Following my announcement yesterday regarding the length of time an Indian Summer needs to be in order for it to actually be one, today was another beautiful, warm and sunny day. However, as Indian Summery as it felt, the park was certainly in no doubt as to the season.
The Avenue of Trees is covered in leaves as the trees begin to shed. This is very similar (though not quite as long) as our terrace. I know I complain every year but that’s because there seems to be more leaves every year. And before anyone makes the obvious point that the trees grow, we get ours lopped every couple of years.
My day started, as so many of my days start, with the gym then a lovely coffee at Nero’s before shopping then back home again. The walk home through the park was an absolute delight.
A lot of my day from here on in was involved with an almost constant stream of emails between me and the Boss of Volunteers at Portsmouth (Kirsty).
The thing is, I’d like a Naval Base Pass so I don’t have to keep annoying Heather and so I can just come and go without being escorted everywhere. Kirsty is the person who can start the acquisition off. To start we organised to meet next Tuesday to discuss the various hoops that I need to jump through. She also sent me a flowchart of the five steps required.
It didn’t take long for me to realise that I wasn’t going to get a Naval Base Pass. The identification requirements had me locked out forever.
The problems stem from a number of things.
Firstly, I don’t have a driver’s license because I choose not to drive. This single piece of plastic is universally required for everything.
Secondly, because I haven’t worked for many years, pay no tax or receive a pension, I don’t have anything official from the last 12 months with my NI number on it. Of course I HAVE an NI number but that’s irrelevant.
Thirdly, because I pay everything online and do the right thing by not having printed bills or statements sent to me, I don’t have anything official with my name and address on it. Not within the last three months, anyway. (This is a perennial problem and I’m surprised that people seem to not consider it when asking for bank statements, etc, particularly when they won’t accept something you’ve printed off yourself..)
Eventually I just told Kirsty not to worry about it. I’ll continue being escorted and if Heather doesn’t like it or if I’m forgotten again, I’ll just stop going. I’m sure I’ll get over it. I guess I’ll have to remain officially unofficial.
I also tried the beetroot – it was lovely.
My life is just one adventure after another…