I just drove all the way to the petrol station and back again. I had planned to drive to Maplin but that seemed over ambitious once I was on the road so I bought some Mentos at the petrol station( which I have now lost, I accused the cat of sitting on them but haven’t the heart to move him form his comfy spot) and came home. Tomorrow I have the dentist which is about the same distance and involves a long, if not entirely stress free, rest in a comfy chair in between drives, so I am confident of a waste less journey. Waste is in fact part of the problemo. Basically my guts are more like a short term very shoddily built crib for spring lambs at the moment. It is ironic given that my hospital stay was in part to dislodge the meteorite stuck up my arse that I now have the opposite problem. Fortunately my dentist is a friend and has seen my orifices in various states of decay (Scuse the pun) so yet another malfunction of the Newell life sustaining system will not be surprise.
I am writing this because my failure to get to Maplin means I cannot complete the communication system for the phone box. One of the last remaining structural jobs. I really do hope it will be finished by this weekend. So I am writing my Blog lying on my back with the fire lit in the company of the imoveable cat, willing eBay to deliver the parts by tomorrow. In terms of my project I have been significantly slowed down by my drug enduced state of euphoric delirium, my visits to the toilet, my reluctance to stand on anything higher than a low heeled slipper, my energy levels which necessitate a break about every 45 mins of about 45 mins, the fact that I cannot really stretch, turn, bend or perform any of my previous Olga Korbuts and that some of the remaining jobs are extremely unexciting and I keep hoping Maria or someone will do them. EG Cleaning 80 odd glass panes. But as the end is firmly in sight I am very proud of it. Once completed I will circulate photos for you all to collect and stick in the commemorative album I assume you are all assembling, together with a link to a webcam that shows a view from inside the box looking out. eg a screen of red framed steamed up dirty glass panes. I would love to wax lyrical about the technological achievements so far but I only know of two of my readers who would have any appreciation and they are both much cleverer than me and do this sort of thing in a weekend. I will say one thing however, the decision not to try to do everything wirelessly but instead to have 20 strands of copper cable traversing the flowerbeds was a good one . The one and only wireless component has not only been a nightmare necessitating a wireless signal the strength of Jodrell Bank but also the most expensive and least productive piece of technology, namely the IP Camera referred to above. How wonderfully reliable it is to send sounds and data through wires rather than fresh air particularly when the recipient is a cast iron box seemingly impervious to everything but the rain and wasps.
My obsession with my ‘Sistine Chapel’ means I have stopped almost everything other than essentials and as I say some of those have stopped of there own accord. I no longer read anything other than component catalogues or early GPO manuals. I have a classic called telephony from 1947 on order. I hope this will explain how the button a/b box worked. I don’t watch telly without my mind wandering and wondering whether one can transmit midi through CAT5 cable – very easy as it happens KENTON converter. The hens are left unpatted, I haven’t bought a lighter in months and even the car boot sale cannot lure me from my red temple.
That said the Corbyn Victory has been a source of genuine joy to me. Charlotte Church’s words said all I want say about the feeling of relief to hear a politician talking about the things that politicians should talk about. Namely things that help eradicate the obscene global inequalities we all seem to blithely accept while pottering with our historic phone boxes. I really hope labour don’t cock it up particularly as I have rejoined and it costs me £3.99 a month. I remain a convinced anarchist but proper socialism (like we have on offer now) seems like a sensible stepping stone toward a society where government is no longer necessary as a method of regulating power once power has been distributed evenly and fairly.
As you are all aware I can laze about putting the world to rights because I am not back at work mainly because of the driving issue. Fortunately I have begun the process of cutting back on the main sedating drugs for the last day or two and the pain has not come back. I have been told to do this slowly which is frustrating because you can probably tell I am getting fed up with not being able to get to Maplin. I am now pretty neurotic about falling over so I walk like a very old man who has lost a threepenny bit and is retracing his steps – very slowly and looking down. I must admit I do do feel really old, but again I think that is the effect of the drugs that deliberately induce geriactisim.
My lovely wife grows younger and more gorgeous everyday mirroring my gradual rot and decay. She has a lot to endure particularly her periodically slipped disc which gets slipped back in but means neither of us can risk lifting anything heavy or doing the twist as we so frequently used to. She has started directing Dido and Aeneas at the school aka “Made in Chelsea’ which I think is a fab idea as the piece is 50 minutes of yawning followed by 3 minute of total heartbreak and certainly needs an antidote to the sophomoric (not the intended word but I will leave it – wonder what it means) baroque la di dah. Her mum is pretty good but should be even better once she has her pacemaker fitted. The boys and the girl are all thriving. Avani starts her Masters course next week, George seems to be getting a lot of work and I think they may be planning to get a place of their own. They have come back from Italy confirmed Italophiles. Arthur has been experiencing London driving for the first time. I think he is a bit shell shocked but loves his new location in Lewisham, actually pretty near Greenwich park so a big step up from Stratford.