2nd December 2013 Monday

Well, I didn't manage to keep this going day to day, did I? But I will post something whenever I can. This might become tricky as I'm going to have to go back into hospital soon. Don't know for how long. It could be just for a couple of days, it could be longer. We'll see.

We watched an excellent documentary last night about Morecambe & Wise, one of the greatest double comedy acts this country has ever produced. Some say the best ever. They are both dead now, but they still make me laugh out loud, even though I've seen their shows many times. So funny. The reason I mention them is because Eric Morecambe had heart trouble, 'like what I have got', only worse. The medical services kept him going for many years. Medical techniques for hearts have advanced a huge amount since Eric's day - 'they do all the right things, in the right order', so I live in hope and have every confidence in our local cardiac teams.
Changing the subject, where are all the birds? Our garden is usually beginning to get really bird busy by this time of year, but now the bird food goes mouldy in the feeders and I have to keep changing it. It used to get quickly eaten before that happened before. Berries and apples, normally a scene of great bird feeding activity in December, are undisturbed. Is the countryside still full of food? Is it not cold enough yet? The Arctic northerlies forecast for this weekend might change all this, of course. We wait to see.

Although my recent set-back means I can't do the cardiac exercise sessions I used to do, we were still welcome at the group's Christmas Lunch today. It was good to meet up with everyone as we all enjoyed a lovely meal in a local hotel. After my upcoming hospital visit, I hope to get back to the group exercise again. 

And to round off a good day, I did an hour and a half of hospital radio this evening in Cirencester Hospital. I enjoy doing this each week, and they haven't chucked me out yet :-) Tonight I played a mix of big band swing and Christmas songs. My favourite was "In Dulci Lublio" by Chanticleer, although I like them all. That's why I chose them! The patients haven't stormed the studio with burning torches and pitchforks yet, so I must be doing something right. Either that, or they turn off the radio when I come on. Ho hum :-) 

25th November 2013 - Monday

Took it easy today, after a lovely family weekend with my son's family. My get up and go has got up and gone, so a little R&R for me was in order. Meanwhile D went about her usual energetic lifestyle in the morning and then we met for a lovely lunch in Mosaic Café. If you fancy trying it too, you will find it in the Woolmarket, off Dyer Street in Cirencester.

24th November 2013 - Sunday

Henry loves Lego. What a fantastic invention, Lego. My parents bought it for we children when we were very young, land as we grew, so did the Lego. We bought it for our children and the cycle began again. Now we're buying it for Henry. It was a real joy to see him play with it with his father.

One of the best holidays we had when the children were small as in Denmark, home of Lego. But we decided against going to Legoland because we thought it would be just another tacky tourist trap. And we had lots of other stuff to see, birthplace of Has Christian Andersen, Tivoli Gardens, Little Mermaid, and we only had seven days. However we did spare a couple of hours for it on the way back to catch the North Sea ferry. That's when we realised we had made a mistake. We should have given Legoland a whole day. It was amazing! Children, parents, we all had a great time there. (More in retro part of this blog).

Back the present, we all went for lunch at what is now becoming our traditional family lunch venue, the Organic Farm Shop & Cafe near Cirencester. My son is vegetarian and we all care about the quality of the food we eat, and this is one of those rare places we can all go together and choose widely and freely from the menu. So relaxing. So delicious. 

@FarmShopOrganic is deceptive from the outside. All the goodies are inside, like Aladdin's cave :-)

23rd November 2013 - Saturday

Every other Saturday in Cirencester means Farmers Market in the Marker Square. We always try to go because we firmly support buying local produce wherever possible, and the food we buy comes direct from the producers to us. Fruit, vegetables, meat, cakes, pickles, pies and pasties, the list goes on. Whether it costs more is a very moot point. All averaged out I don't think it does, but I do know that the quality is high because it hasn't been packed in plastic, it hasn't been carried hundreds of miles on trucks over several days. Rather, it has reached us direct from local farms that day and is really fresh. 

My son and his family were staying with us and enjoyed coming to the market. And then later we went to the National Arboretum at Westonbirt. This was wonderful because the sun shone, the autumn colours were still clinging to the trees, and our grandson discovered a mud hole. He immediately stomped into it and there he remained, stomping, until his Dad hauled him out with a broad hint of chocolate cake. Boring adults like us took pictures of trees, but mud was the hit of the day. 

I say the hit, but there was another contender who ran it close. His name is Gromit.

There was, to my chagrin, a first for me today. I was wheeled around Westonbirt in a wheelchair. My health has taken a downturn lately and I just couldn't walk around the beautiful Westonbirt trail of autumn colours with the family. I was prepared to wait while they went around, but they insisted I come too, persuaded me into a wheelchair and off we went. They are lovely, Westonbirt is lovely, and we all had a perfect day.

22nd November 2013 - Friday

I always like to watch BBC's Question Time if I can, because I enjoy some good political argument and to hear not only the inevitable MPs battling it out, but also well informed guests from other walks of life adding their views. Sadly this has been going off track lately, and I hope that it is only a phase. Tonight it reached a pitch and I turned it off in disgust.

The reason was that the non-MP guests had been unable to appear due to a train delay, leaving just three MPs on the panel. One of the first questions involved the inevitable "Should pensioners give up their benefits in this time of austerity? query. 

To my horror, the Liberal-Democrat MP, of all people, kicked off by referring to pensioners as though we were ALL wealthy property-owning baby boomers. Well, for her information, we are NOT. I am not. In my mid fifties I was £3000 in debt and owned no property. I still own no property. I depend on my State pension, plus some very small work pension income earned during the final stages of my working life, 

And I am not alone. There are many pensioners in this area who are in a similar position. In the media we frequently see pensioners having to decide whether or not to keep warm or eat. So why do many MPs appear to be woefully ignorant of the way we have to live? I'm lucky. I am warm and well fed, thanks to a very happy marriage. 

However, my point is that I get very angry when MPs threaten to take away the minor, - yes, minor - benefits we have been granted through bus passes and prescriptions. We still contribute around £30billion per annum to this country and still pay tax in most cases. I've been paying tax for the past 47 years and probably will do until I die. The tax-free threshold hardly even covers the old age pension for most of us, and anything extra, like my tiny work pension income is taxed.

I am proud to pay my fair share of tax, but I do NOT like being referred to as a "wealthy property owning baby boomer". 

I am not.

21st November 2013 - Thursday

Today has been an Alexcar day. Alexcars is our local coach company and we go on several of their trips every year. It's so relaxing to sit there and be wafted along on their magic carpet. No traffic stresses, no parking strains, and it's fascinating what you can see from the bus. You can peer at people and peek into parks and parlours. The big advantage is that you arrive at your destination relaxed and looking forward to the day. 

Today we arrived at Devizes.

Just a short trip across the county boundary into historic Wiltshire.

What do we do first on a day out? Look for lunch!

And Devizes didn't disappoint. We found a lovely pub called the Four Seasons, where I had roast chicken breast wrapped in finest Wiltshire bacon, while D had gorgeous pork belly. Wiltshire is famed for its top quality pig products, and the Four Seasons knows just how to cook them.

And serve up a glass or two of Merlot to go alongside.

We chose this trip to visit the Wiltshire Museum, recently restored and redesigned, making it now one of the leading museums in the country. That's what we'd heard, and we were delighted to find that it's true. Devizes is a lovely Wiltshire town, and if you go there, don't miss the museum, especially the golden 'lozenge', one of their prize exhibits. A fantastic object.

Wiltshire has a rich vein of pre-history running through it, with incredible relics to show. Many can be found in the museum or referred to here in depth, such as Stonehenge, Woodhenge, Avebury, Silbury Hill, the list goes on. 

I just love being immersed in all this and trying to make mental connections to my ancient ancestors in the rolling countryside. We and they are part of the same ancestral line, just numbers of generations apart. We gazed on the same landscape and felt the same wind, rain and sun. The same skies revolved above our heads. We are one and the same, merely separated by time. And my mind reels at my ancestors skills, especially in fine craftsmanship, all achieved without the aid of modern technology. Just head, hand, heart and eye.

The museum takes us back to see beautiful they objects created and left here in Mesolithic times, including by those here before our own Homo sapiens kind, and even before Neanderthal people. Most of the objects they left are flint axes, made for workaday tasks such as jointing game, but nonetheless beautiful works of art. I'm left with the impression that these people were highly practical, they had to be to survive, but they also had a heightened aesthetic sense. They knew a beautiful object when they saw it.

This book will tell you much more if you are interested.

20th November 2013

Today has been quiet. I've been too darned tired to do much, but I did walk into town in the pouring rain and do a little light shopping. Then the nice bit, I met D in the New Brewery Arts cafe for coffee and a fruit scone. Retirement would be just dandy if it didn't come, in my case, with a heart attack price tag. This has taken the edge off it, but there's still much to enjoy, coffee and cake being part of it. By the way, in case you're wondering, all the cakes D and I eat are half calories. That's because we buy just one cake each time, and have half each. Likewise desserts when we eat out, and so on. That way we don't miss such treats but still reduce calories.

I love apps that allow us to create collages like this. I aim to bring you all of the blue plaque properties in Cirencester this way, but don't hold your breath. They'll get done as and when. 

Bedtime.

Goodnight.

19th November 2013

We started today by going on our weekly visit to my 9(5 year old mother, who lives 20 miles away. The drive through the merging area of Cotswolds and upper Thames Valley is beautiful at all times of year, but especially in autumn. A fair covering of late red and gold leaves are still hanging on the trees and the effect when the low winter sun shines on them is stunning. Unfortunately this morning was dull, so here's one I prepared earlier to give you some idea of the scene.

Visiting my mother is more than being social. We are also part of the group of friends, relatives and professionals who look after her daily.  We get her lunch, clean and tidy the house and garden, and make sure she is taking her medical pills and potions. We're still going and so is she. Sometimes I think she'll put-do us all, especially me!

She has been, and still is, a wonderful mother, and we are happy to do what we can for her. I was very lucky to have such wonderful parents. Sadly, we lost my father far too early. I still think of him every day,  over forty years later.

In the evening we went to see the first live broadcast from the stage of the Royal Shakespeare Memorial Theatre, Stratford-Upon-Avon. The play was Shakespeare's Richard II. It went to cinemas around the world, and I hope they found it a success from their point of view, because it was terrific. We went to see it at a cinema in Cheltenham, and fifteen minutes before the play commenced the cameras there went live. It was almost like being at the theatre, although the cinema had slightly more comfortable seats. We were treated to a couple of short interviews, and then down went the auditorium lights and we were off. It was fantastic. Not only did we have the equivalent of the 'best seats in the house', we were often seemingly on stage with the actors thanks to brilliant camera work. I can't wait until the next one :)

18th November 2013

Today I got one of those nice fleeting surprises that put a smile on my face. I met another local tweeter. We Follow each other tweet-wise. I was getting on the bus as she was getting off, so our chat was brief, but it's always good to meet other tweeters. They become real people then, and not just tiddly pictures on your phone.

Then this afternoon I took D and friend to a funeral at Cheltenham Crematorium. I stayed outside and wandered round the beautiful grounds. Even on a dull wet day they were so restful and peaceful. I love the challenge of getting pictures anytime, but a dull wet day is a challenge. Here are two I took today. What do you think?

And here are two I took from the bus this morning in the rain.

This one is the old Toll House in Stratton from my top deck viewpoint. It's particularly interesting because it used to be four hundred yards down the road charging tolls.The times, they are a-changin'. 

Finally, on this scintillating, exciting day (Oh yes? I hear you cry ;) I went to a Hospital Radio Meeting in our local hospital. It was exciting. The lights keep going out in the closed hospital restaurant where we hold our meetings, and each time we jump out of our chairs and run around until we are spotted by the sensors and they come on again. I think it's a cunning NHS plan to prevent us becoming too sedentary. Presenters like me fall into two distinct groups, oldies like me and young technical wizards. Patients come in all shapes and sizes and so, broadly, do we. It's a great creative mix and we all enjoy it. 

"My name's Patrick, and you're listening to Cirencester Hospital Radio ... "

17th November 2013

This morning I went with D to Ashcroft Church. I am a member, but I don't always go because, late in life, I've discovered that I prefer going to the Quakers or, to give them their full title, the Religious Society of Friends. To many, the idea of sitting together in silence for an hour is a strange concept and/or extremely boring. But I don't find it so. 

To me, on one level that hour is therapeutic. No phone rings, no doorbell summons, no one asks me to do anything. It's me time. It's restful, relaxing. It allows my mind to free itself of daily noise. 

On a deeper level it allows me to 'listen' for answers. Quakers religious beliefs vary widely. Basically Christian, their interpretations of and relationship to biblical matters range widely. This freedom is refreshing. I was drawn to the Quakers for years, almost unconsciously. What helped me focus and actually step through the doors of a meeting house was a Quaker publicity poster declaring 'We don't tell you what to think'. I wish I'd crossed that threshold years ago. 

So, I like the Methodists. I like the Quakers. I attend both as time and circumstance allows, and I'm not going to choose one over the other in this blog. 

With most of the morning taken up with church matters, we decided to have lunch at the Brewery Arts Cafe, another favourite of ours. I had one of their 'doorstep' sandwiches for lunch. So tasty, and 'proper-job' doorsteps, huge size with extra salad local granary bread. Gorgeous!

Then W.H.Smiths made me an offer I couldn't refuse, a cunningly displayed mini e-reader for £29.99. Really? Thirty pounds? Yes sir, half-price but not for long. I succumbed, and am now the proud owner of a Kobo Mini E-Reader with five books on it so far. I am told it will hold a thousand. We'll see.

I spotted this intriguing window display on the way home. What a wacky legging for one-legged women, I thought.

16th November 2013

This morning we went to one of our favourite shopping destinations, the Organic Farm Shop. We get as much of our food there as fits our life style and limited budget. The quality of what we fuel our bodies with really matters to us, and this food is high quality. We know what's in it and, just as important, what's not in it. 

The other reason for visiting the farm is their delicious coffee and cake which, in the winter, is consumed by one of their lovely wood-burning stoves. If we want a real treat, we stay for lunch.

This afternoon I had intended to start clearing the heap of clutter on my side of the office. It didn't happen, again. I got distracted into starting to piece together some Christmas music for my weekly slot on Cirencester Hospital Radio. I share the time with my good friend Cliff. We share a love of music and both enjoy our radio stints. Once we start discussing music in the studio, it's so easy to forget that we're broadcasting. There's the ever-present danger of the record on air finishing and us forgetting to segué to the next, risking dead air, a radio sin. Hasn't happened yet, but the risk is there. What has happened is the record finishing and listeners being treated two old blokes rambling on about old record treasures they've found on second-hand stalls.

And so the day went by.

15th November 2013

This living on British Summer Time all the time is proving rather good. It's much more in synchronisation with the daylight. It really makes sense and I just cannot understand why this country keeps messing around with GMT and changing clocks. If we must change clocks, let's at least synchronise with our continental neighbours. Is there some perverse British cussedness that insists on the 'we're right and they're wrong' attitude even when they are obviously right and it's we who are clearly wrong? 

Hang on a moment. Just getting off my soapbox. 

That's better, now where was I? Oh yes, today ...

... Today, or rather this evening, D and I were invited, along with about fifty other people, to go to a lovely place near Gloucester called "Nature in Art". The clue is in the name, it is an art gallery devoted to pictures and sculptures of animals and birds. The occasion was the launch of a beautiful new book depicting and describing all the birds of Gloucestershire. We played a small part in gathering the information and raising the funds to create this beautiful volume and, as a result, not only got invited to the launch, but we're also presented with a free copy of this splendid, rather large, tome. It's called "The Birds of Gloucestershire" by Gordon Kirk and John Phillips. They thanked everyone for their support and signed our copies. About five years ago, when work started on the book, I was able to sponsor my favourite bird, the lapwing, so I'm proud to have my name in it. 

Hawfinches in the Forest of Dean by Terence Lambert

14th November 2014

One week of 'wubbish'! That's what this day's blog marks. Am I going to manage a second week? Only time will tell.

So, what have I got to offer today? Well, I went to the pictures/ took in a movie/ saw a film/ chilled out at a flick (Delete as appropriate:). I went to see 'Gravity'. Although I don't want to see it again, I really enjoyed seeing it once.

There are just two people in the cast, Sandra Bullock and George Clooney. Both play their parts extremely well. The story is simple and a little far fetched. I say a little because I remember the NASA Apollo 13 mission to the Moon. In Gravity two people hit a spot of space bother. The man dies but manages to help save the woman who, however, survives mainly through her own grit. I liked the fact that the woman played main role with the man buzzing round providing support, but did they really have to have her coming out of the water in a wet T shirt at the end? A cliché too far, perhaps. I also enjoyed the nods to the gênres greats, especially the one to 2001, 'I've got a bad feeling about this mission ... '.

Overall, it's great entertainment. The special effects are stunning and it's crying out to be shown in the IMAX format. And I hope I haven't given too much of the meager plot away, but then I don't think this is a film you'll want to see for the plot. The special effects steal the show. If you want plot, try Gorky Park, Nine Queens and hundreds of others.

The bus journey to the cinema in Cheltenham, up the Churn/ Thames valley was beautiful in the autumn sunshine. Rocking along on the bus made landscape photography just about impossible, but these recent photographs I took will give some idea of the views from the bus.

13th November 2013

We're trying to live by British Summer Time (BST) now. It is supposed to save money and be healthier. In other words, the idea is to leave our clocks on BST all year and not change them. I know it makes sense. We did it in this country for about three years back on the sixties, and I hoped we'd keep it. We didn't.

Of course, now we're doing it but the rest of the country isn't, so it really means that we just go to bed and get up an hour earlier. And all day we pretend that the rest of the world is out of step with us by an hour. It works quite well, and is better for our body clocks. What I like about it is that our waking time fits much better with natural daylight hours, a definite plus as far as I am concerned. We'll see how it goes on. 

I love a good crisp frost, and this morning we had the best one around here for a long time. 

This frost was on our car at breakfast time. They're always different, and seem to appear best on cars for some reason that I don't understand. I must look very suspicious as I walk down the road taking pictures of people's cars!

I get very annoyed by people who treat Big Issue sellers as street beggars, because they are certainly nothing of the sort. They are people trying to pick themselves up and build new lives for themselves. They are traders, buying and selling the Big Issue magazines, and as such well worth supporting. Most are very interesting people and rewarding to chat with. This week's 'Issue' has some particularly good articles in it, especially by it's founder John Bird. He's always worth a read.

As you probably know, I have a great urge to photograph everything around me. Usually I am behind the camera a real life is in front of it, but now, with iPhones et al it is so easy to turn the tables and take a picture of yourself taking a picture of yourself, if you follow me. Here's today's effort ...

Goodnight lovely readers. More tomorrow.

12th November 2013

Today the weather has been beautiful, crisp and autumnal. And I've been itching to take pictures all day. Here are two I did manage to grab around breakfast time.

They show the Abbey Grounds, a few steps from the town centre, a lovely area gifted to the town by the Chester-Master family many years ago. I love it and it is on part of our walk to town. There is another beautiful park in Cirencester, called Bathurst Park. More of this in later entries. 

My mother, well into her nineties now, lives around twenty miles away, and we visit her whenever we can. The drive, from the Cotswolds into the upper Thames Valley is beautiful, especially on days like today. And of course I took more pictures, this one near Quenington, Gloucestershire.

For years I've thought it mad that the UK insists on being out of step, time-wise, with neighbouring countries. Why do we do it? It's crazy. And it costs us money, real money. People think I'm daft for raising the subject, but today I found that I'm not alone.

You know it makes sense :-D

Today we heard that Sir John Tavener, composer, has died, aged sixty-nine. At my age, early seventies,  this is starting to get to me. The number of people who are dying younger than me is growing. It makes me realise, more strongly than ever, that I am living on borrowed time since my heart attack. So little time and so much to do. All I can do is take care, keep busy and await the call. It might seem odd, but having been close to death, I know that when it was close a resigned peace settled on me. Events were beyond my control. My life was no longer in my hands and I prepared to hand in my resignation. 

I saw beautiful colours. That much I remember.

11th November 2013

Armistice Day. The 11th day of the 11th month, and at 11a.m., ceasefire, thousands of people stand where they are and remain silent for two minutes in remembrance of those who sacrificed their lives for our freedom. 

That's why I wear poppies and why I respect this deeply solemn moment every year. I really value that freedom. And I very much appreciate the growing numbers of young people who do the same. Sadly, many of them are suffering too, having lost fathers and brothers, not forgetting sisters and mothers, in recent conflicts. War is terrible, and so often counter productive. We gain little but enemies so often these days. 

It's also been one of those days when I've lost far too much to a duff download on my computer. Not being technical by nature, I struggle when the 'wrong' things happen as I press my computer keys. Staring at the screen looking for clues doesn't help much, unfortunately. It's the language that beats me. I've found that everyone under twelve knows it from birth, which is where being born well before the age of computers puts me at a disadvantage. My one redeeming feature in this area is stubbornness. I just don't give up. Like a dog at a well gnawed bone I keep worrying at it. A tentative key press here, a slight file-drag there, and eventually my computer gives in and springs back to familiar life. That's when I turn it off and go to lie down in a darkened room, exhausted. Such was much of my day, and a lot of productive work just didn't get done. Remember, I am a mere man. I can't do multi-tasking.

What I did get done was to prepare my weekly programme for Cirencester Hospital Radio. There are actually two of us sharing the 7 'till 9 slot we've been given. Cliff does the first hour and I do the second, roughly speaking. If he can't make it I do a longer show to cover as much of his slot as possible, and vice versa. It's all voluntary and fun, and we usually share ten minutes or so on air changing seats. We're getting quite good at it now, but whether listeners would agree I really have no idea. In fact, we have no idea whether we actually have any listeners. We act as though we do, in order to improve our skills, but is there anybody out there? Who knows? 

Hospital radio audiences are, by their very nature, variable. Many patients aren't in hospital long enough to hear us; others more long term patients are possibly more ill and don't want to listen. Others might hear us once and then are discharged (and I'm not claiming that the two events are connected ). 

Whatever, however nicely we ask for notes and comments, we never get any. My own approach is the old Terry Wogan technique of imagining that I've got just one 'dear listener' out there, and I talk to them. They're great! I can play them jazz, comic, classic, romantic, blues, rock, they listen to it all, or not. I just don't know, but at least they haven't stormed the studio yet with pitchforks and burning torches. We've got away with it once again and lived to tell the tale. 

Now, next week a little light rock and roll I think ...

10th November 2013

      Today was Remembrance Sunday. D went to the service at Ashcroft and I went to the one at the war memorial by Cirencester Parish Church of St John. It's been a lovely autumn day and the setting by the magnificent church was beautiful and very atmospheric. I felt strongly a sense of the continuance of history. I've seen so many sepia photographs of others at the same ceremony in earlier years. History runs through time like a stream, and we each go with the flow for our allotted time. These days I feel like an old trout wondering if he'll make it again next year.

      Remembrance, or Poppy Day, means a lot to me. Apart from the old sepia photographs, I can remember taking pictures myself of the war memorial service in Burford back in the sixties. My father, all six feet six of him, was always there too. He was easy to spot in the crowd for obvious reasons. A wonderful man, he was loved by all the family and many others far beyond. He was a great role model for us and one we try to emulate, especially my brother and I. Whether we succeed to any degree is for others to judge.

      I try to wear both a red and a white poppy at this time of year, the red one lest I forget, and the white one because I believe that most, but not all, wars are unnecessary and we should strive more for peace.

I don't believe that red poppies are in any way a glorification of war. I knew many men and women who experienced the hell of war, most in WWI or WWII, and almost all thought it was wicked madness. In my experience I believe at least two major wars have been fought, falsely, in my name to my everlasting regret. They should never have happened and have been a terrible waste of lives. 

      Money raised by the British Legion through the sale of red poppies is used to help military families who have suffered as a result of war through death or injury. And I understand that they help them for life, not just while there's a vote in it.

      I feel that wars have made us more enemies than friends. I vote, I tweet, I wear two poppies, I could and must do more.

Enough of war.

Today has been a good day. My old uneasy companion Angina has been largely absent and I have managed to walk both into and back from town. I've taken a picture or two. Here's one ...

Every autumn this tree in the Abbey Grounds in Cirencester is glorious and I take a picture of it. This year is no exception. 

9th November 2013

Another good day. Very little angina, enabling me to walk briskly into town with D, do a little shopping, have coffee and walk home again. All in all about two miles of walking. Two days ago I could hardly walk to the the bus stop, and had to take the bus both ways. Crazy, and I never know, until I get up, whether I'm in for a good day or a bad day.

All this worries me, and I hope that my cardiac consultant can shed some light on this condition when I see him at the end of the month and offer a solution. I've had my three score and ten, but I was still hoping for another decade or so. But then I think of people like John Thaw, one of my favourite actors, gone way before his time at sixty-three, and my brother-in-law who dropped dead at sixty-seven. I'm lucky, and blessed.

This morning was wet and dreary, but I like to get my photographic fix each day. It might be anything that attracts me visually, although often I have to search for it. You often hear people say they have to get into the 'zone' before things happen, and it's like that with photography. Often, at first glance, there seems to be nothing worth photographing but, if you're not distracted, you can sometimes get into the zone. Suddenly you're seeing pictures everywhere. This morning was like that, grey, dripping wet and dreary low light all around, and then I started to see photographically, and here is one of the pictures I then took. Alright, it's not Henri Cartier-Bresson, but it'll do. 

A few drops of rainwater on a kale leaf. Nature is beautiful if we just take the time to look. And that's the secret, isn't it? As W. H. Davies wrote,

"What is life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare?"

Every artist and photographer knows this, but we can all benefit from it. There's just too much hurry out of habit in today's world. Take it easy.

8th November 2013

I decided today to run two themes in this blogspot of mine, one a collection of memories, primarily for my children so that they know where their Dad came from culturally, and the other a record of my day to day thoughts. We'll see where this takes us, or maybe just me ...

Let's get started. Today we've been to Cheltenham on the bus. We love the bus. Our concessions mean we are delivered to the town centre free of charge. At least the general public have been spared we 'oldies' clogging up the road in our car and using a precious parking space. This is a relaxing day, so it's coffee, cake and a mooch around Waterstones, followed by lunch at La Tasca. It's consistently good, and we love choosing a selection of old favourites and  new interesting dishes. 

Another advantage of bus travel is that I'm free to have a glass wine with my tapas. 

I'm feeling good.

Luckily.

Not every day is a good day. Until a few weeks ago I was feeling good most days. By following medical and nutritional advice, I had made encouraging progress since my heart attack three years ago. I was walking up to three miles daily, enjoying two exercise sessions a week, expertly led by Denise and, frankly, feeling a bit smug about my progress.

Then one morning I woke up feeling awful. 

I found my daily walk to town was hard going, and had to get home by bus. I was devastated. Where had all my good progress gone? And I was no better as time went on.

I went back to my doctor for advice.

To avoid being even more boring, I was put on the highest dose of my drugs and await an appointment with a cardiac consultant later this month. To be continued ...

But I do have good days among all the bad ones, and today has been such a one. I've enjoyed it, despite the rain.

It rained in Cheltenham today.

Lunch at La Tasca: Salad, anchovies, pork belly, beans, chicken, patatas bravas ...