Thursday 31 March 2022

March 31

Sanctions

One of the options in opposing warring nations is imposing sanctions.

Ukraine has seen the most concentrated battery of sanctions, from the UK and many countries, intended to punish Putin and affect his campaign. 

He and a whole cohort of his cronies and Russia’s immensely rich industrialists have had assets frozen and international commercial ties have been broken.

But does it work? That is problematical.

It must hit badly the ordinary Russian, far more than the top tier and Putin who shrugs it off.

One of the most interesting features has been the response of the Russian oligarch Roman Abramovich, best  known in Britain as the owner of Chelsea premier league football club.

He has been promoting himself as a possible peacemaker in the talks in Turkey, with the most sensational revelation - allegation - that he was poisoned in the process.

Russia denies it and Britain does not believe it.

To me it sounds a public relations exercise, a bid to salvage his reputation. It certainly has created international attention.

If, as is now possible, some form of peace deal is achieved, the sanctions will soon be forgotten. Money talks,.

Everyone will want to get back to business as usual.






Wednesday 30 March 2022

March 30

Masks away!

My good day yesterday was made better by one seemingly unimportant move - not to have to wear a mask. It has taken a long time, 611 days.

It was ordered, reluctantly, by prime minister Johnson in July 2020, months after most European countries and pleas from health organisations.

I wore mine yesterday for my visit to the hearing aid clinic and have got rid of all but one. I enjoyed driving my scooter into the Tesco supermarket, barefaced.

How many lives has it saved.? Impossible to tell, but over the centuries, countless millions.

Masks have been used throughout the world for many purposes including rituals and religion, burials, entertainment, shaming, disguise, and health.

The earliest surviving mask was worn in 7000 BC.  They were used during plagues and in 1920 the modern health mask was introduced in Germany and the USA before being adopted universally in the present pandemic.

Famous personal masks include Guy Fawkes, Phantom of the Opera, and Batman.

Mine is now in my health file.



Tuesday 29 March 2022

29 March

Birdsong

I heard birds chirping in the trees opposite my flat today, the first time for years.

The reason - yesterday I was given a new pair of ‘ears’. Well, two new hearing aids.

I sat for an hour in the specialist hearing department at the Heath Hospital in Cardiff, headphones on, watching a computer screen connected with wires to headphones showing complicated graphs recording the pattern of my hearing.

Another test was listening intently, pressing a button when I could hear sound.

I cannot believe the difference. For years I have struggled with my hearing, often sitting at meetings staring blankly at speakers. It made me feel old and inadequate.

Thanks to my recent cataract operation I can now read without a magnifying glass and I hope to have my second eye operation soon - not after a three year wait as I had to for the first one.

That resulted in my ‘going private’. Successful, but expensive, and only two days after the op I had an NHS appointment! 

With all the new additions I am feeling like a new man. 

Happy to hear the birds chirping.

Thank you, NHS.





Monday 28 March 2022

Levelling up


The latest clarion call of the government, most enthusiastically sounded by the prime minister, is ‘levelling up’. It is nothing new, one of the unsolved and possibly insoluble problems going back generations, centuries even.

Among the most obvious examples are environment, housing, wealth and lifestyle.

I have been fortunate. I have always had a comfortable, if modest home, never been too cold or hungry; and been well cared for.

Rosemary and I were able to provide the same for our children, Beverley and Robert. It has been the same with my family, originating from the Skinners and Dymonds.

When my grandmother Fanny Dymond and her husband left Pembroke Dock in the late nineteenth century to settle in Cardiff they were able to buy a comfortable three bedroom home in Splott, Cardiff, not one of the growing city’s most salubrious areas, but comfortable and pleasant where they brought up their six children, including my mother, Gwendoline.

My grandfather died young but Granny Dymond lived there for most of her ninety years.

As a young reporter in South Wales my first experience of poverty and hardship was in the mining community of the Rhymney Valley which I ‘covered’ for almost twenty years.

The contrast between rich and poor was evident, exemplified most starkly by the homes of the masters of coal, the fortunates who discovered their land covered coal, black gold’, under their land. All they had to do was to let others ‘win it’ - dig it up and sell it letting them enjoy a life of opulence and, in some cases, immense wealth.

Their names still resonate; grand families like the Windsors and the Butes. In the mid 17th century the third Marquis of Bute, with his huge estate in Scotland, spent millions with his architect creating the uniquely designed spectacular Cardiff castle in the heart of the city.

At the other end of the scale were the hovels of the miners, mostly tiny ‘two up two down’ back-to-back houses where the predominately large families huddled together, often in squalor that increased year by year.

I saw the worst ones in what was then then the small village of Pontlottyn, four miles from the so different Caerphilly, dominated by its castle.

I reported one result of the poverty and squalor week by week from the reporters' bench at the police court in Bargoed, the town for decades overlooked, dominated, by the ever growing mountain of coal slack and dust. I wrote stories of crimes ranging from stealing food to serious assaults, even murder attempts.

Fortunately, those days, like that tip, are long gone. All fifteen mines in the valley closed, tipping 15,000 miners out work There are new communities, better housing attractive towns and villages.

The valley is green again. 

It has not ‘levelled up’ and there are still differences.

These thoughts came to me during my holiday last week when I stayed with Robert and family in  their smart, roomy house in the lovely village of Chalfont St Giles in Buckinghamshire, surely one of the most salubrious counties in England, with its bustling towns, charming villages and multitude of homes that, to me qualify, as mansions.

To put it simply, the whole county seems to reek of money and, for many, a privileged life, earned and paid for. Deserved, too, no doubt.

Naturally, not everyone is so fortunate but it is a whole world apart from the days of the industrial revolution and the Pontlottyns of my experience.

There has been some levelling  almost everywhere but it is still far from prevalent in Wales and throughout Britain and will probably never be achieved

Good luck, prime minister!

Sunday 27 March 2022

My Buckinghamshire holiday

At my age, expectations for an exciting life and stimulating lifestyle should be modest, naturally limited. It should be a time of comfort and gentle satisfaction, of memories, sad and happy. Bitter sweet. I cannot believe how different it has become for me.

A few months ago I was contemplating the increasingly realistic prospect of a steady decline, physically and mentally, like most of the residents at Sunrise Cardiff  care home. I countered this as far as I could by writing, reading and taking part in the activities.

Today my life has changed dramatically. I have a new home and a new life.

There is no better illustration of this than the time I have spent with Robert, Karen and Owen - not forgetting Rufus their lively, loveable dog. It was a delight. For four days I have enjoyed family life and new experiences which I thought were gone.

Every day was a new pleasure, organised to give me my own time and the chance to see new sights.

Among those was a visit with Karen to Owen’s school, Merchant Taylors’, one of the oldest schools  in Britain. For centuries based in the city of London, it moved out of the capital to acres of lovely countryside, with distinctively designed buildings, for work and sport, including extensive playing fields, and a concert hall.

I thought my school, Emanuel, Wandsworth, my time there cut short by the outbreak of war, was impressive but this is on a totally different scale

What a privilege for its 1,000 boys. Owen is making the best possible use of its facilities and advantages. Apart from his success in the educational side of life he is enjoying new experiences, in music and drama and the prospect of a successful future, whatever path he decides to take.

His range of activities includes yachting which he has taken up with his usual enthusiasm and skill. As with his school, the facilities at the sailing club and lake at the lovely Rickmansworth park with its lakes are excellent.


Cliveden


Another exciting day in my mini holiday was a guided tour by Robert of Cliveden, the magnificent former Astor family mansion and estate overlooking the Thames. 

Cliveden's Long Garden

I have seen many historic homes and estates, mansions and castles, in Britain and overseas and Cliveden is one of the finest.  In the warm spring sunshine, with its magnificently designed grounds, its miles of topiary, the multitude of daffodils and the superb Long Garden lined with limitless primroses it is a sheer delight.

More mundane, but for me with shopping a lifelong pleasure, was the expedition with Karen to nearby Beaconsfield where I bought a shoes and new sunglasses, essential with sunshine every day.



My stay at Chalfont St Giles ended with a celebration dinner at the White Hart where they had booked my room. (I could not stay with them as I could not manage the stairs.) Each day Robert called for me, after breakfast ready for the day’s adventure.

As always, Robert and Karen had planned everything to make my holiday safe and easy. When they first suggested I should use a wheelchair I was hesitant. To me that sounded ‘too old’, but it proved just right for the programme.




It has been one of the most memorable holidays in my life, one of the happiest over many years. There was some sadness, too, as I recalled the times Rosemary and I had spent with our two families but it only served to emphasise my incredibly good fortune in being loved and looked after so well

As I left the White Hart Robert booked my room there for Christmas.

I am old  -  very old,  but my life is still a pleasure. I hope it will continue for some time yet.

Wednesday 23 March 2022

Holiday time

Holiday time

It’s sunny and already warm, and I am sitting in the lounge at 24 White Hart Close.The first day of my mini holiday, the first break for three years. And everything is working out 

Robert and Karen had booked a room at the nearby White Hart Inn, where I enjoyed the first of my four nights. Very comfortable easy and safe for me. 

Robert called to take me ‘home’ for dinner and I had a chat with Owen about his plans before he went to prepare for his exam today. Played chase the ball - in the lounge - with Rufus.

It was lovely to be back with them; so many memories. Karen has worked out a holiday programme for me. Today we are off to the lakes where Owen goes sailing and then on to show me his school.

It’s going to be an exiting few days, something  I could never have imagined a few months ago. 

A world away from being in a care home.

Tuesday 22 March 2022

Holiday ahead!

Holiday ahead!

Ready to go! I am sitting waiting for Robert to arrive to take me to Chalfont St Giles and my first holiday break for over three years. What a treat. And, in a way, so unexpected .

Just a few months ago, in Sunrise, it was hard for me to imagine that there was life outside and that I would be able to join it.

But I decided that at least I should try. My aim - to go back to Penarth.

By chance I at once saw what seemed to be a perfect new home, 10 Bridgeman Court, a stone’s throw from Windsor Court where Rosemary and I spent a happy twenty years.

Since then it has all happened, buying the flat, the removal, getting my new home fully equipped and settling in. It has taken three months but I now have all I need and am living comfortably, happier and fitter than for some years.

It was the right decision, and its success is due to all the advice and help I have had.

I have said many times  how fortunate I am in many ways. For example, this week is forecast to be the sunniest and warmest so far this year.  Lucky Bob.

Monday 21 March 2022

My sister

My sister

Today was my sister Dorothy’s birthday. She died of cancer in 2003 after a life dedicated  to her children, Valerie and Wendy, her husband George and our mother.

Dorothy’s life changed when Dad died in 1942 at 52.

We had moved to Cardiff from London after months of bombing when Mum became ill. 18-year-old Dorothy immediately gave up her job to look after her.  

She did so, uncomplainingly, for the next fifty years, never able to take a full time job although for many years she worked part time from home for Peacocks, then a Cardiff based firm owned by Harold Peacock, a friend and neighbour of our Uncle Walter Dymond. 

Dorothy married George Thomas who after six years in the army became a teacher, first in Bristol and for many years in Cardiff.

After moving from our first Cardiff home they moved to a flat near Roath Park where Mum continue to have health problems. She ignored the doctor’s  instructions that she should stay in bed mornings and  settled for a room downstairs so she could have visits by friends and family. Everyone loved ‘ Nanny’ and there was a constant stream of visitors.

Her health improved so much she could manage to use the steps outside their flat better than I, to come regularly cto us and tonBert, my brother. Dorothy and George used to take her on holiday.

Mum lived until she 102, proof of the loving care she had always received from Dorothy whose own life was cruelly changed when George had cancer and after a harrowing yea, died.

This and her constant care for Mum had taken its toll and after months in a respite care home Dorothy died of cancer.

A marvellous daughter, wife….. and my big sister.

Sunday 20 March 2022

Off to Bucks

Off to Buckinghamshire

A big adventure for me next week. I am going to Buckinghamshire for a few days while my flat is being decorated. It was Robert and Karen’s idea. 

I had thought I might go on a coach holiday to Devon and when my niece Brenda checked with the company to see if I could manage it the answer was yes, but as soon as Karen heard, she suggested Bucks. An offer I could not refuse.

As there is no stairlift stay I could not stay at White Hart Close so she arranged accommodation for me at the White Hart Inn near their home. Robert will collect me on Tuesday and I will spend the next few days with them and Owen. 

Exciting. My first holiday for three years.

Again, I cannot believe how lucky I am.

Saturday 19 March 2022

My Dad

Bob (right) with his father and cousin Joan, 1930s

Brushing my sparse hair each morning I think of my Dad. I can’t avoid it; I am using his hairbrush and visualise him doing so one hundred years ago.

Marked with a silver F it is showing its age, the bristles worn down to the ebony, but I love the link, made more precious because I knew him for far too short a time

I was sixteen when Dad died suddenly. I had just started my career as a reporter. It was 1942 and like all families at the time we were separated by the war.

In my growing up years I saw too little of him. Before we moved to Cardiff he worked long hours, arriving home at Bushey Road, West Ham, in the evening. It was a rare treat when Bert,  Dorothy and I went to the underground station in the evening to walk home hand in hand with him

He was interested in all we did, proud of us, encouraging us.

He enjoyed the few rare occasions he watched me play cricket and my proudest possession was a cricket bat he bought me. It was very special. It had the signatures of the England and New Zealand test teams from, Robert tells me, 1937.

I used it for many years -  due to my leg problems cricket was the only game I could still play after having to give up football, rugby and hockey when I was twenty years old.

Robert is now looking after that battered bat with which I never was able to score a century. My top score was 70 on the fabled Arms Park pitch in Cardiff.

Dad’s life was marred by illness when he was lovingly nursed by Mum, and he was seriously injured when his steam crane toppled over as he was driving it at Sparrows wharf on the Thames at Wandsworth.

The day he died I was called out of Penarth police station where I was reporting a case, knowing as I made my way home that it was serious.

It was. He died on December 21and his funeral was on Christmas Eve.

My memories, strong and comforting, are brought to life every morning as I brush my hair.

Friday 18 March 2022

March 18

 Good and bad

The joyful homecoming of two British citizens after years held prisoner in Iran set me thinking of good and bad days, months and, even, years.

Most of us have faced hard times, for all sorts of reasons and in different circumstances, but we have had to try to put them behind us and get on with our life.

I have been inordinately fortunate all my life in having had so little setbacks which makes it easy for me to take a positive attitude.

On a bad day I tell myself tomorrow will be better, and almost invariably it has been, so far.

And I am surprised at how quickly disappointments and problems that seemed intractable dim in our memory.

What are our feelings now as Covid, despite statistics which even a few weeks ago would have worried us ?

The pandemic is a mere shadow compared with the blackness we endured for all those months.

For most of us that time and experience is something to look back on with relief and thankfulness.

In my diary I told of the first year of the pandemic and its effect on my life.

I did so to pass on to my great grandchildren a unique experience; the pandemic, the  disruption, deaths and the carers who shielded us.

We will never forgot it but passing time will soften our memories.

It ihas done with my recollection of 1939 to 1949 and the devastating bombing in London.

The even worse destruction wreaked on Ukraine cities will, must never, be forgotten,  but  people will get their homes and life back. And they will gradually see better times.

It is the good day following the bad.






Thursday 17 March 2022

March 17

After weeks of  shocking news of war and of millions losing or fleeing their homes, what a relief to see the headline, HOME AGAIN. The simple yet intensely moving story of Nazanin Ratcliffe, imprisoned in Iran for six years, reunited at last reunited with her family.

It is another example of a wicked regime that cares nothing for human life with innocent people being caught up in a nightmare life.

It is also a study of love and determination, of  Nazanin  and and husband  Richard who had fought relentlessly to secure her freedom, badgering our government to take action, even going on hunger strike.

He had sympathy and wide support, but his cause was not helped by the stubbornness of Boris Johnson who made matters worse by statements that infuriated Iran.

In the end, the solution came down to money…. £400 million, owed to Iran by Britain,  a legitimate deal which for many years our government refused to repay.

Nazanin’s ordeal was a kidnapping and it was only the reluctant paying of the ransom that eventually provided the solution and the happy ending.



the reluctant payment of the ransom that gave the happy ending.

a kidnap







what a relief to have

Wednesday 16 March 2022

March 16

 

I am enjoying getting out more on my scooter, especially to go shopping, one of my favourite pastimes. In a way it is easier for me now. I can drive straight into most shops and leisurely explore the aisles, buying what catches my eye. As a result my fridge and freezer are now well stocked and I have a wide choice of meals.

Shop assistants are very helpful, getting items I can’t reach and at the checkout packing my goods into the scooter bag.

I now drive down to the large Tesco about a mile or so away in the Marina, mainly on the road, which only takes about twenty minutes so I will stop having a regular monthly allowance delivery until next winter.

Being disabled has disadvantages but one of the good features is the thoughtfulness of most people. 

I drive on the pavement whenever possible and the pavements and dropped kerbs in Penarth are far better than in Cardiff.

Drivers generally are very considerate, giving me space, except very rarely when an impatient one carries on when am on a pedestrian crossing.

Pavement is awkward on busy days as many pedestrians dawdle or gather so I need to be patient. 

After three years I am replacing my scooter which I have got used to and which is so easy to drive.

I have become an expert negotiating those supermarket aisle and so far have hit nothing.

Being mobile gives me independence, choice and makes life a pleasure.









Monday 14 March 2022

March 14

Wars

After praising the media for its reporting from Ukraine it is disturbing that after three nonstop weeks there might be a danger of us being obsessed, overwhelmed mentally by it all.

We have applauded the magnificent response from many countries offering sanctuary and safety to the millions of refugees pouring out from their stricken country, but shocked by the endless pictures and descriptions of destroyed cities and death in the streets.

The conflict has almost totally taken over the news, including our worsening pandemic statistics, except notably and incongruosly perhaps, for sport including the weekend’ clamour and excitement of the Six Nations rugby championship, probably an effective safety valve for millions.

Ukraine has again highlighted the futility of wars but the world has endured them for thousands of years, and today they are still raging in many countries of which we know and seem to care little.

This year, wars in East Asia and Africa have have killed over 15,000 and in 2020 there was war in seventeen countries, killing 200,000, blighting the lives of millions, yet we seldom see reports.

All we can hope is that Ukraine will survive, its incredibly brave battle won, and that we will longer be obsessed by those horrifying daily headlines. 


no longer be the daily headline 












Sunday 13 March 2022

March 13,

 March 13

Looking ahead

It may sound presumptive but I have just taken out annual travel insurance for Europe.

I am hoping, over the next year, to take advantage of it.

I am optimistic as I am fitter and more mobile now than for some years.

I am always very careful at home and when going out which I  am finding much easier, far better than just a few months ago, a reason for optimism.

Where might I go? Possibly a short cruise. My last one, booked for March 2020, the month the pandemic started, was cancelled and I held on for months, hoping cruises would restart but finally had my money back.

Rosemary and I enjoyed many cruises, the last, six years ago, Christmas in the Caribbean, when Beverley emailed us the news of Rosa’s birth.

Since then I have taken one cruise on my own from Southampton which is convenient and easy to reach.

There are excellent facilities for handicapped people there including wheelchair assistance boarding, booking in - taken direct to your cabin - and disembarking, making it safe and easy.

In recent years as we stopped going on shore excursions we always had balcony cabins which made it very enjoyable.

I like looking ahead, so you never know!






















I








Saturday 12 March 2022

March 1

War reporting

Our newspapers, television and radio are giving us a harrowing up-to-the minute reports on the war in Ukraine. Never has war been so immediately and extensively covered.

And it is war correspondents who are risking their lives to bring us the news.

We watch as, standing in battle kit, they report dramatically from bomb shattered streets, bringing home to us war’s awfulness's, sadness and madness.

The BBC, with correspondents in almost every country, is doing a superb job, thanks to their presenters, reporters, camera and production teams.

It responded immediately to the need for live, responsible coverage sending Clive Myrie into the heart of the battle.

He spent ten days and nights reporting from a rooftop in Kiev interrupted by the sound of explosions, living in an underground makeshift shelter. A team of reporters in shattered, constantly bombarded cities in Ukraine, are risking bombs and shells while from neighbouring countries we are getting  heart-wrenching tales and pictures of masses of women and children who have fled their homes and country, their men stating to fight.

This is war reporting at a new level, but it started in the mid 1800s with The Times’ William Howard Russsell reporting the Boer war.

Today there are as many women reporters as men in the front line. One of the first was American Marie Colvin, who was The Times foreign correspondent for twenty five years and who died covering the Syrian war.

Clare Hollingworth, the first British woman war correspondent in September 1939 reported the  outbreak of the 1939-45war. She  was travelling from Poland to Germany when she noticed German troops massing on the border and three days later broke the news that the war had started.

Among the leading reporters in that war were Godfrey Talbot, Frank Gillard and Richard Dimbleby who flew in an RAF raid on Berlin as did Welshman Wynford Vaughan Thomas. I have just listened on the BBC archives to his live report from the Wellington bomber recorded at the height of the raid in September 1943. Frightening.

One of the veteran BBC reporters in the Ukraine is veteran BBC Middle East correspondent Jeremy Bowen whose father, Gareth, was a presenter, reporter in my days at BBC Wales many years ago,













First. Ritish One of the most outstanding was 

Marie Colvin





Friday 11 March 2022

March 11

 Patience

It is three months since I started my new life here in Penarth and in some ways it has made me a different man.

The exhilaration, bewildering  muddle of the first days setting up the flat I have bought was a lesson in itself. 

My determination to return to a more normal life after almost three years at Sunrise care home has been justified not only by my efforts but the enormous support, hard work of my family. Without Robert and Karen, my niece Brenda  and Ivor, and the encouragement of the rest of our large family it would have been impossible.

What have I learned from the upheaval?

So much. 

Perhaps the most significant change in me is learning the importance of patience, taking time to think and act; to be positive but not over ambitious.

I knew I could still look after myself; I had proved that at Sunrise where, while  the marvellous carers saw me through the worst pandemic months, I met most of my own needs, making my own breakfast and evening meal in my suite and  taking my medication.

Having a doctor visiting weekly, the ‘surgery’ a few yards from my door, helped me get fit again and so able to consider a move.

Now everything is taking shape. I have all I need to live comfortably and safely. My mini kitchen is fully equipped and I am enjoying working out menus and preparing my meals. I have started ‘Bob’s Cook Book’ , noting the recipes of my successful meals,

But, back to the my new, live-alone lifestyle.

I have, all my adult life, been ‘on the go’, in work and play. Anxious not to waste time. Not always a good trait and one I  realise, impossible if I am to cope on my own.

I am now more positive, more deliberate than I have ever been. I have the luxury of time. I still keep daily ‘job lists’ but do not worry about ticking them all off. BlThere is tomorrow.

One of my problems is that now that, although my pace has slowed, the days slide along so smoothly I sometimes lose track, at times creating confusion with my family over appointments.

Must learn. 

Otherwise I am enjoying my happiest, most fulfilling days.






Bob 






 days pass so quickly 

A







 










Thursday 10 March 2022

March 10

The Severn barrage

Here we go again. The government is taking another look at the  Severn Barrage scheme, an idea they turned down ten years ago and that has been tossed about for almost two hundred years 

It was in 1849 that Thomas Fulijames, the Gloucester city engineer, designed a barrage to link Monmouthshire with England to boost Gloucester dock’s trade. It would use the energy of the Bristol Channel tide - second highest in the world - would take eight years and cost £4million. But it seemed too ambitious and was dropped.

Almost one hundred years later, in 1943 the government initiated a study to revive the idea. The result was positive; stating that if work started in 1947 power could be generated by 1955.

Then decades of silence until, in 1981, after three years, the study report enthusiastically argued that it should be started straight away.

They opted for a route from Lavernock Point, Penarth, to Brean Down; the cost, five and a half billion.

Three years later hopes rose when the Secretary of State for Energy was presented with another, impressively illustrated, report on the scheme

It visualised a ten-mile-long barrage on the same route but topped by a dual carriageway road. It would produce one-seventh of the electricity for England and Wales.

Its benefits would be wide ranging, including industry, commerce and transport, shipping, tourism, recreation housing and infrastructure.

It would take a labour force of 13,000 to build  and many thousands of permanent jobs.

Later that year the barrage scheme was forcefully argued at the Institute of Civil Engineers’ conferences At last, with the clamour for clean energy becoming deafening, the largest ever single renewable energy project looked likely to approved, but it again stalled.

A helicopter flying over the Bristol Channel in 1978 signalled the possibility that the barrage would at last be built.

As county public relations officer for South Glamorgan I had arranged the flight that carried members of the committee chaired by Sir Hermann Bondi to survey the projected barrage route.

In March 1981 the committee’s report could not have been more positive.The original plans had been based on harnessing only the incoming tide, but the report favoured also using the ebb tide. The committee urged the government to spend £45 million on final preparatory work that would take four years.

But again it came to nothing. The main reason resistant was the powerful opposition to the effect the huge scheme would have on the environment and the unique habitat of the wide area affected.

It looked final - until last week when Michael Gove MP sparked it into life, setting up a new commission.

With the unique energy problems now faced by the UK and the world this looks to be its best chance to see a rare but not unique project, first visualised in Britain in the 19th century but completed by successfully in Brittany by France in a far smaller project forty years ago.

I would not bet on it.














Wednesday 9 March 2022

March 10

Death

Death is inevitable. We all know that but most of us don’t dwell on it, and for most of our lives don’t even think of our demise.

But, strangely, everyone is fascinated by sudden deals, disasters, man made or accidents. Death creates audiences, sells newspapers - a staple diet for almost two hundred years.

And there is so much death. This week we learned that the pandemic has killed six million.

The average yearly murder rate for England and Wales is 600. In a bad flu year 30,000 die.

Now, thousands are being killed in a senseless war in Ukraine, many of them civilians, including women and children, through indiscriminate shelling and bombing. 

We get it every day.We cannot shut our eyes or ears. We are horribly facinated by it.

A sad affair.



Tuesday 8 March 2022

March 8

Warming 

The sun has appeared, at last, and I am relishing it.

Last week, despite cold wind and sometimes rain I went out on my scooter most days, and at last, on Friday, had the luxury of a warming sun for a shopping trip up town.

On Sunday I went to the Penarth Yacht Club with my niece Brenda and Ivor for my first Sunday lunch there for three years.

The pace of my new life is quickening, too.

After rejoining the yacht club I am now becoming a member of the Penarth Civic Society which is doing good work.

I was was a member and did PRO work for Civic Trust Wales for many years when it was headed by Mervyn Jones, chief executive of Wales Gas.

We used to meet in the crumbling Insole Court mansion in Llandaff where in winter, with no heating, our meetings were kept short. The Court has since been restored as a community centre.

I have been contacted by Trinity Church Penarth which Rosemary and I attended and hope to go there again when the sun gets warmer.

The biggest treat, coming soon, is to spend a few days with Robert, Karen and Owen while my flat is being decorated. When I come back my home will be sparkling, redecorated and with new carpet throughout. I am looking forward to that.

So life is fine. How lucky I am.

Monday 7 March 2022

March 7

 Seashore

Being able to get out on my motability scooter is a relief and pleasure, especially after being so long confined to my Turret suite in Sunrise but I miss walking. I was lucky to have had many years when I could walk for miles, enjoying the countryside and towns all over the world and, my favourite, the seaside.

My greatest pleasureswas here, in Penarth, my seashore adventure.

In the afternoon I would walk out of Windsor Court, cross the Esplanade down onto the stony beach and and go westward.

In those days the shoreline was not so badly littered with bottles and other dangerous rubbish but it yielded some unexpected treasure. As I walked, the pebbles gave way to sand and a little way along the coast, under the cliff, lay scattered gleaming pink and white alabaster, all shapes and sizes. I became a collector with some ready made, natural works of art.

There was jetsum of course, and it was fun looking for interesting objects. For a few weeks I was continually picking up little plastic ducks, scores of them, probably the result of a charity competition in a local river.

I found footballs, dolls and seawashed tree branches.

On to Lavernock, to climb up to the cliff path and enjoy the walk back to Penarth, looking out across the channel to Somerset, fourteen miles away, and east and, on clear days the two Severn. Bridges. 

Home to tea. 

A perfect afternoon.






Saturday 5 March 2022

March 5

 I try not to watch too much of the nonstop, depressing war news but I get some satisfaction and relief by reliving happier times.

Best of all was when our family and millions of others were reunited in 1945 although without my father who died in 1942.

I remember my mother worrying when Bert, my brother, in the RA F, went overseas at the height of the war when Uboats were a menace.The good news came in a letter from Banff in Canada

She worried again, late in the war, when I was call up for army service.

Until then, as a teenager, I was immersed in war news. I had a huge map on the wall in my bedroom where I followed day by day the battles raging throughout Europe..

Most vivid memories were of the Russian front where Hitler made the fatal mistake of thinking he could defeat not just the biggest army in the world but the most determined civilians, fighting to depend their homes as the Ukranians are doing today.

There were ferocious battles, - for Kiev, now Kiyv - and Stalingrad, where a million citizens died in the five month long battle that thwarted Hitler’s invading army

I marked on my map the Don and Other key rivers in that epic struggle.

And at last, after six years, came peace in Europe and the Far East. A time for celebration, elation and hope that we would never again encounter the madness of major war. 

How tragically wrong we were.






 


Friday 4 March 2022

March 4

 Compassion

There is, thankfully, another aspect of the horrific war in Ukraine; the worldwide outpouring of sympathy for the besieged citizens of  bombarded cities.

And, much more important, practical help.

Just as the scenes of death and destruction are heartrending, the sight of exhausted women and children arriving by train in Poland, Hungary and other countries being greeted by local families with handwritten ‘Welcome’ signs and offers of a home is a wonderful example of  active compassion, of love.

The pictures from Poland and Germany are perhaps the most remarkable. They, and other countries in Europe lived through horrendous times, experiencing the same desperation, upheaval and uncertainty as the fleeing Ukrainian women and children.

They remember, and their instant response is a beacon that lights up the world on a very dark night. 




Thursday 3 March 2022

March 3

 Evacuation

The saddest pictures from Ukraine are of women and children struggling to get on trains to take them to safety in Poland and the other neighbouring countries.

Only a few men to be seen, waving goodbye before going home to join the fight against the advancing Russian army.

In Britain, you have to be well over eighty years old to remember the days when we suffered the same trauma.

War had come suddenly after months of uncertainty.

With fears of mass bombing, evacuation of children from London and other major cities began when war against Germany was ordered.

We Skinners were among the millions of families split up, many never to be totally reunited. 

The newspapers showed tearful children as trains took us live in safety around the country 

My brother Bert, eighteen, was called up immediately for service in the RA F, my sister Dorothy’s school moved outside London. I, then almost thirteen, was put on the train to go to live with my Auntie Flo in Splott where my mother’s family lived.  No need for tears for me, but worry, yes, about Mum and Dad left in London.

In fact, I experienced bombing before them, when Cardiff was attacked, bombs falling within a quarter of a mile of my home in Moorland Road. Mum panicked, calling me back to Wandsworth, just in time for the Battle of Britain and the mass bombing of the capital.

In weeks of almost non stop of bombing we escaped except one night when incendiaries fell while we were in our garden air raid shelter, Dad using the stirrup pump provided by the government.

That was a dangerous, sad time, but nothing like the catastrophe engulfing Ukrainian cities.

And worse, no-one knows how it will end.



Wednesday 2 March 2022

March 2

War

The impact around the world of the Ukraine war is immense, with the prospect of dire consequences  that will shape the future for decades.  More serious than the cold war era.

Suddenly attention has moved away from our other war, the pandemic.

Ukraine is dominating the media with the BBC’s extended news bulletins presenting harrowing accounts and pictures.

Gone, and almost forgotten are the daily reports of the latest covid infection and death statistics of the insidious virus - 19 million cases and 162,000 deaths in Britain.

We are now obsessed with new daily death lists, of civilians killed in their homes in a senseless war.

It is indeed a strange world.

Tuesday 1 March 2022

March 1


Visitors 

For me, living a normal life again has brought many rewards; many much missed freedoms, none more appreciated than welcoming visitors.

Despite the comfort and safety in Sunrise there were weeks, sometimes months, of loneliness to be overcome.

I look occasionally at me on television welcoming Robert and Ria at Sunrise after months of lockdown. Sitting in a gazebo in the front garden laughing and chatting. 

A rare pleasure which I shall replay whenever I start to think back on those unique pandemic years.

Yesterday was even better, proof  of my new life. My granddaughter Ria came again, this time with four year old Claudia. Her sister Rosa was at a birthday party. Both girls had enjoyed visits to Sunrise.

We had fun in my new home, making special ice creams and, a big treat, the short trip down to the Penarth pier, Claudia beside me as I drove my scooter, and a call in at the tiny sweet shop. 

A few days ago  Karen came again. Another marvellous day, lunch, shopping and, as usual, good advice.

This weekend  am going to the Yacht Club for lunch with Brenda and Ivor who have been regular visitors, not just recently, but for the many months in Sunrise.

I never felt lonely there but this is a different world and I am loving it.






  




the front garden. I will be replaying that scene for years.pl