I find it hard to remember what the weather
was like when it is exceedingly bland. I remember
hoping that it might not be as dull as forecast,
and if I recall correctly there were a few brief,
rather hazy, sunny spells in the afternoon. Mostly
it was a grey day, and a rather cool one too. I
don't think the temperature went above 9° C, and a
lot of time it felt a fair bit less than that.
Today should be sunny, but I see far too
much cloud for that yet. There are a few short
sunny spells at the moment, but even the latest
forecast says the sun should be blazing from a
clear sky right now. Even the temperature forecast
seems to be over optimistic by about a single
degree right now. That may not sound much, but it
is damn chilly in my bathroom ! All we can do is
to hope that reality catches up with the forecast
above. Tomorrow is currently forecast to look like
the forecast for today - apart from starting even
colder. We might even catch a frost in the
morning. Oh well, at least it should stay dry.
Yesterday was a day where paranoia
about the Covid-19 epidemic was raised another
notch. It was the day that all pubs were ordered
to shut after last night's final boozing. I fear
that it will have a negative effect on the nations
health. Maybe by isolating people from each other
it might slow the spread of Covid-19, but it will
also badly effect the nations mental health - and
the mental health services have been under
considerable strain for countless years now.
Mental helath has been the Cinderella service of
the NHS for far too long.
The problem is that these rules sometime
seem to be set by those who deplore drinking while
sitting at home glugging their Chardonnay (or
whatever). They have this belief that the pub is a
means to just get blotto, but increasingly that is
only done by those who drink cheap cider in the
park. The pub is actually a vital support network
where fears and advice can be traded with people
who are close to you, and with all the scare
stories about Covid-19 now, some need a lot of
support or reassurance. Sometimes what little joy
there is to life has now been taken away from us.
I didn't really do much yesterday. I didn't
go out, and although I considered it, I didn't do
anything in the garden. Mostly I just sat around
getting fat. I fear to check my blood glucose
level at the moment. I know it is very high at the
moment because that little safety valve, a usually
inactive boil (that isn't actually a boil, but I
can't think of a better name for a small cavity
under the skin) on my inner thigh has stated
leaking blood again. If it were a big, infected
carbuncle it would be a prime medical indicator of
diabetes.
Fortunately this one never seems to be
painful, but can suddenly burst and be rather
messy. Curiously it is nothing but blood - at
least there is no obvious sign (or smell) of pus.
It probably needs minor surgery to open it up, and
pack the void with the stuff they use to wick the
blood, or other liquids out. The one that had this
treatment when I was first diagnosed as type 2
diabetic 20 years ago (plus or minus 5 years
- I can't remember the year off hand), and also a
small cyst on my back (just a common zit that got
out of control over a long period of time because
I couldn't reach it to squeeze it) have given no
trouble since they were properly treated. Proper
treatment seems unlikely now because the whole
health service is now only working on Covid-19
cases.
I was amazed at how much haranguing, mainly
form just one person, some people got for going
out and enjoying themselves for one last time last
night. I was judged selfish for just agreeing with
them, and saying I would have gone to it if the
gig was more local, and didn't feature music I get
little enjoyment from. Somehow it seems like the
world has gone topsy turvy when those who go out
are deemed selfish, but those who should not go
out because they are too vulnerable to the virus.
Surely it is the susceptible who need to isolate
themselves from the filthy public, but those few
are the the ones who, apparently, unselfishly want
to dictate to the majority.
I was shown some graphs that basically say
if nothing is done the amount of deaths
attributable to Covid-19 will peak at around 50 a
day towards the end of May, and will have fallen
to as little as half that by mid June. 50 deaths a
day sounds terrible unless you view it in
perspective. If only 50 people a day died from
anything in the whole of England, the undertakers
would soon go out of business. The figure is
meaningless without a comparison to the average
over years for that day. I am pretty sure that
deaths rise a lot in winter from many causes, and
the figures could be in the hundreds per day. By
summer the figure has dropped, but it is still
substantial.
Some say that 50 deaths is too many deaths,
but curiously enough those same people seem to be
those who have a strong belief system. I know this
to be so for just a few people I have heard
whingeing badly. These would those with strong
religious beliefs, and say that God controls
everything. Worse than that, they believe that
thoughts and prayers will protect them. They get
terribly indignant when their belief system seems
to have failed.
Then there are those who believe in a more
pastoral way of living - the druids and pagans
etc. They seem to forget that "back to nature"
puts you in the hands of nature who
(she/it/whatever) is very carefully practised at
killing off the old and the weak. In a similar way
there are those who recommend a "paleo diet" while
forgetting about paleo mortality.
No, the fact is we are all going to die,
and some will do it quicker than others. We can
still take sensible precautions, and possibly a
more effective one is to believe that all
motorists are homicidal maniacs, and make damn
sure you look left, right, and left again before
crossing the road. Meanwhile it is worth
remembering any of the multitude of variants of
"fear itself is the biggest killer". Eat, drink,
and be merry, because tomorrow we may die.
Before I am about to say I have an
extremely lazy day yesterday, I have to add the
aside that I did hand wash a fairly heavy double
duvet cover yesterday afternoon. It was heavy
going, and I did wimp out and take a breather
halfway through the rinsing sequence. Aside from
one big bath towel, it is about the worst thing I
have to hand wash.
I spent a lot of yesterday sitting at my PC
checking and editing suitable videos. Some where
awful quality. It has taken a long time to find
video cameras that can cope in less than studio
lighting. There was also the flipside that the
lighting in The Black Cat pub was sort of bright,
but it flickered and flashed so quickly while
cycling through colour changes at breakneck speed,
that it gave epileptic fit to most camcorders. It
wasn't until I tried my Nikon D3200 DSLR camera in
video mode that I occasionally got some fair video
in The Black Cat. The camera is pretty fair in low
light - particularly at low shutter speeds - which
is effectively is what video uses - and the white
balance is easily locked to give a better
rendition of the colours.
This video is of The
Belles playing in The Black Cat on 10th
September 2016. I have taken a guess that the
song title is "Lady Godiva" based upon the
lyrics, but now I seem to have an extremely
vague memory that it is the correct title.
I went to bed last night feeling quite
depressed. The idea of the pubs not re-opening
for many months, maybe even not until a year
has passed, is pretty depressing in itself,
but even more so when I consider that the only
time I have been able to see Angela, or indeed
anyone at all, is in a pub. I am hoping that I
will be able to see Angela in the park on
warmer days, but there is a lot of uncertainty
about it. Despite that I seemed to sleep quite
well. It was probably helped by the cold like
symptoms I have had recently seeming to be
fading away.
I recently found my clinical
thermometer while tidying up, and last night I
thought I would see if I had any sign of a
temperature. I do, but only in an unlikely
way. It was hard to get a snap of the mercury
in this thermometer, but I got one in the end
that clearly shows my temperature to be just a
hairs breadth under "normal". This might, or
might not suggest I have a slight fever. I
only say that because often my temperature
appears to be just under 98° F, and this is
showing 98.45° F (as near as I can interpolate
between the markings on the scale. I guess I
am really splitting hairs, although I did note
that my pulse rate was ever so slightly high
as well considering I was
supposed to be resting.
I also checked my blood pressure. The
pressure was absolutely fine, although against
medical advice, would actually prefer
the Systolic pressure more in the region of,
say, 120. It is the pulse rate that seems a
tiny bit high. I had an excuse for that when I
used my pulse oximeter yesterday - I dropped
it just as I was about to take a reading, and
I was worried I might have damaged it.
I guess I am feeling fairly well this
morning. After the creakiness and pains of
sleep had faded away I seem to be in fair
working order - all except my blood glucose. I
don't think I give a damn what anyone else may
say, I will be going out for a walk around the
park - maybe even two circles of it if the
mood takes me. I know I won't be able to get a
lunchtime pint, but I will probably pass the
pub to take a picture.
1
considering I was
supposed to be resting.