Late Saturday evening, 29/8/20.
I suppose it was inevitable that following my afternoon visit to A & E at Stepping Hill after an inexplicable dizzy spell, last Monday, I should feel “off-colour” for a few days. I am almost ok now (Saturday 29th August).
Tuesday 1st September, 16.06hrs
Before I look back over the Bank Holiday weekend, I wish to pay tribute to Auntie Stella, my mother’s youngest sister, who last night, after living to her late nineties, succumbed, to a serious stroke from which recovery was highly unlikely. She was godmother to my sister, Mary. Her husband, Uncle David, was my godfather whom I remember fondly, especially for the famous Half-Crown he pulled out of his pocket for me, when visiting the family in Sale. I always enjoyed childhood/teenage visits to their home in Cookham near Maidenhead. Sadly, Cookham was easier to get to than their new home in Compton Abbas in Dorset. I was therefore very thankful that in 2010, both Uncle David and Auntie Stella travelled to London to attend my 61st birthday lunch at the Clarendon Hotel in Blackheath. Such a family “gathering of the clan” can never happen again, especially with four generations of both sides of my family, as well as friends present.
I had a pleasant surprise on Sunday afternoon. Larry, who lives next door, called to offer me a glass fronted cabinet which otherwise might have been reduced to firewood. It fits perfectly in my hallway, beneath the hall-stand, and has provided valuable shelf space, enough to accommodate objects on display in the lounge which otherwise would have had to be boxed and packed away when the room eventually, would be cleared for decorating. I am extremely pleased!
I remain optimistic that we might enjoy an Indian summer following weeks of lousy “stay-at-home” weather. Last Monday, I took advantage of some welcome fine weather, walking to Town with the intention of continuing home the long way round. Ending up at Stepping Hill Hospital was definitely not on the agenda! Thankfully, by Saturday, I was just about back to normal and Sunday had me waking up in time to catch Radio 4’s Sunday Worship which this week was a “virtual” Greenbelt service of modern hymns and music, prayer, and thoughtful observations. I am not sure I went along with the presenter’s “misfits” analogy! While a very worthy act of worship which in non-covid days attracts many thousands of camping Christians at a huge Glastonbury type event, for me, this is an impossibly acquired taste which I would tolerate at a distance, in small doses. But the term “misfits” is inappropriate however “well meaninged”.
Bank Holiday Monday saw the last day of the Government’s “eat out to help out” campaign which subsided by up to £10 per person, restaurants bills for meals out each Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday in August. This incentive to eat out proved extremely popular. However, when contemplating world poverty, one can’t help being reminded of the saying “much shall have more”. I had intended having my final subsided meal at the Royal Oak, Hurdlow. Nobody answered the phone when I tried to book a table; I assumed they were fully booked. Suddenly, I fancied a curry, the first since those magnificent creations on the Queen Victoria in the Golden Lion. The Taj Mahal was fully booked also. So I had the take-way version of what I would have chosen had a table been available. By default, this was more expensive than eating out, as Boris’s subsidy didn’t apply!
Bank Holiday Monday was not the promised coldest August Bank Holiday on record; in fact, the afternoon, though not a heatwave, was extremely pleasant. Roger had devised a walk along public footpath towards Taddington from near Chelmorton. I was unable to tackle a very (for me) steep climb through woods along a slippery muddy footpath.
Today, I enjoyed my second hair cut of Lock-down. Clare arrived early this afternoon, to “do the biz”, and jolly good the haircut turned out to be. “Haircut at Home”, one of the unexpected pleasures during lock-down. I would submit a picture, but selfies make me look like Grandpa from The Waltons. Years ago (in 1978), in the station buffet at Manchester Piccadilly, I was mistaken for Benny from Crossroads! My colleague I was training with at the time maintained the most wonderful “poker-face”!
On that note, many thanks for reading, David, 19.22hrs 1st September.
David's Cruise 