All Change

Today, in 1485, the War of the Roses ended. Richard III died from being murdered and Henry VII, collecting the crown from where it had fallen beneath a hawthorn bush on Bosworth Field, became king. I hope he washed it first. Funny they both had the same sized heads, too. Or did he have to nip it into the local blacksmith and ask for a quick upsize or downsize? Was Henry VII a bighead or a pinhead? We shall never know...

And so times changed.

Things are always changing which irritates a lot of people because, generally, people don't like change. But there you go, change happens.

Last week Andy and I were up in the loft for 'Ruthless Clean Out Number Three.' This was because we have found ourselves with an unexpected house guest who brought with him a pile of lifetime possessions. At first, the aforesaid possessions were spread hither and thither around the house in any available corner that could take a box or a suitcase or a near-to-bursting carrier bag. But the Lady of the Manor (aka moi) knew that this state of cluttered affairs would do nothing for her already mildly frayed nerves, so she decreed thusly that a space be allocated in the loft for the storage of the new house guests tat/ guff/ accoutrements.

Up we went. We looked at stuff. Had we needed this/wanted this/ used this in the last year or so? No! Then out it went! Many trips to the tip. Many trips to the book bank and to the charity shop. We done good!

Next change was the rewriting of the address book. I bought a new one ages ago, with daisies in it and on it. It is very daisified. I went through the old address books, two thereof, and transfered up-to-date names and addresses. The old address books are VERY old. I had names and addresses of people in there whom I'd lost contact with, who'd moved house three times and whom had chosen not to keep in touch with us despite the sending of highly original MMM Christmas cards. I had names and addresses of people I couldn't even remember.

And then I went through my e-mail account and deleted myself from various newsletters and marketing doo-dahs that have gathered over the years. And some of those I can't remember signing up for either. I created a new e-mail account for professional 'n' business purposes, given that my current e-mail account has an odd name and I get odd looks when I give it to people of a professional 'n' business-like nature. My new account is very ordinary and sane and raises no eyebrows. Trouble is, I gave myself a password which (and this is VERY BAD for a teacher of English) I inexplicably misspelled when I set it up, so every time I go into it I spell the word of my password correctly, the log-in system tells me I've entered it incorrectly, I get mildly tetchy and say 'No, I haven't,' and then I remember I misspelled it, so enter the incorrect spelling BUT correct password and all is well and accessed. I must change the password.

There's a lot of change going on. I put it down to the approaching September factor. You know, that new-pencil-case feeling of an approaching academic year. It generally fades once a person leaves school but remains with those of us who have children and then perpetuate the phenomenon by doing something idiotic like becoming a teacher.

Other changes in the offing are a proposed hedge along the wall of the front garden (privet or hornbeam? Hmmm...decisions, decisions), serious exploration of the world of opera, and saying 'goodbye' to the allotment after six years.

Life is starting to look very tidy.