I recently received a text message from Barclays Bank inviting me to a presentation on how I can use the banking services when my local branch closes down.
My local branch of Barclays in Hethersett closed down a long long time ago and then my next nearest at Wymondham also closed down. So now I have to go into Norwich if I want to speak directly to a person from the bank.
I am totally opposed to this diminishment of services so won't be taking advantage of their offer which of course will be held in an existing branch in Dereham that they will no doubt be closing down almost immediately after telling us what to do when they close it down. Doesn't make a lot of sense to me but I am a simple man.
And that's two of my favourite pieces of music mentioned in one phrase - "I'm a Man" and "Simple Man". I'm a man as recorded by either Chicago or The Spencer Davis Group - take your pick and the lovely "Simple Man" which was written by Graham Nash (one of my favourite artists) and equally beautifully performed by Paul Williams (another of my favourite artists).
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Do you have a regular time for going to bed and/ or getting up?
My time for these rather depends on what I'm doing or what I have to do. We have friends who get up every day at exactly 8.10 am. I think they are called creatures of habit. My parents always went to bed exactly at 10.40 pm. I just can't be that prescriptive with my life.
I can go to bed anytime from 10 pm to midnight and get up anytime from 5 am until 9 am but usually closer to the former than the latter.
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Today I'm at last having my shingles jab which I've had to put off twice due to daughter in law's pregnancy which didn't make it safe to be in her presence when she was expecting.
In the evening we are off to the monthly quiz at the local golf club. We never know what to expect nowadays. We could come anywhere from first to last.
Quite often when I'm looking through various internet pages I come across things I have written in the past.
Such was the case a couple of days ago when I was just having a look round various sites. Up came a rather vitriolic post by myself. It was actually eight years ago when I had a bad day and somebody insulted me and I vowed as a result to cut back on my voluntary work in the village,
Now here I am eight years later and I haven't cut back at all and really I'm glad that I haven't. What would I do with my time, I ask myself? Perhaps enjoy yourself, you might answer. But I do that anyway, I reply.
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Amongst our post yesterday was our National Trust handbook and magazine. It was wrapped in a cover that I was informed was made from potatoes.
I'm not sure that was correct. I popped it into the air fryer with a piece of fish but it tasted horrible.
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I had to laugh at an article on the national news yesterday. As they do so often the BBC wheeled out a random member of the public to comment on something. On this occasion it was the weather. A mother and young son told us that it's currently very cold.
"It takes ages to warm the house up," she told us as if this was a revelation and real national news.
Spoiler alert - the next comment comes from the realms of old fogieism (is that even a word?).
When I was nowt but a lad, homes never actually got warm at all in the winter. We just put up with it knowing that the summer would follow. I don't think we appeared on the news to tell people what they already knew.
Tomorrow I will tell you about tributes to a much loved Hethersett man and also turn to a bit of Dickens.
I end today with a bit of fun - computer generated images of what I would look like as a hippy. Who thinks I look a bit like Willie Nelson?