Pa's Tale

I don't go to the cinema, but I spent an hour and a half indoors watching an amazing film about Earth. It is by Yann Arthus-Bertrand, and consists mainly of wonderful aerial photography with an unobtrusive voice-over. The theme is about how we are wrecking the place. We hear about it all the time, but the pictures tell the story best.

The film, "Home", can be found at tinyurl.com/yannhome. Brilliant!

We had an agreeable golf match on Monday, followed by the usual big lunch - steak and kidney pie, one of my staples over the years, and very well cooked. I could only eat half of my portion, but the old blokes around me demolished theirs with gusto. And the apple crumble and custard. I just can't eat like that any more.

Then I played a singles match on Tuesday and won it mainly because, after weeks of inability to hit iron shots, the ball was soaring off the club. I have no idea what I was suddenly doing right.

And while I am not a big fan of one-day cricket, I watched England put the Saffers to the sword. Very entertaining. The semi-final on Friday is against Australia. Can our gallant lads do it to them as well?

After the exertions of Monday and Tuesday I had to have a day off. A bit of laundry and light gardening, and time in front of the computer screen. Steak frites salade ce soir, with a nice drop of red, then I'll have to go up to the golf club in the morning to see whether the irons are still working.

The Labour Party conference does not attract my attention. The UK is doomed to be governed by politicians, and that can't be a good thing. Nobody has a solution to the problem. Me, I'm just hanging around in the First Class departure lounge, hoping that the plane will be delayed.

I don't know where the Gatwick Summer Special parking people had stored my car while I was away, but it must have been next to a building site. It was filthy. I'm not a fussy person, but I took it to a hand car wash at Homebase, where a hard-working lad from Eastern Europe gave it a good wash and dry. The list price was only a fiver so I bunged an extra quid. And I thought that washing cars is a miserable way for a young bloke to make a living. What is he going to do for the rest of his life? And there are millions like him in Europe alone.

And there are millions more trying to get into Europe, and they don't understand that there is no work. Or that the Europeans don't want to/ can't afford to hand out benefits and accommodation to uninvited visitors.

I'm a lifelong Guardian reader, left of centre if asked, but while I can sympathise, I can't see how it is all going to work out. But I'll be long shuffled off this mortal coil before it all gets really serious.

This glorious weather is how it used to be in September in Geneva and in the wine-growing areas. They must have had a great vendange this year. I look forward to tasting the results.

Obviously, I can't do much work in the garden, what with a sore back, so I have been enjoying it under the sunshade. It is extremely nice. And the golf isn't too badly affected. You try to swing and hit smoothly, rather than winding up for a lurching bash at the ball, and it pays off.

We have a match tomorrow against the gentlemen of Chislehurst. This will end in a huge lunch, so supper will not be required. I have bought a chicken so I will roast that this evening and live off it for much of the coming week.

I will now go and watch the England cricket team, who are currently in play against the Saffers, and soon I must remember to switch the oven on. What an excellently idle day!

I think the last time I spent a week without any sort of news, whether papers or TV or internet, must have been while camping in the African bush a long time ago. And I didn't miss it (the media, I mean).

There was a good mix of people, as is usual with a Solo's golf trip, and we were along the coast near the Portugal border. The Atlantic coast and weather are so much better than the Malaga-type Med stuff. The routine is simple. Get up, play golf, have a snack lunch and a few beers, then rest up until it's time for an aperitif, dinner with wine and conversation, and a few snifters after. There wasn't any decent music, so you couldn't dance off the grog. I know it sounds boring, but somehow we all enjoyed it.

So I'm in recovery mode now. Laundry and things like that, and no golf until tomorrow. The garden is in good shape, so there must have been some rain to keep the pots watered. I might cut the grass later.

I have to ease off from my frenzied lifestyle so that I can better appreciate my little holiday. A week of golf in Spain starts on Tuesday. I do hope it won't be too hot.

So the Italian has scared the England footballers into making an effort. I watched much of the Croatia game once it became clear that they would win in some style. Then the women got thrashed by the Germans. So much for football for a while (though Charlton were on the box and played quite nicely).

My golf has been reasonable lately, though I faded towards the end on Friday. I wonder if four games a week is causing a little fatigue. Hope not because I'll be playing five times next week. Just get up and do it!

A brief mention of the ODI cricket. I feel sorry for the mugs who bought tickets for all seven games, carried away by the hype about the Tests. I even try to feel sorry for the Aussies, who dropped my favourite cricketer Brett Lee and so lost the Ashes. It isn't often that the inferior side wins a five match series at any sport.

I wonder if they could hire Capello to take on England cricket and do what he seems to be doing for football. Kicking ass would seem to be a prescription.

Now about blood pressure. It's all rather confusing: I have been measuring two or three times a day and there is great fluctuation during the day. But the general trend is within bounds, so I think I will put the gadget in a drawer and try it out once a month.

My next-door neighbour David, who has been renting the house for about six years, has left, and the place has been worked on inside and out with a view to re-letting. I have been most impressed by the hard work done by a young Romanian bloke - it's quite tiring just watching him work.

I went to Specsavers at Eltham this morning. My eye-test was done on Wednesday and the new specs were ready by Friday. Most efficient. Eltham was heaving around noon. The traffic, my dears, and the people! There is now a Lidl in the High Street, and also a Poundwhotsit, where I bought a nice leather belt. My belts have been getting progressively too short over the last year or so, and soon they won't go round me. I wonder if I will recover my former svelte figure once the Zoladex treatment is over.

There is some chat in the media about the government having to cut back a bit on perks. I have never really understood the winter fuel allowance, paid to all us oldies whether we need it or not. I imagine that old widows scraping a living on the breadline spend it on Christmas presents for grandchildren, and I think they should still get it. But there are millions of comfortably-off people who really don't need it when there is a massive need for the government to economise. Labour is too scared of the Daily Mail to get moving on this one.

And another item described as a "perk" is the free TV licence for over-75s. It should be a BBC matter, not a government one, except that the TV licence is now being openly recognised as a hypothecated poll tax.

What a bloody shambles. Fortunately, my children's generation will sort it all out, just as we did after the war.

I shall now water the pots and throw some shirts and smalls into a bag. Golf in the morning, and an early night.

Hasta la vista.

... otherwise I would have to watch England's ritual slaughter. It is impossible to understand how they won the Ashes series, given their general uselessness. The cricket fundraisers have decreed seven one-day matches against the Aussies, and, amazingly, there were about twenty thousand Hampshire layabouts at the game today. Don't they 'ave no 'ome?

And in a few minutes the footballers will be showing their skills against Croatia. Comment would be superfluous.

So back to the real world. Nine of us went into mid-Kent for an away day at a club known as The Ridge, and very pleasant, and hot, it was. The golf course was hacked out of Kentish orchards about 15 years ago, and enough apple trees had been left in situ to be a right nuisance. I was only able to be runner-up, but there was a few quid to put in my little purse.

Some of the chaps collected large amounts of apples for her indoors to deal with. I didn't bother.

I went for an eye test this morning. I have been a bit bothered by my right eye for years - it waters when there is a bit of wind and doesn't feel 100% - but the optician reckons that the incipient cataract won't need attention for some years yet. So I will get new specs in a couple of weeks, and my golf will improve dramatically. Of course it will.

The blood pressure stuff is hard to understand. The diastolic reading fluctuates hugely, but still seems to be within reasonable bounds. So I won't pay much attention.

I suppose I ought to go and have a look at the England footballers. The main thing is that there is golf tomorrow - I'm not very concerned about the doings of millionaire sports players (I don't say "sportsmen" because that refers to real people).

Come on England!!!!!

Only two exciting events lately. I played with Stuart and Clive at Woodlands Manor on Friday, and every single one of my drives was good. Every one! There's a first time for everything, and I collected my winnings afterwards with, I hope, due modesty. Best I've played for ages.

Since then, it has been a nothing weekend. A quiet morning in bed (more's the pity) reading. I didn't get up until 10 today and it didn't get any livelier. I watched bits of a lot of sport on the box, starting with Charlton (looking good), then a glance at the England football friendly. Today there was the second of no fewer than seven cricket 8ODIs, which England duly lost. There was rugby, about which I am becoming certain has too many players on the field. It was OK when your big fat forwards didn't run about, but nowadays they are all supposed to be fit and fast around the park. So it's all too crowded. But the Wallabies finally managed to beat the Boks. They seem to play each other every week, which is very boring.

The other exciting event was trying out my blood pressure monitor. Very confusing. I get different readings within minutes of each other, so I suppose I should write them all down and do a statistical analysis. Or flog the machine on eBay and get back to a lifetime of ignorance.

Nothing in the garden today, though I did water the pots. The grass doesn't grow like it used to. It needs hollow tining and top dressing and stuff like that, but I can't get the urge. So I bought a golf club online by way of keeping busy.

A quiet week in prospect. An away-day at The Ridge GC on Tuesday, and an eye test on Weds. I can't see where my drives end up these days, and, let's face it, they are not that long. New specs indicated.

Must take another BP reading. Got the gear. so use it.

There is much chat in the prints about evacuees when the war started. We had two, Roy and Gloria from Willesden. I recall a story that their dad was a bookie and their mum had run off with a GI, though none of that could have meant a thing to me. I do remember bashing Roy up once (we were about eight or nine); it's what you did to London softies. I don't recall what the sleeping arrangements were - there wasn't much room in our house, but my father had been sent away to Birmingham to learn to be an engineer.

Dellow, that's the name. They didn't stay long, and I wasn't curious. Mrs Taylor, the widow next door, had a lad from Islington. It was a famous slum in those days, and he was supposed to have fleas. I remember his tattered jersey with holes in the sleeves (our clothes weren't much better), but I don't think we were very pally. It must have been horrible for him.

We were far enough from Manchester (30 miles) not to be bombed, but there was plenty of shrapnel to collect. The elders used to tell us about the red glow in the night sky when Manchester was being blitzed, but otherwise, apart from the cold and the rationing and the absence of dads and uncles on active service, the war didn't hit us as kids directly. I mean in terms of being bombed. We hadn't been used to much anyway.

Anyroad up, as we said in Lancashire, that was then.

Gadgets now. My last gadget didn't please me, but Jake thought it was great, so he has it now. I have another couple of gadgets now. One is a cute little thing which does music and pics and video and radio, the snag being that it is ridiculously complicated. Patience, I tell myself. Just keep fiddling with it.

The other gadget is a blood pressure measuring device. My GP surgery has pretty well lost interest in me because I am overlooked by the prostate people at Guy's, and nobody has checked my blood pressure in years. I'm not a hypochondriac, but I thought it might be useful to check what is going on. And lo and behold! I am only just below the "high" range. Well, it's nice to know. I am supposed to measure twice a day and write the numbers down, so I might well do that.

I took advantage of an idle day yesterday to clean my kitchen. Not just a wipe with a damp cloth, but removal of all loose objects and a scrub all over with a cleaner. Of course, most people do that sort of thing every day, but it's a twice a year job for me. But wait until that nice young Polish girl comes around. Then the house will be really clean for the first time in years. As opposed to "clean enough".

Scottish Power have just offered to supply me for £300 per year less than they are charging me at present. Our email exchanges continue as I seek to find the snags.

September 3rd is a memorable date. It is when Swissair 101 fell into the Atlantic off Halifax, Nova Scotia, taking Alex and Petra with it. We remember.

But I did some fairly heavy pruning, and the terrace is tidier than it has been for years. So what? I hear you say, to which I have no response. But if you let Nature have her way, you wouldn't be able to get out of the back door in a year or two.

I did some more price research for gas and leccy, and I have sent what I think was a well-reasoned email to Scottish Power to ask for a well-reasoned reply. We shall see.

Now, here is some info about Helmand province in Afghanistan, where our soldiers are being killed every day. It is 58,000 square miles in area; England is 50,000sq.m. Its population is 745,000; England's is about 50 million. How are we, the invaders, supposed to get a grip on it? I don't think that the inhabitants of our little island realise just how big everywhere outside Europe is. Does our ridiculous government know?

By way of diversion I watched the 20/20 cricket against Australia. Fortunately, after our gallant openers had got out within five minutes, the Manchester rain arrived. No result. They propose to play another one this evening, starting at 7pm. There will be rain - I speak as a former Mancunian.

Another diversion was to watch a late night TV show run by Jules Holland which I had cleverly recorded. Kaiser Chiefs were there, complete with violins, as was Seasick Steve (clever user of a niche). And it was my first exposure to The Streets, which seems to be mainly a solipsistic Brummie called Mike Skinner telling us about his life and times. Rap and garage and stuff hasn't reached me before. There was presence and musical skill, but I had to ask the old question: what's it all about?

A less than sparkling performance on the golf course this morning, then I had to wonder what to do next. A rather feeble shop on Saturday had left me short of supper stuff, so I went out to M&S and bought some factory-made dinners. The shame of it! Is this the thin end of the wedge? Surely not, because if I don't have to go into the kitchen at 5pm I won't know what to do. But I'm going to find out. Tonight.