Tuesday December 3 2019

09:00 Lois and I tumble out of the shower cubicle and after breakfast I sit down with the computer to prepare a Hungarian vocabulary test, which I want my friend "Magyar" Mike to take at the start of our weekly "Hungarian hour" which kicks off her at 10 o clock.

Last night, Lois and I sat at the dinner table to pack our Christmas presents for Mike and his wife - "Magyar" Mary. We bought two boxes of beer for Mike and a potted plant and some Christmas trinkets for Mary. I'm just a little afraid that the weight of the beer boxes is so great that it will be the death of Mike if he tries to lug them out to his car, so I make a mental note to help him with it - my goodness!

10:00 Mike calls the door. We study Hungarian for an hour and at the end of the hour we exchange Christmas presents and I help him lug his boxes of beer out to the car and I stash them behind the driver's seat. And when he gets home, I urge him to lug the beer boxes one by one into his house - yikes! Let's hope he is still alive in January when we next meet up to speak Hungarian - my goodness!

Flashback to 2014: "Magyar" Mike in happier times:  from left to right

"Magyar" Mike, Lois, and "Magyar" Mary

Lois and I will open our gifts from Mike and Mary on Christmas Day. I know very well what my gift is - a bottle of gin, because Mike tried surreptitiously to ask me a question on the subject a couple of weeks ago. He asked me, in a kind of a "casual" way, what the difference was between "gin" and "dry gin ”. Ha! Your secret is out, Mike ha ha ha !!!!

12:00 We have lunch and afterwards I go to bed and take a gigantic afternoon nap. Meanwhile, Lois settles down on the couch to watch the first of this afternoon's two sentimental American Christmas films, "A Very Country Christmas."

15:00 The film ends and Lois steps out onto the street to sneak in at the neighbours two doors away, Stephen and Frances’s house - they have asked us to look after their house in their absence, while they spend 2-3 days with their daughter Elizabeth in Eastbourne.

Our neighbours, Stephen ...

... and Frances (far right) - both Stephen and Frances

are staunch members of the local Anglican Church

Lois is just wanting to pick up their mail from the floor of their porch and stash the letters in their entrance hall, but she discovers a problem with the handle on the door to their front porch - the handle just comes off in her hand, damn it!

She's worried that Stephen and Frances won't be able to get into their house when they come back from Eastbourne late tonight, probably after Lois and I have gone to bed - they're not morning people like us, to put it mildly. Yikes!

I am still asleep under the duvet, so Lois bursts into the bedroom to wake me up and pull me out of bed. Stephen and Frances have left a list of their contact details, but we find that both of their mobiles are switched off for some reason – my god, pure madness !!!

We call their son Andrew - we suspect he's at work. But his mobile is switched off too – good grief, pure madness (again) !!! Fortunately, I think of trying his landline phone, and I find that he is working from home today, which is a bit of a relief. I ask him if his parents can get in through the back door to their house, but he suspects they don't have the key with them - damn it!

Fortunately, Andrew says he can drive by with his toolbox in a few minutes - and he manages to remove the entire handle plate and its mechanism, and "break in" into the porch. So at least his parents will have a bed for the night ha ha ha!

Why do all these dramas with their tumble-down house happen on our watch ha ha ha ?? !!!!!

But the whole saga is a bit of a "blessing in disguise" for me - it makes me consider our own habits when it comes to keys. I check to see if I have the keys to our 2 back doors on my key-ring and we decide to stop bolting the door to our house's side passage from behind, but just use the padlock hanging on the front of the door - that way we will always have access to the house through the backyard and then through one or the other of the 2 back doors, if we discover a problem with our front door - “simples” !!!!!

17:30 We have dinner a little earlier than usual, because afterwards we have to leave. Lois wants to attend her sect's weekly Bible seminar, taking place tonight in Brockworth library. She has back problems at the moment and she has asked me to drive her over to her friend Mari-Ann's house. Mari-Ann will drive her over to Brockworth, where both women will attend the seminar.

a photo taken at a recent session of the sect's weekly Bible seminar:

Lois is sitting at the far right and her friend Mari-Ann at the far left

19:00 I get home again. I have some alone time and spend the evening watching some television, last week's episode of stand-up comedian Harry Hill's hilarious "Clubnite" series (final part of 6).

Harry grew up in the 1970’s, so he is often nostalgic for those good old days, but without getting too maudlin or sentimental, which is nice. And tonight he reminds us how much tougher we all were in the 1970's.

They were completely different times, he says. There was no "hashtag metoo", it was just "Me too?", which just meant, "Yes please! How can I get involved? That's exactly what I want! "

Every village had its own flasher. You knew where he lived and you just walked a little faster when you walked past his house – “Was that really so difficult? “, he asks. There was also the village “heavy breather”, and Harry also reminds us of the traditional British art of stealing panties from some woman's clothes-line - an art now sadly disappearing, thanks to the invention of the tumble-dryer.

And in the 1970’s, there were no such things as soft-play areas. Children's swings were built on the hardest surface known to man - i.e. concrete. If you fell off a swing, you cracked your head open – you didn’t just crack it, you cracked it open, and people could see the workings inside. Every child in the 1970’s knew at least one other kid who had cracked his head open.

Yes, we were tougher in the 1970’s, and less emotional, he emphasises. No one laid a bouquet of flowers by the roadside where there had been a fatal car accident. Because in the 1970’s, all car accidents were fatal. No one ever walked away from a car accident - they went out through the windscreen because no one was wearing a seat belt. You sat in the front seat on your grandma's  lap - five children in the back seat, and another loose in the boot. Yes, and grandma and all the kids in the car were smoking cigarettes - "Got a light, Grandma?" happened every 5 minutes. We all used to smoke cigarettes because we liked the taste, the smell, and the colour it made our fingers go.

In the 1970’s there was no "ageing population". People in the 1970’s had the decency to drop dead soon after they retired. They didn’t hang around to become a burden. Sixty-seven was a good age for a man, a little older for a woman. No one lived to be 100. The Queen brought in the birthday telegram system, where she sent a telegram to anyone about to turn 100. She never suspected that she would now be spending the majority of each day writing them out ("happy birthday, you! ”) and sending them off – my goodness: poor Queen!

In the 1970’s, there were no cures for anything. If you got sick, you died. And people always had the same doctor - there weren't any medical centres, with dozens of doctors in them. You knew your doctor, and you respected him, even if you knew at least 3 people he had killed by mistake.

My god - Harry's quite right there. Those were the good old days !!!

22:00 Lois comes back from Brockworth. I go to bed, but Lois needs to relax and wind down after tonight's stimulating Bible seminar, so she decides to watch some television. She finally jumps up into bed with me at 10:30 pm. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz !!!!

Danish translation: tirsdag den 3. decembre 2019

09:00 Lois og jeg vælter ud af brusekabinen og efter morgenmad sætter jeg med computeren for at udarbejde en ungarsk ordforrådtest, som jeg vil have min ven ”Magyar” Mike til at tage, i begyndelsen af vores ugentlige ”ungarske time”, der starter kl 10.

I går aftes sad Lois og jeg ved spisebordet for at pakke vores julegaver til ham og ”Magyar” Mary, Mikes kone, ind. Vi har købt to kasser med øl til Mike og en potteplante og nogle julenips til Mary. Jeg er bare lidt bange for, at vægten af ølkasserne er så stor, at Mike vil tage sin død derover, hvis han prøver at slæbe dem ud til sin bil, så skriver jeg mig bag øret, at jeg må hjælpe ham med det – du godeste!

10:00 Mike ringer til døren. Vi studerer ungarsk i en time, og ved slutningen af timen udveksler vi julegaver og jeg hjælper ham med at slæbe hans kasser med øl ud til bilen og glemme dem bagved førersædet. Og jeg opfordrer ham at slæbe ølkasserne én efter én ind i sit hus – yikes! Lad os håbe på, at han stadig er i live i januar, når vi næst mødes for at tale ungarsk – du godeste!

Tilbage til 2014: ”Magyar” Mike i lykkeligere tider: fra venstre til højre

”Magyar” Mike, Lois, og ”Magyar” Mary

Lois og jeg vil åbne vores gaverne fra Mike og Mary på juledag. Jeg ved godt, hvad min gave er – en flaske gin, fordi Mike prøvede at stille mig et spørgsmål om emnet for et par uger siden, da han spurgte mig på en slags "afslappet" måde, hvad forskellen var mellem ”gin” og ”tør gin”. Ha! Din hemmelighed er ud , Mike ha ha ha!!!!

12:00 Vi spiser frokost og bagefter går jeg i seng for at tage en gigantisk eftermiddagslur. I mellemtiden sætter Lois sig til rette i sofaen for at se den første af eftermiddagens to sentimentale amerikanske julefilm, ”A Very Country Christmas”.

15:00 Filmen slutter og Lois træder ud på gaden for at smutte ind hos naboerne to døre væk, Stephen og Frances – de har bedt os om at passe på deres hus i deres fravær. De tilbringer 2-3 dage hos deres datter Elizabeth i Eastbourne.

Stephen...

...og Frances (yderst til højre) – både Stephen og Frances

er trofaste medlemmer af den lokale anglikanske kirke

Lois ønsker at samle deres post op fra gulvet af vindfanget og gemme brevene i entréen, men hun opdager et problem med håndtag på døren til det vindfang, der står foran hoveddøren  - håndtaget går af i hendes hånd. Pokkers!

Hun er bekymret over, at Stephen og Frances ikke vil kunne komme ind i huset, da de kommer tilbage fra Eastbourne sent i aften, sandsynligvis efter Lois og jeg er gået i seng – de er ikke morgenmennesker som os, for at sige mildt. Yikes!

Jeg ligger stadig og sover under dynen. Lois braser ind i soveværelset for at vække mig og trække mig ud af sengen. Stephen og Frances har efterladt en liste over deres kontaktedetaljer, men vi opdager, at begge deres mobiler er slukkede af en eller anden grund – du godeste, rent vanvid!!!

Vi ringer til deres søn Andrew – vi formoder, at han er på arbejde. Men hans mobil er også slukket – du godeste, sikke et vanvid (igen)!!! Heldigvis finder jeg på at prøve hans fastnettelefon, og opdager, at han arbejder hjemmefra i dag, hvilket er lidt af en lettelse. Jeg spørger ham, om hans forældre kan bruge husets bagdør, men han mistænker, de ikke har nøglen med sig – pokkers!

Heldigvis siger Andrew, at han kan køre forbi med sin redskabskasse om et par minutter – og det lykkes ham at fjerne hele håndtagsplade og dens mekanisme og ”bryde ind” i vindfanget. Så i det mindste kan  hans forældre have en seng til natten ha ha ha!

Hvorfor sker alle disse dramaer ved deres vakkelvorne hus på vores vagt ha ha ha??!!!!!

Men det hele er lidt ”lykke i ulykke” – hele sagaen får mig til at betragte vores egne vaner, når det kommer til nøgler. Jeg tjekker, om jeg har nøglerne til vores 2 bagdøre på min nøglering, og vi beslutter ikke længere at bolte lågen til vores hus’ sidegang bagfra, men bare at bruge hængelåsen på lågens forside – på den måde vil vi altid have adgang til huset gennem baghaven og så gennem den ene eller den anden bagdør, hvis vi opdager et problem med vores hoveddør – ”simples” !!!!!

17:30 Vi spiser aftensmad lidt tidligere, end normalt, fordi bagefter skal vi af sted. Lois ønsker at deltage i sin sekts ugentlige bibelseminar, der finder sted i aften i byen Brockworths bibliotek. Hun har rygproblemer i øjeblikket, og hun har bedt mig om at køre hende over til sin veninde Mari-Anns hus. Mari-Ann vil køre hende over til Brockworth, og begge kvinder vil deltage i seminaret.

et billede taget ved en nylig session af sektens ugentlige bibelseminar:

Lois sidder yderst til højre og Mari-Ann yderst til venstre

19:00 Jeg kommer hjem. Jeg har lidt alenetid og bruger aftenen på at se lidt fjernsyn, sidste uges afsnit af standup-komikeren Harry Hills morsomme ”Clubnite” serie (sidste del af 6).

Harry Hill voksede op i 1970’erne, og han er ofte nostalgisk over for de der gode gamle dage, men uden at blive rørstrømsk, hvilket er rart. I aften minder han os om, hvor meget skrappere vi alle var i 1970’erne.

De var helt anderledes tider, siger han. Der var ikke noget ”hashtag metoo”, det var kun ”Me too?”, hvilket bare var, ”Ja tak! Hvordan kan jeg bliver involveret? Det er netop det, jeg har lyst til!”

Hver landsby havde sin egen blotter. Du vidste, hvor han boede, og du gik lidt hurtigere, når du gik forbi hans hus – var det så svært?, spørger han. Der var også fyren, der trak vejret kraftigt over telefonen, og Harry minder os også om den traditionelle britiske kunst af at stjæle trusser af en eller anden kvindes tørresnor – en kunst nu forsvundet desværre, takket være opfindelsen af tørretumbleren.

Og i 1970’erne var der ikke noget som softplay-områder. Man byggede børnegynger på den hårdeste overflade kendt til menneskeheden – dvs konkret. Hvis du faldt af gyngen, knækkede du hovedet åbent – det var ikke at du bare knækkede det, du knækkede det åbent, så folk kunne se mekanismerne inde i det. Hvert barn i 1970’erne kendte mindst et andet barn, der havde knækket sit hoved åbent.

Ja, vi var skrappere i 1970’erne, og mindre følelsesladede, understreger han. Ingen lagde en buket blomster ved siden af vejen, hvor der havde været en dødelig bilulykke. Fordi i 1970’erne var alle bilulykker dødelige. Ingen nogensinde gik væk fra en bilulykke – de gik gennem forruden, fordi ingen bar sikkerhedsselen. Du sad i forsædet på din bedstemors skød – fem børn på bagsædet, og ét løst i bagagerummet. Ja, og alle børnene i bilen røg cigaretter – ”Kunne du give os lidt ild, bedstemor?” lød det hvert 5. minut. Vi plejede at ryge cigaretter, fordi vi kunne godt lide smagen, duften, og den farve, det gjorde vores fingre til at blive.

I 1970’erne var der ikke nogen ”ældende befolkning”. Folk i 1970’erne havde den ansændighed til at falde om død snart efter de gik på pension. De blev ikke til stede for at blive til en byrde. Syvogtres var en god alder for en mand, lidt ældre for en kvinde. Ingen levede til at være 100. Dronningen indledte det der telegramsystem, hvor hun sendte et telegram til alle dem, der var ved at fylde 100. Hun mistænkte aldrig, at hun nu ville bruger hovedparten af hver dag på at skrive dem (”tillykke med fødselsdagen!”) og sende dem af – du godeste: stakkels dronning!

I 1970’erne var der ikke nogle kure mod noget. Hvis du blev syg, døde du. Og folk havde altid den samme læge – der var ikke nogle lægehuse, med snesevis af læger derinde. Og du respekterede din læge, selvom du kendte mindst 3 mennersker, han havde dræbt ved en fejltagelse.

Du godeste – det har Harry ret i.  Lykkelige dage!!!

22:00 Lois kommer tilbage fra Brockworth. Jeg går i seng, men Lois trænger til at slappe af og geare ned efter aftenens stimulerende bibelseminar, så beslutter hun at se lidt fjernsyn. Til sidst hopper hun op i sengen til mig kl 22:30 .   Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!!