The Day the Whirlwind De-clutters descended on me!

I trust that my good family and friends will enjoy the following and have a few laughs at my expense as I work towards recovery from my breathing problem . . .

I am given understand that there is a TV programme in which two ladies of a few summers and more winters descend on an unsuspecting person to de-clutter their home.  I am told that this is unpleasant viewing for those of a nervous disposition, so I have never watched it, preferring Have I Got News for You, Mock the Week and the Mish Report - all of which make me laugh (often out loud!) at the ludicrous clowns who are trying to govern our wonderful country as they take us even further down the road to destruction and make us the laughing stock of the world! Help!

Yesterday the Whirlwind De-clutters descended on me. Led by the Senior De-clutterer, my glorious daughter-in-law, Danielle Jeffries, all the way from Dorset, and ably assisted by my wonderful daughter, Heather Barrow (if a little reluctant at first, but who soon got into the swing!)  while the third member of the entourage was somewhat to the rear and clearly not wishing to upset the applecart, but ready to carry black sacks when called upon, Graham Jeffries, my faithful eldest son.

First, they attacked the bedroom. Off came any lined embroidered cloths on dressing table and other tops. These were for washing, ironing and putting away with the other similar embroidered cloths by Yvonne and her Mother.  Polished wood is best for keeping dust away - and I do not need dust for my breathing. 

Too many things out on top of dressing table - and into drawers they went (and I am finding things again!). Hats and scarves in a small cabinet into a large drawer in dressing table. Cabinet now surplus to requirements (this went to Dorset with my blessing). Off came a beloved throw over the ottoman (travel metal trunk of shining glow storing spare bed linen) as this was a dust trap. Consigned to black sack.

Next the team dashed to the bathroom. Here all cleaning materials on the floor were found new homes in cupboards and anything that is not needed was sorted. Further some things from the bedroom found better homes here - but let them be nameless! I am now growing a beard to save shaving - and the new beard trimmer is on hand - but in its bag, of course (where else?).

Into the kitchen where major work was undertaken. The worktop has been home to all the things I use almost every day. But that is no longer. Some 80% of these things are now stored in cupboards or the fridge so that the worktop is almost devoid any life whatsoever. I now have so much space to move around it is just amazing. The shelf at the window was full. Not anymore. Just a dish for the cat food spoon, Tomorite (for fertilising the tomatoes - why not!) and a water spray for plants. All cleaning materials to cupboard under the sink where they belong. Clean surfaces with no dust.

Fridge and freezer were emptied and cleaned with vigour and determination, the like which I have not seen since dear Yvonne passed away or Heather brings to the fore when helping me in house and garden (that lass can now plant up anything but especially tomatoes). The freezer now has the middle section with foodstuffs - but not many - as the top section will now be home to six ready meals from Wiltshire Farm Foods. I have reluctantly agreed to try this to save me having to cook while I learn to manage my breathing with the help of the Respiratory Clinic and COPD Community Nurses. First delivery is due on Tuesday. I can’t wait! Bottom section is for frozen fruits which I have for my pudding/sweet/dessert each day.

The gas cooker is to go - to be replaced by tumble drier next to the washing machine. A small electric cooker will go on top of this - just with hot plates to enable me to boil eggs or water. I have a microwave for the prepared meals and toaster. This will happen when there is to be a Family Meeting at my home on 20th July for which Richard and Stine will fly home from Norway and Graham and Danielle wil travel from Dorset to be joined by Heather and Rob  from Chigwell Row. This is a “Sort Dad Out Day”! But they have said they will be kind and they are. 

With George my garden-man coming tomorrow to finish preserving the wooden sheds and summerhouse, and helping to keep the garden tidy, and Daphne, my cleaner coming every Friday, I can keep things going. Socks now has an automatic feeder machine which I am able to load so that it opens twice a day and he is now going to look for it at the right times. I can do the washing - non-iron shirts, handkerchiefs which I boil in stain remover first, tea towels (which are ironed to keep up standards). I do ironing sitting on a stool. Magic!

So there! I had wonderful Father’s Day with cards from the family. Now it is time for some relaxing and sleep!

Take care, good friends

Ron/Dad/Granddad/Great Granddad

Fire!

Family and friends will recall that early last year the electricity here in the Old Homestead blew up, necessitating a complete rewiring, with socket outlets all 15 inches above the floor (to avoid floods, I was told - even upstairs!), the provision of a massive light in the rear garden (which lights up the entire neighbourhood if there is movement) and smoke alarms (one in the kitchen, one in the hall and another on the landing). More of the latter later for no-one explained anything about these . . .

Today I journeyed to Fairlop Waters in the buggy to photograph Jenny in the nature reserve. Read next week’s ILFORD RECORDER when all will be revealed.

And so as I was there, I drove over to the Farm Shop on Forest Road, there to stock up with some fine fresh fruit and other goodies. The seeded bread rolls look good - and tasted even better - and I enjoyed the punnet of Dutch strawberries sitting beside the lake and watching youngsters paddling rafts built of oil drums and spars (just as we used to do when I was Scout Leader hereabouts in the 60s).

Amongst my purchases was a pack of asparagus, a luxury I have learned to enjoy once or twice. And so I decided to have five sprigs and three rashers of bacon for my evening meal. The bacon went in the Ramuska whilst the asparagus was seasoned and placed in the frying pan with a little oil. I stood by to watch.

Suddenly - and without any warning - the smoke alarm in the kitchen sent out the sort of screeching that signalled the world was coming to an end (or that Boris was the new PM). At that point something rather important struck me. No-one had told me how to stop the wretched smoke alarm from blasting out into the neighbourhood the message that Ron was about to incinerate his home.

First, I had the presence of mind to turn off both appliances! Then I waved an ironed tea towel in the air - but it did not reach. Screeeeeeech! Out into the garden to bring a long handled broom. I poked with the handle.Screeeeeeech!  I turned the broom around and gave the smoke alarm a firm brushing. Screeeeeeech!  But then it stopped!

Please someone, tell me how to stop a smoke alarm?

 

Regards

Ron

PS The Asparagus was delicious, of slightly singed at the ends, and the bacon was tasty. A bowl of fruit for dessert. I may have a cake before bed!

Buggy ride .. .

It is a fact that I would not have made a competent driver of motorised transport.  And today proved it! I tried to learn to drive in my early twenties, but could not remember which was the brake and which the accelerator - a common fault, I gather, in those olden times of the 50s among a small percentage of the population (some say by the more intelligent, but I would not dare to repeat such a whimsical statement in public).  But in any case, I wanted to marry and buy a house - so a car was out of the question.

Today I had a telephone consultation with my GP, who has decided that in - addition to using the nebuliser as and when during the day - I am to have two tablets of steroids every day. That should steady me up a bit.

Rejoicing in that news, I set off in the buggy to the pharmacy to collect the prescription and to do some shopping. The forecast said there might be a rain shower - so I took an umbrella just in case. All went well as  I rode merrily along Oaks Lane, Chase Lane, Perryman’s Farm Road and into Aldi. 

Then I crossed Horns Road (at the traffic lights) and entered Britannia Pharmacy to purchase some personal bottles and sprays to ensure that I project a pleasing aroma. Here a spied a young lady stacking shelves, so I asked her where I might find such things. But when I followed her I reversed instead of going ahead and crashed into a display stand - which, fortunately, was robust enough to remain where it had stood since early morning. The young lady laughed. Nothing broken. Driving towards the cash desk, I somehow became immersed in the straps that marked the area where the queue forms - and had to be rescued by the same young lady. Who smiled and laughed again. I think it made her day.

Next stop B & Q. I decided to ride round the store to find the items I needed, rather than park outside and push a trolley. I safely navigated where I had to go, but found that the plants I wanted to buy were on the outdoor car park. I started to leave the store - but being Wednesday when B & Q Club Members are afforded 10% discounts, the till area was crowded. 

It was here that I fear I lost my presence of mind!

Reversing, I spotted what I thought were automatic exit barriers. They were not. They were entry barriers. I tried to go through but the barriers were having none of it - and set off screeching alarms. Now what is very odd is that not a single member of staff came over. It was left to a young male shopper to extricate me from the barriers, which were giving my arms a fair battering. I drove out, accompanied  by the alarms making a cacophony of sound that had fellow shoppers standing in awe as they waited for the arrival of the police - who never came.

I parked. Walked to pick up the plants. Back inside I paid. Outside I mounted the buggy and set off. Smiling at all around (for what else do you do?) I was off to Perryman’s Farm Road and Chase Lane at maximum speed (4mph). And here came the rain. Fishing the umbrella from beneath the bananas, grapes and cake (yes, cake!), I set off for home. It was an amusing journey in that passers-by smiled and, in one or two cases, laughed aloud at this old chap careering along with a brolly aloft. I must look into an all-weather canopy for the buggy, although I guess some folk had a tale to tell their friends in the pub this evening. 

Happy Days indeed!

News Release!

A good friend, recently retired, has suggested that I missed a trick with April Fool's Day on Monday. I should have issued a New Release on the following lines:

Breaking News: Buckingham Palace to be re-sited on Fairlop Plain!

News has been released this morning that the iconic palace, Buckingham Palace, is to be re-sited on the green belt of Fairlop Plain. The move will take five years as each brick and stone will be numbered to ensure that the building retains all its much-loved features in the new site. The gardens will be lifted in six metre squares. The whole edifice will be surrounded by a deep moat on which MPs, who are so inclined, will be permitted to float their duck houses.

In addition to the moat, there will be a 20 feet high barbed wire fence. Ivy and flowering clematis will grow on the inside to give royalty a pleasant outlook. The other side will be pretty grim, but what matter!

Said a spokesman: "The moat and barbed wire fence are necessary as a local resident has threatened to lie down in front of the first Royal car and to disrupt any garden parties. It is believed he is a member of the Aldborough Hatch Defence Association (AHDA), an organisation which is now banned under the recently introduced legislation regarding illicit and dangerous gatherings in public places.

"Members of the public are asked to be vigilant and to report any sitings of members of the AHDA, especially Octogenarians. They should not be approached as they may be carrying pitchforks and are easily disturbed."

A spokesman for Redbridge Council welcomed the move of Buckingham Palace to the Borough commenting: "This is just the sort of iconic building we have been looking for on the green belt most of which is just ploughed dirt and earth. Once up, the rest will be concreted over to save time with grass cutting, hedge and tree pruning, and the like.

"We will invite Her Majesty the Queen to the Town Centre on the first Friday of each month when Her Majesty will be autographing photographs of herself with the Leader of the Council - the cash raised going to pay for fact-finding trips to Dubai, Hong Kong, Barbados and other places with similar issues to face to those in Redbridge. These will be of month long duration for obvious reasons (and you can work that out without me explaining!)."

ENDS

All inquiries should be addressed to Father Christmas and the F airies at the Bottom of my Garden

Garden time

There is much afoot in my rear garden! The ranch fence I built 54 years ago finally collapsed in the winter, but the concrete posts are in good heart (although George, who is fixing the fence for me, tells me that they are not in a straight line!). Tmber arrived today, new bolts are in place and it should all take shape tomorrow.

Meantime I have been busy in the greenhouse, potting up Moneymaker Tomato plants for the Community Memorial Garden at St. Peter's and Tumbling Tomatoes for my hanging baskets.

I have also made a start at propagating some salvia - Africa Sky and Hot Lips are my favourites.

Nice warm sunshine today - more work in the greenhouse tomorrow.

Where have all the ties gone?

I attended a residents' association's coffee morning today. Some dozen or so men were there - and I was the only one wearing a tie. Even the speaker was tie-less.

Sitting on a bus recently in the City of London at lunchtime, I noticed that about 10% of men in suits wore ties.

What is England coming to, I ask myself? I am about to go into the greenhouse and will still be wearing a tie.

I am not a Colonel Blimp nor a right-wing or left-wing bigot. In fact, I am very liberal in my outlook and views - and some say very young for my 86 years.

But this tie-less age is getting me very, very upset. No wonder Tie Rack closed down!

No Booing!

A small colour leaflet dropped through my door today. Headed 'Zumba Fitness', it attracted my immediate attention.

I have no idea what Zumba is, but guess it might be some sort of dance gymnastics. Sub-headings read: 'Pay as you go', 'No contract', 'Classes are just £6'. I was becoming interested, but then two lines hit me between the eyes.

The first read: ' Ladies only' - so that ruled me out.

The second read: 'No Booing Necessary'. Yes, No Booing! What is happening here? Do these Ladies Boo - and if so why? And why is it unnecessary? Surely booing is not very lady-like!

I need some answers or I will not sleep soundly this evening - especially as these sessions are to be held starting this Thursday evening in a hall not a few yards from where I live. I am