Here’s my latest Michael Rosen gem:-
“Dear Dominic
What do you think of my clapping? Good,eh? I watched a clip of me doing it and if I had to rate myself I'd say that I do it with sincerity and style. In short, I'm a good clapper. Watch out Covid, I'm going to clap you to hell.
Pro patria toyota
Boris”
There is a petition doing the rounds at the moment asking for a state funeral for Captain Sir Tom. I have nothing against this fine old chap but I can’t help feeling that the sentimentality is getting a little cloying. But maybe that’s just me!
As regards the clapping, which was for the NHS as well, it would still be better if NHS staff were paid properly and the service itself funded so that old men didn’t need to do fund raising walks.
Phil and I have appointments for our first Covid vaccination tomorrow morning. Making the appointments was quite a palaver. I received the official NHS letter last week and went onto their website to make an appointment, only to find that they were inviting me to go to places miles and miles away. The closest was Sport City, the Etihad stadium, probably ten miles away. Then there was Holmfirth or Huddersfield. My daughter offered to drive me there if I could arrange for it be a Friday, when she doesn’t work. Yesterday Phil had the same experience. The underlying message: stay home and stay safe unless you need to travel miles for an injection!
In the meantime, yesterday morning I had a text message from our NHS medical practice, again inviting me to click on a link and make an appointment. This time I was “invited” to go to one of two places in Oldham, both of which involved a bus ride or two. Now, I knew that some people were being injected at the Delph surgery of our medical practice. So why should I travel even five miles? Are people from other parts of Oldham being directed to travel to Delph? I wonder! Am I unreasonable and grumpy? I wonder once again!
In the end I phoned the medical practice, spoke to an understanding and helpful receptionist, explained that we have no car, and in a trice appointments were made for Phil and me at the surgery in our village centre.
I know it’s a massive undertaking to vaccinate all us old dears but really, it seemed unnecessarily complicated. Some people will have been put off having the vaccination altogether!
Nonetheless Mr Johnson says the rollout of the vaccine is probably the greatest achievement of the NHS, or words to that effect. I beg to differ. Their greatest achievement has been, and goes on being, coping with all the coronavirus cases that have been going through our hospitals in the last year.
Anyway, tomorrow we have our first injection. Reports on our reactions to it will follow.
That’s enough of that.
Walking back along the Donkey Line I had to circumnavigate some very large muddy places and some quite deep puddles. It was at that point that I thought it might actually have been easier to have been on my bike and just ridden splashingly through the puddles! Mind you, some of the muddy patches were so deep that I might well have got stuck or even - heaven forfend! - been tumbled off my bike into the muddy mess!
En route, I met this forlorn little chap, a last vestige of Tuesday’s snow, looking very pale and wan, clearly not long for this world!
But i also saw signs that spring may not be too far away.
During the night I was woken by heavy, nay, torrential rain. This morning, however, it was bright and sunny. For the first time in ages I ran without a waterproof jacket. The bright and sunny weather didn’t last until lunchtime though. The cloud moved in. And More cold and wintry weather is forecast for the coming days. So it goes.
Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!
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