Today has been a very interesting day with quite a lot of ‘out of the ordinary’ things happening. As it was Meg’s birthday, we knew that today was going to be out of the run of the ordinary and so it proved. After we had got up quite early and breakfasted, Meg opened her cards and the presents we had received to date. Although we do not normally attend church services midweek, today was going to be an exception. It had been announced that today was going to be a special annointing of the sick and elderly known formerly as the ‘Sacrament of the Sick’ In Catholic theology, this sacrament used to be known as ‘Extreme Unction’ or more popularly the last rites but today seemed to be a special mass annointing day, as it were. Normally there would be about a dozen members of the congregation attening church on a weekday but today the church was pretty full with numbers similar to a Sunday morning congregation. The priest moved around all of the members of the congegation giving a special annointing to those who required it which was practically everybody in attendance. After the service was over, there was going to be a special bun-fight in the parochial church hall and it was a marvellous experience to feel part of a community again as we have worshipping more or less regularly over the past four years. Our absence for the last week or so because of Meg’s frailty had been noticed and so we received a particularly warm welcome. We renewed contact with a particularly vivacious Liverpudlian (Catholic Irish) who can talk the hind legs of a donkey but who made the very welcome offer to perhaps come along and visit Meg in the future. If my memory serves me correctly, she knows exactly where we live because I think that she used to be friends of our former next door neighbours, both of whom have now sadly passed away. On our way home, we popped into some of our friends along the Kidderminster Road and received from them an invitation to come around for lunch tomorrow. This invitation we gladly accepted as we have got quite a lot to catch up on and we always enjoy their company tremendously. When we got home, there was yet another goody bag stuffed full of presents for Meg so this makes three in total. In addition, Meg had some jewellery from me bought yesterday and we also unpacked the large ornate jug and the flower vase which we were tempted to purchase yesterday and which have already found homes on our fireplaces and window shelves. We lunched on a simple lunch of fishcakes which is our normal Tuesday fare but it was just as well to have a lighter lunch as we had rather indulged in some rather nice cake in the parish hall earlier on this morning.

We tuned in to Sky News as is customary and the Conservative party conference is being covered in great detail. We listened to the speech given by the Home Secretary, Suella Braverman, whose every utterance is designed to further a future leadership challenge after the next election is (probably) lost by Rishi Sunak. As one might expect, the audience gave almost rapturous applause to every piece of rhetoric which was deployed to the full. One thing that struck me as particularly funny (or depressing) was her diatribe against the ‘liberal’ left intent on destroying the country where it was declaimed that they even tried to call Margaret Thatcher a racist. In view of the fact that Thatcher’s views pronouncements were often characterised as racists when she claimed that the indigenous population was being ‘swamped’ with migrants. I found the following commentary on the Thatcher observations when I was trying to provide evidence for my observations on Thatcher. Her 1978 intervention did not mark a change in policy – the Conservatives had taken a hard line on immigration since she became leader in 1975 – but it had an immediate short-term effect on public opinion. After her comments, a survey by National Opinion Polls recorded a dramatic surge in support for the Tories, who jumped to an 11-point lead over Labour, who they had previously been trailing by two points. A year later, the Tories won the general election, while the National Front, which had stood a record number of candidates, failed to win a single seat and collapsed amid bitter recriminations.

Yesterday, I was tempted and did actually buy a small cassette player which was not only cheap but had good quality speakers and had BlueTooth installed. I find that I can play tracks from my iPhone as well as getting almost anything that takes my fancy from Amazon music (after a search). This is proving to be quite a useful little addition to our supply of musical devices and despite the absence of an instruction manual, it will do anything that I want it to do for the price of a couple of cups of coffee (which is my unit of currency these days). We have a shrewd suspicion that our next door neighbours might have returned from holiday after their venture around ports Hispanic (including our favourite of La Coruña) so we must grab the opportunity when it presents itself of sharing experiences over a cup of afternoon tea.

We had no particular plans for this Monday morning but we got ourselves up and breakfasted first. Then I popped down into town and was relieved to see that our regular newsagent now had his shop open again this morning. His wife informed me that her husband had had a bad chest infection and this necessitated a short stay in hospital. He had returned home in the middle of last week but was very much in a resting and recovery phase at the moment. I asked his wife to send on my very best wishes to him and my hopes for a speedy recovery. Then Meg and I thought we would visit the cafe/restaurant in which we used to eat quite regularly in Droitwich but it has the advantages for us that it fairly accessible from the main road once we have got the car parked and relatively wheelchair friendly with a ramp. They treated us very warmly once we got inside and in fact one of the existing clients saw me struggling slightly and so opened the door for me. Once inside, we made contact with our regular assistant within the cafe but she needed to depart quite soon. We had our normal fare of cappuchinos and toasted teacake which was fine as always. But when we came to depart, it having been left dropped that it was Meg’s birthday tomorrow, a little box of chocolates and a birthday card was pressed into our hand. We exchanged some pleasanteries (and a joke or two) with some of the regulars and no doubt we will become one of those ourselves as we intend to keep on visiting at least once per week. Where we had parked the car on the main road, we had noticed last time that there a shop with a very wide frontage devoted to Worcestershire Association of Carers of which I happen to be a fairly long standing member. I managed to get Meg over the threshhold on this occasion in her wheelchair and the shop seemed to be quite well stocked with goodies. We bought a necklace for Meg tomorrow which no doubt she can wear when we go out and I also was tempted to buy a couple of decorated vases in which I am sure we can accommodate flowers either of the transient variety or even of the permanent kind if we happen to be in a suitable store. These were carefully wrapped for us and instead of unwrapping them today, I think we can leave them until tomorrow as they function as quasi-birthday presents. We got home some time afer 12 in time in watch the 12.15 Politics Today programme which is evidently encamped within, and reporting on, the Conservative Party conference.

As I have remarked before, the lawns seem to grow at a great pace in present weather conditions and so I thought, whilst I was in the mood, I would give them a cut since it is about ten days since the last. I try to get the lawns done in three 20 minutes tranches so that I can keep an eye on Meg in the meantime. I managed to get the first cut of our communal green area done before lunch and then I made ourselves a lightning lunch of ham and easily microwaved vegetables. Then after a little pause to get my breath after lunch, I completed the cutting of the front lawned area before coming in for a well-earned cup of tea. I received a telephone call from the ‘LifeLine’ company which supplies and monitors the communication cord that Meg wears around her neck in the case of falls and I was pleased to be able to report to them that I was delighted with their service. After the the free trial period ends, I shall need to pay to continue the service but the charges are quite reasonable, all things being considered. After that, it was a case of dashing round the back lawns which always seem to be thicker and more lush than out in the front. Nonetheless, this got done and the mower duly cleaned up and put away. I think that there might only need to be two or three more cuts before the end of the season.

By this morning’s post, I received the order of service from the funeral of my old and dear friend, Jo, who died in August at the age of 96. I read the euology provided by her son with a lump in my throat and her son’s own reminiscencies and judgements of his mother resonated with my own feelings and emotions. The missive arrived just before we went out to Droitwich and I intended to read this out to Meg whilst we were sitting having our coffee. However, I thought the better of this and brought it home and will read it out to Meg at a more propitious time. In the late afternoon, there was a knock on the door and I was delighted to see an old ‘park friend’ with whom I had been in email contact during the night. We have arranged a luncheon date for this Friday in Webbs which is only just down the road and pretty accessible for us. Our friend indicated to us he was now part of a volunteer group, rewiring a 1953 corporation bus in a local transport museum, so this may just test his skills to the full.

And so Sunday has come round once again but with the additional feeling that this is the first of the month. I did mutter ‘White rabbits, white rabbits, white rabbits’ to my wife but she assumed that I was talking my usual nonsense. After our ablutions, I got us sitting in the Music Room where we listened to the Laura Kuennsberg political program amd she was interviewing Rishi Sunak as Prime Minister. She pressed him as far as she could to give an unequivocal answer to the fate of HS2 in which it has been heavily briefed that the Birmingham to Manchester link is going to be axed, making a complete mockery of the whole project. In response to this question, Sunak relied upon a formulaic form of words in which he declaims ‘We have spades in the ground’ which is meaningless and, of course, does nothing to answer the question. One of the studio guests was the impressionist, John Culshaw, who when asked his opinion of the interview said what the rest of the population must be feeling i.e. a master class in how never to respond to a direct question. Culshaw was then asked, and obliged, to give impressions of both Rishi Sunak and Keir Starmer which he did with great aplomb.

We were unsure what arrangements we were going to have this Sunday but after a quick phone call with our University of Birmingham friend, we decided to have a coffee and elevenses at Webbs garden stores, just three miles down the road. We collected our copy of the Sunday newspaper from Waitrose and then made for the eating area in Webbs, which is always tremendously busy on a Sunday morning and an evident meeting point for friends and relatives, as well as having an area where young children can bounce around on a variety of toy things. We reviewed the events of the last week with each other and somehow got onto the subject of the sexual behaviour of young couples. At this stage, I inadvertently uttered one of the funniest ‘bon mots’ for a long time. I was deploring the recent trend for couples to have sex with each perhaps on a first date and before they had even established that they particularly liked each other. I expressed the view, probably taken over from my Catholic upbringing, that I thought a young woman’s body should be a temple ‘and she should not allow access to it from any young man, willy nilly’ Incidentally, I thought I had better check on the current interpretation of the phrase ‘willy nilly’ and discovered the following. Although we more commonly use it nowadays to mean ‘haphazardly’, the origin centres around the first meaning. The early meaning of the word ‘nill’ was the opposite of ‘will’, as in ‘wanting to do something’. In other words, ‘nill’ meant ‘wanting to avoid doing something’. So, combining the two words – I am willing, I am unwilling – expresses the idea that it doesn’t matter to me one way or the other! We had a very enjoyable chat for about an hour before we decided to strike for home.

Just before lunch, we put on ‘YouTube‘ and stumbled into a concert that was being given by Anne-Sophie Mutter, with the proceeds going to the Ukraine. This sounded excellent but then lunch intervened, so we did not listen to it all the way through. Lunch was very easy to prepare today, as it happened. Meg’s cousin who we visited yesterday had prepared too much casserole for the four uf us to consume at one meal so she gave us a plastic container with the excess and we were delighted to eat it up for lunch today with only some broccoli to prepare and to eat alongside it. As it was, it was pretty filling and we didn’t quite finish it all. After lunch, we started to watch an André Rieu concert from the principal square in Maastricht. This was a themed concert, entitled ‘Love in Maastricht’ and I am not sure what time of year it was filmed although I know that these Rieu concerts are sometimes held over the Christmas period. This was a concert unlike any other that I have seen filmed. Before each piece, there were some words of explanation and context. Before one aria, for example, a young Brazilian soprano was explaining how much she missed her boyfriend and then fabulously attired and made up for the role as Madam Butterfly she sang the aria as though to her missing boyfriend. There was some fascinating cameras shots as members of the auduence were picked out, some of them with their eyes glistening with emotion and others evidently transported by the piece. There were lots of shots of couples exchanging kisses with each other and even three heavily pregnant members of the orchestra were interviewed as part of the performance. There was an explanation of the Strauss ‘Blue Danube’ walz which is not always to my taste but the whole concert was quite an emotional and compelling view. Whilst on this subject, I read an absolutely jaw-dropping piece in today’s Sunday Times which was describing how ill-behaved some modern theatre audiences were in this post-Covid period with what used to be occasional bouts of drunkeness, aggression and boorish behaviour not just an isolated occurrence but almost an everyday event with which theatre personnel are having to deal.

Today we started off quite early as we got up early, had a cup of tea and then went to sleep again for a couple of hours. Last night, after Meg was safely tucked up in bed, I started to watch the New Zealand vs. Italy rugby match but as it was such a one-sided competitiopn, it was no real joy to watch and so I abandoned the effort just before half time when the score was about 45:3. I did, though, succeed in getting the video that our domestic help had taken of a panoramic view of our Music Room with me playing the Casio keyboard to accompany the video subsequently uploaded to one of my websites. I then had to remind myself to get the video to run automatically via the META tag in the header section of an index file and then made sure that this worked successlly as well. Then I explored the browser connectivity of our recently acquired Toshiba TV and although this was the american computing community might describe as a little bit ‘kludgy’ I got the address of my music system stitched into the browser so that I can play the video back at will through the TV. Once I got into bed, though, Meg was having rather a disturbed night which did not help my sleep pattern very much. This morning, after I got myself up and showered and Meg’s ablutions performed, it was a case of getting downstiars a little late and then having some breakfast before we set off to see our friends in Waitrose. We could stay for a strict half hour before we needed to set off knowing that we needed a fillup of petrol en route. After we refuelled, I deployed the post code of Meg’s cousins into the SatNav in order to navigate correctly to our destination. I was a little dismayed when the system could not recognise the postcode so entered the address via the house number and street name and was relieved when the system now recognised the address. We got to our cousin’s house in Cheltenham about fifteen minutes before we were due and Meg’s cousin was out in the street waiting for us. As soon as we got there, I queried the case of the equivocal postcode and it transpired that in a WhatsApp message a ‘fat finger’ had intervened and a digit in the postcode was out by one – explaining its non-discovery.

Once we got inside the house and knowing that these cousins of Meg’s are quite tech savvy, i wondered if their smart TV could access an internet address. They managed this quite carefully and in no time at all, we were displaying the little music video on our cousin’s TV. We also had the opportunity to explain how we had built up the collection of musical pieces bit by bit and why this is now quite an important part of our lifespace. And so we proceeded to lunch which was absolutely delicious. Our cousin had prepared a casserole for us which was basically little squares of pork cooked, I believe, in cider and served with some of those little bijou roast potatoes and some green beans. We had taken along some wine so we had a really enjoyable meal over which we discussed, at great length, the various afflictions which were affecting both Meg and her nearest cousin who is now living with a daughter in Derby. It appeared that some of the interactions we had with social services seemed identical, despite the fact that we were talking about very different local authorities and we discussed lots of practicalities in a frank and informative way in only a way that close family members do. We are resolved, though, to keep in much closer touch with our cousins so that through information sharing, we can be as helpful and supportive to each other as it is possible to be. By the late afternoon, it was evident that Meg was beginning to tire so we started the journey home which was very uneventful. We are are only 39 miles apart and most of that is the M5 motorway, the only more problematic section being a circumnavigation of the Cheltenham one way system to get to our destination in the south of the city. After we had returned home, we watched the second half of the Fiji vs Georgia rugby match over a relaxing cup of tea but we are actually in some anticipation of the Scotland vs. Romania match scheduled to start at 8.00pm this evening. We will have to organise getting Meg ready for bed before the match starts and then Meg and I will probably watch the first half of the match in armchairs in our bedroom before I settle Meg down and I will conclude watching the second half of the match downstairs.

I know that one should not gloat and as Denis Healy, the veteran Labour party politician used to observe that ‘In war, the first casualty is truth’ but some interesting news has emerged this afternoon. It is being reported in Romania that there may have been a violation of its own air space and that a Russian fighter plane might have been shot down by their own side. The full account of all of this might emerge a little later but, as usual, the Sunday newspapers may provide slightly more in-depth detail and analysis.

We always look forward to Fridays not only because it is the end of the week but we also have the chance for a long chat our domestic help who is also so useful to us on a Friday. We were not sure what our plans were going to be this morning because normally we see our University of Birmingham friend on Friday mornings but we did not have anything specifically planned for this morning. After a quick telephone call, we established that he had another commitment this morning but we would meet for afternoon tea this afternoon. On the recommendation of our domestic help, we decided to make for Barnt Green which is a suburb of Bromsgrove with a range of good coffee shops, charity shops and independent stores (including one of those old fashioned ironmongers where you go inside and wonder how you had ever managed for so long without this gadget or that piece of pottery) We found a parking place which was quite unusual because parking is always at a great premium along this particular High Sytreet and then got Meg safely bundled into a wheelchair, which we tend to use quite a lot these days. The pavements were at a bit of a camber and not particularly well maintained so pushing the wheelchair was not the easiest of jobs. Nonetheless, we found a coffee shop where people were enjoying the weather outside the shop whilst they drank their coffee and we found one unoccupied table at which we ordered a cappuchino coffee and a toasted teacake. We spent a pleasant few minutes here and then made our way along the High Street, in search of charity shops. But we were fortunate to find a Tesco Express where I could dive in and get my daily copy of ‘The Times‘ and next door to it there was an ATM and for both of these faciliuties I was well and truly grateful as it saved a lot of searching around. We did locate one charity shop which had quite a small frontage and I doubted tht I could Meg over the threshhold. So whilst Meg stayed outside, I shot inside and located quite a very tasteful ‘per una’ top which Meg can wear tomorrow when we visit cousins and I also took the opportunity to buy a birthday card in anticipation of next Tuesday. Then Meg and I had a bit of a rest before I persuaded our domestic help who was a photographer in an earlier life to take a little video of us on her iphone. I wanted the video to show the various pieces of kit which now populated our music room whilst I was playing a piece (the ‘Barcarolle’ from ‘Tales of Hoffman’ on my Casio keyboard) and this all worked more or less perfectly apart from the fact that my fingers hit a couple of adjacent keys at the end causing a discord. But by an extraordinary piece of good luck, our photographer had just managed the sequence of shots I had wanted her to video when I finished my piece so we established a perfectly synchronised ending to both of our activities. I wanted this to show to Meg’s cousins tomorrow when we visit them on the presumption that a picture, and even better a video, is worth a thousand words.

We had our normal fish pie lunch for a Friday and then we allowed ourselves a burst of the ‘James Martin’ cookery programme which tends to show interesting shots of Spain en route. We had to leave this early because we had planned to meet for our afternoon tea in Waitrose at 3.00pm but were a little dismayed when we found the cafeteria had closed up for the day when we arrived. So we trecked over to another coffee shop which was quite pleasant and where we indulged in tea and some cakes. We got into converation with a couple we have often met in Waitrose before but typically on a Sunday. They regaled us with a long and involved story concerning their beloved little dog who had some very neurological condition and upon whom they had spent what to me appeared to be a small fortune. We had an interesting afternoon out and then returned home where I played some relaxing music and videos for Meg’s benefit. Tonight is going to be the New Zealand vs. Italy rugby match and although this ought to be a walkover for the All Blacks, unpredictable things can happen in this World Cup.

Meanwhile, the waves from the Braverman speech rumble on. Around a dozen Tory MPs, including ministers, have complained to the chief whip about Suella Braverman’s recent speech on immigration and refugees. Some have told the BBC her remarks were offensive, divisive and inaccurate. It is not the first time, MPs say, that there have been concerns about the home secretary’s tone. It is unclear exactly what will happen as a result of the complaints but it is expected government Chief Whip Simon Hart – who is in charge of party discipline – will relay the concerns to the prime minister. This is always going to be a dilemma for the Prime Minister as he is loathe to do anything that might offend the right wingers within the modern Conservative party. This was the wing of the Conserbative party that John Major called ‘bastards’ and eventually made them back down with a pledge to ‘back me or sack me’

We have to treat each day as it comes these days. Yesterday afternoon, as Meg had not been out for all of the day, we went for a little trip out in the car to see if our newsagent was still closed (he was!) and also to pay a flying visit to our friends down the road. We had surmised that they may have delayed in Ireland somewhat when they paid a recent visit and indeed, such was the case. Amongst other things, they had a bereavement in the family with which to cope and had stayed on for the funeral, which explains why our paths had not crossed for several days. I gave them a quick update on my news (explaining my non-attendance at the recent church committee meeting) and we agreed that we would have a get-together as soon as we could see our way clear. I explained that on Saturday, they would not see us at church because we would visiting Meg’s cousins in Cheltenham. I have been in contact with Meg’s cousins by text today to update them on Meg’s frailties and to make final arrangements for Saturday.

Last night, and as a consequence of our YouTube membership, we decided to play for ourselves one of our favourite operas which is the Glyndebourne production of Mozart’s ‘Marriage of Figaro‘ This is a 4 Act opera and is all a bit much, however enjoyable, for a single viewing. So we decided to watch the first two Acts yesterday and then get Meg ready for bed and this all worked out, as planned I am pleased to see. We reserved the final two Acts of the opera for a showing this afternoon and we still haven’t come to the end of it.
The plot is convoluted but has some hilarious moments. One of them comes in Act III when Dr Bartolo and his old housemaid Marcellina arrive looking for the Count as they they want to stop the wedding of Figaro and Suzanna. Marcellina has a contract which states that Figaro must repay money that he owes her or marry her himself. But after his protestations it emerges that Figaro is actually the long lost son of Marcellina and also of Dr. Bartolo and the hilarity of the scene comes about when members of the assembled cast sing in amazement upon the discovery ‘Su madre’ (your mother) and eventually ‘Su padre’ (your father) all of which has to be explained to Susanna and this gives the opportunity for a repeat of the ‘joke’ If this sounds convoluted, it is, but adds to the pleasure of it all once you have your mind around the plot and the glorious harmonies which build up from a duet to a trio to a quartet to a sextet of voices, all with thir private thoughts and emotions which none the less blend into the whole. Hence the magic of Mozart (for some of is, that is, but I recognise it is not to everyone’s taste)

There was an interesting letter in ‘The Times‘ the other day which was a practical joke played at a funeral. The man who had died, and with his wife’s full knowledge and consent, arranged for a very elegant and tastefully dressed young woman, dressed in a stunning hat and dark glasses to attend the funeral but to sit somewhat apart from the other mourners. The young woman (actually an actress) played her part and much of the discussion after the funeral was the identity of the young woman and whether she was actually a mistress of the deceased. Most of his work colleagues were taken in by this deception, so no doubt the deceased person had a good giggle from whatever vantage point he was now observing the proceedings. But this reminds me of the occasion when I was employed at De Montfort University in Leicester. One of our lecturers died, I believe of liver cancer which I think can take people away quite quickly in their middle age. In the church service, though, there were four women who were crying their eyes out, one of whom was his wife and the other three of whom were women with whom he had significant affairs – some of us (myself included) could not work out who was who.

The debate over immigration is raging just before the Conservative party conference. Our Home Secretary, Suella Braverman, has appeared before a very small right wing think tank in the United States arguing that the United Nations convention on refugees was no longer ‘fit for purpose’ Quite apart from her leadership ambitions, this whole venture is designed to fire a warning shot across the bows of the International Court before whom the legality of the ‘Removal to Rwanda’ policy is to be tested, with the implicit threat that the UK will leave the Convention unless it gets the result that it wants. Braverman claimed that’many’ would be migrants were claiming asylum on the grounds of persecution of their sexual orientation (although this is only mentioned in about 1.5% of cases) When rebuffed by the evidence, Braverman and her supporters claim that ‘many’ others use the ruse of persecution on the grounds of sexual orientation but when challened on actual numbers, answer comes there none but the argument shifts to a claim the import of which is that migrants will do anything to lie and cheat their way thrpough the system. All of this is of taken for granted by members of the Tory right, who may well push for her to become PM after Rishi Sunak’s almost inevitable defeat.

Today is a day that I like to describe as ‘chewy’ because we had nothing much on and the day seemed to be a little indeterminate as regards the weather. We had made a provisional plan to go to one of our favourite cafes in Droitwich just down the road but I judged that Meg seemed a little too wobbly when she got up this morning so it was probably better for us than we spent a quietish day at home. After we had got ourselves up and breakfasted, I made a lightning visit to Waitrose for some supplies and to to pick up my copy of ‘The Times’ I am a little distressed to learn from a sign on my usual newsagent’s door that they would be ‘closed for the time being because of a domestic emergency’ or similar so I wonder what has happened. I do hope that neither the newsagent nor his wife have been taken ill but I shall just have to keep the shop door under surveillance until such time as they can re-open. In the meanwhile, we amused ourselves this morning, if that is the right phrase, with a variety of TV presentations. For lunch, I raided our fridge as it is the day before our shopping day on a Thursday and made a lunch of parsnips, leeks in an onion sauce and some tomatoes cooked and flavoured with basil. What with on thing or another, I finished up with five saucepans on the go this morning which I can scarcely ever remember doing before so I must remember to do what I can on the microwave on another occasion. The meal was very tasty but I had prepared somewhat too much for Meg so I must train myself to give her two-thirds portions from now on as her energy needs are so much less than mine.

The big political news reported today is that the regulator has approved (and presumably the government concurs) with the RoseBank Ool and Gas field off the Shetland Isles. Sky News reports that the timing could hardly be any more provocative. Barely 24 hours after the International Energy Agency (IEA) reiterated in a new piece of analysis that there was no need for new oil or gas projects if the world is to get to net zero, Britain has approved the biggest new oilfield in more than a decade. Rosebank is not massive by global standards. It is expected to produce roughly 300 million barrels of oil, which makes it a relative minnow compared with some of the giant fields previously discovered and exploited in the North Sea (to put it into context, Brent produced about three billion barrels, so 10 times more). It will do little to change the overarching trend – that the UK is becoming more and more reliant on imported oil to power its economy. Indeed, it is quite likely that most of the oil produced at Rosebank will end up being exported to refineries overseas rather than processed in this country. Even so, it is the first major new field to be approved since the UK committed to hitting net zero carbon emissions by 2050. And it is symbolic in other senses too: it marks the opening of a new frontier in the North Sea. The question that I ask myself is whether this oil has to be burnt as a fuel, adding to the carbon emissions. A quick search of Google indicates that there are 6,000 products made from oil including solvents, ink, floor wax, ballpoint pens, upholstery, sweaters, boats, bicycle tyres, sports car bodies, nail polish, dresses, golf bags just to show some of the diversity of products involved. I do not know whether in the pursuit of a green economy, the petrochemical industry will need to evolve or completely transform itself. The growth in demand for petrochemical products means that petrochemicals are set to account for over a third of the growth in oil demand to 2030, and nearly half to 2050, ahead of trucks, aviation and shipping. This subject has hardly received any attention or political debate and parhaps because of the diversity of products manufactured from oil there is no simple solution. But you might have thought that the subject was worthy of some sort of analysis. But what I have learnt from some quick researches is the following.

By breaking the hydrocarbons in oil and natural gas into simpler compounds and then assembling those building blocks, scientists long ago learned to construct molecules of exquisite complexity. Fossil fuels are not just the feedstock for those reactions; they also provide the heat and pressure that drive them. As a result, industrial chemistry’s use of petroleum accounts for 14% of all greenhouse gas emissions. Now, growing numbers of scientists and, more important, companies think the same final compounds could be made by harnessing renewable energy instead of digging up and rearranging hydrocarbons and spewing waste carbon dioxide (CO2) into the air. First, renewable electricity would split abundant molecules such as CO2, water, oxygen (O2), and nitrogen into reactive fragments. Then, more renewable electricity would help stitch those chemical pieces together to create the products that modern society relies on and is unlikely to give up. Chemists in academia, at startups, and even at industrial giants are testing processes—even prototype plants—that use solar and wind energy, plus air and water, as feedstocks. One company, in Berkeley, has designed a washing machine–size device that uses electricity to convert water and CO2 from the air into fuels and other molecules, with no need for oil. At the other end of the commercial scale is Siemens, the manufacturing conglomerate based in Munich, Germany. That company is selling large-scale electrolyzers that use electricity to split water into O2 and hydrogen (H2), which can serve as a fuel or chemical feedstock. Even petroleum companies such as Shell and Chevron are looking for ways to turn renewable power into fuels.

Today being a Tuesday, Meg and I were looking forward to the little chats we have with the Tuesday morning in the Waitrose cafeteria. One of our number was there and we were joined a bit later by one of other friends but a third friend was off doing her bowling and hence couldn’t meet us this morning. It was fortunate that I had my mobile with me because I got a telephone call halfway through our coffee from Social Services with whom we are organising some support for Meg. Today is the day in which I normally attend a Pilates session but I judged that I could not make the session this week. Also, every so often we have a committee meeting in our local church which I am required to attend but I sent an ‘Apologies for absence’ and an email of explanation for the fact that I was not able to attend this evening. On consulting my emails this afternoon, I have have received a very sympathetic and heart warming response from the chairman to whom I sent my apologies and it is always a little reassuring to know that you are in other people’s thoughts.

We normally like to tune in to the daily Politics programme each day on BBC2 and today was an examination of some of the issues facing the Liberal Democrats who are in conference this week and also the Conservatives who are in conference next week. The interesting thing about the whole HS2 cancellation row, which is rumbling on, is that it might not be possible to announce any cutback in the programme just yet as the Conference is going to be held in Manchester which is not the best of venues in which to announce that the Manchester to Birmingham leg was about to be cancelled. It used to be said that ‘middle of the road’ Tory MPs hated going to the annual conference because they needed to rub shoulders with members of constituencies whose political stance is always far to the right of their own. They had to ostensibly pay obeisance to overtly right wing viewpoints with which they were not naturally in sympathy but they did not dare not attend in case they were sanctioned by their own local constituency association. The fringe meetings outside the main conference used to see dominated by the those of the likes of Boris Johnson at the time he was garnering support from those interested delegates before he eventually became the Prime Minister. So the Tory party conference is always reasonably interesting for those interested in the political process and whilst one is well used to the Labour Party having lots of internal splits and divisions, the same is also true of divisions in the modern Tory party particularly over Europe and Brexit and is not supposed to be true of the party who like to think that they are singing from the same hymn sheet. In practice, the divisions in the Tory party were bitter and deep but Boris Johnson tried to put an end to all of that by withdrawing the whip (ie throwing out of the party) all of the moderate and Remain minded MPs.

After lunch this afternoon, Meg and I thought we would catch up on one of the most interesting Prom concerts which was a rendition of Mozart’s Requiem but with a ballet accompaniments. I am not sure that this really came off because whilst the choreography and individual performances seemed well enough, the various balletic movements seemed somehow to jar with the essential spirit of the Requiem. One has to experiment in the Arts, I suppose, but sometimes it doesn’t really quite work. But afterwards, there was a follow-on programme on the BBC’s iPlayer called Making Music English. In this, historian Amanda Vickery and broadcaster Tom Service unearthed the fascinating story of the lifelong friendship between composers Ralph Vaughan Williams and Gustav Holst. A lot of the music was familiar to Meg and myself but having it contextualised in the time period of just pre-WWI to the 1920s was absolutely fascinating. The programme documented the forging of a distinctive musical genre that was both backward looking and evocative – probably the best known piece from this time period is the Vaughan Wlliams composition of ‘The Lark Ascending‘ which practically always topped the ClassicFM charts when listeners were allowed to vote for their favourites.

Sometimes, I take the long range weather forecasts with a pinch of salt but this year, things may be a little different. A mini heatwave is being predicted for us in mid-October so it might just be that after a truly terrible summer, we are getting something that compensates us a little. It is making me wonder whether it is worth contemplating a few extra long days out somewhere before the clocks change and whilst we have the promise of some warm, autumn sunshine. I have always quite enjoyed the autumnal period because in the course of my life, I have always started either a new job or a new venture in September/October. As the year progresses, though, I do count off the days until the shortest day in December 21st because I feel happier when I know that the days are getting longer rather than shorter. One has to live through ‘Trick and Treat’ first, though, which to my mind I rather deplore as a quasi-American import.

So Monday morning morning has dawned again and we had several little shopping type trips planned for this morning. The day did not start off particularly well, though, as we went to collect our newspaper only to be greeted by a little note on the door that the newsagent would not be available until 11.15. So we went on our way, picking up some supplies from Waitrose and then reparking the car at the other end of the High Street to see what the AgeUk furniture shop had to offer. There I did see a type of walker technically called, I believe, a rollator with two wheels at the front and two feet at the rear and as this was only £5,I hoped it might help Meg’s mobility issues. So this I acquired and then went on to a further suburban shop run by AgeUk where I picked up a large face wall clock that I needed (also for Meg) We called in at the newsagent on the way home but he was still closed. Upon my return home, I needed to do a little clean up job on my two purchases. The clock worked out fine after a new battery was fitted but the rollator was a bit of a disaster because Meg could not quite get the knack of how to use it. Then I made a further trip to the newsagent (but to no avail) and then got on with lunch. After lunch and another fruitless visit to pick up my newspaper, which was my fourth visit of the day, I bowed to the inevitable and bought my newspaper from Waitrose. After that, we knew that our chiropodist was due to call and so our feet have been seen to for another month. She did tell me about a local yoga teacher whose classes she has been attending for years and who also has an online presence so having got the details, I may do a bit of investigation as it is getting so problematic to attend my Pilates classes these days. After lunch, I wanted to watch again the whole of the second half of the Wales vs. Australia game, if only because Wales scored a stunning victory of 40:6, effectively knocking Australia out of the World Cup and inflicting the largest defeat against a northern hemisphere club, surpassing the 53-24 loss to Scotland in 2017. The BBC website wonders whether Wales were that good as they beat the previous best 25-point margin of victory against Australia? Or were the Wallabies that woeful, with former England boss Jones left to face the music as Australia lurch towards World Cup oblivion? It was probably both of these factors but given the pre-emince of Australia in years gone by, this defeat must be very hard to bear.

The Liberal Democrats are in conference this week – and although normally ignored by much of the Main Street Media, this year it is somewhat different because in the event of a tight election, their role could be piviotal. Sir Ed Davey has hinted his party would be prepared to do a post-election deal with Labour to prevent the Conservatives from forming a government. Speaking to Sky News’ political editor Beth Rigby at the Liberal Democrats annual conference, the leader categorically ruled out any agreement with the Tories, saying his party could ‘play a critical role’ in removing them from power. But pushed over whether he would consider some form of deal with Labour, Sir Ed appeared to be keeping his options more open, saying instead he would not ‘speculate what else may happen after polling day’. It could be that the Liberal Democrats pose a severe threat to the Tories in the (prosperous) South of England that would never normally consider voting Labour whilst the Labour Party may be able to recapture some of its traditional heartlands in the Midlands and the North of England. We are definitely in a pre-election mode at the moment and one feels that every move that the government makes is calibrated upon how it will play with the electorate particularly in marginal and the ‘red wall’ seats. As regards the HS2 imbroglio, it is now being argued that at the very least Manchester and Leeds (only 40 miles apart but with the Pennines in the way) would have benefitted from a really fast rail link and then HS2 should have started from the North and then pressed southwards instead of the other way around. I seem to recall that in Spain, the Socialist government in office at the time pressed ahead with a really fast rail link between Madrid and Seville and with a non standard guage as well. But most commentators have argued that at the end of the day when the financial costs and benefits are evaluated that the capital city, Madrid, benefitted far more from the high speed link than vice versa. What I suspect really ‘did for’ HS2 was the fact that opeople living in the Chilterns and other desirable places en route exacted such a heavy price in the demand for tunnelling, compensation, landscaping and goodness knows what else that the costs escalated to the extent that they have. But ex-ministers like Anna Soubry have argued that even since Victorian times there have been cost overruns on infrastructure projects but the country has always benefitted in the long run. But a high-speed link between London and Birmingham only is either a bad joke, a white elephant or the desire to make the UK the laughing stock of the world.

Today after we had got up, it was evident that Meg was in too frail to attend the craft centre nearby to us where we intended to meet up with our University of Birmingham friend for a Sunday morning coffee. But then at just before 10.30 we received a text from one of my nieces who had intended to attend the baptism of two of her grandchildren (one of them delayed because of the COVID pandemic) But fate had intervened in a cruel way because although she had intended to visit the ‘happy, clappy’ Anglican Church in Gateshead where the baptisms were scheduled to take place. But courtesy of the primary school where my niece teaches, she contracted COVID and a journey to the baptism was now out of the question. But the church itself had made available a live feed of its services over YouTube and so it was possible for my niece (and also my sister and Meg and I) to witness the baptisms which, as you might imagine, was quite an emotional experience for us. Afterwards, my sister and I had quite a long FaceTime chat which we will probably do most Sunday’s and exchanged news about the types of services provided by the churches where the church ‘comes to you’ rather than the other way round, as it were, as ministers visit the house every so often to provide a miniaturised service for the sick and housebound.

We had a fairly traditional Sunday lunch of roast beef (cooked in the slow cooker), with the complement of a baked potato and some broccoli. Afterwards, Meg and I knew that we were going to watch the rugby and the evening but we decided to treat ourselves to a film which we pretty sure we had available to us as part of our Amazon ‘Prime’ membership. This film was called ‘The Way’ and it was a story filmed from a book, about the journey made by an American doctor who had lost his son who had met with his death whilst travelling along the Camino de Santiago in the French Pyrenees. His father decided to complete the Camino (and hence the title of the film) on his son’s behalf carrying his son’s ashes with him. On the way, he acquires some travelling companions and whilst these might be slightly larger than life, the things that happen to the travelling companions en route were quite credible. The journey has an incredibly emotional ending which I will not specify for anyone who wants to view the film for themselves and see how it ends but suffice to say that I actually wept buckets at the end. So Meg and I have quite an emptionally charged day what with one thing or another but we are currently enjoying Scotland getting the better of Tonga in the World Cup. But the match to view today is undoubtedly Wales vs. Australia and I would have normally backed Australia but who knows in this particular World Cup. We are now approaching the end of the pool stage and will be moving towards the quarter finals in which every game from now one will be a knockout game. One great source of disappointment for all rugby fans is that the outstanding French fly-half, Dupont, sustained a cheekbone injury in a recent match and has already had some corrective surgery. This will keep Dupont out of the competition for several more rounds and perhaps for the rest of the World Cup.

The big political news today is the story that the Tory government of Rishi Sunak is thinking of abandoning the HS2 High Speed line which means that if the Birmingham to Manchester leg is not completed, then we could have a high speed line that only covers a half of its intended length leaving the North completely adrift. Of course there are cost overruns but there were in the case of Crossrail across London which did not stop the project and there now even talk of a Crossrail2. I heard Andy Burnham, the mayor of Greater Manchester, furious with anger that big infrastructure projects affecting the North are regarded as problematic, so we could end up with a nation with updated rail projects in the South and a basically Victorian railway infrastructure in the North. Whilst all the signs are that HS2 will be ditched by the Tories, the Labour party is being a little coy about whether it still fully supports the project – for example, there is not a commitment from the Labour Party to immediately restore the abandoned Birmingham to Manchester link were they to gain power. There are even hints that a mjor Tory donor is reconsidering his support for the party if a major infrastructure is abandoned, despite the costs.

A NASA capsule carrying the largest sample ever collected from an asteroid has returned to Earth. The capsule, which landed in the Utah desert at 3.52pm, contained around 250g of rocks and dust collected from asteroid Bennu as part of NASA’s Osiris-Rex mission. The significance of all of this is that materials gathered from the asteroid may give some clues about the formation of our own earth and solar system. If there is any evudence of any organic molecules, this would prove to be tremendously exciting and could point to the fact that the origins of life itself might have been brought to earth by a visiting asteroid – not a scenario out of science fiction but a hypothesis actually entertained by some astronomers and astrophysicists.