Things on my Mind.

When I finally rolled out of bed this morning, a little later than normally because I had no plans at all for today, and filled the kettle for a cup of tea I looked at the smart meter which sits right by the breakfast counter. At first I thought it had gone wrong, perhaps it was broken? But no, everything else looked fine and I had to believe the rather alarming figure the meter showed. By midday, the total consumption for the day so far, without using any electricity except that first cup of tea and things like fridge and freezer, clocks and other stand-byes, had reached the charge that even last week would be my total cost for an ordinary day without laundry, vacuum cleaning or other heavy uses of electricity. Twice the cost already and in October energy prices are increasing by another 80%! And again in January. There are people in this country whose income is less than the cost of their energy. How are they going to manage? It's utterly frightening. And winter's just around the corner.

At the same time there are "preppers", millionaires and billionaires, I read this morning, who are discussing among themselves and with consultants, how best to organise life in underground bunkers come the inevitable collapse of society, for whatever reason. Climate change, mass migration, nuclear winter, a plague worse than Covid, you name it, they are preparing for it. Or so they think. Several of them have already retained small armies to defend their underground fortresses. When it's all over and they crawl back into whatever light of day there still is, do they think that their money will see them through? Money will be worthless in a post-apocalyptic world and they themselves will be surplus to requirements. Strikes me that only skilled people will survive, bakers, gardeners, engineers, etc. and any Navy Seal who knows the whereabouts of the preppers' food and water stores will make damn sure they will get their share of it, by whatever means.

For those of you who say 'don't believe everything you read' this very long and reputable article named names, quoted sources and was signed off by a 'consultant' who had been hired to advise the tech titans.

Some of you have asked "is the shroud + scaffolding gone?" No it isn't, and not likely to for some time, the very least until the end of October. As if I weren't miserable enough yet. I have cut small holes and gaps into the shroud, but I will soon be cutting larger windows. I have asked my solicitor to explore if I can have compensation. If only it weren't so expensive to involve legal experts like solicitors and judges.

On a lighter note: I watched the 1940 film of Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice' with Greer Garson, Maureen O'Sullivan and Laurence Olivier on TV at the weekend. (Do those names mean anything to people nowadays other than to such as me at my advanced age?) I have seen many newer versions on the BBC, some very recent, and I have to admit that the MGM 1940s version was a bit of a letdown. Large chunks of plot were left out, the women wore clothes from different eras, Regency customs were mercilessly adulterated, and the characters hardly developed from beginning to end of the film. Jane Austen's old dragon Lady Catherine de Burgh was turned into a fond aunt, I ask you. Mr. Darcy did not rise from the lake in his frilly shirt as Colin Firth's Mr. Darcy did in the 1995 version, much the best in my opinion of all the many adaptations. 

And then best news of all: it's finally raining!

A Title? for this mess?

 It’s getting harder and harder to come up with an interesting blogpost. I don’t go out socially, I only meet people very casually on a walk, when we stand and shout at each other from a distance, or the people who come to help around house and garden. The main topic of conversation is Covid and vaccinations, who’s had one and who’s still waiting. I’ve had one, the first of the two Astra Zeneca ones, which are now found to be unproven for the over 65s in European countries. I had mine last Saturday and apart from a sore arm I’ve had no ill effects so far.

So, would you like me to tell you that we had a lovely morning and a very wet afternoon? No, why would you want to know? Would you like me to tell you about the several virus mutations appearing on several continents, two of them in the UK alone? No, you already know that if you are even semi-conscious. Would you like to know that a small bird flew into the window but then must have recovered and flown off again because I couldn’t see a body. (Unless, of course, a raptor chased it and snapped it up for dinner). 

But here’s something which might interest you: shall I tell you that I’ve put on several kilos during the lockdown lockup and decided to go easy on the chocolate and drink less wine in the new year? If I tell you that I lasted less than a week would you be interested? No, of course not, why would you.

So, how about this, seeing that today, the 2nd of February, is Candlemas,’St Mary’s Feast of the Candles’,(’Mariae Lichtmess’ in Germany), officially the Feast of the Purification and the Presentation of Christ in the Temple. Today therefore, in the Catholic Church, lights and candles are blessed and candlelit services and processions are held. In Germany these candles are lit throughout the year during times of sickness and stress and personal hardship. Just the thing for an epidemic, methinks.

Candlemas Day, plant beans in the clay

Put candles and candlesticks all away.

By this season it has grown light enough to do most ‘inside work’ without candles, the verse continues. Really? Not where I live unless people stop ‘inside work' at 5 o’clock. I hardly do any work at all in winter, inside or out, does that mean I don’t deserve light? Sometimes I wish I weren’t quite as lazy and unmotivated, had a bit more oomph. At other times I find laziness suits me.

Of course, today is also Groundhog Day, a weather forecaster not only in the US, although different kinds of animals are used as forecasters, a hedgehog might be the animal being so very unkindly roused from its hibernation in Germany.

If Candlemas Day bring snow and rain

Winter is gone, and won’t come again.

If Candlemas Day be clear and bright

Winter will have another flight.

And if your Candlemas Day brings both sun and rain, as mine did, what is the prognosis then? Wishy-washy weeks? 

And finally, a bit of advice:

A good farmer should have, on Candlemas Day,

half his turnips and half his hay.

Sorry, I have no idea what that means. Also, for the life of me, I cannot see what possible comments this post could provoke.