R.I.P.

I woke to shocking news.

A young man had taken his own life. He was 31. We had known him since he was two years old. 

He once lived just across the street from us with his parents, his older sister and his younger brother.

Many times he played in our garden and came to birthday parties. He was just a few months older than our Frances.

He didn't find much success at school and ended up working in our local Co-operative supermarket. If I saw him down there we would invariably have a little chat.

There was always an aura of sadness about him. It was as if he was living a life that he didn't really want - a life that would hardly do. He also had Type 1 Diabetes.

Four years ago he got married with small celebration. I was pleased that he had found someone to love him and maybe his new wife would help him to build a happy, worthwhile life. Sadly, it didn't work out. Unemployed and unhappy he ended up back at his parents' house. He was always troubled somehow.

His parents are lovely people - kind, generous and understanding - always proud of their three children. They supported him, cared for him - even when he played computer games all night long and got up after midday. They cancelled holidays and stayed home, concerned about what might happen to him. He had threatened suicide before. They had paid for counselling services and he was often at his local health centre.

But yesterday it happened. The little blonde haired boy who played in our garden has gone away. The troubles and the pain that he found in this life have suddenly evaporated. His parents will be distraught, almost broken in two. Shirley is round at their house now, listening, giving comfort. It was a hanging but I don't know the full details of his death. That doesn't matter too much. He has gone and he is never coming back.

As with any suicide, you wonder what might have been done to avoid the taking of that terrible path. You wonder where it all went wrong and you recall that at times like these people will often say - he is at peace now.

Yabadabadoo!

Some "Yorkshire Pudding" visitors know about my son's vegan journey. You have followed his progress with his "Bosh!" teammate Henry. Together they have come a long way. Three books in the bag, a prestigious "book of the year" award from Britain's booksellers, TV appearances, magazine articles and so on. They have been riding a vegan wave and now there's a new and very exciting development... 

The likely title of the TV show will be "Living on the Veg". Ian and Henry are busily filming ten episodes which will be screened on ITV on Sunday mornings quite early in the new year. Recipes will be demonstrated and there will be weekly celebrity guests.

Bringing vegan cookery to mainstream TV is quite amazing - almost incredible. Not so long ago vegans were seen as weirdo cranks who lived on lentil soup and wholemeal bread. Now it is becoming cool to be vegan. As Ian and Henry announce news of their breakthrough TV series. the BBC will be showing a documentary on Monday night entitled "Meat: A Threat To Our Planet". 

The new "Bosh!" healthy recipe book will be launched on Boxing Day in Great Britain. Go here.  The American launch date is January 28th 2020 - Go here.

Mandibles

Now living in England, Lionel Shriver is a gifted writer. She adopted her curious first name in the late sixties when she was a rebellious teenager in North Carolina. How could she be a tomboy with a name like Margaret?

I have now read four of Lionel Shriver's sixteen novels - finishing the last one yesterday afternoon. It was a five hundred page tome titled  "The Mandibles: A Family, 2029–2047". It is a profoundly frightening portrait of how quickly the agreed rules of society can fall apart without money to oil the wheels. 

It focuses upon a single family in our not too distant future. Once comfortable subscribers to the old American Dream, The Mandibles find themselves in threatening new world in which the economy of the USA  is in meltdown. The dollar becomes a worthless anachronism as other nations climb the ladder. Amusingly, even Mexico overtakes The States and they build a wall to keep out desperate immigrants from north of the border!

The American government becomes a vindictive organisation, suppressing its citizens while observing them like Big Brother in George Orwell's "1984" . As society crumbles, it is almost impossible for members of the Mandible family to experience the feeling of  freedom  any more. Life is all about survival now. As the writer says, “Real poverty is about doing what you have to do as opposed to what you want.”

Lionel Shriver had clearly researched the language and principles of modern economics in some depth and she employed this knowledge to improve the believability of her vision of a degraded and almost hopeless near future. However, some of the sidetracks into economics were out of my comfort zone and I struggled with them.

Nonetheless, this was an eerily convincing picture of a possible future world - just round the next bend.  But there were comedy moments too and some of the writing was consciously tongue-in-cheek. Ultimately, there is a fairly happy ending as the surviving members of the Mandible clan find sanctuary in the breakaway USN - United States of Nevada.

Lionel Shriver

Mudbath

Blake Mere - The Mermaid's Pool

In the past two weeks my walking activity has been greatly curtailed by wet weather. I was like a tiger in his cage pacing up and down, growling at  passers by in their sou'westers and galoshes. You can imagine how relieved I was when I learnt that dry weather and sunshine was predicted for Monday.

Triangulation pillar at Merryton Low

I planned a ten mile route in northern Staffordshire. Sensibly, this ramble would include six or seven miles on quiet tarmacked lanes - selected because of the amount of rain that has already fallen this month. I knew that there would be some very muddy paths and fields.

God it was good to be out there on a chilly but sunlit day. Naturally I had my trusty "Sony" bridge camera with me. I saw many wonderful things including a herd of wild roe deer. 

By three o'clock the light was already fading. I had just paid a call of nature behind an old stone barn. Rather than retracing my steps, I decided to advance along the adjacent field boundary hoping to spot a way through the fence and then get back on the road.

Big mistake. I found myself in a marshy area with large grassy clumps and evidence of churning by cattle. I hopped nimbly from grassy clump to grassy clump hoping to keep my boots dry. And then I lost my footing. Not only were both feet suddenly shin deep in muddy water with the boots inundated but I fell over like a clown. Good job there were no blog commenters watching from the fence. They would have been killing themselves with laughter

Royal Mail van near Round Knowl

Soon after the catastrophe in the cow field , I got through the fence - back onto the quiet country road. Two or three vehicles and a cyclist passed by - probably fearful of The Beast from the Swamp who was walking back to the village of Warslow in setting November sunlight - leaving a  trail of mud behind him.

Fortunately there was a spare pair of socks in Clint's capacious boot (American: trunk).

Big Fernyford Farm

Comment

Yesterday's blogpost, "Complacency" attracted some thoughtful comments. I think the words I wrote struck a chord with several readers. To tell you the truth, it was an odd post to write. Admitting vulnerability is never easy. In western culture, the default position is usually that glib "I'm fine thank you". We have all said it.

The longest and perhaps most fully considered response came from Adele. Adele lives on New Zealand's South Island - somewhere in the vicinity of Christchurch. She is not to be confused with the multi-million album selling singer-songwriter Adele who comes from North London.

A little diversion at this point. Back in January 2012, Shirley and I visited the Christchurch region. We stayed in a small village called Little River not marked on the map above and afterwards we travelled over Arthur's Pass to the west coast, stopping for hot pies in the village of Sheffield - also not marked on the map. That small rural community was named after this very Yorkshire city. To look back go here .

Anyway, returning to Adele's comment on "Complacency", I couldn't just let it slide away without sharing it properly with other readers. It seemed too good for that so here it is:-

Being aware of your comfortable situation and gratitude for the opportunities it gives you are your defence against complacency.

Good health and loving relationships usually require some sacrifice. The things we do or don't do, say or don't say, food we eat or don't eat and exercise we do or don't take - all of these have an impact on where we finish up.

We all struggle with the concept of our own death, when and how will it happen? As I hope my own will be sudden and painless (for me and my nearest and dearest), I try and enjoy each day I am gifted (whatever the weather),keep on good terms with my children and nurture my friends so there will be no regrets over things not said like " I love you".

The Christchurch earthquakes in 2010 and 2011 made us all too aware of how suddenly life can change and how little control we have over the earth we live on. A house can be rebuilt but a life lost is lost forever. Many people have since chosen simpler lives, valuing relationships and experiences above material things. We needed our neighbours for help and support.

After 46 years at work I have a small state pension each fortnight, savings and a younger husband still working. We still live on a budget. We can cover our bills and still save for his eventual retirement. I have a large home library, a stash of knitting wool, recipes as yet untried and a garden to work in and enjoy. I am never bored. We have survived good and bad times in our 40 years together - several recessions and redundancies, worked multiple jobs, economised and made things last,and raised two girls to be good, kind, hardworking people. I mostly shop in Charity shops - giving and receiving - and support overseas schools in the Pacific Islands. Education is the gift that keeps on giving.

I can no longer streak down the basketball and netball courts and my tennis days are over but there is still the joy of the Council swimming pool for exercise after a day in the garden or a walk. I carry a book on any journey so I never mind waiting and I'm always learning. I'm no longer keeping anything for best, there is no dress rehearsal, today is all we have. We use the 2nd hand crystal and china everyday as the food and drink taste better.

Most of all I don't WORRY! I leave that to my husband. I am half full, he is half empty.

Your posts always make me think and laugh. Keep up those walks, enjoy the fruit of your labours and your loins, live kindly and keep on sharing your life with the world. We've all worked hard for the freedom retirement brings. 

Let's enjoy it! 

Arohanui 

Adele

Complacency

"Complacency is a continuous struggle that we all have to fight" - Jack Nicklaus

The years keep trundling by. Each day is like one silent tick from an invisible clock. Onward we go.

Have you been lucky?  I know that I have been lucky. For a man in his mid-sixties I am in good health. I have no disabilties or significant health issues. I don't do drugs and I am not an alcoholic. Though I may not run any more, I can walk for miles. My faculties have not failed me.

There's a good woman by my side and we have two grown-up children to be proud of - good people just like us. Some men of my age can only dream of such treasures. In their lives, that particular boat may have sailed away long ago.

Though I have retired from paid work, I have two pensions and monthly income from a house we rent out. We are not rich, not by a long way, but we are comfortable. We rarely worry about bills or money. If we want a fly-drive holiday over in Montana and Wyoming we can do it or a new car or a replacement television. No problem.

And yet, and yet I can hear the music of complacency in the background. What if? What if?

Death or disability could come early. Hearts fail and there are strokes or brain tumours. Diabetes or cancer. These things happen to people. People just like me. Possibly just round the corner. How would life be then?

In contrast, I could become old and frail. Me and 85. The two don't seem right together but it could happen. How would I cope? I might need personal care or residential care. How would I fund it? How would I cope?

I admit that I am guilty. Guilty of  complacency. Perhaps deep down I imagine that this relatively untroubled, reasonably happy existence will just keep trundling along. Good health and money in the bank forevermore. But as others have discovered - often from painful experience, the apple cart can so easily be overturned. And if that day should arrive, I will doubtless look back rather enviously upon the days I am living in right now.

Skullduggery

Keira Knightley and Katharine Gun

Another rainy Thursday sees your intrepid reporter riding upon a number 88 bus into the centre of Sheffield to visit The Showroom. I was attending an early afternoon screening of "Official Secrets" starring Keira Knightley as Katharine Gun.

You might  call the film a docudrama because it is based upon a true story set in the years 2003 and 2004. You may remember that in those years George W. Bush, faithfully supported by Tony Blair, waged war upon Iraq. They said that there were Weapons of Mass Destruction but there weren't. It was a hoax, arguably a spiteful pretext for taking a twisted form of revenge upon the  Arabic speaking world for 9/11.

In south west England, near Cheltenham, you will find the beating heart of Great Britain's  leading intelligence organisation - Government Communications Headquarters or GCHQ. This secret service employs around 6000 people and behind the scenes they monitor international political issues and threats to our democracy.

Back in 2003 one of these minions was a bright young linguist called Katharine Gun. Most of her spying activity was quite humdrum but one day she came across a shocking message that she could not ignore. It concerned The United Nations and how America planned to bug the offices of Angola, Bulgaria, Cameroon, Chile, Guinea, and Pakistan in order to bring pressure upon these "swing" nations to get behind Bush and Blair's planned military invasion of Iraq.

Katharine Gun immediately foresaw the terrible implications of  that secret missive. It was at a time when there were mass demonstrations against a possible war. For example, London hosted the biggest anti-war protest march that  this country has ever seen.

Though she knew she was breaking The Official Secrets Act, Mrs Gun bravely passed the message on and before the invasion had properly commenced a shattering headline story appeared in "The Observer" newspaper - based upon her revelation: "Revealed: US Dirty Tricks to Win Vote on Iraq War" (March 3rd 2003).

She was arrested and eventually brought to court but the case was dropped by the British government as the trial would have incriminated several members of the political establishment. By this time the war in Iraq was in full swing. It was a war that killed far more than 100,000 Iraqi citizens and almost 5,000 invading military personnel from the so-called "coalition" - mostly Americans.

I found "Official Secrets" to be gripping and convincing. Keira Knightley played her role superbly and there were excellent support performances from Matt Smith as "Observer" reporter Martin Bright and Ralph Feinnes as defending lawyer Ben Emmerson.

This wasn't some spy story churned out of an over-fertile author's imagination. It was a portrait of something real that happened not so long ago, something quite chilling and disturbing. Bush and Blair have a lot to answer for though they are still free men, still clinging to their fakery. The bottom line is that there really were no WMD's. It was all a terrible lie that killed so many innocent people and for what? What did that tragic, pointless war achieve?