Jumping Ahead
10 October

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Very swiftly, we've left an autumnal summer behind and descended into an almost wintery autumn.

The expected darkness is descending and it has been accompanied by near incessant rain and high winds. There have been slight pockets of Indian summer but, as for extended mild weather, forget it. In fact, over the past two months, the rain has been so consistently heavy that I have been collecting it and using it to top up the pond in our back garden. We have not needed to use the garden hose at all.

And there's been a reasonable harvest over the summer. Enough plums ripened to provide a very healthy crumble. Nevertheless, part of the autumn bedding down of the garden has been to refresh the soil around the plum tree for next year. We also had our fill of cabbages and there appears to be a single solitary courgette than might just ripen before the end of the growing season.

Our local shopping has put us in contact with local produce. I don't think that I have shelled quite so many peas and broad beans in many a year. It makes me thing that I should like to grow them in our garden next year.

Strangely in the circumstances (though this may be a characteristic of the way that Ross and I organise our lives given my four day work week and generous holiday allowance) I have, in fact, worn my shorts more often this year out in the back garden over the summer than I have for a while. Consequently, I still have brown legs and an interesting light patch in the middle of my torso when I shower in the morning.

Still, the windows are open less often now. The winter wardrobe is re-appearing and the summer clothes are gradually being shelved. Heavier bedding has appeared. The central heating is on more regularly much to Jemima's delight.

Anyhow, as Colin has pointed out recently, I have been incredibly tardy in keeping this Journal up to date. Normally, I back fill but I don't feel like doing that on this occasion. So, here in truncated form is the last two months.

Well, this year has seen interesting scenes in the house next door. From Bev's departure to the bottom and top flats being re-occupied. Well, the top flat is empty again after the drugs raid - does the landlord never think to check on his new tenants? That was a one night wonder of excitement. John keeps doing up the bottom flat. He appears to be living there with his girlfriend but he sometimes comes across as being very (Skunk-induced) paranoid. Shame because otherwise he's a nice kid.

Back in August, Ross and I went to see The Magic Flute as performed by Heritage Opera at Crosby Hall Education Trust (CHET). A few weeks later, this photograph appeared on the company website which show us (dimly) at the back of the audience.

Shortly after that I spent a pleasant evening with Roland watching a DVD of Janacek's From the House of the Dead in a production by Patrice Chereau conducted by Pierre Boulez. This was, apparently, the first time that the two of them had worked together since their iconic version of Wagner's Ring at Bayreuth back in 1976. We both liked it but found Boulez's conducting too clinical for the composer - it was the same when his all-Janacek programme came round in the Proms later that month. And both of us agreed that the Welsh National Opera production of 1982 was all in all a more gripping experience.

Over August Bank Holiday, the family met up for a birthday meal for my sister Linda who turned fifty recently.

Then, shortly after, at the beginning of September, Liverpool was invaded by a mechanical spider called La Princesse for the best part of a week. It emerged on a Wednesday morning half way up one of the disused tower blocks in the city centre and, variously, was to be seen down by the Albert Dock, near the Liver Building, by the Law Courts, next to St George's Hall and, finally, at the entrance to the first Mersey Tunnel.

It certainly caught the imagination of Merseysiders who flocked in their thousands to see it with its accompanying street theatre, music and pyrotechnics despite the pouring rain and gloom. OK it was free but it as a master stroke from the Capital of Culture people and certainly a defining moment of 2008.

Shortly after that again, Ross and I attended the first night of the Phil's new season. For me, the highlight was Paul Lewis's latest installment of his Beethoven Piano Concerto series. This time it was the second concerto and he brought out the influences of Haydn and Mozart in a performance of wit and poise and delicacy and rhythmic brio. For Ross, the highlight was the performance of Prokofiev's Symphony No5. This isn't my favourite symphony and it pales into comparison with the performance of Shostakovich's Symphony No5 which we attended back in April. Still it was a good concert and it was good to be back at the Phil and beginning the long march through towards spring.

A little after this, I was down in Norfolk, the University of East Anglia in Norwich to be precise, for another of my UCISA courses aimed at University Helpdesk staff. Gone are the hell-raising days of Durham. I left my charges at the mid-evening point after maybe a single beer and was tucked up in bed early listening to music and reading. I left the partying to the young people. I felt much better for it.

Being in the vicinity, I visited the aforementioned Colin in Lowestoft on the Friday night. Three years have passed since I was last there. I sat out on his patio, feasted well and engaged in much lively conversation. I also observed a transition stage in the re-development stage of his bathroom. Thank God that the shower and toilet were completed and that I didn't have to use the plastic portaloo on the front drive - showering in there would have been a bind.

During the period, as well as frequent Saturday afternoons spent putting the world to rights over a pint with Roland, I've also done a little keeping in contact with other friends as well. I had lunch in Southport with Phil and discussed his recent promotion at work. I had afternoon coffee in Southport with my Quaker friend Elizabeth and discussed her love life. I talked on the phone with Gill and discovered that she was laid low with an e. coli infection this summer. I've chatted a few times about opera with Colin but haven't yet arranged to go over and see him. Also, I did hear briefly from Chris who used to live in Cologne and then San Francisco but is now resident in Wuppertal.

Anyhow, the course gave me a boost and also provided a useful contact. I have applied for a job on the Helpdesk at Liverpool University and I've used one of the course participants, Dudley, as one of my referees - he is one of the team leaders on the University of East Anglia's Helpdesk. There are downsides to this possible new job - a little less money and I would have to work a five day week for it and I probably won't get as many holidays but...

Another level of dissatisfaction has crept into my work at Connect. I'm still covering the Internal Verifiers rôle on their ITQ project. In the process, I'm seeing less than good work from colleagues who are the mainstay of the bulk of the company's income. I'm also working with an Assessor whose organisational skills and quality control can be doubted but who is likely to become an Internal Verifier in time. Furthermore, I'm encountering a Chief Executive Officer who is happy in one breath to claim that he knows nothing about NVQs and then goes on with the next breath to make stunningly uninformed decisions. Finally, I have a horrible feeling that I am being groomed to be a full time administrator rather than someone working with and supporting customers and clients.

Terms and conditions at Connect remain unparalleled in my work experience and my fellow colleagues are as good a team as you could hope to work with but the work continues its spiralling downward path of diminishing fulfilment.

The Capital of Culture year continued with three events at the Philharmonic (Simon Rattle conducting the Berlin Philharmonic in Messiaen and then Petrenko conducting the RLPO in Verdi's Requiem and then Simon Rattle conducting the RLPO in Sibelius) all of which I missed but caught up with on Radio 3.

Ross meanwhile had two exhibitions as part of the Independents stream of the 2008 Liverpool Biennial. And he also has a steady stream of work between now and next spring.

In our own world, we've now more or less completed work on our nest with the purchase and installation of fabulous curtains in our bedroom. The colour is lustrous and they are weighty enough to block out more light and sound and to keep more warmth in. We're very pleased.

We've also got more things on the wall in there too. Finally, my birthday present to Ross is up on the wall. I bought the print of Gustav Klimt's Apple Tree which I bought for him back in May.

During the last few weeks, we've spent a lot of time in there. No, not like that (especially). What has tended to happen at the end of the day is that, instead of slumping in the front room in front of the television, we repair to the bedroom and lie on the bed reading and listening to music before slipping between the sheets and listening to a talking book.

For the past three weeks, we've followed through Trollope's Barchester Chronicles sequence. It's been three years since we last visited this gentle panoply of rural, middle class life. Johnny Eames's heartbreak touched me deeply. I cried at the death of Mr Harding. I railed at Mrs Proudie. I was more aware than usual of the bone of the plot devices. But it's still a wonderful way to pass the time over a three week period whilst approaching slumber.

During this time, I have, therefore, read quite a lot of books. Most, I have to say have been reasonable but unmemorable. I'm happy to mention in passing Glen Duncan's The Bloodstone Papers, Rachel Caine's Glass Houses, Anita Shreve's Resistance and Carson McCullers' Reflections in a Golden Eye all of which I was happy to read and give a collective two and a half stars to.

One exception was C J Sansom's Winter in Madrid. Set in Madrid in 1941, Franco is in power and Europe is at war whilst Spain is, nominally, neutral, the story occupies a Graham Green type of world of seedy espionage and personal betrayal. It's not a area of European history with which I am familiar and so I found it fascinating even if the ending sort of petered out. Still, worthy of three stars.

I'm also in the process of making some course corrections when it comes to my personal routines.

For example, for the past three years or so, I've been getting up at 6am. That's had benefits in terms of giving me time for myself before going into work and it also has given me access to plenty more sunshine over the summer months. However, it has also meant getting up in the dark for a number of months of the year.

I've shifted that time back by half an hour and I'm surprised at how much more morning twilight I have been getting as a consequence. I'll see how it goes for the future. I do miss my quick early morning dose of the farming programme but, no doubt, I can pick that up elsewhere if I want.

Since Barbara stopped her yoga class, I've been without my weekly stretch but that may be coming to an end as Dorothy, one of my former yoga classmates, has given me some details of another class on a Thursday night. I'll try this soon.

I've also lain down my reiki sessions with Janet for the time being. Instead, I've begun a series of sessions using the Bowen technique with Gail. It's very interesting. I don't know where it's quite going yet but the journey feels promising.

And I suppose I should finish off by making some mention of what has been happening in the world's money markets.

One of the things I have been mulling over is the biblical story of Joseph's interpretation of the dreams - you remember, the seven years of plenty followed by the seven years of famine. Or in other words, put something aside in the good times and you will have a buffer against the bad times which will surely come. And it's that sort of prudence which has been actively discouraged for many a long year.

What confusing times we live in. The world's largest right wing capitalist economy nationalising their mortgage market. In fact, nationalisation of many different sections of the world's financial systems by stealth in many separate geographical locations. There's talk of a return to Quaker banking principles. There's talk of the thirty year experiment in free market economics being over. There's talk of an end to big city bonuses.

Well, there's talk. Apparently, big city bonuses will shrink by 57% in the UK this year. However, the total payout will still exceed £4bn, yes that's £4,000,000,000. So, plenty of pain to be felt there then.

Oh, I really don't know. It all seems so remote currently. I'm still buying vegetables and getting my hair cut.

I'll be only too pleased if we are seeing the end days of the casino version of world economics. But I'll be more interested in what we are seeing in two years' time rather than getting hung up over what what the pundits are bleating about now.