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Restocking the fridge

Waitrose reopened today! What a relief!  I said to the woman on the till that it was great to have them back, but that they seemed to have moved absolutely everything. Nothing is where it was and even finding something as basic as milk wasn’t straightforward. No doubt I’ll get used to it in time.

I got through the week on a combination of leftovers (from last weekend’s larger than otherwise strictly necessary lamb joint), storecupboard basics and improvisation, plus buying two emergency pints of milk from the canteen at work. It was all going well until lunch time yesterday. I’ve got a stinking cold, so decided to work from home yesterday rather than spread my germs around the open plan office. From a work point of view that was a good call, and I got a lot done. But at lunch time I realised that, since I hadn’t expected last weekend to be at home on Friday, I hadn’t planned ahead and got any ingredients for lunch. I was reduced to raiding the fridge for any odds and ends of left-overs (half a yellow pepper, a slice of ham, a tomato and a few green beans) which I could put in a frying pan with a couple of eggs and call an omelette.

I had intended to do a big shop today to restock the fridge, which was very nearly empty. But I didn’t get to Waitrose until nearly 5pm today (I’d been to a matinée at the theatre. But a review of the play will have to wait until tomorrow. Waitrose reopening is much more important!) and the store was absolutely heaving. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it so busy, except perhaps just before Christmas. I was too tired and hungry to have the patience to do a big shop, especially since it would require hunting for for each and every thing and hence take much longer than it should.  So I just bought the basics, enough to get me through the weekend, and I’ll do a proper restocking exercise later in the week when it’s less busy.

Oxytocin Levels

Our workplace used to have a pretty good Occupational Health service. There was an on-site nurse who knew the staff, knew our problems, and was able to make sensible recommendations about how to overcome them, or at least to make reasonable adjustments to our work so that we could cope better. She was very helpful when Chris had a bout of serious depression several years ago, and I found her advice very useful when I was trying to juggle work and handling his illness and death last year. In fact, I credit her with helping me to set up the sustainable working pattern that I’m still working to and building on now.

So I felt it was a real shame when she retired last autumn and was not replaced – too expensive I suspect. Instead, we have a remotely-managed service which sends out jolly one-size-fits-all emails. This month’s was a particularly choice one about stress awareness. I quote:

Did you know?  A hug can be good for your health. Hugging instigates an elevated release of oxytocin which researchers have shown is associated with reduced levels of stress hormones, promotion of growth and healing and social bonding.

Well! What on earth am I supposed to do with that information? Especially in a work context? Instigate group hugs at the weekly team meetings? I can see the sexual harassment suits already – in fact I’d probably launch one myself!

I am well aware that I am considerably under-hugged, but now that my husband is dead I don’t have a ready supplier of hugs to hand. I did get a year’s worth of hugs at the funeral, but that’s over a year ago now. However, I’m not a very tactile person, and neither are most of my friends. We’re all scientists and engineers for goodness sake; we don’t do touchy-feely! There is one exception – an old college friend of Christopher’s – who has the most comprehensive bear-hug I’ve ever come across, and I take full advantage of it when I see her. But otherwise, that so-called advice is useless to me, and (I suspect) to the large numbers of single scientists with whom I work. In fact, it’s worse than useless – it’s actively upsetting, as it reminds me of what I’ve lost.

Would you like to guess who was the corporation behind this insensitive and patronising newsletter? It was AXA ICAS Healthcare. AXA really do seem to be doing their level best to annoy me with their email communications recently!

A very middle-class problem

Waitrose in Malvern has closed for a week for refurbishment, and you can’t get much more of a middle class discomfort than that! In my case, not only is my preferred purveyor of good quality food unavailable, but I expect my social life to take a nose-dive too – as on almost every shopping trip I meet someone I know in the aisles and stop for a good gossip. And, worse still, I believe they’re closing the carpark too for the duration. Admittedly, it does need resurfacing, but it’s by far the most convenient level carpark in town.

The other traders are really worried about the knock-on effects. On the one hand, the butcher & greengrocer may get extra trade, but on the other hand it could well be that the punters will desert Malvern entirely all week if they can’t park at Waitrose. The butcher told me that he doesn’t know whether to order extra supplies, or nothing at all – it’s very uncertain for them.

I did a big shop yesterday to stock up in advance of a Waitrose-free week. I did my meat and veg shop first at the butchers and greengrocers respectively – and it was just as well that I did. By the time I got to Waitrose mid-afternoon, the shelves were practically bare! I think it was a combination of people panic-buying and the store deliberately running perishable supplies down in advance of the closure. There was no meat of any kind other than bacon joints, practically the only vegetables left were carrots and cauliflowers, and the dairy aisle was almost empty. The staff were frantically “facing-up” by pushing the remaining items to the front of the shelves, but that couldn’t disguise the fact that there was hardly anything fresh left. There were plenty of dry goods and tins available, but that was about it.

Oh well. It’s only for a week, and in the grand scheme of things it’s hardly a disaster.

The Posthumously Published Photographer

About the only online account of Christopher’s which I haven’t deleted is his one with the photo-sharing site, Flickr. That’s partly because I like to go there every so often and look at his photos, but mostly because it gives me very little hassle.

So I was very surprised, about two weeks ago, when I got an email c/o his Flickr account asking him for permission to use one of his photos commercially (although unfortunately without any monetary compensation, just a copyright credit). The request came from an online web-magazine, MaltaInsideOut, and they wanted permission to use a photo Chris had taken of a Maltese hearse to illustrate an article for Halloween.

Christopher's photo of an old-style Maltese hearse

The photo was taken on a long weekend trip to Malta which turned out to be the last holiday that we had with my parents and sister. We were on an excursion to one of the local fishing villages, and I had a stinking migraine so spent the time sitting on a bench by the harbour. In the meantime a funeral was being held for one of the village dignitaries, a local politician by the look of it, and both Christopher and my father wandered around taking photos of the somewhat idiosyncratic hearse and funeral procession.

My reply to MaltaInsideOut perhaps could have been phrased more tactfully, but showed how surprised I was to get their email:

You sent Chris Booth a question about a picture of a hearse for your magazine. Unfortunately, that is probably more appropriate than you knew, since Chris is dead. Very dead in fact – he died over a year ago. So he can’t give permission for anything any more. I am his widow and I suppose that all the rights to his photos etc have devolved to me, so in principle I could help.  I remember the occasion well and the hearse was certainly interesting! What do you actually need? Do you just need an email giving you permission to use that photo as is? Or you want me to look through his computers to try to find the original image?

We agreed that what they actually wanted was a non-exclusive royalty-free licence to use the picture on their website. And thankfully they could download it off Flickr, so I didn’t have to go rummaging through his hard drive, which was not something I wanted to do. So I was pleased to give them that permission, and the resulting article is here: The Grateful Dead.

Christopher would have been so pleased. One of the things he really wanted to do when he got made redundant was to find a way to get his photographs published, and this would have been a start. The editor emailed me back to thank me, saying “I can imagine Chris perhaps giving us a knowing wink at using his photo now”, and I heartily concur that he would have been both pleased and amused at the irony.

Second leak fixed at last – I think!

Tony came round again this morning, for the fourth time in three weeks, and brought with him another spare part for my pressurised hot water system. He says that should now have fixed the original leak – the one into the overflow pipe outside the kitchen. I went outside to check, and it does seem to have stopped dripping, so that’s a big relief. I’ve told him that I really hope not to see him again for another year, for a regular boiler service.

Now of course I need to get the hall ceiling repainted to cover up the dodgy stain from the leak that was finally fixed last week. I suppose I could do it myself, but I really don’t want to. Christopher always used to complain over many years that the very word “paintbrush” gave him backache. I was less than sympathetic at the time, but now I think I know how he felt! I shall give my regular decorator, Rob, a call and see if he can fit me in.

Smokovaca

Three years ago (Is that all? It seems longer) Christopher and I went on a study tour to Split in Croatia with the Kent Archaeological Field School, and had a really good time exploring the stunning Roman remains there. On the last night of the holiday, as is traditional on such trips, the whole group went out for a farewell dinner at a little restaurant on one of the side streets within the walled city. As is also traditional, at the end of the meal the proprietor came around with a bottle of the local firewater for us to taste, no doubt in the hope of increasing her tip. It was Smokovaca, or fig brandy. We all tried some, and it was really rather good – a bit fiery, but with an underlying flavour of figs.  The next day, at Split airport, one of the group managed to find some on sale in the duty-free shop, and the whole party practically cleared the shelves as we all bought a bottle to take home.

Unfortunately, once we got home, Christopher and I discovered that it wasn’t actually very drinkable. What had tasted delicious on a warm evening on the shores of the Adriatic was a completely different drink on a miserable rainy November evening back home. So the bottle was consigned to the back of the drinks cupboard and nearly forgotten. Until, that is, Christopher discovered that it was really good for cooking with – in particular it was delicious added to baked apples, chocolate mousses and so on. Once he’d discovered that, the bottle got used up remarkably quickly as a “secret ingredient” in desserts. So when I went back to Croatia on holiday this summer, I decided to try to find some Smokovaca to bring home with me. Fortunately, Dubrovnik airport duty-free had a wide selection of local produce so I bought a bottle.

This is my recipe for baked figs in fig brandy:

Allow 1-2 figs per person. Preheat the oven to 180°C. Cut the top (pointy bit) off a fig, then cut a deep cross in it almost, but not quite, all the way through. Put the fig in a little ramekin dish, and open it out a little bit, like a tulip. Drizzle some runny honey into the fig, then add a generous slug of smokovaca. Cover with foil, then bake for 15-20 minutes. Serve hot, using a teaspoon to scrape the very boozy insides out of the fig.

If you don’t happen to have a bottle of fig brandy to hand (and let’s face it, that’s unlikely unless you’ve recently travelled via a Croatian airport duty-free!) then it is very nearly as good with ordinary brandy.

One leak fixed, one to go

I’d arranged to work at home on Tuesday so that Tony could fix my dripping hot water tank. But when I was still having my breakfast that morning, I got a phone call to say that the supplier had delivered the wrong part, again. So we rearranged for Wednesday. I’d run out of sensible things I could work on from home by then, so had to take leave to cover it. That’s something that is much harder now I’m on my own – previously I could share the time off with Chris, and usually one of us could afford the time away from the office.

On Wednesday morning Tony turned up with the right part – at the third time of asking – and fixed the leaking hot water tank. Thankfully, it no longer seems to be dripping onto an electrical junction box, and the salad crisper has been stood down from drip-catching duties. But it turns out that this leak was merely masking another problem. The pressure overflow system is still dripping gently into the overflow pipe, which is the symptom I had noticed in the first place. That requires a new bladder, which inevitably Tony didn’t have available. So he has taken the installation instructions away with him so that he can order (hopefully!) the correct part first time. The heating and hot water is safe to use in the meantime, but I expect him back next week to fix the second leak.

I was challenged in a comment on a previous post to manage ten workman-free days between now and Christmas. Somehow, I don’t think I’ve got off to a good start……

More lousy customer service

It feels like I ought to award the IcyJumbo Prize for Appalling Customer Service at least monthly, as there is such a high standard of competition! Today I’ve fallen out with AXA about my home insurance renewal.

AXA, or at least someone purporting to be AXA, sent an unsolicited email over the weekend to one of Christopher’s email addresses that hasn’t been used for two years. In it they said that my home insurance was about to expire, and to renew it I should click on a link within the email (which when I hovered my mouse over it was a very long link with lots of hexadecimal in it), answer some security questions and pay online. It’s true that my house insurance is due to expire, and indeed I’ve had another of those spooky reminders from Chris telling me to do something about it. But that email, although probably genuine, had all the signs of a classical phishing attack. All it would take would be for someone to hack the confused.com database, and they’d have a full picture of who I was,where I lived and when my various insurances were due for renewal.

So I phoned AXA up on the number in my policy details and asked them how stupid did they think I was? It’s an absolute first principle of cybersecurity never ever to click on a link in an unsolicited mail and then enter your security details or credit card number! It turns out that AXA have unilaterally moved my insurance policy to a web-only service, no doubt to keep costs down. I’ve no particular problem with that in itself – but they need to write to me to tell me, so that I know it’s genuine.  An email is not secure enough. Apparently they have written a letter telling me how to log on to the AXA website – but haven’t actually sent it out yet, so the email of course arrived days in advance.

I told the chap on the phone that AXA was training people to respond to phishing attacks, and that their behaviour was completely unacceptable. He seemed completely unaware of the basic principles of cybersecurity and struggled to grasp why I wouldn’t want to click on a link in an email that they had sent me. The concept that it might not have been them, but rather someone impersonating them, seemed completely alien to him! I have got him to promise that he would raise the matter with his management, but I have little hope that they will listen.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

Malvern is well out in the sticks. We do have a single-screen cinema, but it is at best several weeks behind London and the big cities when it comes to showing recent film releases – if we get them at all. However, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy finally arrived here on Friday for a two-week run. I’d heard good things about it from London-based friends, who saw it weeks ago, and strongly recommended it. So I took myself along to the Sunday matinée, partly to get myself out of the house, and partly out of curiosity.

I vaguely remember the Alec Guinness TV series, and I’m pretty sure I’ve read the book at some stage, so I knew the basic plot, though I couldn’t remember the important point about who the traitor was. The first thing that struck me was how unhurried it was. The director has managed to cram a long book, and 7-part TV series, into a film of about 2 hours, and yet it feels almost slow, and definitely deliberate and unrushed. The depiction of the 1970s was very accurate, and I particularly relished the ghastly institutional paint-job on the dingy walls of The Circus.

The cinematography was very well done, and the actors are all top-drawer (I always appreciate Colin Firth…….) but I’m not sure what I thought of the script. I thought there were gaps in the plot where there simply wasn’t enough time to fill in the back-story, and the motivation of many of the characters eluded me. I think I’m going to have to re-read the book to fill in the gaps.

The Wrong Valve

I arranged to work from home this morning so that Tony, the boiler service man, could come back and fit a new valve to my hot water tank, to stop the drip which he discovered on Tuesday. However, I got a phone call at 8:30 this morning to say that, unfortunately, he had ordered the wrong part and that the new valve he had got in for me wouldn’t fit. Instead, he wanted to come back here this morning to have another look at the valve so that he could order the correct part number……

Tony did turn up this morning, very apologetic, and disappeared up into the loft to have another go at identifying the part number that was needed. But he still didn’t seem sure, so asked me if I had the installation manual for the boiler. That really tested my filing system! The hot water tank was installed as part of the extension only a few years ago, and thankfully I was able to track down the paperwork which came with it. Tony took that away with him, and I am assured that the correct new part will be delivered to him on Monday. So I will have to work from home again on Tuesday morning, and dial in to the project progress meeting that’s planned. That’s not very convenient, but I’ve just got to get this leak fixed and I’m even busier at work in the second half of the week.

The delay also means that I’m going to have to brave the mice and go back up into the loft over the weekend to empty the drip-catcher. At least Tony was able to empty it while he was here, which saved me one trip up the ladder. I’ve replaced Tuesday’s tupperware container with the salad crisper from the fridge – it’s got the same area but about three times the volume, so doesn’t need emptying so often. The only good news is that there does still seem to be plenty of mouse-bait up in the loft, so I won’t need to get Tim, the pest controller, back just yet. I’m deliberately not looking too hard for dead mice – and hoping very much that I don’t see any live ones!