We were up fairly late this morning because we watched the broadcast of La Bohème on BBC4 last night. Meg and I quite enjoyed this production but we have seen better. The singing was of a generally high order but I was not completely convinced by some of the staging. The trouble with La Bohème is that we have seen so many productions of this, both live and on video, when one automatically makes comparisons in one’s mind with past productions. I felt this was a ‘curate’s egg’ i.e. it worked well in parts and at other times, I was not so sure. But the death of Mimi in the final moments of the opera is always a totally compelling emotional experience which is, after all, what opera is all about. We had earlier watched young ballerinas and the youngsters from White Lodge (the Royal Ballet training school for 11-16 year olds) going through a fairly gruelling training procedure. When you watched the ultimate performance, one’s heart was in one’s mouth that nobody made a mistake – I suppose they would have edited out anything that was a disaster. But the physical and emotional demands on trainee dancers has got to be seen to be believed. If you do a Google search for ‘ballet mistakes’ you will see what happens and how quickly some of the dancers recover from a terrible mistake. Sometimes, I wonder if some members of the audience even notice.

Being a little delayed this morning, I walked down to collect the newspaper and do a little bit of shopping for supplies that had run short – Meg and I decided to forgo our normal walk so went down to the park by car. En route, we stopped off with our Irish friends down the road in order to invite them around for a Christmas drink and they were busy with their two grandchildren keeping them suitably entertained no doubt. When we got to the park, it was raining with a stinging type of drizzle despite the weather being on the mild side. The park was deserted – so we walked a circular walk avoiding our normal stay on a park bench (which would have been both wet and cold) and decided to come home and have our prepared elevenses at home. This we did and then pressed on with lunch, eating some more of our Christmas beef. Both Meg and I felt that our ‘leftovers’ tasted particularly tasty this morning. This sometimes happens with a joint which tastes better the day after rather than the day of cooking and our broccoli had benefitted for being the fridge for several days. Even the glass of wine we had tasted a little better than on the day of opening itself.

This afternoon was devoted to some little tidying and mending jobs – the kind of jobs that you always say you are going to get round to eventually and then the hour of reckoning comes. I also tried some experimentation with Meg’s iPhone to see if I can temporarily switch the passcode off (I can!) The idea behind this is to get something approximating to a ‘one touch’ system so that when I am out of the house, Meg can use my iPhone to contact me almost instantly should the need arise.

I came across a nice little expression in the last day or so, namely ‘Plans are worthless, but planning is everything.‘ There is a very great distinction because when you are planning for an emergency you must start with this one thing: the very definition of ’emergency’ is that it is unexpected, therefore it is not going to happen the way you are planning. The details of a plan which was designed years in advance are often incorrect, but the planning process demands the thorough exploration of options and contingences. The knowledge gained during this probing is crucial to the selection of appropriate actions as future events unfold. So there we are.

I was disappointed to learn that our Health Secretary, Sajid Javid, has announced that there will be no further restrictions before the New Year – this on the day that we had the highest number of infections ever at 113,628. I dare say that the government are gambling upon the fact that there has been a degree of ‘semi-lockdown’ as people have withdrawn from various activities, such as shopping, over the recent period. Also the apparent ‘mildness’ of the Omicron variant means that hospital admissions have not risen at the same rate as the infection rate. On the other hand, on the ‘supply; rather than the ‘demand’ side of the equation the hospitals are under the most extreme pressure because so many NHS staff are ill with COVID are self isolating. The absenteeism rate due to COVID has risen by 40% since last year. Covid staff sickness rose by 122% in a week at hospital trusts in London, which has had more Omicron cases than anywhere else in England. 

Today being Boxing Day makes tomorrow Bank Holiday Monday, I suppose, as the Bank Holiday gets transferred from a Sunday (i.e. today) until the following day. So this morning, I decided to pop down early for our Sunday newspapers on my own so that would liberate a bit of time later on in the day. The weather has been incredibly wet for the last few days but at least the rain had eased off for my walk down into town today and it seemed as though the rain would hold off for the rest of the morning. Meg and I walked down and had coffee on our ‘normal bench’ and thought we would not bump into any of our regulars but no sooner had we consumed our coffee then our University of Birmingham friend turned up with a couple of other mutual friends that we had not seen for a couple of weeks. So it was good to bump into friends and we exchanged news about the kind of Christmas Day we had had. To some extent, we were not unhappy to get Christmas Day itself over and done and now we were ready for a more relaxing time on Boxing Day. When we got to the park, I substituted my normal leather Australian style hat for a Santa hat. The Australian hats are occasionally known as ‘Bush’ hats and sometimes as ‘Cowboy’ hats but I have learnt, to my cost, not to leave them behind in a railway carriage or a pub because they never, ever get handed in as lost but are claimed under the principle of ‘Finders-Keepers, Losers-Weepers). After we had our chat the drizzle started to come down so we started to make for home. As we had plenty of food and drink back in the house, we invited our University of Birmingham friend back into the house where we had a quick drink followed by an instant Boxing-day style meal. We had got plenty of cooked vegetables left over from yesterday  so we cut ourselves some slices of ham and quickly microwaved up the vegetables so we had a meal in an instant. Whilst we were at it, we decided to have a go at the Christmas pudding that we had in stock and was far too much just for the two of us. So we had some enjoyable food and drink and even more enjoyable conversation as we recounted some of our university experiences. We expressed to each other the feelings that we had of quiet satisfaction that we were not part of present day employment conditions in the higher education sector. This is so highly casualised these days and the students having to pay up to £9,000 a year (and take out loans to cover the costs of maintenance) and are starting to express their discontent. Some university staff have taken strike action in recent months as plans are in place to fund the Universities pension schemes with cuts to benefits. The employers claim the cuts will amount to something between 10%-18%  whilst the college unions claim that the cuts amount to  35%. I cannot start to arbitrate between these conflicting estimates but it does seem that conditions have changed considerably since I was in employment in a university. For decades we contributed about 7% of our salary towards our final pensions and the employers contributed a more than equal amount. Trying to understand why and how the deficit has arisen is contentious. However, from what I can glean, it appears that deficits in defined-benefit pension schemes have been made worse by central bank action to deal with the coronavirus. By pushing down interest rates in the hope of stimulating an economic recovery, they have made long-term pension promises much more expensive. Retired workers are also living longer, adding to the increase in expected future costs.

The COVID situation is currently exposing divisions in the approach taken to the Omicron variant of the COVID virus in the various constituent nations of the UK (although it doesn’t feel very united) The Celtic fringes of Wales, Scotland Northern Ireland are generally re-imposing conditions on meetings of large numbers of people and nightclubs are generally being closed – but not in England. It appears that England is still taking a more ‘libertarian’ approach with looser restrictions on the use of face-masks and the like than other countries. However the situation is being kept ‘under review’ and it is possible that England might eventually come into line with all of our immediate neighbours. Also, there is a firm commitment that schools will reopen as usual in about a week’s time and I wonder what the effects of this are going to be. I suspect that we may see the worst of the Omicron variant towards the middle of January and whilst government policy is to give a booster dose to as many as possible, it may be that the protection ‘enjoyed’ by many members of the population may be fast waning. So some societies (like Israel) are already considering a fourth vaccination (a second booster dose) and it could be that this will become necessary in the UK as well if the infection rate soars.

It seems a bit strange writing a blog when you haven’t really done anything all day, but here goes. Last night, the Christmas Midnight Mass was only broadcast from our local cathedral in central Birmingham. I have not visited St.Chads but it has several associations with the eminent architect Pugin as the Cathedral and Bishop’s House (originally opposite), and their interiors, were designed by him. The cathedral is an internationally significant building, being the first Catholic cathedral to be built in the UK since the Reformation. I also discovered that in 1940 a bomb dropped through the ceiling, burst some central heating pipes and the escape of water from the same put out the fire which would have otherwise ensued (and therefore the fabric of the cathedral was saved). Perhaps it was the TV shots but the cathedral was not, at first glance, a particularly memorable building – I suspect that I need to visit it and have a good wander around to appreciate its undoubted qualities. When the service was over, it was now being well and truly Christmas Day, I sent off a series of tweats to family members and also received an email from an old friend in Spain.  The rest of the day followed a fairly predictable Christmas Day routine. After we had had our breakfast and opened up our Christmas presents, we were entertained by the adventures of ‘Sean the Sheep‘ which brought wry smiles rather than rib-tickling gales of laughter. Then it came to the organisation of Christmas dinner. This is always an exercise in logistical rather then culinary skills but I am pleased to say that I managed to get the beef, gravy, roast potatoes, parsnips, sprouts, chestnuts and finally Rioja well and truly coordinated and we had a (rather large) dinner at just about the anticipated time. After lunch, I idly flipped through various channels on the telly and settled upon a programme on Channel 5 going through Abba’s greatest hits which I must say I rather enjoyed in a post-prandial haze. Then it was time for the Queen’s broadcast at 3.00pm. I must admit that I have never followed these assiduously over the years but on this occasion, it seemed a little different. For a start, the Queen had decided to stay at Windsor rather than having a traditiuonal ‘family do’ at Sandringham – was this a message to the nation? A lot of the broadcast was then devoted to the fact that the Queen had lost her husband earlier on this year and she was reflecting upon the fact that Christmas time can be a particularly poignant time when loved ones have passed away. I thought the whole broadcast was particularly well crafted (even though much of it is put together by some of her wordsmiths). I rather enjoyed trying to decode the subliminal messages (who is ‘up’ and who is ‘down’ in the modern royal family by the mention or the absence of a mention as well as which video clips are displayed to illustrate the broadcast)

Almost inevitably at this time of year, one reflects on Christmas in the past. One of the earliest recollections that I have must have date back to about 1950 when I was aged five. My mother worked as a clerk/typist in the Education offices in Harrogate. She used to tell the the story that she and her fellow workers used to wait for their boss to do his round of the offices to wish everyone a happy Christmas at about 3.30 or 3.45 on Christmas Eve. This was then a ‘cue’ for everyone to leave and all of the Christmas shopping that needed to be done was left from about 3.45 to 5.30 on that afternoon. The memories that I retain was of my mother coming home on her bicycle, laden up with carrier bags and with a small Christmas tree sticking out of one of them. To be fair, the shops were so short of anything to buy just after the Second World War and people were so short of money in general that this not the privation you might imagine. Of course, times were very much simpler 70 years ago. Even later, as a teenager, when I worked at the Old Swan Hotel in Harrogate (washing dishes at 12½p an hour) I would start at 6.00pm and would leave home to cycle into work at about 5.30. Our shift would carry on until about 2.00am the following morning and I did this for several years as a teenager. To be honest, you had Christmas Day with your family and then saw work colleagues in the evening. The management was extraordinarily generorous in those days – staff were not offered any extra pay for working on Christmas day but each member of staff was rewarded with one (small) glass of sherry (which the hotel used to buy by the barrel directly from Spain and then bottle themselves with an ‘Old Swan’ label stuck on it).

Christmas Eve has dawned and I leapt out of bed fairly early for me because I thought I would walk down to the paper shop before breakfast to liberate a bit more time during the rest of the day. Walking down to town at about 7.30 in the morning was quite an interesting experience because some people had their lighted decorations on (which they may switch off during the day). I have seen a fibreglass reindeer in one of the front porches down the road but I haven’t realised before that this could be illuminated by flashing LEDs (which sounds tacky in the extreme, but actually it was fairly tasteful). At the newsagents, I picked up my newspaper and I exchanged seasonal greetings with the wife of the newsagent who has lived,with her husband, in California. We were having a chuckle about the fact that the American cricket team had secured a victory over the Irish which was quite notable for them – but the source of amusement to us both was that about 8 of the American cricket team were Asian and another two Afro-Caribbean – I think one solitary white American male had crept into the team somehow.  When I got home, I prepared our normal cooked breakfast and then our domestic help turned up and we always have a lot to natter about, particularly in view of our little Yorkshire venture for my brother-in-law’s funeral. We indicated that all had gone well and the whole proceedings were both dignified and emotionally uplifting. I then had to go ahead and get the cards organised for the neighbours. As it turned out there were about seven of these and again I tried to match the Christmas card to the neighbour. Hence to two of our Asian neighbours, I try not to offend them with overtly Christian type cards but tend to use those which evidently have an international flavour. For one of my park friemds (who as it happens was not there this morning) I chose a vaguely amusing card which had on it a flock of sheep bah-ing ‘Happy Christmas bleatings’ (which, although not rib-tickingly funny might bring a slight smile of amusement when he eventually gets it). So Meg and I set out on our journey to the park, hand delivering the cards as we went. When we got to the park, neither of two regular friends were there but I had a quick telephone call with one of them to arrange a rendez-vous for Sunday. We did, though, meet up quite by chance with an elderly Irish couple who are close friends of our other Irish friends along Kidderminster Road. I reminded them that last year, the six of us had partaken of some of the damson gin which I had taken down for some of friends. Because we were in sort of lockdown conditions last year, we actually sat in the doorway of an open garage so that we could indicate to passing officaldom that we were actually outdoors (which complied with the regulations then in force) I had taken along a largish bottle of the 2020  vintage of our damson gin (I had made six litres last year and hence had some left over before this year’s is bottled) I had brought with me some paper cups so they both imbibed my damson gin and I reminded them that as we had been doing this for two years, we had actually started a tradition. After the Irish couple  proceeded on their way, we encountered anothr couple that we know slightly by sight (or rather their dog bounded over searching out titbits which is quite a common occurrence) We had a very interesting chat for at least 20 minutes or so talking about the houses in which we had lived in the past, both of which happened to have extremely long gardens. So after this chat we had to race home and I cooked some sea-bream which I had promised all of us this Christmas Eve lunch.The point about this particular fresh fish is that it only done for about three minutes on one side and two minutes on the other  and then served on a bed of salad – so the whole meal can literally get thrown together ina few minutes. We then exchanged some Christmas gifts that we had bought for each other but our domestic help ( an excellet cook, by the way) brought along a courgette and ginger soup (which we were to have later on this evening) and some absolutely delicious treacle-type ginger cake ( and in return, she had some of our beer and Cava of which we had a spare bottle) so I am sure we will have a wonderfulChristmas day opening up all of these prezzies.

This evening we went to the Christmads Eve service in which we imagined that the church would be packed full.  It was but we had got there 15 minutes before our normal arrival time. It was raining ‘cats and dogs’ both when we got to the church and when we came out so we were pleased to get home and enjoy some home-made soup.

I thought that today was going to be a quieter kind of day but I suppose that for the few days just before Christmas, that has got to be a case of wishful thinking. After our entertaining last night and then sqeezing in writing my blog in the intervals between a repeated showing of ‘Endeavour‘ (i.e. the young Morse), Meg and I allowed ourselves a little bit of a lie-in, given that I was up at 6.30 yesterday morning. However, I have it in mind that in the New Year, I might train myself into a new pattern in which I get up at 6.30, walk down to get the newspapers each morning which will give me an extra bit of exercise and then Meg and I can still walk to the park but the newspapers will have been collected which attenuates the walk somewhat. But that is a New Year resolution which may not survive beyond a day or so. Today, though, as we were having a lesiurely breakfast we had occasion to look outside our front door and we noticed that Santa Claus had made an early visit to our house. Delighted as we were, we realised that a certain amount of present buying needed to be done, not least for our assiduous domestic help who is due round tomorrow morning. So Meg and I revised our plans for the day and decided to collect the newspaper by car and then pop by into Waitrose where some goodies were awaiting us. In Waitrose, as well as getting the things that we wanted, we had both a pleasant and an unpleasant surprise. The unpleasant surprise was one of the regular staff telling us that the coffee bar area which had been requisitioned to act as Christmas fare overflow area was unlikely to reopen as a coffee bar immediately after Christmas. The official word is that they are going to ‘wait and see’ for a bit, but I suspect that they find it more profitable to abandon the coffee bar area altogether and to reopen it as a type of special offers or promotions section. This confirms our belief that once a facility closes, it is so much more difficult to reopen it and the higher management of Waitrose are thinking of redeploying this floor space altogether. But then we had some good news because one of the regular staff made us a present of some hyacinth bulbs which is always a reminder that as it blooms, there will be a Spring upon the way in a few weeks time. So Meg and I went home and had our ‘elevenses’ at home, substituting some of last night’s left-overs for our normal fare and set about wrapping our newly purchased purchases in Christmas paper,labelling them up and writing the Christmas cards to go with them. Then we set out by car on our errand to drop off presents. The first went to our Italian friend down the road and then we popped presents near the front or back doors of our church friends and our Irish friends respectively.

Some interesting analyses on the severity of the Omicron variant have been released today by the UK Health Security Agency. The findings, in brief, are that:

⊕ The People with Omicron are significantly less likely to develop severe symptoms, according to the first analysis by the UK Health Security Agency (UKHSA).

⊕ Early results suggest people are 30-45% less likely to go to A&E if they are infected with Omicron rather than Delta.

⊕ They are also 50-70% less likely to need to be admitted to hospital.

⊕ It shows that 10 weeks after the booster the effect in preventing symptomatic disease dropped by 15-25%.

⊕ Independent scientists have warned that even a “milder” virus that causes large numbers of cases could still lead to a surge in hospital admissions.

Today I knew was going to be quite a busy day so I set the alarm to get me up promptly at 6.30am. Then after a wash and a quick bite of cereal, I made my way to Waitrose in Droitwich, anticipating being there about 2-3 minutes before the store opened. When I did get there the store was already open and seemed quite busy so the store must have (quite sensibly) opened an hour early to accommodate the Christmas shopping.  This was always going to be quite a big shop- up and so it proved as we missed out on a shop-up when we went up to Yorkshire last week. Also, there were various things that I knew we had run out of so I needed to bear in mind the extra things that inevitably one buys at Christmas time (Christmas pudding and the like) as well as some extras because I knew that we were entertaining our next door neighbours this evening and a solitary mince pie looks parsimonious in the extreme. The shopping and the extra shopping took a lot of unpacking so we were late getting on our normal excursion to the park. In fact, we were so late that we decided to go by car not least because once we had picked up our newspaper, I needed to buy some more (first class) stamps to ensure that last minute Christmas cards got to their destination on time. Once we had made it to the park, it was so late and a bit cold and damp so we decided to cut our losses and get straight home and have our elevenses at home, which we did. Then we decided to eat our quiche which I  complemented with a tomato/mushroom/garlic sidedish which complemented the quiche very well. 

Before it got well and truly dark this afternoon, I got our dustbins pulled to the front of our access road and then did a quick consultation with my email to see if one of Meg’s cousins had replied to an earlier plea asking for addresses of relatives that had escaped our system. Meg’s cousin had replied so we set up a time when we can ‘Zoom’ each other. Armed with an up-to-date address for another of Meg’s cousins, I thought I would make a lightning visit down into town hoping that the Christmas card for which I now had an address would manage to get to its destination on time. It was raining cat and dogs but I managed to get to a postbox where I think (hope) that I will have caught the last post today so I am hopeful it may arrive tomorrow or Christmas Eve at the very latest. When I got home, I immediately starting to plate up the ‘small-eats’ which we needed to entertain our next door neighbours later on this evening. We had slightly mistaken the time they were due to call round but no problem as we had just about got everything sorted out anyway. I had bought some Rose Prosecco from Waitrose this morning as well as some medium sherry and both of these were pressed into service this evening. Then we had an incredibly enjoyable couple of hours with our neighbours and we have them a blow-by-blow account of how the funeral services had gone (well) and lots of other neighbourly type of things to chat about. I regaled them with some of my civil service escapades which are ‘old hat’ by now but at least they hadn’t the story before, nor of my escapade sailing my boat (upturned kitchen table) when I was aged about 3½ or so.

It is always nice to get this stage before Christmas i.e. shopping done, neighbours entertained, cards delivered – although the immediate neighbour’s cards still have to be done. We are now at the stage when all ought to be plain sailing. I have always thought that Christmas, particularly Christmas Day, has to be carefully planned and I allow myself to relax from Boxing Day onwards. Last night, I suddenly thought about the diary which I need for next year (I tend to buy the same model of Letts so that they form a series over the years) and a large Collins type of wall calendar that I have displayed next to me desk so that I can look at commitments for a week or so ahead. Fortunately,  both of these were in stock and the diary will be arriving tomorrow and the calendar a day or so after that.

Now that another ‘semi-lockdown’ seems to be upon us – I would guess some time immediately after Boxing Day – it may well be time to activate our Zoom, Skype and FaceTime networks. The peak of the Omicron virus is not yet quite in sight but in a few days we might see if the curve is flattening at all.  Getting reliable data over the Christmas and New Year period may be arkward but I suspect that in about a fortnight’s time. the epidemiologists might have enough data to firm up their predictions.

Well today the shortest day and longest night is now upon us. The technical moment was 15.58 this afternoon so we are now moving away from the period of maxiumum darkness. The coldest day is often in the middle of February, however, so we can expect to shiver for a few weeks yet. Once Christmas and the New Year are out of the way so to speak, one can observe that the days are lightening just a smidgeon but, of course, there is a lot of the winter to go yet. I always wonder how our primitive forebears managed with formal calendars to mark out exactly when the winter solstice occurs. Of course, if you go into the intricacies of Stonehenge, then it does appear that the Winter Solstice was marked when the sun’s rays appared at a particular point between two of the uprights. We also know from quite recent archeological evidence that a huge quantity of pig and cattle bones were found near Stonehenge and these animals may well have been born 9 months before and reared so that they could be slaughtered in good time for the winter feasting and celebrations. On a more serious note, our ancestors might have needed the exact date of the solstice so that they could plan when to plant their crops, rear their animals and the like. Christianity grafted itself onto these traditions. The very earliest Christians did not celebrate Christmas but about 200 AD the date of Christmas was assumed to be January 6th. But as earlier Egyptian source celebrated the solstice often representing it as the birth of an infant child, so the early Church Fathers realigned Christmas to be coincide with the date of the earlier pagan festivals – and hence December 25th.

This morning, I busied myself putting some labels on the bottles of damson gin and then wrapping them up (crudely) in Christmas wrapping paper and then writing a card to each of my Pilates class mates. Then as we were short of time, Meg and I made a lightning visit to the park by car and had a quick drink of our coffee before we raced back in time for me to make my Santa Claus decorations. I decided to wear my Santa Claus trousers underneath my tracksuit bottoms and may Santa Claus top underneath my normal shirt. Then I bundled my Santa Claus coat and hat into my hessian bag, complete with the gin, and set off for the class. As it popped down, I rehearsed the lines of my Sanata Claus ditty which I won’t repeat just now but it starts off with ‘I saw Mummy kissing Santa Claus‘ and quickly progresses onto the birth of a baby Santa Claus who proceeds to get outrageously drunk on damson gin. By tradition, the very last five minutes of the Pilates class before Christmas is devoted to a period of relaxation. So I wait for a couple of minutes until I think everyone’s eyes are shut and then sneak out of the door to complete my transformation (which involved ripping off shirts and track suit bottoms in the foyer before I don my outer robes) Then in I pop, with excellent timing as the class were just being woken up and I exclaim  ‘My goodness, girls and boys – you have grown a lot in the last year‘  and I proceeded to sing my little ditty and distribute the gin – all in a socially distanced fashion of course and hence no Christmas hugs (Sigh!) But my fellow class members have been denied this spectacle last September so it is two years since I performed my act. I make sure that the reception staff and the owner of the clinic also receive their prezzies as well, so that is all over for another year. I must say that I was minded to walk down to the park on Christmas Day in my Santa Claus regalia but my son cautioned me out of this on the grounds that all of the little children in the park might rush towards me and would have to be severely disillusioned. I do agree with this analysis but I might don a Christmas hat at an appropriate point in our sojourn in the park – after all, one of my fellow Pilates class members came along with a pair of green antlers (which had to be removed before the exercises).

There is the whole of the Christmas grocery shopping yet to be done and I have known some horrendously busy supermarkets in the past. However, tomorrow I intend to be at the door of my local Waitrose store in Droitwich at 1 minute before opening time and then I shall have to have a good race around. Tomorrow evening, we are having our next door neighbours in for a Christmas drink so I can get well and truly provisioned in my shopping trip in the morning.

Today being Monday and the start of the week before Christmas, I started to get focused on what needed to be done in the next few days. The first thing on my mind was the location and condition of my ‘Santa Claus’ outfit which, by tradition, I deploy on the Tuesday before Christmas when members of my Pilates class exchange Christmas cards – and occasionally other goodies. With the things that you only use once a year, I had a rough idea of where my outfit was but fortunately I went straight to a cupboard from whence I could retrieve the required items stored in a Father Christmas style hessian sack. Instead of the considerable rigmarole of having to change in the toilet area of the Pilates studio, I am going to wear all of my gear underneath my Pilates clothes – then, at the requisite time after we have the ‘treat’ of a relaxation session, I ‘wake up’ half way through and complete my transformation. In the past, I have composed a little song  to the tune of ‘I saw Mummy kissing Santa Claus’  but somehow the creative spirit has left me this year so I may give this a miss. The second tradition associated with my Pilates class is to make a present of a little bottle of our own bottled damson gin to each of my class mates. I knew that I didn’t have time to bottle any of this years but again, fortunately, the year before had been a bumper year so I just happened to have the exact number of small 200cc bottles of gin left over so this has saved me a bit of work. First thing in the morning, I need to wrap up each bottle in Christmas wrapping paper and write a little Christmas card for each person. All of this takes a certain amount of organisation but traditions must not be allowed to die. After getting all of this sorted out and the rest of the unpacking done, Meg and I were a little late in getting down into town today. It was a slightly chilly day but nothing that couldn’t be tolerated. We picked up our newspapers, called by Waitrose to pick up a few supplies and made our way to the park. One of our purchases at Waitrose was a copy of the Radio Times which we tend to buy only once a year at Christmas time so that we have a good guide to the programmes not to miss over the Christmas period. Whilst films at Christmas time are often used just to fill up the empty schedules, occasionally there is a real classic which is well worth watching (last year, for example, it was Casablanca which in black and white had a particular quality to it)    Although it was the first day of the Christmas vacations, there were hardly any children around and even the dog walkers were in short supply this morning so we were quite pleased to drink our coffee and head for home.The thing about doing walks in the summer is that often people are toddling around their front gardens and do not mind stopping for a chat but just before Christmas, no doubt we are all being driven crazy finding Christmas stuffing or its contemporary equivalent. 

One of the chores at Christmas time is the writing and sending of Christmas cards and I am always mightily relieved when this task is done. On the other hand, you have the undoubted pleasure of getting cards from friends and relatives and catching up on their news. We do tend to keep a tally in our heads of the peoiple from whom we have received cards if only because if we do not receive a card from one of our regulars, then we start to get a little concerned lest they be seriously ill – or even worse. However, the Christmas card list does have one set of macabre bonus. When I compiled it for the first time, I gave a copy of it to our son and daughter-in-law with the admonition that whever Meg and I died, this was to the the ‘people-to-be-contacted’ list. I say this because sometimes relatives have the task of sifting through old address books to try to discover old friends, current friends, now forgotten friends and so on. To have an up-to-date list is always useful but with the various amendments that take place from year to year, I must remind myself to give my heirs the up-to-date list this year.

Boris Johnson gave a Prime Ministerial broadcast today which I was glad to miss. Torn between the scientific community and medical experts on the one hand and the libertarian right of the Tory party (to whom any lockdowns are anathema) on the other, Boris decided to do – nothing! However, the situation is to kept ‘under constant review’ and could change at a moment’s notice. I think the ploy here is all too transparent – i.e. get Christmas Day and Boxing Day over and then go for a lockdown in all but name before the NHS is completely overwhelmed.

Today we were scheduled for departure from our stay at ‘The Crown‘ hotel in Harrogate. We both woke up relatively early and I always find it to be a much easier job to pack to come home rather than to pack when coming away. We got most of the job done in about an hour and a half and I transferred most of our ‘funeral’ clothes into the body of the car where they could be hung up without creasing. Breakfast ran a little later in the hotel at the weekends (so people could have a lie-in) and there were only two other couples in the dining room when we got down. At the end of our breakfast, we have a chat with our friendly waitor and then with two reception staff at the entrance to the dining room. We explained to them that we had had a very pleasant stay and may well be back and then shared some experieces of hotel work with them, based upon my earlier Old Swan experiences. As it turned out, the very blond female was from Poland and her older colleague was from Lithuania but if I had been forced to guess, I would have each coming from the other’s country. What was quite interesting was the lady from Lithuania and I agreed with each that  hotel work seemed very diffierent from other types of work and it was not unusual for people to have had a variety of jobs within the hotel. I recounted my experiences of starting my hotel life by washing dishes, then washing silver, then working in the still room, then washing glasses for the bar, finally working as a cocktail barman as well as some portering jobs (including night portering) and even a spell in the laundry.  The hotel worker from Lithuania, too, had done many different jobs in the hotel and this was actually quite common. I mentioned that the highlight of the Christmas proceedings occurred on Christmas Day lunch when the head chef donned his best (newly laundered) chef’s clothing and then a huge plum pudding was set alight with brandy and was then carried aloft over his head in a darkened dining room in which all of the lights (apart from candle light) had been extinguished. The spectacle was amazing and brought gasps of astonishment and applause from the assembled diners. I asked if anything like that took place at the ‘The Crown‘ these days – they both laughed and said it would not be allowed under current Health and Safety legislation!  So we left at about 10.30 and received a telehone call (via the car’s audio/bluetooth system) from my niece when we had just about hit the M1. We had a stop half way down and enjoyed some Costa coffee and some of our own mince pies and then got home some time before 2.00pm. We were delighted to be home and did a bit of gentle unpacking (including the washing, which we bundled into the washing machine) and then gradually starting picking up the pieces again.

The Health Secretary, Sajiv Javid, is reported as saying that the COVID situation is being reviewed ‘upon an almost hourly basis’ which I am sure is probably correct. I am sure that given the overwhelming scientific advice and the amazing spread of the Omicron variant that the government have probably decided ‘in their heads’ to produce radical new measures but are puzzling how to sell it to the libertarian wing of the Tory party and when to do it. My guess would be that the government is relying upon the fact that a few days before Christmas many are ‘voting with their feet’ and staying away from large crowds and parties so we have a semi-lockdown in all but name. Then new measures might be announced that will take effect one day after Boxing Day i.e. let the population have their Christmas dinner and then hit them with new restrictions whilst their gaze is diverted by Christmas jollities. 

I have just read a story on BBC News that a pet monkey, a Marmoset, was found which had been fed cocaine and then flushed down a toilet. The monkey has survived and the owner is being prosecuted. When I first read the story, I assumed that it was either a joke or  a story of the ‘Freddie Starr ate my hamster‘ genre.

On the political front, Nadine Dorries has just tweated that “I’m aware as someone said today that regicide is in the DNA of the Conservative party, but a bit of loyalty to the person who won an 83 majority and delivered Brexit wouldn’t go amiss.”  As a result of this she has just been removed from the (right wing) Tory MP’s ‘WhatsApp‘ group – which may be an indication of the way the wind is blowing and that Boris Johnson’s removal has been decided in principle – it’s just a question of when!

So here we are the day after my brother-in-law’s funeral and the consensus amongst family members is that we all experienced dignified whilst emotional farewell rites yesterday and my brother-in-law had received a really fitting tribute to his life. Today we had planned to have a toddle throughout Harrogate this morning and to see my sister in the afternoon. The breakfast room is largely self-service and there is only one waiter on duty to cope with anything that needs doing as well as a lot of clearing up. I had chatted with him briefly yesterday about my experiences working at the old Swan Hotel (just down the road) and this morning the waiter was in the mood to chat a lot more about our mutual experiences of life in the big hotels. He did tell us, though, that the hotel we were staying in had endured three changes of management/ownership within the last five years – the manager himself, though, was not stand aloof but would get ‘stuck in’ to help out wherever a pinch point happened to be. As might be expected, there seemed to be quite a flurry of people booking in for a kind of pre-Christmas holiday day cum shopping trip. I remembered well my Old Swan days when as a 15-20 year old, the locals were treated to a contingent of young female staff (waitresses) who had been supplied by a local catering college elsewhere in Yorkshire and the hotel offered them some accommodation as it needed a lot of extra staff to help to cope with the demands of the festivities ahead. As you may imagine, the local youths working in the hotel were more than happy to receive and induct this new augmentation to the hotel staff and to show them ‘the ropes’ as it were. So after a leisurely breakfast, our first task was to get into town and to buy a charging cord for my iPhone as I had neglected to bring one with me with the other things I had to think about on Thursday morning. Having acquired a charging cord, we set off in search of a coffee outlet but Harrogate is liberally supplied with these, We managed to secure the last seat in one (it was a popular time) but we had the good fortune to have a power point completely adjacent to our table so our iPhone could charge whilst we were tucking into tea-cakes and Yorkshire tea. We texted my sister to confirm it would be OK for us to turn up in an hour or so. The other family members were busy at work or busy entertaining relatives of their spouses who were visiting over the Christmas period. So we journeyed from Harrogate to Knaresborough and spent a quiet and contemplative few hours with my sister where various details of my childhood were revealed that I knew nothing about. One of these involved a stout wooden kitchen table which had a top about a metre square. Apparently, in my imagination this made a wonderful craft with which to navigate God knows what stretch of water. Apparently at the age of about 3 or 4, I had taken one of my grandmothers blue dresses and cut a lare hole in it (for what purpose I cannot imagine) so that I can make either a flag or a sail to expedite the journey of our pretend boat. What happened to me as a result of this I do not remember but I suspect my grandmother did not say ‘There, there – boys will be boys‘ but probably exacted a kind of retribution that would have made an Old Testament prophet grow pale. My sister fed us with some of the left-overs from yesterday’s ‘do’ (buttered scones and the like), so Meg and I did get to consume some of yesterdays victuals after all.

We returned to Harrogate in the late afternoon and were delighted that the hotel had reserved a parking place for us. We made a lightning visit into town where we were tempted into an Oxfam bookshop and bought a couple of items and also a few iron rations to sustain us a little this evening before breakfast tomorrow morning and also upon our return journey. We do not feel inclined to do any packing this evening but may throw things into the suitcase first thing tomorrow morning.

The Omicron variant is spreading fastest in London and 26,000 new cases have been declared in London alone. This has resulted in the mayor of London declaring a ‘major incident’  as hospital admissions have been rising fast but, even worse, staff absences have been going up massive levels. There is now talk of a Plan ‘C’ to act as a follow on to Plan ‘B’ and even of a two week lockdown immediately after Christmas. Whether a lockdown is declared officially or not, some of the country is going into an unofficial deadlock over Christmas with working at home, Christmas parties cancelled, sporting fixtures largely devastated and a general feeling of alarm and despondency.