Boxing Day (December 26th)

For those of you not living in the Judeo-Christian West, this is the day following Christmas.

A Jewish baby was born in a manger and the rest that follows is history, or, Constantine make-believe.

I have not written in a couple of weeks.

Mostly, work has been overwhelmingly busy and prior to that I was on holiday for a week with my family on Holy Island (it seemed an appropriate place for the time of year – there we spent Channukah).

The island is connected to mainland England via a tidal causeway, which means that it is joined to land half the day and the other, disconnected, when the tide is in and the road blocked by the North Sea.

It is a magical place that was loved by both Vikings and early Christian monks, for very different reasons.

The distillery (the only shop open during our visit) on the island capitalizes on this by selling both Lindisfarne (the name of the monastery) Mead and Viking horns (with which to sup the plundered alcohol.)

We had amazing walks round the sandy beaches and the castle, sighting friendly seals and Roe deer.

The darkest of moonless nights allowed a fantastic view of the stars.

Overall, a tranquil time with lots of reading, wood fires, NY Times Connections and time with my family.

The dogs joined us and appreciated the salty aromas of decomposing aquatic life.

Another reason I have not written is that I have remained captivated by my audience in China.

On average, I receive 400 views a day from that county which I appreciate is not a lot, although for me, is plenty.

I have not yet established whether my readers are individuals interested in me, and my multifarious views of life, are bots scraping for AI usable data or a means by which the Party is infiltrating the West (If the latter, probably not the most effective strategy); I haven’t had any likes or comments from China which makes me less inclined to believe that my readers from Zhengzhou, Hefei and Nanjing are interested individuals, although perhaps, the rules there prohibit public commentary.

I mentioned that work has been busy.

In a previous blog I wrote about the NHS’s awakening to the importance of care and support of older people living with frailty, particularly those in the last year of life and the mechanisms available to prevent these patients entering hospital and becoming part of the process of medicalization that robs individuality, autonomy and adds up to 10 years to that already older person’s sentence and who would have been better being left at home.

All this is what I do and what I have been doing for many years. The difference now is the realization; it is a little like my blog, after years of obscurity, I have been recognized, and the attention is both flattering and a lot.

My anticipation is that things will increase in intensity, more people will receive care in their own homes rather than A&E departments and hospital wards and there might just be a chance we can contain the expansion of hospitalized care that is high cost and low value (for this group), as compared to high cost, high value, if you need your gall bladder removed or require support on critical care.

Christmas has passed and today we had the first real frost of the year; by the time I had climbed out of bed, it was still white and crunchy under foot. The dogs didn’t appear to notice the difference, and I wonder about their perception of cold.

A dog is able to jump into freezing water to fetch a ball, return the ball to thrower and run back into the same icy water all with just a shake of their coat.

Do they not feel the cold?

I have seen dogs shivering although usually they are Whippets and the like, dogs with scrawny bodies and thin fur; my two appear immune.

I do not plan to test them, i.e. I don’t encourage frigid water entry although when it happens, I marvel, versus me with hat, gloves, thermals, and thick coat.

During Channukah there was the Bondi Beech massacre.

I haven’t written anything about this yet although it has been very much on my mind.

I think of Matilda and what she might have become.

Yesterday Dan Elkayam was buried in Israel, his body flown from Australia.

In Gaza there remains the body of one Ran Gvili that no one can either find or wants to find, and the suffering of the Gazans continues.

I read recently in Sayed Kashua’s book, ‘Native’ Dispaches: from an Israeli-Palestinian Life which touched on his experiences of winter as a young boy in the Arab town of Tira in central Israel, as he realized that poor people encounter the cold in ways very different to those who have lived in affluence.

Cold getting into bed, cold in bed and cold when you get up in the morning, all different degrees of coldness but unpleasant, nevertheless.

I think of the showers scene in Barry Hines’ Kes.

I remember the ice inside my bedroom window as a boy in Glasgow, the frost on my breath as I lay in bed. That was the 70’s when income was small; fuel costs high and insulation non-existent.

As a teenager, I struggled through the cold of the classroom at Tali School in Hod Hasharon; the schools there not designed for winter – no heating, and our school did not have enough money to repair the broken windows or even keep the door from blowing a draft.

I remember disheveled Sam, Shumuel and his thick grimy glasses who sat closest to the door.

The Middle East is very, very hot in summer and if you are poor, if you are living in a tent in winter, you suffer. You suffer from the cold, the rain, and the darkness.

I am currently watching Mr. Mercedes on Netflix. It is an adaptation of a series of Stephen King books, all of which I have read and enjoyed.

Unlike past experiences, I am on to the second series and still enjoying it.

I am reading Dan Brown’s Secret of Secrets which although entertaining contains none of the intrigue an thrill of his other books, sorry Dan. Maybe it is time to hang up the pen.

I’ll end with something I read or heard recently – I can’t remember who said it or when although it was interesting:

If you want things to stay the same, you will have to change. 

Something to consider.

Season’s greetings to you all.