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!

What I've been reading

The Wire
by Rafael Alvarez

"Over the five seasons of this critically acclaimed drama series, a rich and layered portrait of Baltimore was created: its hardened police force, its corner boys, its dock workers and its politicians. This book brings the reader inside this world."

I have all five seasons of this show on DVD, and started re-watching them a while ago. I saw this book on a remaindered shelf and thought it would be an interesting accompaniment to the series, but I reached about three episodes into season 2 and discovered that my tolerance for violent drama is way down compared with what it must have been when I first watched this. It's still a very fine piece of screenwriting, but I can't watch it. I did continue to read the book and was reminded of some of the key moments, and I'm thinking of trying to sell the DVDs and the book together.

The Bull from the Sea
by Mary Renault

"Having freed the city of Athens from the onerous tribute demanded by the ruler of Knossos – the sacrifice of noble youths and maidens to the appetite of the Labyrinth’s monster – Theseus has returned home to find his father dead and himself the new king."

I have little knowledge of essential Athenian history, but this story of Theseus's rule of Atticus (Athens?) is very readable indeed. I've read so many books recently that seem to use language to obscure the plot, and it's refreshing just to have the story told, one step after another, no time shifts or long-winded philosophising. He fought a bull! made friends with a pirate! loved an Amazon woman and they had a son! married a Cretan woman and they had another son! other things happened! and then he died.

Demon Copperhead
by Barbara Kingsolver

narrated by Charlie Thurston

"Set in the mountains of southern Appalachia, the story of a boy born to a teenaged single mother in a single-wide trailer, with no assets beyond his dead father's good looks and copper-colored hair, a caustic wit, and a fierce talent for survival."

A long, long book to listen to but really good, based very loosely on David Copperfield but set very much in the present era. Some parts of it were so difficult to listen to (e.g. when all the money he had earned and saved was stolen from him) that I found it almost physically painful, and there were many graphic deaths described, but there was always humanity very close by to reassure me again.

A History of the World in 10½ Chapters
by Julian Barnes

"Noah disembarks from his ark but he and his Voyage are not forgotten: they are revisited in on other centuries and other climes - by a Victorian spinster mourning her father, and by an American astronaut on an obsessive personal mission."

I suppose the Ark was a weak thread holding this book together, but it really wasn't much more than a collection of short stories that ultimately I didn't find very interesting.

Not Appy

Warwickshire, May 2025

Nothing of note to report, which is how it should be. Having said that, of course I haven't been sitting around doing nothing. 

• Exercise: Muscles the Personal Trainer is working me very hard, badminton as always, lovely walk with a friend and his dog, and another lovely walk with the U3A group.
• Nameless Man came to fix my garden gate and recommended a play being performed in a local wood which I attended. It was about codebreaking at Bletchley Park and included musical numbers. The company is based on a narrowboat and they seem to choose unusual venues - there will be another performance in Leamington, this time at the allotments.
• Visit to mum including installing netting below the greengage tree to catch the falling fruit and tweaking her new installation of Windows 11 to make it more like it was before the upgrade.
• Catching up on episodes of Taskmaster together with UJ, films (Love Lies Bleeding, Don't Look Back), and series (finished Years and Years and started Call My Agent).
• Registration for the NHS Diabetes Prevention Programme. The app they really, really want me to use is not compatible with my phone, so despite letting them know that I can't use the app but have been using the website I received several messages to the effect that unless I log in my participation will be discontinued. 
• A phone message then gave me a phone number to call where there are seven options to choose from, of which the first two options that I tried told me to use the website or app and then cut me off. 
• I found a combination of options that put me in a queue to speak to a human, and after a very long wait I finally got through to a woman who sounded like she had been partying all night and then had a raging argument with someone just before answering my call. But anyway, she noted that I couldn't use the app and made an appointment for me to start the programme in September via telephone calls
• I received two emails inviting me to do two separate long questionnaires about my eating and exercise habits then more messages telling me all about the benefits of the app, and finally confirmation of the telephone appointment we'd just made. 
• I have continued to receive daily emails pointing out that I haven't logged into the app, and here are the things that I could be doing with it. Painful.
• I went to supper with local friends who have a 10 year-old son. I was obliged to play games - he has a small air hockey table so that was first, then I'd brought a game that involved goats climbing mountains, and then we played a snap-style game during which everyone became overstimulated and we all had to have a bit of a break. Very different vibe from the elderly U3A board games crowd, and good fun, mostly.
• Now I've started a period of nearly four weeks volunteering at the retreat centre during its busiest time, which is over the Bank Holiday weekend. Updates will undoubtedly be forthcoming.

Partying and Promming

The Royal Albert Hall, August 2025

A while ago I wrote about replacing a bent wheel on my car - fun times. Well, just to complete that particular anecdote and give credit where it's due, I managed to drop the car off for an hour during the Folk Festival so they could change the wheel and swap over the tyre, and when I went to pick it up they wouldn't take any payment. They will have my loyal custom for the rest of my life (at least until I no longer have a car).

I've been having quite a varied time since the festival. I had a birthday party! This hasn't happened for at least 30 years, so quite a significant step in my journey towards self-worth. I found a local vegan café that I hadn't been aware of before (but will definitely re-visit) who prepared some buffet food, and I created a playlist of party music that Muscles my Personal Trainer described as 'hard not to dance to' but in the event it could not be heard over the chat. There were 16 local guests who seemed to be very comfortable with one another, and it was a lovely occasion. I'm not sure I can be bothered to do it again, but then again having done it once it might be easier next time, and maybe I'd hold it at a weekend and invite people from further afield.

Next day I went down to visit mum and took her to an appointment with the nurse at her GP's surgery, where she knows everyone and they all know her. She is doing her own form of GRUHI, and managed to interest one of the GPs in dad's old-fashioned mercury sphygmomanometer and five boxes of his old medical textbooks, some dating back to the 1950s, which we took to the surgery. So that's another shelf of books dealt with.

From there I went on to Lola II and Mr M's house - they are on a mammoth tour of north Japan in a camper van that they have named Alan*. They aren't coming back for another couple of weeks and so my job was to make sure the house is still standing and water the plants while having a weekend in That London. I feel very pleased with myself that although I filled two days of the three I was visiting, I kept one whole day free of commitments, which has allowed me leisure to write this blog post among other things. But I did go into town on the other two days and visited the Bank of England Museum, went to the Proms with a friend from school, and visited the North London Buddhist Centre for meditation and a couple of talks.

The Proms was interesting - my friend is a London resident who has played the clarinet since school (that's how we became friends) and is part of all sorts of musical activities, some of which date back to those schooldays. [I found it amusing that some of our contemporaries are still singing in what was the Youth Choir, now named 'Youth Choir Veterans'.] Anyway, she invited me to the Prom which started with a piece I'd never heard but very much enjoyed ('Chairman's Dance' from the opera 'Nixon in China'), and then a piece that I'd never heard but was OK (Rachmaninov's 4th Piano Concerto). His 2nd was such a banger that it was never going to top that. After the interval was something that I'd describe as frankly awful (Berio's Sinfonia), which included voices (wailing and speaking as well as singing), and not much that was tuneful. A lot of fans made it clear that they were there for the pianist and then left in the interval - they probably got the best deal.

* Alan Touring (geddit?)

Folk Festival volunteering

The Comms Room, Warwick Folk Festival, July 2025

I was at the Warwick Folk Festival for a week, volunteering in the Radio Room again as Joint Deputy Venue Manager of Comms. It was time for the previous Manager to step down, and two of us were asked to take his place. Neither of us wanted the job, but we agreed that if someone else were to take on the Manager role, we would share the Deputy spot. I have to admit that it was a mistake on my part, and I should have stuck to my guns and said no - it took up a lot of time, I didn't get to see much of the actual music, and I didn't find it as much fun as when I was an ordinary worker. 

The other JDVM and I have different outlooks on many things, which in itself is not a bad thing. He agreed to not spray the place with ant killer - there wasn't actually a problem with ants, so this was no hardship for him in the end. He was deeply uncomfortable that we didn't have printed forms to write on, but accepted hand-ruled tables in notebooks for recording outgoing and incoming radio handsets and noting important communications. His attitude to timekeeping was not quite the same as mine - this caused me some annoyance in the first couple of days but really wasn't a problem after that.

As I reported in the last post, there wasn't much to do during the setting-up period. During the festival there were brief hectic periods within shifts that were mostly undisturbed, and we have a good set of volunteers who are cheerful, enthusiastic and mostly more skilled in radio work than I am. 

The only critical issue that Comms is responsible for during the festival is the procedure for dealing with lost and found children (and vulnerable adults). This is to prevent the worst case scenario (deliberate abduction) while trying to reunite the parties without unnecessarily inconveniencing festival goers. My JDVM and I, together with the Health and Safety Manager and the head of the security firm hired for the event, spent an inordinate amount of time over the weekend trying to re-write this procedure to make it workable and effective, to the extent that on Friday I didn't actually attend any of the music sessions at all. The task extended over much of Saturday and Sunday too, and there were also meetings that I felt I had to attend even though I really didn't want to. All this has meant that instead of being an event I looked forward to attending each day, it felt as though I was having to get up early and go to bed late to carry out a job I didn't really want to do. 

One thing improved the experience, though - Sister D, who last year went to a Techno Dance festival in Belgium (yes really) decided to come to Warwick for a day. After all, she'd enjoyed the Belgian festival despite having no expectations that she would, and folk music should be so much more accessible, right? Together we either watched or took part in shanty singing, morris dancing, a ceilidh, children's entertainment, fantastic drumming in Warwick, and we also saw two of the acts on the main stage. Sister D also threw a stuffed rat through a hole at the top of a post, was inspired by a lecture about the Alexander Technique and by Leon Lewis (a vegetarian food vendor), and went to church where one of the folk groups performed. She spent a long time listening to me talk about food and shared some very helpful thoughts as well. 

Despite the mostly unsatisfactory nature of the event, I managed to secure a win for the GRUHI project by gifting my unicycle to the children's circus skills people, who were very appreciative. And I told the various members of the team and the management that I'd be very happy to volunteer in the Comms room again next year, but not as a manager.

What I've been reading

How Does It Feel? A Life of Musical Misadventures
by Mark Kermode

"In 1975, armed with a homemade electric guitar and very little talent, Mark Kermode embarked on an alternative career - a chaotic journey which would take him from the halls and youth clubs of North London to the stages of Glastonbury, the London Palladium and The Royal Albert Hall."

To enjoy this book you really have to like the author, who is one of the film critics I rely on for recommendations. I knew that he was in a skiffle band, but hadn't appreciated that he was one of those people who was always in a band of one sort or another from the time he could sing or hold an instrument. It was an easy book to read and just the right choice from the library.

The Fraud
by Zadie Smith

"Kilburn, 1873. The 'Tichborne Trial' has captivated the widowed Scottish housekeeper Mrs Eliza Touchet and all of England. Readers are at odds over whether the defendant is who he claims to be - or an imposter."

This is billed as a historical novel, and lent to me by a friend who enjoyed it. I didn't find it all that interesting; it's the second of her books that I've read and I didn't think the first one lived up to the hype either, although I think I liked it more than this one. There might well be some deeper message comparing the issues in the Tichborne Trial with those of the other featured characters, but I can't be bothered to spend any more time thinking about it.

The Scar
by China Miéville

narrated by Damian Lynch

"Aboard a vast seafaring vessel, a band of prisoners and slaves, their bodies remade into grotesque biological oddities, is being transported to the fledgling colony of New Crobuzon. But the journey is not theirs alone. They are joined by a handful of travellers, each with a reason for fleeing the city."

This really wasn't my cup of tea despite some interesting ideas. The story wasn't quite good enough, and I didn't care about the characters, not the main protagonist nor even the one who tragically died towards the end. And, unusually, the narration was pretty poor and included words that weren't actually pronounced correctly. Only a few times, but enough.

The Boy Who Wasn't Short
by Edwin Kirk

"Human stories from the revolution in genetic medicine - a geneticist tells the stories of men, women, and children whose genes have shaped their lives in unexpected ways."

I picked this up in the library - they don't stock many science books at all and don't even have a section for science. I think this was hidden in Biology. It's pretty good, worth a read.

On the home front

Harcourt Arboretum, March 2025

I was out in the garden hacking down the jungle as usual when I heard voices from over the wall where the wisteria grows. There were a couple of gardeners, hired by the neighbour, and I asked them if they could possibly deal with the huge amount of wisteria that was coming at me over the wall - I've got enough on my plate dealing with my own wisteria going over the wall in the other direction. So maybe that will be sorted before next year, if I'm lucky.

My car needed an MOT and service recently. I've been going to the same garage in Leamington for more than 20 years, and they've always gone out of their way to be helpful. Simple things like listing what's still OK at the moment but might need dealing with soon (like low tyre tread), along with doing small jobs if I just turn up at any time they're open - checking tyre pressure, topping up oil, replacing a bulb - and they never charge me for these little jobs.

They highlighted that one of my wheels is a bit out of shape. It's not an MOT fail, just something that I might like to deal with. But I'm not going to deal with anything on my own, given that I don't even check my own tyre pressures any more and couldn't tell you where the dipstick is, let alone where to stick it for dipping. Saying this, I can still change a wheel for the spare if I have a flat tyre, and I really ought to get one of those magic jump start devices, size of a video cassette with two leads, chargeable by USB, which is an astonishingly useful invention.

So, the out of shape wheel. One of the garage guys told me about a business that exists just for sourcing spare parts around the country. So I fired up their website, put in the registration number of my car, asked for an offside front wheel, uploaded a picture and sat back to wait. Two quotes came in - one for £300 (of which £50 was delivery) and the other was £180 (delivery just £10). So I followed up the second quote with another picture just to be on the safe side, and they replied with three pictures just to make sure it was the right part, and my garage said I could put them down for the delivery address, and it arrived within two days and it will be fitted this week.

Other stuff - I went to a 60th birthday garden party at the weekend, with somewhat variable weather but lots of very old friends. Well, 60-year-old friends anyway. Some success with GRUHI too - I got rid of a bookcase and even made a small amount of money by selling DVDs. It's going to take a very long time to empty the house if I continue at this rate.

And now I'm at the Warwick Folk Festival during the set-up period, back in the Comms room surrounded by radios ready and waiting to be issued, at the request of Radio Man who said that Tuesday was really busy and he found it difficult to manage tracking the radios as well as all the other things he needed to do. So far I have issued only three radios, and one of them was to him. I have done a bit of setting up and tidying and organising, and hopefully my Joint Deputy Venue Manager (Comms) will turn up soon and we'll talk about shifts and cover and then I will go home.

Self-restraint

What my wisteria doesn't look like, Warwickshire, May 2025

This new way of life, filled with denial masquerading as 'doing the right thing', is difficult. Not that I expected anything else; eating less has always been difficult for me. When I've talked to people who naturally stop eating when they are full at a meal, I find they simply don't comprehend why anyone would overeat. Jokes about having a different stomach for pudding are seen as just that - jokes, rather than representing the actuality of wanting to eat something that tastes good, just because it tastes good, and more always being better than less.

Shops in town are full of delightful treats. My friend had a garden party that included wonderful cakes. The weekly board games group and my regular local Buddhist group both have a tea break that includes biscuits. I ended my Tuesday volunteering at the Birmingham Buddhist Centre by making a lemon tart for the workers there. Visiting Lola II and Mr M, I happened to arrive on the night of Lola II's termly concert, after which there was a party, and then her craft group next day happened to be holding a celebratory lunch. Visiting Adhisthana for my kula meeting - someone brought snacks. When volunteering there, I have little control over meal content or the portion on my plate. A festival day at the Birmingham centre included a bring-and-share lunch. It's everywhere, almost every day.

This is no surprise. As a qualified Dietitian I am well aware of the place of food within every society, and its role as anything but simple nutrition. Food as evidence of love, of celebration, of consolation, of generosity, eaten for comfort, eaten to make someone else feel better, mindlessly eaten with anticipation, then disappointment, then regret. The 12-step program around food addiction runs in exactly the same format as that of alcohol. 

Then there's the negative impact of food choices on family and friends, of refusal to accept well-meant food offerings. Of being thought of as 'difficult', or 'fussy', or being told 'you ARE good', or people apologising for eating something in front of you that you're not having, or trying to accommodate you but getting it wrong. The discipline to do what is best in the moment, but often to reflect on what went wrong this time and resolve to do better when it happens again. As it will.

So everywhere I go I am practising mindfulness. This means remaining aware of habits that have been thoroughly embedded over 60 years, and trying to catch every thought and hold it rather than act it out. I remain determined but I feel weak. It's easiest to operate at home, where I can arrange distractions, and do my best to stay out of the kitchen. I didn't go to the party after Lola II's concert, I kept my back to the food at the craft lunch, and I brought my own lunch to the bring-and-share event and stayed out of the room with all the food laid out. I'm telling everyone about my predicament in the hope that they will remember and support me.

Last time I lost weight was during the pandemic, when we weren't allowed out and I only had at home what I bought during my weekly shop. The time before that was when I was on a dietetic placement, living in a rented room and being kept very busy and fairly miserable. Those were very different circumstances. I have also used a calorie counting app in the past; this time I am focussing on reducing carbs and portion sizes, but the calorie counting may have to come into play if this doesn't work on its own. Two weeks in, so far so good, and I'm trying not to think about whether my life will need to stay this way forever.