I got up at an early hour this morning and spent some time getting all of my Christmas card impedimenta (spare cards, envelopes, news labels, address labels, address books and so on) neatly put away for next year. Because getting the Christmas cards is always done in rush, then I find that all of this has to be tidied up at a later date and that later date is today. I need to ensure that everything is ship shape so that when the season comes along next year, I will be ready for the off.
Today was my normal shopping day at Aldi’s but when I got there at one minute to eight, I witnessed an extraordinary sight. There was a queue of about 20 people (mainly young men) and the minute that the store opened, there was a dash for one particular carousel in which a special sports drink, called ‘Prime’ was being made available in a special promotion. The special drink advertised as a ‘hydration drink’, contains mostly water added with vitamins and minerals and has few calories with no added sugar. I was told by a staff member that the drink sold at £10 but was retailed at Aldi for £1.99. This appears to have been a demand completely artifically created by social media (TicToc for example). It seems incredible to report this but according to Google, some people have been queuing since 6.00am this morning at some stores to acquire the drink and the queue has amounted to hundreds in other stores. The regular shoppers and I exchanged some mutters in which the common sentiment was that the world had gone mad, that people had more money than sense and similar sentiments. This should have been a fairly light week after the heavy Christmas shop of last week but as we are having neigbours around we needed to buy some types of party food and some extra alcohol such as a white, a red and a Prosecco to cater for all tastes.

After breakfast, Meg and I went on the road to a furniture warehouse which both receives and sells second hand furniture. We need a small occasional table for a particular use but when we got to the warehouse, it was evidently closed. It looks as though they may not start normal business for a few days so shall have to keep my desires in check for a few days yet. Then we returned home to have our elevenses at home. This afternoon, our son and daughter-in-law are due to call around so we did a bit of a tidy up before they arrived. Then we had an interesting afternoon, consuming some of a special sweet they had brought with them whilst we showed them some of the ways in which we had equipped and now use the room which we have now christened as ‘the music room’ My daughter-in-law and I spent some time discussing two outstanding documentaries that we just happened to see on the same channel last night. The first of these was an examination of the Bayeux tapestry in the light of modern knowledge and scientific research. By examining the tools of the craftsmen, for example, one can learn by what methods their long boats were constructed. The second program was fronted by Chris Packham (the naturalist) on the subject of Tyrannosaurus Rex. We now have the accumulation of much more scientific research that argues that this dinosaur’s history needs to be re-thought. For example, the absolute crushing force of the dinasaurs jaws has now been convincingly calculated. It is also probable that the dinosaur’s gait owes more to birds than to mammals and the huge tail was probably used as a counter-weight to the enormous head whilst it was running.

We have a situation in which travellers coming from China are not, as yet, tested when they enter the UK. It is now known that the main airport in the Italian city of Milan started testing passengers arriving from Beijing and Shanghai on 26 December and discovered that almost half of them were infected. So are we risking missing new variants by not testing people from COVID hotspots? The UK, which was led by PM Boris Johnson when the pandemic took hold in 2020, has been criticised for its handling of the public health crisis, having been slow to spot the infections arriving and late with a lockdown compared to other major countries. The big worry for scientists and officials is new variants entering the UK which could be more virulent and more contagious than the ones already circulating. My own guess on all of this, and it is only a guess, is that the UK will impose restrictions but maybe it is a case of ‘too little – too late’

Tomorrow will be quite a full day for us as we have accepted an invitation for coffee in the morning with our French friend down the road. We have a slight clash of engagements as we also got an invite to visit our Irish friends who happen to live next door but we will have to seize another opportunity whilst we can. We are then entertaining our new neightbours from across the green who only moved in a week ago so this will prove to be a useful ‘getting to know each other’ afternoon tea.

The weather today has been wet and windy all day, but not particularly cold although unpleasant enough. After Meg and I had breakfasted, we made a little excursion along Bromsgrove High Street to buy a few things not available in the supermarket. We made a trip to the Age Concern furniture shop wondering if they have a small occasional table for which we have a need. As is often the case, the only thing we really fancied was already sold (and at a very good price just to rub salt into the wound) Undeterred, we pressed onto the well known Cobblers shop which had sold me a replacement watch strap a week or so ago. This had never functioned exactly as it should have done as the central spigot was just a tad too short which meant that it would not engage properly in its intended ‘hole’ thus popping out and rendering the watch strap (and hence the watch) unusuable. In the shop, the assistant confirmed our diagnosis that there was probably a manufacturing fault but rather than suppling us with a new watch strap just replaced the buckle at the end (which I did not know you could do). This now works perfectly and the shop replaced the buckle free of charge to us (they have an excellent reputation for quality service – I use them to glue back the leather band which runs around the rim of my leather hat when it works its way loose after a year or so) We then proceeded on our way and bought some cosmetics from one of the stores we use regularly in the High Street. So we proceeded back home to warm ourselves up with a packet soup in a cup before we started to prepare lunch. On our way into our house, we noticed that our new neighbour was bobbling about doing some outside work and so we seized the opportunity to ask him amd his wife around for the traditional Christms tea-with-neighbours (mince pies and sherry?) and they confirmed later in a phone call that they can pop around on Friday, to which we can look forward.

This afernoon, there was broadcast the full length feature film of ‘Dad’s Army’ with the original cast and although we had seen this several times before, it was the kind of film in which you can read in the background or what have you if you did not want to give the film your undivided attention. The scene in which two German airmen parachuted out of their stricken plane reminds me of story that I was told whilst I was resident in Hampshire in the South of England. The story was told that in the Battle of Britain a young German airman was shot down and the location of the parachute was located on neighbouring moorland by the local group of fierce women who provided a type of territorial defence source. These doughty women made their way rapidly to the location of the young airman who who was obviously terrified and knowing that he could not evade capture, he put up his hands as the universal signature of surrender and cried out ‘Don’t shoot’ The reply from the monstrous regiment of women was quintessentially English and was to the effect ‘We do not do that kind of thing – we are British. Would you like a cup of tea?’

A fairly extraordinary event is unfolding within the confines of China, with the rest of the world looking on in a kind of fascinated horror. With China’s strict zero-Covid policy scrapped, the virus has swept through the country, leaving over 50% of the population of Beijing thought to have been infected – and the city’s hospitals are feeling the strain. There are a few videoclips of patiets lying on the floors of hospital wards as there are insufficient beds and there is an assumption that 50% of the patients will die of COVID. The root of the problem lies in the fact that the Chinese relied upon an exceptionally strict lockdown policy in order to contain the virus, trying to stamp out transmission by effectively confining people to their houses for weeks at a time. As this was the major thrust of policy, comparatively little effort was paid to vaccinating the population – the elderly were left very unvaccinnated compared with us in the West and the Chinese elderly population were in any case a little suspicious of Western technology, favouring of course traditional Chinese medicine. The Chinese authorities are now reaping the whirldwind and one wonders whether they import much superior vaccines developed in the West at the risk of losing considerable face or whether they are prepared to watch their population die in hundreds of thousands. Presumably, this is quite a risk to the rest of the world as well and several countries are already insisting on a COVID free certificate before it will admit visitors from China. The Chinese, paradoxically, are soon to relax all of the controls upon their citizens travelling abroad so we have the possibility of a significant source of infection to the rest of the world. The attitude of the World Health Organisation seems unclear and I have not heard of any announcements from them to date.

Today being a Tuesday, we normally have two regular commitments but I have no Pilates class today, as my Pilates teacher is having a well-deserved break with her family. Instead, we knew that we would probably bump into old friends in our local Waitrose coffee bar, which indeed we did. First, though, we took the opportunity to pop the car into an adjacent car washing lot run by a group of Kurds and, anticipating that they might be very busy, we did not mind leaving the car with them for an hour whilst we had our coffee. In the event, the car wash was practically empty so we made our way into Waitrose where we met two of pur pre-pandemic friends, to be joined a little later by our University of Birmingham friend. At this time of year, many people were in a relaxed state and our friends were no exception so we spent a very jolly hour laughing and joking over goodness knows what. Some of our collective memories go back to the 1960s so we regaled each other with stories of some of the exploits of ourselves and our friends when we were young and fancy free. Eventually, we made for home and a rustled together lunch, some of which was the final consumption of the vegetables excess to Christmas Day and just requiring a quick heat up in the oven.

The quality television viewing for today starts at about 5.00pm with a filmed Jane Austin (‘Persuasion‘)which has good reviews in ‘The Times‘. This afternoon there seems a diet of ‘Carry On’ films in which innuendo is displayed to excess and which one does not particularly watch as such but have on in the background whilst one engages in reading or other activities. As I write, there is a transmission of what can only be ‘Carry On Up the Jungle‘ ridiculous in the extreme. For example, out of the corner of my eye, I can see a nubile young woman divesting herself of her clothes in order to go for a swim whereas they are are appropriately appropriated and then worn by a passing gorilla. On wonders what the audience figures might be but I suppose they were relatively cheap to make even half a century ago and there must be some people who have never seen them before and find them even faintly amusing. Incidentally, a very quick Google search did reveal that Barbara Windsor and Sid James had an affair that started off with ‘Carry On’ films that lasted for about ten years altogether. In her autobiography, Barbara Windsor confesses to quickies with a string of men including gangsters Reggie and Charlie Kray, Ronnie Scott of jazz club fame), entertainer Anthony Newley and Bing Crosby’s son Gary. She also had a one night stand with George Best about which she kept silent for at least ten years.

I have got to say that I rather like this time of year when Christmas Day has both come and gone and one is free to relax from the pressures of having to prepare for Christmas but before ‘normal’ life returns just after New Year’s day. I know that our University of Birmingham friend feels just about the same and Christmas has no particular attractions for him. I can well understand how he feels and I promised to buy him a ‘Bah! Humbug’ Christmas hat if I happen to see one. I only mention this because when we were up in Yorkshire recently, a photo was being passed around of my brother-in-law who died just over a year ago wearing a cap, complete with slogan, so I suppose he felt the same way. I seem to remember a few years ago, Channel 4 which is meant to provide a more alternative form of TV, provided an alternative form of Christmas entertainment for those for whom Christmas is a period of the year to be got over with as quickly as possible. This seems to have been a very good idea and I wonder why the idea did not achieve a bit more permanence.

There are some traditions, though, that persist over the course of time. One of the most famous is a short British cabaret sketch from the 1920s that has become a German New Year’s tradition. Yet, although ‘The 90th Birthday or Dinner for One’ is a famous cult classic in Germany and several other European countries, it is virtually unknown in the English-speaking world, including Britain, its birthplace. This has become so much of German culture that it is shown every single year without fail but the interesting thing is that hardly anybody in the UK knows about it. No doubt a Google search will reveal it and a link to it. In the meanwhile, we have traditions of our own such as Boxing Day sales, not to mention the Boxing Day meets of ‘the hunt’ One observation that I read on this was words to the effect that if members of deprived, working class communities went rampaging through the streets hunting ‘vermin’ such as ‘foxes’ then the full force of the law would be brought against them. But somehow, the norms are different when it is the British upper middle classes, mounted on horseback and doing essentially the same thing.

Well, we survived Christmas Day all right. As the results of most of terrestial TV were so poor (and for some indiscernible reason our television refused to let me have access to any programs over the net), we finished off on the Drama Channel watching ‘The 39 steps’ adventure film. Although we had seen this twice before, the plot is full of twists and turns and also worth a look even for the umpteenth time. Today, the sky was beautiful and clear but there was quite a sharp nip in the air. We collected our newspaper and then made for the park. Meg was feeling the cold somewhat so although we had prepared a hot drink for our elevenses, we did one circuit of the park and then retreated home in order to enjoy our comestibles in the comfort of our own home. Lunch today was very easy to prepare as I had a lot of vegetables cooked yesterday that just required a re-heating in the oven and we had the remains of the beef to work our way through. After lunch, I actually quite enjoyed one of the many black and white war films which the channels are wont to show at this time of year. This one was ‘Sink the Bismarck’ and it was quite an interesting watch. Much praised for its historical accuracy when it was made in 1960, it focussed as much on the background planning as it did the actual operations in the theatre of war. Several of the actors who featured in the film had actually seen service during the World War II. One thing, in particular, that struck me about the film was that at the moment of destruction of the Bismarck, there was no overt triumphalism either amongst the crew of the attaching British frigates nor in the backroom planners, directing the operations. The film also portrayed that the conflict was not without loss as HMS Hood, then the biggest British warship, was sunk in the early stages of the conflict. Also, I had not realised that aircraft carriers were deployed during WWII and they carried a big cumbersome biplane called the Swordfish which, nonetheless, proved quite effective in softening up the Bismarck before the warships moved in for the final kill.

Almost inevitably, when the days are short and the nights are still long, the festive period is still quite reliant upon the TV to provide the population with some entertainment. Tonight, though, is is going to be the first of the Royal Institution Christmas lectures aimed at teenagers but still of interest to the adult population. The series of three programmes are to be given by a forensic scientist so these might prove quite interesting given the advances that have taken place particularly in the fields of DNA analysis. The newspapers at this time of year are inevitably a little on the thin side but one particular feature in ‘The Times’ caught my eye. Readers had been asked to send in alternatives to the King’s message and the published contributions were hilarious. The ones that particularly caught my eye were the contributions from Larry T. Cat, the resident Downing Street moggie wth gems such as ‘That man and his dog had to go. They were loud, feckless and sometimes flatulent’ Other contributions were published from Paddington Bear, Dylan the Dog, Meghan Sussex and Vladimir Putin amongst others. There was also a fascinating article which also gave one pause for thought. There was an account of a British biotech firm which is attempting innonative new approaches in modern healthcare. They take as their starting point that often in medical science, one has a person has become sick then there is an attempt to explore what it is that is making them ill in the first place and then search for a cure or a remedy to combat the disease/illness. The approach of the biotech firm was to turn this paradigm on its head,as it were, by posing the question ‘What is it about those are who are long-lived or well into their old age that keeps them so fit?’ They raise the possibility that they are attempting to explore that perhaps some infection that they had acquired earier in their life had so tweaked their immune system that more serious illnesses, even including various cancers, can be repelled or mitigated? This appears to be an extremely interesting and novel approach and I wish the firm every success if it starts to nibble away at what might be said to constitute ‘the elixir of life’ There is also the paradox that some people lead particularly unhealthy life styles instead of diet and exercise and survive into ripe old age whilst yet others try to look after themselves but fall at an early age.

At this time of year, there are often ‘review of the year’ type programmes and Sky News, for one, is attempting this kind of analysis. There used to be a programme broadcast called ‘photograph of the year’ or something similar and month by month the photogapher who had taken a particularly iconic photo explained the circumstances that lay behind their fortune in being at the right place at the right time to capture the mood or story of the moment.

Well, Christmas Day has arrived and I must say that it almost seems like reaching an oasis in the desert, once the pre-Christmas rush has completely subsided. We got up at about the normal time and sent text mssages principally to our family to wish them well. Once we had got breakfast out of the way, we spent a certain amount of time FaceTiming first our own son and his wife and then my sister. I must say that in our initial messages, my sister seemed a little down as she is feeling the loss of her husband quite keenly. Although she lost him about 13 months ago, last Christmas felt like a bit of a blur to her but this Christmas, she was feeling her loss so much more keenly. However, I hoped that in the contact with my sister, we managed to cheer ourselves up a bit. In particular, my sister gave me details of an advance copy she has just received of her grand-daughters soon-to-be published novel, which is due for an official launch in late January. I was read some of the acknowledgements and dedications in the book in which various members of the family received copipous mentions. To some extent, this was a source of consolation to my sister and quite an interesting Christmas present in in its own right. After getting detail of it, I got onto Amazon and ordered a pre-publication copy of the book guaranteed delivery and price after the official launch) My sister is going to journey up to Newcastle where there is going to be an official launch by Penguin Books, probably in a bookshop. So it will be an interesting read when it arrives – to what extent is there a bit of autobiography baked into it, I ask myself?

Cooking of the Christmas dinner is always a question of logistics. Fortunately, the veg had been prepared yesterday afternoon and the beef (our preferred choice on Christmas day) was started in the slow cooker at 7.30am this morning. After that, it just a question of when to start off what. Meg and I finished off our last little drop of genuine Manzanilla (type of Fino sherry) and then I started food preparation at about 11.30. I was assisted by recently discovering a CD of ‘good’ Christmas music by which I mean music especially composed for or relevant at Christmas time but not carols as such. I particularly enjoyed some Bach, Handel, Palestrina and a Berlioz favourite, often played on ClassicFM, which is ‘The shepherds farewell’. On the spur of the moment, I decided that we would eat in our dining room instead of the kitchen where we often eat when there are only the two of us. So I set the table with our special cutlery and lit some little electronic type candles to add to the atmosphere. My recently liberated little inherited Sony music centre sits nicely on a black plastic tray and is such is highly transportable. So I popped this into the dining room and we had some of our favourite music playing to accompany the meal. Christmas dinner worked out absolutely fine with nothing either under or over-cooked and no culinary disasters. However, I do have a failing to which I freely admit and that is that I tend to prepare Christmas dinners that are just a tad too large. To complement the beef, Yorkshire pudding, parsnips, carrorts and sprouts with chestnuts I did have some ‘herby’ type pre-cooked potatoes that just need a quick microwaving. But in the event, there was not space enough on the plate so this will will have to wait until dinner tomorrow (ingredients of which are all already prepared)

Later on this afternoon, I fitted out a spare wire aerial I had to the Sony system (having ‘liberated’ its own aerial to make the Panasonic system usable) and it worked very well. I then spent a certain amount of time getting the presets the way that I wanted – this required a quick consultation with the manual but in the event I got it working just fine. To be honest, I tend only to listen to three stations regularly so I am pleased to have this system working the way I want. I am now in two minds whether to keep the system transportable as it were or make a more permanent location in our lounge but I will have a think about this. I have to say that the fare on the TV today has been particularly dire – many of the comedy programms are half a century old and whereas in the past there was often an opera or a ballet on the TV at this time, it looks as though this year is going to be a disappointment.

I have not seen the new King’s Christmas message to the nation but only excerpts of it on the news. But already there is talk that praising the role of the public services at this particular time is straying into the ‘political’ I always thought that subtle political messages were conveyed by the monarch’s broadcast although not party political. It may be that the new King had decided to be somewhat less anodyne but a pity if the powers that be get offended at this stage.

Well, Christmas Eve has arrived and in some ways this is a day of blessed release in that what has not been done will remain undone for the time being. The only remaining task today was to post various Christmas cards through the letter boxes of friends who live down the road. The card should, in all honesty, have accompanied the bottles of damson gin distributed yesterday but they had been ‘forgotten’ in the rush. Halfway through the morning, we got a telephone call from our domestic help who indicated that one of her senior elves (aka her husband) was on his way round to deliver a Christmas present to us, some of which consist of some of home baking for us to enjoy. At the same time, I managed to share some of the supplies of vermouth with her which was desperately needed for some cocktails but could not be got for love nor money at short notice. I also let her have some of the special biscuits which our new neighbours kindly gave us us a present. I trust her judgement in helping to decode the interesting flavour but I have a feeling is probably a combination of both ginger and cinnamon. After this visit, Meg and I made our towards town, delivering the last of the Christmas cards and picking up our daily newspaper. Of course, tomorrow being Christmas day it is a non-publishing day but I always think it slightly strange that the production staff on newspapers have to work on Christmas Day to produce a newspaper for Boxing Day. We had not visited the park and sat on the park bench for what must a couple of weeks but as it was a fine day, but cold, we prepared some elevenses and sat in the park to consume them. On our way out of the park, we met up again with a lady who we know by sight but whose name I did not know until I enquired further. She said that she hd not seen us in the park for some time but we pointed out that with the spell of cold weather, we had tended to avoid the park and to drink coffee in the warmth of the Waitrose cafe as well as having been away for a few days. We exchanged some gossip about the huge new housing development which is now taking place on a bare hillside not far from her house – why this area was never designated as ‘Green belt’ in the past I do not know. We were both wondering whether when hundreds of new houses are built but the road network remains substantially the same, whether an additional 2.5 cars per household (both parents and eventually teenagers when they acquire a licence) might mean that Bromsgrove becomes one of the first towns in the country to be absolutely gridlocked in the rush hours with nobody going anywhere.

We had a simple lunch this lunchtime and then at 3.00pm I engaged in the traditional task of preparing the vegetables for the Christmas meal tomorrow, accompanied by the annual service of carols and readings from King’s College, Cambridge which is always broadcast at 3.00pm on Christmas Eve. My mother, whem she was alive, used to say that Christmas started at this point of time and on this occasion, I agree with her. The preparation seemed to be be concluded quite quickly and I do not think I have forgotten anything vital. I have tried to make the Christmas dinner not too big this year which is a constant fault of mine to which I admit being prone. We are going to leave a quarter of an hour earlier to attend the church service this evening as I suspect a full house for a change. The church was eventually filled to the rafters, as you would expect at Christmas and Easter. But we had a duo (guitar + vocalist) who were playing/singing Christmas carols. As you might expect, the service was longer than usual with several of the usual Christmas additions. Most Christian services at this time are heavy on symbolism and even to the convinced atheist or agnostic one can always appreciate the symbolism of the transition from darkness into light. In our church, this is evidenced by the church in semi-darkness until such time as the child Christ is taken from the crib at the back of the church and brought up to the altar (symbolising birth)and the lights are gradually restored. We were delighted to see two old friends who used to attend the Saturday evening service but have now transferred their allegiances elsewhere. One is a Geordie and the other a Liverpudlian and they are both great chatter boxes. I had the forethought to take some Christmas cards with me (signed inside but not addressed to anyone) and I was pleased I could pass them onto old friends. We returned home to a really nice soup I had found in the supermarket (chicken and smoked bacon) and then we finished off with ardennes pate and roquefort cheese so we felt we had had a rather superior homecoming to our normal fare on a Saturday evening.

Today has been quite an interesting day. We allowed ourselves a little bit of a lie-in this morning and then realised that we were probably going to meet up with friends in Waitrose cafe so decided to get our skates on. It was raining this morning and not the best morning for delivering Christmas presents – nonetheless as we made our progress down the road, we delivered two lots of damson vodka and damson gin to some of our nearest neighbours and another three lots of the same spirit to some of our more distant frinds before making for our newsagent. I had written a Christmas card for him but although I remember writing it, I do not remember actually delivering it. The message that I put inside was something like ‘Thank you for all of your magnificant service during every day of last year’ and suddenly I got smitten with a degree of self-doubt.If I had actually written this, to whom had I actually delivered it? I just hope it wasn’t one of my female friends or acquaintances who was the recipient of the message. To show I am not the only one going a little ga-ga during this Christmas season, we actually received two Christmas cards from our Italian friend down the road. One was a huge and magnificent card received about ten days ago whilst the other was a more conventional card popped through the letter box just today so our friend, too, was getting confused about whether we had been the recipient of a card or not. I was pleased to be lightened of the delivery of my bottles of cheer even through the pouring rain and then Meg and I made for Waitrose cafe where we were soon joined by our University of Birmingham friend. We had an interesting chat about some films and other programs we had seen on PBS America. This is broadcast on Channel 84 Freeview and, according to Google, ‘PBS America showcases the best of Americas Public Broadcasting Service, with a rich factual schedule including landmark history series by Ken Burns (Vietnam War, Jazz, The Civil War), FRONTLINEs in-depth current affairs investigations and NOVAs science documentaries.’ When we have tuned into it for the sake of anything better, there seems to be a preponderance of material relating to past world conflicts and I do not recall any science documentaries but perhaps better luck in the future. After our friend departed, we took the opportunity to buy some extra Christmassy type things like extra supplies of sherry in case any of the neighbours pop around, some French vermouth which I needed to make myself a good dry martini on Christmas day morning and I found some chestnuts as well.

Meg and I had a fish-based ready meal which we enjoyed with ‘cavolo nero’ kale which seems to go particularly well with fish and then we settled down to watch some afternoon Christmas TV, We had just started watching a modern day version of ‘Call of the Wild’. I had not realised before that this book is one of quite deep meaning. It is a story of transformation in which the old Buck— the civilized, moral Buck— must adjust to the harsher realities of life in the frosty North, where survival is the only imperative. Although not a true story, Jack London’s novel is a fictional adventure novel. However, London did spend time in the Yukon area before writing this novel, so his descriptions of the area are accurate and realistic. The novel is now 117 years old but a cuddly, animal story it is not, nor is it meant to be. The novel is quite a savage commentary on modern life but we did not have time to digest any of the deeper significance of the story because after about ten minutes or so, the doorbell rang and it was one of our new (Asian) neighbours coming to introduce herself. Yesterday afternoon, we had bumped into her husband and givem him a bottle of wine and a Christmas card. Today, she was reciprocating but with a wonderful box of biscuits which we enjoyed over a cup of tea. When time permits after Christmas we promised ourselves a more intimate sherry-and-mince pies type of get together where we can get to know each other better. I think we are going to have an enjoyable set of new neighbours. They have three grown up sons all working in the area but spend a certain amount of time back in India where they spend some 2-3 months a year. In the meantime, when we intimated that we had aways enjoyed a good curry once a week when Alastair, one of university friends and flatmates, had shown us how to prepare a ‘proper’ curry, the offer was made to come round and enjoy a good authentic curry which they will make for us so we are looking forward to this. The biscuits which were the gift were a most interesting flavour – at first taste, I thought they were just ginger but they have another spice and I think that they actually might be a ginger plus cinnamon mixture. Later on this afternoon, I got our little cribs put into operation – one is modern, Indonesian made balsa wood whilst the second is a beautiful creation in a curved wooden design (vaguely like the palm tree in the Koranic version of the Nativity) which we bought in Chester cathedral a year or so back.

Today was a day for getting up early and getting all of the Christmas shopping done. So I arrived at the supermarket door at 7.55 only to discover that the supermarket doors had already been open for an hour to accommodate the Christmas shoppers. Nonetheless, the store was not particularly busy and so the shopping was relatively straightforward, apart from the fact that the extra Christms stock tends to mean that some regular items get displaced. Nonetheless, I got almost everything I wanted save for the fact that chestnuts were nowhere to be found and the store had completely sold out of its excellent and award winning mince pies. Tomorrow, Meg and I are probably going to pop into Waitrose in any event to have a rendez-vous with some of the cafe regulars, so that will be the opportunity to buy any last minute ‘forgotten’ items. Needless to say, the shopping always takes a certain amount of time to unpack and one has to hunt the space for the ‘Christmas overflow’ but I suspect that Christmas Day being on a Sunday this year somehow makes the food buying less of a deviation from one’s normal pattern. What struck me this year was the fact that some of the veg prices seemed ridiculously cheap – for example, a swede, parsnips and a cabbage were all being sold for the price of 19p. I seem to remember a few years ago that one of the local supermarkets had evidently massively over-ordered some of their Christmas stock and were actually giving away free pre-packed bags of parnsips as you entered the store. I must say tht I have known some horrendously crowded supermarkets stores in the day or so before Christmas probably in the 1980’s and I happy that those days have gone.

This afternoon was the type of afternoon when all of the normal TV schedules have been abandoned and the Christmas season is well and truly kicking in. This afternoon, for example, we were offered a choice between ‘Casablanca’ on one channel and ‘Paddington’ on another. We chose ‘Paddington’ which we have seen several times before but I love the jokes contained within it. I have always thought that ‘Paddington’ was not just for children but can be enjoyed by adults at another level. In the late afternoon we watched a ‘spoof’ Nativity play (in which everythng was designed to go horribly wrong and it did not disappoint) I just wonder of any fervent Christians will send in letters of complaint, though. Whilst watching the TV, I wrote up some of damson vodka/gin labels and later on tonight, they can be affixed to the bottle which can themselves be wrapped up. Wrapping up bottles is not a favourite activity of mine but you get better at it once you perform it multiple times. Tomorrow will be the day when all of these bits of Christmas spirit get distributed to friends up and down the road and after that I may be able to relax just a little as all of my Christmas preparation will have been done.

Yesterday , we witnessed the first of a series of strikes by ambulance men. There were indications that the government were secretly very worried about this particular strike (people dying is never good publicity) but it looked as though members of the public thought long and hard before calling an ambulance and hence demand in the system was down yesterday. However, today we have seen some of this pent up demand pushing up calls to the ambulance service and the next few days will be critical as well. The volume of rhetoric is increasing as well – the government (or rather Barclay, the Health Secretary, was particularly trenchant in his criticisms of the ambulance men in effect accusing them of allowing people to die to make a political point. Needless to say, the unions involved have hit back equally hard arguing that the government has allowed this situation to develop by refusing to discuss pay, indirecly therefore cutting the real wages of ambulance staff. So far, public opinion has been supportive of paramedics, ambulance staff and nurses but the government may be waiting until they feel that the public has had enough and the pressure of public opinion forces a change in the union’s stance. This is not at all likely and two further and more intensive strikes have been called for January so the New Year may well start off in an even more hostile industrial environment than we have at the moment.

I have just a final note on my newly installed audio system where I am getting really good reception on ClassicFM (to which I listen a lot) but some interference on Radio 4 and occasionally Radio 3. Last night, I conducted a little experiment and managed to improve the FM reception on Radio 4 to quite a large extent (i.e. elimination of FM hiss in the background) by the simple expedient of moving the aerial to a new position some 6″ to the left of where it was (and held in place by a map pin) Why this should be so I do not know and do not really care so long as I get reception within acceptable limits.

Last night, I thought I would install the new flat-ribbon aerial I had just purchased from our local radio and television shop. This apparently simple job has its complexities as it involves putting the arms of the ‘T’ in the top corner of the room. I tried a variety of methods first involving drawing pins and then masking tape until I achieved the results I wanted. But the end result was no better and in some ways worse than the very simple and inconspicuous aerial wire I had purloined from another system. So I pulled the wholly erected edifice down and surmised that I was better off using a simple wire aerial that worked rather than a more complex and extensive aerial that did not. As a sort of compensation, I seem to get almost perfect fidelity on ‘ClassicFM’ to which I listen the most with the minimum of FM hiss (but reception not quite as good on Radio 3 and Radio 4) So after all my exertions of last night that came to naught not to mention the rest of the day’s activities, I was somewhat tired this morning and could easily have spent a bit more time in bed but as our domestic help was to arrive quite shortly, I leapt out of bed and got myself showered. When she arrived, we thanked her profusely because, in or absence last Wednesday whilst we were up in Yorkshire, she had put out some Christmas decorations for us and finished dressing the silver Christmas tree. Meg spent a bit more time in bed so after we had breakfasted we popped down into town, picked up our newspaper, made a lightning visit into Waitrose and then decided to go to the park for a quick walk around the lake before we returned home for lunch.

This afternoon was a quiet afternoon in which I busied myself writing the Christmas cards for local friends and neighbours. I then realised late on in the afternoon that I had to put the bins out and took the opportunity to hand deliver the Christmas cards to our immediate neighbours. Later on tonight, I need to do a little bit of labelling up of supplies of damson gin and vodka which will be distributed as little Christmas presents during the morning. Tomorrow, I need to get up fairly early and get myself outside the supermarket the minute it opens for a weekly shop necessarily enhanced by all of the extra Christmas shopping that needs to be done. Today is the date on which we experience the winter solstice which is when the earth’s tilt away from the sun is at its maxium and hence the year’s longest night and shortest day.I console myself that once Christmas is well and truly over, it starts to get lighter by about a minute or so a day. I was always fascinated by the way in which our very earliest ancestors managed to compute when the winter solstice was experienced so that the mid-winter festival and feasting activities could begin. Incidentally, I seem to remember that at some point in the 1950’s there was a concern about the increasing commercialisation of this festive period and a campaign slogan, used across the front of the mail that we received, was an imprecation to ‘Put Christ back into Christmas’ Whilst this sentiment is understandable, it is undoubtedly the case that early Chrisianity somehow commandeered Christmas and the Christmas story was superimposed upon earlier festivities. Christmas owes its roots to the ancient Roman holiday of Saturnalia, which was a pagan festival which was celebrated from December 17-25 each year. This custom was altered and absorbed into Christmas, and this allowed early Christians to gradually erase these old pagan holidays. Whilst the tradition of Christmas trees owes much to the Victorians and particularly to Prince Albert, there has always been a much older tradition of bringing green branches into houses and decorating them. I did know but had forgotten that in the Middle Ages, Advent like Lent was a period of fasting and self-restraint, all of which came to a glorious end on Christmas Eve and midnight mass. As we were coming home from the park at lunchtime, we passed some of our Irish friends who had their grandchildren with them, taking them for a walk. I asked the grandson who is aged about six if he knew how many ‘sleeps’ he had to count before Christmas day itsef and the answer of ‘four’ sprang immediately from his lips. I engaged in that adult thing of sustaining and reinforcing the Christmas myth by asking whether he and his parents had a ready supply of carrots ready to feed to Santa’s reindeers. I also pointed out that Santa appreciated a good big class of sherry to be left out with the carrots and the grandfather almost gave the game away by observing that if Santa did not appreciate a glassfull of sherry, then the adults in the household most certainly would. I reminded my fellow Pilates class members that when I was very young, I used to shout up the chimney to indicate my desires for Christmas presents but what to do if one lives in a house without a chimney, I am at a loss to say.

Today has been a full day but we have managed to pack a fair bit into it. The most important thing is that we had an appointment with the optician fairly early this morning and this appointment went well, with no significant changes to report. Fortunately for us, the optician knows us very well and has been testing the eyes of both Meg and myself for at least 10 years now, so it is excellent to have that continuity of care over the years. He was able to provide some words of reassurance and so will see us again in about one year’s time. After this appointment was concluded, we popped into one of the charity shops in order to augment our supply of Christmas cards – I thought that we had boxes a-plenty but I needed an extra supply not least to give to my Pilates fellow class members when I see them later on in the day. One of the boxes of cards was of quite a stunning design and I wish I had seen them before but it is always possible to be wise after the event. Then we paid a visit to our local television and radio dealers to see what they had to offer the way of FM antennas for my newly installed system. Late last night, I borrowed the very simple wire aerial from one of legacy sysems and put it onto the newly installed Panasonic and was amazed at the quality of the FM transmissions that even this simple wire aerial managed to produce. Considerably heartened by this, I was happy to purchase another copy of what is technically called a flat-ribbon FM aerial for my new system. At the moment, I have it draped over a radiator to give it a degree of warmth to remove any residual kinks in the system before I install it later on this evening. Then I received a call on my mobile from our University of Birmingham friend who was happy to meet us for a coffee in the Waitrose coffee bar as his usual ‘Men in Sheds’ (participation in running repairs to whatever people put in front of them) had packed up their toolbags as this is the week before Christmas. Whilst in Waitrose, we met with two more of our pre-pandemic friends and we exchanged Christmas cards and Christmas greetings with each other before promising each other that we meet again next Tuesday (the day after Boxing Day) and we just might manage to squeeze in another visit there this Friday as well. Whilst I was in Waitrose, I noticed a bottle of Prosecco that was being made available in the middle of all the other Christmas stock. As I know all of the members of staff so well, one of them kindly wrapped the bottle for me in a combination of red and white paper which was folded around the bottle and decorated with a huge bow – it really did make the whole into a very attractive gift. This is intended for our new neighbours who just moved into the bungalow just across our communal green area and we will pay a visit to them later on today.

When we got home, there was a bit of a race around to get things ready for my Pilates class. Fortunately, I had already labelled up and wrapped in Christmas paper all of the damson gin bottles to be distributed later. Then it was a case of writing Christmas cards for all of my fellow class members and then I pulled on some of my Santa Claus kit which I wore underneath my track suit bottoms. The journey down into town is a bit burdensome on this occasion because I have a rucksack with some Pilates gear in it, a Pilates mat, a bottle bag with seven bottles of damson gin inside and then a Santa Claus hessian bag with all my other Santa Claus gear inside. The routine is well established over the years. We always have about 5 minutes of ‘relaxation’ in the session before Christmas and I take the opportunity to creep out, change into the rest of my Santa Claus gear and then come back into the studio as the relaxation session ends to play Fr.Christmas, distributing my cards and gin to my fellow class members, my tutor and the two administrative staff as well. Then, of course, there is a frantic change back into more-or-less normal gear before it is time to walk home and cook a belated lunch (traditionally fish cakes on a Tuesday)

After lunch and a rest, we went round to introduce ourselves to our new neighbours who, as it happened, were just turning up in the family car as we wandered across the green to see them. We took with us not only the bottle of wine but a business and a Christmas card. As it was cold and dark by this time, we had just enough time to exchange names, make brief introductions and then make a promise to have a proper Christmas-time mince pies and sherry session (traditional with neighbours in any case) where we can get to know each other a little better and I can fill them in on any of the practical arrangements of our communal living arrangements. Then we knocked on the door of our next door neighbours where we exchanged news and were invited in for a very welcome glass of sherry.