Last night, the two carers putting Meg to bed were the young Asian male worker who we have got to know very well over the months and a new recruit who was assisting him and was on only her second visit to our house. However, she is the mother of three young children so there are practically few problems that she not yet encountered and although she was learning the intricacies of her new role, we thought she was a 'natural' and did all of the right things. Now I am asking all of the carers who come to the house if there is any of my book stock that might interest either members of their own family or nieces and nephews a generation below them. As part of the shelving that I am shortly to clear, I found two little books, one a pocket-sized encyclopedia and the other a 'Little Book of Facts'. I also had in my possession an absolutely beautifully illustrated children's encyclopedia which I bought from a charity shop for Meg over a year ago now and which I thought would engage her interest in her then state of health. But, sadly, this book is now beyond the comprehension of Meg and so, with a slightly heavy heart, I added this book to the other two and then offered all three to the care assistant for her children. She told me that all of her children were avid readers and she looked absolutely delighted at the gift of the books and thought that her children would really enjoy them. Needless to say, it gives me a great deal of pleasure that these books will be removed (unread) from my bookcase and put into the hands of a younger generation who will appreciate them so I am off to a start with my book disposal activities. I roughly estimate that we have about 700 books in the study and another 300 split around various locations in our main lounge so now only another 997 to go. I think one of the newer care workers who is due round later on in the day might be interested in the odd one or two. The last time I got rid of a whole series of books was when my collection of sociology books had been relegated to the garage where we used to live in Leicestershire. It always amused me that in the garage, one of my social policy books which might be regarded as 'soft and pappy' by some academics had been well and truly chewed by a mouse but the much harder and more analytical hardback book on the principles of Marxist economics had proved indigestible to the said mouse who had left it unscathed. I made a start on tackling one of the corners of my study where I have several files of papers stored on a high stool. Making some progress in this direction I even went out to where I had dragged my paper collection bin at the end of our drive, ready for collection the first thing the following morning, to ensure that even more redundant printouts could join the almost overflowing bin.
Yesterday morning, I was just about finishing breakfast with Meg when the carer turned up as the ' sit' session whilst I go out and do the shopping. Whilst I was out, she entertained herself a little by reading 'The 100 - a ranking of the most influential persons in history' written by a certain Michael Hart. After she had departed, I put on YouTube to see what they had to offer and started to enjoy the first selection that the channel had made for me which was a rendition of Bach's Matthew Passion. This was playing when the two carers came to make Meg comfortable in the late morning and, as we had some time to spare, I pointed out to them that I was introduced to Matthew Passion at an early age of about 14 and explained how we had two music lessons a week, one being standard musical theory and the other being a life of a great composer. I explained how the school I attended had a reasonable but certainly not outstanding musical tradition and that I was in the choir and 'de facto' leader of the 2nd violins in the school orchestra. But the outstanding part of the school's musical tradition came from the brass band of which I was not a member. I explained how the band used to participate in the 'Whit walks' held in all of the Lancashire cotton towns. Not having heard of the Whit walks, I took the two carers into our study to show them the illustration of the Whit walks in a Lowry print that we had, explaining the Lowry style (adored by some, hated by others) This led onto the explanation that our son played the clarinet (cue a quick YouTube rendition of the Mozart clarinet concerto) before his interest in the clarinet waned under the combined influence of young women, railway engines and photography. I explained also how in the 6th form the all boys school Martin attended joined forces with a nearby girls school to produce a play one year and an operatic production the next. Our son had a part in an Offenbach production where much to the horror of some of the more prudish mistresses the highlight of the girls contribution to the opera was a performance of the can-can. The masters of the boys school, the male pupils and the female pupils all enjoyed this tremendously whilst the prudish mistresses of the girls school had to endure the sight of what they imagined to be the pure and virginal girls under their charge perform a high kicking can-can. All of this was eye-opening to the two carers, one quite young and other in her thirties and I appreciate now how very non-uniform of the different cultural influences at work in the UK. I honestly did not want to be a show-off but just to provide an explanation of how one's tastes came to be formed. And so, we came to lunch which was an interesting combination of various elements being some Ravioli (from Italy), some 'Spicy Chorizo and Chilli Cheddar rollitos' (from Spain, ex-Aldi) and supplemented by an Indian samosa ( donated to us by our Asian neighbours).
© Mike Hart [2025]