Dateline Saturday 22nd September 2012
We are on the last knockings of summer as I drove into Banbury on a glorious morning the light was superb, every bush, tree, blade of grass, was giving its all showing off their greenery as if in defiance of the change of season. The cotswold and ironstone buildings glowing gold in the sunlight, the almost cloudless sky as blue as only a blue sky can be in England.
As I write I am sitting by the canal a cappuccino at my elbow, looking at the boats lazily swaying on the gentle water, the sun creating reflections bouncing off their hulls in wondrous watery patterns, a gentle breeze just takes the edge off the suns heat making it oh so comfortable sitting here.
There is little movement on the water many craft are on moorings their owners busying themselves with things that must be done at seasons end, some will be making their way home, scattered to all parts of the canal system, whereas some are preparing for a winter afloat, others, I think waiting for the big event of the year Canal Day.It is due to take place on the first Sunday of October.
All to soon it's time for home my coffee is finished and GTB is waiting for me.
The smell of newly turned earth wafts through the open window of the car emerging from the tree lined road, once fields golden with the summer bounty are turning chocolate brown under the plough, the huge machines of summer give way to the huge machines of autumn the computer controlled GPS positioned tractors creating arrow straight furrows in the rich loam, others are tilling the ground ready for sowing seed. Ere long green shoots of winter crops will be pushing through striving to get their roots down into the still warm soil before the early frosts of winter arrive.
I am still wondering where the migrating birds gather? As a young person I would see them sitting patiently on the telephone wires waiting for the off, today, nothing, have they gone already? Am I to early? ah! But of course no telephone wires.
How long are these golden days going to last? In a little over a week October will be here heralding the start of autumn my favourite month, the sun still has warmth to it the trees blazing with colour, yes that will do for me.
Tuesday, 2 October 2012
Posted with Blogsy
Tuesday, 21 August 2012
Let The Train Take The Strain
An old slogan which I never thought I would be using, But! A few days ago Genny Ira Yura and I decided to go to Birmingham, I was not feeling up to driving so it was suggested we go by rail. What! You kidding me? After giving it some thought, well maybe not so bad an idea.
I discovered the train ran from Banbury station the parking easy and it's a short hop from home.
“Four tickets to Birmingham” I said to the ticket clerk, “which station she asked? The nearest to the Bullrings please, well if you go to Moor Street I can do you four tickets return anytime travel today for £26 what! You serious? How close to the bullring is it? right across the road, that'll do for me thank you”
Lifts gave me easy access to the platform good information on arrivals displayed, train arrived on time, plenty of room, comfortable seats, is this for real? (Ok it's a Saturday) sitting at a table take stock good signage, then I discover free wifi yes wifi for free great for surfing or emails bit much to expect streaming video and of course you can't but for everything else very good. Mind you how fast and accessible it would be at peak times I don't know. The train manager (apparently not called guards or ticket collectors anymore) was cheerful and helpful so different from the old days.
We arrived on time.
The Bullring was as described right outside the station, Irina and Genny enjoyed their wander round. I found an Italian cafe come coffee shop dispensing excellent cappuccino, I was happy, Genny too we both agreed a further trip to Birmingham will be called for.
If I can get the use of a mobility scooter I will not be confined to the coffee shop whoopeee, I can now visit the apple store I subsequently discovered is there.
Our return journey was a carbon of the first, arrival at Banbury punctual, a short gallop to the car and home. Probably the least stressful journey I have taken for a long time. Would I do it again? Sure of course, well if that scooter bit can be arranged.
I discovered the train ran from Banbury station the parking easy and it's a short hop from home.
“Four tickets to Birmingham” I said to the ticket clerk, “which station she asked? The nearest to the Bullrings please, well if you go to Moor Street I can do you four tickets return anytime travel today for £26 what! You serious? How close to the bullring is it? right across the road, that'll do for me thank you”
Lifts gave me easy access to the platform good information on arrivals displayed, train arrived on time, plenty of room, comfortable seats, is this for real? (Ok it's a Saturday) sitting at a table take stock good signage, then I discover free wifi yes wifi for free great for surfing or emails bit much to expect streaming video and of course you can't but for everything else very good. Mind you how fast and accessible it would be at peak times I don't know. The train manager (apparently not called guards or ticket collectors anymore) was cheerful and helpful so different from the old days.
We arrived on time.
The Bullring was as described right outside the station, Irina and Genny enjoyed their wander round. I found an Italian cafe come coffee shop dispensing excellent cappuccino, I was happy, Genny too we both agreed a further trip to Birmingham will be called for.
If I can get the use of a mobility scooter I will not be confined to the coffee shop whoopeee, I can now visit the apple store I subsequently discovered is there.
Our return journey was a carbon of the first, arrival at Banbury punctual, a short gallop to the car and home. Probably the least stressful journey I have taken for a long time. Would I do it again? Sure of course, well if that scooter bit can be arranged.
Tuesday, 14 August 2012
I wanna tell you a story part 4
The story continues now with what happened after Yevgeniya she came to the UK.
It was 14 June in 2001 I was standing in the arrivals hall terminal two London Heathrow a mixture of nervousness and excitement my beloved Jenny was coming to stay in the UK. Thoughts are rushing through my head was she okay did she make the flight alright was she having a problem with immigration and customs? what was happening? minutes seem to be hours before finally she was coming through the exit gate to me. That was 11 years ago and since that time we have never been apart, 24 hours a day seven days a week of the most wonderful time I have spent ever.
The following day we had to go shopping I will never forget Yevgeniya’s face first time she walked into a supermarket. There are large food shops in Odessa but nothing had prepared her for what she was seeing.The variety and sheer volume of goods on offer was amazing, the biggest surprise was the delicatessen counter she had never ever seen such a display or variety of cheese. Ukraine's cheese is to say the least fairly dreadful there's a lot of it in many different types, much of a muchness tasting just about the same, pretty awful.
We began to settle down as a couple, doing the things couples do. Conversation was still troublesome, Genny started to teach herself English, every day writing down and learning five new words, my excuse for not learning Russian!? well: I'm lazy, no not really, its just that Genny's need was greater than mine, everyone around her is chatting away she is unable to join in, this did lead to a few comical moments, as Genny became more proficient I had less need to help with the shopping, however I continued to hold her hand, this lead one day to me a asking do we need tea? “Nesquick” she said, I handed her a tin, “no not Nesquick not that Nesquick next week” I know I speak with a strong accent but: Another time she referred to toes as feet fingers, and chicken hairs for feathers.
Do you know I can't remember how we went about settling Genny in. I think getting her granted residency was not to difficult the big effort came much later when she applied for citizenship, but that's for later on.
We were engaged and wanted to get married, except for an obstacle I had not divorced my children's mother, as it happened we had been separated for some years, I think she was relieved,when I finally got round to sorting it out, she readily agreed, a solicitor was found the papers signed, just like that a chapter of our lives wiped out in a pen stroke simple.
Yevgeniya was readily accepted by my friends and my workforce, the close family were much more reticent, Mother didn't know what to make of her son finding this foreign person “what on earth are you thinking of” she said there was no malice there just puzzlement, her boy who had never done anything so adventurous before. The children didn't know what to make of it either, Lizzy has never properly accepted her,this has been a big sadness for us both. Edward, though slow to come round decided that if that's what Dad wanted and she made him happy, well that was alright by him.
Eventually we decided to try and set a date for the wedding, the registry office in Oxford was chosen. The date set for the sixth of October, new clothes were bought and hired all the trappings of the day arranged including a translator, we were fortunate in finding Penny a fluent Russian speaker,she had spent much time in Moscow and was only to happy to do this for us. My favourite Uncle said he would be honoured to give her away, my son Edward was my best man.
My family and friends attended the ceremony, the sadness was that our other children were unable to do so, timing and visas being the issue.
Later that evening we were discussing this,anxious to get over to Odessa as soon as practical, the following month we were able to book a flight. A thought suddenly occurred to me,”would you like to be married or at least have a blessing in church” I said, (Oh Yes!) she replied “I have never been married in church,” (in soviet times it would be a five minute civil ceremony) I could feel a lump in my throat a mixture of sadness and elation
7th November dawned cloudy and rainswept nothing was going to spoil our day though. Our girls had a surprise in store for us, they had managed to find an almost forgotten little church set in woodland, it had recently been restored and was looking wonderful, a number of Yevgeniya's friends were waiting to wish us good luck,the little bell in the tower was ringing as we approached the entrance, the doors swung open, a wonderful sight greeted us, rich colours deep reds glorious golds breathtaking blue paintwork, polished and burnished gold fittings, painted icons richly adorned in gold, the frames heavily carved and gilded, a full choir the sonorous Bass and Baritone voices filling the church with this extraordinary beautiful moving sound, candles glowing in the darker recesses, I got that lump in my throat again.
The ceremony for me was so different from anything I had experienced before, of course carried out in Russian I had no idea what was being said, this lead to a incident which produced great mirth with our congregation, the gist of it was, we were making our vows, the priest asked me a series of questions I had no idea what he had said but a nudge from Genny prompted the reply Da (yes) another question, he looked very serious Genny too, I took my cue Niet (No) shocked silence, again he repeated the question I thought better guess right this time boy, I could feel the eyes burning into my back, Da (yes) I said, smiles, you could hear the release of breath back in Chadlington. The service continued without further incident Genny was holding my arm so tightly and sort of squeezing it if she thought I needed help.
After it was all over Yura said to me “do you know why we all grinned at your answer, the priest asked you first do you love this women will you be good husband?” “Da” “will you behave yourself not look at other women, gamble, get drunk or in other ways misbehave” “Niet) oops that was it big laughs all round.
The bells were ringing as we walked down the steps, as is tradition our friends were waiting for us with a bottle of champagne to toast our good fortune and happiness, it was raining the water slowly running down or backs, I didn't notice it, I was dry and warm inside the cloak of love and friendships offered to me this day.
Afterward home to a feast only the Ukranish people no how to put on, a speciality dish prepared by our friend Luda was a fish which was skinned and deboned the flesh being mixed with vegetables and herbs the skin being filled with the mixture, cooked and served cold,it is totally delicious. There were of course the famous Russian salads,dishes of caviar supplied by Ira’s friend Vitali, with copious amounts of vodka,wine and champagne.
I had met Gennys friends before of but this time it was different I was now part of her family, they had accepted me curiously before as her friend, now my changed status put me on a different possibly more intimate level. Sasha Litvin and I got on like a house on fire, we had from the start. A fascinating fellow trained to fly by Genny, he went on to a distinguished military career flying jets, piloting Mig fighter jets, he was shot down in Afghanistan rescued by another friend Sasha, (more of him later) finished his service as a ranking officer. On retirement he pursued his hobby as a model maker and artist going full time producing unique pictures which are part model part painting giving genuine 3D appearance, soon taking commissions he has produced a fine body of work.
I first met Luda and He in Derabasovska Square where they had a pitch selling his works of art to the tourists,I bought a couple of them as presents, subsequently he has gifted us with many of his pictures which now have a wall to themselves at home. Sasha and I hit it off almost at once he has become a firm friend someone I always look forward to seeing on my return to Odessa. The other Sasha was also trained by Genny he to had a distinguished military career his final work was test flying their version of a Russian Jump Jet the Yak 38 on and off aircraft carriers, these planes as I understand are not so dissimilar from the Harrier, I believe it used a separate engine driving a central fan mounted in the fuselage giving vectored thrust to produce the vertical lift. As with most military personnel there was little work for him at retirement, a very small pension was not enough to live on. Sinking his money into a second hand Lada Sasha started a taxi business, this is how I met him and his wife Nina, they brought Sasha and Luda (oh this is confusing)to the church for our wedding,as I had a similar business we found some common ground we haven't kept in touch but they did come to our 10th wedding anniversary party.
Tanya and Valoda are Gennys oldest friends she and Tanya go way back, she is another remarkable lady, she too was in the military as a parachutist holding the record for the highest jump from a balloon not quite as high as Joe Kittenger but very high. Her husband Valoda was a parachute instructor, he is a real character I have to be careful in his company he has a tendency to keep topping up my glass with vodka, (my tolerance for alcohol is not that high), it is sad that he speaks no English, my russian is non existent, however we do sort of communicate by nods and gestures if the chat is to difficult a call to Genny usually will give us the translation, he is such a rascal though we have to be careful what we say.
Vassa and his wife Luda are very close to Genny, a smart dapper man Vassa was a navigator a regular part of Anatoli’s aircrew. Living only a few doors away in the next block of flats their children grew up together, again a great guy full of laughter and stories,we always go to them a least once during our visits. Luda was a professional cook her food is very traditional and very very tasty, she is a brilliant hostess,when we visit she always ensures that she has prepared at least one of my favourite dishes. What an very emotional day, the richness of the choral voices always able to move me, the colour and splendour of the little church was delightful, but mostly the warmth of friendships and joy we experienced,to this day never fails to bring a lump to my throat.
On our return as I have said before we settled down to life together,me to my Private Hire business, Genny to sorting out this bachelor place turning it into a home. It has taken a long time, a lot of paint and much elbow grease, but she has more than succeeded turning this house into a home. For me after a long drive it was wonderful on arrival to be greeted with a kiss a cuddle and a cuppa tea.this flat oozes her personality it's cheerful warm and oh so comfortable. Having made the inside to her liking to my chagrin she set about the garden. My son Edward and I had laid out the front and rear gardens to suit our (my) needs we had built raised beds and covered the ground in weed suppression membrane a liberal covering of wood chips all to save work, we knew neither of us had time to do much to it once it was established, it looked in our eyes very good a courtyard style at the rear and raised beds and gravel in the front, specimen plants and ground cover formed the basis, with splashes of colour from bedding plants in the spring and summer.
Genny however had other ideas she believes if you cant eat it its not worth growing, I've tried hard to change her mind with some success, but still she has gradually replaced the non doer plants with fruit bushes,herbs and other such tasty things, Genny has what is called a green finger, plants seem to love her and respond to her ministrations, now the garden looks great a bit of a cottage style with vegetables dotted here and there among the shrubs and flowers.
Genny is a most resourceful person, she never fails to amaze me at what she comes up with,making an oil lamp one night from cooking oil and strips of and old tshirt when the power failed(My torch battery was flat) to a wonderful system of watering her indoor plants when we are away, this consists of water containers linked to a collection of her plants by strips of cloth, using a capillary action they can survive for weeks before the water need topping up, clever or what? I've marvelled at her needlework, the house is now full of her tapestry pictures, crochet table mats and coasters, she actually produced a beautiful dress this way,even a rag rug for the front door (my poor old shirts), the one small gripe I have is that space being at a premium I was cajoled into sorting the cupboards, numerous boxes of precious things? the garage, you get the idea. Anyway most stuff was dumped or given away I know it had to be done but a big chunk of me just went, (there’s that bloody lump again), of course she was right it needed doing now uncluttered the place is so much easier to keep up together.
The next major event was to establish a permission for residency, Oh Boy! I do not wish this rigmarole on anyone. We took trips to first to Birmingham, only to be told she had come UK on the wrong visa and therefore was required to go to London, Croydon to be exact, to a place called Lunar House,it is the sorting hat for all persons wishing to stay in the country, all asylum seeker applications are processed through there, and it was a nightmare to deal with. I had been warned of this by a client who some years earlier had this experience. I thought he was joking but nothing had changed, he it was who advised if we had to go there to arrive as early as possible the doors didn't open until 9 am but be there at least by 7-30. Duly doing so I was astounded to find a crowd of people already ensconced some I was told had been queuing since 3am. We took up our position at the end of the line, within minutes dozens more folk had arrived. We waited and waited almost on the dot the doors opened the queue. started to move, then stop then start and stop again. The nearer we got it became clear that a screening process was in place a single machine to scan everyone entering the building, our turn came we were given a number and sent up stairs there we waited for our number to be called, at last it was our turn we had been 7 hours up to this point. The clerk took Gennys paperwork scanned through it stamped something and passed it back that was it, in a few days he said she would receive her national insurance number and notice of resident status. That was it nothing more to be done for a further three years until she applied for citizenship.
That's it really, in eleven years of marriage we have achieved so much My Darling became a British Citizen.We've visited many places with Ira Yura and the grandchildren, Istanbul, the Crimea, Moldova, we have sampled the delights of Vienna, holidayed in Majorca. Personally I have seen things and been places I would never have done had it not been for this wonderful lady and her family.
Now retired and not in the best of health I am spending as much time as I can with my extended family, Lena and Nick in Shaldon, Ira and Yura in Odessa. The good news is that Ira and Yura now have a long visa meaning it is much easier for them to visit us in UK I am finding the journey to and from Odessa more difficult each time so this is wonderful news.
It was 14 June in 2001 I was standing in the arrivals hall terminal two London Heathrow a mixture of nervousness and excitement my beloved Jenny was coming to stay in the UK. Thoughts are rushing through my head was she okay did she make the flight alright was she having a problem with immigration and customs? what was happening? minutes seem to be hours before finally she was coming through the exit gate to me. That was 11 years ago and since that time we have never been apart, 24 hours a day seven days a week of the most wonderful time I have spent ever.
The following day we had to go shopping I will never forget Yevgeniya’s face first time she walked into a supermarket. There are large food shops in Odessa but nothing had prepared her for what she was seeing.The variety and sheer volume of goods on offer was amazing, the biggest surprise was the delicatessen counter she had never ever seen such a display or variety of cheese. Ukraine's cheese is to say the least fairly dreadful there's a lot of it in many different types, much of a muchness tasting just about the same, pretty awful.
We began to settle down as a couple, doing the things couples do. Conversation was still troublesome, Genny started to teach herself English, every day writing down and learning five new words, my excuse for not learning Russian!? well: I'm lazy, no not really, its just that Genny's need was greater than mine, everyone around her is chatting away she is unable to join in, this did lead to a few comical moments, as Genny became more proficient I had less need to help with the shopping, however I continued to hold her hand, this lead one day to me a asking do we need tea? “Nesquick” she said, I handed her a tin, “no not Nesquick not that Nesquick next week” I know I speak with a strong accent but: Another time she referred to toes as feet fingers, and chicken hairs for feathers.
Do you know I can't remember how we went about settling Genny in. I think getting her granted residency was not to difficult the big effort came much later when she applied for citizenship, but that's for later on.
We were engaged and wanted to get married, except for an obstacle I had not divorced my children's mother, as it happened we had been separated for some years, I think she was relieved,when I finally got round to sorting it out, she readily agreed, a solicitor was found the papers signed, just like that a chapter of our lives wiped out in a pen stroke simple.
Yevgeniya was readily accepted by my friends and my workforce, the close family were much more reticent, Mother didn't know what to make of her son finding this foreign person “what on earth are you thinking of” she said there was no malice there just puzzlement, her boy who had never done anything so adventurous before. The children didn't know what to make of it either, Lizzy has never properly accepted her,this has been a big sadness for us both. Edward, though slow to come round decided that if that's what Dad wanted and she made him happy, well that was alright by him.
Eventually we decided to try and set a date for the wedding, the registry office in Oxford was chosen. The date set for the sixth of October, new clothes were bought and hired all the trappings of the day arranged including a translator, we were fortunate in finding Penny a fluent Russian speaker,she had spent much time in Moscow and was only to happy to do this for us. My favourite Uncle said he would be honoured to give her away, my son Edward was my best man.
My family and friends attended the ceremony, the sadness was that our other children were unable to do so, timing and visas being the issue.
Later that evening we were discussing this,anxious to get over to Odessa as soon as practical, the following month we were able to book a flight. A thought suddenly occurred to me,”would you like to be married or at least have a blessing in church” I said, (Oh Yes!) she replied “I have never been married in church,” (in soviet times it would be a five minute civil ceremony) I could feel a lump in my throat a mixture of sadness and elation
7th November dawned cloudy and rainswept nothing was going to spoil our day though. Our girls had a surprise in store for us, they had managed to find an almost forgotten little church set in woodland, it had recently been restored and was looking wonderful, a number of Yevgeniya's friends were waiting to wish us good luck,the little bell in the tower was ringing as we approached the entrance, the doors swung open, a wonderful sight greeted us, rich colours deep reds glorious golds breathtaking blue paintwork, polished and burnished gold fittings, painted icons richly adorned in gold, the frames heavily carved and gilded, a full choir the sonorous Bass and Baritone voices filling the church with this extraordinary beautiful moving sound, candles glowing in the darker recesses, I got that lump in my throat again.
The ceremony for me was so different from anything I had experienced before, of course carried out in Russian I had no idea what was being said, this lead to a incident which produced great mirth with our congregation, the gist of it was, we were making our vows, the priest asked me a series of questions I had no idea what he had said but a nudge from Genny prompted the reply Da (yes) another question, he looked very serious Genny too, I took my cue Niet (No) shocked silence, again he repeated the question I thought better guess right this time boy, I could feel the eyes burning into my back, Da (yes) I said, smiles, you could hear the release of breath back in Chadlington. The service continued without further incident Genny was holding my arm so tightly and sort of squeezing it if she thought I needed help.
After it was all over Yura said to me “do you know why we all grinned at your answer, the priest asked you first do you love this women will you be good husband?” “Da” “will you behave yourself not look at other women, gamble, get drunk or in other ways misbehave” “Niet) oops that was it big laughs all round.
The bells were ringing as we walked down the steps, as is tradition our friends were waiting for us with a bottle of champagne to toast our good fortune and happiness, it was raining the water slowly running down or backs, I didn't notice it, I was dry and warm inside the cloak of love and friendships offered to me this day.
Afterward home to a feast only the Ukranish people no how to put on, a speciality dish prepared by our friend Luda was a fish which was skinned and deboned the flesh being mixed with vegetables and herbs the skin being filled with the mixture, cooked and served cold,it is totally delicious. There were of course the famous Russian salads,dishes of caviar supplied by Ira’s friend Vitali, with copious amounts of vodka,wine and champagne.
I had met Gennys friends before of but this time it was different I was now part of her family, they had accepted me curiously before as her friend, now my changed status put me on a different possibly more intimate level. Sasha Litvin and I got on like a house on fire, we had from the start. A fascinating fellow trained to fly by Genny, he went on to a distinguished military career flying jets, piloting Mig fighter jets, he was shot down in Afghanistan rescued by another friend Sasha, (more of him later) finished his service as a ranking officer. On retirement he pursued his hobby as a model maker and artist going full time producing unique pictures which are part model part painting giving genuine 3D appearance, soon taking commissions he has produced a fine body of work.
I first met Luda and He in Derabasovska Square where they had a pitch selling his works of art to the tourists,I bought a couple of them as presents, subsequently he has gifted us with many of his pictures which now have a wall to themselves at home. Sasha and I hit it off almost at once he has become a firm friend someone I always look forward to seeing on my return to Odessa. The other Sasha was also trained by Genny he to had a distinguished military career his final work was test flying their version of a Russian Jump Jet the Yak 38 on and off aircraft carriers, these planes as I understand are not so dissimilar from the Harrier, I believe it used a separate engine driving a central fan mounted in the fuselage giving vectored thrust to produce the vertical lift. As with most military personnel there was little work for him at retirement, a very small pension was not enough to live on. Sinking his money into a second hand Lada Sasha started a taxi business, this is how I met him and his wife Nina, they brought Sasha and Luda (oh this is confusing)to the church for our wedding,as I had a similar business we found some common ground we haven't kept in touch but they did come to our 10th wedding anniversary party.
Tanya and Valoda are Gennys oldest friends she and Tanya go way back, she is another remarkable lady, she too was in the military as a parachutist holding the record for the highest jump from a balloon not quite as high as Joe Kittenger but very high. Her husband Valoda was a parachute instructor, he is a real character I have to be careful in his company he has a tendency to keep topping up my glass with vodka, (my tolerance for alcohol is not that high), it is sad that he speaks no English, my russian is non existent, however we do sort of communicate by nods and gestures if the chat is to difficult a call to Genny usually will give us the translation, he is such a rascal though we have to be careful what we say.
Vassa and his wife Luda are very close to Genny, a smart dapper man Vassa was a navigator a regular part of Anatoli’s aircrew. Living only a few doors away in the next block of flats their children grew up together, again a great guy full of laughter and stories,we always go to them a least once during our visits. Luda was a professional cook her food is very traditional and very very tasty, she is a brilliant hostess,when we visit she always ensures that she has prepared at least one of my favourite dishes. What an very emotional day, the richness of the choral voices always able to move me, the colour and splendour of the little church was delightful, but mostly the warmth of friendships and joy we experienced,to this day never fails to bring a lump to my throat.
On our return as I have said before we settled down to life together,me to my Private Hire business, Genny to sorting out this bachelor place turning it into a home. It has taken a long time, a lot of paint and much elbow grease, but she has more than succeeded turning this house into a home. For me after a long drive it was wonderful on arrival to be greeted with a kiss a cuddle and a cuppa tea.this flat oozes her personality it's cheerful warm and oh so comfortable. Having made the inside to her liking to my chagrin she set about the garden. My son Edward and I had laid out the front and rear gardens to suit our (my) needs we had built raised beds and covered the ground in weed suppression membrane a liberal covering of wood chips all to save work, we knew neither of us had time to do much to it once it was established, it looked in our eyes very good a courtyard style at the rear and raised beds and gravel in the front, specimen plants and ground cover formed the basis, with splashes of colour from bedding plants in the spring and summer.
Genny however had other ideas she believes if you cant eat it its not worth growing, I've tried hard to change her mind with some success, but still she has gradually replaced the non doer plants with fruit bushes,herbs and other such tasty things, Genny has what is called a green finger, plants seem to love her and respond to her ministrations, now the garden looks great a bit of a cottage style with vegetables dotted here and there among the shrubs and flowers.
Genny is a most resourceful person, she never fails to amaze me at what she comes up with,making an oil lamp one night from cooking oil and strips of and old tshirt when the power failed(My torch battery was flat) to a wonderful system of watering her indoor plants when we are away, this consists of water containers linked to a collection of her plants by strips of cloth, using a capillary action they can survive for weeks before the water need topping up, clever or what? I've marvelled at her needlework, the house is now full of her tapestry pictures, crochet table mats and coasters, she actually produced a beautiful dress this way,even a rag rug for the front door (my poor old shirts), the one small gripe I have is that space being at a premium I was cajoled into sorting the cupboards, numerous boxes of precious things? the garage, you get the idea. Anyway most stuff was dumped or given away I know it had to be done but a big chunk of me just went, (there’s that bloody lump again), of course she was right it needed doing now uncluttered the place is so much easier to keep up together.
The next major event was to establish a permission for residency, Oh Boy! I do not wish this rigmarole on anyone. We took trips to first to Birmingham, only to be told she had come UK on the wrong visa and therefore was required to go to London, Croydon to be exact, to a place called Lunar House,it is the sorting hat for all persons wishing to stay in the country, all asylum seeker applications are processed through there, and it was a nightmare to deal with. I had been warned of this by a client who some years earlier had this experience. I thought he was joking but nothing had changed, he it was who advised if we had to go there to arrive as early as possible the doors didn't open until 9 am but be there at least by 7-30. Duly doing so I was astounded to find a crowd of people already ensconced some I was told had been queuing since 3am. We took up our position at the end of the line, within minutes dozens more folk had arrived. We waited and waited almost on the dot the doors opened the queue. started to move, then stop then start and stop again. The nearer we got it became clear that a screening process was in place a single machine to scan everyone entering the building, our turn came we were given a number and sent up stairs there we waited for our number to be called, at last it was our turn we had been 7 hours up to this point. The clerk took Gennys paperwork scanned through it stamped something and passed it back that was it, in a few days he said she would receive her national insurance number and notice of resident status. That was it nothing more to be done for a further three years until she applied for citizenship.
That's it really, in eleven years of marriage we have achieved so much My Darling became a British Citizen.We've visited many places with Ira Yura and the grandchildren, Istanbul, the Crimea, Moldova, we have sampled the delights of Vienna, holidayed in Majorca. Personally I have seen things and been places I would never have done had it not been for this wonderful lady and her family.
Now retired and not in the best of health I am spending as much time as I can with my extended family, Lena and Nick in Shaldon, Ira and Yura in Odessa. The good news is that Ira and Yura now have a long visa meaning it is much easier for them to visit us in UK I am finding the journey to and from Odessa more difficult each time so this is wonderful news.
Wednesday, 20 June 2012
I Wanna Tell You A Story 3
Yevgeniya
Yevgeniya story starts in WW2. Her father Vassily was a heavy engineer working in a factory in Odessa, the Germans advance was underway, Stalin in a stroke of genius decided to move the factory's as far from the front line as possible, men and machinery were put on trains and sent to the wilds of Siberia where workers and machines were put in fields hooked to generators and continued their production,the buildings were erected around them. Yevgeniya's father was one such engineer his skill and experience vital to the war effort. Her mother and young brother were housed in a city called Barnaul, Yevgeniya was born there in 1946.
The war having ended the family wanted to return to Odessa, each time Vassily asked for the transfer he was refused. One day in 1948 It was a rather confused husband who found himself on a train to Odessa, his wife having been very generous with the vodka the night before.
On arrival in the city he found that the property they had lived in previously occupied by a new family, this was not unusual at this time, complain if you wish but officials were not interested, housing was at a premium so much destroyed in the war. Anyone finding an empty property moved in and claimed it officials shrug their shoulders and look the other way.
Next was to find work, factories were beginning to restart men like him were needed but he was there without permission ostensibly on holiday At first company's were reluctant to take him on, eventually the director of a large factory said he would give him work, he could stay in an unused store room. All hell broke loose, the party were furious that this man had done this without their permission,the director made the case that he was essential to restart and maintain the machinery, there being few people with his skills available, reluctantly it was agreed he could stay,as a punishment they stripped him of his party card meaning that little or no help would be given to him or his family.
Back in Barnaul Yevgeniya's mother Irina was getting ready to follow her husband. Yevgeniya's Godfather was in Barnaul,he too was from Odessa,among other things he turned boiled sugar into sweets which He sold in the Bazar, totally illegal of course, he showed Mama how to make them, which proved a big help later supplementing the family income. Anyway his mother still lived in the city she agreed to let the family share her room. So it was some months later Irina and children arrived to join her husband. Eventually the company gave them a flat near the factory which was to be her home. School was only a short walk away.
Years passed, hard times Yevgeniya says, sometimes so little to eat she would gnaw on raw potatoes, in spring a treat was to eat the sweet flowers from the Acacia Tree, she became expert at foraging for berries herbs and fruit that were safe and good to eat.
Yevgeniya was a good student excelling in most subjects,she especially loved reading, with her parents encouragement she read anything she could lay her hands on. Books from the library introduced her to classic authors from Tolstoy,Pushkin,Chekhov to Dickens,Shaw, F Scot Fitzgerald,Mark Twain,Conan Doyle,along with many more. These books gave an insight to a different world far removed from the grimness of her surroundings.
Determined to make a better life for herself,she started searching for a profession that would help her achieve this. Eventually the idea of becoming a pilot appeared a good option,her headmaster had been one in the war and maybe he encouraged her I don't know.
However she started looking for a flying school who would take her on, she was 15 at the time to young to fly, somehow father pulled a fast one on the system and got her papers which gave her age as 16. She found a gliding school prepared to take her on, it was about an hours ride from home. Instruction would have to be fitted in whenever possible which meant some of them would have to be during school hours. With connivance from her headmaster she was able to go for lessens during school time without being marked as absent, this would not have gone down well with the powers that be had they not done so. Through diligence and hard work studying and finishing her school work late into the evenings she achieved very high grades.
The course started in October, theory only, the winter weather being to bad for flying. From May onward was the actual aerial work, before this could happen Yevgeniya and all other students had to make a parachute jump from a static balloon if she failed there would be no way she could learn to fly, ”I was so scared” she says ”but I had no choice if this was to be my life I would have to do it”, this proved to be something she did not look forward to every year from then on.
Once that was out of the way she took to the air and showed a natural talent for gliding, during her second summer she started successfully taking part in competitions winning many of them. About then she had to seriously consider her options,schooling was coming to an end, there was little choice,go to a factory or the military.
With her excellent academic qualifications she chose to go to a flying Academy in The city of Khalooga, though not strictly a military establishment she would learn how to march, strip down clean and fire small arms,as well as all the other things that are deemed necessary for the military at that time. More importantly she was taught to fly and maintain powered aircraft,training on a Yak 12, greater in depth theory,navigation,and managerial skills, essential later when passing out as a flying instructor.
A life changing event took place at this time Yevgeniya met Anatoli Mykhaylov another trainee pilot they became inseparable, before their Academy years were over they were married remaining so until Anatoli’s death in 1993.
The completion of their studies found them looking for work. It was not easy finding places for married couples, eventually they got jobs at the sport flying school in Odessa teaching gliding, well not exactly: there was only work for one instructor and one mechanic, they took it in turns Genny as instructor and Anatoli as mechanic, when Yevgeniya became pregnant he took on the full time instructors role.
All was well until the school decided to go over from purely gliders to the Yak 12 suitable for aerobatic sport flying. Anatoli was unhappy with this, after much discussion it was decided he should pursue a career with Aeroflot as a commercial pilot, Genny would stay on as instructor at the school.
Once more she was highly successful, over the next decade and a half produced fine pilots two of them went on to become cosmonauts, many others went into the military flying all types of aircraft, one I know of after military service in Afghanistan became a test pilot flying the Russian version of the jump jet on and off aircraft carriers. Yevgeniya's personality is such that many of these people have stayed friends to this day.
Yevgeniya had two girls Lena and Irina during this time. Occasionally in the school holidays they would be taken to the airfield where her students would look after them if she was teaching.
Genny herself won a few competitions but as she said she was a better teacher than aerobatic pilot, a modesty which some of her students say is not true, they are full of praise and tell me that her pilot skills and teaching and had got them out of difficulty on more than one occasion.
After some twenty years the strain of flying, the stresses put on her body during the execution of the more difficult aerobatic manoeuvres began to take its toll her spine damaged through the compression G forces, (special suits were unheard of at this time). Flying accidents to people she knew finally made up her mind, she would resign.
From student at age fifteen, to over 20 years training some 250 pilots, finally director of the school was a mighty achievement,having flown Yak mark 12 up to Yak mark 52 as well as Antonov's single and twin engined, she turned her back on all this. To take up a new position at an after school club called The Children's Palace.
Held in Count Vorontsov Palace this was free to any child where they could learn anything that interested them.
Yevgeniya’s department was devoted to crafts such as model building, boats,cars, planes,dress making, needlework photography etc: As department head she was responsible for ensuring staff and materials were available,overseeing the smooth running of the school.
Married life was a struggle for them, accommodation in the city was almost non existent the rule was that each person was allowed 4 square metres of living space, they finally were able to purchase a one room apartment,sharing kitchen and toilet,with four other families, bathing was done in a communal bath house down the road. The upside was that being in the city centre everything was an easy walk away.
Anatoli was frequently absent, distances between cities can be huge making return the same day impossible, so much so he never flew outside the Soviet Union, actually I think Genny did say he once flew to Dubai.
Life was pretty good, eventually they were able to buy a Dacha on the Liman at Karolino Bugaz it was a place to get away, to clear the stifling summer heat of the city, there, for about four months,friends would visit, the children were safe and free to swim, fish, water ski, make sand castles.
The building was pretty basic a shed Genny called it with beds, the kitchen another smaller shed: although most cooking was done outside. A bucket and chuck it toilet, some sort of shower, it was very much an outdoor type of life BBQ being the favoured form of cooking, seafood was plentiful. A good scheme was at the start of summer to buy half a dozen or so chickens these would provide eggs and some meat, at the end of the holiday the remainder being frozen for meat for winter.
Most days Yevgeniya would get the early train to the city, and from there 2 buses to the flying school,
it took she said a couple of hours each way, making for a very long day. Although holidays were a generous 42 days these could only be taken in the autumn or winter, summer being the ideal time for flying, this kept her busy 7 days a week, it was fortunate her mother was able to look after the girls, of course Anatoli would be there in between his routes. Later the children's palace had a less generous 35 days a year holiday the bonus being they could be taken in the summer, so she was able to spend much more time with them.
Nothing is forever things shatter the idyll the death of her beloved Anatoli was unexpected and a terrific shock, he had been fine until his last trip. Returning home he complained of not feeling well, soon he was in hospital, Genny nursed him for two weeks but it was not to be, this Big Man, this Wonderful Father, her rock and best friend passed on.
I've jumped ahead a little, the USSR collapsed the family struggled on as best they could all their savings disappeared overnight the banks just closed their doors and that was that. Inflation became an issue, worst of all food supplies became scarce non existent and expensive, the school money became insufficient to support the family, a new plan was needed.
Yevgeniya had heard there was a company starting to bus people into Poland to the Bazaars, where goods could be traded, things hard to get in Odessa could be bought fairly cheaply and sold for a profit, this sounded like a plan. Yevgeniya being the person she was arranged with the company boss to oversee the trips, sort of making sure people payed the fare, didn't miss the bus etc, for this she not only got paid but was able to make trades of her own. It was hard work standing around in all weathers but it helped keep the family going. This continued for about 5 years,until Anatoli died. At which point Yevgeniya's body gave out,she collapsed with spinal problem brought on the doctors say by the stress put on her from G forces inherent with aerobatic flying as well as her current situation. An operation which she was told may be successful or could result in her being a permanent invalid was offered. Genny chose not to have the surgery instead for the rest of her life carried out a strict regime of exercises every morning, in time she achieved a good amount of mobility. Of course being laid up for weeks on end meant she was unable to work. By this time her girls were married, Lena had a year old son Nikoli. Two weeks after her Anatoli died Irina gave birth to a son who they named Anatoli, he was the catalyst that helped Yevgeniya cope with her troubles she channeled her energy into looking after them while her girls worked. She found caring for these babies was something she could do, a couple of people heard she was available and asked could she babysit for them, she agreed,and did so for approximately a year.
One of her charges parents wanted her to work full time for him, she felt there might be strings attached so declined, however he told her that a business friend had taken on a franchise to sell Zeptor kitchen products, if she contacted him he might give her work selling these wares. Sceptical she applied and was pleased when she was given a job, quickly acquiring knowledge of the products she was soon selling these very high quality expensive goods, first to friends and family: Soon word of mouth saw her clientele grew ever larger, so much so that she became top sales person in Odessa, as a reward she and others from the sales force were rewarded by a holiday in Cyprus.
On her return things would never be the same again the company was changing many more sales staff were being recruited the lucrative city centre was about to be served with a store in the beautiful Passage Arcade.
A new plan was called for. Once again she found a company starting to sell medicines, it was a pyramid scheme, being an early adopter she had a clear field enabling her to engage over 1k people to selling door to door, things were getting better.
Always one to do the best for the family and looking for ways to help it was decided to buy a computer a bold move by anyone's standard but she felt that her grandchildren would benefit. Thorough as ever and knowing nothing about them she embarked on a course. Of lessons soon becoming proficient she had the advantage of being able to type and use the western alphabet. One day her Seven year old grandson said “Babushka (granny) now you have computer can you find me a Dedushka (grandfather)” this coming from the little lad who had helped her through those bad times was a wake up call to her. She began thinking well maybe it is time for some me time, her girls agreed, it had been a long time to be on her own.
So it was hairdo and makeup later armed with a set of photos, she found a company website able to assist in her quest. That is how in January 2001 I was sitting in my armchair looking at her email.
The war having ended the family wanted to return to Odessa, each time Vassily asked for the transfer he was refused. One day in 1948 It was a rather confused husband who found himself on a train to Odessa, his wife having been very generous with the vodka the night before.
On arrival in the city he found that the property they had lived in previously occupied by a new family, this was not unusual at this time, complain if you wish but officials were not interested, housing was at a premium so much destroyed in the war. Anyone finding an empty property moved in and claimed it officials shrug their shoulders and look the other way.
Next was to find work, factories were beginning to restart men like him were needed but he was there without permission ostensibly on holiday At first company's were reluctant to take him on, eventually the director of a large factory said he would give him work, he could stay in an unused store room. All hell broke loose, the party were furious that this man had done this without their permission,the director made the case that he was essential to restart and maintain the machinery, there being few people with his skills available, reluctantly it was agreed he could stay,as a punishment they stripped him of his party card meaning that little or no help would be given to him or his family.
Back in Barnaul Yevgeniya's mother Irina was getting ready to follow her husband. Yevgeniya's Godfather was in Barnaul,he too was from Odessa,among other things he turned boiled sugar into sweets which He sold in the Bazar, totally illegal of course, he showed Mama how to make them, which proved a big help later supplementing the family income. Anyway his mother still lived in the city she agreed to let the family share her room. So it was some months later Irina and children arrived to join her husband. Eventually the company gave them a flat near the factory which was to be her home. School was only a short walk away.
Years passed, hard times Yevgeniya says, sometimes so little to eat she would gnaw on raw potatoes, in spring a treat was to eat the sweet flowers from the Acacia Tree, she became expert at foraging for berries herbs and fruit that were safe and good to eat.
Yevgeniya was a good student excelling in most subjects,she especially loved reading, with her parents encouragement she read anything she could lay her hands on. Books from the library introduced her to classic authors from Tolstoy,Pushkin,Chekhov to Dickens,Shaw, F Scot Fitzgerald,Mark Twain,Conan Doyle,along with many more. These books gave an insight to a different world far removed from the grimness of her surroundings.
Determined to make a better life for herself,she started searching for a profession that would help her achieve this. Eventually the idea of becoming a pilot appeared a good option,her headmaster had been one in the war and maybe he encouraged her I don't know.
However she started looking for a flying school who would take her on, she was 15 at the time to young to fly, somehow father pulled a fast one on the system and got her papers which gave her age as 16. She found a gliding school prepared to take her on, it was about an hours ride from home. Instruction would have to be fitted in whenever possible which meant some of them would have to be during school hours. With connivance from her headmaster she was able to go for lessens during school time without being marked as absent, this would not have gone down well with the powers that be had they not done so. Through diligence and hard work studying and finishing her school work late into the evenings she achieved very high grades.
The course started in October, theory only, the winter weather being to bad for flying. From May onward was the actual aerial work, before this could happen Yevgeniya and all other students had to make a parachute jump from a static balloon if she failed there would be no way she could learn to fly, ”I was so scared” she says ”but I had no choice if this was to be my life I would have to do it”, this proved to be something she did not look forward to every year from then on.
Once that was out of the way she took to the air and showed a natural talent for gliding, during her second summer she started successfully taking part in competitions winning many of them. About then she had to seriously consider her options,schooling was coming to an end, there was little choice,go to a factory or the military.
With her excellent academic qualifications she chose to go to a flying Academy in The city of Khalooga, though not strictly a military establishment she would learn how to march, strip down clean and fire small arms,as well as all the other things that are deemed necessary for the military at that time. More importantly she was taught to fly and maintain powered aircraft,training on a Yak 12, greater in depth theory,navigation,and managerial skills, essential later when passing out as a flying instructor.
A life changing event took place at this time Yevgeniya met Anatoli Mykhaylov another trainee pilot they became inseparable, before their Academy years were over they were married remaining so until Anatoli’s death in 1993.
The completion of their studies found them looking for work. It was not easy finding places for married couples, eventually they got jobs at the sport flying school in Odessa teaching gliding, well not exactly: there was only work for one instructor and one mechanic, they took it in turns Genny as instructor and Anatoli as mechanic, when Yevgeniya became pregnant he took on the full time instructors role.
All was well until the school decided to go over from purely gliders to the Yak 12 suitable for aerobatic sport flying. Anatoli was unhappy with this, after much discussion it was decided he should pursue a career with Aeroflot as a commercial pilot, Genny would stay on as instructor at the school.
Once more she was highly successful, over the next decade and a half produced fine pilots two of them went on to become cosmonauts, many others went into the military flying all types of aircraft, one I know of after military service in Afghanistan became a test pilot flying the Russian version of the jump jet on and off aircraft carriers. Yevgeniya's personality is such that many of these people have stayed friends to this day.
Yevgeniya had two girls Lena and Irina during this time. Occasionally in the school holidays they would be taken to the airfield where her students would look after them if she was teaching.
Genny herself won a few competitions but as she said she was a better teacher than aerobatic pilot, a modesty which some of her students say is not true, they are full of praise and tell me that her pilot skills and teaching and had got them out of difficulty on more than one occasion.
After some twenty years the strain of flying, the stresses put on her body during the execution of the more difficult aerobatic manoeuvres began to take its toll her spine damaged through the compression G forces, (special suits were unheard of at this time). Flying accidents to people she knew finally made up her mind, she would resign.
From student at age fifteen, to over 20 years training some 250 pilots, finally director of the school was a mighty achievement,having flown Yak mark 12 up to Yak mark 52 as well as Antonov's single and twin engined, she turned her back on all this. To take up a new position at an after school club called The Children's Palace.
Held in Count Vorontsov Palace this was free to any child where they could learn anything that interested them.
Yevgeniya’s department was devoted to crafts such as model building, boats,cars, planes,dress making, needlework photography etc: As department head she was responsible for ensuring staff and materials were available,overseeing the smooth running of the school.
Married life was a struggle for them, accommodation in the city was almost non existent the rule was that each person was allowed 4 square metres of living space, they finally were able to purchase a one room apartment,sharing kitchen and toilet,with four other families, bathing was done in a communal bath house down the road. The upside was that being in the city centre everything was an easy walk away.
Anatoli was frequently absent, distances between cities can be huge making return the same day impossible, so much so he never flew outside the Soviet Union, actually I think Genny did say he once flew to Dubai.
Life was pretty good, eventually they were able to buy a Dacha on the Liman at Karolino Bugaz it was a place to get away, to clear the stifling summer heat of the city, there, for about four months,friends would visit, the children were safe and free to swim, fish, water ski, make sand castles.
The building was pretty basic a shed Genny called it with beds, the kitchen another smaller shed: although most cooking was done outside. A bucket and chuck it toilet, some sort of shower, it was very much an outdoor type of life BBQ being the favoured form of cooking, seafood was plentiful. A good scheme was at the start of summer to buy half a dozen or so chickens these would provide eggs and some meat, at the end of the holiday the remainder being frozen for meat for winter.
Most days Yevgeniya would get the early train to the city, and from there 2 buses to the flying school,
it took she said a couple of hours each way, making for a very long day. Although holidays were a generous 42 days these could only be taken in the autumn or winter, summer being the ideal time for flying, this kept her busy 7 days a week, it was fortunate her mother was able to look after the girls, of course Anatoli would be there in between his routes. Later the children's palace had a less generous 35 days a year holiday the bonus being they could be taken in the summer, so she was able to spend much more time with them.
Nothing is forever things shatter the idyll the death of her beloved Anatoli was unexpected and a terrific shock, he had been fine until his last trip. Returning home he complained of not feeling well, soon he was in hospital, Genny nursed him for two weeks but it was not to be, this Big Man, this Wonderful Father, her rock and best friend passed on.
I've jumped ahead a little, the USSR collapsed the family struggled on as best they could all their savings disappeared overnight the banks just closed their doors and that was that. Inflation became an issue, worst of all food supplies became scarce non existent and expensive, the school money became insufficient to support the family, a new plan was needed.
Yevgeniya had heard there was a company starting to bus people into Poland to the Bazaars, where goods could be traded, things hard to get in Odessa could be bought fairly cheaply and sold for a profit, this sounded like a plan. Yevgeniya being the person she was arranged with the company boss to oversee the trips, sort of making sure people payed the fare, didn't miss the bus etc, for this she not only got paid but was able to make trades of her own. It was hard work standing around in all weathers but it helped keep the family going. This continued for about 5 years,until Anatoli died. At which point Yevgeniya's body gave out,she collapsed with spinal problem brought on the doctors say by the stress put on her from G forces inherent with aerobatic flying as well as her current situation. An operation which she was told may be successful or could result in her being a permanent invalid was offered. Genny chose not to have the surgery instead for the rest of her life carried out a strict regime of exercises every morning, in time she achieved a good amount of mobility. Of course being laid up for weeks on end meant she was unable to work. By this time her girls were married, Lena had a year old son Nikoli. Two weeks after her Anatoli died Irina gave birth to a son who they named Anatoli, he was the catalyst that helped Yevgeniya cope with her troubles she channeled her energy into looking after them while her girls worked. She found caring for these babies was something she could do, a couple of people heard she was available and asked could she babysit for them, she agreed,and did so for approximately a year.
One of her charges parents wanted her to work full time for him, she felt there might be strings attached so declined, however he told her that a business friend had taken on a franchise to sell Zeptor kitchen products, if she contacted him he might give her work selling these wares. Sceptical she applied and was pleased when she was given a job, quickly acquiring knowledge of the products she was soon selling these very high quality expensive goods, first to friends and family: Soon word of mouth saw her clientele grew ever larger, so much so that she became top sales person in Odessa, as a reward she and others from the sales force were rewarded by a holiday in Cyprus.
On her return things would never be the same again the company was changing many more sales staff were being recruited the lucrative city centre was about to be served with a store in the beautiful Passage Arcade.
A new plan was called for. Once again she found a company starting to sell medicines, it was a pyramid scheme, being an early adopter she had a clear field enabling her to engage over 1k people to selling door to door, things were getting better.
Always one to do the best for the family and looking for ways to help it was decided to buy a computer a bold move by anyone's standard but she felt that her grandchildren would benefit. Thorough as ever and knowing nothing about them she embarked on a course. Of lessons soon becoming proficient she had the advantage of being able to type and use the western alphabet. One day her Seven year old grandson said “Babushka (granny) now you have computer can you find me a Dedushka (grandfather)” this coming from the little lad who had helped her through those bad times was a wake up call to her. She began thinking well maybe it is time for some me time, her girls agreed, it had been a long time to be on her own.
So it was hairdo and makeup later armed with a set of photos, she found a company website able to assist in her quest. That is how in January 2001 I was sitting in my armchair looking at her email.
Wednesday, 11 April 2012
Breakfast at Sainsburys
We ordered breakfast at the Banbury store on Wednesday April 11, 1 standard breakfast,1 scrambled egg with bacon plus 2 pots of tea. I was amazed to be told "sorry we have sold out of scrambled eggs, we can do 2 fried eggs though." you cannot make scrambled eggs I said? "No'"came the reply "they come in FROZEN and we have sold out," " and you cannot make them yourself?" "Not allowed came the reply." what a crazy thing ? It was on the board for sale.
To add insult to injury when pouring the tea the pot was so badly designed about one third of a cup went into the saucer and spilt onto the table. Breakfast arrived the lady was full of apologise and offered to refresh the pot we declined but I thought that was fair enough. The meals were ok about the right size for the price, however the fresh tomatoes were tasteless and almost inedable I needed a microscope to find the sausage.
Enough complaining, praise for the staff who were polite pleasant and very helpful just a shame they cannot scramble eggs.
Monday, 2 April 2012
I Wanna Tell You A Story Part 2
Part 2
First impressions of the city are slightly blurred as we rattle and role in the old Lada taxi toward Yevgeniya's flat in Korolova. Huddled together we are trying to talk to each other its proving difficult we are using sign languge speaking very slowly, somehow we sort of understand.
First impressions of the city are slightly blurred as we rattle and role in the old Lada taxi toward Yevgeniya's flat in Korolova. Huddled together we are trying to talk to each other its proving difficult we are using sign languge speaking very slowly, somehow we sort of understand.
Yevgeniya is talking in Russian to the taxi driver giving him instructions, the fact is I have no idea where we are going or what she's saying, she senses my questions and squeezes my hand as if to tell me don't worry everything is going to be fine, I believe her I believe everything she says.
Soon the car turns off the main road into a collection of blocks of flats this is our destination.Climbing into the lift, four levels later Yevgeniya is unlocking the door,We are greeted by three very excited young boys Yevgenia’s grandchildren, Tolik 7, Kola 8, and Genya 4. Irena and Lena her daughters are there waiting to greet us too,soon they are having an animated Conversation, the gist of which is about dinner. This is my introduction to Ukraine hospitality, I was somewhat apprehensive but need not have worried the food was delicious. I had my first taste of wine from Moldova and Ukraine it was not to bad at all. To my relief I find that Lena has a small amount of English so at last I could talk to them a little. After dinner we sat at the computer where using a translation programme we painstakingly got a dialog going. After a while Yevgeniya disappears and returns with a package we open it, inside is a portable translator, it's so clever, type in your sentence click Russian and bang there are your words done, same the other way Yevgeniya types Russian and there it is English, at last we are free, I ask why she waited until now. she smiles and says ”I wanted to give you a nice surprise.”
Next morning after breakfast making our way to the bus stop we got on a maxi-taxi to the city centre. I discover there is a very comprehensive well used public transport service, Trolley buses and Trams run everywhere as well as very old diesel buses belching black smoke, no worries about pollution there then.
It's about a thirty minute ride about 15 kilometres. I now get a real chance to take in my surroundings it looks as though everything is grey from the sky,the earth, the trees, to the blocks of flats,and even the people, it's odd a strange thing I noticed that around every tree for about a metre or so up the trunk was covered in white paint Yevgeniya says its a bug repellent I think the translater is screwed up on that one. Not a trace of green it's been a hard winter spring is only now kicking in. Everywhere folks are going about their business the bazaar and street surrounding it are full, street traders have their stalls laid out the earth around them strewn with secondhand goods, clothes, shoes, you name it it's there, I am told they work from before dawn to after dark for very little money. These are the lowest part of the buying trade next would be the bazaar,small shops and kiosks, finally the supermarkets with the larger more expensive shops in the city centre. A somewhat simplistic view but thats how I saw it then.
As we drove on I experienced a very different way of doing things someone tapped me on my shoulder and thrust some notes into my hand Yevgeniya seeing my bewilderment took them from me tapped the person in front and gave them the money, a few moments later the change came down the bus in the same way, likewise Yevgeniya bought our tickets,”how does the driver know what to charge?” I asked simple the fare was the same throughout the route about 30 pence. There were recognised stops on route however the driver would stop and pick anyone up if they stood and held up their hand, folks would hop on and off at random as the journey suited them,how different from our controlled and over regulated service I thought but it works the buses were always full. I think there was some sort of time table however when a bus was full the driver set off there was so many of them that if you missed one there was soon another to take its place.
The Maxi-taxi rolls and bumps its way along the potholed and cracked highway the winter has played havoc with the surface already teams of menders are busy with their rollers and steaming buckets of tar.
We pass the prison grey and foreboding its walls strung with razor wire, carry on by the defunct racecourse, I see my first shopping mall all shiny black glass and chrome we go there on another visit the windows are full the shelves are sparse. Now past the railway station razed to the ground by the German retreat and rebuilt brick for brick to its original state,then into Pushkin street. This is different: the greyness is lifting. A cobbled street lined with Plane trees, long and wide, flanked on either side by some very old tired buildings. Occasionally a gem arises, among them in this instance a church painted blue and white it's onion shaped minarets covered in gold, outside are sellers of palm as it is almost Easter Sunday, further along is the Philharmonica Hall a severe looking place, in contrast to the Hotel Krasnaya The Red Hotel named for the red banner of the revolution. It's more pink than red the plasterwork is superb highlighted in white situated on the opposite side of the road. Pushkin street ends at the Maritime Museum and the Beautiful Opera House the gem in Odessa crown.
The bus turns off before there to terminate in Martinovska Square. It's now a short walk to the main shopping street called Deribasovskaya this is a wonderful old avenue named after one of the the founders of Odessa. Here is to be found the park bustling with stalls selling souvenirs and craftwork of all types it's a tourist honey pot, at last the sun is shining we take an outside seat at a cafe blaring out Russian pop music, I don't care I am being assaulted by sounds and smells alien to me I am so loving this. I have my first taste of Ukrainian black beer, now I'm not a beer drinker preferring spirits and wine but this I could easily get used to. This where I find that Yevgeniya has a round bottom she can't sit still for five minutes. ”Come on let's go” she said. This proves to be the pattern for the days following.
We walked everywhere, along Prymorsky Boulevard, with the City Hall at one end and the Vorontsov Palace the other, in the middle the Potemkin Staircase all 192 of them, The boulevard is a popular stroll, it's long, wide,lined,with Linden,Maple and Sweet Chestnut trees offering cool shade in the summer heat, with views across the harbour and docks to the lighthouse and beyond.
Yevgeniya took me to many beaches including Arcadia Beach and Golden Beach amongst other attractions along the way.
I loved the opera house refurbished inside all red plush and gold leaf, it is said to be modelled on the Vienna Opera house I cannot comment on that but it sure is beautiful, outside its a different story due to subsidence caused by the Catacombs which undermine its fabric, the building is in urgent need of repair fund raising is ongoing as this will be a very costly job.
The catacombs are a labyrinth of tunnels undermining large parts of the city. Builders carved out the limestone into blocks used in the construction of the city it is soft and has to be rendered with plaster, part of the reason for the distinctive look of the properties (In my opinion). During the war the partisans lived in there storing arms and ammunition to Harass the enemy.
Odessa is well catered for culturally from the Opera House,wonderfully acoustic Philharmonic Hall, Pushkin Museum, there are majestic churches, a planetarium, maritime museum, art galleries so much to see so hard to remember it all. Throughout, Yevgeniya is a fount of knowledge much better than any guide book, she loves this city, knows all the best cafes and shops every little street and courtyard constantly pointing to details most others would miss.
If I had to choose my favourite places, they would be Deribasovskay with its little park, Primorski Boulevard, the Opera House, Restaurant Kumanets. Where?. I kept this one until last, it's a place where the menu is exclusively Ukranish dishes, the translations of which into English can be hilarious, the food is interesting really tasty,the presentation is excellent staff dressed in traditional costume, the decor pseudo peasant cottage. Ok so it's there to attract visitors, however the locals love it too. Genny tells me the name derives from a traditional cooking pot used for the storage of cold or cooked food, it could be used from the oven to the table.This was where we chose to celebrate after buying Gennys engagement ring, therefore will always hold a special affection for us.
Engagement ring? Yes: it was always my intention to ask Yevgeniya to marry me. A few days after my arrival I did so and to my great joy she said Da (yes).
Soon the car turns off the main road into a collection of blocks of flats this is our destination.Climbing into the lift, four levels later Yevgeniya is unlocking the door,We are greeted by three very excited young boys Yevgenia’s grandchildren, Tolik 7, Kola 8, and Genya 4. Irena and Lena her daughters are there waiting to greet us too,soon they are having an animated Conversation, the gist of which is about dinner. This is my introduction to Ukraine hospitality, I was somewhat apprehensive but need not have worried the food was delicious. I had my first taste of wine from Moldova and Ukraine it was not to bad at all. To my relief I find that Lena has a small amount of English so at last I could talk to them a little. After dinner we sat at the computer where using a translation programme we painstakingly got a dialog going. After a while Yevgeniya disappears and returns with a package we open it, inside is a portable translator, it's so clever, type in your sentence click Russian and bang there are your words done, same the other way Yevgeniya types Russian and there it is English, at last we are free, I ask why she waited until now. she smiles and says ”I wanted to give you a nice surprise.”
Next morning after breakfast making our way to the bus stop we got on a maxi-taxi to the city centre. I discover there is a very comprehensive well used public transport service, Trolley buses and Trams run everywhere as well as very old diesel buses belching black smoke, no worries about pollution there then.
It's about a thirty minute ride about 15 kilometres. I now get a real chance to take in my surroundings it looks as though everything is grey from the sky,the earth, the trees, to the blocks of flats,and even the people, it's odd a strange thing I noticed that around every tree for about a metre or so up the trunk was covered in white paint Yevgeniya says its a bug repellent I think the translater is screwed up on that one. Not a trace of green it's been a hard winter spring is only now kicking in. Everywhere folks are going about their business the bazaar and street surrounding it are full, street traders have their stalls laid out the earth around them strewn with secondhand goods, clothes, shoes, you name it it's there, I am told they work from before dawn to after dark for very little money. These are the lowest part of the buying trade next would be the bazaar,small shops and kiosks, finally the supermarkets with the larger more expensive shops in the city centre. A somewhat simplistic view but thats how I saw it then.
As we drove on I experienced a very different way of doing things someone tapped me on my shoulder and thrust some notes into my hand Yevgeniya seeing my bewilderment took them from me tapped the person in front and gave them the money, a few moments later the change came down the bus in the same way, likewise Yevgeniya bought our tickets,”how does the driver know what to charge?” I asked simple the fare was the same throughout the route about 30 pence. There were recognised stops on route however the driver would stop and pick anyone up if they stood and held up their hand, folks would hop on and off at random as the journey suited them,how different from our controlled and over regulated service I thought but it works the buses were always full. I think there was some sort of time table however when a bus was full the driver set off there was so many of them that if you missed one there was soon another to take its place.
The Maxi-taxi rolls and bumps its way along the potholed and cracked highway the winter has played havoc with the surface already teams of menders are busy with their rollers and steaming buckets of tar.
We pass the prison grey and foreboding its walls strung with razor wire, carry on by the defunct racecourse, I see my first shopping mall all shiny black glass and chrome we go there on another visit the windows are full the shelves are sparse. Now past the railway station razed to the ground by the German retreat and rebuilt brick for brick to its original state,then into Pushkin street. This is different: the greyness is lifting. A cobbled street lined with Plane trees, long and wide, flanked on either side by some very old tired buildings. Occasionally a gem arises, among them in this instance a church painted blue and white it's onion shaped minarets covered in gold, outside are sellers of palm as it is almost Easter Sunday, further along is the Philharmonica Hall a severe looking place, in contrast to the Hotel Krasnaya The Red Hotel named for the red banner of the revolution. It's more pink than red the plasterwork is superb highlighted in white situated on the opposite side of the road. Pushkin street ends at the Maritime Museum and the Beautiful Opera House the gem in Odessa crown.
The bus turns off before there to terminate in Martinovska Square. It's now a short walk to the main shopping street called Deribasovskaya this is a wonderful old avenue named after one of the the founders of Odessa. Here is to be found the park bustling with stalls selling souvenirs and craftwork of all types it's a tourist honey pot, at last the sun is shining we take an outside seat at a cafe blaring out Russian pop music, I don't care I am being assaulted by sounds and smells alien to me I am so loving this. I have my first taste of Ukrainian black beer, now I'm not a beer drinker preferring spirits and wine but this I could easily get used to. This where I find that Yevgeniya has a round bottom she can't sit still for five minutes. ”Come on let's go” she said. This proves to be the pattern for the days following.
We walked everywhere, along Prymorsky Boulevard, with the City Hall at one end and the Vorontsov Palace the other, in the middle the Potemkin Staircase all 192 of them, The boulevard is a popular stroll, it's long, wide,lined,with Linden,Maple and Sweet Chestnut trees offering cool shade in the summer heat, with views across the harbour and docks to the lighthouse and beyond.
Yevgeniya took me to many beaches including Arcadia Beach and Golden Beach amongst other attractions along the way.
I loved the opera house refurbished inside all red plush and gold leaf, it is said to be modelled on the Vienna Opera house I cannot comment on that but it sure is beautiful, outside its a different story due to subsidence caused by the Catacombs which undermine its fabric, the building is in urgent need of repair fund raising is ongoing as this will be a very costly job.
The catacombs are a labyrinth of tunnels undermining large parts of the city. Builders carved out the limestone into blocks used in the construction of the city it is soft and has to be rendered with plaster, part of the reason for the distinctive look of the properties (In my opinion). During the war the partisans lived in there storing arms and ammunition to Harass the enemy.
Odessa is well catered for culturally from the Opera House,wonderfully acoustic Philharmonic Hall, Pushkin Museum, there are majestic churches, a planetarium, maritime museum, art galleries so much to see so hard to remember it all. Throughout, Yevgeniya is a fount of knowledge much better than any guide book, she loves this city, knows all the best cafes and shops every little street and courtyard constantly pointing to details most others would miss.
If I had to choose my favourite places, they would be Deribasovskay with its little park, Primorski Boulevard, the Opera House, Restaurant Kumanets. Where?. I kept this one until last, it's a place where the menu is exclusively Ukranish dishes, the translations of which into English can be hilarious, the food is interesting really tasty,the presentation is excellent staff dressed in traditional costume, the decor pseudo peasant cottage. Ok so it's there to attract visitors, however the locals love it too. Genny tells me the name derives from a traditional cooking pot used for the storage of cold or cooked food, it could be used from the oven to the table.This was where we chose to celebrate after buying Gennys engagement ring, therefore will always hold a special affection for us.
Engagement ring? Yes: it was always my intention to ask Yevgeniya to marry me. A few days after my arrival I did so and to my great joy she said Da (yes).
Sunday, 1 April 2012
I Wanna Tell You A Story
Part 1
Eleven years ago I was sitting in my chair looking at this email I had minutes before received. No I go to fast.A few days before I had been playing about on the net and came across this website asking if I wanted to find a friend, sort of a pen pal I thought. Ok for a laugh I filled out the form not too truthfully as you do, and sent it off. I was amazed that anybody bothered to answer I got about six or so replys. A quick glance through them showed nothing of interest, putting it out of my mind I carried on as usual. Some few day later I took another look,there were two emails the first was the same as the others, women looking for rich husbands well that was my impression. The second just leapt off the screen at me,and thats how I came to be sitting in my chair looking at the email. It was written in a sort of broken English and came from a lady in Odessa Ukraine, (I thought where the hell is Ukraine was it a cold blasted semi barren place up north of Russia somewhere,) honestly I had no idea.She wrote a little about herself telling me she was fifty four years old a widow with two adult girls and th
ree grandsons. Her name was Yevgeniya she was looking to find someone to write to so that she could improve her almost non existent English.
Attached was a picture of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
Always a sucker for a pretty face I thought strewth I have to reply. So a clean shirt and tie, haircut and shave later I had a new photo taken and attached to my next email. Yevgeniya must not have been to put off by the sight,the next day her reply thanked me for the picture.Up to this point we had been sending the emails through a third party this was to protect our privacy,we both agreed to send each other our addresses and even phone numbers to speed up the turn round processes. From then on it was a question of sending emails more frequently initially couple of times a week but after while it became every day. At first I could not understand why her replies took so long, the answer was simple every word had to be translated from English to Russian and then writing to me in Russian before translation to English a complicated process and not without it's humour, one letter was talking about having visitors that evening, Yevgeniya was saying that she had been busy all day cooking and and preparing for the event, ”I am very clever girl” she said ”I make a very good mistress”
The more I got to know really about this delightful lady the more fascinated I was by her, for what she done and achieved throughout her life, I soon found myself becoming more and more attracted to her. I had already fallen for her picture and now I was falling in love with the person, to my great fortune I found the feeling was reciprocated we both had very strong feelings for each other almost from day one. Within two months it became apparent that we needed to take this relationship further, we had to meet Jenny was all for coming to the UK to see me, fortunately her family had other ideas and said no, if you are serious about this person he can visit you here, we will give him a holiday and you can get to meet him greet him and get to know him better.
So it was settled, I was to go to Odessa a place I knew not where, to meet a lady I desperately wanted to see. I had no passport I had not been abroad ever, to a country with language I could not understand flying from UK via Vienna how I was going to manage speaking no language other than English I did not know, it was a somewhat terrifying experience,but one I was more than willing to try.
April 7th Nick my driver has bought me to terminal 2 at London Heathrow I am about to fly to Odessa.
Nerves what nerves? I can't find my passport, my tickets are muddled up, I go through screening and forget my hand luggage, check,double check, what gate, where is it? What time does the gate open? How much time do I have? We are boarding where is my seat? 17 18 19 this one I think 19E.Now we are moving then Whoosh!!we are racing down the runway Cor! This not half bad, like racing down the road in my Buggy,only not quite so noisy. 30,000 feet the coffee and breakfast arrives proper knives and forks china plates cups and saucers English breakfast (how things have changed?) we drop into Vienna an hour or so between flights enough time to walk to the immigration gate. In the air again onwards to Yevgeniya more food lunch this time a couple of glasses of red wine, I am calmer excited somewhat apprehensive about the immigration and customs at the airport.There is a form to fill out for the customs, what have I to declare? how much money do I have? how long and where am I staying? ”Oh help!” I was thinking ”what sort of a place am I coming to?”
The plane lands taxis and stops not at a gate but in the middle of the apron, the doors open I make my way out of the aircraft, bloody hell! there's a man with a gun at the bottom of the steps, I try not to catch his eye but cant help it, he glares at me and motions with his gun to move on. The transport to the terminal building is an old very old rickety bus we race off to the door.
The terminal is an old building built in the fifties poor lighting, brown woodwork and paint, austere I should say!! uniformed personnel are everywhere, pretty women, grim looking fellows.
I soon find out that nobody Queues its a mad scramble to get to the desks, no problems there I am soon waiting for my luggage.
At last I am tugging my baggage to the exit, a uniformed guy calls me over to his desk, more questions fired at me in rapid Russian, he soon finds out its a waste of time and calls over a colleague he speaks halting English, ”what have you in your bags?” ”clothes and a few presents” I reply ”how much cash do you have?” ”a few hundred dollars and some travellers cheques” ”why are you here?” I am meeting my girlfriend she is in the arrivals waiting for me.” at last a smile ”ah!” He gestured toward the exit.
Like a startled rabbit I emerge through the door into the hubbub of the arrivals hall, people were jostling shouting offering Taxis, I push my way through the mob, now what? John? The voice behind me is soft, I turn and there she is,good grief I had not expected anyone quite so tall I look up and there is that beautiful smile I have so wanted to see ”Yevgeniya?” ”Da I am she” we have our first of many kisses and hugs, ”I have taxi waiting let's go.”
Monday, 19 March 2012
Edd The Garden And Me
On Sunday Mother's Day Edd came over with large bunch of flowers for Genny which was very nice, and to help me in the garden.
The garden has been needing a facelift for sometime and it was decided to replace the raised borders timber work with new decking, this turned out to be a much bigger job than we first thought, the Timber was rotten and had to virtually replace everything, and though initially it was thought we might get away with facing what was already there in the end it all had to come out, the job actually took more than just yesterday Edward came over a fortnight ago and spent the whole day ripping out and replacing the woodwork.
Yesterday was the final finishing touches which took the best part of four to five hours but now its complete looks very good indeed. I think Ed said there was one board and the garden gate to be repaired so that's pretty good, then it's a matter of planting up getting ready for the summer.
The garden has been needing a facelift for sometime and it was decided to replace the raised borders timber work with new decking, this turned out to be a much bigger job than we first thought, the Timber was rotten and had to virtually replace everything, and though initially it was thought we might get away with facing what was already there in the end it all had to come out, the job actually took more than just yesterday Edward came over a fortnight ago and spent the whole day ripping out and replacing the woodwork.
Yesterday was the final finishing touches which took the best part of four to five hours but now its complete looks very good indeed. I think Ed said there was one board and the garden gate to be repaired so that's pretty good, then it's a matter of planting up getting ready for the summer.
Sunday, 18 March 2012
My New iPad
Today is Friday 16 March, my new iPad arrived. Oh boy! it is everything people have said it would be the screen is absolutely superb.
Most of the apps that I had downloaded in preparation for the arrival of this iPad have scaled to the retina display very well, even the ones that have not been altered so far look extremely good, I do however take issue with a couple of them, the BBC News and the Daily Mail newspaper apps I think look better using the web browser pages, I prefer the way they look on them and they do seem easier to use.
I have so far only played with the cameras that built-in they certainly do seem to be very good certainly the back facing camera and at 1080p video is absolutely superb, although you can look a bit of a dork waving this large screen in front of your face.
I am writing this post using the dictation built into the keyboard, it works very well if there are any mistakes when this is posted it is not my fault it is the fault of the dictation on this iPAD. Dictation is available throughout the apps on this iPad which is very useful but it does not like to fill in email addresses, or I have yet to learn the commands for writing figures numbers and symbols.
One of my gripes with the operating system is that in email there is no filtering allowed for junk mail, I have yet to discover the best way to prevent this from occurring I think I'm going to have to use an email client which is a blooming nuisance, but I have to figure this out and set it up.
One thing that I really am getting into and finding extremely useful is iCloud,I have in conjunction with the iPad bought new Apple TV dongle this allows me to stream content from my computer,my iPhone and my iPad straight onto my television. The added bonus being that with Apple TVcan connect directly to lots of applications Netflix, Youtube, Podcast, Movies and Music Videos many applications just a click of a button straight onto the screen, I had an original Apple TV years ago but this is way ahead of that, the resolution with this 1080p now is very very good even my photos look fine the content may be rubbish but the pictures look great.
There is a new processor for this iPad which means it runs very very fast indeed and of course using a solid-state drive, start-up is almost instantaneous.
Suffice it to say I am more than Delighted with the iPad and I would like to thank my family for giving it to me as my 70th Birthday and Christmas present I intend to get a great deal of enjoyment from it.
Once again thank you all very much indeed.
Friday, 24 February 2012
Television What Television
I am a watcher of TV have done ever since Dad came home and announced Smiths Radio in Cirencester were delivering a 17inch GEC console model the next day, which would be in time for our Queens Coronation a week or so later. What a beautiful thing it was, floor standing with this big screen at the top a large 12inch speaker underneath 2 rotary knobs on the side an on/off switch and volume control, all encased in a highly polished walnut case the whole thing weighed a ton. I seem to remember running all the way home from school, don't you dare touch that til your father comes home was the command, happy days happy days.
What a revelation this was, I had never been to the cinema the thought scared me, but to see this wondrous thing in the comfort of our living room was to a 12 year old Magical, (mind you after the first day when word got out we had a TV the room was always filled with visitors.) and I loved it.
Thoughts of playing outside and missing the Grove Family,Whirlygig, Amos and Andy, the Saturday night Variety shows, gone, Mum had to pull the plug out to get me to go out. I was probably not that bad but you get the idea.
Saturday afternoon Sports, all the stuff Peter Dimmock, and Paul Fox had the foresight to sign up and start broadcasting. The plays and pantomimes, oh! and the Francis Durbridge serials, the variety of material was enormous. The BBC Charter said it was to Inform, Educate and Entertain, and it did.
Those were the days of the continuity announcers Jasmine Bligh, Mary Malcolm, Sylvia Peters, Peter Haig, Mac Hobley, there to introduce or fill in and inform when there was a break in transmission, yes the potters wheel and the ploughing horses.
So much of this stuff was live. If I was following a serial how frustrating it was to miss an episode especially the last one, I wished I could have recorded them to watch later, never thought that would happen, Now there are dozens of ways.
Over the years there have been many Landmarks in the history of television the Coronation, BBC2,the Introduction of Colour, Start of ITV, for me the Moon Landing probably the biggest.
What about News? ah yes what about it? it has grown from the straightforward reporting of events around the world given gravitas by the likes of Frank Philips, Alva Liddel, Dennis Mitchel, to the monster it is today, spewing out "News" filling out time until spitting out a real story then covering it to the point of exhaustion, by we viewers. Don't get me wrong news is important vital in fact, bulletins must be on during the day, however there are far easier quicker and more immediate ways to get it. Sorry I am straying off topic a bit, its just that I am not interested in what these popstars footballers and minor or come to that major so called celebrities have to say, or why their stories make headlines, for me this isn't news and should be put in a magazine type programe please note.
I have always been a watcher and listener to the BBC, I admire their training skills they have produced some of the finest technicians and broadcaster in the world, they are innovative and visionary, developing amongst others Teletext, and the iPlayer their web site is superb.
So what is all this leading to? Well for me it is sad to see this once great corporation tearing itself to bits. I don't care what the suits may say, I have witnessed a steady erosion in the fabric of television at the BEEB, events, people, and shows which should never have gone from our screens let go. Seeing the company get heavier and heavier at the top an inverted triangle if you like, money
haemorrhaging from everywhere. The end result is no cash for what really matters the Programes. You see I don't really care that much what top Stars get paid as long as they are worth it and deliver the goods. What I am looking for is plain honest to goodness interesting informative and entertaining Programs, I feel I am just not getting that.
I am so sad looking at the 24 hour schedules especially from 9am to about 7pm weekdays virtually everything is a repeat, not just once but every few weeks the same old dross is dredged again and again and again. So much so that I hardly turn the set on until middle evening. If you must repeat why not the previous 12 hours, shift workers and so on would benefit.
Why this obsession with soap operas? it's ridiculous that almost everyday of the week time is given over to these programs, they clog the schedules preventing other stuff airing, Purlease give us a break.
As for the weekends! forget it same old same old, saturday night is a farce I used to look forward to settling down for a night of good old entertainment, if I am lucky there might be a couple of hours of new stuff otherwise its the same old tired worn out done to death things like Casualty the National Lottery Show and repeat after repeat.
I fail to understand this chase for ratings, Why? you get your money whatever you do, spend it on commissioning good programmes there are loads of talented people full of ideas desperately trying to get stuff on the air, do it, try it, what does it matter if the programs fail there will be gems out there, forget asking the public what they want, how do we know until we see it. I would imagine the things that are so popular today were a gamble before somebody had the courage to give them the go ahead, My feeling is if they are good enough they will be a success, people will come, Fools and Horses, Dads Army were slow to ignite. I think in todays climate they would have been dropped from the schedules, what a loss that would have been.
What is so wrong with American programs? why can't we have some decent ones? what was one of the biggest shows on british TV? "Dallas", years ago the airwaves would have been dead without the sound of Sgt Bilko, Startrek in all its iterations and so on, I agree that it's stupid to run all 245 episodes of murder she wrote back to back or diagnosis murder, and many others, once a week for a season is sensible why use them as time fillers?
I fail to understand the reason for BBCs 3 and 4. BBC2 was always the channel for alternative programs so I ask why BBC3 BBC4? If there has to be a third channel why not make it for sports coverage with the red button (another bbc inovation) many events can be covered simultaneously.
Do we really need 3 childrens channels? 1 maybe, put the kids stuff back on BBC1 where it belongs between 3pm and 6pm. Where are the classic serials? Things that parents can look at and share with their children.
So thats about it I could be more constructive in my criticism but thats for another time.
To sum up my conclusion is that the BBC do not care about their viewers sorry Beeb
My report would read not trying hard enough could do much better
What a revelation this was, I had never been to the cinema the thought scared me, but to see this wondrous thing in the comfort of our living room was to a 12 year old Magical, (mind you after the first day when word got out we had a TV the room was always filled with visitors.) and I loved it.
Thoughts of playing outside and missing the Grove Family,Whirlygig, Amos and Andy, the Saturday night Variety shows, gone, Mum had to pull the plug out to get me to go out. I was probably not that bad but you get the idea.
Saturday afternoon Sports, all the stuff Peter Dimmock, and Paul Fox had the foresight to sign up and start broadcasting. The plays and pantomimes, oh! and the Francis Durbridge serials, the variety of material was enormous. The BBC Charter said it was to Inform, Educate and Entertain, and it did.
Those were the days of the continuity announcers Jasmine Bligh, Mary Malcolm, Sylvia Peters, Peter Haig, Mac Hobley, there to introduce or fill in and inform when there was a break in transmission, yes the potters wheel and the ploughing horses.
So much of this stuff was live. If I was following a serial how frustrating it was to miss an episode especially the last one, I wished I could have recorded them to watch later, never thought that would happen, Now there are dozens of ways.
Over the years there have been many Landmarks in the history of television the Coronation, BBC2,the Introduction of Colour, Start of ITV, for me the Moon Landing probably the biggest.
What about News? ah yes what about it? it has grown from the straightforward reporting of events around the world given gravitas by the likes of Frank Philips, Alva Liddel, Dennis Mitchel, to the monster it is today, spewing out "News" filling out time until spitting out a real story then covering it to the point of exhaustion, by we viewers. Don't get me wrong news is important vital in fact, bulletins must be on during the day, however there are far easier quicker and more immediate ways to get it. Sorry I am straying off topic a bit, its just that I am not interested in what these popstars footballers and minor or come to that major so called celebrities have to say, or why their stories make headlines, for me this isn't news and should be put in a magazine type programe please note.
I have always been a watcher and listener to the BBC, I admire their training skills they have produced some of the finest technicians and broadcaster in the world, they are innovative and visionary, developing amongst others Teletext, and the iPlayer their web site is superb.
So what is all this leading to? Well for me it is sad to see this once great corporation tearing itself to bits. I don't care what the suits may say, I have witnessed a steady erosion in the fabric of television at the BEEB, events, people, and shows which should never have gone from our screens let go. Seeing the company get heavier and heavier at the top an inverted triangle if you like, money
haemorrhaging from everywhere. The end result is no cash for what really matters the Programes. You see I don't really care that much what top Stars get paid as long as they are worth it and deliver the goods. What I am looking for is plain honest to goodness interesting informative and entertaining Programs, I feel I am just not getting that.
I am so sad looking at the 24 hour schedules especially from 9am to about 7pm weekdays virtually everything is a repeat, not just once but every few weeks the same old dross is dredged again and again and again. So much so that I hardly turn the set on until middle evening. If you must repeat why not the previous 12 hours, shift workers and so on would benefit.
Why this obsession with soap operas? it's ridiculous that almost everyday of the week time is given over to these programs, they clog the schedules preventing other stuff airing, Purlease give us a break.
As for the weekends! forget it same old same old, saturday night is a farce I used to look forward to settling down for a night of good old entertainment, if I am lucky there might be a couple of hours of new stuff otherwise its the same old tired worn out done to death things like Casualty the National Lottery Show and repeat after repeat.
I fail to understand this chase for ratings, Why? you get your money whatever you do, spend it on commissioning good programmes there are loads of talented people full of ideas desperately trying to get stuff on the air, do it, try it, what does it matter if the programs fail there will be gems out there, forget asking the public what they want, how do we know until we see it. I would imagine the things that are so popular today were a gamble before somebody had the courage to give them the go ahead, My feeling is if they are good enough they will be a success, people will come, Fools and Horses, Dads Army were slow to ignite. I think in todays climate they would have been dropped from the schedules, what a loss that would have been.
What is so wrong with American programs? why can't we have some decent ones? what was one of the biggest shows on british TV? "Dallas", years ago the airwaves would have been dead without the sound of Sgt Bilko, Startrek in all its iterations and so on, I agree that it's stupid to run all 245 episodes of murder she wrote back to back or diagnosis murder, and many others, once a week for a season is sensible why use them as time fillers?
I fail to understand the reason for BBCs 3 and 4. BBC2 was always the channel for alternative programs so I ask why BBC3 BBC4? If there has to be a third channel why not make it for sports coverage with the red button (another bbc inovation) many events can be covered simultaneously.
Do we really need 3 childrens channels? 1 maybe, put the kids stuff back on BBC1 where it belongs between 3pm and 6pm. Where are the classic serials? Things that parents can look at and share with their children.
So thats about it I could be more constructive in my criticism but thats for another time.
To sum up my conclusion is that the BBC do not care about their viewers sorry Beeb
My report would read not trying hard enough could do much better
Monday, 6 February 2012
Ta Da
At last I have finally managed to sort out the slideshow problems I was having, so hopefully all is now well. I had to go back to the beginning of this blog and reinstall all of the files leastways I hope I have.
So there you are hope you see or read something interesting.
So there you are hope you see or read something interesting.
Sunday, 15 January 2012
Christmas
At last Christmas and New Year are finally over the Tree is dissected put in plastic bags and ceremonially burnt, all the decorations are safely boxed and tucked away. The celebrations seem never ending until I worked out we were using both the Julian and Gregorian calenders. Much as I enjoy and even look forward to the festivities I must say that I have had a surfit this time. We still have one more party to attend next friday Our friend Vassa also reaches the 70 land mark.
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