Dear reader, especially the older ones among you - have you sometimes been labelled "deaf" or "hard of hearing", I wonder?
It's something that's been bothering Lois, my wife of 52 years, lately, who suffers from mild hearing loss. We've got by, so far, by me shouting at her with a compensating, attempted "I sound angry, but I'm not angry, honest!" expression on my face, like this woman....
However Lois knows that I'm not a "shouty" person by inclination, and I think in the end this is why, for my sake, she decided to take pity on me and go for a hearing aid, especially as the price was right - free of charge on the NHS, and fitted free of charge by the local branch of optical chain Specsavers. How brilliant is that haha!!!!
It's a bit of a last resort in a way. We've read about the recent modern developments in alarm clocks but we decided not to take that route in the end. Have you tried them out, you know, like the Sentinel 450 and all that kind of malarkey? Several of our friends have installed one, I believe.
The alarm clock, developed by Metuchen-based Integrated Products, uses a flashing strobe light to wake hearing-impaired sleepers, rendering obsolete previous models utilizing a mechanical arm to pound the sleeper's cranium with a club hammer.
"Rise and shine in an delightfully new, painless way," trumpets the brochure for the Sentinel 450, expected to hit store shelves in early January.
"Now you can be on time for work without all the debilitating concussions, cranial fractures and costly reconstructive facial surgery."
Well, good luck to you if you've got a Sentinel 450 - but they don't come cheap do they! Be honest! So we're going down the "cheapo" NHS route, and at 9:30 am I find I'm again sitting in the local Specsavers' "waiting area" with a bunch of old codgers.
It all seems vaguely familiar, and I'm not sure why.
[That's because you were here two weeks ago, for Lois's hearing test, you noggin! - Ed]
[Oh yes! - Colin]
Once again, I'm fortunate enough to get the last available seat in the "waiting area", right at the foot of the stairs up to the "fitting rooms", so I can wave to Lois just like last time, and just like tragic Indian brave Running Bear used to wave to his beloved Indian maiden, Little White Dove, sitting on the other side of that famous "raging river".
Flashback to 2 weeks ago: Lois (ringed), at the top
of the "world's longest staircase", waiting to be
called in for her hearing test, while I sit in
the "waiting area" looking at my phone and taking a selfie
The Specsavers staircase to the upper level has been called "the longest staircase in the world", although only by me, I think. Just like they always used to say that the Straits of Dover, between Dover and Calais, were "the longest 18 miles in the world". I think it's something to do with relativity theory, but don't ask me for chapter and verse on that one, I'm no expert, to put it mildly!!
Lois coming down the stairs today, with her
new hearing aids installed - but they're SO discreet.
Bet you can't spot them !!!!!
I thought that Lois would now just be the same as before, except that I wouldn't have to be "shouty" with her any more. However, it's not as simple as that, and she reports to me some of the weird effects that she's experiencing, as I drive us both home and relax on the couch with a coffee.
The first thing she says is that her own voice sounds to her like "she's a voice on the radio". And everywhere seems suddenly noisy. Also, for instance she can't stop listening to the noise of the clock ticking on the wall in our living room, which I can hear too but I realise I screen it out - she's got to learn to do that too, I guess.
Music on the radio or TV seems a bit "screechy", especially when there's crescendo, or a singer "pumps up the volume". They told her at Specsavers that it might be difficult at first but they advised her strongly to "stick with it", so that she can get used to it sooner rather than later.
12:30 I know it was Mother's Day yesterday, but as is our wont, we're having our Mother's Day lunch today, when it's not crowded, and we've chosen the Bluebell Inn again this year, Malvern's oldest pub.
flashback to last March: we arrive, looking like a typical stylish couple,
at the Bluebell Inn, Malvern's oldest pub
It's a lovely old pub, with the oldest bit being to the right of the main building (see photo above).
Would you believe that the oldest bit of it was built over 500 years ago, in 1512, when a young and still dashing, 21-year-old King Henry VIII had been on the throne for only about 4 years? Well, it's true you know! And this was well before he started getting fat: at this stage he was still a bit of a sportsman, and wowing all the young ladies of the court etc.
Well, it's a Monday, so it's dead quiet with just a few "old codgers" dotted around the place, which is nice, and it also helps Lois with her hearing-aid because there's only one other couple within earshot.
I'm sure this pleases the staff, who all look a bit "burned-out" - I bet the place was "rammed" yesterday lunchtime.
Poor staff !!!!!
"mocktail" for Lois and, for me, tried and trusted Hendricks G&T for me
in a rather "poncey" big glass with a lemon and a straw
sausage and mash with green beans
dessert - some sort of fruit crumble for Lois
and something very chocolatey for me
14:00 We drive home, but before we get into bed for "nap time", Lois decides to take her hearing-aids out, and I think that's a wise choice. Maybe "wear them in the morning" but take them out at midday is maybe the way to go, in the initial stages, do you think?
She's certainly doesn't want them on in bed - sometimes it gets a bit rowdy in there, with all the fights for the duvet, and all. She doesn't want the hearing aids "bent out of shape", although, as I remind her, it's usually her that gets the best of any "rough-housing", with her almost encyclopaedic knowledge of the "holds" on our "permitted list", let alone the infamous "barred list"!
Well, we'll just have to see - watch this space!
Lois takes her hearing aids out before
we get into bed for naptime
Like a lot of British "period" films, this is another one featuring a love affair "across the class divide".
The setting is two grand houses a few hundred yards from each other, one belonging to the Nivens and the other belonging to the Sheringhams. And Jane, the kitchen maid at the Nivens' house, is in love with the Sheringhams' teenage son, Paul, who's studying to be a lawyer.
Their affair is doomed to go nowhere, however, because obviously the Sheringhams want young Paul to marry somebody from their own class. Scullery maid Jane and law student Paul, however, make the best of their "mixed-class" love affair while they can, having regular sex on the quiet, in the Sheringham's barn - and Paul knows a doctor who manages to get Jane a "Dutch cap" which means she doesn't get pregnant, which is nice.
It's bit uncomfortable doing it in the barn, but Jane and Paul don't seem to mind. Anyway they finally get lucky on Mothering Sunday 1924, because the Sheringhams and the Nivens and their friends are going to meet up at Henley on the River Thames for a high-class picnic under a sort of gazebo by the river, and the two sets of servants have all been given the day off. And Emma Niven, the high-class but moody young woman that his parents have selected for Paul to marry in 11 days' time, will be there.
Paul, however, stays behind in the house, telling his parents that he needs to "do a bit of studying", and saying he'll join the rest of them by the river at Henley later, in time for the picnic. This gives Paul and Jane the chance to be alone in his parent's house for a few hours.
Paul and Jane then take the opportunity to have a lot of sex in proper beds in the Sheringham's grand house and prance about through the house with no clothes on, and all that sort of malarkey.
And the day all ends badly, because after his nice morning of sex in nice beds with Jane, Paul eventually drives off to Henley to join his parents and their friends, but sadly, he is involved in a car crash on the way, which costs him his life.
The big mystery in the film, to Lois and me, is what exactly happened to cause the car accident - the Nivens and the Sheringhams aren't saying anything, but Jane gets suspicious when Mr Niven goes back to the Sheringham's house "looking to see whether Paul left a suicide note", which is weird.
Did Paul crash the car deliberately, Lois and I wonder, because he'd just had a delightfully sexy morning with Jane, but realised in the car that his "fate" was to go through the forthcoming marriage his parents had arranged with the Nivens' high-class but moody daughter Emma?
It just seems a bit extreme, that's all. Why doesn't Paul just break up with Emma and stick with Jane?
[Because it's 1924, not 2024, you pair of noggins !!! - Ed]
And it's especially a pity because the Sheringhams' maid, Ethel, had to go to a lot of trouble later that day washing the all the sheets that Paul and Jane had left their bodily fluids on.
Just saying !!!!
As if Ethel didn't have enough to do already, without all that kind of malarkey !!!!
[Oh just go to bed! - Ed]
22:00 We go to bed - zzzzzzzzz!!!!!
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