Hello, good morning and welcome to another Moreton Pinkney Picayune. We have a bumper, bumper crop of bits and pieces this week. The weather’s been cold, hovering just about freezing, and we even had a frosting of snow last Sunday. To be fair, it was only about an inch or so but still very pretty. And, as when we lived in Byfield, the road to town is regularly travelled and therefore we had no disruption to our day. All the snow had vanished by Monday, which is fine with me.
I was in the kitchen the other day when one of the multitude of devices we possess beeped and I got to thinking – how many machines/appliances/devices in your home “beep” at you when they’ve finished their chore? I was boiling the kettle for a cup of coffee and, when our kettle reaches its desired temperature, it beeps about seven times to tell you it’s ready. Great idea?
The problem is that there are now so many appliances which “beep” and their “beeps” all sound similar if not exactly the same, one has almost no chance of recognising which device is calling. In our household the washing machine beeps when it’s done as does the tumble dryer. The microwave beeps as does the kettle and the bread maker and, while the washing machine and tumble dryer continue to beep intermittently until you attend to their needs, the microwave, kettle and bread maker eventually stop (I guess simply assuming that you’ve forgotten about them altogether). The one appliance that had us fooled for a long time was the dishwasher. It gives you a beep when it’s finished and continues to beep until you deal with it. The “problem” is that it only beeps about once every ten minutes and when it does sound off it’s not easy to track down which appliance is calling.
I have the answer. If there are any venture capitalists out there who would like to make a fortune – devices with programmable beeps! It’s so obvious – different “sounds” or even beepy tunes when the device has finished and needs to alert you. Similar to customising the ring tones on your mobile phone so that you know instantly which person that you would prefer not to talk to is calling, you would instantly recognise which appliance is demanding your attention. Sounds simple enough to me.
On Monday this week I had my last cancer follow-up consultation. Following my surgery in September 2011, I’ve had a follow-up consultation every six months or so. Thankfully, my recovery has been excellent with virtually no “collateral” damage and the consultants reckon there is no need to continue with follow-up visits or phone calls. I’ll still need to have blood tests every six months to keep an eye on my PSA levels but I am cancer free and the oncology consultants (and I) have every reason to believe that will continue. Throughout the whole of this odyssey, the oncology staff have been outstanding, very kind and reassuring – wonderful people dealing with folks who are very frightened and confused. Thank goodness for the NHS.
Happy Birthday (last Wednesday) to Nick. Wednesday also happens to have been International Cheese Lovers Day, I discovered. I’m surprised I hadn’t made the connection before now because it is very appropriate. When they were young, Ben and Nick were planning to become a cheesemaker and a milkman when they grew up – neither Pen nor I can remember who was going to fulfil which role but I imagine it must be close to inevitable if your birthday falls on Cheese Lover’s Day!
Wednesday also happened to mark the beginning of a month-long period when five planets are visible in the morning sky.
I was up moderately early on Wednesday and could very clearly see Jupiter and Venus – I wasn’t up soon enough and it was a bit too light to see the others. Have a look if you’ve got clear skies and find yourself with nothing better to do an hour or so before sunrise.
We’ve greatly enjoyed the international comedy show that is the Donald Trump campaign. It’s difficult to tell which is more amusing, his hair or the ridiculous, racist, intolerant, misogynistic and idiotic comments he makes on a daily basis. This week provided even more enjoyment than usual with the Sarah Palin endorsement. I ran across the following comment on Facebook which was tolerably amusing:
I crack up when people say, “I’ll vote for him. He speaks his mind!” Since when does speaking your mind make you presidential material? My drunk uncle always speaks his mind. Maybe he should run. He makes as much sense as Trump.”
But the highlight of the week was surely the rambling, incoherent endorsement of Trump by Sarah Palin.
You couldn’t make it up!
And speaking, as we were, of political hilarity, there has been much satire in the press over the announcement that the economic downturn means that interest rates in the UK, at least, will remain at their record low level for probably much of this year and perhaps even into next year. All because the UK economy continues to struggle, in spite of Osborne, the Tit’s exclamation that only he can restore the British economy to its glory days. And, all this in spite of not reducing the deficit (which was, after all, his main priority and the excuse given time and time and time again for his policy of Austerity).
And, on the same lines, a cute sketch from John Crace, one of the Guardian’s political commentators: Forget the Economic Gloom – Gideon is in Charge! A diverting read if you are interested.
I do occasionally wonder how people such as Osborne and Cameron sleep at night – not because their policies are so evil – clearly that is of no consequence to them. But rather, how do they cope with the knowledge that they are just simply not up to the job? Or, are they just so conceited and arrogant that they don’t realise how universally useless they are?
Finally, on a very sad note, we had to let our Molly make her way to a better place on Thursday. She had been steadily declining in recent weeks and Pen and I finally had to take the difficult and painful decision that her quality of life was no longer tolerable. It has been an increasing struggle for her to get about and on Thursday she finally collapsed completely. Even though we knew this day was coming, it’s still very, very difficult to take the decision to pull the plug, even when you know it’s the right thing to do.
So, for the first time in nearly 40 years we are without a canine companion although we have 40 years of wonderful memories to fill the void: Polly grabbing the boys’ underpants and running away while they chased her around the living room, Rosie dragging a log from the woods and working out how to get it through the kissing gate at the bottom of Edge Hill so that she could bring it all the way home, Pippa whimpering and leaping on to our bed at midnight when the New Year’s Eve fireworks exploded, Molly making her way unattended down to the recreation ground in Byfield to have a romp about on her own at the age of about six months and more long, glorious walks across the countryside than I’ve had hot dinners. I’d like to think that we gave them as much as they gave us. But, I doubt it.
Love to you all,
Greg