Tuesday 31st October 2023

I've just lit my traditional SNADGIE LANTERN as we called it up in the North East during my childhood.

I believe snadgie is a Scottish term, but I don't know for certain. It was only when I moved away from the North East that I discovered snadgie was a regional term for a swede. To add to the confusion a swede is known as a turnip in the North East. And a turnip, that small round white root vegetable, is also called a turnip. 

Long before pumpkins arrived in the Halloween psyche we carved a snadgie lantern from a turnip (swede). It was hard work and many a kitchen spoon became a contorted work of art as a result. Once the bowl was crafted eyes and a nose were needed, sometimes a mouth too. Often these were triangle in shape, today though I went for diamond eyes.

Back in my childhood once the lantern was ready we'd attach a string to it and back in the 1970's light it from a short candle stub. These days a tea-light makes the illumination much more stable. Many a time in those long ago days the candle would fall over and go out, and struggle to be re-lit. But once lit we naughty children would walk around the village scaring people, or trying to. Occasionally we'd go into friends houses for food or drink, or occasionally to dunk apples. Nothing seemed to be organised and the tradition of Trick or Treat as now practiced didn't exist. My overriding memory of these Halloween evenings was the aroma of singed sweed from the heat of the candle. I can smell it now. Memories.

Carving a snadgie lantern is a tradition I've kept all my adult life as I've always had a liking for All Hallows Eve when the energy between this life and the next is stretched so thin we can see the other side. Or we like to believe so. 

This year it is even more poignant as exactly twelve months ago my mother was coming to the end of her time with this life and she died only 30 minutes into November 1st. I wonder then if mum can see us from the other side as I light my lantern today.

Monday 30th October 2023

 

Modern technology is fascinating. This is a heart monitor that Julie has worn for the last 7 days. She's had a non-lethal heart problem for nearly 10 years ventricular tachycardia. It manifests itself as missed or extra heartbeats, sometimes a racing heartbeat. For a couple of years Julie has been symptom free but after having a bad sinus infection in September which led to periorbital cellulitis the infection (and or) the antibiotics kicked her arythmia into action again. To speed things up we've gone private for the monitoring via a Nuffield hospital. It was they who fitted this minute heart monitor, only slightly bigger than a Starburst sweet with two electrodes worn on the top of the chest. Julie said she didn't know it was there most of the time. In the past the monitors she's worn have been quite a size, one was in a shoulder holster with leads taped to her arms and legs, very awkward to live with for a week. But today technology has romped on and produced this, which even comes with its own pre paid envelope back to the lab. You get what you pay for, and health has no cost, just value.

Sunday 29th October 2023

 The clocks went back at 2am. It's my least favourite day as for the next four months until early March it'll be dark at 5pm. Then on the 31st March the clocks go forward and it'll be light, or at least dusk until 8pm. I don't mind the dark, in fact I try and embrace it, bit I do prefer the longer nights.

Autumn though is the start of the gardening year, hope forever rears its head in the garden. It's been a super day,  we've spent a few hours in the garden. Julie has planted some wall flowers, we both cleaned the greenhouse glass, and I planted some paperwhite narcissus for Christmas. I bought these yesterday at Whiting's in Wells but forgot to make a note of the varieties - each bulb was 80p, I bought 5, one each of a different variety and one additional bulb of one of those. But I've forgotten what they are. Not a major issue but I'd like to know when they flower. At the same time yesterday Julie bought some overwintering broad bean seeds for 95p from the same place. Not long now before their shoots poke through the soil and the promise of broad beans to eat is upon us. 

Saturday 28th October 2023

It would have been my mums 90th birthday today, having been born in 1933. Here she is a few years ago with dad in a lovely image of them both taken by Kate mums long term carer.

However this time last year I was at the South Tyneside Hospital where mum had been taken a few days before from her care home. She was dying, her body simply giving up. I recall a year ago sitting in her hospital room, the nurses had placed her birthday cards on the windowsill and we sat with mum for a while. By this point mum couldn't communicate at all, just lay there looking less than comfortable in a strange bed in a strange room. End of life is never dignified.

We of course went through the motions and wished her Happy Birthday, I hope she could hear this at least, but there was no recollection or recognition from her. One of the cards, from a life long friend of mum's, had written inside it "I hope you're having a lovely day". it struck me as so odd reading this while mum's body slowly shut down. Maybe mum was having a lovely day relishing the end to the suffering following her stroke eighteen months earlier. It is always difficult to know what to say in such circumstances.

Just a couple of days later on November 1st at 00:30hrs mum passed away on a very stormy night. I'm thinking about mum today, Olga Pollard Johnson as she was before marriage. For the first time in my fifty nine years as her son, I can't send her a card or wish her Happy Birthday. She was a one off, a force of nature, and of course, my mum.

Friday 27th October 2023

Hopefully interesting wildlife filled days ahead. While on holiday last week I re-joined the RSPB, having not been a member for quite a number of years. Today the welcome and membership pack arrived at home and I spent a few minutes flicking through the literature. At least now when we head down to the Avalon Marshes part of the Somerset Levels we can park for free at Ham Wall. Which is useful given the starling murmuration season is beginning. I do love winter down there, I visit more times in the winter months than the summer, which is a shame really as the Levels are a fabulous place in the summer, though the birdlife is harder to locate. A lot of invertebrates though in the summer to entertain.

Thursday 26th October 2023

 

I've captured almost the same view in previous years on this blog. The difference being today that the building across the car park is now closed permanently. It's a time capsule, ostensibly looking the same outwardly but every utility, even the heating, is disconnected. Since May 2022 this 'phase 2' building as it's called has been empty, following the BBC's Natural History Unit and Features TV departments move down to the centre of Bristol at Bridgewater House. One day, though there are no firm plans, we will move off this site that the BBC has occupied since the 1930's if my memory serves me correctly. The BBC on Whiteladies Road will be no more. With my previous images I was looking out of Room 19, today I've captured the beautiful autumn sun from Room 18, my current office next door. The sun always rises, and that's the future.

Wednesday 25th October 2023

 

Well this is a first. Over the years I've been part of many an interview, mostly from the side of the interviewer to be accurate, I think the last time I was interviewed for anything was November 2015 for a volunteer role at Tyntesfield.  Today however we were interviewing for a production management assistant, which, due to a number of withdrawals from candidates left us with one person to interview at 09:45. Which we did. And that's a first for me interviewing only one candidate for a job.

Tuesday 24th October 2023

 I've always liked the difference in seasons, though if I'm honest the transition periods are not as welcome. Tonight it is dark, it is pouring, this morning after heavy rain overnight everything was sodden. The season of autumnal rains is here. 

I took this image at 8.30pm tonight. The image doesn't show the rain, just a dark night in Somerset outside the house. I recall being on the Quantock Hills only 4 months ago and it still being light at 10 O'clock and thinking then how in a few months if I was up here it would be dark cold and wet. Each season has its merits. 

In high summer those long days are so uplifting, though sleep is often troublesome when it is light at 4am. But here we are towards the end of October, it is dark by 7pm, we are cosily indoors with candlelight adding atmosphere to the evenings. Seasons are so important I feel to provide change, to provide hope in spring as the days lengthen, and to instigate hibernation tendancies as those same length days shorten. I like it, and in less than two months it will be the shortest day and ever so imperceptibly the evenings become lighter. My mood will change. Seasonal change is all part of life's rich tapestry.

Monday 23rd October 2023

All very jolly this morning. I had company on my way into work in the form of Julie, who had a 10am appointment with the heart centre at the Nuffield Hospital in Clifton. Very nice having company on my thirty minute drive up the M5 and, with the schools being on half-term, traffic was light. I dropped Julie off near the hospital and went into work. Around an hour later she contacted me and we had a surreptitious coffee at the Waylands café next to my BBC office, actually we had two hot chocolates - £7.00. It was nice having this impromptu catch up and chat, sitting outside, as it felt more like early spring than late October. Julie's heart monitor is tiny, about the size and shape of a small matchbox. No leads, just a couple of terminals and she wears it for a week then posts it back to a data centre in York in a pre-paid envelope with results back in 72 hours. All very efficient, but as this is private treatment, not cheap.  If we'd gone through the NHS it was a longish wait for the monitor to be fitted and six weeks for the results after that. Hot chocolate over we parted our ways, Julie went for a wander around Clifton (walked 6.1 miles around town) and I popped back to work. Just an everyday story of media folk. 

Sunday 22nd October 2023

 

Quite exceptional. I recently joined the executive council of the Richard Jefferies Society. I'm no Jefferies scholar but do like his nature writing and have a clear aim that any involvement of mine should be aimed at spreading the word of Jefferies to a wider audience.  A separate Trust runs the Richard Jefferies Museum near Swindon and Mike Pringle is their voluntary director. Today he has completed a week long 175mile cycle ride to follow in the footsteps of Jefferies, visiting each house possibly one of our greatest naturalist writers was associated with. That was part of the aim the other was to fundraise for a planning application to extend the museum. 

This has been floating about since I was a trustee of the Museum and long overdue as the Museum, the birthplace of Richard Jefferies, has gone from a threat of closure and possible demolition to being a much visited hub for the arts with Jefferies legacy as the driver. While there is some useful agreement between the Society and the Museum, there is also a separation when discussing how best to advance that legacy. Personally I think there are two directions of travel, the academic and literary aims are core to what the Society does as is getting the name of Jefferies out there to the public. I do believe both are of value and there are interesting times ahead. I'd not made my donation yet, but this morning I did and it's wonderful to read Mike and all his efforts have surpassed the £3,200 aim for the costs of the planning application.  Well done Mike.

Saturday 21st October 2023

 

Before I went on holiday I'd planted some Durham Early cabbages in the raised bed, grown from seed. And in the six days we'd been away they've grown, quite astonishing really given Storm Babet has passed over. That though is the joy of this time of year, the sun is still strong, the soil in the raised beds is warm and there's a lot of rain. Raised beds are a great way to grow vegetables but they do dry out rapidly here in the summer. But I'm giving it a go to grow winter greens through the winter. That is if the neighbours cat Treacle lets them thrive. She is a lovely cat but never leaves our garden and uses the raised beds as, shall we say, a 'rest' area. I now have a cunning plan. Mesh hoop tunnels. That'll keep her off. At least I hope so!

Friday 20th October 2023

 

So that's it. We're back from the holiday and as we left the hotel it was the most perfect of autumnal days, sunshine, not a breath of wind, warm and a heavy dew sparkling on the world. But now we're home. Gingernut wasn't in but emerged about an hour later and sat on the table with his back to us in a huff. Holidays are strange when they come to an end. How soon everyday routine returns. Washing machine on, we had to cook our own tea and now I'm relaxing watching a B/W film from 1946, Pink String And Ceiling Wax on Talking Pictures TV. 

Thursday 19th October 2023

When I awoke this morning little did I know I'd take myself back nearly fifty years to 1976. I was twelve and this was the famous hot summer. We were on holiday for two weeks at the height of the inferno, staying at the Studland Dene Hotel. We'd stayed in 1975 and liked it so much dad booked us in for a fortnight. Due to the beach perfect weather it was a fortnight of waking up, breakfast, head to the beach, stay there until tea time, return to the hotel, interact with the guests, carpet bowls I recall were popular with the adults, pool and messing about for us children, bed around midnight and repeat. 

I've not been back to this beach since then and we were not planning to walk the 3.7miles from Canford Cliffs to Bournemouth pier either, but we did, stopping at the newly opened Rockwater cafe at Branksome Chine. It's different to how I remember it,  more like the cafe in the middle image here, but in 1976 I would walk along the beach to get my bottle (glass bottle then) of Pepsi, probably an ice cream too. Some lovely carefree days on Bournemouth beach. My father often said it was the most relaxing holiday he'd had. 

Memories can be good or bad and this one is a good memory. On that holiday I met a German boy staying in the hotel with his parents, Hans Neigerbal who lived in Lauterecken. He was about my age and after the holiday we wrote pen pal letters for a while before it fizzled out. I often wonder what became of him, his life etcetera. I wonder whether he ever thinks of me. We're both nearly pensioners now. A long time ago.

Wednesday 18th October 2023

Storm Babet has arrived. Sea spray is coating the hotel windows while out in the bay an oil tanker is at anchor. Ferry crossings have been suspended. It is a wild morning so we've decided to ride the storm out by just relaxing in the hotel. I'm in the Wardroom which is a sort of library come relaxation room. I'm listening to a conversation out in the reception between a customer and the receptionist, their topic is repeat visits to the hotel and the previous owner Mike Ferguson who knew how to host a house party it seems. He must have been a good owner as the staff here stay for a long time, the receptionist has been here thirty six years. An interesting digression from watching the trees wildly swaying outside.  I've now switched off.

Tuesday 17th October 2023

 

Holidays are categorised as a time to relax, a time to unwind and maybe a time to catch up with some long overdue reading. Well that may be the case but I'm struggling to find time to finish Northanger Abbey. Julie purchased this for me in April after I'd mentioned it was a Jane Austen novel I'd never read. I began reading it recently and brought it on holiday, regularly finding time to settle down in one of the public areas of the hotel and set too to immerse myself in Regency Bath. Yet each time I unleash my reading I find I only get a few pages in before something happens to curtail my enjoyment. This morning we wandered to the beach hut and while Julie sat watching the waves I began turning the pages only to be stopped in my tracks by my also bring distracted by watching the waves and then we went to the RSPB reserve at Arne for the afternoon. Which therefore brings me to 7.30pm tonight. Outside storm Babet is girding her loins, the wind is strong, the real fires are lit in the hotel, I have a cooling cider, I have my book to entertain, the night is before me. I wonder how many, or few, pages I shall turn before a momentary distraction occurs?

Monday 16th October 2023

This is a first for me, I'm writing my entry inside a beach hut at Studland. Beach hut 128 to be precise owned by Julie's friend's Pauline and Adrian. To be more accurate the land the hut is on belongs to the National Trust and if Pauline ever wanted to let it go, it would return to the National Trust. I've included two images as I'm sitting at the table listening to the sea roaring in, it's literally fifty meters away. There's a stiff breeze, it's not that warm but it's glorious and plenty of walkers passing by on the South West Coast Path. I wanted to record the scene but to do so means that the well known landmark Old Harrys Rock's is not visible. A second image is then needed looking out of the door at these chalk stacks which continue under the sea to the Isle of Wight in the distance.

Coming to someone's beach hut is fascinating, as we opened the doors a whole human existence opened up. None of that activity had anything to do with us yet within minutes it became familiar. A collection of stones, various beach activity equipment, a teapot, gas stove, sunscreen all slightly faded and battered with cobwebs in a few places and sand on the floor. Very inspiring to a creative mind. I've taken some black and white images, maybe I should include a couple on this post. I will. It is a moment in time record. The coastline here is rapidly eroding. We've learnt that there used to be a row of huts in front of these but they've succumbed to the sea. One day hut 128 will succumb too. Before then I'll just enjoy the sea crashing on my adoptive doorstep.

Sunday 15th October 2023

 

One can't beat a little bit of room service. We'd just driven down to the Knoll House Hotel at Studland in Dorset. Quite an eccentric set up and once a favoured hotel for Enid Blyton, when the hotel was owned by the Ferguson family from Newcastle.  Deciding what to do for supper I just couldn't be bothered with the faff of going into the restaurant so we had room service. I had pan roast chicken with tiny tots parmesan coquettes and Julie the hake with samphire and potato mash. Both were excellent and eaten sitting on the bed watching the World Cup rugby. I like it here, shabby without being chic, a perfect place to unwind for five days.

Saturday 14th October 2023

 

Sometimes it's just simple observation that intrigues me. This morning I was lying in bed. The sun was rising and all of a sudden there was a line of sunlight showing through the curtains. As I lay there I watched this sunlight slowly, but continuously, descend the curtain and gain in intensity. I watched each flower on the pattern become illuminated, one by one, changing colour as the sunlight hit it. An unstoppable solar movement. It struck me, how often do we just stop and observe something just because it intrigues? Within ten minutes most of the curtain was in full sunlight and the day moves on. I enjoyed that quiet moment just watching the everyday unfold.

Friday 13th October 2023

 

He hasn't featured so far on this new run of daily doings, but this was my view when I woke up. He is very photogenic. Gingernut literally wandered into our lives in March 2020. It was the beginning of the first Covid lockdown and we found him asleep under a garden shrub one day. Nothing unusual in that as we get many cats in our garden. But he was there the next day, and the day after, and the following days too. He was in good condition but he never left the garden for long.

Eventually as we were home all the time he began to come and walk about when we were in the garden, but he was very wary and it took him a few more visits before he'd come close. Once he did, and we succumbed to feeding him that was it. He stayed close though to begin with he'd mostly remain outdoors, only coming indoors after a few weeks. From then on we had the doors open all the time to let him in, it was freezing in winter. 

Wind the clock forward to December 2021 and he had a poorly eye so we took him to the vets. That revealed he had a chip but when the vet rang his owner they said he'd been missing for 5 years. His previous owners named him Lester and they roared with laughter on hearing his new name of Gingernut. He actually belonged to the mother of the lady I then got in touch with. 

He'd been a rescue kitten, they'd had him about 5 years before he disappeared and they assumed he'd been run over or something. By 2021 they'd moved away from this area and they now had dogs too. After a chat although they'd have loved to have him back they felt he'd bonded to us in his home territory plus they were not sure he'd cope with their dogs at home. This all concluded with a plan that it would be in his best interests to stay with us permanently which we'd love to happen. His chip details were quickly changed (he was registered in October 2010 so was aged about 11) and therefore since December 28th 2021 he's legally ours. And we love him, not least because he's more like a dog. There'll be more on that in the coming year no doubt.

Thursday 12th October 2023

Five years ago, on October 1st 2018 I rekindled this blog as 365-2-50, then 55. My first entry on that year documenting my 55th season on this planet was to mention I'd returned from leave and the image was of the door of my office I then inhabited. Scroll on five years to 2023 and as I stood making myself a coffee, I thought, is this it? 

Five years ago room 0.19 3TPR in Broadcasting House Bristol was a hive of natural history activity. We were making episodes of Living World, Tweet of the Day and Natural Histories, it was busy, it was creative, the room was often chaotic. Then money became tight, those programmes were no longer being made a-new, with only the ghost of their past alive in repeats on Radio 4. Then I was informed my office was scheduled to become a disabled toilet. My career was going down the pan. 

March 2020 covid hit the world. For a year as a 'key worker' I was given permission to 'volunteer' to come into the office on a regular basis. I languished in a near empty building providing dedicated support to the teams working at home in the form of supply of kit and logistics. In many ways this was a fascinating time as I rattled about a site with a handful of other key workers, where only months earlier 1000+ people worked.  Eventually by the end of 2021 some of the team began to drift back and by spring 2022 we were nearly back to normal - but by then working from home became a confirmed process within the BBC under a hybrid system - 2 days in the office, 3 at home. Which in reality means just stay home. Plans for that disabled toilet were shelved but I moved next door into 0.18 3TPR, the Management Office to work alongside my boss Kate the Unit Manager. 

A few months later my old office was earmarked to be a kitchen. I guess that is one step up from a disabled toilet. The reasoning behind that was that television (Natural History Unit and Features TV) moved off the Whiteladies Road site in May 2022 to a new facility in the city, Bridgewater House. This left only about 80 people at the old site. Consequently the BBC Restaurant here and the BBC Club all closed due to lack of footfall. What few local television and Network radio people who remained working in the building had nowhere to go to have a meal, buy a sandwich or make a tea or coffee. 0.19 3TPR therefore became a 'kitchen hub'. 

In a way this is a metaphor for all life, things change and while we think what is normal is today in a certain place and it will never change, in reality there is no certainty in anything we do and absolutely nothing remains the same for long. But at least I have somewhere to make myself a coffee, progress indeed.

Wednesday 11th October 2023

This is Bridge Road, the B3129, a road I've known since November 1993, unbelievably nearly 30 years ago. It is the road leading from Ashton Court to the Clifton Suspension Bridge. As I sat in roadworks traffic tonight I wondered how many times I'd driven or walked up and down in those years. I remember my very first crossing on November 1st as I headed into Clifton for my first day working at the Natural History Unit. It was a magical experience and I can still recall the thrill of seeing it as if it was yesterday. Back then staff from the Bridge stood by the barrier and issued a paper ticket off a roll for the 20p to cross. Today it is £1 to cross and a contactless process. I used to enjoy the brief chat with the guys, there were three regular ones I recall and we'd always have a joke. Now I cross and don't see any staff, but I do see a lot of tourists.  For many years I'd park in Leigh Woods and walk over the Bridge to work. I loved doing that especially in winter when on stormy evenings I could see and feel the bridge moving quite dramatically with the wind. As it should, a suspension bridge is designed to flex and move to maintain its strength. I particularly liked walking across on a winter's night. Often the whole Bridge was deserted just the lights attached to the superstructure providing my only company. There was something about being mid way on a swaying bridge I liked, it felt very isolated. I was less keen in summer when the narrow paths were often full of obstructive tourists. 

I haven't walked over since the beginning of the covid pandemic. A few years ago resident permit parking was installed across Leigh Woods, with paid parking available though only for a few hours. Instantly not only did I stop parking there, but so did everyone else. Very few park there now which must be a blessing for the local residents and the parking scheme is now a bit of a white elephant. There's always a frisson crossing the Bridge, even in, as happened tonight, I'm crossing by car. At the moment the roadworks on the Somerset side are delaying me by a good 10 minutes but it's not a bad place to be stuck. Not everyone is fortunate enough to travel over the Clifton Suspension Bridge to and from work. I'm very lucky.

Tuesday 10th October 2023

I popped to Congresbury at lunchtime, partly to post a sympathy card, and partly just to get out of the house for an hour. While walking past the village noticeboard this flyer for a concert on Saturday took my eye. I like the works of Byrd and Purcell particularly. But what struck me was why did this particular flyer grab my attention. Whole careers have been forged in advertising trying to grab a person's notice. In centuries gone complete fibs were broadcast to persuade the public to part with their money. Adverts like Dr Simm's Arsenic Complexion Wafers, GUARANTEED to remove moles, freckles and all skin complaints within days. Possibly as you'd be dead. 

Today of course subtle profiling targets the unwary on social media through algorithms and increasingly artificial intelligence. I very much doubt this flyer used any sophisticated process, just a pleasing image, a calming natural world image. I've known for years nature is a valued client to society, advertising has immersed it's craft in the natural world too to great effect. Only one question remains however, shall we go? Has this pleasing image grabbed enough of my full interest? All to be decided on the night I expect, possibly by our willingness to venture outdoors now that the nights are properly dark around 7pm.  Mind you there's nothing on television to keep us in.

 

Monday 9th October 2023

What a beautiful day. It's 22 degrees, warmer in this still strong October sunshine and I am having lunch outside, writing this entry. Aside from my daily entry on the blog I write most days in my journal. I've a bit of catching up to do with that so best crack on. Afore that I thought I'd record my view from the terrace outside what was once the BBC Club. Now closed as is most of the site other than two buildings. It's a strange place to work now, and so quiet compared to years ago. But we do have a new member of the team today, Nina Pullman. She'll be thrown headlong into the Food Programme area very soon. Best of luck to her.

 

Sunday 8th October 2023

This is not an entry I had planned today. It was while thinking about what to write about this evening that a post appeared on my Facebook feed. Robert Wilton was writing on Paula Wolton's account to inform that Paula had passed away on September 21st. I can't say why but it really shocked me reading this. I know Robert and Paula through work. Robert is a hedge-wildlife specialist and I recorded a couple of Living World's and other natural history pieces with him. Both he and Paula were very friendly and accommodating at their idyllic Locks Park farm near Oakhampton in Devon. Paula was the farmer, first running some beautiful Devon red cows, then moving to Dartmoor whiteface sheep which coincided with her project One Hut Full to re-establish this breed for its wool, and promote sustainable traditional Dartmoor farming. I recorded an interview with her about this when working on the Farming Today programme. But they were more than plain interviewees. They loved wildlife, I have fond memories of sitting drinking coffee, or lunch provided by Paula in their lovely kitchen watching all manner of birdlife coming to the feeders just inches from the window. Aside from hedges, Robert championed dormice on the farm, creating wide base hedges perfect for their habitat needs. Paula told a lovely story of how when they first moved to the farm swallows would enter the bedroom and fly above their heads as they lay in bed with the swallows prospecting for nest sites, all told with a joy in Paula celebrating what nature does best, bring joy to a life. Which is what Paula did and that makes me so sorry to hear she's no longer with us. A truly lovely lady, a truly lovely couple. 

 

Saturday 7th October 2023

By rights as I am writing this I should be somewhere around Evesham on the way home to Somerset, but I'm not feeling very well and have decided to delay my return and have a day in bed.

This therefore has been my view from my bed, and for me this is interesting. The bed is about 40 years old. I can remember it being delivered by the And So To Bed company at my parents previous house in South Shields. It has a horsehair mattress and still very comfortable. This room used to be my office for the couple of years I moved back home in the 1980's to live with my parents while at University as a mature student of 26. The Action Man horse is one of the few relics of my childhood. The photograph of the younger me was taken by my Uncle Ken thirty odd years ago. In the fireplace obscured slightly is a Charles and Diana wedding fire screen tapestry which Aunty Lilla completed in 1981 after mum found the pattern impossible to follow. 

The bookcases dad built when they moved in here and hold all manner of interesting stuff aside from books, local history pamphlets, dad's models, photograph albums and back copies of the Northumbrian magazine to mention a few. The stamp albums on the chair are dad's, he's been a stamp collector all his adult life. No longer my office it is the guest bedroom and where I stay when visiting dad. Today however it is my sick room, and lying here it has given me time to look around it in detail and reflect that in the wardrobe remain some of mums clothes which she'll never wear now but still hold her perfume scent. This year dad has found he can no longer get upstairs, we've converted the dining room as a bedroom, so in many ways this room has become a time capsule of life that is still having bits added to it.

A room with history very much part of the present.

Friday 6th October 2023

I found myself sitting in my father's garden this afternoon looking at this view. Their garden has always been a wildlife Mecca as neither mum nor dad liked borders and straight lines. But in recent years as they aged the garden is becoming more overgrown by the month, and the birds especially love it, always loads of activity. But today it was the berry laden Holly tree that caught my eye, it looked almost 'autumnal' with more berries than I've seen for many a year. It was while talking to Julie on the phone I noticed how beautiful it looked. The birds will strip this tree of berries soon, and that's exactly how it should be.

Thursday 5th October 2023

 

The blue shed in this image is the Coffee Hub at the Cat and Dogs steps, Roker in Sunderland.  My parents used to love coming here, good conversation, good light snacks and drinks, and on a sunny day the heat off the cliff was something else. It's been a few years now since mum and dad visited here, so today I had a walk along after completing a few tasks. Sadly I believe the cafe is only open at weekends in the winter months but having bought a Bovril at a nearby alternative cafe I sat just reminiscing about the good days when they were both game for any trip out. I miss my mum, not in a melancholy way, but simply when I go somewhere she loved I wish she could still visit herself. But time passes. I sat for a good half hour watching the seabirds and swallows zig zagging over the sea. There's nothing like being beside the seaside. Nice Bovril too.

Wednesday 4th October 2023

I think table 21 at Woodborough Garden Centre near Southwell in Nottinghamshire needs its image preserving. It was just after twelve noon that I arrived here. And I liked the artistically arranged luncheon detritus on the table. Of course these items had not been artistically arranged at all, but that is their beauty, unconsciously there. I've been using this garden centre as a stopover on my way up and down to Tyneside for a few years. Until a year or so it was known as Timmermans, but having been taken over by British Garden Centres it took on the name of the nearby village. I stop here as my route north now avoids motorways as much as possible, it takes an hour longer but it is infinitely more enjoyable, and as Woodborough is 167 miles from Somerset and 174 miles to East Boldon it is perfectly balanced half way. They do a lovely cheese burger too for £10.45.

 

Tuesday 3rd October 2023

What an odd image for a year long planned documentation of my life, because this image wasn't planned. In fact I never took it. I was completely unaware of this image, a set of four identical ones, until I thought about what to write about today, picked my phone up and saw the quartet now stored in my phone's images. It took me a moment to work it out before realising it must have been taken unbeknownst to me by my mobile phone while Julie and I were faffing about with a new SIM card from Smarty. I can't even recall exactly what was happening at this captured moment in time but I like the composition, a snapshot of a Tuesday evening. It's all there, the detritus of life on the coffee table, my lower self in shorts as we are having warm weather at the moment, all beautifully captured by an artificial intelligence operating beyond my consciousness. I'm beginning to think George Orwell was right.

 

Monday 2nd October 2023

 

What a lovely day. I keep forgetting  that in my job I meet celebrities alongside interesting members of the public. I was observing an edition of Radio 4's Ramblings being recorded. It's a long time since I'd been on location and today it was a treat to not be producing. I could just relax as we walked around Oldbury On Severn with Mike Gunton talking to Clare Balding. I've known Mike for years during my NHU days, but until today I'd not met Clare, which is odd as for the last five years or more we've chatted regularly on email. It was a lovely morning which ended at the Anchor pub in the village. It is an interesting life. I'll enjoy the fizz Clare bought for me as a thank you for all I'd done for her over the years. That was a lovely gesture, if a little embarrassing.

Sunday 1st October 2023

And so it begins, the first of 365 photo posts I plan to launch onto the unexpecting public this year as I scurry towards being officially, in medical terms at least, geriatric. 

I can easily recall my mood before that very first posting a decade ago. I was awake in the middle of the night and while unable to get back to sleep the idea popped into my mind to document my 50th year. Ten years later having slept well overnight I rose at around 7am and ventured outside. It is an exceptionally mild day with the temperature here at 18oC at 7.30am. As I sat with my mug of tea pondering what image to begin the year with, the notion of the garden sprung into mind. So here it is, a snapshot of Julie's hard work. In a few weeks the garden will become dormant for winter, as the world changes I wonder what this year will bring to me to record.

I find it interesting documenting my life on a daily basis and that is the reason for the blog, it is simply a record. I also keep a paper diary which I love writing. Maybe it is not having children that drives me to record an unexceptional life, I have no one to pass this onto, but maybe in the world of the internet my ramblings will remain suspended in time within a cloud storage unit somewhere. 

Many things have changed since my last posting on September 30th 2019.  My mother died last year, my father is well but now housebound and as the Covid-19 pandemic hit the UK we inherited a cat called Gingernut. That wasn't always his name, previously he was Lester. He'd been missing from his owner for five years before he began living in our garden. We took him in and as they say the rest is history. I'm sure he will feature a few times this year, he's a little rascal.