“Stay at home” leaves time to clean
Parts of home seen and unseen
The couch was there upon my list
Of jobs that I had long-time missed
Beneath the cushions, what surprise
Awaited there before my eyes
Pens and pencils, lady bird,
Paper, leaves and most absurd
In dust and sand were ten dried peas
Were they all carried in by fleas?
Did Tim and I eat supper there
And kiss, so we both dropped a share?
Or did the cleaners just for fun
Put them in there one by one?
The answer we may never know.
I’ll water them so they can gr
“Stay at home” leaves time to clean
Parts of home seen and unseen
The couch was there upon my list
Of jobs that I had long-time missed
Beneath the cushions, what surprise
Awaited there before my eyes
Pens and pencils, lady bird,
Paper, leaves and most absurd
In dust and sand were ten dried peas
Were they all carried in by fleas?
Did Tim and I eat supper there
And kiss, so we both dropped a share?
Or did the cleaners just for fun
Put them in there one by one?
The answer we may never know.
I’ll water them so they can grow.
Sheila- for a change!
On Friday I went shopping with my wife to buy supplies
Of food and such necessities on which one’s life relies
We used the supermarket nearest to our door
We understand the layout we’ve both been there before.
We parked the car as usual and then saw something new
The store door was not open, outside there was a queue.
The folks used social distancing carefully spread apart
And when the door was opened some movement could start
My wife does not like standing long so I went out to wait
So she could then replace me at my turn at the gate.
She then received instructions as to what she had to do
To follow all the arrows and ensuring bags were new
It was really quite confusing, going place to place
In the right direction, leaving proper space.
She was gone for 30 minutes so I then went in too
To takeover the shopping cart the least that I could do.
I finished up the shopping we’d carefully made a list.
With just some little extras, I could not resist.
The line up for the check out was clearly organised
I got there fairly quickly, pleasantly surprised.
Once the guy had scanned things he left them on the shelf
He told me that the bags I had I had to fill myself
So I just had to do it, it took a little while
To fill the bags with groceries from one unsorted pile.
And then there came the moment at which I had to pay
The bill was such that I hope now we won’t return till May
In the throes of isolation being urged to stay at home,
And limited when going out as to how far you can roam.
Shopping for necessities, you have to have supplies
And if you do it carefully, take some exercise.
So how then do we compensate for what we cannot do?
We try communication by systems, to us, new.
It started when a daughter a real computer whiz
Invited us and siblings to do a family quiz.
The inevitable consequence, a new toy in the room
We had to get instructions to log us in to Zoom.
The happy smiling faces of the young now we would see,
A contrast to my puzzled face just staring back at me
But things worked out better than they had earlier been
When they and not my own face stared back from my screen.
We all logged on, I think that’s right, its what you’re meant to say
And faced up to the challenge and entered in the fray.
She showed a set of pictures and we had to try
To see what people in them we could identify.
The answers were displayed on screen and not by voice
Selected from a set of four so you could make a choice.
The process seemed so simple, an easy way of sharing
But now all the children know the sloppy clothes I’m wearing
If you wonder how I know I am a householder, here’s proof
I suffer from a malady called squirrels in the roof.
My wife has told me clearly that she gets a nasty feeling
If she hears the sounds of scuttering squirrel inside her bedroom ceiling.
For once throughout the winter the little dears were quiet
But now that spring is with us, they have begun to riot.
Upstairs a few days a go I heard a noise quite blinding,
As if someone with a chainsaw through the house was grinding,
And then I recognised the sound as I stood beneath
It was simply a cacophony of chattering rodent teeth.
Our step ladder is always parked behind a bedroom door
Ready for occasions we have to use it for
By emptying the wardrobe where Sheila kept her clothes
I can get roof access organised without too many oaths.
I climb the ladder cautiously and then I use my head
To open up the trap door with just a touch of dread
I hope its just the squirrels and I’ll confirm it soon
I wouldn’t want to frighten a skunk or a raccoon.
When the trap is open. I use a torch to scan
The space above the ceiling as quickly as I can.
No critters are observable but I can see the trap
The cage that has a door that falls with a gentle snap
But nothing is inside , except a little smear
Of peanut butter Is put in sometime in last year.
Something seems to me awry, it seems I cannot tell
The peanut butter is still there it lack its normal smell
I realise the problem, I now know what’s required.
I’ll need more peanut butter the sell by dates expired.
Meanwhile there’s no problem, I know where the focus is
They`re outside in the garden, eating all the crocuses.
In 1925 my mother was a student at the Godolphin and Latimer School in London, she used to “train” at the sports ground of the Battersea Polytechnic annual sports meet. Very tactlessly she won the Victor Ludorum by winning several events including the long jump as shown. This picture was published in The Times the following day, and she never lived it down.
Her victory was protested as she was not a student at the Polytechnic, but was allowed to stand as she had been permitted to enter. The costume she is wearing for the event is a little different from what you would see on a lady long jumper today. As far as I know she never kept up with athletics herself, but her husband was a long distance runner when she met him, so maybe she ran after him, but history does not tell me if that is true.
She would be very proud of the athletic achievements of her grand children.
A story from my relative youth
My employer at the time, Maclaren’s, in cooperation with an American firm, had an Intra American Bank Project to build a water system for Petionville, a part of Port au Prince in Haiti. After the project was over, they needed some spare parts, which would be very complicated, if not impossible, to import legally. I had a trip to the Montego Bay project scheduled, so I was asked to go via Haiti and take the spare parts with me. For some reason I flew business class with Air Canada to Miami, and got talking to a diplomatic courier who was also going to Haiti, We travelled together on the Air France flight to Port au Prince. I had some trepidation about going through customs. When the plane landed in Port au Prince I was summoned to the exit, where a Monsieur Limousin asked for my baggage tags. He then instructed the chief customs official to find my bags and take them to his car. Rather subtle smuggling I thought, but I had not realised before that Limousin was actually the deputy chief of the Tonton Macoutes, the much feared secret police of Papa Doc Duvalier. I had been told that he would take me to my hotel, where I should invite him in for a drink. He would then have one drink and leave, refusing a second drink or dinner. Little did they know, he indeed joined me for a drink, and accepted a second and a third, He said he would not accept dinner but as I had never been to Haiti before he would pick me up after dinner. The consequence was a long night of touring the night spots in his chauffeur driven Mercedes. Anywhere we went they cleared the people from the best table, and gave it to us, with of course attendant dusky beauties. I set a record for the Company’s Haiti expense accounts, but they were delighted as they had tried to take him out before unsuccessfully. The fact I spoke French probably made the difference.
Walking around Port au Prince at night was perfectly safe for a visitor, anyone bothering us would probably be shot. On a subsequent visit I was looking for a well location outside the city on a rough trail. When I returned to the road I was stopped at a road block and taken to police station with a machine gun pointed at me, where I was locked in cell. Once I had persuaded them to make an appropriate phone call, I had Limousin’s number, I was released with many apologies. There were a lot of road blocks around the city, where there were armed guards, I accidentally drove through one one night and my passenger said keep going, they may wake up!
The best spot to me was the monastery above the city, where the monks made about 50 types of flavoured rum. Free samples were available. After all that has happened since I was there, I sometimes wonder if the beer is still made from the water in the well I picked out the site for when I was arrested.
This was my first Tuxedo, inherited from my father who bought it in 1926 for an event at the sexcentenary of his college. He kindly passed in on to me in 1955. And I wore it at the same college in 1959.
In 1961 my wife and I were moved to Australia by the Government who had hired me as a geophysicist. As a professional I was booked to travel first class on the Oriana. A three week voyage with the nobs, and dressing for dinner. By this time my father’s 1926 tux was a bit mildewed. As I was now employed I purchased a new one, paying about $40 for it.
After the voyage it received little use, apart from a few formal balls and things, and some dinners and fundraisers during my years with the MPHEC.
The only other wearing of it took place at the intermittent “Gaudys” at the college that I shared with my father.. These are dinners for graduates of a group of graduates from the same period. The frequency depending on how many years they put together. The first one I went to was for a three year collection. The one that was scheduled for tonight was for a a 6 year collection, 1955 to 1961.
I still have that 1961 purchased tux, but a little maintenance was required. At the last of these events as I rose from the dining table, seams under my arms failed noisily. A little embarrassing, but not as bad as the problem another faced, when his trousers split as he stood up. Realising that my tux is approaching its 60th year I took it to Stitchit to see if they could put my sleeves back on. I was delighted that they could indeed do that, and at a reasonable cost. I also succeeded in finding a pair of black dress shoes that I could walk in. I was prepared to go to the gaudy as a figure of elegance to impress my aging costudents.
Then COVID arrived, so tonight instead of a formal dinner and reception with champagne and fine wines and spirits. I shall have a baked potato and salad.
Some days you just can’t win.
When I published my blog this afternoon, I bewailed the fact that Air Canada’s special deal on cost free flight changes did not apply to me because I had purchased the ticket a while ago, and I had to act two weeks before the flight I wished to change. Since I wrote that I have had no less than three emails from Air Canada. The first offered me the chance to upgrade my existing reservation, an offer I declined. The second told me about a new policy that seemed to mean I could get a refund, but I could not get through to it. The third email was to tell me that the flight I was booked on had now changed its departure time, and offered me options, including cancelling the flight, When I went to that option I was offered a partial refund, or a complete credit against a future flight this year. I took that option.
It is nice to know that Air Canada reacts so positively and fast to my blogs!
Sometimes being organised can be a distinct disadvantage.
It was last November when I received the official invitation to an event for those at my College starting their degree between 1955 and 1960 . A group of men either in their 80s or close to it. Probably the last one that I would be invited to as it would normally be 5 years at least between invitations. It would also be the last opportunity to see many of those of my university contemporaries still surviving that enjoy meeting over dinner and an extended post dinner scotch hour. So I accepted the invitation and paid for a room to stay overnight in the college, and also took advantage of one of Air Canada’s offers to purchase my ticket to London. I also noted that the play, Upstart Crow, would be having a limited run in London at the time I would be there. I therefore purchased two tickets for a matinee so I could take one of my sisters in law to see it in return for the use of her spare bedroom while I recover from my overnight flight. I also planned to go and stay for a couple of days with another of my sisters in law who is now 91 and suffering from Parkinsons Disease, while I was over there.
All carefully organised.
But it is not just me
My middle daughter was scheduled to cover in a conference San Diego this week, but that was cancelled yesterday. Both oldest daughter and youngest daughter have entries for the Boston marathon, and the oldest has also been entered for the world age group Marathon championships at the London marathon, now both at risk. Youngest daughter is also meant to give a course in England in May, also probably at risk .
Now comes Covid 19, and a dilemma. Do I go, and risk being quarantined while over there or on my return, and risk catching the disease myself and giving it to others? I am after all in the most vulnerable age group, even if I try to ignore it. I gather that I could rebook my Air Canada ticket without penalty if I make the decision two weeks before my scheduled departure, which is now 8 days away, and the UK situation is still not clear and the event for over 80s has not been cancelled, yet. Actually the cost of the tickets is trivial compared to the loss of capital in the last couple of weeks. On balance I think I shall wait a while to decide.\
Now comes a new feature, an email from Oxford saying they are not sure about whether the dinner will go ahead, and the final decision will come on Friday. They too must be conscious of the vulnerability of 80 year olds. This sounds like a cancellation to me, and if it is cancelled I shall postpone my trip to the UK. As I was forced to do last year as well.
I have mailed the Upstart Crow tickets to my London sister in law so that with luck she can use them with a friend, but the way things are going they will probably close the theatre.
I am pleased to say however, that both my wife and I are healthy and not self isolating, yet!
We bought this house to live in in 1973
It had sufficient bedrooms for my wife, the kids and me.
The basement partly finished one room behind a door
Had paneling upon the walls and carpet on the floor
The laundry floor was with plywood raised a little bit
The washer and the dryer sat on top of it.
One of the sheets of plywood made a different sight
For some unknown reason, partly painted white.
In the rest of the basement, the concrete was quite bare
And so I poured some paint on it to provide a little cheer.
After 47 years had passed the paint began to peel.
I needed to replace it to improve the floors appeal.
I bought some floor paint for the job, it is a brownish red
I poured it out upon the floor and used a brush to spread.
When the concrete floors were done, some of the paint remained,
So I went into the laundry to where the floor was stained.
By using a paint roller the red was then applied
And covered up the white bits, or at least I tried.
I had now a red roller, to clean it I did think
The best way to do it, was in the laundry sink.
Alas a lack of planning made my cleaning go astray
As the paint was too waterproof and would not go away.
So now the sink itself sadly it is said
Was covered up with patches to match the floor in red.
My wife then suggested that this is not the way to be
And trusted it would be remedied, presumably by me.
I’ve tried out several strippers, of paint that is of course,
And after soaking in the paint you scrape them off by force
I’ve spent a long time scraping stripper I have used up lots
And now we have a laundry sink that’s grey with reddish spots.
muffinandbagels 