David's blog

Earlier today, I saw a van on fire in the street. It’s since been removed after the fire brigade put it out, though they seemed to take ages to arrive, apparently coming from the next town. I’d just crossed the road after getting off the bus and noticed parcels scattered on the pavement, with a man I assumed to be the driver on the phone saying, “my van is on fire.” It didn’t really sink in until I walked past the front of the van, felt the heat, and saw flames. I asked someone nearby if they’d called the fire brigade—they had—and someone shouted at me to get water, but I didn’t want to get too close in case it exploded. Eventually, the fire brigade arrived and put it out. The van’s now gone, and I suppose they’ll be investigating the cause, though I’m no expert. I’d posted a video on social media to warn people and stop them using the road—it spread quickly online—but I’ve since taken it down, thinking that was for the best. The people wh wer expecting parcels have still not got them

I had a real blast from the past the other night in the pub. I spotted a woman I didn’t recognize, but she seemed to know people I knew. Eventually, I got to talk to her and learned she used to live around here before moving to London as a child, where she was originally from. She mentioned her parents had a shop in the next town, and her name slowly rang a bell through the brain fog and beer haze. When she told me, I asked if she had a brother named David—she said yes. I told her I remembered him, though she said she didn’t remember me. I had a vague recollection of her from my late teens when a bunch of us used to hang around her father’s shop. She was a bit younger than me so I guess I did not associate with her that much her brother is my age. I can’t clearly recall who else was there, though I have a feeling about one or two, one of whom has sadly passed.   I never expected to be transported back over 40 years into the mists of time. I remember those days as innocent ones...

It’s another dreary Sunday—cold and miserable. Even though the sun’s been out, it was much nicer this time last year. I’m not sure why I keep up with this blog since it doesn’t seem to have much of an audience, and maybe it’s time to just give it up. Abyway its another Sunday and the weather has been ok all week in fact its been quite nice I have finally decided to get new monitor, I think the old tv which I used as a monitor has had its day, the problem is, that I have to get rid of the tv now, it will not fit in the bin so it will involve me having to break it up I guess, which is not ideal but I am not paying the council to dispose of it or fly tipping it. Breaking up an old tv is not tha easy to do really a lot of screws to undo. While out walking earlier I saw a matress on the side of the road just under the bridge a few yards from here, who would want to fly tip in the middle of a village, the world is strange of place these days. Well its the easter weekend with its reduced publ...

I was hoping to go for a walk with a group on Thursday, but the weather was terrible, so it was cancelled. They said they would rearrange the walk and the talk, but I didn’t think it was for the same day. The walk was off, yet I got a text saying the talk was still on. I managed to make it there, though I wasn’t too keen on listening to someone talk about trees. Anyway, I gave it a try, and it wasn’t as heavy as I expected. They spoke about tree bathing, the Japanese practice of immersing yourself in a forest environment to reduce stress, enhance mindfulness, and support overall well-being. It’s about slowing down, being present, and appreciating nature with all your senses. I live quite close to woods so I guess I can give it a a go sometime. I was not aware that trees lived as long as they did, for thousands of years apparently, if they are not cut down, there is a drive to get trees planted much more than there use to be something to do with climate change. I have one growing in the...

  Have you ever opened a letter from a "professional" – a lawyer, bank, or government office – expecting clear advice or official notice, only to find yourself squinting at illegible scrawls, typos galore, and sentences that make no sense? You're not alone. What was once a hallmark of expertise has devolved into rubbish on paper. Let's unpack where it all went so wrong. The Golden Age of Professional Correspondence Picture this: the 20th century. Letters from professionals were crisp, typed masterpieces. Secretaries or typists ensured perfect grammar, logical flow, and readability. Even handwritten notes from doctors came with legible script trained through years of practice. These documents commanded respect because they looked professional – no smudges, no errors, no confusion. Standards were high. Legal firms proofread contracts multiple times. Banks used templates honed over decades. The result? Communication that informed, persuaded, and protected. The Digi...

Three years ago, I went to the hospital for a pain I’d been dealing with for years. They tried all kinds of treatments, but nothing worked, and eventually decided I might need some sort of intervention. I realized this when they handed me a piece of paper outlining the procedure and its awful side effects. I felt I had no choice, but hoped they’d explain more about it. No one told me anything beyond what was written.   was in pain and felt stuck, so I went ahead. When I got home, the side effects hit hard — they were awful. The treatment temporarily left me weakly incontinent, which was a horrific experience. You take control of your body for granted until it’s gone. If I’d been properly informed, I might have coped better. Instead, I was caught short in all sorts of places, which was frightening, and I worried it might never end. No one reassured me, and to this day I still have anxiety about it because it was so traumatic. I’m angry they didn’t warn me or explain the consequ...