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Today I have mainly been v1

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You have my sympathy. Trying to get my 94 yr old father into a care home (for his own well being rather than medical need) and one of the sticking points is 60 years of stuff he is sure is worth money, but isn’t. It’s not about worth, it’s about letting go, and he can’t.

Both my parents died some time ago; neither had accumulated any possessions worth keeping/selling. When my mother died, my sister arranged a house clearance firm to take the contents away. She kept the family photos, and the other three of us siblings had a couple of 'sentimental' items each. (My mother was very non-materialistic, and would have found the idea of attaching sentiments to 'things' laughable.)

If/when the time comes when I have to move into a care home, I'll be happy for my daughters to dispose of my possessions as they see fit. I'm sure the older one will want most of my books, and will be able to value any worth selling.
 
Up at 5, drive 150 miles/2.5 hours, thank God for deserted roads once past Manchester. More chicken processing. If we're lucky we'll get CO2 this week, if not we lose productivity and quality. Still short of labour. Taking back control, they said. No, really, they did.
 
Very moving piece, elegiac reminded me of a Burns elegy.

Beautiful words about troubling times.

Thank you. I don't know why I did it like that, something to do with stepping back from it maybe? I find this time of year very melancholic at the best of times, and this isn't one of those.

I've already lost two very old and close friends to alcohol and excess, with covid the catalyst in one case, in the last awful 18 months. I'm now watching a third happening with a slow motion inevitability. The first two were in their 60s. This one is barely past 50, with the world at his feet. I want to weep, but I can't. Not yet, anyway.

George Burns?

Thanks Bob. Always good to get your input.
 
Up at 5, drive 150 miles/2.5 hours, thank God for deserted roads once past Manchester. More chicken processing. If we're lucky we'll get CO2 this week, if not we lose productivity and quality. Still short of labour. Taking back control, they said. No, really, they did.
Steve, what’s CO2 used for in meat processing? I had no idea it was used.
 
Steve, what’s CO2 used for in meat processing? I had no idea it was used.
To stun the animals before slaughter, so they become unconscious quickly and painlessly. The meat is packed in MAP, modified atmosphere packaging, with a gas mix (CO2 heavy) that slows bacterial growth, preserve s fresh quality and extends life.
 
I drove down to Herongate to match and potentially pick up some floor bricks for the yard - I'm about 100 short. They matched OK, but they didn't carry stock at the showroom, a bit frustrating, but then I should have checked.

I went down through Warley. It has always struck me that it has that feel of something that makes one think of paintings and etchings of London's peripheral villages in the Georgian period, the way the road falls quite steeply from the Essex Weald down into the flat Thames Valley above Tilbury, past Georgian merchant's houses and old coaching inns, and their white weatherboarded outbuildings. You get the same feel in places like Hampstead.

Disillusionment and contemporary reality soon set in when you hit the A127 'Sarfend Arterial', which runs along the foot of the escarpment. I had to drive along it for a couple of miles to East Horndon and exit at the Halfway House. The pub was built by my great grandfather in the 1920s to cater to the 'charabang' crowds coming out from East London for daytrips to Southend, and to his own irrepressible thirst as he was driven from The Elephant in Fenchurch St to The Royal Hotel in Southend (hence the name). I don't think I'd ever been inside before, despite my father having held the licence for some years, so stopped and popped in. Old fashioned, not as shabby as I had expected, with faux half-timbered ceilings, it smelled of old varnish, which took me back to childhood pub visits with dad.

Afterwards I walked up the lane to the church to see my great-grandparents' grave. The lane is filthy, rubbish strewn, with pathways beaten back through the undergrowth. I didn't care to look. There were several cars and vans parked, despite the worn double-yellow lines, each with a single man inside. One of them pulled out behind me, and kept pulling in again, shadowing me till I reached the track up to the church. I was glad I had the dog with me.

All Saints was as lovely as I remembered it, ancient, dark soft red bricks, crooked-roofed, but the graveyard was much more overgrown. I couldn't even reach the grave, so I walked around the church to where a man was clearing the undergrowth. He told me that he was slowly clearing the graveyard, helped by a willing army of volunteers on odd Saturdays. There is a Facebook group. Another man appeared, a press photographer who had covered some news relating to the church, and fallen in love with it, becoming the treasurer. In January the building had been broken into, the electricity supply tapped and a rave had taken place. It was broken up by the police and the organisers had fled, leaving all their equipment. The damage was surprisingly light, but heavy snow machines had been installed up in the galleries, which entailed a survey. An appeal quickly raised £20,000, and the fabric was repaired, with funds to spare.

I asked about the cars and the men. 'Doggers', he laughed. 'Even during daylight?' I asked. He told me that it was one of the prime 'dogging' locations. And there was me, with a dog, no less! The police had driven through twice today already, but they quickly reassemble. They are going to install CCTV with some of the funds.

He told me that he is digitally mapping the graveyard, creating a 3D digital database of the graves. When it's done you will be able to 'virtually' walk around the graves, even clean them to be able to read the inscriptions on the headstones. He showed me an example on his phone. It was indistinguishable from a high-res photograph, but in 3D, remarkable.

I left, promising to join the fb group and help with the clearing. I walked past a lone war grave, immaculate white Portland stone. 9th November 1918, two days before the Armistice.

'Don't flash your lights as you drive up the lane!' he called after me, laughing.

k2nCog.jpg

 
I drove down to Herongate to match and potentially pick up some floor bricks for the yard - I'm about 100 short. They matched OK, but they didn't carry stock at the showroom, a bit frustrating, but then I should have checked.

I went down through Warley. It has always struck me that it has that feel of something that makes one think of paintings and etchings of London's peripheral villages in the Georgian period, the way the road falls quite steeply from the Essex Weald down into the flat Thames Valley above Tilbury, past Georgian merchant's houses and old coaching inns, and their white weatherboarded outbuildings. You get the same feel in places like Hampstead.

Disillusionment and contemporary reality soon set in when you hit the A127 'Sarfend Arterial', which runs along the foot of the escarpment. I had to drive along it for a couple of miles to East Horndon and exit at the Halfway House. The pub was built by my great grandfather in the 1920s to cater to the 'charabang' crowds coming out from East London for daytrips to Southend, and to his own irrepressible thirst as he was driven from The Elephant in Fenchurch St to The Royal Hotel in Southend (hence the name). I don't think I'd ever been inside before, despite my father having held the licence for some years, so stopped and popped in. Old fashioned, not as shabby as I had expected, with faux half-timbered ceilings, it smelled of old varnish, which took me back to childhood pub visits with dad.

Afterwards I walked up the lane to the church to see my great-grandparents' grave. The lane is filthy, rubbish strewn, with pathways beaten back through the undergrowth. I didn't care to look. There were several cars and vans parked, despite the worn double-yellow lines, each with a single man inside. One of them pulled out behind me, and kept pulling in again, shadowing me till I reached the track up to the church. I was glad I had the dog with me.

All Saints was as lovely as I remembered it, ancient, dark soft red bricks, crooked-roofed, but the graveyard was much more overgrown. I couldn't even reach the grave, so I walked around the church to where a man was clearing the undergrowth. He told me that he was slowly clearing the graveyard, helped by a willing army of volunteers on odd Saturdays. There is a Facebook group. Another man appeared, a press photographer who had covered some news relating to the church, and fallen in love with it, becoming the treasurer. In January the building had been broken into, the electricity supply tapped and a rave had taken place. It was broken up by the police and the organisers had fled, leaving all their equipment. The damage was surprisingly light, but heavy snow machines had been installed up in the galleries, which entailed a survey. An appeal quickly raised £20,000, and the fabric was repaired, with funds to spare.

I asked about the cars and the men. 'Doggers', he laughed. 'Even during daylight?' I asked. He told me that it was one of the prime 'dogging' locations. And there was me, with a dog, no less! The police had driven through twice today already, but they quickly reassemble. They are going to install CCTV with some of the funds.

He told me that he is digitally mapping the graveyard, creating a 3D digital database of the graves. When it's done you will be able to 'virtually' walk around the graves, even clean them to be able to read the inscriptions on the headstones. He showed me an example on his phone. It was indistinguishable from a high-res photograph, but in 3D, remarkable.

I left, promising to join the fb group and help with the clearing. I walked past a lone war grave, immaculate white Portland stone. 9th November 1918, two days before the Armistice.

'Don't flash your lights as you drive up the lane!' he called after me, laughing.
oh my gosh ..... what an incredible story . sounds like a great project to restore the place .
 
A-Z CDs

I've been going through all my CDs (Rock/Pop first) in alphabetical order, playing all no omissions. I've been putting the odd update onto the covid lockdown thread but will continue on here.

A-Z CDs: This Is The Kit - Off Off On

This is a really great album.
 
workload - talking to solicitors about a NDA for a data analytics project we are about embark on.
 
been let down by a door stripping company , messed me about so much with collection times !! left a message with another guy .

due to hanging wallpaper in a confined space my mrs has the phone

phone rings , who is it she says ?

stripp it .....

i beg your pardon she says and nearly puts the phone down :p:p

fortunately she didnt and he collected them ... !
 
Went on holiday last week. Came back the next day as the bed was uncomfortable. Pah.
We decided to holiday at home, which was excellent.

The Wife has started her term giving extra reading lessons to kids that need extra input for various reasons. She finds it very rewarding, some of the kids sound like they have difficult home situations. The Wife has been doing this for a few years now, and gets a lot out of it.

My new c.d. player went back to Roksan for a clean/service. Not surprised as it was a demo unit.
Playing it now, delightful. Impressed with the one week turnover, I thought it would be away for a couple of weeks minimum.

Scored another pair of Vans Hi-Tops to go with the many other pairs that I have. These are MTE Vans and are a pleasant bright orange. (the last pair I got are purple with sparkly flowers on them)

Had a telephone consultation with a urologist about my ongoing downstairs pain.
I have been offered surgery. I need to think about this a bit. Tonight a good friend is coming over who is a hospital consultant (wrong speciality for me issue o_O) so I will bounce the options off of him. I also have some new music to feed his ears, I usually judge his taste well.

Warm out today, my artichoke plant is enjoying the sun. It is getting larger each week.
 
“We’re off on holiday, Marchbanks. Can you water our garden? There are lots of runner beans to pick, although some of them are a bit old.”

No problem. Curry yesterday, chutney today.

51499897398_5a3a839c12_z.jpg
 
We fell for the ‘Fit the best, fit Everest’ marketing spiel when we had double glazing fitted and paid over the odds. They’ve been fine, but two of the locking handles just fell off, so the windows were not secure. They wanted £125 call out to send somebody to appraise the job. Non-refundable, and not deducted from the cost of any subsequent work. When pressed to indicate whether it was likely they’d have spares for windows fitted in 2003, they demurred and said that the person who appraised the job could tell us that.

Called a local firm on the recommendation of somebody from my wife’s WI group. Pleasant chap dropped round the next day, said something like ‘no problem, we do these all the time, the fittings are pretty standard’. He came today, fitted them both in about 20 minutes and adjusted one of the windows so it shut more cleanly.

£40.

$>~%#<€%< Everest rip-off merchants.
 
having some bad experiences with my smartcover domestic insurance
https://www.mysmartcover.co.uk/

they charge HUGE cancellation fees and had a converstaion with a very aggressive person on the phone today . would not trust them with a bargepole . unfortunately the person i care for has fallen for many of these policies . they are an absolute pitb
 
Our anniversary today. 36 years!

Started with a breakfast picnic on the beach at West Bay (aka Broadchurch) watching the sun rise and the harvest moon set.

Lazy day doing a few jobs around the house.

Went for an excellent meal at one of our favourite restaurants in town.

Back home so I put 'Our Tune' on the hifi (Blue Monday). We discussed what we danced to at our reception, even mrs seagull couldn't remember!
 
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