Early Geese
20 August

After the hottest July on record, we may be on course for the coldest, wettest August.

The second heatwave that we were promised has certainly not materialised. In fact, currently, thunderstorms and flash floods and severe weather warnings seems to be more like the order of the day.

I wonder as to how much of the rain is helping the autumn crop of fruits. In July, the warnings were for a very poor yield but, you would hope, the extra rain must have helped to swell the ripening fruit. Certainly our plums have plumped considerably in the past couple of weeks although we have already lost a fair amount of the crop to lack of water.

The future looks a little uncertain as well. I've been a little taken aback by the number of geese that I have already seen and heard in the skies over Crosby. This is probably about a fortnight earlier than last year and that was considered early. I have in mind that 12 September is the average date locally for the arrival of the autumn geese.

This might just seem like a little quirk of nature but some of my Quaker friends have just returned from holiday in the German Alps and there locals are already talking of massive early snowfalls and autumn having well begun. Maybe we are due for a very long and cold winter.

We have also reached one of those small markers in the house. On our landing we have a nightlight which illumines our way should either Ross or myself need to get up in the night. During the lightest summer months, we dispense with this because the hours of actual darkness are so short. Well, it's a marker of the way that the nights and mornings are starting to close in that we've returned it to its usual duties.

And talking of diminishing light, Ross and I have both taken to making judicious use of our light boxes such are the crepuscular conditions all around us. This is more precautionary than necessary but is another marker as to the changes going on.

And in another nod to the generally poor atmospheric conditions, I've been turning on the car heater on my way into work for the past week.

In fact, with the general layers of cloud, there is a real sense of morning and evening gloom at present. The twisted willow, mallow and buddleja are often so sodden with rain that they are almost bent double with the weight of it. Ross can feel his joints swelling with the damp and I can feel the chill in the muscles of my legs. It really feels like early spring or mid autumn. Which is odd because it also feels as though we are in the midst of an endless summer.

Again this is to do with the tricks that memory plays. Our Baltic holiday was such a big thing that it entirely dominates my sense of time for this summer. Easter seems light years away.

Another of the side effects of our Baltic cruise was that it blew a hole in our regular summer routine which includes visits to Llandudno and Buxton. So, if you look at the number of operas viewed so far this year, it is a surprisingly low three in number. Any other year would have yielded a total in double figures by this time of the year.

Ross and I are beginning to make plans for the autumn. However, we are finding it easy not to book for things. Two in the bag are Smetana's Bartered Bride at Buxton Opera House and Opera North's new Peter Grimes at the Lowry. I've also agreed to go to the Welsh National Opera performance of Tristan und Isolde at Llandudno with Roland.

We also hope to get to see Janacek's Cunning Little Vixen at the Royal Northern College of Music. And, further ahead, Roland and I are off to the Royal Opera next January to see Juan Diego Flórez and Natalie Dessay in La fille du régiment.

There are some other local events, like Crosby Symphony Orchestra's performance of Shostakovich's Symphony No 5, which we may well attend but those can be decided nearer the time. For us, this is quite moderate going.

In the wider world, an uneasy ceasefire has been brokered by the United Nations in the Lebanon. There has been much angst about American missiles being transported to the Middle East via Prestwick airport (clearly wrong) but little said about the hundreds of missiles launched by Hizbullah. I cannot but see that there is much wrong on both sides.

Much ironic mirth was to be had in this household during the course of the announcement of the United Nations resolution. The State of Israel urged caution as many United Nations resolutions are not implemented. Too right. The State of Israel has a large number of them against its name pending action.

And, just as that news was dying down, so this country went onto a full scale terror alert with some twenty or so of our citizens arrested and airports virtually closed down. Quickly the news media started talking about alleged terrorist activities as a way of acknowledging that we have already had one operation that led to a foreign visitor being shot at a London tube station and another in which two young students were wrongfully arrested (and one of them was shot in the leg) by some 200 police officers.

There really is a sense of collective breath being held until there is more evidence in the public domain. No-one has any great trust in the government and the security forces currently. Whilst no-one is saying that there are no Islamic extremists, neither are there lots of people clamouring for strong action.

And, mostly, we, the citizenship of the country, just get on with our lives.

In that context, the saddest news of the week for me was hearing of the death of one of my Quaker brethren. Whilst Ross and I were on holiday, there was a birthday party for him held at Southport Meeting House. It was in celebration of his ninetieth birthday. He was a game old bird and provided a link back to the classic Quaker pacifist movements of the mid-twentieth century.

Anyhow, his heart simply gave out last weekend. Which is the greatest of ironies since it felt as though he had the greatest of hearts.

Almost more distressing are the circumstances of his wife, Iris, who is nearly equal his age but without the same acuity of mental faculties. It is not clear that she has actually understood that her life partner has departed this life. It would probably be a mercy if she slipped away and followed him.

I've treated myself to some Naxos records recently. As I type this, I am listening to the Maggini Quartet playing some early quartets by the English composer, John Ireland. They are most pleasant. John Ireland crops up also on the second disk, which is entitled English String Miniatures Vol 5. I have the previous four volumes and, like this present one, they provide an hour or so of easy listening. The third disk is probably the best and offers the first volume of a set of lute music by John Dowland.

I know that I have made similar comments before but I certainly wouldn't be buying this sort of repertoire if it weren't at Naxos's super-bargain price. And really, I owe to them my burgeoning collection of music from English composers such as Arnold, Bax, Berkeley, Bliss, Bridge, Britten, Elgar, Finzi, Harty, Howells, Leighton, Maxwell Davies, Moeran, Rawsthorne, Rubbra, Rutter, Stanford, Tavener, Vaughan Williams and Walton.

I am also continuing my burst of novel reading and have just finished About a Boy by Nick Hornby. I'd not read any of his stuff before and I was mightily impressed. It is well characterised, well plotted, nicely observed and very engaging with a mordent sense of humour. I loved it and am looking forwards to reading some more works by the author at a suitable juncture.

Work seems easier at the moment. Partly this is because we now have some semblance of a routine sorted out. Partly, it is also to do with shedding a weekly Wednesday evening commitment which was a straw that was breaking the camel's back. Mostly, however, it is to do with a change in the current customers. We have let go a number of disruptive influences and have gained a number of saner, wiser folk.

However, from my point of view, it hasn't changed my overall dissatisfaction with my situation. We've no knowledge that the next three intakes of customers may be as disruptive as those we encountered during March, April and May. So, it's a fool's paradise to say that everything is better now. And, frankly, I am bored rigid with the content that I am delivering on a daily basis.

So, to that end, I have had another interview with Liverpool City Council. It will be next week before I hear back from them. I feel more confident than last time but not excessively so. Not counting my chickens, I have applications in the pipeline for a job with University of Liverpool and a couple more with the NHS. At some point a change will take place. We shall just have to see what that change is.

There is also good news from Barton, North Lincs where Sam, Ross's younger brother, has been accepted at University of Liverpool to read medicine. This means that he is going to be around this city for a few years to come and, no doubt, we shall see him occasionally when he fancies a Sunday lunch and getting his clothes laundered.