Saturday 29^th September 2018
"Day breaks, the light piercing the thin cotton veil in front of the library window of the old Meeting House. The smell of slightly charred toast fills the air, expertly mingled with the scent of too-much-Lynx. Quiet whispered jokes and chides quickly turn full volume before 8 AM, jarring the dozing out of whatev9er simulacrum of sleep they attempted to steal while splayed across a tiny couch like a crash test dummy. It’s London Link residential weekend."

Opening to a young person's Quaker weekend away at Salisbury.

Wednesday 26^th September 2018
Sympathies for those and their families facing the consequences of road accidents, having just heard accident reports in the Classic fm news. My "planned" day has been anything but, Waitrose by default of chemist need and choosing to use their car park so ended up buying cards, intended and magazines, unintended—Prospect and The Spectator. Spent the after-noon reading them and listening to Classic fm.

Good morning. Cool, calm routine follow through, not that I have a routine, just a matter of doing what hits my eye as wanting doing at that moment. Troubled night, so late awakening for the first time for a long time, which is a good reminder I have much for which to be thankful, especially coming in during the middle of Victoria Derbyshire's [BBC2] discussion on mesh inplant problems.
Immediate thoughts "get on with your outstanding books" but sun is shining and the day glorious, so trip to Ware to follow through latest aid technology and try and work out how things are shaping up to cover possible contingencies ahead and start practically planning home clear up/out needs. I'm actually enjoying summer as I had expected to do so when we had it but the heat was just too much and I crashed out. Ah well, still functioning and with it and an 'Indian summer' is just as great!

Tuesday 25th September 2018
Funny day. Lost Monday as one of my exhausted washouts. Today was assigned to large shopping as dentist visit in the calendar. All well. Walked, day so warm I got back home, has a soup lunch and changed back into shorts and shopped. Did bins needing emptying at depot. dined. Weather good, won't risk shorts in London but it was cold and I needed my coat going into town. If I make London it will be bus trundling around. Good night all!

Monday 24^th September 2018
You are correct that there are many babbling baboons burbling a load of arrant twaddle and ignorant absurdities but common sense does persist and many maintain it quietly, determinedly and unashamedly by just being and carrying on. That, I think is better than waving banners and deliberately creating confrontation, simply carry on unaffected as if nothing has happened, because noting has happened!

Sunday 23^rd September 2018
Dawn in London today was 06:15 and sunrise 06.46. No wonder I did not wish to draw the curtains until 06:45. The heating, which had occasionally tweaked in for a few minutes around 06:50 for the last few days has only just cut out at 07:30, to continue intermittently. I am trying to adjust to an overall 70ºF, when normally I hold 72º–74ºF, as the sun has been giving me through my panorama window for the last week or two. The trouble is, this summer it was intended to be double-glazed but the heat just crashed me out from organising and space needs to be created so workmen can work!
Back to last night when I first thought of this morning! The concert was superb, although by the time we got to the interval I was feeling somewhat down. The programme's mood was sombre, co-ordinating with other town events in celebration of the end of the First World War.
I was unaware of Guillaume Lekeu, a Belgian who had died of typhoid at 23. His death was a reminder of how many died very young from natural causes a century ago. We tend to think only war made such young deaths seem inconceivable.
While not celebrating a particular tragic occurrence, Schubert's 4^th (The Tragic) with Bach's Fantasia and Fugue in C minor (BWV 537) starting the evening, I was rather wondering why I had come bug having spend most of the day lying around to ensure I had the energy to attend I was actually enjoying the evening. The Bridgewater Sinfonia was majestic and confident and the second half's rendition of Elgar's "Enigma Variations" magnificent and alone worth the effort. Now a letter to the secretary with my belated contribution as a"Friend". Should have gone in June but this summer I have simply been totally crashed out.

Typical of the Remain lunacy. We were global—the EU put a stop to that.              
We realised we could not cope with uncontrolled immigration—the EU put a stop to that, told us that while we restricted our own Commonwealth people we were to allow in the EU unrestricted.
Told us we could not regulate according to need, just let them in, despite the fact we had insufficient housing for our own people!
I won't be a bore and go on, although the EU does, on nothing that is helpful and related to reality. Life is Flexible, Adaptable and Malleable: it is rule governed society that is obdurate.

Saturday 22^ndSeptember 2018
Little to do this morning but post up on the week. A mix of emotions, wanting to go to the Bridgewater Concert this evening, mentally attuned but uncertain of my state of physical fitness. Perversely it is pure fatigue, which makes me realise that generally speaking I have nothing much to worry about, just nuisance matters such as aches and pains. Heat exhaustion over the summer really has cost me dear, in terms of time lost in not being able to do when in fact I would have been perfectly capable. That is irritating but I must not try and compensate by overdoing, I must allow things to take their natural way. Is one going nuts? Only intermittently interacting verbally with people it is good to question myself and having read some NHS literature (an advantage of regular and different hospital visiting one discovers things by chance) on "signs of dementia" I feel confident I am still "with it". One of the results of my multifarious problems is occasional "thickness" or slowness of thinking and in moments of clarity I am beginning to realise that my "induction" to one or two of the changes I have been handling happened at key moments of "mental dullness" when things went in one ear and out the next without any acknowledgement in between. For how long I am unsure but in a current moment of rationality I reconnect with what used to be an everyday interaction with life and am irritated by so much remaining undone. Not my style but I have to discipline myself with my time more.

May showing her real self and the EU, ever eager to show us their utter ridiculousness, think she is obdurate. We, who have bent over backwards giving way to them and have so patiently tolerated their presumptuous arrogance for forty years, during which time we have been waiting to be asked if we wanted the fools and they presumptuously assuming we had given them clearance from the beginning, have been nothing but docile puppies. The EU's` belligerent divorcement from everyday reality is beyond belief, save that it is the EU and anything, particularly if ridiculous, is believable of them.

Wednesday 19^th September 2018
Catching up, time is going ever faster, or I am slowing up worse and worse! Continually bogged down by supposed professionals not doing their jobs properly, I really do not think it is all me being thick headed with new technology. I do not think it is me either who is gaining the impression people are less inclined to render service and think things through?
     Anyway, Monday was a good day. I nearly did not go but made myself and I was right. It was extraordinarily warm, really summer rather than autumn. All I did was meander, along old business haunts. Amazing how many changes since I was last in those areas. I was on the district line and enjoyed the overhead sections, looking down on houses and some gardens, remembering how much “country” awareness there is in London suburbia. Normally I wander on the top decks of buses, swapping buses as the mood takes me. For some reason I stayed on the tube and nearly ended up at Wimbledon, thinking of the crowds that would have travelled that way a few weeks back and how quiet and peaceful were the countryside areas now; some lovely tall architectural buildings but also, many lovely new office blocks, their heights commensurate with their existing area sitting neatly in their locations.
      Most amazing of all, particularly drawn to me through a canal enthusiast friend was Paddington. I have not visited for some time and was astounded at several “minor” things, which had made such a world of difference. Transition from my tube line to the main concourse was much easier and they had built in two short escalators either side of the main flight of steps to aid the disadvantaged. We have been too long, as a country, in accepting provision for the disabled and to try and think of the collectiveness of society.
      The most extraordinary was being able to walk through the concourse, following ground-taped indicators. This led through considerable platform changes, nicely designed to the most extraordinary scene (to me), out onto the banks of the Paddington branch of the Grand Union Canal where a restaurant narrow boat was moored. Inside, either side of a central walkway were tables for two, the slightly wider area on the upper deck was open to the elements but protected by an awning and would be ideal for ‘sitting out’ weathers. It presented a superb view of modern office buildings, a peaceful stretch of canal… to where?
       I cannot  comment on details of menu or permanency of mooring but there was something about linking a modern train station with straight connections to Heathrow airport and a one hundred year old canal that passes within one hundred yards of my own home, down which I frequently walk into my home town, which was about four stories in the air was rather fun.

Monday 17^th September 2018
I quote from Poly Toynbee’s article in The Guardian of 28^th August, talking about the Pope’s failure to reconcile the appalling damage the Catholic church has so wilfully inflicted on Ireland over the centuries.
     “Britain should follow Ireland’s example and set out to abolish religious selection in schools. It is astonishing that in this mostly secular country, a third of our state schools separate children by creed. Many church schools are only harbours for not-so-subtle social class and race selection (yes, some are inclusive, but many aren’t). Faith schools take fewer children on free school meals. But where families are true believers, why does the state sponsor religious segregation?
        Professed religion is growing around the world – at 84% – through demographics, not conversion. But it’s on the wane in North America and western Europe, according to Harriet Sherwood’s Guardian survey of young adults. Christians are most numerous, followed by Muslims, with non-believers third. Wars spurred by religions are rising. Wherever religions hold sway, LGBT people are persecuted and women subjugated, Islamophobia and antisemitism flourish.
        Our 26 bishops in the House of Lords seem a quaint anachronism compared with Iran’s ayatollahs, but only Iran and the UK are still theocratic, with faith in their legislature. Despite less than 2% of Britons attending services and 70% of the country’s young having no faith, our state church holds power far beyond its dwindling size. It is opposed to every progressive change, resisting same-sex marriage and successfully blocking assisted dying, despite 80% of the public having supported it for decades. And no party dares to abolish faith schools.
        Who would expect Ireland to blaze the secular trail? The hard lesson it has learned from an overpowering church is one we should learn too. Wherever people are in the power of priests, imams and spiritual leaders, the state has a duty to inspect what’s happening to the hidden-away children and women under their power. The Irish lesson is less respect for religion, and more instinctive suspicion.”
        With greater research, she is writing similar to that which I wrote some while back but I had recommended additions from several other religions into the House of Lords. She chooses elimination and I concur, on the grounds of the CofE’s objection to same sex marriage and opposition to assisted dying, in wilful defiance of 80% of the population wanting the option. Islam still maintains the archaic concept of not treating women as absolute equals to men and it would be wrong to officially introduce archaic concepts into an institution, daily declaring its urgent need for reform and continually doing nothing about it.
        Faith schools are difficult, deriving from the necessity to instil CofE compliance following the break with Rome. To formally abandon religion, which is what such a change would mean, from the cultural management of the country is a more major step than I think Polly Toynbee realises. Welby is currently making important statements on national management which are going down well.  

Sunday 16^th September 2018
Morning world. Darker mornings are growing and I am "coming to" later. The EU has decided not to mess around with daylight saving and fix time throughout the year. As usual, we were in advance but failed to act. We need to end this nonsense, perhaps settling for double summertime, advancing the clocks permanently by 2hrs. In the war, when all this started, it was to maximise daylight hours for farmers. Now, it would be to conserve energy. Why not? Ah, Scotland does not like it but, they do like the EU! Could Scotland hold us back again?

Saturday 15^th September 2018
Lost yesterday but did get some basic shopping done and on a whim bought two papers I had not bought for some time: the Daily Mirror and The Times. The Times is an irregular acquisition, my hard copy preference being The Independent, The Guardian and The Times the latter two being my most regular ^thelectronic updates. With the Daily Mirror I think the question is “What age was I, when I last bought a copy?”  
      I was attracted to the Daily Mirror by an exposé on Kim’s Korea. It was a controlled eight day visit only going 100 miles out of the country’s key city Pyongyang, under the close scrutiny of Kim Yong-un’s security agents. Russell Myers, Chief Investigative reporter’s text was the most illuminating whilst Rowan Griffiths’ photography was merely snapshots, although the overall presentation spoke of a newspaper rather than a child’s comic, which is how I remembered the Daily Mirror.
      “Outside Pyongyang’s three million ‘elite’ 20 million farm workers scratch out a miserable existence. Their toil is the lifeblood of the nation on which the elite thrive. The vast rivers, which should be a bustling avenue of trade are devoid of activity… soldiers regularly survey the peasants’ work, leading them to live in fear and act busy when they are near, even if there is nothing to do.
      “We saw one woman pick up a stick and stare at the ground after being reprimanded by an official, a sign of the level of fear that exists in this dystopian dream-like nation.” Despite talk of nuclear reduction, clandestine techniques ensure talk is not effectual and the warped attitudes of the past remain entrenched.
      “While the Foreign Office advises against all but essential travel to the country a few thousand people a year can visit North Korea as ‘tourists’.
      “Comedy actor Michael Palin, 75, next week releases a two-part documentary that will apparently see him go ‘beyond the politics’ in a bid to discover more about the everyday life of this secretive nation but travelling with a tour company, like Palin, is unlikely to reveal the darker side to life that still exists.
      “The lack of free will was evident from the moment we stepped off the plane. We were given ‘press’ armbands, not permitted to leave our hotel without our minders and kept in a constant state of limbo over arrangements for our stay, often kept in the dark for hours and then needed to leave at a moment’s notice.
      There is a £500 million imitation Shard building… an external shell completely lacking internal floors! An appropriate summation of the article!
      The rest of the Daily Mirror’s content was no more than that of a local paper, effectively stating I am more out of touch with what is perceived as relevant to a large section of society than I thought I was and that is disturbing.

The Times
Tells a different story. Essentially another “local” paper but on a national scale and everything of substance, with a negative portrayal but that could simply be the news itself! “House prices to crash by a third if no-deal Brexit”.  Isn’t that what we want, to help the young? O.k. has an effect on mortgages, may aid downsizing and perhaps special temporary financial provision in taxes or through interest rates. Tie it in with social change provision in the budget for the seriously financially deficit.
      Apparently, three times as many Police and Crime Commissioners are no damned good, than those who have a vague idea as to what the job is about. A May initiative as Home Secretary, derived from America where the social context is completely different. Another half-baked idea grabbed from a chat over a morning coffee no doubt. She was probably walking the streets (she likes walking) and dropped in to a local cop shop to gain a flavour of the moment.
      Apparently Hirst’s art is losing its value at the rate of several tens of thousands of pounds per painting. He himself is worth £300 million, hardly surprising with an art collection of 3,000 items. Tracey Emin’s bed sold, strewn with used condoms and dirty underwear, for £2.5 million at Sotheby’s in 2014. However, many of her best-known works were destroyed in a warehouse fire in 2004, one way of maintaining value in your remaining stock, I suppose, especially if you still own most of it. Countering these facts a lovely nugget, spread over two pages, praises Samuel Courtauld’s support of the impressionists when no one else would buy their work.
      There appears an increasing number of young people contributing to things who seem totally out of sync with life. After Brexit you’ll need six months remaining on your passport: standard procedure to me. Driving may mean an international licence as well as your British one—standard procedure when I was driving in America. Various other matters remain a matter of- negotiated adjustment, no need for panic measures at this stage. Not usual for The Times to get over-excited, so I assume it was in a mood of negativity.
      The reason the BBC is thinking of removing free viewing from over-75s. Yet according to the BBC: young people watch the BBC nearly twice as much as Netflix, Spotify or YouTube and BBC 1 is the biggest channel for 16—34-year-olds. Maybe but the BBC, envisioning financial straits that it may need my money to keep it going is a bit disturbing.
      The Times letter’s page is supportive of Welby’s social intervention and the editorial highlights the Police Commissioners’ failings; the persistent inadequacies of the Pope bringing his perverted clergy to heel [but is it the Pope, or the ancient members of the college of cardinals that is holding back the Roman Catholic church’s progress?]. Is Aung San Suu Kyi’s failings her failings, or the failings of the corrupt army generals controlling her situation, too easily over-riding the delicate situation in which she finds herself, so that hanging on in there is her country’s best option but can’t be promoted?

Ending the Day
Having one of my energy collapses, I was listening to Classic fm, when the programme changed over on a pre-set: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. I have the series on DVD but just switched in on impulse in order to switch out. Good night.

Friday 14^th September 2018                                                                                   
A lot of people are getting over excited that the Archbishop of Canterbury has spoken on real matters in a real world. Being part of the real world the CofE invests in the real world and is fully entitled to a view, which Welby has unashamedly expressed. I personally think he is right in those views but that is incidental to the fact of the matter, that he and his church be actively involved in today's realities, unlike the Catholic church which resolutely denies women's equality with men. That is declaring itself totally divorced from any concept of reality and rendering itself meaningless.

A salutary aspect from Berkhamsted's History Society blog
Scratching out a living...
"Mr. Baines, Inspector of Nuisances of Berkhampstead Union, charged Mrs. Puddifoot, of Little Gaddesden, with over-crowding her cottage... eighteen children at a [straw] plaiting school - nine over 13 years and nine under, and the defendant and her daughter. The room was 12ft.10in. by 12ft.6in., and 6 feet high to the ceiling. Defendant said she was a poor woman with no husband, and did not know that she did any wrong. She was fined, with expenses, 7s.6d., which she said she had no money to pay." (Herts Advertiser, May 1876).
      Photo of plait school in Potten End built by Mr Gravestock from flint and rubble picked up on his way home from Hemel Hempstead each week. At this time only the ivy was holding it together; it finally collapsed. (Jean Davis, Straw Plait, 1981)...

Back to today
An extraordinary moment/insight. Getting breakfast I heard a car door slam and looked out, observing a neighbour adjusting her seat belt prior to driving off, presumably to work. I suddenly lived a moment of someone else's life, envisaging how a new wife in an earlier period might feel; the family having left for work or school [I sensed newly wed and no children] and she, left behind to do the housework. I sensed a different life-style approach.
      Why? A momentary time-period cross over? An interlink with coffee conversation the previous day, when we had talked about personal histories, time periods and life-style changes? I had never previously thought of how my mother might have felt when I had gone to school and Ieft her behind at home, probably washing up, my father having caught an earlier train; or given any thought as to how her day might have gone.

Good morning world, one P such Esq. reporting in. Dawn is opening up a mid grey, cloud filled sky. Now I know how pilchards might feel when their lid is prised from their can, were they still alive to appreciate their release to the world.
      Yesterday was interesting. Francis arrived, as anticipated, to take me out for coffee and having taken home a brief shop from Waitrose, I headed out to Ashridge. Now the weather has cooled I felt like one of my regular jaunts, missing the summer days I had wasted due to the weather being too hot. A new, independent ice cream van, most attractively painted of a view of bluebells, showing a display of ices with which I was totally unfamiliar, gave me a "make do" for lunch; then I wandered familiar country lanes, admiring the view of Whipsnade zoo, its chalk lion standing out on the opposite hillside. Then back home down a deeply rutted lane through Aldbury, going back to Waitrose for some more light shopping.
      All in all, a casual "being" day, updating on family news and exchanging current commitments and intentions. Still bumbling along with mundane "must do" irritants but feeling reasonably purposeful this morning.

Tuesday 11^th September 2018
An up and down start to the week, the weekend was a dead duck of complete exhaustion but plans for Monday were greeted with a sense ‘things would happen’ and they did, the key point being a Watford visit but, pm a crash out through exhaustion.
      I had forgotten High Wycombe for Tuesday but despite a slow start managed to get going early and light traffic meant a quick journey. Just as well. The car park arrangements had been changed and it took me awhile to regain familiarity. Then building works had closed off my pathway and I had no idea which would be the better way round. The young girl I asked replied, “I’m thrown, I have no idea either!” and she lived there but she followed my lead and that turned out to be the best way!
      Rheumatology was running three-quarters of an hour late but my consultant was in the mood to speed through and after a fast but thorough going over concluded a chest X-ray would be providential, so I was despatched to X-ray on my way out. No paperwork, X-ray was expecting me before I’d started down the stairs. Results to follow. Where to now? Just meandered off along country lanes, making a lovely sojourn at Brill, a delightful little village on the crest of a hill, overlooking the Aylesbury Vale.
      Called in on my garage to discuss some matters and meet new staff, then dropped in on Francis and Susan for tea but they were busy and so made arrangements with Francis for coffee on Thursday on his way back home. All in all a reasonably satisfactory day. Good night all!

Sunday 9^th September 2018
In an article in The Guardian recently, Mariella Frostrup wrote that David Graeber, the LSE anthropologist and author, concluded that 37-40% of people feel their jobs are pointless; worse still, they are generally correct.
      This was in an article in response to an obviously highly talented medical student who had immersed herself in her studies to cover loneliness. The student had also observed she was naturally shy and withdrawn, despite which she had clearly sought out a life of deep and diverse experience.
Perhaps it is a case of not pausing sufficiently to objectively look around, something of which I am occasionally accused. If one does pause and think one finds one is in fact doing better than one thinks one is.
      I recall when my fiancée decided not to marry me, I buried myself for three years in an OU arts degree, at the same time as holding down a full time job in production management. Preceded by spending the down deposit on a house on a grand tour around the US—the timing coincided with British friends who, having been in the States for five years were approaching the point, return or stay? In case they came back they chose a grand tour, it helped convince them to stay and they became American citizens. I was too English to do other than regularly visit.
     I mention this because some while back two issues arose through Fb. One was biased towards loneliness, the other towards depression. In my view, although separate subjects, there is an inter-relatedness. In matters of health I notice a similar inter-relatedness with tiredness and depression. I made notes and intended following through the discussion. I've just reminded, myself! Anon for now.

Tuesday 4^th September 2018
A DAY IN THE LIFE
The mist, lying in the further depths of the valley, lend an autumnal aspect but the temperature inside is 74ºF; the sun, breaking through medium heavy cloud, intimates a full and long day: still summer but with a distinct autumnal feel, as was the case yesterday.
      Yesterday highlighted the need to listen to myself. It boded well from the beginning. I tend to let myself go during days of in-house preoccupation but today was an annual diabetes check-over, so a serious freshen up but no food. A late dinner the previous night kept me literally within the twelve hours of the required fasting blood sample. The surgery was fresh and  sparkling, everyone bright and breezy, the sun shining through the large windows, it was a converted domestic property of some previous substance.
            On to the Crows’ Nest for breakfast, the view across the Aylesbury Vale phenomenal but the restaurant a babble of seemingly pre-school-age children. I had always thought I would have been a good parent had I married. Perhaps it is age but I seemed not to have the patient tolerance demanded, yet I was feeling relaxed but a relaxed mood of enjoying quietude. Had school term not started yet? Presumably these were parents returning from a week away—there is an hotel next door.
            Having enjoyed my cooked breakfast, which was literally breaking a fast, I momentarily thought I was heading for High Wycombe but in fact only to Amersham, so I corrected my journey by meandering country lanes, down which I had not travelled for many a year. The only traffic, fortuitously meeting at convenient passing spaces and driven by experienced drivers accustomed to bearing in mind where those spaces were, as they drove along.
            Amersham hospital was a disaster. Normally I’m in and out within half-an-hour, the free of charge period in which one can park but they were already queuing and it was half-an-hour to get a space and I sensed it was going to be a long wait, so I paid a full two hours to cover contingencies. I was right! A full hour-and-a-half for a non-fasting blood sample for my review at High Wycombe in a week’s time, there were nearly thirty people in front of me.
            I had intended having lunch on my way to Watford where I had some messy business to sort out. On the spur of the moment I headed home, intending to make do on my journey but then realised I was close to “done in” and lost the after-noon recovering, dozing into the evening. I don’t like wasting time but it is a matter of balance and this morning I know it was the right thing to do. Domestic things to be done, coolly and calmly, plan tomorrow out. So for now, cheers, folks.
       

PARLIAMENTARY WORK AHEAD

Boundary clarification. How many seats and what preferred size of constituency population?

Proportional representation. Which system?

House of Lords? Should it be elected or appointed and upon what classification? Originally based on the realities of the day: Spiritual; Legal; Defence; land ownership; hereditary entitlement.

Today? Spiritual but across the faiths (define), including pure secularism/humanitarianism (all appointed/elected by their respective churches); Legal, as is; Political (variable by proven worth, such as past ministers or retired professional senior civil servants and limited party nominations); representatives of Capital, Financial Services, Labour (all either retired or active, appointed or elected by their respective accredited bodies); Education (ditto precedents stated); Health (ditto); Other?

The whole re-viewable by a statutory committee reporting with recommendations to parliament on a ten yearly basis to cover relevance of classifications in the then current world. Modus operandi as at present.