23 Days to my HAIRCUT!
I mustn’t allow myself to become complacent. There’s that dangerous impression that the pandemic is on its way out. Already, most “non-essential” shops and businesses are open, subject to new rules relating to covid-19. Annoyingly, that doesn’t include hairdressers!
As last week’s glorious weather drew to a close, it would seem the world put two fingers up to social distancing, flocking to Britain’s beaches or to various protest rallies. Boris (our much revered prime minister) is determined to put his name to a rapid return to reviving the economy, thus taking the credit for everybody else’s endeavours. One of his ministers, a fellow called (inappropriately) Cleverly, at a January edition of BBC’s “Question Time” which came from Buxton, took credit for the introduction of new trains on Northern Rail months after they were already in service. My meagre intelligence was insulted! I had watched this edition of Q.T. on You Tube while exploring its repertoire not so long ago.
Today marks 100 days of U.K. lock-down. Ideally, this should have been marked around two weeks ago, but it easy to criticise. I rang one of my clergy friends to ascertain when the church services may resume. Churches can open again, but not before the laborious procedures of risk assessments have been carried out.
I usually have a bit of a rant about BBC’s Sunday Worship. This Sunday was different, there was no Sunday Worship broadcast this weekend; only Songs of Praise. However, for some reason, I am receiving relays from St. Patrick’s in New York.
Over the weekend, I received a promotional e-mail from my travel insurance company offering a 15% discount on any new plan. Having not received an acknowledgement for any correspondence relating to a modest claim for slight curtailment of my last holiday mainly due to coronavirus, I ignored this communication. My company followed up with a repeat of Saturday’s promotion. So, I attempted to apply for insurance on line, as instructed. This on-line application kept stalling even ‘though I had completed the form. Last night, I managed, after around 15 minutes to get to speak to somebody. I would be contacted this morning at 10 am. The call came through at 09.25. I was interrogated about my current state of health, to the extent that I was required to seek, on my other ‘phone, clarification from my local surgery, details I was unable to answer. Even so, I was to obtain further explanation, but when I contacted the medical Centre a second time, my nurse, who has all my medical details, was not available. My travel insurance company promised to ring me back for the required information which I was able ascertain in the afternoon. Said promised ‘phone call from my travel insurance company did not materialise, and I had thus squandered an afternoon at home awaiting the call. I then remembered why I had decided to make this next “world tour” my last. Travel insurance is a necessary annoyance. Their glossy promotional material gives a kind of “feel-good sense of assurance”, as do their periodic T.V. commercials. Their after-sales service is far less impressive.
I have found time to make further progress with tidying up my house and disposing of stuff no longer required and of no value. And still, I am enjoying these early days of retirement. On Thursday, weather permitting, I shall be exploring the unspoiled countryside of Macclesfield Forest. Hopefully, I will be able to share some nice pictures.
Thanks for reading, David, 00.24hrs, 1st July.
David's Cruise 