Showing posts with label Lockdown. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lockdown. Show all posts

8 December 2022

A Christmas Card from Amanda

So this is Christmas?


 


This is what I might write – if I could write.  Or, perhaps, what I would say, if I could speak.  But, things are what they are and I hope you are well.  As some may know, I have something called Semantic Dementia, and I am not as well as I was.....  At the beginning of lockdown, I wrote a lot of cards, cutting and pasting and making lovely Christmas (and Birthday) cards for some of my oldest friends, and I did this for every year, up to 2029....  then I ran out of something, I don’t know what.  So, sorry if you don’t hear from me personally in the post.....



 



I just want to wish everyone lots of happy times.  It is cold today, and crispy, and perhaps we will have sprinkles and icicles coming, but I am warm inside my home......  It isn’t the same as where I was last Christmas, but there are more people around me, and they are kind, and I have food and I am warm.....  




 



Sometimes people come to see me, and take me out.  Thank you, Jane, and Adam, and Amanda.  It is lovely to have music and to see people around.  And I love having cups of tea......



 



And Dad comes to see me, and he gives me breakfast and takes me out.  We go to Hunstanton, or Sandringham, or Holm or Thornham, where we used to walk – but I cannot walk much now.  I had to go to hospital some time ago, and I was in the ambulance for a long long time before they took me to the Stroke Ward (though they didn’t stroke me?  - see, I haven’t entirely lost a sense of humour!)  Then I went back to the home and I now go about in a wheeled chair most of the time.







Dad takes pictures – lots of them.  We have albums of our memories – even if I cannot remember them.  But I recognise somethings.  Our cats, lovely Meadow:  





and Mr White and Denmark:







And I loved our walks, sometimes early, sometimes late.  I loved the geese, honking overhead as they came and went:


  



And the pigs in the woods on Lodge Hill:





And the village, with the turning seasons.  Christmas lights and dark nights:



 


I wish I could see you.  I wish I could speak.  I wish I could walk.  But I know that God is looking after me, so you mustn’t worry.  Our daughters come to see me when they can, and it is so good to see them, they are lovely, and we are all having happy times......



 



Some people write long pieces about how the year has been, and about their latest grandchildren and their dogs (and their sciatica, Ed), but we don’t have them and I cannot remember yesterday, never mind last year.  Although I know where I was and where I still go.  I love the Christmas lights and the Church and I know that everlasting arms are beneath, around, above – God it is who bears us on, His, the arms we lean upon.  The joy that none can take away, is ours.  We walk with love today....



 



Try not to feel sad, but happy and grateful for all we’ve shared and learned together and know that God is always guiding and taking care of everyone and showing everyone where to go at the right time and sending love......



 


Happy Christmas, and Many, Many Happy New Years!





So this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun

And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear ones
The old and the young

A very Merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear


John Lennon






28 April 2022

Time Out of Mind

Not Dark Yet.....





Shadows are fallin' and I've been here all day
It's too hot to sleep and time is runnin' away
Feel like my soul has turned into steel
I've still got the scars that the sun didn't heal
There's not even room enough to be anywhere
It's not dark yet but it's gettin' there






Well, my sense of humanity has gone down the drain
Behind every beautiful thing there's been some kind of pain
She wrote me a letter and she wrote it so kind
She put down in writin' what was in her mind
I just don't see why I should even care
It's not dark yet but it's gettin' there






Partygate: A timeline of the lockdown gatherings


BBC, April 19 2022

 

The government has faced intense pressure over gatherings held in and around Downing Street during Covid lockdowns. Senior civil servant Sue Gray has said that many of them “should not have been allowed to take place or to develop in the way that they did.” Here is what we know about them and the restrictions in place at the time:

 

15 May 2020

 

A photo from May 2020 showed the prime minister and his staff with bottles of wine and a cheeseboard in the Downing Street garden. When asked about it, Boris Johnson said, those people were at work talking about work.


The rules:

 

Legal restrictions at the time said you could not leave your house without a reasonable excuse and government guidance was that you could meet one person outside of your household in an outdoor setting while exercising.

 

This event is not being investigated by the police.


My diary:


Went over to Studham, parked by the church, walked across fields and then on Icknield Way skirting Whipsnade.  

 

20 May 2020

 

About 100 people were invited by email to socially distanced drinks in the No 10 garden this evening. Witnesses told the BBC the PM and his wife were among about 30 people who attended.


Boris Johnson apologised to MPs for attending the event, saying he spent 25 minutes thanking staff, before returning to his office.

 

This event is being investigated by the police.


My diary:


Two short walks (total 3 miles) today - first at St Albans where Amanda tried all the cathedral doors again, and then Nomansland, where they have reopened the National Trust car park.  My right knee very painful today.  Home-made pizza  in evening; Amanda's hair wash, then final two episodes of The Sopranos.


 

18 June 2020

 

A gathering took place in the Cabinet Office to mark the departure of a No 10 private secretary.

This event is being investigated by the police.

 

We know at least one fine has been issued after the government's former head of ethics admitted receiving one and apologised for attending the event.


My diary:


A wet morning! But we drove to Wheathampstead and walked along the Lea to Water End and then back via the Ayot Greenway.  Not too bad! (4.8m).  Carer Sue came with Jen who may stand in for Sue next week.  I went to post and to allotment.  Amanda had gone back to bed but I got her up and she walked with Sue and Jen.

 

19 June 2020

 

On Boris Johnson’s birthday, up to 30 people gathered in the Cabinet Room at No 10 to present the prime minister with a birthday cake and sing Happy Birthday, according to a report by ITV News.

 

No 10 said staff had gathered briefly to wish the prime minister a happy birthday, adding that he had been there for less than 10 minutes.

 

The rules:

 

Restrictions at the time banned most indoor gatherings involving more than two people.

This event is being investigated by the police.

 

We know at least three attendees have received fines from the police, with the PM, his wife Carrie Symonds and Chancellor Rishi Sunak all confirming they have paid fixed penalty notices.


My diary:


Grey morning, spitting a bit.  Drove to Ayres End and walked round Heartwood (3.7m); very green and grey and quiet, apart from the dog walkers.  Sue came pm - A in bed but I got her up and she had a nice walk.  I went to allotment.

 

13 November 2020

 

Sue Gray’s report said two gatherings took place in Downing Street on this date: one to mark the departure of a special adviser and one in the Downing Street flat.

 

According to a report in the Daily Telegraph, the gathering in the flat where Mr Johnson and his wife live was to celebrate the departure of Dominic Cummings, the PM's former senior adviser. A spokesman for Mrs Johnson denies the party took place.

 

The rules:

 

Eight days earlier Boris Johnson had announced a new lockdown in England. Indoor gatherings with other households were banned, unless they were for work purposes.

 

These events are being investigated by the police.


My diary:


Drove to Nomansland and walked up to Wheathampstead, across to Coleman Green and back via Heartwood (4.2m).  Raining to start but cleared and good colours.  Jen came and took A out and I rode my bike to Nomansland and then up to Beech Hyde Lane and back via Nomansland (8m).



 



27 November 2020

 

A leaving event was held for No 10 aide, Cleo Watson, where people were drinking, and Mr Johnson made a speech, according to sources.

 

This event is not being investigated by the police.


My diary:


Drove to Nomansland and walked through Heartwood to Hammonds Farm and back.  Hard frost and thick mist - very beautiful (4.1m).  Jen came for the last time and walked Amanda, while I rode my bike to Childwickbury Goats and back.

 

10 December 2020


The Department for Education has confirmed it had an office gathering to thank staff for their work during the pandemic. It says drinks and snacks were brought by those who attended and no outside guests or support staff were invited.

 

The rules:

 

Eight days earlier, London had been placed in restrictions which banned two or more people from different households from meeting indoors, unless reasonably necessary for work purposes.


This event is not being investigated by the police.


My diary:


Drove to Wheathampstead Cricket ground; walked up and across to Beech Hyde and Cromer Hyde and back via Heartwood.  Grey but quiet and pleasant (3.8m).  Then to pick up Kinder Brioss etc from Buongiorno Italia (St Albans).  Sue came and I rode to Childwickbury Goats.  FaceTimed Ben.

 

14 December 2020

 

The Conservative Party has admitted that an unauthorised gathering took place at its HQ in Westminster. It was held by the team of the party's London-mayoral candidate, Shaun Bailey, who has since stepped down as chair of the London Assembly police and crime committee.


In December, police said they would be contacting two people who attended the party.

 

This event was not included in Sue Gray's report.


My diary:


Drove to Nomansland and walked through new Heartwood and then back over Heartwood to Nomansland.  Great sky but very wet underfoot (4m).  Eva here for Amanda.

 

16 December 2020

 

The Department for Transport has apologised after confirming reports of a party in its offices, calling it inappropriate and an error of judgment by staff.

 

This event was not included in Sue Gray's report.


My diary:


Drove to Redbourn and walked via Nicholls Farm to the path above Trowley Bottom.  Very muddy and quite windy but not rainy. (4.5m).  Very wet and dark - Sue came for A but didn't go out.

 

17 December 2020

 

A leaving party was held at the Cabinet Office for the outgoing head of the civil service Covid taskforce - the team responsible for drawing up coronavirus restrictions.

 

Kate Josephs, now chief executive of Sheffield City Council, apologised for the event, saying she was truly sorry that I did this and for the anger that people will feel as a result.

 

A second gathering was held in the Cabinet Office to hold an online Christmas quiz for the Cabinet Secretary’s private office.

 

A third gathering was held in No 10 Downing Street to mark the departure of a No 10 official.

 

These events are being investigated by the police.


My diary:


Drove to Startops End and walked round the reservoir and along the canal.  Bright morning but still very wet underfoot (3.3m). Did not see much.  Sue took A out for a good walk pm while I rode to Childwickbury Goats. FaceTimed Ben.

 

18 December 2020


Downing Street originally denied a report by the Daily Mirror that a party took place in Downing Street. However, a video obtained by ITV News showed the prime minister's then-press secretary Allegra Stratton, joking about reports of an event, saying: This fictional party was a business meeting and it was not socially distanced.

 

This event is being investigated by the police.


My diary:


Very grisly morning - drove to the Bridgewater Arms and a had a pleasant but muddy walk round the Ashridge Golf Course (3.2m).  Very wet and grisly in the afternoon and not feeling great.

 


 

Well, I've been to London and I been to gay Paris
I've followed the river and I got to the sea
I've been down on the bottom of the world full of lies
I ain't lookin' for nothin' in anyone's eyes
Sometimes my burden is more than I can bear
It's not dark yet but it's gettin' there




I was born here and I'll die here against my will
I know it looks like I'm movin' but I'm standin' still
Every nerve in my body is so naked and numb
I can't even remember what it was I came here to get away from
Don't even hear the murmur of a prayer
It's not dark yet but it's gettin' there

Not Dark Yet

Bob Dylan

Time Out of Mind

1997


Yeah, I bent the rules a little - I may have driven a mile or two more from my home than recommended;  I may have gone out twice a day when the rules prescribed only once.  

Whew!

Perhaps I will get a fine?

But, with the exception of our paid and licensed carers who visited to help look after Amanda, we saw NO ONE during the lock down periods.

Once a week I would stand on my doorstep, at 8.00pm on Thursdays, and clap the NHS, despite an awkward feeling that this wasn't really helpful and that it was somehow condoning the extraordinary wastefulness and probable cronyism of the ruling party.....


The above is a very simple list of dates when the Party Monster was having a happy time and we (Amanda and I) were eking out our miserable existences in a world where our only hope was that we could go somewhere for a three mile walk each day.  

Punto.  

Basta.





With thanks to the BBC

x



18 July 2020

Streets of London

Let me take you by the hand....



In the winter of '71 (I think - it was some years ago.....) I stayed with my second (?) cousin Jasper and his wife.  They had a flat on the third floor in Vauxhall Bridge Road and I was a wayward sixth former with pretensions towards further education...

Anyway, it became dark, and it became quiet, and we realised that it was snowing.  All of a (what's the opposite of sudden?) we realised that this was a Dickensian moment.

So we hurried to explore the city in their Ford Prefect, and soon the headlights were blinded by snowflakes and the wheels were slathering in the slurry of dying snowmen in deserted squares.  

It was an eerie, timeless experience.  I don't believe that anything similar has happened since, in London.....






Until, perhaps, now.... In a curious way, the Covid 19 blight has recreated the silence of those city streets.  I have not walked undeafened in London until now, and it is extraordinary.  This very morning I wandered across the Western centre of our greatest metropolis, and you could hear a bee buzz...





It is (almost) possible to breathe...






It is almost possible to pause and greet a passer-by without feeling it's all improper....





One could almost be enticed to catch a bus  on Regent Street (though there is the fear that that may not be all you would catch....)





And there is also the thought that you could pitch camp on the street and not really cause any harm...






Though the churches are closed, they still embrace wanderers in their porticoes....





And for those with access to wheels, it's a free paradise at the moment...








But, though you may have to crane your neck for them, there are signs that all is not well.  It's a sic-fi world.  Butterflies were trampled years ago for this....














I am about to reach out to this young woman to say beware, this road is dangerous.....  But before I make a fool of myself I see the emptiness around me, and remain a lonely cameraman....






Nearing the great pile of Gilbert Scott's St Pancras Hotel I am almost taken in by the shiny marble, but find that all is not what it seems....







And down the road I am brought back to Ralph McTell's new verse of his legendary hit Streets of London .

First recorded in 1969, the song at one point sold 90,000 copies a day and has been covered by more than 200 artists. It also won Ralph an Ivor Novello award for best song and continues to feature in folk music's "best of" playlists.

In March of this year Fergal Keane talked to his neighbour, and as a result Ralph added a verse to his career-defining hit song.

In shop doorways, under bridges, in all our towns and cities
You can glimpse the makeshift bedding from the corner of your eye
Remember what you're seeing barely hides a human being
We're all in this together, brother, sister, you and I.







Despite, or inspite of, the attempts of the gods of government, the city has lost its heart.  There are signs of life, but they are insipid, and there is no way they will pay the price of this virus.  






I know this will infuriate some, but at the Eurostar terminal things are quiet, and I cannot help but feel that this muffled disaster is like a suppurating wound hidden by the gangrenous bandage of Brexit.  





John Betjeman stands aloof on the first floor, a master of words, but a set of bones sticking through the flesh of the world he loved.  If he were here today, would he understand Dylan's Murder Most Foul?  Or would his attitude be that of amused and befuddled bystander where German Bombs were acceptable on Slough?






I have had enough of this heartless city.  I follow a cyclist down the escalator to happiness...






I wait upon the departure platform to hopefulness...






And then, on my walk home from the station I find traces of life that simply didn't make it....






In shop doorways, under bridges, in all our towns and cities
You can glimpse the makeshift bedding from the corner of your eye
Remember what you're seeing barely hides a human being
We're all in this together, brother, sister, you and I.

So how can you tell me you're lonely,
And say for you that the sun don't shine.
Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something to make you change your mind

Ralph McTell





It's strange that those we miss the most 
Are those we take for granted.

John Betjeman


14 June 2020

Meditations on a version of the lock down

EREMO DELLA S. CROCE 
FONTE AVELLANA



Fonte Avellana 


Many years ago, while living in Italy, I attempted to put together a book about Italian monasteries.  I travelled extensively throughout the country, photographing and researching many many religious establishments - some grand, and some very humble - and put together a proposal, with some sample work, for a literary agent.



La Verna 

And I was accepted by one, who tried to sell the idea to a number of publishers in the UK.  However, no one would take it up, and eventually the idea was dropped.




Pomposa 


Recent events have turned my thoughts again to the kind of lock down that is sometimes imposed on the inhabitants of monasteries - not only Christian ones of course - and I got to thinking about the way of life sustained within some walls.





Bobbio 

So here is a section of text from the original draft. Sometime around the mid eighties, I guess, I manoeuvred our Red Renault 4 (always in memory of Aldo Moro) up through Le Marche, and paused at Fonte Avellana.....

Beautiful spring weather; blue skies and catkins, the birds excitedly active, thinking that February is March, the meadows beginning to look green and flowery, when they should be carpeted in snow.  Monte Càtria rising before us, bare and dry at the head of the Cesano valley, Monte Acuto to the north with its green and useless ski-slopes.  

It is a beautiful wooded valley, winding steadily up beside the river.  Evidently, from the carefully tabled picnic spots, it is a popular place, probably crowded on summer weekends, but we don't see a soul, nor hear a car but for our own.  And then, appearing through the thickets above us, there is the silent white shape of the monastery, carved and arranged out of the clean limestone around.
                        
We are 680 metres above the sea here, and the air is clean as a whistle; cowbells and birds create the natural background to the ringing of the hours; the colours are light, and quiet.
                        
Fonte Avellana was originally (and until 1325) a hermitage, founded, some say, by S Romualdo in 980.  Other historians claim that the founder of this community was Bishop Ludolfo of Gubbio, and even the date is disputed, varying up to the year 1000, though the present occupants resolutely celebrated their millennium in 1980, inviting Pope Giovanni Paolo II to participate.  Unfortunately, the intervention of Alì Agcà in Piazza S Pietro delayed his arrival until September 5th 1982.  
                        
What is certain, historically, however, is that in 1035 S Pier Damiano arrived at Fonte Avellana, and he stayed to become not only the Abbot (from 1043 until his death - at Faenza - in 1072) but also an influential authority on monasticism.  He was said to be highly severe, and wrote a book called The Gomorrah Book that is about clerical misconduct, and he once ticked off a bishop for playing chess, but he also wrote hymns and treatises on many other subjects, and was enrolled among the doctors of the church in 1828 by Pope Leo XII without previously having been made a saint.  He was also made Cardinal archbishop of Ostia in 1057 by Pope Stephen IX, but it seems that this was much against his will, and that despite this, and several reforming journeys into France and Germany, Pier Damiano much preferred the silence and beauty of the hills to the business of more popular sites,

che pur con cibi di liquor d'ulivi
lievemente passava caldi e geli,
contento ne' pensier contemplativi.

(Dante, Paradiso XXI, lines 115-117; roughly translated this is, that with only food seasoned with olive oil, I comfortably passed through heat and cold, content in contemplative thoughts.)
                        
Dante himself visited this place in 1318 expressly to read the works of S Pier Damiano, and he then placed him in Paradiso, where Beatrice introduces his spirit, referring particularly to this locality in lines 106 to 120, part of which is now inscribed in stone on the facade of the church:

"Tra 'due liti d'Italia surgon sassi,
e non molto distanti a la tua patria,
tanto che 'troni assai suonan più bassi,
e fanno un gibbo che si chiama Catria,
di sotto al quale è consecrato un ermo,
che suole esser disposto a sola latria."

(NB 'un Gibbo'.....)

(XXI lines 106-111:  Between the two shores of Italy rise rocks, not too far from your native land, so high that thunder forms below them, and they make a hump that is called Càtria, beneath which is consecrated a hermitage which was once wholly given to worship.)
                        
These days academics, particularly from the Universities of Le Marche (as this region of Italy is known) come to stay and to study both these writers in the library, and other men (only men) are permitted to stay for spiritual retreat, joining fully in the life of the monastery.  Other groups are allowed to stay in the foresterie, on a self-sufficient basis, though even these are only allowed for prayer or retreat.
                        
The passing visitor is welcomed morning and afternoon (though not on Sunday or feast-day mornings) and is shown round by one of the ten Camaldolese monks (it has belonged officially to Camaldoli since 1570 - but please note this was written over thirty years ago: the numbers may well have changed).  

The tour includes the ancient scriptorium, a light, cold room with high windows and recently cleaned stone walls that dates from the twelfth century; the library, which has display cases of manuscripts copied here in early times (though most of the really important works have been removed to the Vatican library);  the dark, close, cloister;  the sala capitolare, and then the interesting and evocative crypt, which is the oldest part of the complex (from the tenth century).  Above this is the basilica, from the century after, which is dominated by a wooden crucifix from 1500.  
                        
To the right of the main altar you can reach a tiny modern (1975) chapel which is called the chapel of the Eucharist, and which our guide was obviously very taken with, referring to Beatrice and Dante and Paradise as he lit the throbbing lights behind the altar.  To my philistine mind this tiny gem is costume jewellery, cheap and nasty as coloured glass (though the altar is made of an extraordinary  hunk of stone, folded and crusty like flake chocolate,  worthy of a better setting), and it very nearly spoils the quietude and harmony of a very fine monastery;  but then I don't really understand modern spirituality, and maybe I am wrong, maybe it is the finest thing they have?  It is odd though that recent restoration has lifted all the baroque decorations from the church and the scriptorium (where it may even have been added to make the place slightly warmer) - I wonder how many centuries it will be before they strip out the twentieth century embellishments, to get back to the 'original' purity?
                        
Outside the monastery, by a tree-lined car-park of worrying proportions, there is a pleasant ristoro, or snack bar/souvenir shop, which just happened to open for us as the owner was delivering some hams to himself.  It is open more regularly at weekends and in the summer months, and it would be a good place to take refreshments before or after a good hike in the surrounding mountain pastures.  Apart from the usual trinketry, however, this place is notable because it stocks all the healthy products of the pharmacy of the mother house at Camaldoli, which includes their excellent, natural (i.e. not heated or treated in any way other than filtering) honey.





Camaldoli 



Leaving here, winding up over the hills towards the Via Flaminia, there are superb views back over the Hermitage and the surrounding hills, where there is no other sign of civilisation; just fading blue hills and silver-grey woods with just a sheen of green in the bright February sunlight.




La Verna 


In the 14th century the Hermitage was consecrated as an Abbey, but it was subsequently subjected to the practice of the grants 'in commendam,' which meant the granting of benefices or goods belonging to a monastery or an abbey to persons of high clerical and civil rank for the sole purpose of enriching them. 

Fonte Avellana remained 'in commendam' until almost the end of the 18th century and the Hermitage suffered deeply under the inevitable effects of this, so the decline of its monastic life was, though slow, inexorable. 

Then Napoleon, in 1810, and then the Italian State, in 1866, further suppressed the monastery.

However, Fonte Avellana continued to exist. Once again in the hands of the Camaldolese monks, it has rediscovered the austere beauty of its architecture as well as that faith and culture which have distinguished it since it was founded.

And so life continues 'in Lockdown' for the handful of individuals who choose to separate themselves from the mundane world of commerce and social interaction, preferring a life of interaction with their faith.....  

Beati Voi!

It may be some time before we are able to roam freely in Europe, but we can dream, in our version of Lock down, of such places of culture and tranquillity.

Long may they remain....