching Practice to avoid cutting my hair.

I don’t want to get even more boring and I have mentioned this before but I haven’t paid for a haircut since September 1969. I have no idea what a haircut costs now. It was 5 shillings for my last one. If I have my haircut about every 6 weeks, it would have been done about 440 times since then. I’ll leave you to work out the savings I’ve made.

In September 1969, I was taken in hand by a new and less experienced hairdresser who did it for me with a razor-comb. That is not a euphemism. I thought the ‘slashed’-look was trendy and it was ‘free’. In my early years of teaching and after my hairdresser had moved on to promotion, I thought I would use the razor-comb myself. How hard could it be?

Sunday evening, bottle of wine, scruffy, dinghy flat, poor lighting, distant mirror, first confident scrape of the razor-comb. Total horror at completely bald patch at the side of my head. Bit of blood. School tomorrow. I had to finish the haircut without too many more disasters. As I walked to school in the morning in my pin-sharp suit, I looked like a total disaster above the ears even though I looked gorgeous below them.

I haven’t had to kill myself although I now enjoy short hair. I’m thinning and lightening but not balding or grey. My wife cuts it expertly every 6 weeks. Symbolically, I sit on my Father’s ‘Richard Chair’ under a hairdresser’s cape for about 40 mins. I’m not the most patient customer and I try to conspire to be watching some interesting discussion programme or sporting event while the operation is performed. At least I lose a bit of weight periodically.

Sunday, 21st February, 2021

A mild but grey morning with temperatures at 13C/55F. The earlier light and warmer temperatures is encouraging and so is the news of our vaccine this morning. We had our first jab on Thursday which should take its full effect by March 11th and expect our second jab by May 12th which should give us the all-clear before June.

I wrote last week of accounts of the Pfizer vaccine showing worrying laboratory test signs of low efficacy against mutant strains of the virus. This morning this has been completely reversed by real life studies. Latest efficacy data from Israeli analysis – real, human data – suggests the following:

I think I’m prepared to live with a 1.1% of dying so we can start to think about travelling again. The Europeans, apparently, are balking at the thought of being given the Oxford-AstraZeneca vaccine because of its rumoured lack of data of its effectiveness against the South African and UK variants. If we are to travel, we will need Europeans to be vaccinated and to be comfortable opening up their borders. We are all in this together …. apart from the Brextremists, of course, who also tend to be Covid-sceptics and certainly can’t see the value in the whole world’s vaccination for the UK people and economy.

We’ve got our 9th Rapid Lateral Flow Antigen Test tomorrow. Another £50.00/€58.00 in our bank account. Something that should really be helping to boost our immune systems to fight infection is exercise. In the past two months since Boxing Day, (effectively 8 weeks) I have missed my exercise target just 4 times. I have walked/run 310 miles/499 km. Quite pleased with that. I’m going to maintain this standard for another month and then, as the weather improves, hope to increase it.

Monday, 22nd February, 2021

This was supposed to be a Spring day. The birds were expecting it. The flowers were assuming it and we were looking forward to it. The gap between aspiration and reality is great. We have, dark, gloomy skies with a maximum temperature of 9C/48F. It doesn’t feel inviting. Consequently, we are stuck inside once again.

I am reading and doing some Ancestry work in the Office. Pauline has gone back to her painting. She will finish the ground floor today. The whole house is pervaded by a faint whiff of paint. Therein lies the problem. I am static, seated. Pauline is active standing and stretching. She is thin. I am fat.

Even so, we had Artichoke & Minted Peas Stew for our Lunch. instead of soup today. This is one of our long standing Greek favourites which we ate on a cold, March day in a warm corner of Simos’ Taverna in Kamares Port. After Lunch, we had a visit from a Covid Tester – A Brexit supporter (spit) – which took about 20 mins.

This was our 9th test and we will have now been paid £450.00/€520.00 between us for the privilege. It really is not inconvenient for us and provides us with reassurance of our current health while paying us into the bargain. What is there to complain about?

Of course, we are thinking more and more about going abroad either on a medium term basis – renting for 2-3 months at a time or buying a small, apartment on a sunny coast in France/Spain. The outlay for renting, particularly in Spain, is incredibly cheap. A villa with private pool, parking, 3 beds, washing & cooking facilities plus internet and satellite television for, say, June & July is only around £6,000.00/€7,000.00. A studio apartment on the Murcian coast can be had for about £75,000.00/ so an equation has to be done. Whatever, this is the way forward for holiday makers who want to avoid too much social contact.

As I suggested long ago, the Greeks are suddenly staring this conundrum in the face. Full of hope and bravado, they wrote off last year’s season and the debts they incurred while talking up the new one this Summer. Suddenly, they are beginning to realise that this season may be even worse. From the website, Sifnaika-Fos, this:

This is the very real danger of putting all your eggs in one basket. I have been warning of this, with relation to Greece’s reliance on the Tourist Industry, for years never even contemplating a pandemic. Now it has arrived and the warnings become reality. Greeks may have to start considering ‘real’ jobs.

Tuesday, 23rd February, 2021

Spring is here. The morning has broken with wonderful light and moved in to strong, warm sunshine. I feel different and more alive.

The past is always with me as a present continuous. It forms the backdrop to the experiences of my days and informs my decision making. I am constantly reviewing past mistakes and regretting. I don’t just do this in my head. I can be heard going, Oh, Oh. out loud or even shed a tear as these incidents replay across my conscientiousness. I have to admit that I thought all people did this but I know I am weird and it may be exclusive to me.

One of the principles of my adult life has been to avoid causing hurt to others but being a rather gauche, insensitive man, I am prone to doing exactly that. Often it is in an attempt to understand myself or exorcise a pain of my own rather than anything else. I suspect that, as I approach 70, I will not now change. However, I do continue to work on my inner self.

I am constantly having to work on my outer self. Since leaving school and playing non-stop sport, I have had a perpetual fight with my weight. Unfortunately, my interests are largely cerebral and have been for the last 50 years of my adult life. This is not conducive to physical fitness or weight control. Although I have been fighting back in retirement, it is a long, almost unwinnable battle particularly as my passions include good food and fine wine. I am a hopeless case, I know.

I’m thinking of employing an editor for the Blog. Re-reading it is embarrassing – for an ex-English teacher. I’ve had a major software update which resulted in the resetting of all my graphics. They have been grossly stretched and I’m having to reset them after review. It takes such a long time. I had the offer of help by a disgruntled reader but it looks like I’m not to get that support after all. I understand. My life is just too boring for them.

Wednesday, 24th February, 2021

To my readers: Nil Desperandum! Things are going to get better. The sun is not out this morning although it is warm and Spring is on its way. It better be. My morning is crammed with desperately important events. So important that I hesitate to list them:

• Strip the bed (me)
• Remake bed (Pauline)
• Freshly squeezed orange juice and tea (Pauline)
• Meet Fish Delivery man – 3Kgs white fish – (me)
• Portion up and freeze fish (Pauline)
• Daily update of Accounts (Pauline)
• Monthly Descale the coffee maker (me)
• Vacuum the house (me)
• Continue ‘touch-up’ painting (Pauline)
• Blog & Watch Cricket – England v India (me)
• Do some searches on Electoral Rolls (me)
• No Lunch (me) / Undecided (Pauline)
• 90 mins workout in the gym (me)
• Long, (3 mins shower) (me)
• One meal of the day (me) (Pauline)

So, as you can see, Dear Readers, our life is packed with the mundanities of everyday living and yet I feel optimistic. The days are getting longer and lighter and I have a lightness in my heart. Things will get better but not, unfortunately, in the cricket because we are 3 wickets down already.

Bit fed up this afternoon. England are all out already. We went for a walk around our local woods. A couple of years ago I took this photo of two rabbits in a field.

This afternoon, after a couple of years of planning applications, this is what’s happening. No sign of the rabbits! 

Things appear and disappear in to the mist so quickly and leave only sadness. Soon it will be too late. However, I remain optimistic. England have two wickets already.

Thursday, 25th February, 2021

It was 11C/52F last night when I went to bed before midnight for a change. Haven’t slept well for two nights. Had dreams about being a bad person. Think I’m having a crisis of confidence. Got up this morning rather diffidently but a switch was suddenly turned on and the world looked brighter. It must be the cricket. India have lost 8 wickets.

I have written before that Pauline & I are completing the Kings College London COVID Symptom Study. Ironically, today it included a long strand about mental health. Have they been watching me remotely? I only did the survey as an anxiety displacement activity. Some do surveys. I was amused to read that a classic technique is planning redecorating and, particularly, wallpapering. It represents papering over the cracks which is really only a temporary answer.

We had a 19th Century Coaching House over 40 years ago and went big on wallpaper in keeping with its age. William Morris design from Osborne & Little featured highly. After that, we had a large house which looked more like an art gallery because I went mad for hanging huge, Pre-Raphaelite pictures on the walls. It was in keeping with my Masters degree study of the resurgence of Medievalism in the 19th Century

As we grew older and more widely travelled, we have turned to a much more minimalist approach. The white walls of the Cycladic style are really very restful. Maybe stark in some eyes.

Of course, papering over the cracks is not a possibility. You can turn to whitewash, though. We re-painted this huge building almost every summer. Instead of a cheap, Greek solution, we went upmarket with a plastic coating. It shone out against the blue Mediterranean sky and almost blinded the locals.

Well, England lost the cricket in just two of the five allocated days but we need to search for positives and I can see some. We did a long walk and I followed that with time in the gym so I’m feeling tired but much more optimistic since last night.  Beautiful evening down at the beach this evening. Who couldn’t be optimistic in this scene? Going to bed early. I’m shattered. 

Friday, 26th February, 2021

Up at 6.00 am with renewed optimism. Well, Sainsbury‘s are delivering at 7.00 am. The sun is already up. The sky is crystal clear. Today is going to be a good day. Might go back down to the beach this morning for a mooch on the shoreline. It’s lovely to be out in the sunshine and the fresh, sea air.

We did a 5 mile walk which started on the Marina and took us along the beach path as the tide started crashing in. It is so good to be out here.

There are fewer fishermen these days but there is still a roaring trade for their product. There is a whiff of fish mingling with the sea salt all around as we walk, drinking in the sun’s rays. Could be in the Mediterranean – Marseille? We griddled Tuna steaks in the garden this afternoon. They were ‘sushi-grade’ and absolutely wonderful with Greek salad. Isn’t life fantastic?

Saturday, 27th February, 2021

Snow moon hunters found plenty to photograph down at the beach last night …. apart from a distant moon. The sunsets/seascapes are delicious.

The shoreline provides for both ends of the emotional spectrum – from moving disturbingly to tranquillity and repose. Perhaps we are capable of both at the same time.

Another gorgeous day. Going out for a long walk to drink in the sunshine. Quite a few people have had the same idea.

Fortunately, we got there for around 9.30 am and walked for an hour or so. By the time we were leaving, parking was impossible and the esplanade was full of joggers, bikers, skateboarders, dog walkers, little kids and old codgers, lovers …..

Sunday, 14th February, 2021

What is this Valentine’s rubbish. Every day is one of love-and-gratitude-day in our household. How lucky are we? So many we know no longer have the reassurance of their loved one by their side. It must be scarcely bearable and we feel for them.

At last today the heating can be turned off. We will not fall below 8C/47F over night which is fine. I’ve done my workout for the day. I’ve only missed 3 days in the past 49. When it gets to this stage, it is harder not to do it than to do it. To see my stats with a blemish hurts more than the exercise itself.

We received our Covid jab invitations yesterday. We probably won’t take them up. It is a national letter and the nearest place is in the centre of Brighton about 20 miles/32 km away. Our local one will be in the Community Centre about 10 mins walk away from our house. We will probably wait for that.

I’ve spent the main part of the morning working on our email/address book clients. We use Windows 10 Mail cloud client alongside Outlook mail client. Each have an integrated but separate address books. On our iPads, we use the Apple mail + address book client and, on our smartphones, we use Gmail +address book email client. I have organised the emails to synchronise across different platforms but the address books are a nightmare and the calendars are even worse. I’ve resorted to doing these manually. Still, I’ve got so much slack time at the moment that it doesn’t really matter.

Monday, 15th February, 2021

A damp, mild start that turned in to a grey, mild day. Actually, ‘mild’ is only a relative term. It has been 9C/48F and the breeze makes it feel cooler. We walked down to the Pharmacy attached to our Surgery to collect our repeat prescriptions. The round-trip walk takes about 70 mins and we wouldn’t have even considered it 12 months ago. Now, it doesn’t even occur to us to drive. If the weather’s alright, we walk. Wonderful, homemade Chicken & Sweetcorn soup for Lunch and then some Office work before a session in the Gym.

I am loving using my new computer and I’m organising all my data sets in the cloud. Following that process this morning, the photograph above popped up and took me back to those exciting times 41 years ago on the Pennines. This is the first Christmas cake Pauline made for us and she has made at least one every year since.

I wrote only recently about not being a fan of fiction and it has been true all my life. This pandemic and the restrictions has helped to show me what can be gleaned from good drama. Particularly as national and international sport was restricted in the first half of the year and the empty stadium sport so lacking in atmosphere in the second half, we have searched for alternative forms of entertainment. We subscribed to Sky Cinema and to Netflix and found a wealth of compromises.

The compromise started off as dramas based on actual events. I have really enjoyed Thrillers connected to historical events. For example, Red Joan which is based on the Cambridge graduate of the late 1930s – a Fellow Traveller as they became known – who fed the USSSR with vital information which hastened the pace at which the Soviets developed nuclear bomb technology. Judy dench plays the eponymous Joan and I am comforted in knowing that much of this actually happened.

Recently, this leap of credibility has allowed me to move on to a psychological thriller set in Ireland on the North – South border. The geographical mood music feels right. The psychological tightness of border tensions appears accurate. That drew me in. having watched 2 Series each of 6 episodes, I feel rather committed but I have a hankering suspicion that the plot has spun nonsensically out of control. Although it seems a bit pointless going on, I find myself saying, Well you’ve come this far. This is the essence of my problem with Fiction.

Tuesday, 16th February, 2021

We have found Covid-19 Vaccinations slots at the Chichester Centre which we can attend together and provisionally booked both 1st and 2nd jabs there. If our own Surgery comes in with a booking before we go then we will cancel the Chichester one. Jab-1 is on February 26th and Jab-2 on May 14th exactly 11 weeks later.

We decided to go and look at the Centre to get out of the house and give our car a much needed run. As soon as I put the post code in, I thought we were going abroad. The Centre is on Via Ravenna which is located off Avenue de Chartres. We only deal in cosmopolitan culture down here.

I was amused to see a shop on Sifnos being offered for rent. It was fairly new when we were there and we used it to create our House Sale sign. This was almost 8 years ago now. Unbelievable!

The shop is attached to a grubby little 2* hotel in Kamares. It was quite impressively kitted out for digital Sign Writing and we were one of its early customers. We were so pleased with their work which attracted lots of attention.

Addendum: By chance this afternoon, we became aware of a message from a local person saying that we could book our Covid test at our local Community Centre. The GP website didn’t say we could and their recorded message didn’t say we could. We phoned and booked our jabs for two days time. We learnt that this government is trying to dissuade the public from being jabbed by GPs but pushing them to attend distant, mass vaccination centres instead. Centralised control continues. We now have vaccinations booked in two areas although our local one is much earlier so we will cancel the other but not until the first is successfully completed.

Wednesday, 17th February, 2021

Woke up late today and stayed in bed listening to R4 Today until 7.50 am! Wednesday has added routines for me. Apart from shaving and cleaning my teeth (recharged my tooth brush last night and nearly lost my teeth this morning!), Wednesday is bedlinen changing. My job is to strip the bed and take the linen down to the Utility Room. Pauline is expert in using the washing machine so she puts the white things on to wash. I would almost certainly shrink and re-dye them given a chance. Pauline remakes the bed because I hate doing it. This is how division of labour works in our house.

I forgot to mention. I haven’t got dressed yet. Having stripped the bed stark naked (me & the bed), I go into the dressing room. Having got dressed, I open the blinds and look out on to the back garden. Everything looks fine …. apart from a demented little blob of fur going frantically round and round on the spot on our patio. It is chasing its tail. When I get downstairs and onto the patio, I realise that it is a tiny, Field Mouse. It has obviously been using the plant pots for cover and come out to enjoy the warmer morning and some sunshine.

While we are enjoying warmer weather, Greece is suffering snow – quite heavy snow. Sifnos island has been covered with dramatically heavy snow. Athens has a heavy blanket of snow. As they say, views of the Acropolis surrounded by thick snow are quite rare and some are considering skiing down the side. I, for one, would love to see it.

Vaccinations tomorrow morning. If there’s no Blog tomorrow night, send flowers.

Thursday, 18th February, 2021

On the morning we prepare for our first Covid-19 vaccination, this appears in the news headlines:

The dilemma is immediately obvious. What confidence can one have in returning to normal life after effectively sheltering for a year? Wanting to believe something is effective does not bring that about. What would it be like to sacrifice a year of one’s life to succumb when one least expects it?

No guesses which vaccine we had today. We were at our local Community Hall with rows of chairs spaced out for customers to wait. We were wearing double masks and visor but I felt more vulnerable there than I have anywhere for quite a while. I haven’t been in a closed environment with so many people for almost 12 months. Very efficiently run, we were in and out in about 30 mins including having to wait for 15 mins afterwards to see if the jab had killed us.

We felt comparatively alive as we went home for coffee. I should be alright to do my gym routine later. I’m looking forward to continuing a film I am watching on Netflix called Rebellion which honours the 100th anniversary of the start of the Easter Uprising in 1916, a defining moment in Irish and British history. It is not the best dramatisation I have seen – a bit sanitised and light weight but it does remind one of the sacrifices the Irish have been prepared to make to throw off the yoke of British Imperialism. What none of them could have conceived of is that Membership of the European Union and a foolhardy Brexit is the most likely avenue to delivering a United Ireland.

After all that bloodshed and colonial stiff upper lip, to subjugate a people who were entitled to self determination and who will almost certainly get it by the unthinking hand of British, right wing extremists. How ironic!

Friday, 19th February, 2021

Incredible how light it was at 6.00 am as we got up for our Sainsbury’s delivery. The Spring is creeping up on us. Snowdrops and Daffodils are starting to decorate the landscape. The Summer is coming! Unfortunately, as time marches on, so do we. I have to wish my brother, Bob, a very happy 69th birthday today.

We last shared a bedroom 52 years ago although, perhaps, I shouldn’t talk about it. He certainly seems happy and contented with his life and what else can one ask for? We wish him another 69 years of happiness.

We nipped down to the beach for a few minutes of bracing sea air and it certainly was ‘bracing’. The official temperature at 9.30 am was 8C/46F but the wind chill effect of the sea breeze almost took our breath away.

It was nice to see (from a distance)a crocodile of little kids enjoying the beach. There were even a couple of people in the sea wind surfing fearlessly. You certainly wouldn’t catch me doing it.

Saturday, 20th February, 2021

In Retirement, Saturdays are always difficult days. After that Friday Night Feeling was satisfied by a Chinese Takeaway and a bottle – sometimes two – of wine followed by a complete ‘slump’ at the end of a hard week’s work, we would have been up at the crack of dawn to make the most of our ‘day off’. Usually there were so many jobs to fit in that couldn’t be done during the week. We were always some of the first shoppers in to Sainsbury‘s and home for coffee. Then the house jobs of cleaning, washing, ironing, gardening, car cleaning had to be done. Sunday was papers and politics before school work and other preparation for another hard week ahead.

I still quite often get up and think, I don’t have to go to work; I still dream sometimes of walking the school corridors and hearing the teacher-class hum. Even after 12 years away, I still wake up in a blind sweat occasionally worrying that I haven’t done everything needed for my new day. The Friday Feeling is long gone, Sunday preparations are no longer required and Saturday has lost its impetus. Nothing has to be done. We have all the time in the world to get jobs done.

It will be 12 years in the first week of April since we retired and it will be 5 years in the first week of April since we moved in to our new home. We are now responsible for its complete upkeep. We try to set high standards for ourselves in maintenance of our properties. Cleanliness, tidiness and presentation are important. Fortunately, Pauline loves DIY and, particularly, decorating. We have toured every inch of the house together with clipboard and pen, noting every scratch, chip, smudge, which needs attention. Pauline has done all the repairs, repaints of the walls and is just completing the same with the woodwork.

I used to feel embarrassed about my lack of contribution but, after 43 years of marriage, we have come to the agreement that it is best left to Pauline. I have spent my day exercising, watching football and reading some historical background to the formation of the Irish Republican Army.

I have been transported back to my youth in the 1960s – 70s and how Sinn Féin IRA were spoken of as murderous criminals. It took quite a while before I realised the injustice of that position. I have long believed and supported the concept of a United Ireland. It was a major move forward to see a former IRA Leader and Sinn Féin politician as Deputy First Minister of Northern Ireland but it is even better to see the complete failure of the DUP to defend the Union through Brexit.

Sunday, 7th February, 2021

We went down to 3C/37F and this morning had started with some sunshine. I wanted to show you what happened last Friday after we had been to walk in the sea mist. Almost as soon as we left, the sun came out and a phenomenon apparently called a fogbow appeared. Had to rely on someone else’s photo for this.

This was the scene yesterday evening on the same beach. I missed this too and have stolen someone else’s photo. We’ve said for a long time that we must make the effort to get down to the beach for sundown. We’re going to have to stop being lazy.

This morning, I’ve been watching the Test match from India where the temperature was a delicious 30C/86F and then Tottenham v West Brom. where the temperatures were sub-zero and they had light snow falling. It is now 2.00 pm and we have had a bit of sleet and the temperature has fallen from 3C to 2C/36F. I’m going to brave walking across the patio to the gym to do my exercise while watching Wolves v Leicester. I will be well and truly footballed out by the end of the day after Liverpool v Man. City and then Sheffield v Chelsea. Need to get a life!

Monday, 8th February, 2021

We woke up to find an embroidery of snow on the pavements. We were making an early walk down to the Post Office in the village with a clothing ‘return’. We seem to do this a lot. 

The walk took us about 70 mins round trip and was bitterly cold. The temperature was -1C/30F with a biting breeze. The sky looks rather forbidding. If we were in Yorkshire, we would be predicting heavy snow. We walked past a children’s playground where Mothers and toddlers were desperately trying to scrape up something approximating snow to make their first ever snowball.

As we walked, we reflected on that. Years of annual snowfalls, roads closed, schools closed, etc. have made us fairly blasé about the concept of snow – even anti. To think, for these young children on the south coast, this is the first ever experience of snow. It makes us feel, suddenly, very old. We go on through our days feeling the same as we have for years and then something like this pulls us up short. I am old. There are very few things that I will experience for the first time in my life. Well, there is death but then it will be all too late. I will never experience the wonder of my first snow ever again.

At least the cricket is going well. It’s even kicked politics off the early morning screens. I’m really enjoying watching a hot, Indian day being decorated by some excellent Test teams.

Tuesday, 9th February, 2021

Up at 6.00 am. Still -1C/30F outside but we’ve managed to avoid the snow we were fearing. Sainsbury’s delivery by 7.00 am. Before that, Pauline books the next one. New slots are released at midnight but 6.00 am is early enough to get a ‘free’ early delivery slot. We don’t pay anything for our deliveries in this way.

What a wonderful time of day 6.00 am is! Especially when you are watching the cricket while enjoying a huge cup of Yorkshire tea.

India are the No.1 team in the world at the moment and England have beaten them comprehensively on their home soil in the first Test Match. It was a joy to watch.

In spite of the cold, we are going out for a walk. It’s good to see the daylight and feel the fresh air in our faces. I was noticing the uncertain messages in Greek newspapers this week. They report that

Amid fears of new variants of the coronavirus, new restrictions on movement have hit just as people were starting to look ahead to what is usually a busy time of year for travel.

Kathimerini – 8/2/2021

Already, face masks are mandatory in the street. Can you imagine hot sun and face masks? Greece has increased its restrictions on travellers this week including enforced vaccinations and quarantine which adds to this climate of difficulty. The Greek Hotel industry is badly suffering and is central to the economy. They are demanding government support to just survive. 

Wednesday, 10th February, 2021

Up at a reasonable time – 7.00 am – and, although the outside temperature is 0C/32F, their was no ice or frost to be seen. By mid day, the temperature outside has soared to 2C/36F and the sun is shining. We were up early because we had an Asda Click & Collect at 8.00 am.

A week ago, I wrote that our neighbours across the road had put their property up for sale. Exactly a week later, a sold sign has gone up. The speed of sale is both surprising and encouraging. The price is even more encouraging. When we bought and sold in Surrey, our property almost doubled its value in 5 years. Down here, even in the midst of a pandemic, our neighbours’ house has provided a profit of £125,000 in just 5 years and, like ours, it is a new-build which are notorious for normally losing some value in the early stages.

I have been highly amused and infuriated in equal measures by an interview Kate Hoey did with Sky News where she bemoaned the Brexit Agreement for punishing Northern Ireland’s trade. Imagine having the chutzpah of having created this situation, promoted it, ignored the Remain vote of Northern Ireland, and then making this statement. She also blames Southern Ireland for colluding with the EU – completely ignoring the fact that Southern Ireland is the EU. Brexit chickens are really coming home to roost!

I’m off out to the gym now to suffer in every way. The exercise still hurts but I watch television to distract me a bit. Unfortunately, I am currently watching a film called The Photographer of Mauthausen which is based on real events; a photographer tries to save evidence of the horrors committed inside the walls of a Nazi concentration camp in Mauthausen.

It is horrifying and fascinating but it is not easy watching. Sometimes, I am willing myself to get to the end of my exercise just to have a rest from the misery. It is so hard to believe that humans can do such things to humans but then we must remember that this Tory government is still prepared to trade on with a Chinese nation who are persecuting the Uighur people with an inhumanity that closely parallels the Holocaust. 

Thursday, 11th February, 2021

We were up so late this morning that it felt like tomorrow. To get up at 8.00 am is almost unheard of but we weren’t in bed until 1.00 am so feel almost feel justified. The temperature went down to -2/28F last night but has heated up massively to 1C/34F and we are going out for a walk on the beach or, probably a swim because it is High Tide at 11.00 am today.

Actually, we didn’t stay long on the beach. Within a few minutes of getting there, we couldn’t feel our faces. Even so, there were quite a few people around, walking on the beach and along the shoreline path. They would do well in the North.

A former fellow student who now lives on the Cumbrian coast posted this photo of his garden this morning after a night at -15C/5F. Why would you want to live there? Think of the heating bills.

After 40 years living on the Pennines with all the wet, cold and difficult weather that brings, I was genuinely concerned about leaving. I longed to see dry stone walls and heather-covered moors after those views being the daily wallpaper of our working lives. I noticed my brother, Bob – former Antarctic Explorer – longs for snow in sunny Berkshire. He really needs to move to Yorkshire. His skills would really come in to action.

We experienced these conditions just getting to work most winters. We took our lives into our hands just going out to school. In fact, Britain has not experienced such a cold spell for 11 years which is when we last lived in the North of England. There are better ways to spend one’s time than being dragged out of snow drifts by tractors. Now I’m going to brave the 2C/36F in the back garden to go out to the gym which is snugly heated by a radiator. While I’m working out, I’ll be watching a barely credible film of Jews suffering sub zero temperatures with little clothing and even less food in the prison camp of Mauthausen.

Friday, 12th February, 2021

Up at 6.00 am and -1C/30F to welcome the Sainsbury‘s delivery man. Major problem this morning – No Medjool dates!

Along with bananas, Medjool dates are our go-to snack for quick calories. They are healthy but provide a quick hit of energy. If you haven’t tried them, you should. They are like, soft, gooey toffees but are full of nutrients and antioxidants. There are lots of dates but best are Medjool.

Turned in to a lovely, sunny morning but feels raw at just 1C/34F. Pauline’s cooking but we might find space to walk on the beach later.

This was yesterday. It might be a little more inviting today. At least there is still no snow. Five years ago, we were living in P&C’s attic and preparing to make the move down to West Sussex. Only 5 years but it all seems so far away.

I have to apologise for missing Albert, Kevan’s birthday yesterday. It was very remiss of me. My calendar should have reminded me but failed to do so. Yesterday, my brother-in-law, A.K. Butcher was 78 and it should be marked. I hope he had a happy day. I certainly hope I get to that great age.

Saturday, 13th February, 2021

It has been cold again overnight at -2/28F. What it has meant is that the gym has had to be heated all day and all night for the best part of a week.

The gym equipment is controlled by sensitive computer circuits which don’t respond well to low temperatures. Along with the television and Sky-Q box, they amount to about £6,000.00/€6,900.00 worth of equipment and then add to that about £5,000.00/€5,800 of wine to keep in reasonable condition and heating was the only, sensible answer. We installed from the outset a vertical, ‘ladder’, oil-filled radiator which isn’t too expensive to run but can be left on continuously and provides a background heat. Of course, the garage isn’t as well insulated as the house and we may well address that this summer. A small outlay then could pay off in the long run.

This is the coldest Winter for a decade apparently so this may not be a continual problem. Certainly, we haven’t had it as bad down here on the South Coast as many other places. No snow, little frost and moderate temperatures all help.

Sunday, 31st January, 2021

For years we have bought cod and salmon from the wet fish counter at Tesco or Sainsbury‘s. Since the pandemic and wet fish counters have closed, we switched to a local company who we thought only supplied trade with local fish. The result has been quite a revelation. The fish is delivered to our door for ‘free’ in boxes of ice, the price is just as good and the quality is just unbelievably better. Yesterday, we had roast salmon and the difference of quality and taste is so marked that it is hard to believe. Of course, our new suppliers have been formerly supplying high end, London restaurants which are currently closed. Even so, we think they have been shocked by the local, domestic demand and are unlikely to turn away from it when things get back nearer to normal conditions.

Quite a cool night. We got down to 2C/36F and it is only 4C/39F at 8.00 am with grey, monotone sky. Once again, we are not going out. My job today is cleaning the gym before using it for exercise. Pauline is preparing roast chicken for our meal.

We received a letter from the ONS to tell us that our latest Covi-19 test was negative. That is now our 8th negative test result since we began in early October. We have each received £250.00 for this so far. It will continue long after we’ve been vaccinated which is nice.

We have been faithfully completing the Covid Symptom Tracker every day since the end of May. Run by Professor Tim Spector at King’s College London, it has consistently had at least 4.5 million daily contributors and allows the study to track the infectious symptoms across time and across the country. It tells us how our own, small region is doing on a weekly basis. Currently, infection rates are low and stable. Even so, only a vaccination will coax us out into the light of the real world.

Today I begin my 6th week without alcohol. For an addictive personality like mine, this means it will be harder to open a bottle of wine than to not. It will be hard to give up sparkling water and switch to red wine. I’m addicted to the pattern of my life not the substance.

Monday, 1st February, 2021

New month again. New February. I would like to wish you a happy, optimistic one but I’m afraid we all have to remain in the Holding Lounge for quite some time to come. January has been the coldest across UK for 10 years. Let’s hope we have a tropical February. It is as likely as Tories caring for the poor.

Almost a year has disappeared since we knew ‘normal’ life. This time last year, I was more concerned about securing virus software for my computer than worrying about a virus spreading across the globe. Yes, I was aware of it. Yes, I was talking about obtaining and wearing masks even before the Tory government denied their viability but I was also talking about the fact that we had booked 6 flights and 3 holiday stays but the first wasn’t until May so it should be alright. Within a couple of weeks, the doubts were flooding my mind and I was beginning to consider how to retrench and recoup.

Fortunately, the Tories knew just how to deal with the spread of virus. Go back to the Office and to the School encouraged the population to congregate in Workplaces and Classrooms having travelled on crowded public transport spreading infection as they went. Eat out to help Out encouraged millions to congregate in restaurants and exchange infection. Have a merry Little Christmas encouraged millions to visit family members to exchange presents and infection. The Tories definitely put their arms around the population and did everything they could to spread the Virus.

As Brexit narrows our options, increases our isolation and decreases our choices, the pandemic’s effect is magnified. Hope is currently in short supply.

Tuesday, 2nd February, 2021

We are a bit tired this morning. We were not in bed until 12.30 am and were up at 6.00 am. By 7.00 am, the Sainsbury‘s delivery had been made and we were completing our breakfast drinks. Pauline is making the latest batch of Chicken Stock out in the garden to avoid that strong smell permeating the kitchen and the extraction system.

We are very disappointed that our neighbours across the road have put their house on the market. As their son has moved on they think their property with 5 bedrooms and a double garage is too big for them. They are both in their 80s and have decided that upkeep will rapidly become too much so are looking to downsize. They are nice people and we will be sorry to see them go.

These are strange days of overcast gloom punctuated by brief periods of light. It is shocking how the weather alters our days. We have been enjoying ‘breaking out’ with walks by the sea but have felt rather confined of late by cold, damp days. We used to live in Woking which is being featured on the media because it is one of the sites of a new, Covid variant originating in South Africa. Mass testing and strict controls are descending on the Woking residents and we are grateful not to be involved in that.

Somewhere else we are glad to have left behind is pictured above. For 40 years, Pauline & I made the journey down the M62 across the Pennines at 7.00 am from Yorkshire to Lancashire and back in the evening. Barely a winter went by without heavy snow problems. On this day in 2009, I was recording heavy snow falling and we were closing the school for 2 days. Fortunately today, most teachers can look out of their windows on to a snowy scene and not have to take their life into their hands as we often had to do. There were times we had to be towed off snow drifts; I almost died of exposure on Standedge Moor trying to dig us out of a drift; we were hit by ‘white outs’ and drifted helplessly on sheet ice. I never want to see those days again.

At 3.00 pm, we have sunshine and 12C/54F which will do for now. Currently, I am researching 3 month, Summer Lets on the French/Spanish border around Perpignan and Girona which we might drive to when we are fully vaccinated. You’ve got to live in hope haven’t you?

Wednesday, 3rd February, 2021

Up at 6.30 am and out to Asda for 8.00 am for a Click&Collect. It is not a pleasant morning having rained heavily in the night. It is still gloomy, raining lightly and the roadsides have lots of puddled water. It’s quickly brought out to us when we park outside the store and we are home within 20 mins. The process has been seamless and untroubled other than by the R4 Today programme I am listening to.

Tory after Tory is lining up today – (They have been most reluctant to appear for months.) – to tell us how much they admired Captain Tom Moore who has died. Of course, it would be churlish not to admire an old man struggling to keep purpose in his life, to maintain relevance and, particularly, a centenarian. My Mother-in-Law fought every way to the age of 96 before events overtook her and I found it admirable. What is worrying and why I find it so hard to join in the ‘Captain Marvel’ – ‘Hero of Our Time’ eulogies is the appropriation by the Right of these qualities. The simple ‘Old man shows optimistic spirit.‘ view is absorbed into a Nationalism that speaks to the Right-Wing cause and quickly spills into ugly jingoism.

This is the reason Tories are so keen to pop their heads over the parapet (to borrow a colonial/militaristic metaphor) this morning and to claim this old man and his exploits for themselves. Pictures of Captain Tom wearing his wartime medals are everywhere. The desire to paint him as the embodiment of British, wartime spirit, of stiff upper lip and a never-say-die attitude feeds the frenzy of nationalism engendered by the Tory Right and Brexit.

This morning, Tim Stanley – a Telegraph journalist and Roman Catholic convert – was presenting the Thought for the Day slot on R4 Today. His theme was the wartime and religious fantasy, ‘We’ll meet again’. We won’t and the majority of citizens know it if you question their religious beliefs but it suits the Nationalist, Royalist, British Exceptionalism that has been encouraged through Brexit. It chimes with the Robert Browning lines:

God’s in his heaven—
All’s right with the world!

It also recalls for Tories the All Things Bright and Beautiful description of the world:

The rich man in his castle,
The poor man at his gate,
God made them, high and lowly,
And ordered their estate.

It encourages us to accept our position in life. The Monarchy is not elected but Anointed by God. They rule with Divine Right which is unchallengeable. In the same way, the social structure of rich man/poor man ‘The Lord God made them all.’ is not to be challenged. You must suffer the things your station in life brings upon you but there will, if you show fortitude and courage, be jam tomorrow.

If this was the mantra of some narrow, political sect as it was for many years after Thatcher, then we would have little reason to worry. Now, the Brexit debate has brought the ugly, national exceptionalism out of the shadows and into the mainstream light. The Labour Party have gleaned from their focus groups that working class Labour voters and particularly those in the Northern seats, want to see this simple patriotism embodied in their politicians. The Labour Party wants to increase its market share and will, inevitably, tack to the Right. In doing so, many of us will be left behind and look for another home. Panic Alert: I may have to vote Green! Jane BG will not stop laughing.

Anyway, home made fish cakes for tea. That will make a nice change from spam fritters and tinned pilchards now rationing is coming back!

Thursday, 4th February, 2021

The Daily Telegraph and The Times were the newspapers of my family home. Conservatism was the dominant political leaning. I was a teenager of the rebellious 1960s. I remember wistfully observing to my Mother that the disparity between different classes wasn’t fair. Her immediate response was, Life isn’t fair. My mental note said, We must do something about this! I have followed a left-leaning, Tertiary education particularly in my Master’s research. Here I learnt to apply Dialectical Materialism, a philosophy of Science, History, and Nature developed in Europe and based on the writings of Marx and Engels. Marxist dialectics emphasizes the importance of real-world conditions, in terms of class, labour, and socio-economic interactions.

Right-wing populism, the leitmotiv of contemporary politics, has been on the rise over the past decade. Trump in America, Modi in India, Bolsonaro in Brazil, Kaczyński in Poland and Get-Brexit-Done-Johnson in UK have all been swimming in this populist tide. The election of Biden is a sign that things may be changing but we have a long way to go. Will I see it in my lifetime? I must admit to some doubts.

I was brought up in a large, matriarchal, Roman Catholic family. I was forced to attend Sunday Mass and forced to appear to be a Believer. Of course, the former was possible until I left home. The latter was merely superficial compliance. I couldn’t wait to leave home and this was one of the drivers. My wife was never subject to this control and, as she grew up, visited several different religious services just to understand them for herself. She rejected religion from an intelligent response to her own investigation. I rejected it largely as a juvenile rejection of authority. You can tell which is the more adult response.

I have spent the whole of my adult life openly opposed to religions of all faiths but Catholicism in particular. The national and international trend away from formal religion is extremely heartening. The Spectator this morning has a piece by a member of the Church of England bemoaning the pandemic’s effect on the Church in speeding up its decline. For years we have been pleased to read of declines in church attendance. Covid-19 has done more for this cause than any of us could have hoped. In essence, a falling attendance has been reinforced by church closures and the church management predict many not returning after the pandemic is over. They are closing churches, sacking staff and urging On-line Giving just to finance and maintain a reducing structure.

 ...  I wonder who
Will be the last, the very last, to seek
This place for what it was; one of the crew
That tap and jot and know what rood-lofts were?
Some ruin-bibber, randy for antique,
Or Christmas-addict, counting on a whiff
Of gown-and-bands and organ-pipes and myrrh?

Philip Larkin - The Less Deceived (1955)

Philip Larkin prefigured this development 65 years ago in his poem, Church Going where he described the dying away of church communities leaving the structures to the architectural scroungers. After 40 years of persuading kids that religion was fantasy and that their real poverty was not inevitable, Covid-19 may have ridden to my aid.

Friday, 5th February, 2021

Up at 6.00 am on a mild but misty morning. Sainsburys arrived by 6.30 am and the excitement for the day was over. After coffee we decided we needed to get out. Pauline had to take a parcel return down to the Post Office in the village so we just carried on to the Marina after that.

Of course, we were there about an hour too soon. People were greeting each other in an atmosphere of 1950s London. They used to called it a pea-souper in Estuary English although it wasn’t quite that thick.

We didn’t walk for long. We had no one to meet. A quick breeze around the Marina Walk and then back home for coffee. Like magic, almost as we sat down at home the mist lifted, the sky turned the most perfect blue and the sun shone strongly.

Pauline is cleaning the Gym which she says has become very grubby although I’d not noticed it. I have been given the job of photographing and documenting all the manholes around our property in preparation for our 5-Year Warranty ending. We have to seek insurance cover and emergency cover for boilers, central heating, burglar alarm, electrical installations, water pipes including waste water.

The problem is we have about 7 or 8 manholes/drain covers and, looking at the site plan, a number of them are not fed exclusively by us. They are on our property so we need to know who is responsible for their maintenance. I know you will be reading this and finding it hard to control your mounting excitement but these are weighty matters. My documentation will be forwarded to the Developers for their adjudication. We know that the first thing insurance policies want to know is clear ‘liability’. You didn’t know I led such a life on the edge did you?

Saturday, 6th February, 2021

Up late today – 7.30 am. For the rest of the day we went round feeling we had missed a whole chunk of the day. Gorgeous, sunny morning with clear, blue skies. It was great to watch a really good England performance in the Test in India while we started the day.

We thought it would be nice to give our eyes a chance to drink the sun’s rays in so we went for a walk.

We were out for about 90 mins and had time to talk to our favourite robin en route. He was singing away at the top of the same bush we see him in each time we go that way. He’s quite a character and I’m sure he sings louder while we are talking to him. We do have to be careful that walkers around us don’t think we are talking to a bush and send for the men in white coats but we feel old enough to get away with it now.

No jobs to do today so, with a longish walk under my belt, I don’t have to do as much in the gym. I have completed my target in terms of food, wine and exercise every day for 6 weeks now so I am allowing myself a relaxing day watching Cricket, Football and Rugby. Pauline says I’m really going to be fit after all that.

We were remarking only this morning that our car had only done 7,300 miles since we bought it 20 months ago. This is quite remarkable. In the past, we would have expected to have covered 20,000 and be thinking about a new one at the 2 year mark. On this basis, the current one could be kept at least 4 years which is longer than we’ve ever kept a new car in our 43 years of marriage. The alternative would be to keep this one even longer and buy an all electric for all the day-to-day short trip driving that we do and use the bigger, Hybrid car for longer journeys and European travel. Worth considering!