Tis a humid day and husband is rather ill. Whilst he sleeps the the worst of it and his medication away, I'll provide you with a taster of what has impinged on my fragile consciousness this week.
Baroque music on our "award winning" (not sure about that) national classical station, Radio 3, has really been getting on my nerves recently. Now given the choice, I'd spend my life in the Baroque, but there is something about modern recordings that really annoys me. Has anyone else noticed that they sound about as lively as if they'd been recorded for the holodeck of the Starship Enterprise? You want to smell wig powder, musty velvet, sweat and sawdust and all you get is a whiff of Glade plug-in air freshener. Some goon has been let loose with the digitiser and tried to make the music atmospheric. Baroque music at its best is raw, unsentimental and full of life, everything these recordings aren't.
Vascular dementia, double incontinence, burgeoning bed sores, hypertension, leg ulcers and much more, and that little old lady I love so much doesn't qualify for nursing care on the NHS. The system stinks. I'm going to fight this one. We had a lengthy meeting about her Care Plan earlier this week. It was horrid. I dared to mention that she had a great need for spiritual care and whilst they were sympathetic in an ignorant and politically correct kind of way, you could tell it wasn't going in...."Yes, but how critical are her spiritual needs to her health and recovery, is this a low, a medium of a high need?".......It is a critical need!!!!...."Yes but how does it aid her recovery?".....She isn't going to recover, she is dying, ah yes but you don't have anything to do with peoples souls do you....well you should...you can't dare to mention that she is dying because that would mean she needs palliative care and that costs money. Still, we had some precious moments praying with her, softly spoken prayers, but very beautiful and she mouthed along and made the sign of the cross. Problem is, the devil is lurking close by, it is never too late for him to torment a soul...keep praying, it is all we can do.
Cats, I'm not a cat lover, in fact I loathe them. More specifically, I loathe the pampered, dumb looking, over fed house cats that turn their owners into fur-worshiping brain dead cat slaves. Having said that, I'm developing a soft spot for the feline psychokiller that lives next door. I've watched it drag rabbits more than the cat's body weight across fields to eat. It seems to go for the larger prey, rats and rabbits. It is a master of its art and if it can keep the bunnies off our marigolds, it is OK by me.
N Korea. It is a mouse that roars, just remember that this mouse has the mange, halitosis and cancer, why are we pandering to its own sense of importance? Now my university text books on nuclear fission are not part of the official secrets act, and they do make it clear that whilst getting a lump of fissile nuclear material critical and explosive is not too difficult, doing it in a timed and controlled way from a warhead to explode in just the right way at just the right height above the ground is a far from trivial matter. What I'm trying to say is that an underground test, is not the same thing as having a working weapon of mass destruction. Portray the N. Koreans as a world superpower with the ability to frighten the US and some gink will make them a working weapon out of hatred for the US, they will be incapable of doing so themselves without outside help.
Is it me or are the Spring nights uncommonly light this year? We live fairly far south in England but a mile from the nearest street light and it never seems to be getting dark, full moon or no moon.
Cucumber sandwiches, leaf tea in bone china cups with saucers, are needed, time to put the kettle on.