Paint, Twitter and eat...

Another day of joy and gladness today.  The grey clouds and east wind cheered the morning and the afternoon was so slow that I got the paint out again and finished the windows in the East Wing.  This I had been avoiding as the east wind that has hung around for over a week comes hurtling through the window freezing this place even if outside the world is in T-shirt mode.  No doubt my limited health will fall apart again after an hour or so of the draught.  At least that is another job off the 'to do' list.  Tomorrow much time will now be spent trying to open it again...

Much of my day has otherwise been spent seeking proper news on Twitter.  It is becoming my first place for news, even if much of the news is fake and half the rest contradicts what everyone else says.  The normal media appears to be a numbers count where nobody stops to ask questions.  For instance, if a car crashes and someone dies the police investigate, if thousands die the numbers are quoted and life goes on.  Something missing somewhere?  
The most interesting news comes from the infighting at the 'Times' and 'Sunday Times' where editors have or are changing and soon they will be run as one title.  That title, starting with the Sunday edition will be more of a liberal-ish paper aimed at the young at heart.  Rupert appears to think the 'Telegraph' can keep the old readership as most of them are dying off, and the Conservative Party is helping that.  His mate Boris is unhappy with the Sunday paper for publishing the truth about him, so watch this space any time soon, Michael Gove certainly is watching. 
The only other noticeable thing is I appear to be putting on weight, I wonder how...? 

Paint Shop

Painting the window frames with a cold draught coming in under the bottom window, slightly ajar, while having the heat full on to keep the rest of me warm is not great I must say.  However that is one of three windows that require gloss paint, the others can wait until it gets warmer.  
These frames have been there since 1812 as far as I can see.  That is when the house was built, before it was amended as most houses here of any age have been.  Being listed Grade II the windows have to remain as they are.  The rear of the house had new PVC ones put in a year or so ago but alas we have to do without.  This means painting the frames every so often, or in my case, not so very often.  Fiddly frames, dust appearing from nowhere, spiders webs also, and the great temptation to drop the tin on passers-by outside.  Still that one is done, the rest will be done soon.

Tomorrow I must go shopping.  I need to panic buy for anti-virus shopping.  Tinned foods for self isolating, disinfectant for touching people and actual food for my stomach.  I had better clear space in the freezer, I may need to buy a lot.  Someone in the county, somewhere, has the dreaded virus.  I must say this is not the time I would wish to be sitting at a checkout dealing with the public.  I have seen people coughing over the checkout staff with no conscience, the girls have to just sit there and take t, many managers put the customer first, not the staff.  I hope they disinfect the cash that is handed over, you never know where that has been.

Painting with Cassette Tapes

Due to the weekend and an unfortunate bout of laziness I have only just finished painting the window frames I began last week.  Today, in spite of the howling wind coming through the gap in the window, I managed to get the job done while listening to an old tape from Radio 4, Siegfried Sassoon's 'Memories of an Infantry Officer,' a fictionalised account of his war.  I realised when this had stopped and all I had to listen to was the voices in my head, thoughts from here and there, good and bad, going nowhere, which explained builders who turn on 'Radio 1' loudly, even though they are far from that age group, just to have something lively in the background.  I'm reminded by this of a cartoon on a building site from long ago where one young man with a perplexed expression is looking for his transistor radio.  Smirking brickies carrying on regardless in the foreground appear to have mistaken this radio for a brick, it now takes its place in the wall.  
I can understand his mates also!
The main problem with finishing the window frames is that it leaves the need to now finish the other rooms also.  This is more difficult.  This means moving things, hoovering behind items unmoved since yon time, dusting, washing, then preparing.  Somehow the enthusiasm appears to have disappeared.  Enthusiasm is not encouraged when looking at the other jobs undone, half done or just waiting to be done.  
I er, think I need to listen to the wireless and cogitate to work up enthusiasm again...

 

Leisure Hours...

In between the return of the bug which leaves me lying on the floor wishing I was dead I have moments of action.  The word 'action' may be a bit strong here.  However this week I took it upon myself to finish the Spring cleaning I started about two or three years ago.  This meant examining the wooden sash window frames, which appear original, and that means 1812, to clean them and ensure the window opens properly.  In the end it was easier to make use of Matt white emulsion and just wash them down and paint them.  Old small windows with lots of squarish small panes mean lots of awkward wooden bits to paint while at awkward angles!  The front one is now done, notice I am ignoring the demand to add gloss paint on top, and not only the small kitchen window also but the entire kitchenette walls I finished this morning.
I now ache all over!
Being to sedentary means such an effort, once quite easy, although it is years since I painted the windows last, now it means aches everywhere and a desire to sit and read books.  However I am glad I have got that far, the bedroom window, and indeed the walls require doing nest!  Just wait until I start moving everything...actually we will just do the window for now.  The wall can wait...

Sunny Paint

In spite of the heat, 89% F. at best today, I wandered out to get my hair cut by the miserable one that does not like me.  Still, I got him talking about one of his ex-favourite activities and that helped before he through me out with a false smile hoping I would go elsewhere.  I have that ability, the ability to make friends, I rarely use it.

 
I wandered over for the free bus which naturally I missed.  This meant a 20 minutes wait until the driver bothered to return.  He also was hating me, and indeed everybody else I reckon, as he trundled along as slowly as possible, almost running into a car at a roundabout as he was poncing about too much, and eventually got us to the end of what is normally a three minute drive.  He was quicker coming back as I suspect he finished at noon which is when we returned.
My need was for paint!
Yes indeed. the bedroom I promised to paint three, or was it four, years ago is now on the 'to do' list.  I wandered about the overpriced shops with nothing to see, almost bought a shirt but considered it a bit poncy for me, saw a similar one later (£45!) which I also decided to leave and joined the sweating throng and headed for B&Q.  
Paint!  White paint, matt, for walls, that was all I wanted.
I could not see it!
There were aisles of 'Dulux' which is expensive, aisles of coloured paints, big pots, small pots, huge pots, but I wanted white not 'harmony' or 'sea blue' or 'felicity' or whatever it was.  
So I asked.
"Round the next aisle," she said contemptuously, knowing I was an idiot and had not thought of seeking out a FIFTH aisle full of paint pots!
There, beside a women confused by the words 'matt' and 'silk' on the pots I found my paint.
At least I found one I could carry.  £11 worth of paint sit outside my door, this in case the landlord or his men pass by and therefore are impressed by my desire to paint, and will do so until I find he energy and desire.  This may not happen at the moment but this is a start.  
I will inform you of progress within the next 12 months.

 
It appears my prayers have not been answered while I slept after lunch this afternoon.  Boris is now inside No. 10 Downing Street planning to destroy the nation, or at least bumbling a few words before he allows the rest of the louts around him to destroy the free world, he himself will be doing little I expect.  I was praying the police would arrest him for some forgotten misdemeanour and take him away along with the rest of them.  I am somewhat disappointed. 

I would write more but the contents of that 'Yorkshire Bitter' bottle have removed all desire from me and instead made me desire sausage and chips.  I do not see how I can refuse such a desire?

Tidy Workplace

Today, while the world turned unhindered by my presence, I moved the desk, which does not come apart, painted, hoovered and painted and hoovered and fought with the furniture to place it in a better position.  How can such a small job take all day?  When I think of 'The Venomous Bead's' new building and all the work required, with or without doors, I envy them the energy and talent that has gone into it.  Moving in with the help of the men at full speed I envy not however.  How could they create a new building so quick and I struggle to paint mine?
Of course the things I found behind the desk are interesting.  No idea what some of them are but I am sure they will plug into some device unused since yon time.  However it is wonderful to see clean walls, torn paper right enough but clean walls and a desk now better organised.  Next stop bookcase corner, moving the books, moving the bookcases, painting, returning things in better order.  That should take a week!

   Theresa May

This is the woman who will become the new Prime Minister as of Wednesday evening.  Who is she, what will she do?  

She claimed years ago that the Tory Party must get rid of the 'Nasty party' image.  Since then we have had years of Eton toffs running the country, more suffering for those on benefits, a rise in the number of Foodbanks from 66 to over a thousand, and a growing divide between rich toffs and the rest.  She claims today she wishes to end this divide.

Now she is a Tory, and worse a woman!  This never brings good things to the land.  However I am of a mind that she does indeed wish to change the 'Nasty party' into a more open one, and as a woman she, unlike Thatcher, is actually female!  This will bring a new view of the Tory boys to us all.

Stubborn and pig headed - she is a woman - she will push her ideas through.  We wait and see what her new cabinet will look like, that should start appearing on Thursday or Friday, and this will give a hint to the direction she will take regarding her promises.

We can do nothing but hope she will remove the stain of the past six years.  We can only hope something positive for most will arise.  We can only hope she is not the serf of Mr Murdoch!

Theresa May has always been a private person not keen on PR or too much public attention.  This role will change that but I suspect she is ready, she has been planning to reach for it for some time and now she is here we will see what she is made off.

Watching Paint Dry

So far I have managed to paint half a room.
The painting is quite straightforward.  I take the paint, apply it to the roller and spread it over the wall, the ceiling, the floor, the furniture and myself.  This in spite of acres of plastic sheeting, spending half the day just shifting things into spaces that don't exist and being as careful as I always happen to be.  had it not been for the window I would paint naked as it would be easier to clean afterwards.  This suggestion has not met with support from colleagues who muttered "Cap'n Ahab, thar she bows!" In a rather unkind manner.  
This morning, intending to continue on this side, I replaced the items from the other back where they belong.  This was going well until I decided to change things and naturally it has all fallen apart.  The exercise of moving things this way and that might be good for me but it is a pain just the same.
As I spent all day at the museum yesterday (95 children from that school!) I was not inclined to do anything that evening.  I still wasn't this morning.  However I managed to get something done except for the vast amount of stuff all over the floor placed in such a manner to ensure I fall over it constantly.

  
Much of the time has been spent considering better bookcases (of the cheap variety) that would be more appropriate for that corner.  Also deciding whether to move everything around and as always realising there is only one place they can all fit.  That and scraping white dots from almost anything to hand fills the day.  

 

The Conservative Party leadership election continues apace, a slow pace that is.  The rigged Tory only election has been easy to read, with all decent characters, that is able men, ruled out, only inept half wit men were able to stand, they are left with a choice between two women who have all the ideology of Margaret Thatcher but without the intellect.  This is so Theresa May, seen in this rigged picture, will be able to continue destroying the nation as ably as Cameron and Osborne had been doing up till now.  

May keeps herself to herself, has until now few friends in government, a husband who is a director of Group 4, a company who have failed and failed again spectacularly yet for some reason keep getting government contracts to run prisons, escort prisoners, run security at events and the like.  All fail, all cost vast sums and all contracts are renewed at great cost to the famous taxpayer.  

As Home Secretary May has cut the numbers of police, prison warders, and wishes to do more of this.  She hates the NHS and anything socialist, like care for others, and will undoubtedly be created Prime Minister in a few weeks time.

Her opponent whatsername is apparently a Christina and as such has been pilloried by the perverts in the media as you'd expect.  Few have bothered much about her dubious CV, her lack of ability and experience and none have mentioned she is only there to allow Theresa May to win.

The nation trembles.

My Joy Continues

Returning home yesterday morning from St Paul's where I had been persuaded to add my name to the church booklet (does this mean I'm an Anglican heretic?) I discovered the place swarming with these bees.  The kitchen was full of the brutes and having cleared them out I spent the rest of the day forcing more, in one's and two's, out of other windows.
Where did they come from?
I have a horrid idea that a Queen has found a home in the side of the house and we will have this lot all summer buzzing around the kitchen window, hovering across my delicacies and being annoyed by my swiping them with a rolled up newspaper.
Oh joy!

  
How old is this oak tree?  This one has sat here near a p-lace called 'Hanging Hill' for many a day.
i wonder if it is 300 years old or thereabouts?  They do last a long time.
Whether 'Hanging Hill' was used for hangings has not yet been proved but the name comes from somewhere.  Possibly a corruption of an old English word, possibly where they hanged miscreants. Rough justice in these parts in days gone by.  There again the justice was served by the local nobles and not near this place, and hangings took place shortly after sentence unless you were an important bod. 
So who planted the trees down by the river?  Did they occur naturally or was there a plan?  I suppose we will never know.  Today this is a pleasant but muddy wander along the unseen river at this point.  That appears later when a wooden path has been constructed. 

The far banks were until recently the grounds of a convent of some sort.  Here the nuns and their visitors could relax and contemplate while pushing one another into the river for fun.  Next time I take the bike out I will trundle down the councils newly laid path that runs around this area and see if I can find anything interesting.
Treasure chests, dead bodies, plastic bottles and empty beer cans possibly. 

The rain clouds, complete with a tiny airplane, threatened me all the time I wandered along.  Pah!

Now I have to spend the morning furniture shifting, wall painting (which will go on for ever at my rate) and go to the museum for an afternoons volunteer get together.  When, ask I, will I get my siesta?  

Watching Paint Dry.

Yesterday the chill in the air was softened by the blue in the sky.  Daffodils lowered their bright yellow heads in the wind, bright 'cotton wool' clouds scudded by, dogs chased imaginary objects yapping in the park.  I awoke this morning to rain lashing the grubby windows, the huddled masses cowering under hoods, caps and umbrellas as they headed to work and the decision to stay indoors and finish the painting was made for me.  

That was not long after seven of the clock and moving at a fast pace I was up and painting by ten thirty five.  A second coat of cheap white emulsion in the small bathroom, a first coat on the small hall.  The balancing on the three step ladder is improving and I only fell off once.  That wall was getting painted anyway!  The ceiling looks good now even though my sense of direction failed me several times.   Even better it looks good enough not to require a second coat, which is good as there is little paint left.  In the morning all the pictures will be put back on those nails you see sticking out, once the grime is removed from them, and life can return to some sort of normality.  

The normality means returning to building that PC.  Now that most bits are in and connected I have come across yet another problem, the not connected bits, the connected bits that may be connected to wrong bits, and why is there no connector for one or two bits?  All very confusing to my befuddled mind. Now the paint is no longer bespotting my glasses I can spend more time watching how the experts do it.  If they have the same bits I have, naturally.  

      

The clouds returned at several times today.  I ventured out for bread as another dark looming cloud brought spots of rain but it did allow me this shot.  The type of shot we get a lot of at this time of year.  It might yet be a shot of snow tomorrow if my aches allow me out!  

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Monday 24th

After a breakfast of stale bread and mushrooms, the mushrooms were growing on the heel of the bread, I decided I needed to both exercise and shop so I wandered far down the road to the 'Lidl' place where folks tell me things are real bargains.
The lied!  As in a previous venture there I found the store cluttered, confusing, prices badly displayed if displayed at all and the customers rough!  Not what I am used to in Tesco.  The bread was poor and overpriced, two items I bought were under false prices and nothing appeared to be cheaper than the regular shops, so why do folks claim this place is cheaper?  Not to me it aint.  The three main supermarkets have cheaper prices in my view, or maybe I just know better as to how to work them I wonder?  Having walked all that way in chilly bright sunshine I then had to walk all the way back again, not one person offered me a lift.  
Having discovered on Saturday just how unfit I am I rediscovered this while crawling back home. Several cups of tea and a long perusal of Jerry's new book I then had a choice of fixing the PC at last or painting the bathroom.  Here again I was wrong as I realised I had to make soup first.  Lentil soup of my own recipe, the kind of thing that puts hair on your chest, it certainly does that for the pot I make it in!  I will leave it fermenting overnight to see what happens. I may get a Nobel Prize for chemistry one day.  Then came the painting. However after struggling with the first coat, including the ceiling, including learning the art of falling off without landing in the bath, I decided that was enough and found myself fair puggled with all the effort.  The second coat can wait, and luckily I have the museum tomorrow so it may wait until Wednesday.  However after all this I still have loads of stuff that require attention!  How come I am so busy, in between medical assistance, that so much has not been done yet?  Do I need a secretary perhaps?
I would have written something much more interesting but I was forced to watch Hull City beating Brighton tonight. Tsk! 

The picture is just part of the old workhouse/hospital extension that caught my eye in the sun this morning.  Looking up you often see such things on buildings, on occasion they are interesting.

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Cheap Paint on Kitchen Walls...

Kitchen ceiling, kitchen floor, kitchen sink, cooker, washing machine, kitchen window, me....... 

So glad it's just a wee kitchenette....

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Sunset

Having spent the whole day enclosed in the museum once again it was a delight to be out in the open air, even if only taking the free bus down to B&Q for a tin of paint!  The sky was wonderful, and I am afraid my picture does not capture the vibrant colours as they actually were, still it's a good shot.  Such a shame the car park and the rest of the shopping centre spoilt the view.  Such a shame also that after this even more cloud and rain storms will fall across the southern part of the nation tonight adding to the woes already encountered.  I must admit it is only tonight, once I actually took time to look at the TV pictures, that I realised how widespread the floods have been. Indeed one of the streams near here flooded today leaving my boss with an hours delay this morning.  I am even more glad to be here, slightly higher than the area round about.  What devastation the floods have caused, a combination of very heavy continual rainfall and high tides arriving at the same time.  Acres of low lying land flooded, houses also, rail lines destroyed, and only now does the government appear to be responding properly.  Of course at the moment there is little to be done but suffer until the rain stops and the waters recede.  Maybe Councillor David Silvester was right after all?

This was where I spent my day, while on my desk back home among the dust particles lay a long list of jobs requiring urgent attention, hence the trip to B&Q!  The cheapest matt emulsion they had was obtained and I will spend some of Saturday splashing it across the small kitchen as this is a quicker and more efficient way to improve the look than attempting to clean it all down!  The bad side of this is that everything else will look dim in comparison and I will then require more paint to do the East Wing.  Actually sitting putting barcodes on small toys and discussing a historic building was more enjoyable really.  Who knows what will happen next here.  The lass who bullies me is leaving and no one appears sure what will happen now.  We of course will be the last to know as always.  I'm annoyed she leaves as the place was fun, even if she fussed like a woman and panicked too often, that is my job!  Who knows who will arrive now.

So now I am attempting to return my mind to equilibrium (is that a country?) by reading your blogs and seeking sleep.  As the pic features clouds you may wish to peruse Kays blog tonight as she has a few pictures worth a look, although she always ensures she finds a way of getting into at least one of them!  To make matters worse there is no football to watch tonight, how rough can things be I ask?  In the morning, after shopping, painting and clearing up the weeks mess I will respond to blogs that require, indeed need, an answer, till then I just read and enjoy them.

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Happy Smile Club

One club we all enthusiastically joined whether we like it or not was the 'Happy Smile Club.'  The entire primary school accepted membership to encourage us to clean our teeth morning or night. The success of this club is shown in the many fillings I have since obtained, although seven of these arrived by my insistence on eating cheap chewing gum! While in London cheerful Australian dentists working their way across Europe helpfully removed more, and took some of the nerves with them, and asked me to answer questions while my mouth was frozen solid. These memories ran through my addled brain this morning while I mused upon the trip across the road to Dr Sanei. A lovely man he may be but he is a dentist!  As such he is armed with a lovely smile, a blonde (I note they are always blonde) dental nurse and a dirty big drill. He smiled, the nurse smiled, the receptionist smiled, and the drill stared.....   However he did nothing but 'give them a clean' with what appeared to be a 'Back and Decker' power drill. Then threw me out onto the street unwanted for another year.  The daylight looked a lot brighter when I emerged I can tell you.

As I sauntered through the market I cogitated on why dentists are usually depressed, well they are always looking down in the mouth aren't they? Anyway then it was back home to paint once again.  Half the room done in an afternoon and stopped only because of failing light.  It was impossible to differentiate what I had done from what had gone before, so I gave up. 

It is a strange sight when clearing things away to note paint on the shirt, the carpet, the door and ask yourself "Why is there Magnolia footprints walking down the stairs.....?"   I am reminded of the sight of bright emerald green ladies barefoot prints making their way into the Royal Free Hospital in the early eighties. Who had been on the end of them and how they got their I never discovered.  Possibly this was one of the medical student pranks that occasionally happened there. One year one or two thought it a laugh to race through the main entrance in a Mini Car and spin round and drive out again.  Medical students have always been in my mind the daftest of all students.  Possibly because once a doctor that straight laced bedside manner has to constantly be on call.  

All this effort is killing me, I have been a scrounger (@ 'Daily Mail reader) for so long that working half a day, shifting this, lifting that, going out for this and that, tote that barge, lift that bale, and then painting and putting it all back again is wearing me out.  To think I once worked hard lifting and carrying, sometimes things and at other times people, and now the slightest effort makes me long for my bed, an object which lies somewhere under that junk piled upon it when painting.  

It's a good job I am not one to complain, that's all I can say....    

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The Morning Crow

This is the morning crow, I rarely see him later in the day.  He and his mates gather to feed on the brats leftovers lying around, and rarely in, the abundant bins provided.  These crows are powerful birds and very confident in their strength at that.  Passing seagulls often land to help themselves and one crow will descend and chase the lot away.  They do not like it and circle screeching but rarely attempt to take on these boys.  
Not long ago I was up the road and noticed a dozen or so pigeons flocking together somewhat nervously.  Thy raced this way and that, keeping a tight formation and over my head passed a large hunting bird, a Kestrel or Hawk of some kind.  He ignored them and flew on at a steady pace to another area, probably because  a few feet behind him, and slightly to his right, followed  a crow, gently escorting him, like a Spitfire chasing a Heinkel, out off the area. A few years back, in London, the church opposite had a pecking order on the roof.  The pigeons lined up along the main part of the building, wood pigeons took to the tree, and the crows, lots of them, dominated the square tower overlooking everyone. On occasions a crow would sweep down and chase everyone away, just to show who was boss, but otherwise folks just got along well. That is until a Kestrel, which belonged to a nearby church tower, decided to land on this one and have seat in the afternoon sun. Boy was he unpopular!  The pigeons decided to move elsewhere and all the crows gathered to yell at the stranger.  The noise was terrific but he just sat there on the corner shouting back.  After a while he flew off and was escorted out by a crowd of screaming banshees and never returned.  I'm not surprised!

I feel the need to do something physical.  So I said to the landlord's manager, "I will paint the hall for you," as they worked on the flat next door. So Friday, late on, I done a few 'edges' and on Saturday I spent a while (2hours in the morning and three in the afternoon) painting.  Yesterday I had to run into Colchester because the dole have put me on a 'work' programme.  This meant getting up at the crack of dawn to get the ten o'clock train. A huge queue was grumbling there as the 'chip and pin' 'Visa' card system was not issuing tickets and they were having much trouble getting through the folk.  The train was due and normally all would have been well. not today! As I eventually got to the hole in the wall I decided not to use the card as the train was about to leave  and offered money (where did I get that?) and the train doors closed.  He threw the tickets at me and shouted to the rest "Pay on the train!" We charged the doors and got on just!  I then had almost an hour in the boring part of Colchester to wait for my appointment which took 20 minutes and got nowhere.  While waiting to be paid my fares (the best bit off the day) meant a long queue behind one man who was chancing his arm enquiring as to how he could make more out of it, I mean get paid also.  I then had another hour wandering around before my train was due.  I arrived home knackered, it was almost as if I had worked! This morning I finished the painting and stood back and understood why I never became a decorator.  There was more on the carpet and on me than on the wall, and the dust sheet was sticking a bit also. Still I might get a bit of work helping out as there is too much for the two bodgers to do themselves. Oh me back!  Now I have to do my bedroom with left over paint also. is there no end to this? I had forgotten working was so tiring,  I'm off to bed... 




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