A Parliament of Owls

Thanks to a post by Dawn Treader recently, it got me thinking about the owls I own.

When I was a lot younger, I once commented that my husband Greg reminded me of an owl - he wore large metal-rimmed spectacles that were fashionable in the 60s and 70s (the sort John Lennon used to wear) and was very wise. He was a radio journalist who ended up in the BBC World Service Newsroom, so was very knowledgeable about all sorts of things to do with politics and world affairs.

Having made this observation, I then found I was inundated with presents of owls by people who needed some clues for what to give me for birthday or Christmas presents or a souvenir from their holiday. Not real owls of course, but china ones, glass ones, fabric ones, vases, mugs, pictures, doorstops, jewellery and keyrings.

Over the decades I have accumulated so many that I have now had to say 'No more, please', as my shelves and walls are groaning with them. If at some stage in the future, I need to downsize my home, I shall be hard-pushed to know what to do with them all.

The collective name for owls is a Parliament. A Parliament of Owls. So here is my 'Parliament' for you to feast your eyes on.

I have even been given socks with owls on

Rota Manager

Although I have been retired for 15 years now, I still seem to be very busy. As I have been a widow for all that time too, I find it helps to keep busy otherwise I end up talking to the wall or watching too much TV. Apart from the weekly housework and gardening that needs doing,  I have joined choirs, do at least 3 gym classes a week, help out at the local foodbank and foodbank shop and also volunteer at our local park which is run by the Friends of the Park.

As for the latter, the volunteering has involved doing a two-hour shift on a weekend afternoon to open the information centre. We can sign up to do a shift once a week, or even once every two months - the choice is yours and there is no pressure to do it regularly. The public come in to buy food for the squirrels or ducks, or leaflets about the many things to see in the park - such as the different trees, ducks, herons or wildlife. We try to answer their questions too, so there is a lot involved.

Being the organisation freak I am, I had noticed that there was a definite lack of volunteers and the Chairwoman of the Friends committee was also in poor health, so I temporarily took it upon myself to advertise for more volunteers in a local Facebook group and devise a Whatsapp rota where volunteers could sign on to do shifts. I ended up chasing for volunteers where there were gaps in the rota and ended up putting up new rotas for each month about six weeks in advance. Everyone has come to expect me as the rota manager now.

Somehow, I have also got embroiled in noting what information leaflets need updating, by whom and how to get them printed. I held my first meeting this week to get together those who are rewriting those leaflets and the finance director who will inevitably ending up paying for the reprints. It was a very successful meeting and now my role will be to chivvy/nag them into meeting deadlines. There is no point having an information centre, if you haven't got the relevant information to give out.

I may have also stuck my neck out by ordering some merchandise - children's animal bedtime stories, skipping ropes and small toys connected with nature - to sell in the centre too to raise some more income. Without trying too hard, I almost have a full-time job keeping everyone on their toes and making the park information centre a success. I'm currently trying to chase up the people who used to do two bat walks a year, as that seemed to dwindle with the advent of Covid. As for the annual music festival in the park, that may be another task for next year. The Chairwoman has asked me to consider being on the committee. I have so far managed to stay silent on that one. I much prefer to do things in the wings rather than in the spotlight.

Some visiting black swans

Cherry blossom in the spring

A pair of Egyptian Geese and a Canada Goose

Mandarin Duck

Digital Voice

Although I have a smart phone which I carry everywhere with me and find most useful for texting and looking up stuff on the internet, I still have a landline phone in the house. I hear better with it and it comes as an added extra with my broadband. I know a lot of people no longer have landlines, particularly the younger generation, but if their mobiles get stolen or lost then they are rather up the creek without a paddle until they can replace it, so I keep my landline going.

My landline is connected to three handsets on the same circuit. The main handset also has an answer machine which flashes, if I have messages to pick up. That is situated in my lounge. For those of you who don't already know, I live in a house with 6 half levels (SEE HERE), so it is convenient to have handsets dotted about that I can get to in a hurry, so I have another one in the kitchen, one in the study and one in the bedroom. The bedroom one was bought separately so is on a different circuit to the other three. For example, if I change the settings on the main/lounge handset, it will automatically correct the ones in the kitchen and study, but not the one in the bedroom. That one I have to do separately.

The UK, along with other European countries are now changing their phone networks from analogue to digital. British Telecom call it Digital Voice and have been gradually changing the connection to people's landlines over recent months. It was now my turn this week. I first received emails and texts that it would happen and then finally given the date of 5 November for my switchover from analogue to digital.

I woke that morning to find my phones were completely dead, which was the signal to start the switchover. According to the instructions previously sent to me, I was to plug my main phone handset into the router (which unfortunately is situated in my bedroom - not my choice as the main telephone cable comes in through there). The router and telephone would then communicate with one another and the switch would be complete. If, as was the case with me, you did not want your main phone plugged into the router permanently, you could send off for an adapter which you would plug into the router first to communicate with the router and then move the adapter to a room of your choice, where you would then plug in your main phone. I did not want my main handset and answer machine in the bedroom, but in the lounge, so opted to have the adapter sent to me, so I could set the main handset with its answer machine up in the lounge, as it had always been.

Given that I am not the best technology-gifted, I was a little apprehensive about all of this, but set to dismantling and reconnecting all the bits of equipment. To my delight, it seemed to work. The main phone reconnected to the adapter in the lounge and I rang my mobile to make sure I could still make calls. I then rang my best friend to make sure I could connect with other BT numbers. What I didn't know was if someone could still leave a message on the landline answer machine, so my friend promised to ring me back and leave a message. She did also say, that the answer machine might not work if my phone was set to answer with more than three rings (which it does after eight rings) so I had to fiddle about with that until I got the answer machine to work.

When I picked up the handsets in the kitchen and the study, the dialing tone sounded strange - like a throbbing rather than its usual continuous tone. In frustration what to do next, I contacted BT on my mobile and asked for help. A lovely patient man on the other end listened to my concerns and talked me through what to do. It seemed, having the message on the answer machine was affecting the dialing tone, effectively alerting me to the fact I had message. If I deleted the message, the dialing tone would return to its normal sound. Problem sorted. 

Once off the phone to BT, I checked my internet was working by turning on my laptop and TV package. No problems there. Then I went to connect the separate circuit handset in the bedroom. Of course I couldn't plug it back into the phone socket on the wall, as that was the analogue connection, so assumed I had to plug it into the router.  But it did not give off a dialing tone, so it looks like I won't be able to have that in the bedroom after all. No great problem, unless someone decides to ring me when I am in bed, as I shall now have to hare up or down a flight of stairs to get to the lounge or study handsets in time.

BT's promotional leaflets say the transition is simple. They should try living in a 6-storey house with 4 phones. By the time I had heaved furniture about in several rooms to access the various sockets and plug points, I was shattered.  Simple it most certainly wasn't.

To add to my misery, I had the second part of my shingles vaccination (Shingrix) four days ago. The first part was in May and I had no problem with it, apart from a slight ache in my upper arm where the needle went in. I had been warned the second dose to be done six months later was far worse and it did not disappoint a few days ago. On the second day my arm was so painful to touch, I had an area about two inches square around the injection site  that was swollen, bright red and covered in blisters. I felt overwhelmingly tired and cold, when everyone was telling me how mild the weather was (and I'm someone who never feels the cold). Finally my arm is beginning to resort to its usual colour and the pain and blisters are reducing somewhat. Thank goodness there isn't a third dose, but hopefully now I am protected against shingles, which can be very painful indeed.

Cecil Beaton

Earlier this week, I went up with some of my choir friends to the National Portrait Gallery in Trafalgar Square to see the Cecil Beaton exhibition. Somewhere in the back of my brain I knew the name, but I knew very little about the man or his work. It turned out to be a very interesting exhibition and very informative.

Cecil Beaton

Born in 1904, at the age of 12, he was given a camera by his nanny which he proceeded to use most of his life. In the 1920s and 1930s, he used it to photograph black and white portraits of his family and himself. He went on to mingle with debutantes and socialites, taking many pictures of beautiful women. What struck me most was how busy most of the backgrounds of his portraits were. 

He dallied with a career in New York for a while. He designed book jackets and even clothes and eventually took on work with Vogue magazine and Vanity Fair in 1927. He was fired in 1938 for making anti-semitic comments and returned to England.  During the war years, he worked at the Ministry of Information as a War Photographer, best known for his images of the damage done by the German Blitz, such as the little girl below. 

He ingratiated himself into the Royal Family and went on to take photos of Edward and Mrs Simpson, The Queen Mother and the Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret.

Portrait of Princess Elizabeth 1945

Princess Margaret on her 21st birthday

After the war, he took on Broadway, designing, sets for various productions. His many portraits included John Wayne, Gary Cooper, Marlon Brando, Truman Capote, Elizabeth Taylor, Greta Garbo and Katherine Hepburn to name a few. His most memorable work was the design of costumes and sets for My Fair Lady and he was a keen friend of Audrey Hepburn who played Eliza Doolittle.

Audrey Hepburn as Eliza Doolittle

Audrey Hepburn as Eliza Doolittle

From 1930 to 1945, Beaton leased  Ashcombe House in Wiltshire, where he entertained many notable figures. In 1947, he bought Reddish House, set in 2.5 acres of gardens, approximately 5 miles to the east in  Broad Chalke. Here he transformed the interior, adding rooms on the eastern side, extending the parlour southwards, and introducing many new fittings. He loved the house and remained there until his death in 1980. He is buried in the parish church there.

Reddish House, Wiltshire