"The Phonebook"

My mother insisted on having a phone before she would move into their new house in 1944. With it came The Telephone Directory.

I've never lived in a house without a phone however I no longer use the housephone and few people phone me on it because they know it's easier to get me on my mobile phone.

I had my first mobile (cellphone) in 2000. It was originally a requirement of my work when I wanted to go and see my parents (in England) because I was involved in a case where I had to be in touch with my work. The unit was the size of an attache case and involved considerable embarrassment if one went somewhere for lunch and 'hid' it under one's chair. 

I have never been without a mobile phone since then. I still have the same number (with additions as the mobile networks expanded)  and I have been with Vodafone and its predecessor since the start.

Skype arrived in August 2003 and was groundbreaking. So far as I'm aware when it started it just allowed voice calls from PC to PC and little else. It went on to be an 'alternative' world phone service. I think Skype has now to all intents and purposes been discontinued.

I started writing this because British Telecom has just published the very last Phone Book. The first Telephone Directory published by BT which became an absolutely essential reference work in every house with a phone was in 1880. The irony is that now communications are worldwide and instant the PhoneBook has become an irrelevance. Why? Because more and more people are choosing not to be in the  directory and don't even have a 'telephone' relying solely on their mobile phone. In any case  landline phone numbers  available to search on one's computer or mobile phone.

Thank You NHS

So far this year has been unlike any I can recall. It's the first year since I started blogging that I've been away from Blogland so frequently.

I lost my younger brother. I still keep wanting to send him wee messages about things and have to remind myself that he's no longer around to answer them. 

This week my son, Gaz, had his fiftieth birthday. What!! 

When one gets to one's eightieth year life should, in theory, be slowing down. In practice it seems to me that it's speeding up instead. The date of my birth seems further and further away on a daily basis.

All of a sudden things that I thought nothing about like climbing up ladders and wandering around roofs checking them have become things to either avoid or think very carefully about because my sense of balance isn't what it was. 

My electric foldable bike has suddenly become too heavy and cumbersome to fold and put in the back of my car. Indeed my balance riding it had become rather problematic too. 

I've suddenly realised that I'm no longer the spring chicken that I once was. 

Don't get me wrong I'm neither complaining nor being maudling. I'm intensely proud of the fact that this body I inhabit and which, but for the then newly formed NHS would never have got past its teens, has served me well and is continuing so to do.

Despite having cancer since my diagnosis and operation in 1997 I am still being treated successfully. Every 4 months now I get my uretic stent renewed. 

I have 5 or 6 stents in my heart since a heart attack in 2000. 

I had a new knee eight years ago and it is so good I usually forget that it's not the original. 

All this makes me realise that despite the underfunding and apparent attempts to privatise it and all the unfortunate hundreds of thousands of people waiting for appointments and treatment there are still millions of us who have benefitted hugely and who are still here to say 'Thank You' to the 1948 Labour Government which had the courage to establish it.

I'm Back (Again).

I left the Island 13 days ago. I returned on the later ferry last night, had some supper and went to bed just after midnight. I slept well and dreamt that I was growing a hitherto unknown lily. I was up at 6.30 this morning and have spent the day unpacking, washing and ironing and checking the garden and, indeed, spending about three hours working in the garden because it was a reasonably pleasant afternoon.

My cancer review and bone scan both went well and my spell in Ayr Hospital went equally successfully. 

Once again I have nothing but praise for the staff at every level who look after those of us who need their services.

The next few days are going to be busy whilst I catch up and the first of my Spring visitors arrives on Friday. 

However, in my usually optimistic way, I hope to get some time in Blogland and catch up. What remains of this afternoon will be spent answering letters and writing emails until the time will come for a glass of wine and dinner.

'Bye for now.

PS You might find this Facebook post for a local community-run shop and café on the other side of the Island quite amusing.

Absence and A Funeral

As some of you will be aware I have been away for the last couple of weeks. I went down to England to attend the funeral of my younger brother known in Blogland as Scriptor Senex. but to me and many as CJ.  Most of you will have read my post of 27 January about his death.

I was fortunate in that my son took his vehicle (which I'm not insured to drive) and drove the 1000 miles there and back. There was a day, not so many years ago, when I drove from Lewis to Tuscany via England, France, Germany, Switzerland and Northern Italy and enjoyed it. Now I will be very happy if I never have to drive in England again. It's full of people and cars! They all seem to me to be in a hurry and to have very little patience. With apologies to all my Englandshire readers who, of course, are not included in that generalisation.

As is the case with many of my generation, we and our friends from school and university etc are scattered not just through Britain but all over the world. So it was comforting to know that there were people watching the ceremony via a video link who might be anywhere in the world. 

You can’t get to your 80th year without hearing quite a few eulogies. I’ve heard quite a few and I’ve written and delivered some as well. Nothing had ever been as difficult and as complex as trying to distill the vast amount of material that CJ, has provided in his 74 years.  

From his writing (which included amongst many other things two novels and 'The Urban Countryman's Notebook), art in various media, collecting, voluntary work, Postcrossing, and his voracious appetite for reading CJ was a very extraordinary person.

A lot of CJ's life was very serious from his physical condition to his work and many of his interests. However, he did have a humorous side and a flippant side.

One example that comes to mind was the fact that Jo had told him that she would never marry a man who wore pink socks. At the wedding meal speech CJ concluded by removing the black socks he was wearing to reveal a pair of bright pink socks underneath. 

To celebrate the various facets of CJ, Jo had him dressed for his final journey in his suit to show his serious side, a jazzy tie and purple multi coloured socks to show how way-out and off-beat he could be, and his walking boots to show his love of nature and the outdoors. 

Goodbye, CJ.