A week in London

Natural History Museum, London, November 2025

Some time ago I decided that Lola Towers is too big for me. I've lived there for nearly 24 years, and although it's just the way I want it now and it's also in the perfect location, I'm tired of the responsibility of maintaining both it and the garden it comes with. I've kept it in good condition (at least since Mr A departed) but still there's the roof, the boiler, the shower, the paintwork, and everything else that demands attention, let alone the bills for heating a large Victorian house.

Following a logical train of thought with many considerations both of lifestyle and of finance, I talked to mum about the possibility of moving in with her. She seemed to like the idea, so this has been the additional motivation for GRUHI, for giving notice to UJ, and now for an experimental week's stay with mum. Lola Towers bid me farewell during Storm Claudia by letting water into the kitchen through a different part of the ceiling. I put down a towel, left a message for UJ, and set off anyway. It can wait until I get back.

While in London I shopped around for Buddhist communities. The nearest is actually the largest Centre in the UK, the London Buddhist Centre in Bethnal Green. Coming from one of the smallest groups to the largest might not be my best option in terms of getting to know people, so during the week I attended the Saturday morning group at the North London Centre, the Tuesday evening group in Hertford, and the Wednesday evening group in Chelmsford (as well as the Thursday evening meeting at the LBC). None stood out as the perfect venue so I'll keep my options open for the time being, and visit them all again another time.

Apart from Buddhist activity I've obviously spent some quality time with mum - we have cooked (she has been very complementary about the results) and watched a bit of TV together, and I taught her a new card game (after about three rounds she was already beating me). There are also all the jobs that need doing, including sorting out confusing emails, the change in mobile phone contract that Tesco unilaterally imposed, getting rid of a lot more of the paperwork accumulated by dad and generally making myself useful.

On Monday morning I took myself off to the British Museum. I feel such a philistine when I say that it no longer appeals the way it once did. I visited the exhibition about China from prehistory to modern day, and then I looked at the Egyptian mummies, and even though it was OK and mildly interesting, my pleasure was frequently interrupted by the thought that most of the contents of the cases were acquired from indigenous people without their permission, let's say.

In the afternoon I met Lola II and in the evening we met up with Mr M for my last 60th birthday meal (of three), this time at a Venezuelan restaurant. It took me four months to book the first one, and this one took place just ten days short of a year after that. I like to make birthdays last.

On Wednesday we had two notable events. First, a plumber arrived to help us trace a water leak, and by the way fixed the upstairs toilet flush (hooray). The water leak still needs more investigation, unfortunately. Second, two buyers visited to assess the huge collection of books that dad amassed, offered a frankly pitiful amount of money and took them all away. After cleaning the shelves we moved photo albums, cards and ornaments from the dining room to make the room look less bereft, and on my next visit I brought over some books from Lola Towers that I mean to keep.

On Thursday I planned a day out at the Natural History Museum, mainly because Mr MXF and BL2 suggested meeting there for lunch. I've been going there since I was a child, and while some of the exhibits are carefully curated and looked after (a corridor of minerals, endangered birds, the museum's 'Treasures'), the whole experience gave the impression of being just a little bit tired, with missing light bulbs, thick layers of dust and touch screens not working. 

The dinosaur exhibit might once have been cutting edge, but they have filled a gloriously decorated Victorian room with girders and spotlights and made the actual exhibits quite hard to see and the labelling hard to read - one case had white text on an orange background with no lighting and I have no idea what was there. The café staff were probably doing their best, but apparently when an order for decaf tea is taken at the till it isn't passed on (they had to take my receipt away to fulfil my order).

Mr MXF and BL2 were on good form - Mr MXF has succumbed to his genetic heritage and had a mild heart attack, so now he has a stent and a cupboard full of pills but is in good health otherwise. BL2 is enjoying retirement and has discovered U3A. I hope to see more of them next year.

And the saga of UJ as a lodger is at an end - she has finally moved out, although she missed the first flight she had booked, she was hoovering at 1 a.m. and her belongings took a little longer to leave the house, the last few boxes being picked up the following day. I am looking after a few lamps, vases and plants until she returns to collect them. She has returned to Ukraine for Christmas and New Year and intends to come back to the UK next year and find her own place. 

What I've been reading

Orlando
by Virginia Woolf

narrated by Clare Corbett

"As his tale begins, Orlando is a passionate young nobleman whose days are spent in rowdy revelry, filled with the colourful delights of Queen Elizabeth's court. By the close, he will have transformed into a modern, thirty-six-year-old woman and three centuries will have passed."

I didn't immediately make the connection between this book and the one I read recently about the man who aged fifteen times more slowly than normal (How to Stop Time). The other carries a more human emotional story, and this one has more magical realism (and includes a sex change) but neither makes the most of the opportunity. I enjoyed the comparison between the experience of the male and female Orlando, but Virginia Woolf writes in too literary a style and I didn't get caught up in the story at all.

London Fields
by Martin Amis

"The murderee is Nicola Six, a 'black hole' of sex and self-loathing intent on orchestrating her own extinction. The murderer may be Keith Talent, a violent lowlife whose only passions are pornography and darts. Or is the killer the rich, honorable, and dimly romantic Guy Clinch?"

I didn't like Martin Amis after the last book I read of his, and this has just confirmed that opinion, even though he used quite an interesting concept to frame the story, whereby the author of the book comments on and interacts with his fictional characters. I really don't need to read any more of his writing, though. The characters are uniformly horrible and the plot, such as it was, didn't make up for that deficit. Unpleasant.

Foreign Affairs
by Alison Lurie

narrated by Jennifer Van Dyke

"Virginia Miner, a fifty-something, unmarried tenured professor, is in London to work on her new book about children's folk rhymes. She is drawn into a mortifying and oddly satisfying affair with an Oklahoman tourist."

Considering that this book is a Pulitzer Prize winner it was a huge disappointment - maybe there weren't many contenders that year. It wasn't bad, just nothing special, and it certainly wasn't the author's fault that the narrator doesn't know how to pronounce Glyndebourne and puts the emphasis on the wrong syllable of Camden Town.

Humankind: A Hopeful History
by Rutger Bregman

"Human beings, we're taught, are by nature selfish and governed by self-interest. Humankind makes a new argument: that it is realistic, as well as revolutionary, to assume that people are good."

More than one person has recommended this book, especially when they've found out why I'm avoiding the news. It contains stories we know about - the Milgram shock experiment, the New York murder in full view of the residents of the block, the (fictional) Lord of the Flies - which all tend to suggest that humans are cruel by nature. The author's assertion is that deeper research into these reports, and other contradictory examples, uncover research or reporting flaws great enough to change the conclusion. By coincidence, the assertion that civilian morale is lessened by bombing (which I first discovered on my recent trip to the International Bomber Command Centre) is another example he gives of false reporting. And with other, clear-cut cases of human cruelty (the Holocaust, war in general) the fault lies with society and conditions rather than the nature of humanity. So, if he is to be believed, things are not as bleak as they seem. The trouble is that society and conditions continue to do their work, and ongoing and perhaps increasing bleakness can be expected. so I am not convinced by the book's argument.

The Thirty-Nine Steps
by John Buchan

narrated by B. J. Harrison

"Richard Hannay has just returned to England after years in South Africa and is thoroughly bored with his life in London. But then a murder is committed in his flat, just days after a chance encounter with an American who had told him about an assassination plot that could have dire international consequences."

This was in my free podcast feed, so why not listen again? It's shorter than I remember it, and so evocative of the attitudes and mores of the time. But there's a definite need for suspension of disbelief - a mining engineer happens to be shut in a room with a load of dynamite? A coastguard happens to know all the places along the coast that might have steps down to the water? Never mind, it's worth a read.

21 Lessons for the 21st Century
by Yuval Noah Harari

"As technology advances faster than our understanding of it, hacking becomes a tactic of war, and the world feels more polarized than ever, Harari addresses the challenge of navigating life in the face of constant and disorienting change and raises the important questions we need to ask ourselves in order to survive."

This was an interesting and thought-provoking summary of what is going on in the world, and what it might mean for humanity. It's probably as close to philosophy as I comfortably get. He is most famous for his first book, Sapiens, but, as good as this book was, I'm not sure I need any more.

Success

Bookshop banister, Hay-on-Wye, September 2025

Time has been zipping along faster than something that is quite quick. Here I am already in the middle of next week.

First, a celebration. I started my weight loss plan in earnest at the beginning of July, and this week I achieved my target weight after a loss of 4.7 kg. The full extent of my weight loss is greater than this, because by the beginning of July I'd already lost a bit. However, my celebration is fairly subdued because I've lost weight before, and the part that I've never managed to achieve is maintenance. 

I still have a National Diabetes Prevention Programme coach - what happened on our latest call is she suggests that I do something, then I ask why she thinks I need to do that thing and she tells me all the benefits to my blood sugar or my weight, so I tell her the very good reason why that thing is not appropriate for me, and then tell her again and assert that she is not listening to me when she continues to advocate it. I have formed the strong opinion that her advice will not be useful to me, but her monthly call will at least make me accountable for keeping on track with my weight and eating habits. I have no idea whether it will work.

More success to celebrate - a year with Muscles the Personal Trainer and I am now achieving results that I could never have imagined when I started. For example, I'm pretty sure that we started with me lifting a weight of 2 kg, and this week I lifted 30 kg. Muscles says that with most people he tries to get them to aim for lifting their own weight, so there's still room for progress.

I got out into the garden before winter set in and mowed the grass and hacked down about three quarters of what needed hacking down. Other aspects of GRUHI are going very slowly but there is some small progress, and I met a very lovely decorator who will paint inside and outside but not until the spring. UJ's leaving date is a moveable feast but I think it will happen soon, and almost certainly before the end of November. I was going to write 'definitely' but you never know with UJ. We went out for dinner to celebrate our time together and it was very lovely.

There was quite a hectic visit to mum to celebrate her 93rd birthday during which Lola II cut my hair, Sister D joined us and we all went out for lunch, mum got her COVID vaccination, we visited an Eastern European/Asian supermarket, I got a parking ticket, we agreed the layout for dad's gravestone, I contacted the mason to find out what happens next, we agreed a date for the 'stone setting' (which will be attended by just the four of us), sang Happy Birthday accompanying an apple pastry that Lola II had made with a candle in it, and established that some emails mum had received were not malicious or spam but a new patient record platform that she had to sign up to in order to be notified of two appointments. Lola II took photos of the bubbling paintwork and blown tiles and forwarded pictures of the water meter taken by Sister D so that the plumber can assess whether he wants to visit or not. We got through quite a lot.

To finish - strong film recommendation. I Swear, which had me alternately laughing and sobbing and I forgot to take a hanky and had to go to the toilets afterwards to wash my face. Best film of the year.

Fungus, food, foray, films

Collegiate Church of St Mary, Warwick, October 2025

Merlin Sheldrake is a mycologist who has written a brilliant book on fungus called Entangled Life. I read it when I picked it off the shelves at my last solitary retreat, and enjoyed the book so much that I bought a copy to give to someone. Then I discovered that he is on a speaking tour around the country, and as none of the tour dates and locations were convenient, I bought a ticket instead to an event that would be broadcast online. He wasn't quite as much of a showman as he needed to be to pull off a world-class event, but the time-lapse images of growing fungi were astonishingly beautiful.

My Buddhist group has celebrated the return of one of our members who has been accepted into the Triratna Buddhist Order. This is a big deal for us - this is the first person in this group (which has been running for more than 20 years) to be ordained. For the celebration I baked vegan walnut brownies using gluten free flour, then went and put oat milk in them so they weren't gluten free, and they ended up with no structural integrity which resulted in nothing but (delicious) brownie crumbs. So then I used the rest of the gluten free flour to make sultana cookies, and they were fine coming out of the oven but then set as hard as rock. Everyone brought all sorts of cakes and biscuits that were much better than mine.

I generally look after the tea box between our weekly meetings and I really don't need a whole box of sweet treats plus cookies and chocolate walnut brownie crumbs lying around the house, calling out my name as I walk past them. The cookies went in the bin, I gave the brownie crumbs to Muscles, and I've actually put the rest in the loft - an extreme step, but necessary. I can bring them down for the group next week.

I went for another day trip to Warwick to see the sights I couldn't fit in the last time, starting with St Mary's church. It was a grey rainy day so the tower was closed but there was quite a lot of other stuff to see, including a great deal about various Warwickshire regiments, one of which was commanded by Field Marshall Montgomery. The banner representing the honour of his Order of the Garter is hanging in the church. There's also a crypt that contains the business part of a ducking stool. And all the wooden pews in the choir have carvings of musicians and animals.

I went on to Hill Close Gardens but it was closed for a private event, so that means another trip to Warwick will be needed. Instead, I returned to the Lord Leycester Hospital to look at everything I missed on the last tour, and then back to the museum which was advertising an exhibit about British Blind Sport, which has its headquarters in Leamington and is celebrating its 50th year. It was a very small exhibit, and the most interesting part for me was a couple of short videos about Goalball (a bit like bowling but with goals and goalkeepers) and Showdown (a bit like air hockey and table tennis combined).

Apart from Buddhism and local tourism I've watched the usual collection of films, many of which have been above average. I would recommend Kitchen Brigade (French), Sing Sing (set in the New York prison), Signs of Life (a non-speaking woman goes on holiday), Better Man (avoid if you don't like Robbie Williams, but recommended if you do), and Better Days (another French one). The Royal Spa Centre continues to show films that I want to see.

It's been a good week

August 2025

I've taken over the task of ordering dad's gravestone in exchange for Lola II following up his brain donation pathology report with Parkinson's UK. The style of the stone has to be a particular type because of the rules of the Woodland cemetery, but there are still choices of material and wording and lettering. Lola II started the process and I phoned two companies for further clarification and asked each of them to come up with prices. I never knew how many choices there needed to be, but we're within a hair's breadth of placing the order.

Sister D and I went to an exhibition at the British Museum about Jain, Buddhist and Hindu art in early India. We agreed it was good but not outstanding. In local news, I went to a 'bring-your-own-curry-to-share' event with the local trading group, and as well as having conversations with interesting people I traded a digital radio to a couple, following which we had a discussion about how they might actually want to buy my house. It will be a good story if it comes off.

The U3A walking group is flourishing with 15 walkers of whom 12 stayed for lunch last week - too many, most agreed, because of the time it now takes to get us all over stiles, let alone the implications on food service in the pub at the end. One of the group who is a surgeon is going out to the West Bank to volunteer via a medical charity that supports the cause of the Palestinians. Another chap had routine blood tests and was given very bad dietary advice by a nurse about his borderline high cholesterol. Another person used to be a palliative care nurse who I asked about her views of the Assisted Dying Bill. More interesting conversations ensued. One person asked me what I thought about Prince Andrew and I was very glad to tell him that I had no view whatever due to my news blackout. This is not quite true; I have been listening to The News Quiz and watching Have I Got News For You, but really? Prince Andrew? On a lovely walk in the country?

UJ has been staying with me for three years now, and will be leaving me soon (at my request). As is her habit, everything is very last minute and nothing much seems to have left the building yet. The evening before the day we had agreed she would move out she admitted that she couldn't do it in time, and we have agreed a further extension. 

Because of this last minute approach she has been paying over the odds for train travel when she has to go to the London office. Recently she discovered that there was a coach direct from Leamington to Victoria once a day, costing less than a tenner, so she gave it a try. It leaves Leamington at 2.50 a.m. and arrives in London at 5.20 a.m. and I don't think she found the cost saving outweighed the sleep deprivation. On the other hand, the direct coach in the other direction leaves London at midnight and arrives in Leamington at 2.30 a.m. which is exactly what she needs after she's missed the last train. 

She told me the story of what happened the last time she needed to get to the office early for a meeting. She got to the bus stop in Leamington but the coach had already left, five minutes early. So she phoned the company who apologised and agreed to get her a taxi to catch up at its next stop, asking only for her booking reference, at which point she realised she'd actually booked the ticket for the next day. So then when her workplace opened she phoned the people who'd organised the meeting to apologise for her absence, only to find the meeting wasn't until next month.

What I've been reading

Revolutionary Road
by Richard Yates

"Frank and April Wheeler, a bright young couple, are bored by the banalities of suburban life and long to be extraordinary. Frank and April's decision to change their lives for the better leads to betrayal and tragedy."

An interesting and vivid snapshot of a suburban American couple that reminded me of The Great Gatsby. To start with their relationship sounds mundane, then uncomfortable, and finally immensely sad. It's testament to the quality of the writing that while I warmed to none of the characters I was still invested in their fate.

A Carnival of Snackery
by David Sedaris

"These diaries remind you that you once really hated George W. Bush, and that not too long ago, Donald Trump was just a harm­less laughing stock, at least on French TV. Time marches on, and Sedaris, at his desk or on planes, in hotel dining rooms and odd Japanese inns, records it."

Sister D gave me my first book by David Sedaris long ago, and I didn't like it - I thought he was cruel and made fun of people. I suppose he still is and does, but maybe I'm more in tune with his motivation, which is more to question than to cause harm. I like that he has a house in the UK and that he picks up litter as a hobby and hates Trump and loves his husband and family; I don't like his conspicuous and unnecessary consumption. He's earned the money though - his writing is good and entertaining and sometimes very funny.

A Clockwork Orange
by Anthony Burgess

"In this nightmare vision of the future where ultra-violent criminals take over after dark, the story is told by the central character, Alex, who talks in a brutal invented slang that brilliantly renders his and his friends' social pathology."

Shockingly violent, this really wasn't the right choice for reading during a retreat. I got away with it because of the writer's device of using 'nadsat', a made-up language that serves to distance the reader from the reality of the action being described. I can't say I enjoyed the book, but I did admire the concept, and it was mercifully short.

Chocolat
by Joanne Harris

"In tiny Lansquenet, where nothing much has changed in a hundred years, beautiful newcomer Vianne Rocher and her exquisite chocolate shop arrive and instantly begin to play havoc with Lenten vows."

This is one of those books that evokes the magic of food through all the senses, and in this case the food is chocolate. The story running alongside is also interesting, and slightly magical, and I enjoyed the experience despite having tasted so little chocolate for the last three months.

The Stand
by Stephen King

"First came the plague. Civilisation devastated by the death-dealing pestilence. Cities choked with rotting corpses. Stunned survivors emerged, immune to the plague. Then came the dreams. Dark dreams that warned of the coming of the dark man."

Another book that isn't the right sort of leisure reading for a retreat, but I read it there anyway, and unlike A Clockwork Orange there was quite a bit to ponder in an existential way. But it's a long, long book and it could have told the story in fewer pages - I had higher expectations than I should, and while it was OK it wasn't exceptional.

How to Stop Time
by Matt Haig

"Tom Hazard has a dangerous secret. He may look like an ordinary 41-year-old, but owing to a rare condition, he's been alive for centuries. Tom has seen a lot, and now craves an ordinary life. The only thing Tom must not do is fall in love."

I just didn't get into this book. Of course I finished it; I'll always finish a book unless it's too horrifying or impossibly badly written. But I never looked forward to finding out what happened next, and didn't care about the main character, and it's a shame because the premise had great potential.

Blackbeard: Buccaneer
by Ralph Delahaye Paine

narrated by B. J. Harrison

"The thrilling escapades of young Jack Cockrell, a spirited lad swept away by the allure of piracy during the early 18th century when notorious pirates like Blackbeard roamed the seas."

It was OK. Probably not as good as Treasure Island or Robinson Crusoe, but it passed the time.

Bomber Command

International Bomber Command memorial, Lincoln, October 2025

Since coming back from the retreat, which isn't all that long ago, I have managed to maintain a less busy programme. So far, so good.

So what is significant enough to mention? 

I've been spending quality time watching films and going to a Ukelele concert with Nameless Man. At the moment he is busy setting up a Library of Things, which is where you can borrow items like a hedge trimmer or a long ladder or a set of spanners or a wheelbarrow - things that you don't need very often but are very useful to borrow when you do. He's leased a small shop and together with some local eco-warriors they are fitting it out and acquiring what they need and setting up the necessary socials and webs. I find my chats with him very useful - we share the same fundamental values, I think, so when he's done some research into something I can just follow his lead, and he encourages me to do the right thing. This week I walked to Morrisons to do my shopping rather than driving.

The music group has started up for a new term, and the baritone sax parts for two of the five pieces have not a semiquaver rest all the way through - I have to say I find this kind of arrangement tiresome. Muscles the Personal Trainer and regular badminton continue to help me improve my physical state, and there was great news at the optician where nothing has deteriorated for a year. For mental exercise I've managed to attend the U3A board games group and a day at the Birmingham Buddhist Centre on the subject of ethics.

Inside the spire

The LTRP continues with a bit of remedial plumbing and - at last - a visit from the recommended roofer to look at the stained patch of ceiling in the porch, and some more areas of concern in the hall. He had a good look and his verdict is that most of the problem is condensation, and the bit that isn't condensation is probably due to the construction of the turret over the front door. I tend to agree with him, so I can deal with this in the spring.

In other acronym news, I've been on a coach trip to the IBCC with the U3A. This is the International Bomber Command Centre, which is a memorial site in Lincoln dedicated to all those killed in WW2 who were working for Bomber Command, which I discovered was one part of the RAF (other parts included Transport Command, Fighter Command, Training etc.) I signed up for the trip because I know so little about this recent history of ours; other people I met on the trip were already fairly knowledgeable or were going because of a relative or friend who served. 

The memorial and exhibition was established fairly recently - it opened in 2018, and was well worth the visit. We had a guide who pitched his talk slightly higher than my level, but I still learned a great deal from him and from the exhibition there. Targeting civilian populations with bombs in order to destroy morale is certainly not an ethical issue that is confined to WW2.

View of Lincoln Cathedral behind ceramic poppies laid out in the shape of a Lancaster Bomber

Retreating

Above the clouds in a Welsh valley, September 2025

The retreat went very well, thank you for asking. It was a 'serious' type of retreat and is linked with my path towards future membership of the Triratna Buddhist Order. In the past I have found the pressure cooker atmosphere within this retreat centre, which is a little bit too small for the number of people there, quite hard to deal with, and was not entirely looking forward to the experience.

This time I coped much better despite there being even more retreatants than usual (there were three in my bedroom including one person in an upper bunk bed). I believe it's a combination of factors - I have become a lot more patient and tolerant  of other people in the last few years; the topic is not for beginners, so everyone has some years of practice under their belt; and there was a lot of intellectual effort required and not too much demand for spirituality, which suits me. And the weather was very uncharacteristically dry for Wales, so I could get out and do some long walks, which happened to include some of the best fungus ever. The longest walk is one that I try to include each time I'm there, and last time I did it I remember feeling my strength running out for the last stretch. This time, having been seeing Muscles for a year, I did the walk in less time and extended it even further.

We were studying a very hefty work of theology and philosophy ('A Survey of Buddhism') which is written in a literary style that requires a dictionary. I felt for those whose first language is not English. But alongside the impenetrable text was the additional challenge that a couple of people brought coughs and colds with them and generously spread them around, then there was a minor outbreak of diarrhoea and vomiting followed by confirmation of at least two people with Covid. Somehow I dodged all the bullets and came home well.

While at this retreat centre several years ago, I came upon a 'community library' of second hand books on one of my walks, housed inside a bus stop. I couldn't resist taking a book, but had no book to leave behind on that occasion. It remained on my mind, and on this retreat I returned to the bus stop library and gave it back a book. Unfortunately I stayed to browse, and found another book I wanted to read so I still owed the library a book. This carried on when I took another one but put two back and at the end of the day I think we're square. And I had lots of books to read on the retreat.

Coming home to the hundreds of emails and other messages took a full two days to get through. Life on retreat weighs so little - the only responsibility being to turn up for things and to do the small jobs you sign up for - chopping veg or washing up or cleaning, maybe an hour each day. My responsibilities at home take up so much more time - the boiler needs more work, there were messages from the orthodontist and the optician, I need to contact a roofer, I have to shop, and cook, and do the laundry, and book trains, and attend to things to do with UJ's visa extension, and check my gas and electricity contract and mum's, to see if it needs to change to a cheaper one. Being on retreat is quite attractive, as long as the people are nice, the subject is accessible and I don't get ill.

On the brink?

Beautiful fungus, Worcestershire, March 2025

When I returned home from our Jolly Holiday (back in September) I discovered that since the boiler was serviced the previous Monday there had been no hot water or heating in Lola Towers, and UJ said she only noticed the previous day - she's been going to the gym and showering there. I panicked slightly and left a voicemail message for the boiler servicing company, then found the boiler manual. It was a very challenging document, but eventually I diagnosed that the boiler had simply not been turned on again after its service, so I did that, all seemed well, so I left a second message for the boiler servicing company, apologizing for the first.

With my two-week retreat coming up I had to squeeze a lot of stuff into a few days - contacting optician, roofer and plumber, voting in a local election, giving blood, Muscles the personal trainer followed by a massage, going to see mum. I contacted a book dealer recommended in Hay-on-Wye to see if they would be interested in dad's collection of books. We reckon there are about 400 to 500 of them. I also spoke to my coach for the Diabetes Prevention Programme. We had 20 minutes, which was fine given that I know all about diabetes and what I should or shouldn't eat, but I imagine it's completely inadequate if you don't already know all that stuff.

I also have more praise for my Local Garage. When the car broke down and I took it to the garage in Malvern, as well as fixing the problem they mentioned that the pressure in one of the tyres was low. I didn't do anything about it there and then, but knowing that I would be driving to south Wales and then the car would be immobile for two weeks, I didn't want to risk a slow puncture. Local Garage checked both front wheels (I couldn't remember which one had the problem) and didn't find anything specific, but took off both tyres and re-sealed them again and refused to charge me anything. This was the fourth time they hadn't charged me for work (previously they topped up the oil, changed a headlight bulb and replaced a bent wheel) but this time I managed to persuade them to take some money for their 'tip jar'.

---

I've just returned from the two-week retreat to find a flyer from the local Green Party. Along with short pieces about our new roundabouts, fly-tipping, a demolition project and what the county council is doing about flood protection, there was a small notice letting me know the government's current recommendation is to store food and water and get a phone battery pack for 'short term interruptions to supplies.' I'm still not accessing any news beyond my local town, so this has come as a bit of a shock. Things seem to be getting worse out there.

What I've been reading

The Thorn Birds
by Colleen McCullough

"Paddy Cleary moves his wife, Fiona, and their seven children to Drogheda, the vast Australian sheep station owned by his autocratic and childless older sister. More than half a century later, the only survivor of the third generation sets a course of life and love halfway around the world from her roots."

I found this on one of the charity tables you get at the entrance/exit of a supermarket, and I knew it was in my Classic Books list so I picked it up. For a change (for a book on that list) it was both readable and enjoyable, and a couple of people who saw me reading it commented on how they had also enjoyed both the book and the TV series back in the day. I usually like a good family saga - the only thing that seems worthy of comment in this case is the unusual setup whereby none of the characters ever lacked money, so the author had the leeway to enable them to do pretty much anything she wanted.

Capital
by John Lanchester

"The residents of Pepys Road, London all receive an anonymous postcard one day with a simple message: We Want What You Have. As the mystery of the postcards deepens, the world around Pepys Road is turned upside down by the financial crash."

I read all of this while I was volunteering at the retreat centre, most of it on my last day off. While I was reading it I was puzzled by the number of different characters and stories woven through the chapters, wondering how they could all be relevant. Aren't the best stories those where not a word is wasted, where everything contributes to the thread of the plot? The mystery of the postcards is solved at the end, and incorporates most of the characters (but not all), and it was satisfying enough.

All Creatures Great and Small
by James Herriot

narrated by Christopher Timothy

"The young Herriot takes up his calling, and discovers that the realities of veterinary practice in rural Yorkshire are very different from the sterile setting of veterinary school."

The first two books of the series have been put together in this audio book, narrated by the actor who played the author in the TV series from my youth. Nothing challenging, short chapters, interesting characters, nice easy listening.

The Mark of Zorro
by Johnston McCulley

narrated by B. J. Harrison

"Caballero. Patriot. Vigilante. Follow the swashbuckling adventures of Zorro, as he metes out his own brand of justice against the tyrannical oppressors of young California."

Classic story, no surprises here as the mysterious hero rights wrongs, wins the girl, almost gets caught by the bad guys but is saved at the last minute and his identity is revealed (although we knew all along who he was). Nice.

Gloucester via... Worcester?

Love the bird, Gloucester Cathedral, September 2025

Here's Lola II again, continuing her account of our trip. We've spent two days in Hay-on-Wye, and we're now off to Worcester for the day... or are we?

Day 3

As we headed away from Hay, we looked forward to Jolly Holiday Stage 2 of 3. Lola I won a Buddhist auction of a guided tour of Worcester by a friend of hers who lives there. But an hour into our drive the car started juddering. We couldn’t drive above 2000 rpm which was fine downhill but tougher accelerating up. [There was a welcome distraction when we had to pause whilst a truck brought a full skip from someone’s front garden over a high garden hedge onto his vehicle.]

Fun fact - we were near Malvern four years ago on a similar break, Lola I’s car broke down and she took it to a random garage she found online. They were lovely, fixed it on the spot and saved our holiday. Well, guess what. We encountered our difficulties once again near Malvern! The challenge was remembering which garage it had been, 208-ish weeks ago. As luck would have it, Lola has only ever written two Google reviews so she was able to work out which garage it was, call them, and we limped there. I got to be Hazard Lights’ Monitor a little bit between indicator use.  

They had said on the phone that they were very busy, and yet they worked on it while we waited. What great service. We ate our leftover bread, cheese and tomatoes as a late breakfast and spent the rest of the two hours sitting in reception doing personal admin, so time well spent. And by chance, when we had called our Worcester guide, her son was unexpectedly off school ill so postponing wasn’t quite the inconvenience we anticipated. 

The carillon is still in working order

Next stop, several hours earlier than planned, Gloucester. The Museum of Gloucester had a fair mix of things to see - downstairs were dinosaurs, fossils, the Romans and upstairs were a whole heap of things from grandfather clocks to furniture to clothes. The “world-famous” Birdlip Mirror wasn’t there - on loan or being repaired? The Roman tombstones had a recorded explanation (love a button) but unfortunately I couldn’t hear it over folk music being played. The Gloucester Tables Set was good - the oldest complete backgammon set in the world. Then it was time to drive to our AirBnb.

As luck would have it, Gloucester’s Heritage Open Days are on while we’re here, so lots of free events to choose from. We convened our planning meeting for the next couple of days in the garden until the sun went behind clouds, and then had supper and a quick game of cards. 

Day 4

This morning Lola I had a Zoom meeting and so I headed out in town to a Craft Collective - a shop displaying a variety of art and craft from a number of people. In return they take it in turns to staff it. Once Lola I joined me we visited a church that had a free concert by the Gloucester Dementia Choir which was fun to hear. On our way to the Cathedral we crossed paths with the Gloucester Pride parade. 

We timed our arrival for a Cathedral tour perfectly. In addition to us there were two men who kept talking to each other throughout, and parents with two kids, both dressed as Harry Potter. The guide had a rough start - confusion over numbers, disturbance from someone moving furniture, an enormous clap of thunder and then she had to stop completely whilst someone started saying a prayer from the front who was clearly untrained in the best use of a microphone. Once she got going, she was great. 

Gloucester Cathedral, September 2025

Gloucester Cathedral (GC) has a rich history. In 1216 there was a rush to crown nine year old Henry III before French Louis could take over the crown. As a result the coronation took place in GC, the only coronation outside Westminster Abbey since 1066. Some old headdress of his mother was used to make a makeshift crown. Apparently the new king fell asleep during his own coronation. 

A hundred years later, King Edward II was a rubbish king and was murdered in 1327 to get him out of the way. He was buried under a plain stone in the cathedral, but KE III felt aggrieved that his father didn’t get a proper tomb and so built him one. He also banished his mother because of her involvement in his father’s murder so she lived out her days in relative comfort away from Royal circles. When Henry VIII was ridding the country of monasteries, he turned the original Abbey into GC because KE II was buried in it, rather than destroy the building. And so we have a lot to thank Mr Rubbish King for. 

And it doesn’t end there! In the 2nd World War people were certain that GC would be be bombed so they removed the enormous, mostly medieval, stained glass windows, labelling each section to help with its reconstruction once danger has passed. Unfortunately it was stored in the crypt and the damp meant the labels deteriorated. They ended up having to do their best to reconstruct it, using a picture postcard. How fortunate the Cathedral wasn’t bombed, eh? Unfortunately, because we had the two mini Harry Potters, the rest of the tour was focused on the cloisters and the films. It is an impressive space, and the guide seemed to be as much a fan of the films as the children. 

Next we headed into the docks and the National Waterways Museum. My favourite fact was that, when building the canals, the navvies used heavy puddling boots and sticks to pack down the clay. In rural areas it may have been done by herding cows along the canal. Our AirBnb host, Andy, used to be a vicar and preached in the Mariners Church so we added that to our itinerary, only to find it closed an hour earlier than publicised. 

A short break in a café with board games and then home until we came out again to see The Life of Chuck in The Guildhall cinema. It was alright. I wouldn’t really recommend it but it was interesting, so maybe if it comes on telly... 

Day 5

We had a leisurely start, packing up the car and then walking into town for our 11am city tour. Our guide was very good and very patient when one of the group stole his punchline of a real miserly man in Gloucester being Charles Dickens’ inspiration for Scrooge. Another of the group was VERY vocal in her distress at the thought of a bishop being burnt at the stake, and having to stand there for an hour in January before the fire got going. 

[Editor's note: At this point I whispered to Lola II "I wonder how she'll feel when she finds out how Jesus died?"]

There was also a circular conversation between her, the guide and another woman about a mural in a church. None of them were really putting their finger on what the other was saying. In these situations I sometimes intervene to help clarify, but this roundabout was going faaar too fast. 

Rebuilt in 1455, the most complete surviving example of a medieval courtyard inn with galleries in Britain, Gloucester, September 2025

There are an enormous number of interesting sights when you’re shown them. We really love a tour. The rain mostly held off and we headed to our next appointment with a Sunday roast. By now it was pouring with rain as we drove on to the Nature in Art art gallery and sculpture park. What should have been an 11 minute drive doubled in length until we stopped following the location on Google Maps and input a postcode they say to use on their website.

The Nature in Art place was beautiful - several rooms of paintings, drawings, ceramics, glass, paper cutting - all plants or animals or scenery. I took a few photos before seeing the sign telling us not to. Outside were sculptures of all types in a smallish garden. We headed in when it began to rain again and made the 1.5hr drive back to Leamington. I’m now on the train to Marylebone and looking forward to hearing what Mr M has been up to…

And that was our latest Jolly Holiday. When we put our heads together and looked at diaries, the next time Lola II and I are both free to meet is towards the end of November!

 [Note: all photos in this post were taken by Lola II, except the one with her in it.]

Nature in Art, September 2025

Hay-on-Wye

Hay-on-Wye, September 2025

Lola II and I have been on a 'mini-break' that was planned to include two nights in Hay-on-Wye, a day in Worcester and then another two nights in Gloucester. She has been doing all the blogging for a change, so here is the first part of her [slightly edited] account, rather than mine.

Day 1

"Hay-on-Wye is a historic market town on the Welsh-English border, famous as the 'Town of Books' and home to the annual Hay Festival. The town is set in the beautiful landscape of the Brecon Beacons National Park." 

We arrived at 11am and headed to Tourist Information in the rain, only to find it closed! Signs on the door indicated it should be open and gave no reason for its closure. 

We spent our first day wandering around the small town with its multitude of independent shops, cafés and restaurants. Entering our first bookshop there was no warning that we would be swallowed into another world - floor to ceiling bookshelves on the ground floor, the basement, the first floor and the little side room up a few stairs. While Lola I wandered around, showing enormous strength in browsing and not buying, I was delighted to find a section with paints, yarns, material and more. 

Lunch was in a lovely tiny place that serves a different thing each day. Today was Mexican food with zero alliums. Clearly, although the Tourist Information and the Rain gods were not smiling down in us, the Allium gods were. 

Honesty bookshop: unstaffed, all books £1 (photo credit: Lola II)

Next, a shop called Murder & Mayhem with all books on the theme of... well... murder and mayhem. We had a lovely chat with a nearly-toothless not-that-old woman (earlier in the day there had been a man of similar appearance). Across the road was another bookshop that provided an exquisite setting for books. The many nooks, crannies, stairs and teeny-tiny rooms were jam-packed with books. Just when we thought we’d explored it all, there was another room. And another. And another. 

The cakes offered in Hay's cafés are very poor. We did chance upon one bakery with a good selection, but the key item (chocolate éclair) was sold out when we returned later in the day. Good thing we have another day here tomorrow to remedy that disaster. So a cuppa and an ice cream saw us through the challenge of choosing an evening dining establishment - surprisingly, there weren’t really many places that appealed.

Dinner was in a pub down the road where Lola I whipped out a card game called Odin, which was simple to play and great fun. And lastly, my favourite question of Lola I’s put to ChatGPT (which tells you something about our dinner): “What did people do before tomatoes?”

Photo credit: Lola II

Day 2

Thursday is market day! Love a good market. The view from our bedroom showed five stalls and it was remarkable that we didn’t notice any noise from their construction. I was concerned. Only five stalls? I felt cheated. Luckily when we emerged into the street, following our host-provided breakfast of overnight oats there were many more stalls further up in the town. 

It was lovely with a variety of food and not too much tat. The woman on the soap stall was a little too pushy for my liking, insisting that I smell absolutely everything and, frankly, after three sniffs, everything starts to smell the same. The knife-sharpening stall got our attention because we both have knives we’d like sharpened. He explained how he sharpened serrated knives. 

Of course, one eye has to be assessing every single food item on offer for lunch suitability. Lola I selected cheese, a bagel and an éclair (thank goodness the bakery had re-stocked). I chose smoked mackerel pate and focaccia. We shared heritage tomatoes because we know the importance of a varied diet. And they were pretty. 

On mum’s suggestion we went into a bookshop to ask about the possibility of selling dad’s many books to them. I don’t know if mum is in league with the bookshop but, once in there, Lola I realised she was going to have to explore it fully. I took our food back to our room and returned, only to find that calling out her name to locate her only works on the third or fourth try - that’s how large and twisty-turny these shops are. 

700 year old door, Hay Castle

Back to base and we cracked open our delicious lunch, heading out again to visit Hay Castle and book ourselves onto a tour. Love a tour. Our favourite bit was the door that is still hanging after 700 years. The guide was good but, for some reason, spent 45 minutes outside telling us things without moving, and it was not a warm day. 

With surprisingly few quality dining establishments in town (and believe me, we’ve checked) for supper we had a meal that was both magnificent and excellent value at a restaurant a 30-minute drive away in Builth Wells. We’ve now returned home for our last sleep before heading off to Worcester tomorrow. 

Home again

Adhisthana, August 2025 (photo credit: Lola II)

After the Smaller (but still Big) Event ended on Sunday morning there was a quieter period, but still plenty to do. On Sunday afternoon I cleared out the Restricted Diet kitchen and restored it to its former state ready for the new intake of people who would be using it during a 16-week course. I managed to take the tent down during a warm sunny spell in between rain showers, which made me very happy because I could then just put it away without having to take it out again at home to dry.

I spent quite a bit of time noting down all the things we had learned while running the kitchen, all the equipment we did and didn't use, as well as the food itself. I now know how to cook buckwheat and millet (essentially the same way as quinoa and rice). If I were to do the job again, I wouldn't try so hard to please all the people all the time, because as we know, it can't be done. Next year, however, this event is taking place somewhere else, so I'll have the option to do something different with my August Bank Holiday weekend.

My time at Adhisthana came to an end with a periodontal appointment back home on Tuesday morning. The periodontist was very pleased with the improvement to the sites that he'd treated, and then I remembered to mention the pre-diabetes, and of course that might be another reason why I'm getting such trouble with deep infections of the gums. I was astonished that I'd only gained half a kilo during the three weeks I was away, but naturally delighted at the same time. I've still got some work to do, but don't have to start at the beginning again.

The Smaller (but still Big) Event

Sheet folding lesson in the laundry, Adhisthana, August 2025

So I left you as the Big Event started on Thursday evening, when more than 300 people were to be found within the site. Many were camping, many found themselves squeezed into rooms normally for two people with an extra mattress or bed. My friend T and I were allocated the solitary hut that I stayed in last year on my own, but I put my tent up just in front of it so we had a bedroom each.

Our space for creating the meals for people with restricted diets was an ordinary kitchen without any industrial scale equipment, but we were producing food for between 30 and 45 people per meal. We prepared cold food and warm food - with the facilities we had it was almost impossible to provide hot food. To start with we only had one oven shelf, but two more were bought to make full use of the oven. We didn't have any help with washing up on the first day, but we got a bit more help after pointing out that we were doing 12-hour days on our own. It didn't make the day's work any shorter but at least we could plan for the next day while someone else was dealing with the washing up.

In terms of the food - our customers loved tahini sauce (tahini, lemon juice, add water until pouring consistency) and put away about a litre of it every day. Mashed potato was another big hit despite the hot weather as it's not usually offered by a retreat kitchen. On the whole everyone seemed to find enough choice and there were many compliments and thanks. One particularly difficult customer started bringing us a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice every day towards the end of her stay.

The atmosphere was wonderful, and it helped that the weather was perfect. At meal times clumps of people could be found in every corner - on chairs and benches, sitting on the floor, sitting outside their tents, inside in the dining rooms, all happily chatting and eating. It felt like what I imagine a Buckingham Palace Garden Party might be like (except without the Royals). There was so much to do that I hardly emerged from the kitchen at all, but on a couple of days I managed to walk about for half an hour and met a few of the people I knew. That was very worthwhile.

Then the crazy busy weekend finished, and we were straight into the next event, which had fewer people booked onto it but lasted a week. After the first evening I had a whole day off, which I spent with Sister D and Lola II. It was scorching hot, so after a walk up to the local viewpoint we spent some time indoors looking at the different buildings and exhibits before wandering down to see the fruit trees and the solitary cabin. They asked some really interesting and challenging questions that really made me think about what this all means to me, and why I find it so important.

My cooking friend T had to go home the next day but was replaced by another friend, W, whom I'd also invited. Instead of catering to upwards of 30 people we were now down to 'large dinner party' size of about 10 people, which could have been managed by a single person except that I was due to have another day off and we needed a stand-in who knew the ropes. I had a bit of difficulty with some Spanish speakers who decided they didn't like the food in the main kitchen and started coming to the restricted diet kitchen even though they didn't have any intolerances, which meant that we ran short on a few options. (This forced me to examine my own particular views on fairness, kindness and generosity.) So towards the end of the week we were catering for more like 15 people.

My attempt to manage my own diet completely failed after the week of setup. When I was actually cooking, in the kitchen for 12 hours at a time, surrounded by all sorts of tasty and interesting foods, it was utterly insane to imagine that I could maintain any restraint. But under home conditions I intend to return to abstinence.

Photo credit: Sister D

The Big Event

Adhisthana, August 2025

I was called upon to volunteer at the retreat centre for the best part of a month in order to support their biggest event of the year, when they are due to host around 350 retreatants. Last year there were fewer than 10 volunteers (and about 320 retreatants), but this year there were due to be about 20 volunteers supporting the resident team, and I'd been encouraged to bring my tent to ease pressure on the indoor accommodation. I asked if I could have a 'home room' as well, just so I could plug in my toothbrush and use my laptop and charge my phone.

I arrived on the first hot day of a hot week, put up the tent, and was allocated a hot room sharing with another volunteer who had been here for a while. The window blind had broken and fallen off, but she had rigged up a semi-opaque substitute until it was fixed. Jumping ahead to that first night, there was snoring inside the room and also coming through the wall from next door - I had earplugs so not too much of a problem - but it was still hot, and not very dark. After that I slept in the tent, where it was quiet, dark and cool.

Given my history of regular volunteering and particularly my experience of cooking for people with restricted diets, this year I accepted the sole responsibility for the special diets kitchen during the busiest period of about 10 days. This event is so big that the special diets can't be accommodated alongside the regular cooking, especially with the risk of cross-contamination for the people with proper allergies (the principal one being coeliac disease), so preparing the restricted diet food gets a kitchen all to itself, and I would be in charge of it, with the support of the kitchen manager.

So on my first working day I found that I'd be working with her on the admin for the rest of the week. "Surely we don't need a whole week of admin," I thought. But we did. She'd already come up with the menu for the six meals she was going to cook in the main kitchen, and then identified all the people who wouldn't be able to eat them, and started listing where each of those people should go for each meal. I finished compiling the list and created a matrix so we could see how many non-standard meals were needed each day.

It would be impossible to create one meal that would meet all the different dietary requirements, so the idea was to produce a buffet with each item clearly labelled so people could pick out what would suit them. The whole site would be 100% gluten- and wheat-free, and in my kitchen the main intolerances would be excluded - no beans, alliums or chilli. The main kitchen would be soya-free, so we could offer tofu as well as nuts and seeds for protein. Unfortunately, someone indicated that they couldn't eat salt, and along with intolerances to so many flavourings and spices this food was going to be very bland. I planned to rely on herbs, and also encourage people who could tolerate it to add spice and seasoning.

I spent a long, long time coming up with suggestions, and the kitchen manager very sweetly tempered my ambition with realism until we'd reached something that was going to work. It would be the same menu for every meal except for different choices of roast vegetables and steamed vegetables, different carbohydrates and different tofu flavourings (one being utterly plain). Then I carried out a check on all the food supplies in the various store cupboards and pantries to make sure we hadn't run short of anything without noticing, which also gave me the confidence to locate everything I'd need. I started checking out the kitchen I'd be using, and listing all the equipment I'd need. We talked about practical matters: who would do the washing up, how would we make sure utensils were returned to where they were needed, did we have enough large pots, could we get a second shelf for the oven?

Meanwhile, all the other volunteers were cleaning the place up - weeding, dusting, polishing, cleaning stained mugs, cleaning windows, getting the barn ready for mass catering, deep cleaning the main kitchen, and more. The resident team were collating all the bookings, counting how many extra bedframes, mattresses, pillows, pillow cases, sheets duvets and duvet covers would be needed, working out where people would sleep. The contractors who were going to put up the marquee arrived at the crack of dawn (7.30am) and started driving in the large pegs with some sort of mechanical hammer and had to be asked to stop until the morning meditation had finished at 8.30am.

All the volunteers and the resident Operations team were meeting daily after morning tea break to check that everything was on track. The kitchen manager kindly bought snacks not usually available at the retreat centre - biscuits, nuts, crisps - and I stepped in and chopped up carrots, cucumbers and tomatoes so I wouldn't feel too left out.

It was noted that last year nothing was organised for volunteers in the evenings, so there was a program of events, including a film night, talks, ritual, a tour of the library, attending the local group, and a communal fire. I was either too tired to attend, or had something else to do. One evening I had to go back home to lead my local group because everyone else was even further away than I was; another evening I actually went to play badminton at a local club (which I'm planning to do again).

In the last few days of lead-up to the event there was a massive chopping exercise to get vegetables prepared for six meals for more than 300 people. The carrots alone weighed more than I do. Then I gathered two reliable people and we started setting up the Restricted Diet kitchen in earnest. We calculated portion sizes and with limited storage we worked out some priorities, then they started chopping and I foraged for all the equipment we needed - serving dishes, oven trays, blue plasters, tongs, a colander, plates and cutlery, serving spoons. And then I collected my friend T from the station, because she was coming to work with me for nearly a week, and it was Thursday evening, and time to get started on the first meal!