1972

Problems with plastic — and postmen

   7.29pm. Instead of meeting for the Bible Study, Freda and I have come to spend a quiet evening with Freda’s mother. John and Sheila have a houseful of guests arriving today so would not have been able to join us, so we met last night instead. We had a great time of blessing. We spoke on The Birth of Christ in the Soul of Man. Afterwards I was so exhausted as to be unable to eat, although I did have the sherry and mince-pie which Freda had prepared as a special treat. I took Mum, Mrs. Ridout and Janet home, then collapsed into bed. Freda came up at about 1.20am and had a coughing fit which kept us awake for some time.

   We were extremely busy in the office again today. The post came rather earlier, however, about 10.00am (10.35am yesterday), and second post arrived before lunch, so the girls were able to leave shortly after 4.00pm, leaving me to write up the accounts.

   My Barclaycard arrived at last — it had taken three days by first-class post from Northampton — but by the same post there was a letter from the Nigeria Embassy demanding our passports AND letters from our referees in Nigeria AND our air tickets before they will decide whether to grant us an entry permit or not. This 18 days after we filled in the application form when no mention was made of these things being required. The possibility of obtaining letters of reference from Nigeria in the short time we have available seems out of the question. Freda went to see Mr. Hughes, who ’phoned the [[MISSING]]. When he ’phoned to tell me what had happened he sounded most put out. We seem to have had so much obstruction and lack of co-operation from these West African Embassies that I feel like abandoning the whole idea.

   The Barclaycard enables me to obtain money in most European and some other countries (but none in West Africa), and allows me a credit limit of £200, not that I am ever likely to want to be overdrawn. The card costs nothing to use, but interest is charged at 1½% on any balance outstanding at the end of the month. But the stores, hotels and restaurants who employ the system have to pay Barclaycard 2½% (or is it 5%?) for the privilege, and so must put up their prices by the same amount. The resultant inflation is a wonderful thing to the politicians who are returned to office on the strength of their promises to control it. Meanwhile, the money-free debt-ridden society becomes increasingly the slave of the International Bankers.

   I remember many years ago talking about the day when “money” would be a thing of the past. Everyone would bear a number, which would be used in every transaction. No one would ever handle “cash”. Salaries would be credited to one’s account, and “money” spent would be deducted in the same way. The prospect is frightening in its implications — George Orwell’s 1984, and the advent of the computer brings that day ever closer.

   Mr. Shaw came yesterday afternoon. Janet had ’phoned him for me on Wednesday afternoon asking him to call with the 1974 Calendars, which I wanted to order without delay, in the hope that I might buy them cheaper by not incurring Value Added Tax, which comes into effect next April. In fact the Calendars may be cheaper after April as V.A.T. at 10% is less than purchase tax, which is [ ].

   Mr. Shaw had lost both his parents in the space of two or three weeks, first his mother, and then his father, who was cremated on Monday of last week. We have heard of so many bereavements this Christmas. Mr. W.J. Lemon of Belfast lost his mother, and then a close friend was killed. Mrs. Anne Williams, the widow of W.T., wrote this morning to inform us of his passing on November 5th.

   Mr. Shaw stayed for an hour and a half. I had a look at the complete range of calendars, which this year (i.e. 1974) includes two new ones, one of Animals and another of Historic Houses. We spent some time critically analysing some of the portrait and nude studies, and, as usual, Mr. Shaw extolled the virtues of Michelangelo and William Etty. What a pity that Etty had no feeling for composition. Mr. Shaw told me he had been made a “governor” in connection with the art classes he attends, and invited me to go along as well, but I would feel more inclined to attend John’s photography class where the results are more immediately satisfying. However, I must take up painting again. I was always interested in art right up until my 14th birthday when I had to sacrifice the subject in order to “specialise” in scientific subjects. I used to attend “voluntary art” classes [with Mr. J.B. Hurn] on Tuesday or Thursday afternoons at K.E.S., but the artistic impulse was stifled, not to come forth again for 21 years.

   I was thinking about my unhappy days at K.E.S. when we came here this evening. A Dr. A.J.R. Smout had been to see Mum [Freda’s mother] instead of Dr. Mence, reminding me that it was Professor C.F.V. Smout, as Dean of the Faculty of Medicine, who presided over the selection board when I was accepted for the Medical School. This would have been in 1952.

   In addition to having the doctor call, Mum has had a plumber in today. Last night she discovered that the tank had sprung a leak as clothes in the airing cupboard were wet, and spent a restless night constantly getting up to make sure that the leak was no worse. Mr. Yates next door came in and arranged for a plumber to call, and by this afternoon a completely new plastic tank had been installed to replace the one which had rusted through. What a mercy that Mum discovered the leak when she did, before any damage was done, and while there was a plumber available!

   Geoff Gray called at the office this morning to deliver his Christmas card and a cheque for the cottages, and we gave him his calendar. Dad delivered a calendar to Mr. Kimm [Stanley Kimm at 36 Bromyard Road], who, a few years ago, used to call at the house on a Saturday morning.

   This evening we have been relaxing to the music of Ravel (Bolero), Gounod (Faust), Tchaikovsky (Nutcracker), and Johann Strauss I and II, and now Wagner (Siegfried’s Rhine Journey). Freda reminded me that years ago, so long ago I had forgotten, we used to come here on Friday evening, bringing Kim [our corgi] with us. That was before we had the Bible Study on a Friday evening, and before we had a car. We used to walk here (2½ miles) and ride back on the ’bus [the 31A from Gospel Lane to Cateswell Road], Kim having to be taken upstairs.

   I had quite forgotten that I had a letter yesterday from Mr. L.A.J. Hill of the G.P.O. in reply to mine to the Head Postmaster. He confirms that the summons taken out against me for “assault and battery” was nothing to do with the G.P.O. but was a private affair taken up by the Postal Workers’ Union on behalf of the postman [whose finger I accidentally trapped in the door].