Fortunately, we seem to be in the middle of a warm spell and the weather seems set fair for a few days. As it looked as though it might be a good ‘drying day’ we whipped the sheets off the bed and had them into the washing machine the minute we got up. When the washing machine had done its job, we got them out onto the clothes line and in no time they were billowing out as though they were a TV commercial. Speaking of which, there used to be a clothes washing product called ‘Omo’ (which stands for ‘Old Mother Owl’ i.e. wise enough to use this brand of washing powder) A search on the web revealed that it was still being made and available in 4.9kg cartons (although it was ‘unavailable’ when I checked on the web just now). According to the Unilever Website, it was introduced to the market in 1954 and is still available in Brazil, Turkey and Germany, Australia and Romania and has just been re-launched in Kenya where it was first available in 1953 (but it was discontinued in the UK in 1960’s – I wonder why?)

When we got the park, we were greeted by our friend Julie who looked hale and hearty but told us her tale of woe. Apparently, she had been taken ill on Friday night and had to have an emergency admission to hospital by ambulance with symptoms that sounded as though they could have been a heart attack. It turned out that it was a gall-bladder that had been playing up and after diagnosis ( and presumably some treatment) she was back home the following day. It sounds as though it must have been a really frightening experience when living on your own but fortunately a good and long-standing neighbour (who we now know) stepped in and gave a helping hand. After lunch, we resumed our house cleaning duties and completed them for another week until they start again. I was itching to get outside and do one or two little gardening jobs which I eventually did. One of these involved hammering a stake into the ground and then pulling an errant branch of an apple tree in a more vertical orientation and this seemed to work out OK. Fortunately, I had in stock an appropriate length of polypropylene rope (thank you Poundland!) which served the purpose well although I generally persuade the ladies of the household to donate to me their discarded tights as this makes for a light, strong rope-like fixing agent which is not harsh on the bark of a tree but has just the right amount of ‘give’ in it when under tension. My second job was to re-purpose a plastic gardening bag so that it would provide a cover for my now denuded mini greenhouse (again, thank God for Poundland) This worked pretty well and I seem to have been just in time because I noticed that later on in the evening the ground was wet. so we must have had a passing shower.

Mid-way through the evening we had the ‘Order of Service‘ for Clive’s funeral service delivered by hand to our front door. This is scheduled to take place tomorrow at 11.45 and we have been supplied with a web reference so that we can follow the proceedings  ‘on-line’.  Earlier in the day, we had a long discussion with our daughter-in-law regarding the exact preparations that need to take place before some children are allowed back into school on 1st June (or not, as the case might be) It is also interesting that the government has finally added ‘loss of taste’  as a symptom to be added to help diagnose COVD-19 (but won’t even attempt to answer how many more people there are ‘out there’ who may have had the virus and not known it and unknowingly infected many more in the. meantime).

As it is Sunday, Meg and I get our day organised so that we can watch The Andrew Marr politics show at 9.00 on BBC1. However, as the weeks roll by I really wonder why we bother because the politicians never get subjected to detailed scrutiny or (successfully) evade every question. Today, it was Michael Gove who succeeded in his glib way of saying absolutely nothing so that at the end of the interview you think ‘What did he actually say?’ The walk down to the park was uneventful but we did have quite an interesting chat with a lady who indicated that she had been an Ofsted inspector but her comments about teachers seemed to bely this. However, once we got off the vexed subject of whether teachers were right in being pressurised by the government to resume a limited return to school on 1st June and onto the subject of the best local garden centres in which to buy trees, the conversation took on a more fruitful turn. My own (not very educated) guess is that only 50% of parents may allow their children to go to school – in a conflict like this, the Government will claim success whilst teachers will be able to point to the low attendance rates across the country as a vindication of their stance.  In the North East, around Gateshead, where  the R factor is said locally to be above the trigger figure of 1.0 it seems that the local authorities may follow the Scots rather than London in keeping people away from school and themselves ‘safe’ in their own houses. The next week or so will be interesting to see how this plays out.

The afternoon was relatively uneventful as it was largely occupied by housework. The phrase keeps running through my head, uttered by the American comedienne Joan Rivers ‘The trouble is with housework is that you have all that dusting, polishing and hoovering – and then 9 months later you have to do it all over again!‘ However, there is a slight bonus in that the choice of music on ClassicFM is normally pretty good on a Sunday afternoon and that helps to alleviate the tedium. When this had been completed, I managed to get half-an-hour tidying up the contents of my mini plastic greenhouse, which were in a state of some disarray as the plastic cover had perished and needed to be ripped away. I have an initial search on the web to try and find a replacement cover without success so far so I must make more a more concerted effort in the morning.

I think the country is in an interesting state, politically. Initially, the government had a fairly strong approval rating for its actions on lock-down and this trend can be observed amongst all governments dealing with the COVID-19 crisis, whatever their political hue and degree of competence – the American political scientists have called this the ‘rally round the flag‘ syndrome, However, there seem to have been an abrupt change in political mood in the last week since the lockdown is starting to be released. The government’s approval rating has gone negative i.e. more people think it is doing a bad job than think it is doing a good job, according to a poll published in the Observer today. In particular, the vagueness and lack of precision behind the phrase ‘Stay alert‘ is a huge problem and the population is now confused by the ambiguity of the message compared with the simplicity of the ‘Stay at home‘ message it was replacing. Also, a certain psychological angst is being created by some evident anomalies e.g. (i) you can now accept a cleaner into your house (because of the ‘cash nexus’) but not see your own parents (ii) everybody should stay 2 metres apart from each other but it is quite  OK for this rule to be transgressed when getting on a Tube train or catching a bus (iii) as a teacher and a grandparent you will not be allowed to see your own grandchildren but you are being ‘encouraged’ by the government to see other parents’ children en masse if and when the schools resume. No wonder patience with the government is wearing exceedingly thin (and this is putting it mildly!)

Today has been rather an unusual day, probably relating to the fact that it is the weekend. For a start, we saw none of our usual friends to have a chat with on the way up and down the hill – this is probably a function of the fact that everyone has a somewhat different routine at the weekend and there were certainly a lot more children evident in the park and faces that we didn’t recognise. In the afternoon, I had two little ‘projects’ to carry out. The first of these involved planting a whole variety of seeds with my daughter-in-law We have a large seed-planting tray that helps to confine the mess on our outside table. As we didn’t have any specialised seed compost, we used ordinary compost leavened with a dose of vermiculite which we happened to have in stock. The seeds are some years old now and we have had them in stock for some time so we have not lost anything if they fail to germinate. But if they do, we ought to have a supply of foxglove, sweet peas, hollyhocks and others whose name I have forgotten. We happened to have in stock some lightweight seed trays with attendant plastic covers ( a little like a mini-cloche) and we now have 3-4 stored away safely in our airing room (to assist germination) before we will bring them downstairs and outsides to encourage them to ‘harden off’ (if any germinate, that is).

In the late afternoon, I turned my attention to tidying up the neglected corner of ‘Mog’s Den‘ in the garden. But a word of explanation is in order to understand what is going on. Right at the edge of our formal garden there is a sharply sloping bank of hitherto neglected land (I think it was neglected because in formal terms it lay between our formal boundary and a stock fence erected by the owner of the field which used to adjoin our garden) When we moved into the house 12 years ago, this area was full of 5-6 ft high nettles, brambles, holly, ivy and goodness knows what else. I have gradually reclaimed this space (now legally ours) and converted some of it into a woodland garden, complete with a slate path, forest bark to cover the slopes and shade-loving ever-green plants like Skimmia and a couple of fruit trees. But I did have an area upon which I had constructed a knee-high work area with some paving slabs- in the past, I had used to organise some cuttings but it was full of a great deal of clutter which included bags of compost, topsoil, my own sieved soil, spare sand, slate, buckets and containers of every description not to mention a mini-greenhouse with creosote, gardening implements, gloves, knives, string, scissors, plant ties. With a certain amount of neglect and the combined effects of wind and rain playing havoc, then the whole area had become a right mess and needed a good tidying up (to put it mildly) However after an hour and a half of sorting out, throwing away and relocation I had restored a degree of order to the whole so it is now looking a bit more shape-shape. I have set myself a mini-project of constructing a little curving path up a slope to my storage area beyond the fence. Some time ago in Poundland, I had invested in some little lattice arrangements of wood being sold off for £1 (I think to put plant pots and the like) but I think I can utilise them for a somewhat different purpose and use them to construct the steps for my path. I suspect I will going to do some sawing to construct a series of little pegs in order to construct a curve. Mind you, I often think that instead of opting for a mathematical precision, it is better to judge things by eye as it is the overall impression that counts in the end (and one doesn’t have to be too perfectionist about it after all!)

Another bright day with the weather set fair for a few days more. Actually, I wouldn’t mind if we had one or two really intense rain showers as the gardens are looking pretty dry at the moment. Having just ordered a Hornbeam tree for myself, I know that smaller varieties of this tree are often used as a hedging plant, the reason being that although it is fairly similar to beech, it keeps its leaves right throughout the winter, even though they have turned brown. Therefore the hedge functions as a hedge i.e. as a barrier either in the summer or the winter, even though it is not an evergreen. Having read about this characteristic, I am pretty sure I have seen one or two examples of it in neighbours’ gardens as I walk down the hill so I am making a mental note of the houses and their numbers so that I can confirm my hunches when I next see the occupants. Today, I have succeeded in doing something which has eluded me for the last 60 days of lockdown and daily walk – i.e. I have spilled an entire cup of coffee into my rucksack, as I sat juggling diverse flasks, cups, biscuit containers on my knees. Fortunately, I had plenty of kitchen paper to help to mop up the contents – maybe, I should try a different way of drinking my coffee tomorrow and in the future. There seemed to be a lot of children in the park today, mainly on their scooters, bikes (but no hobby horses). When we returned home, we had a ‘free’ lunch, courtesy of Waitrose – I had ordered some cod fillets in my ‘Click and Collect‘ but as these were within one day of their sell-by date, Waitrose supplied them to us gratis which was very ethical of them. I supplemented the parsley sauce that I had with some fresh parley which we just happen to have growing in an odd corner of the garden.

Just before I went out to do my weekly ‘mowing’. I received a phone call from the son of my deceased friend, Clive. He was phoning to ensure that I had all of the details for the funeral on Tuesday next. Having got a relevant email address, I can now forward the link to the video clip of Clive playing his trumpet at our 50th wedding anniversary celebrations so the family will have another clip to add to their collection. As we suspected, Clive had gone downhill extremely rapidly in the last few days so I am delighted that we managed to make a farewell wave to him whilst he could still recognise us before the very end. My mowing was extended a little as I ran the petrol mower over my neighbour’s front lawn as she has not been feeling too well recently and I thought this might give her a bit of a helping help before our gardeners return. I couldn’t bear to watch the Downing Street briefing this evening as the evasion displayed by the politicians is starting to get to me a bit – interesting how the graph showing international comparisons has suddenly disappeared now that it is evident that we have fared the worst of all the European nations in coping with the crisis.

Two or three little snippets of COVID-19 news that came into prominence today. Firstly, it appears that the rate of infection amongst children is just about the same as the rest of the population. Secondly, obesity and associated diabetes is now an extremely influential factor,  being displayed in a quarter of all deaths. And thirdly, the ‘R’ factor (rate of infection) seems to be getting closer to 1.0 as one approaches the deprived areas of the North East of England – which gives one food for thought.

Today was the fateful day in which I was to collect my first Waitrose ‘Click and Collect’ order. As it worked out, all was plain sailing – although there was a long and orderly queue, I was directed to enter the store directly and then waited whilst all my order was delivered in a series of carrier bags on a Waitrose staff trolley. I was then supplied with a customer trolley into which I unloaded all the bags and then straight home. I think next time, I will wait until a fortnight has elapsed and then go for a straight delivery service which is available once you spend a certain quantum of money. Once we eventually got to the park having encountered our usual two sets of friends and their grandchildren en-route, we enjoyed the pleasant sunshine. We also passed by Clive’s house where his family was chatting with other neighbours and we made sure that we all have he arrangements in place for the funeral next Tuesday. The grandchildren had prepared an information leaflet giving all the neighbours up and down the Kidderminster Road details of the video-feed from the crematorium so I am sure that after the initial ‘clap-off’ we shall repair to our respective houses and follow the proceedings on our laptops.

This afternoon turned out to be a heavier afternoon than I would have liked. I set myself the task of encouraging a Wegela to grow nice and tall – this entailed attached a length of bamboo cane to an existing cane and then affixing the various branches to it. The trouble was that everything was a bit precarious because I was balancing on a pile of bricks in one hand whilst trying to manipulate string, plant-ties, scissors, etc, with the other. I am not sure that the result looked much better than the original but at least I have had a go. Then I decided to construct a sort of miniature fence halfway up the slope near the area cleared by the fallen tree. Fortunately, I had in my possession a post-boring implement (actually it looks like a giant corkscrew but it enables you to construct the type of hole you want for a fencing post without too much digging or the use of concrete). All that is required then is a lot of hammering with a heavy-duty sledgehammer which was really quite hard work. Then I utilised some timber that my neighbour had kindly let me have as surplus to his own requirements when he was having some building work done and the timbers neatly stacked behind it and were held in position by two more staves (previously pre-creosoted) at the rear. The idea is to store things like bags of compost, topsoil and other garden requisites behind the fence so that everything will look nice and neat once more tidying up has taken place.

As it is Thursday evening, our little ‘close’ participated in the weekly ‘Clap for Carers‘ but perhaps the response was little more muted this week? We took the opportunity to have an extended chat with our new-ish neighbours. The husband had returned home yesterday from a spell in hospital where he was being treated for some heart problems so we exchanged some hospital stories with each other. We have both every reason to be grateful for some high-quality care in our local hospitals but hospital organisation is a little complicated in this area as the local trust covers Redditch, Kidderminster and Worcester and patients often shuttle from one hospital to another in the course of their treatment. This can make life a little complicated at times as Bromsgrove is in the middle of this little ‘triangle’ being approximately twelve miles distant from each but one gets used to it in time.

Today is the day when, in theory, there should be some liberalisation of the great lockdown but it has brought with it a series of nonsenses and anomalies. If I understand it correctly, you can sit on a park bench with two strangers provided you are at least two metres apart. If one of them is your parent, then it is permissible to converse with one them – but if both people are your parents this would constitute a meeting of three people and would be illegal (if you were to talk to both of them at once – but not, in turn!). If you were selling your house, then it would be legitimate for your agent to accompany two people who are viewing your property but you are not allowed to join them. Transgressions are to be met with an increased fine (£100 for a first offence) And, of course, this is only in England but not in Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland where the previous lockdown rules still apply. And if you go to work and your employer asks you to engage in a practice which breaks the new rules, can you walk out or not? (A government minister on Radio 4 refused to say whether it would be illegal to fail to comply with an employer’s not-legal instruction …and so on and so forth). It will be interesting to see how many fines and/or prosections are actually handed out to deal with all of this.

Our journey to the park today followed its usual course except that we didn’t stop to chat on the way there or on the way back. The amusing thing is that when we are seated on our park bench eating our elevenses (now absolutely legal and of course we can sunbathe as well if we wish to) many of the dogs let off the lease to have a run around make straight for us on the assumption that food is in the offing – their owners are inevitably full of chagrin but we are rather amused by it all. The park was busier than normal and it appeared that most benches were occupied – evidently, people had realised that they could now get to the park and chat with friends and neighbours quasi-legally (but see the above!)

After lunch, I thought I would move a youngish tree from one location to another, such that it helps to distract attention away from the next-door neighbour’s garden which is replete with every kind of outside toy it is possible to have so that the whole approximates to a children’s playground. (There is a hidden irony in all of this as part of our three initially successful attempts to object to the orchard adjacent to our hose being replaced by a miniature housing estate, one proposal was there should be a public children’s playground provided within a metre or so of our simple-wire (stock) fence!) Digging the hole ought to have simple but it didn’t quite turn out that way. I need to explain that the plot of land upon which our house was built was originally a nursery complete with outbuildings and the like. When it came to developing the site, there seemed to be a policy of bulldozing the buildings over, removing the subsequent rubble and then covering the remains with earth. Consequently, any attempts to dig on the outer fringes of the garden are nearly always met with a plethora of half-bricks, stones, bits of concrete and the like – and today was no exception. Having got the planting hole well prepared with compost, root fungus and bonemeal now it came to the transplanting itself. My tree purchased a couple of years ago is, if I remember, a Tilia Cordata Greenspire but I now estimate it to be about 16ft tall. In negotiating it out of its former position, I succeeded pretty well except for inadvertently breaking off (or damaging) the top foot of it. Nonetheless, now it is well in position (exactly where I wanted it to be) and well-watered and it seems to be surviving the shock of transplant already. Time will tell!

In the early evening, we FaceTimed some of our former Waitrose friends whom we had met in the park on Monday last and they seem to have a tremendous problem with their priority order at Asda (systems failure, wiping out their basket of shopping, their priority slot and all future priority slots) but eventually succeeded with Waitrose – I must say I am not surprised that Asda’s systems seemed to be unable to cope as even after a year, the system could not cope with reading my newspaper vouchers when I occasionally tried to use them in store.

Well, I thought today might be a little anti-climatic after the jollities of yesterday. As is now usual, we met two sets of friends on the way down into the park where the weather was so much kinder to us than yesterday, with a fairly clear blue sky and a wind that had moderated since yesterday. On the way home, we encountered one of our friends for the second time and commiserated with each about the fate of elderly relatives whose families were not treating them as well as they should have been. In the afternoon, I had set myself to do half an hour’s gardening but this soon turned into an hour and a half. I had pulled some dead branches complete with a complement of ivy from our fallen tree and I now had the task of disposing of it. I decided that it was a better job to sit down and chop it all into 3″-4″ pieces which I duly did, and this will make disposal of one blue sack of clippings so much easier. When clearing a little bit of banked woodland, I was wondering whether ivy was universally to be cleared and should be eliminated, or whether it was worth letting the younger, greener shoots still climb over the tree stumps. I decided on the latter course of action because, otherwise, the tree stumps would have been like blackened rotting teeth and I have a ‘cunning plan’ to let the little triangle of earth which is difficult to cultivate be colonised by a little white plant that I have elsewhere in the garden that may provide some ground cover.

This evening, we had a little domestic drama on our hands. Not knowing what we had done with some socks, washable face masks, and one or two other odds and ends, we hunted through the whole house for them before we found them in a special ‘receptacle’ which is positioned in front of the filtration unit in our dryer. This filtration unit is meant to be cleaned every six months but with this new model of machine, we had somehow forgotten to do it since it was new. However all’s well that ends well as after a collective effort from the household, we managed to retrieve the lost items (and it still a mystery to us how they ended up there!) and put everything else to rights.

Today, I received my delivery of goods from Iceland – instead of being delivered in the slot from 6.00-8.00 in the morning, it arrived at 5.55 (to be fair to Iceland, they had sent me a text telling me that I was first on the list) However an order of £40.00 had been reduced to £31.00 after certain items could not be supplied (kitchen rolls – fancy that), catfood and eggs – all of which we can live without. Now I am getting myself geared up for a ‘Click and Collect’ on Thursday morning.

We didn’t bother to observe the Downing Street briefing which has been a habit of ours in the last few days. I suspect that there if there is a groundswell of opinion, it is that ‘following the science‘ is not as clear and simple as the politicians would have us believe. After all, the ‘science’ told is to ‘test, test and test again‘ as in South Korea, Taiwan, New Zealand and elsewhere that have got on top of the virus much more expeditiously than we have.  The truth when it emerges will probably reveal that we didn’t go in for a regime of rigorous testing because we had neither the kit, the laboratories or the personnel to do it. News has emerged that we send 50,000 samples to the USA to be tested because our own facilities could n0t cope for one reason or another. Some people are already looking forward to what the inevitable enquiry might reveal – one government minister is quoted as having expressed the thought that ‘we might avoid the blame for getting us into the mess in the first place but we shall surely get the blame if we mess up the exit’!

So the day has arrived – today I am 75 years of age and rather pleased to have another half-decade under my belt. We always thought that today was going to be quite a busy day and so it turned out to be. We left on our journey for the park and, indeed, got there at just 11.00 am whereby, by complete coincidence, two of our long-lasting Waitrose friends just happened to be waiting for us. Within a few minutes, we were joined by Julie (also of Waitrose ancestry) and within only a few minutes more, another couple of friends joined us. We had a happy reunion and drank our coffee with glee, although if the truth be told the weather was sharp and cold and the wind quite keen and blustery. Earlier in the day, my favourite niece had phoned at just the point I was due to get into the shower and I had to reassure myself that we were not on FaceTime and that I was appearing naked. My sister had also sent me a message earlier on the day so a lot of family-related news was relayed. Having heard so much about the lake, I had been asked to take and supply some photos on my iPhone, which I duly did but the evidence proves that we were all at least two metres apart. And so for home, but not before collecting another birthday card and a wonderful present of some gardening gloves from our gardening friend down the road (as it happened, I had been admiring the gloves she has been wearing a day or so before, not anticipating a prezzie later on) And so we got home only to pick up the car and go to ‘accidentally’ visit yet another friend who had been busy baking a most magnificent cake for me (pumpkin and rhubarb made according to a brand-new recipe) This turned out to be some of the nicest cake I had ever tasted and we sampled some of it after having our lunchtime soup. After this, although it was bitterly cold, a Pilates friend with whom I have a particular friendship, hove into view from a field at the back of the house, emerging from a flock of distant sheep and a bunch of nettles (we happened to be under the surgeon’s knife at about the same time just about two years ago and were commiserating with each and giving each other messages of moral support). I had already constructed an elaborate arrangement of a cardboard box affixed with double-sided tape to a long-handled snow shovel which proved to the perfect way to hand over a glass of champagne and even more cake which Meg, myself and my Pilates friend all had together in what must have been one the more esoteric birthday gatherings of all time! Another photo ensued was taken to record the event for posterity. The afternoon was spent watching Boris Johnson in full burble mode before the House of Commons before we decided that we would treat ourselves to an Indian ‘take-away’ meal. We decided to break the house rule and all eat together on this occasion and we probably ate far too much than was good fur us, as well as polishing off the special birthday cake. We shared the birthday cards we have received and even Miggles, our adopted cat, got included in one of them (it showed an illustration of a cat sitting in its cat-bed with a thought bubble coming out of its head with the musing ‘Here we go .. another day of being wonderful me – cute, fluffy and adorable … with just a hint of evil, psycho, ninja assassin‘. This was courtesy of my Pilates friend who had read the blogs about my family nick-name (‘Mog’) and the exploits of Miggles. Meanwhile, Boris Johnson and his government are busy making announcements about back to work on Monday, only to be corrected as Wednesday and with several ministers displaying ignorance of their own policy in early morning interviews not to mention the fact that the right-wing of the Tory party, exhibiting a strident English nationalism, are ignoring the wishes of most of the English population, not to mention the Irish, the Welsh, the Scots… we have been here before with the Brexit nonsense and see where that had landed us. The end, however, of one of the most enjoyable birthdays it was ever possible to have, so life can’t be all bad…

Here is a link to some birthday snaps (a few a little dark!): http://bit.ly/mike75th

As I had finished last night’s blog (in the wee small hours of the morning I must confess) I had a quick look at my emails and saw that I had received an email from Iceland. I was not expecting this but I must have registered my email address with them sometime before. I quickly registered with them and wondered if they had any free slots as they promising ‘free’ delivery the next day if you spend  £35.00 on a basket of groceries. A slot was being offered from 6.00-8.00 next Tuesday morning and. not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I set about constructing an order not so much of essentials but of ‘usefuls‘ including toilet and kitchen paper, some long-life milk and some other commodities it is good to have in one’s pantry even if not needed in the next day or so.  So next week, I shall two grocery consignments (a ‘click and collect’ from Waitrose on Thursday morning and now the delivery from Iceland on Tuesday morning). I think once I get my act together, I might have one delivery from Waitrose per fortnight and another from Iceland in the intervening weeks.

We were very disturbed immediately after breakfast to observe an ambulance outside our next-door neighbour’s door. If there had been a blue flashing light, we might have assumed a heart attack but as the ambulance remained for quite a long time, we really did fear the worst. However, as we were leaving for our walk our neighbour emerged and walked into the ambulance unaided. We discovered subsequently in chats with his wife throughout the day that he had been suffering some angina pains and was admitted to our local hospital in Redditch. He is to be seen by a specialist cardiologist on Monday morning (surely a good thing!) and will probably spend a day or so in hospital for monitoring and routine tests. Apparently, he is in good spirits and we are all mightily relieved, as you might imagine.

The weather forecast indicated bands of rain sweeping across the country and a lot of cold air. We certainly got the cold and blustery winds but not the rain. As we were huddled up on our park bench, one of our best friends who lives opposite the park had espied us and on her morning walk dropped by a carrier bag containing some birthday goodies, which I shall not open until tomorrow. If the weather is not atrocious tomorrow, we may bump into some friends in the park tomorrow, see another long-standing friend later, and then see one of my Pilates friends who will emerge from the middle of a flock of sheep in the early afternoon (see earlier blogs for an explanation). We shall have to wait and see. According to King Boris, it will be quite legal fur us to sit and have a snack on the park bench on Wednesday next and not just as a break in the middle of a strenuous(!) walk which is what we are doing at the moment.

The next week or so will be quite interesting, politically. For once the unions may have a very significant voice (which they haven’t had for about 40 years ago now) because if they advise workers to stay at home until their employer guarantees them a safe working environment, then we could have workplaces that are ‘open’ but with no workers within them. It is quite interesting that the population as a whole do not seem over keen to get back to work – perhaps the graphic images (of which there have been plenty) of what happens when one gets put into an acute care unit and then a ventilator is quite enough to persuade people that home is the best place to be.

I am feeling a little tired this morning for quite understandable reasons. As I had a wakeful patch in the middle of the night, I came downstairs to interrogate my computer and idly wondered if Waitrose was offering any ‘Click and Collect’ sessions. As it happened they were so I immediately started to compile a shopping list for a few day’s time and I now have a slot booked for next Thursday in the morning. I suppose the next time I shop, the system will have remembered my last shop, and therefore I only have to amend it, but the first run-through is always quite time-consuming so that was about an hour’s less beauty sleep.

The day after VE day and there was still an interesting atmosphere in the streets. It must be a combination of the pandemic on the one hand and a mood of national solidarity on the other but everybody seemed to wish to stop and talk with us today. We met several groups of both friends and acquaintances, both on the way down to the park and also on the journey back up again, with interesting conversations to be had all round. In the park, we had noticed a particularly striking tree and on both sides, there were figures carved into it – a type of wooden sculpture, I suppose you would call it. We enquired with one of the locals whom we know by sight and we were informed that the ‘sculptures’ were of the two daughters, Lucy Sanders and Mary Sanders who inherited the whole of what is now Sanders Park and donated it to the town. They both lived to a great old age (81 and 95 respectively). The original Benjamin Sanders, the great grandfather of Lucy and Mary Sanders had established a button factory and when we first moved to Bromsgrove, I believe that we caught sight of the modernised version of this although it has now been incorporated into a private dwelling house. The grandfather of these two eminent ladies had inherited the Cotton Pool estate and drained the enormous pool which is now the ‘pond’ besides which we sit every day to drink our coffee and eat our biscuits (necessary sustenance after having walked for 1.5 km from our house!) This is only a sketchy history but I thought I would go on the web and Google for a few more details as the contribution of the 19th-century philanthropists who had great wealth and no doubt increased it with their entrepreneurial activities did tend to invest the proceeds back into their local communities. One is reminded of the great Quaker families (Rowntrees in York, Cadbury’s in Bournville (Birmingham) and  the Clarks of Street in Somerset).

Late on this afternoon, I set myself the task of clearing a bit of scrubland on a slope near to the point at which my fallen tree had had to be removed. There were quite a lot of brambles (one I swear was about 15 ft long) and ubiquitous ivy but I felt I had made some progress. Tomorrow is going to be really wet but when the weather improves I will need to ‘terrace’ the slope by putting in some retaining boards and then I shall finish it iff with weed control fabric and some forest bark. Fortunately, I already have some of these materials in stock but no doubt I will run out at the most inconvenient point!

Tonight I watched the Churchill film ‘Darkest Hour‘ detailing the events and dilemmas facing Winston Churchill in 1940. I wonder whether Boris has watched the film, probably for the second time, and whether there are parallels to be drawn between the dilemmas of then and now.