What I've been reading

Charlotte's Web
by E. B. White

"This is the story of a little girl named Fern who loved a little pig named Wilbur, and of how Wilbur's dear friend, Charlotte, a beautiful grey spider, saved Wilbur from the usual fate of nice fat pigs."

A lovely tale which I must have read when I was young, but I remembered virtually nothing about it until I picked up this copy that Lola II and Mr M were going to send off to a charity shop. Much more interesting than I was expecting from a book for under 11-year-olds.

Near Future
by Suzannah Evans

"Doom-pop-poetry with an apocalyptic edge, a darkly humorous journey through sci-fi lullabies and northern mysteries. This is a future simulation stripped of the space-age gloss of progression - one where the robots have gone rogue and the hopes of a new millennium are malfunctioning; a skewed yet oddly familiar world gone uncannily wrong"

I could go as far as to say that I don't like poetry; it was mismanaged at school a bit like the gruesome lunchtime rice pudding. I didn't understand what I was supposed to do with prose in English lessons, let alone this weird stuff. Over time my objections have lessened (and I positively like rice pudding now). One of the other people on retreat with me recently is a poet, and brought a load of poetry books that we were encouraged to have a look at, lucky dip style. I picked out a book on the basis that it wasn't very thick, and started reading. Now I think I may be converted. I kept the book for a few days, and came back again and again to some of the poems, which contained short stories in a few words, a bit like the lyrics of  my favourite songs. If I weren't trying hard to reduce the books in the house, I would even consider buying it - and I still might. Here's a link to the author reading one of the poems that I particularly liked.

The Mill on the Floss
by George Eliot

narrated by Fiona Shaw

"Brought up at Dorlcote Mill, Maggie Tulliver worships her brother Tom and is desperate to win the approval of her parents, but her passionate, wayward nature and her fierce intelligence bring her into constant conflict with her family."

I was slightly worried about embarking on this book given that I didn't really enjoy Middlemarch and that's supposed to be one of the greatest novels in the English language. But this was much shorter and a lovely story, beautifully read, and very relevant and accessible. The 19th century has to be my favourite era for novels (with one or two exceptions - see below!)

Meeting the Buddhas: A Guide to Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and Tantric Deities
by Vessantara

"An introduction to the most well-known and important Buddhas, deities and other sacred figures of Buddhism. Each is imaginatively brought to life for the reader presenting their major characteristics along with illustrations, visualizations, symbols, mantras and myths."

The earlier chapters covering the figures I've frequently heard of are much more interesting than the later chapters that introduce obscure Tibetan deities. It's a useful reference work and I may go back to it, but I'm glad I borrowed it from the library rather than bought it for myself.

The Scarlet Letter
by Nathaniel Hawthorne

"In the eyes of her neighbours Hester Prynne has committed an unforgivable sin. Everyone knows that her little daughter, Pearl, is the product of an illicit affair but no one knows the identity of Pearl's father. She stands strong in the face of public scorn, even when she is forced to wear the sign of her shame sewn onto her clothes: the scarlet letter 'A' for 'Adulteress'"

This was written at almost exactly the same time as 'The Mill on the Floss', but is a very different reading experience. I really don't understand why this book is so well regarded; I thought it was awful. The story could fit onto one page and everything else seems utterly redundant, and the archaic language is puzzling given how easily it is to understand George Eliot's writing. Perhaps dialect in New England diverged from that in England, or maybe he wrote deliberately in an old-fashioned way in order to relate a story from older times. Either way, I wouldn't recommend it.

Fortunate times

Riverhill Himalayan Garden, June 2021

Looking back, we have had a lot of dog pictures recently, haven't we? I have more up my sleeve, but it's flowers again today, even though I should have been looking after the lovely Caddie for the weekend. Her regular foster family's plans fell through so she didn't come to me after all.

I was on retreat again last week, and will be going away again soon for another retreat. For the first eight months of this year I have rather overcommitted myself to a variety of retreats and volunteering opportunities through a combination of 'End of Lockdown!' and 'Why Not?' From September onwards I have fewer commitments, although as that time draws nearer it's quite possible I'll start volunteering for things again and fill up those months too.

The retreat was lovely, and I took my tent along for the hottest and driest camping trip ever. Apart from the glorious weather there were workshops for poetry, drawing, collage, mantra chanting and mandala drawing as well as talks, groups and ritual and some walking in the beautiful countryside. It was a more social experience than my last mainly silent retreat. And as an added bonus I managed to visit Bee Lady and Former Landrover Man on the way, although Bee Lady has now stopped keeping bees. FLRM and FBL are both well and we enjoyed a lovely lunch and a short walk.

The main event since coming home was periodontal surgery, which involved local anaesthetic on two different areas followed by cutting through the gum to deep clean the teeth and sew me back up again. I am fairly cowardly when it comes to dentistry, but realised that the extreme shaking was due to the powerful air conditioning being directed at me, and managed to indicate that I was shivering from cold rather than fear. Apparently it all went very well, although I find it very hard to believe that at least twenty years of chronic infection can be cured in this way despite the periodontist's confident prediction. I have a second similar ordeal to endure in about a month's time and then we'll see whether the outcomes are as good as he predicts.

And lastly, I decided it was time to mow the lawn again today and opened the garage door from the garden only to find that the front 'up-and-over' door to the street had been forced open, and there were boot marks on the side door and evidence that they had tried to prise that door open too, but failed. The car wasn't damaged and nothing was taken, so I'm left with a thankful feeling that I got off rather lightly.

Adhisthana, October 2021

Gas men

Friston, April 2022

As a nation we have experienced a four-day weekend prompted by the glorious reign of Queen Elizabeth the Second, God bless her and her eye-searing outfits. Nobody can say she doesn't rock a strong colour statement at the age of 96. Anyway, I took very little notice of the whole event and didn't turn on the TV at all, but received as much news as I wished via the odd radio news headline, which I listen to between 08.00 and 08.10 each morning. Too much news at the moment is very bad for the health.

So I pootled down to see mum and dad on the Friday, and travelled via cousin Y's new house to Lola II and Mr M, arriving just in time for an impromptu whisky tasting, as they were looking for new food/whisky combinations. We had a strange supper of roast parsnip and whisky, dried apricot, dried mango and dates and whisky, Danish Blue cheese and whisky and probably more that I've forgotten, accompanied by bread and ending with chocolate, banana and tahini cake. And whisky. It was fun, and I slept well.

There is more to relate regarding the stiff gas tap problem which was diagnosed by my Gas Safety man, followed by much sucking of teeth from the Gas Infrastructure man who then visited, after which I hoped the issue would go away. But no, I was contacted to arrange another visit, and had a nice conversation about how inaccessible the gas tap is and how I don't really want them knocking my house about. I discovered that the repair is not compulsory, which was good news, but that they would send another Gas Infrastructure man to see if the first Gas Infrastructure man was right or not. 

GI man 2's view was the opposite of GI man 1, and he set about replacing the stiff gas tap within the confines of its tiny cupboard. The next time I wandered down to see how GI man 2 was getting on, the whole meter was out of the cupboard and he was preparing to depart, with the promise that I would be visited by someone else to re-connect the gas, light the boiler again and test to make sure all was well.

Someone else turned out to be two people - GI man 3 was actually a GI youth: a trainee supervised by GI man 4.  GI man 4 was only slightly older than the meter, which dated from 1987, and GI trainee was considerably younger. Once they'd connected the meter and tested for leaks, they moved to the kitchen. "How do we know the gas is connected properly?" asked GI man 4, standing in front of the boiler. "Turn on the hot water tap?" suggested trainee GI trainee. "It's not a combi boiler," reminded GI man 4. "I hate boilers," said GI trainee, more than once. The answer is that you turn the heating/hot water on and go and look to see if the meter shows that gas is flowing.

The work in Pub Next Door is advancing slowly. I visit the crew every day at least once - there was more noise as they broke up the concrete at the front and dug holes for new gate posts; they have created a new bin space and lined the end wall with timber prior to replacing the corrugated plastic roof with something more pleasing and sturdy. They requested some squash on the hottest day, I bought them some chocolate fingers, they are replacing the fencing at the top of our adjoining wall which means I get a wave and a grin through the window when I go into the kitchen, which for this recluse is slightly disturbing. Griff (the man in charge) is now my BFF, but I'm quite glad I'll be away for much of next week.

A lot of stuff going on

Bobby (and toy), May 2022

As usual there's been plenty of Buddhist action, including a day retreat in which, among other activities, we started creating a decorated cloth using different types of printing. There were only eight of us there and I'm keen for as many people as possible to make their mark, so we're going to finish it at another session in August. Then on Tuesday the key to our hall wasn't in its usual place and we were unable to contact the key-keeper, so we decamped to a nearby pub for a drink instead. Not so unfortunate, except that next week we have a planned social in a pub, so two in a row. Fortunately we didn't have a visiting speaker, or it would really have been difficult.

I played badminton on Monday for the first time in ages (the Buddhism teacher was away). I haven't been able to go to Thursday badminton for ages either, what with retreats, meetings and other events, but I thought I'd be able to go on the coming Thursday. Then I contacted my refugee guest, who (following a suggestion by Mr M) is likely to be known as Ukraine Jane (although her name isn't Jane). She is still trying to work out how to bring the cat with her, because the bus company she originally found has now changed its mind. I consulted the group I'm part of as a sponsor/host, and got the feedback that a) it's really difficult and b) one family went over to France to pick up their guests and their dog in order to get them into the UK.

When I heard this my initial reaction was that my generosity wouldn't extend this far, but with a bit of time to think, I thought, why not? I spent a bit of time researching and worked out how it could be done, with Jane trying to chase the licence that the cat needs through some bureaucratic British office, and the only day that would work for me was Thursday, so no badminton again. Except that a day is a long time in the Homes for Ukraine scheme, and Jane's parents are going to have to return to Kyiv or lose their jobs and income, and she was starting to think about leaving the cat with them and fetching it later when the licence is certain. Until she found details of someone who is travelling from the UK with supplies in a minibus and offering the return trip to people with pets. So I'm happy with whatever she decides and ready to wait and see if I get to go to badminton on Thursday after all. Then the badminton booker realised it's a Bank Holiday and cancelled the session.

So no badminton on Thursday, and I found out about a different group specifically focussing on this thorny issue of bringing pets from Ukraine. When I joined that one it became very clear that unless Jane gets onto this minibus she's found there's pretty much no other way except going in person to France and bringing the animal back in the car. And even then others have reported administrative nightmares at the port.

A few other things of note: I took up an offer of a free hearing test because everyone in my family who is older than me has hearing loss and I thought it would be interesting. It was carried out in a room off the main waiting area and was almost too noisy to hear any of the test tones, so I don't think I'll be taking them up on any future offers. For what it's worth, my hearing was deemed to be good, so that's nice.

I've been doing more for Mr MXF. I got a lot done on one particular task that involved data collection and organisation, but I stopped doing that and asked Mr MXF to check what I'd done so that if it wasn't quite right I could fix it before going on rather than having to go back and correct everything. While he is thinking about this he has switched me to a new task which involves creating online forms. I went through the phase of not knowing what on earth I was doing, which I find very uncomfortable, and now have grasped the essentials and am quite enjoying it. I like a well-designed form.

Then there was a lot of noise from Pub Next Door's 'garden' - a concrete area with decking which had a marquee when drinking indoors wasn't allowed. I've pieced together what's going on after various conversations with workmen and bar staff - the area has been taken back to bare concrete and the plan is for a new resin floor to be laid, and no more decking. The noise escalated dramatically while they cut tracks in the concrete where cables will be laid for outside lighting, and subsided again for cement mixing. I've become quite friendly with the main builder and we have daily discussions about how the plans have changed. Because the base concrete layer is not level it looks as though some might be paved and the resin area limited to a rectangle in the middle. The marquee is probably going back, and the covered area at the end smartened up.

They also ripped out the drainage that I'd put in at the base of my wall, which showed how counter-productive that had been - rainwater had penetrated behind it and the bricks at the base of the wall were wet. One of the lessons I have learned through the LTRP, which I would do well to remember more often, is that the tradesmen who so confidently diagnose the problem and propose the solution actually know very little more about it than I do.

And pictured is Bobby, my newest boarder from the Guide Dog kennels, who has a naturally sad-looking face. He is a youngster early in his training, but better behaved than most of the other dogs I've looked after. He likes his soft toys but tends to bring me household things that aren't out of reach, and we've had a lovely time so far.