MOBILE SMOKE SIGNALS

One thing that’s not very good about Chichester is its mobile phone signal. In the city centre, it’s honestly quite non-existent or at best, shite.

Should you be wandering round the pedestrian precinct and need to get an urgent message to someone then I’d suggest using a carrier pigeon or smoke signals. Plenty of birds around the Cathedral although a few do get picked off now and then by the resident peregrine falcons nesting high up near the spire. Mobile phone signal? Forget it.

Word on the street is that this woeful telecommunications limbo is largely due to either the Church or the landed gentry (collectively, I shall call our neighbouring peers The Lord Snootys) because neither of these factions want mobile masts in the city centre.

‘It’s a conservation area, don’t you know’ seems to be the most common refrain when this subject crops up in the local papers. 

Conserving a Stone-age mentality instead of fostering the Fone Age we live in today. I know I’m a bit of a techno-dino myself but I do appreciate at least four bars of signal on my ancient Nokia instead of the pathetic trickle of network coverage achieved as soon as I step out of my front door.

Not only are local punters at a disadvantage but so too are the local businesses that operate in the middle of Chi. Lack of signal especially WIFI means that there are often times when cash registers fail to operate or card machines remain as dead as a dodo.

Cash is king. If you happen to be visiting Chichester for a nice day out of shopping then don’t forget to bring some hard readies with you just in case there’s a network outage.

If you want 4G, 5G or in fact any Gs at all then might I suggest one of those new-fangled satellite phones being widely advertised by O2. With a bit of luck, your signal might ping straight back from outer space enabling you to pay for parking at one of the city’s many cashless pay machines or settle your bill for a tasty snack in the myriad of cafes that unlike mobile masts abound in the city centre.

So, to remedy this situation who do I email first – The Pope or The Lord Snootys? No point asking our local MP as being a lily liberal, she’s wetter than a duck’s arse and reckons she’s done all she can to make things better. Which in reality means she’s probably done sod all!

Months ago, I actually emailed this very same MP in response to a consultation being run by our local council that asked residents what they thought the city’s priorities should be. I’m still waiting for a response to my enquiry about how telecommunication links should be boosted in this area.

As life in general revolves around a million and one phone APPS then it’s about time Local or Central Government decreed that telecommunications MUST BE top of everyone’s agenda regardless of whether you’re the Archbishop of Canterbury or descended from a dukedom.

In fact, I feel that mobile masts should be made a compulsory addition to all planning proposals for any new housing developments rather like putting in an electrical substation to assist in the transmission of energy in suburban areas. If the Government are going to force more housing onto the local community then let’s have the technological infrastructure to go with it.

Conservation areas are great in preserving the olde-worlde architectural heritage of Britain’s quaint towns or villages but surely not to the detriment of other aspects of modern life. As I'm sure I've said many a time on this blog, mobile phone masts could be positioned discreetly next to trees or camouflaged in some way to blend in with the surrounding area.  I’m certain Chichester isn’t the only conservation area in the whole kingdom that’s had to deal with this very situation. The reluctance to bring about telecoms improvement is beyond belief.

Centuries ago, the Church or Feudal Lords would have thrown their weight about in this manner to deny the peasants access to anything that might have made their downtrodden lives remotely better. I thought we’d moved on from those times but in Chichester, clearly not.

BLUE BADGER

Lord knows I try to be patient. And pleasant. After all, it isn’t their fault the pair of them have to share one brain cell between two people.  Maintaining a calm demeanour is not an easy task in the face of the administrative adversity which I encountered earlier today at my parents GP surgery.

Medical receptionists are a modern-day Medusa in my book. Most could turn you to stone with just a raised eyebrow. Not that I blame them because they’ve been assigned that most difficult of all roles - gatekeepers to health services which as we all know are not really interested in the welfare of their patients.

A chance encounter with Age UK at my local sports centre set me off on a path to obtain a Blue Badge disabled parking permit that I might be able to use when ferrying my elderly mother to and from her hospital appointments.

Mother, now approaching her 90th year, has lost the ability to walk any great distance. Her gait resembling a hot shoe shuffle rather than a striding step means that even the shortest journeys can seem like an epic quest worthy of Hobbits. Add to that mix an addled brain plus eyesight that’s one pup short of a guide dog, you can begin to understand why I thought a Blue Badge might have been the answer to my parking prayers.

Blue Badge? I’m beginning to realise it would be easier to get hold of a blue badger than one of these permits.

After a lengthy phone call with the local council to request a paper application form to kick start the process, it became clear that navigating the bureaucratic Blue Badge labyrinth was not going to be as easy as the tabloids make out because dearest mother is neither registered disabled nor claims any welfare benefits. These two trump cards unlock the magic parking portal. Blue Badge nirvana.

For those mere mortals not fortunate enough to fall into these two categories, an evidence-based application process must be pursued.

Exhibit 1, your Honour, a certificate of visual impairment. Exhibit 2 – medical evidence of mobility or other health related issues. Hang on, where’s Exhibit 2? Summon the general practitioner to the witness stand.

And so, I find myself standing in the dock at the doctor’s surgery with my carefully curated ‘evidence’ pack to ask for medical evidence to support my Blue Badge application. Enter Medusa.

I set out my opening statement in a respectful and friendly tone:

‘Hello (smile). I emailed a few weeks ago regarding a Blue Badge application and was told to bring my form to the surgery so you could help me pull it together.’

‘WE DON’T DO THAT HERE.’ snapped the super-officious mythical monster.

‘But I need medical evidence to confirm mum’s mobility issues.’ I tentatively ventured instantly realising I should have called Rumpole of the Bailey to handle my case rather than represent myself.

‘Well, we don’t do that.’ She insisted rather authoritatively as if I’d dared to ask her to pop a leech onto my chest in a bid to rid me of this hacking cough that’s set up a blockade of the lungs in Trumpian fashion.

‘Can’t I get a letter or something from the doctor to include with my form?’ I persisted.

‘I’ll ask but the doctor won’t normally do that.’ She growled almost relenting but not quite ready to give up her bone.

‘Okay. How about I leave my evidence pack with you to show one of your colleagues? If you really can’t help then I’ll come back to collect it later.’ My closing argument as I stop myself reaching into my handbag for a compact mirror so I can turn her to stone with her own reflection.

I appreciate there are blaggers out there who have somehow miraculously managed to bagsie a Blue Badge purely because they are too idle to walk a few steps to the supermarket and now local authorities have to tighten the screws.

Here’s what Doctor Google has to say about these things:

Blue Badge parking permits in England have reached a record 3.07 million, marking an 8% rise year-on-year to over 5% of the population. Driven by a 2019 expansion of eligibility criteria to include "hidden" disabilities, this surge has prompted councils to crack down on rampant misuse and theft.

Apparently Blue Badge fraud costs the nation over £46 million a year according to the AA so it’s no wonder you have to jump through so many hoops to get one although it does feel a tad unfair that the evidence-based process is not applied equally to all applicants in a bid to weed out those who don’t really need one.

In the meantime, time to dig out those dancing pumps Mother as we need to sand dance down to the Eye Hospital again. Shuffle. Shuffle. Shuffle.

WOOD PANELS - FINISHED

How the world of DIY online shopping has changed. A few years ago, I could place an order on B&Q’s website ready to click and collect at my local decorating superstore in the blink of an eye, paid for using e-gift cards collected over time.

And yes, whilst I can still do this from the comfort of my armchair I’ve noticed some subtle changes behind the scenes. I discovered earlier in the week that B&Q has gone the way of other retailers such as Amazon and become a ‘marketplace’ instead of a primary supplier.

What does this mean for those of us renovating on a budget? Well, for one thing there appear to be less products available on the website that qualify for click and collect because these are now coming directly from a different merchant and not B&Q themselves so costly delivery charges may have to be factored into your project budget.

Can't buy in store or click & collect any more

Secondly, if a product is being supplied by a company other than B&Q then you cannot pay for it using an electronic B&Q gift card. Discounts cannot be applied to marketplace merchants. Bugger!

Merchant is Akzonobel and not B&Q

More importantly if there are any issues with purchases made with merchants other than B&Q then you can’t simply walk into a store to seek redress because your contract is with said merchant. This could cause unnecessary stress or delays to a project particularly if items have to be returned or refunds obtained.

Intending to spend over £12 of e-gift card discounts on paint for my wood panels, I felt in some way robbed of the opportunity to shop savvy by this new online retailer practice. But where there’s a will, there’s a way especially when there are still colour mixing desks in store.

I trundled down to my local decorating superstore with my half-used tin of Dulux Heritage paint then got the colour mixing desk to rustle up a pot of furniture paint in the same shade (Green Earth). Okay so it’s not strictly speaking Dulux because they use Valspar paints which I’ve always found to be inferior in thickness/quality to the Heritage range but as its only the corridor then it will do. As my transaction is now deemed an instore purchase then e-gift cards can be used in part payment. Cheaper paint, no waiting for couriers to arrive or delivery costs incurred.

Armed with my freshly mixed Green Earth multi-purpose/furniture paint, I’ve thrown a coat of the stuff onto the wall panels. Money no object, I would have ripped out the original skirting board and replaced this with one that had a profile more sympathetic to my panelling but to trick the eye and disguise the ugly skirting board underneath the panels then I’ve painted that green too.

First coat of paint applied to panels

First coat looks a bit streaky so I suspect it’s going to take more than a couple of coats to get that nice even finish.

Streakier than a rasher of bacon

Here’s what the panels look like after a second application, less streaks although if I had enough energy I might have been tempted to put a third coat on just to be on the safe side.

Looks better after a second coat

Overall, I feel the colour drenching approach has created a different feel to the corridor than that of contrasting white wood panels but I guess it’s just a matter of taste.

Contrasting white panels

Colour drenched finish

To round off the project, I’ll give the architraves a coat of Jasmine White to freshen them up or perhaps I should go the whole hog on this colour drenching thing and paint them green too.

Once the plumber's hung the radiator back in place then it's phase II for the corridor - flooring.

WOOD PANELS - PAINTING

It’s been over 12 working days since I left the world of employment and what was meant to be my period of self-enlightenment (POSE) has instead turned into a calamine calamity. Shingles is not something I’d recommend so if you’re eligible then please spare yourself the agony and go get vaccinated. I will be beating down my GPs door for a dose of Shingrix as soon as I hit 65 as there’s no way I’m going through all this palaver again!

If I thought my spotty nightmare was bad enough, I’ve also been fighting off a bacterial chest infection since the middle of last week. ‘Not shingles related’ said my doctor smiling sympathetically whilst at the same time running through a checklist of potential candidates for the Virus of the Year award. Low immune system was her conclusion. No wonder they call your 60s the decade of disease, it’s just one thing after another.

Of course, most people stricken with these things would be tucked up in bed resting or molly-coddling themselves with soothing hot baths, rum toddies or a plethora of paracetamol but not me – I’m painting the corridor.

Masking up the primed panels

Getting everything ready for a paint job

Thanks to a small sunny window of opportunity, I’ve actually managed to paint the corridor walls above my wood panels which are still a work in progress (a bit like my retirement).

Green Earth walls above primed panels

Two good coats of Dulux Heritage Green Earth velvety matt paint later, I can now see the contrast with the white primed panels. Looks a little too stark for my liking maybe because I made the panel sections so big.

Are these panels TOO white?

The colour contrast may have worked better if I’d made my panels more of a tall, narrow shaker style type rather than going for large squares. Still, we are where we are.

And this is where AI would have been beneficial. Imagine having a computer programme where you could create a mock up of your empty room then tinker about adding wood panels, paint, wallpapers or other decorative features. Brilliant!

I suppose interior designers may already have CAD programmes that enable them to do this but it certainly would have made it easier to visualise the end outcome of this project if I could have produced a virtual reality version of what I wanted my decorated corridor to look like.

Maybe Microsoft could invent a free interactive ‘Changing Rooms’ website for those would-be decorators like me if they’ve got a few minutes to spare.

Cough!  Cough!  Cough!  Time for a rum toddy in a hot shower.