Week 887

Sunday, 21st December, 2025

Today is the shortest day of the year and tonight is the longest night. Everything gets better from here, Dear Reader. Dust off your bikini. The Summer is coming!

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse ….

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below.

What a lot of nonsense. Outside it is blue sky with strong sun. The grass is growing and the birds are signalling signs of Spring. There are daffodils forcing their heads up to the sky and trees budding with sweet, new green tips.

**The fingers of Spring are clawing at the dooor of Winter.**

We are well past the middle of December and 2025 is dying fast. Our neighbours are setting off on the 27th for an 11 week cruise of the Caribbean. Four other neighbour households are arranging a joint holiday on Skiathos. I have booked up 4 different trips abroad amounting to 10 weeks abroad so far. In the new year, I will be looking to organise a few days away in France – the first of at least three of those trips – and, currently, we are considering some city breaks of perhaps 4 days each in Prague and Seville.

I know very little about modern Prague but it has long been a place of significance in my head. The Prague Spring of 1968 when Alexander Dubček was elected leader of Communist Party of Czechoslovakia and began a process of cultural and economic liberalisation which encouraged mass protest against Soviet domination. It was short lived and was crushed by Soviet tanks in August 1968 but it was a start of what Putin is fighting to regain now in Ukraine – an Empire. It was the time that I was beginning to take an interest in politics and world affairs with real thought for the first time. It would be interesting to visit in Spring 2026.

I know virtually nothing about Seville other than their oranges form the basis of our marmalade. Actually, I’m not even keen on that. It feels like the stuff of our parents rather than a ‘hip’ young person like me. My housekeeper’s choice of romatic destination, I had to look it up on the web. It is the capital and largest city of Andalusia, you know. It wasn’t until 1979 that Spain held its first democratic municipal elections after the end of Franco’s dictatorship. Incredible.

The most amazing thing I have found is the difference in prices between the two destinations. Easyjet flights to Seville are at least double the price for Prague. A Suite for 4 nights in a 4*/5* hotel is at least three times more expensive in Seville than in Prague although the Czech hotels look better quality. It’s going to be a fun year topped off by a week in Oldham, Dear Reader. What more could you want?

Monday, 22nd December, 2025

Wonderfully warm and sunny morning. Have to do some shopping. Thought early this morning would be the best option. If it was, I wouldn’t like to repeat it tomorrow. The roads were really busy. The carparks were horribly busy. The supermarkets were intolerably busy. Even under that pressure, people were polite and relaxed which is typical down here. It would be different in Surrey or Manchester.

I don’t do God and I don’t do Christmas. I know. I am boring. I do giving but don’t like/cope with receiving. I bought a tin of the sickliest, most appalling chocolates for my neighbour, Filippo’s kids to make them thoroughly sick on Christmas day which I consider obligatory and that is as far as I’ve gone.

I’m not keen on Marks & Spencer and we rarely shop there but we’ve been 4 times in the past month. The one redeeming feature of it is that it is opposite the beach and pier. It gives me a chance to walk, look and photograph.

“But the sun brightened—
It brightened, and Crow returned charred black ….”

Today, I made a new friend on the promenade. She didn’t say a lot but I knew what she was thinking. I thought the same.

A few years ago I heard Bob Mortimer tell a story on Would I Lie to You about being a guest of someone called Chris Rea who cracked an egg into his bath. I can’t remember why but nor had I heard of Chris Rea. I had to look him up and found he was a musician who was associated with the song, ‘Driving Home for Christmas’ which I thought I’d heard somewhere.
Anyway, I was shocked to read today that Chris Rea died this morning at the tender age of 74. There’s too much of this dying!

Certainly this Christmas we will remember people we have lost. We will remember Phyllis who died this year but we will also remember my Mother-in-Law, Jane who is so much missed. Here she is in all her cheekiness at Christmas time in Yorkshire in 2008.

Tuesday, 23rd December, 2025

Warm but grey this morning. Since returning from Tenerife three weeks ago, we really haven’t felt traditional December weather at all. The newspapers have been full of confident predictions of snow across the country. They haven’t happened and are not predicted by the Met. Office to happpen in the near future.

Having been a Climate Change denier for a long time, in recent years I have had to face the facts and accept its central tenets. Even so, it doesn’t really bother me. Warmer times will suit me fine although I know some, old ladies will struggle with it.

It certainly is quite a remarkable trend over my lifetime which I have amplified by moving to the South Coast. Having left the land of ice and snow for the coast of sea and sunshine I appreciate it even more in older age.

Sixteen years ago, I had been retired for almost a year but was still living in Yorkshire. The winter of 2009 was a harsh one yet, even then, not as bad as the 1950s & 60s.

In this week 16 years ago, I was driving through scenes like this on the A62 from Yorkshire to Lancashire. They are beautiful but once you’ve observed that, what else is there to admire about freezing cold and icey roads, putting your life at risk and salt attacking your car. Why would you volunteer for it when you could live in the sunshine?

In those days, it was either to wait for the digger to clear the A62 Moors Road or take your life in your hands in a white-out on M62 highest stretch of motorway in England.

It was our last Christmas in Quarry Court and our last Christmas with my lovely Mother-in-Law. We struggled over the Pennines to get her and struggled to take her back. The garden was out of bounds.

In our garden down here today, Geraniums are still flowering as is the Fuscia Janey named after Mum-in-Law and we are picking fresh Rosemary and Parsley for our meal. In the end, one has to acknowledge the evidence.

Filippo, our lovely neighbour from Parma, came over this morning with a bottle of wine from his homeland. He and his wife are both medical scientists who mainly work from home. They are a delightful couple who have two, young children we hardly ever see never mind hear. Within an hour, we were tasting it as an accompaniment to the most wonderful smoked salmon I have ever eaten. We bought a side of smoked salmon from our fresh fish suppliers and we are so pleased with it.

Wednesday, 24th December, 2025

Up early this morning. Driving up to Surrey. Hoping to beat the mania that is the M25 on Christmas Eve. It is madness and I wouldn’t be doing it out of choice but I know my duty. By midday, I will be trying to park in Woking multi storey carpark. Can you imagine it? Wish me well, Dear reader. See you on the other side.

***Woking Crematorium – he oldest in England.***

Well, the drive up was wonderful, very quiet and easy. We arrived by 10.30 am. Cup of coffee and off to the Dementia Facility. Picked up C and on to Woking Crematorium where we had a short ceremony to place Phyllis’ ashes urn in a memorial stone. It was a nice but cold memorial.

On to the Theatre. That was the start of eating too much. Tables booked at the restaurant where we shared pizzas. Then in to the auditorium where we watched a clever version of Snow White with Rob Rinder and Leslie Joseph as leads. It was cleverly presented and even I enjoyed it although it lasted two hours.

On to Supper at the Maybury Inn just a few hundred yards from where we used to live a decade ago. We had a fairly average two course meal with wine which cost £375.00. It was the sort of poor quality meal that confirms me in not eating out very often.

I had a Fritto Misto starter followed by Surf & Turf – Roast Pork with Scallops – main course. I’m afraid it was only just passable ‘Pub Food’ and I wouldn’t recommend it.

Thursday, 25th December, 2025

A very happy Christmas to all readers of the Blog. It is starting off with stark, blue skies and bright sunshine but cold. For many, maybe most people, this is a time of happiness and celebration. It is my 74th Christmas and I woke up feeling sad. I was listening to an analysis of Edward Elgar at 5.00 am and that set the mood music and then I thought of missing people from my life. Alright, I am strange but it is who I am.

I first met Edward Elgar, the man responsible for Land of Hope & Glory, Pomp & Circumstance and The Dream of Gerontius, when I was at a low ebb in 1973 and delivering a course for Dutch teachers who were studying English Language and Culture. It was delivered at my old college in Ripon and we played them what was then considered to be quintessentially English music in the form of Elgar’s Enigma Variations.

I’ve always considered him an Edwardian gentleman with whom I had little in common but, when you get down to it, he was just a man as I am. He had his loves and fears, his likes and dislikes and he had the need to express himself, to communicate with the world as I do. He chose music, I choose words. This morning I learnt a lot more about him. Like me, he was brought up a Roman Catholic but, unlike me, that informed his life.

He wrote the Enigma Variations at the turn of the century and 15 years before the start of World War. It is split into 14 variations. Each one is based on a person in his life. The first is to his wife, Alice. Another is on a girlfriend of his and another on his best friend and fellow musician and so on. This one called Nimrod, legendary biblical figure from Genesis, known as a mighty hunter, was playing this morning, playing so sadly that the memories flooded back and made me weep silently.

Went down to the beach to forget. Walking on the Beach this morning was absolutely delightful. Saw a few birds and one said she was 74. I really find it hard to believe.

It is cold out there today – 9C/48F – and I am going to spend a couple of hours in the Gym. I’ve had my sun quota for the day. It will give me an excuse to watch my latest favourite Spy thriller –Deep State – on Disney+. Let’s get on to our 75th Christmas, Dear Reader. I’ve just been watching famous obituaries for 2025. It comes to us all. Happy Christmas!

Friday, 26th December, 2025

Boxing Day – another anachronism we should sweep away and then the world can go back to work and leave the Retired in peace. The boys are driving up to Manchester this morning for the match at Old Trafford this evening. After Newcastle go 3 up and the Theatre of Dreams becomes a nightmare, they have to drive all the way back to Surrey to be ready for work on Saturday morning.

I, on the other hand, will be watching from the comfort of my sofa. Might even put the central heating on. It was so cold last night – 0C/32F – that I put it on downstairs for an hour before getting up this morning. It isn’t going well for England in the cricket and I don’t hold out great hopes for United at the moment.

I am watching so much Drama at the moment that I can hardly keep up with the plots. Yesterday, I wrote that I was watching Deep State – on Disney+ in the Gym. Last night I watched two very contrasting items. I have no idea why I get drawn into it other than I am an incurable romantic but I watched Love Actually on Land TV for the umpteenth time. I really like Emma Thompson and Keira Knightley and I really want to be Prime Minister. That would solve everything!

At the end of the evening, we started watching a much more challenging but gripping Drama Directed by Kate Winslet who is also one of the daughters of Helen Mirren who is dying of cancer and her husband, Timothy Spall.

I managed just 30 mins last night but was spellbound by the siblings all falling out about what should happen to their Mother as the cancer spread and becomes terminal – imminently terminal. It is so realistic and yet so shocking. I have seen it and felt it and it feels so real. Escapism this is not.

In one guise or not, this happens to us all in our lifetimes. We all have Mothers and they all die usually before us. It is how you and they deal with it that counts. I’ve got another 45 mins to come tonight. That should be fun.

What I’m really looking forward to is the return of The Night Manager – an espionage Thriller based on the characters created by John le Carré. It starts on Thursday to kick off the New Year. All this sedentary activity has to be balanced out by walking and that’s where I’m going now into the crisp sunshine of the end of the year.

I would warn you, Dear Readers, to beware. There is a Cake fiend on the loose. He thrives on it and may be dangerous. The hats may be interchangeable but the cake is definitely his. My old friends from the Dementia Ward – Peter, Tash, Chris & Kevin – seem to have escaped again and sent this photo to greet me this morning.

I am well out of it. A bit of Bubbly and smoked salmon sandwiches for Lunch will get me through the day although I will have to supplement my walk with a bit of self-flagellation in the Gym later.

Saturday, 27th December, 2025

A crystal clear morning of piercing sunshine from a clear blue sky. Certainly one to clear the head and focus the mind. I’ve got the inevitable supermarket trip and then some Office work before going out to enjoy a walk. Christmas is past, thank goodness, and I produced a final, emotional memory for M & P.

Pauline’s last Christmas with her Mum was a wonderful one and then 12 years on, instead of cooking for them on the day as usual, during Covid restrictions we drove up to The Surrey Home for the Bewildered where staff had got a couple of inmates up and dressed in time to receive and look grateful for their pre-prepared Christmas feast.

One of the things I’ve had to do this morning is urgently get to grips with the new Schengen European entry exit system calculator. I have visions of us being turned away at the border. I’ve still got French trips to sort out and it’s looking tight but doable. Fortunately, Oldham doesn’t count.

The hooligans managed to guide an escapee from the Home for the Bewildered all the way up to Old Trafford. You can see here that he is struggling to keep hold of reality. He even bought me an xtra large shirt.