Wednesday November 17th 2021

08:00 Lois and I have to rush out of bed again. Our friend Fran, one of Lois's fellow-sect-members, is coming at 11 am for a cup of coffee and a rock cake, and I have to vacuum and move some more clutter from one room to another. What madness!

our surprisingly tidy and clutter-free living-room

as it looks at around 10 am today after considerable work on our part

Lois cleans the downstairs toilet and does a lot of dusting. 

10:40 Fran rings to say she's overslept, and can we make it Friday instead? That's really annoying, because it means that a lot of the cleaning and tidying that Lois and I have done this morning will just have to be repeated on Friday.

11:00 We decide to go out for our usual walk round the local football field. It's been a bit of a sad day today, especially for Lois, and she needs cheering up. Another sect-member, June, who's in her 80's, has just died, we hear today from her daughter Rebecca. And Edna, who joins in the sect's Tuesday bible seminars, has left a weepy message on our answerphone, where she says that she's been told she's too poorly now ever to be able to go back to her own house, which she loves so much. Oh dear.

We go round the field, talking to some of the various dog-walkers (or "dog-airers" ("hundeluftere") as the Danes say) - we're getting to know them all quite well, both owners and dogs. We can recognise the owners from a great distance simply by looking at their dogs, which is nice.

a typical Danish "hundelufter" (dog-airer)

The Danes even have a beer called a "Dog-Airer Beer" 

(Hundelufter Bajer) which is a nice idea

We stop at the Whiskers Coffee Stand by the Parish Council Offices, and have a coffee and a chocolate bar, as usual. Today we select the so-called "Pirie Bench" to sit on - it's named after a deceased but once-locally-famous ex-Parish Councillor.

12:30 We get home and I text Sarah, our daughter who lives in Perth, Australia, with Francis and their 8-year-old twins Lily and Jessie. At Sarah's request, we set up an arrangement 10 days ago that we would speak to her every Wednesday lunchtime (UK time) on whatsapp, but on the two Wednesdays we've had so far, she has forgotten all about it! We arrange to talk to her on Friday instead.

Quiet - Colin is talking!

Yes, talking to our daughter Sarah and our 8-year-old 

twin granddaughters, Lily (left) and Jessie

We sympathise with Sarah, however, because she's got a lot on her plate at the moment. One of the twins, Jessie, has caught chicken-pox from one of her classmates at the local primary school. Poor Jessie. Luckily children have the opportunity to be vaccinated against it in Australia, so Jessie's case isn't such a bad case as it might have been. I don't believe we vaccinate children against chicken-pox in the UK.

It's not our day for arrangements, though, is it! Both Fran and Sarah have cancelled. And now Ross, our carpet-cleaner, rings up to say he wants to come half an hour earlier on Friday morning, because he's been given a lunchtime appointment for a coronavirus booster jab, and he wants to make sure he finishes our carpets in good time.

What a crazy world we live in !!!!!!!

a typical carpet-cleaner (not Ross)

14:00 Nothing for us to do but go to bed for a nap. But before we start our nap I look at my smartphone and order another T-shirt (or "T-ing" as they say in Hungary). The shirt is in the "Keep Calm" tradition, but with a twist.

I like the main part of the slogan - I can't keep calm, I'm Hungarian. 

It's a pity that at the very bottom of the shirt there's a rather rude expression actually in Hungarian, but I'm assuming that knowledge of Hungarian is fairly limited in this neighbourhood. If people ask me what it means, I'm planning to say it's a message of support to "Meg" - ie Meghan Markle, the Duchess of Sussex, and I think I can probably get away with that.

Later, I see a message from Steve, my American brother-in-law, who sends me news of the latest "T-ing" fads Stateside.

What choice - there's something for everybody over there, no doubt about that!

I wish we had more choice in the UK. But sadly, T-ings here ain't what they used to be, that's for sure!

20:00 Lois disappears into the dining-room to take part in her sect's weekly Bible Class on zoom. I settle down in the living-room and watch another old episode of the 1990's sitcom "The Brittas Empire", which is all about Whitbury New Town Sports and Leisure Centre and its well-meaning but unpopular manager, Gordon Brittas.

Synopsis of episode: Brittas' cold feet continue on his final day before leaving for his new job in Brussels, particularly as negotiation difficulties arise between the EU member states. 

A newly-installed water tank is overfilled and starts falling through the centre's floors. Carole is stuck in Ben's miniature car in reception--the tank's final destination. 

Brittas saves Carole at the last moment, seemingly being killed. He ascends to heaven, but is sent back to earth. Just after he is lowered into the ground in his coffin, he knocks on the inside of it and speaks.

Another confusing episode, which I think nobody, apart from the writers, fully understands, so I feel it's my duty to unravel as much of it as I can - I won't get the full story out, it's true, but it's a start: and others can build on my preliminary ideas over future centuries. At least that's all I can hope!

The main underlying theme is that it's manager Gordon Brittas's last day at the leisure centre - he's due to fly out to Brussels the next day to become the EU's Commissioner for Leisure. But there's a hold-up: at the last minute the Germans have cut their contribution to funding Brittas's department by £20,000,

Gordon has given the Germans an ultimatum: they must agree, by 12 noon, to fund his department in full - if they do not, he's not going to take the job. And Gordon gets scabrous, pock-ridden Deputy Manager Colin to rig up a tannoy system to broadcast a speech to the entire Leisure Centre at 12 noon, to announce his decision.

Deputy Manager Colin sets up a tannoy system to broadcast

manager Gordon Brittas's speech to the Leisure Centre at 12 noon

Brittas reads his prepared speech.

We hear part of Brittas's speech in this episode;

"Yesterday I delivered an ultimatum to the Germans that if I did not have an official assurance by 12 noon today, a spirit of friendship and cooperation would no longer exist between us, making me unable to accept my new position.

"I have to tell you now that no such assurance has been received, and therefore I am standing down as Commissioner for Leisure."

It's a bit ironic, perhaps, that Brittas's words bear a striking resemblance to Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain's words in his radio speech in September 1939, declaring war on Germany after their refusal to withdraw their troops from Poland. Is this a coincidence? Or were Chamberlain's words hidden deep in Brittas's subconscious, leading him to echo them here on his final day? I don't know, but perhaps we should be told, and quickly!

Are there faint echoes of Chamberlain in Brittas's latest speech? -

I don't know but I think we should be told!

Unfortunately Brittas's speech is overshadowed by yet another major disaster at the Leisure Centre. He's asked gay staff-members Gavin and Tim to fill up a tank in the Centre's attic with water, as an emergency resource in case of a major fire and a breakdown in water supplies. 

The tank is in a bad place because it's exactly above the Reception Desk area, where the walls and ceilings have in any case been weakened: the problem is that weepy receptionist Carole persuaded a retiree from the Centre's seniors' swimming class to "knock through" the back of the reception desk area to provide larger playing space for her 3 children, who live in drawers and cupboards behind her desk.

weepy receptionist Carole (left) takes Deputy Manager Laura

behind her reception desk to show her her children's new play-room

Laura is worried, however, that the walls and ceilings are no longer safe.

Meanwhile, up in the Centre's attic, gay staff members Tim and Gavin are busy filling up a huge water tank when the floor gives way, and the tank slowly makes its way through the ceilings of two separate floors, heading down, floor by floor, in the general direction of the Ground Floor Reception Desk.

the huge water tank makes its way downwards floor by floor

crashing through ceilings and crushing staff and visitors alike

When the tank finally begins falling through to the Reception Desk area on the ground floor, it looks certain to crush weepy receptionist Carole, and would surely have done so, but for the heroism of Brittas himself, who pushes aside the toy car she has got herself wedged inside. Sadly Brittas himself is completely crushed, however.

As the water-tank comes through the ceiling down to the Centre's

ground floor, Brittas heroically pushes Carole's toy car out of danger...

... only to be crushed himself. Poor Brittas !!!!!!

Brittas is killed, and in some moving scenes, we see him approaching the Pearly Gates, where St Peter asks an aide whether they should let Brittas in or not. In the celestial pair of scales, there are a lot of black balls on the "Anti" side, representing all the accidental deaths and serious injuries that have occurred in the Leisure Centre during Brittas's tenure of management. But luckily they are outweighed by one big white ball on the "Pro" side, representing Brittas's act of heroism in giving his life to save Carole today.

After a few hours, however, Brittas has succeeded in annoying both staff and residents of the Celestial Paradise to such a degree that they decide to return him to Earth, which is nice.

Brittas approaches the Pearly Gates and meets St Peter (centre)

luckily Brittas's heroism today (white ball) outweighs

all the serious accidental deaths and injuries he's been responsible for (black balls)

Brittas enters Paradise

after a few hours of Brittas going around Paradise with a clipboard, trying to 

sign up angels for his 7-a-side soccer tournament,

St Peter decides that they will have to "let Brittas go",

and he returns to earth.

The episode ends with further touching scenes at the cemetery, where Brittas's coffin is lowered into his grave, only for "knocking noises" to be heard coming from inside the coffin. 

this is the moment that "knocking noises" are heard coming from 

inside the coffin.

So, in general, a pretty "upbeat" ending, which is nice!

21:15 Lois emerges from her zoom session but we decide to make an early night of it. We've got to be up early tomorrow for Ross the Carpet-Cleaner - yikes!

Zzzzzzzzzz!!!!