2015 — 18 July: Saturday
I am not my brother's keeper1 and the "plan" he left me with is blank for today; I don't even know when he plans to show up on my drive. But I do know he's due to return from Swindon after his two-day epic aviation photo-shoot. Hopefully in time to whisk me up to Northampton tomorrow for a BBQ. No rest for the wicked. If I was his rental car I'd be feeling pretty hard-driven by now.
Given the pending ending...
... of his entitlement to concessionary airfares — a 'perk' of having been an airline VP in an earlier phase of his life — I suspect he may now curb his globe-trotting a little. Of course, he'd still like me to make a "look-see" trip to NZ myself, and I suspect there may be some mild family lobbying to that end over tomorrow's BBQ. I remain ambivalent. As I have for the last 40 years or so.
Christa and I didn't exactly keep "bucket lists", but if we had it would probably have been one of the items on hers — she loved to travel. There are by contrast a distinct lack of travel genes in the back pocket of my jeans. Though dear Mama's little "parting shot" does at least render the possibility economically feasible.
Watered down?
But I thought that only made the stuff 'stronger' and 'more effective'?
I was in appallingly blissful ignorance of the existence of such things as "concern trolls". Not any more.
Bliss
Austerity? How deeply depressing is this?
Austerity is not eight years of spending cuts, as in the UK, or even the social catastrophe inflicted on Greece. It means driving the wages, social wages and living standards in the west down for decades until they meet those of the middle class in China and India on the way up.
Today's plan...
... is now shaping up nicely. It initially involves lunch, hopefully Thai, just a few miles away.
And I am also very relieved to learn, albeit indirectly, that the security lady from Barclays with the almost unintelligible Indian accent did indeed release the Probate funds for transfer down to NZ. (They arrived in John's account within two days.) That officially puts the lid on Step #4 of my tasks as an Executor. So I am now free to wander into Barclays (having lost the use of my printer under Linux [I hope, only temporarily]) and close the two brand-new and completely drained accounts.
Four months, almost to the day. R.I.P. dear Mama! You will be toasted at lunchtime, I suspect.
Having watched...
... 25% of Season #4 of "Suits" yesterday evening (and quite enjoyed it in the usual "silly, glossy, light-weight American tosh" sort of way) I now have the rebooted Season #3 of "House of Cards" and the hilarious "Episodes, Season #4" stacked up in my input hopper.
I'll be saving these until the carrier of half my genome has set off for home, of course.
An enjoyable lunch...
... at "The Fox Inn", introducing John to my chums Gill and Chris via a nice chat and a cuppa, and speedily back down the A34 with little or no sign of the morning's horrendous queues. Excellent. Next on the agenda? A very light evening snack and a bunch of flickering pixels, I suspect. (Got to drag him away from the 350 photos he took at Fairford, obviously.)
Tomorrow's route is planned, and a couple of pressies are already sitting in the car. (Harder to forget, that way.)
Oh, dear
I note Bro's still capable of falling asleep while watching one of my films. Unlike last time (a mere 3,178 days ago) he had no wine to spill. We started with the Elmore Leonard "prequel" to "Jackie Brown" but fairly quickly moved on to "Twilight's Last Gleaming". Hard to believe that's 38 years old. I'd only watched it once before, on some late-night TV showing. It's fair to say it wasn't much appreciated on the far side of the Pond.