It's my money – and I'm not intending to spend it

The Economist published an excellent article headlined 'Baby boomers are loaded. Why are they so stingy?' [paywall] This excellent analysis was preceded by a leader entitled 'What penny-pinching baby-boomers mean for the world economy'. I now realise that my behaviour vis-a-vis money is nothing abnormal – it maybe a bit extreme, but it certainly follows a trend. 

The Economist writes in the leader of its 1 June issue: "The West's baby-boomers are the richest generation ever to have lived – but they do not spend like it. Instead, the elderly are squirrelling away money, motivated by ever-longer retirements, the risk that they will need to pay for old-age care, the inevitable uncertainty about how long they will survive and the desire to pass on assets to their children." The article continues: "Born between 1946 and 1964, baby-boomers are the luckiest generation in history. Most of the cohort, which numbers 270m across the rich world, have not fought wars. They grew up with strong economic growth. In aggregate they have amassed great wealth, owing to a combination of falling interest rates, declining housebuilding and strong earnings." 

Strolling around Poland's shopping malls, or watching the cinema ads (I have no TV), I can honestly say that I am not remotely tempted to spend money by what's on offer. Owning everything I need (and lots more stuff I no longer need – see this excellent blogpost about decluttering), I shrug my shoulders at the blandishments of businesses as they attempt to sell me things. On the other hand, I'm still working and earning. My outgoings are minimal (food, transport, entertainment) and with my UK state pension rolling in, my net worth increases every month.

On a call with my colleagues last week, I noted how much more expensive it is to be a woman than a man. The last time I went to a hairdresser was in 1995; soap, shampoo and toothpaste are the only body-care products I buy, and my clothes will last me a lifetime. My colleagues chided me for not injecting enough money into the economy! How right they are.

I have no need to show off. I don't own a car and ride my motorcycles sparingly (hot sunny days only). Senior discounts mean rail travel is 30% cheaper than it used to be. Food – I avoid the processed stuff, cook meals from scratch, and shop carefully to cut food-waste to zero. I am also not jetting around and will not be using up accumulated wealth to waste time or money seeing foreign countries that fail to resonate with my spirit. A long local stroll, such as the one I had this morning, is comparable in net joy to any similar walk I could have taken anywhere else on earth. All this is in keeping with my personal de-growth manifesto. 

Doing my bit not to screw up the planet any further by buying unnecessary baubles, my tightfistedness in face of the retail sector is also due to concerns about climate change.

However, as The Economist points out, if 270m rich old people reduce their spending to no more than what they need (having learned to curb their wants and resist advertisers' persuasive pitches), the global economy will splutter to a halt. 

What could I spend my money on? Well, I have a building project or two that I'd love to carry out, but that means finding a solid, local, builder with whom I could get on well with and who wouldn't walk away with the job 98.5% completed. 

And finally – what's left? A solid cash reserve for advanced old age (which will not be cheap, given how many seriously old people will be dependant on so few people of working age). Looking at the Polish statistical office's demographic projections, should I get to 100, I'd be one of 17,000 Poles of that age or more in Poland in 2057. The number of centenarians in Poland today? A mere 1,200. Meanwhile the number of young Poles currently entering Poland's labour market is around half of what it was 20 years ago, and it's only going to get worse. 

One worry I have is that wealth disparities will increase dramatically as an avalanche of bequests passes down from my generation to an ever-decreasing number of grandchildren and great-grandchildren, born into wealth and entitlement. Freedom from discomfort, hunger, homelessness and disease is a noble aim, but luxury is bad for the soul and bad for our planet. Leaving an educational endowment makes great sense too, at life's end.

This time two years ago:
As I walked out one midsummer's morning

This time nine years ago:
Central Warsaw rail update

This time 12 years ago:

Poland's night train network

This time 13 years ago:
On a musical note

This time 14 years ago:
Standing stones

This time 17 years ago:
The year nears its zenith

Qualia compilation 9: Summer, mid-1960s Isle of Wight

Here's another family-holiday qualia flashback that resurfaces frequently into my stream of consciousness; two summer holidays (1963 and 1964) on the Isle of Wight. One such moment occurred this morning. I was lying awake in bed – then suddenly, entirely unbidden, but maybe triggered by a congruent play of light on the retina and air temperature, I am back in the Victorian house that my parents and their friends had rented for two weeks over those two summers.

I have had this memory often enough in the recent past to check it out online. I remembered 'Bembridge, Isle of Wight', but in fact it was St Helens, a village just to the north of Bembridge. (Google Maps shows the house as being on Mill Road, close to the junction with Lower Green Road. Across the beautiful green, as classic a village green as one can get in the British Isles, was Upper Green Road, and on it the shops.

Here, I would badger my mother into buying me toys; and it was this memory which struck me this morning. There was a set of toy soldiers marked 'EMPIRE MADE' that she wouldn't buy me, because of the red paint of their tunics contained lead, and my baby brother might put them into his mouth. I came to see that embossed lettering, 'EMPIRE MADE' as a warning sign for children, a byword for dangerous and shoddy goods. 

Below: Isle of Wight, summer of 1964; my brother is one and half years old, with my father. Photographer unknown.

Another memory rolled in; a bright sunny morning when I woke early and my father spontaneously decided than he and I should go for a stroll down to the sea in Bembridge. We walked down Mill Road until we reached the marina; I recall the clanking of cables and ropes on the masts of the yachts moored there and the cries of seagulls. I was disappointed by the lack of a beach, However, this was more than made up for by the treat that followed; an open-topped double-decker bus came round the corner, my father hailed it at a request stop that was conveniently situated near us, and we boarded, going upstairs. As it was early, the bus was nearly empty, so we took seats right at the front, by the glass windscreen. The conductor came up to sell us our tickets, but the journey was very short; it was only two stops before we had to get off at the green in St Helens. Below: a bus just like this one! [Photo courtesy of Southern Vectis]

This is all totally credible. Memories are like that. But here's another flashback. It's Thursday evening on the działka, nice and warm. 

I step out of the shower. My right foot lands on the bathmat, my left heel lands on the cold stone floor. I'm glancing over at the towel rack. At that moment – PAFF! I'm in a hotel in Kansas City or Oklahoma City, mid 1950s; I'm a man in his thirties, the hotel is large and brick-built, from the end of the 19th century or early 20th century. The combination of haptic input (cold on the heel, warm air) and and sight (chromed towel rack on a tiled bathroom wall) brought a sensory congruence that I immediately recognised. For a fraction of a second I was there. It felt just as real as my memory of the Isle of Wight from 60 years ago.

This time five years ago:
Quantum jumps, quantum luck and the atomic will

This time six years ago:
Under the sodium

This time seven years ago:
"Further progress? Hell yes!"

This time 16 years ago:
The 1970s and the 2000s

Summer sleepers – night-train timetable update

The railway timetable changed yesterday, and with it came changes to Poland's night-train network. Trains with sleeper carriages are, in my opinion, an excellent way of getting to distant destinations; your ticket is both a means of travel and a bed for the night.

IC 18170 Uznam Warszawa Wschodnia - Świnoujście (dep. 21:53 arr. 07:17). A later start from Warsaw; it means arriving in Szczecin Główny at a reasonable 05:28, about half an hour before opening time at the station's KFC). Arriving at Świnoujście at a humane 07:17, you can get across the Świna on a Bielik ferry, from the other side of the river, it's a 20 minute walk to the beaches. It also calls at Międzyzdroje at 07:07, another resort popular with Germans as well as Poles.

IC 81170 Uznam Świnoujście - Warszawa Wschodnia (dep. 21:07 arr. 06:31) is the return service, taking slightly longer to return to the capital. Taking the Uznam there and back gives you the best part of 12 hours on the beach. With a hotel or apartment from Saturday to Sunday, you can get a full weekend of Baltic sun-and-sea having worked Friday and be back in your Warsaw office first thing Monday morning

TLK 16170 Karkonosze Warszawa Wschodnia - Jelenia Góra (dep. 22:02 arr. 07:12). The biggest single change to the summer sleeper-train schedule is that this train now only goes as far as Jelenia Góra, so you cannot travel on to Szklarska Poręba as you can in winter. A popular skiing destination, it seems that in the summer months it's no longer worth PKP's while to take the train beyond Jelenia Góra, which is sad. The train goes through Wrocław (at very early 04:47) and Wałbrzych Miasto (at 06:06) – and is a great way of getting to the fabulous Książ castle before the crowds turn up.

TLK 61170 Karkonosze Jelenia Góra - Warszawa Wschodnia - (dep. 21:02 arr. 06:06) is the train back; again, you can be at your desk in Warsaw first thing Monday morning. 

TLK 38171 Ustronie Kraków Główny - Kołobrzeg (dep. 21:00 arr. 10:44). Seaside-special for folks from Poland's south, which calls Kielce, Radom, Warsaw and the Tri-City and on to the resorts of Ustronie Morskie and Kołobrzeg. The train takes a full hour-and-half longer to do the journey than it did in winter. You can use this train as a nocturnal connection between Warsaw East (01:29) and Gdańsk Główny (05:38), though with four hours between the two cities, you'll not get much quality sleep time.

TLK 83171 Ustronie Kołobrzeg - Kraków Główny (dep. 19:45 arr. 09:12). Passing through Warsaw at 04:11. Again, taking over an hour longer than in the winter timetable.

TLK 35171 Karpaty Zakopane - Gdynia Główna (dep. 20:06 arr. 08:29). Finally, the train runs all the way, without the need for a replacement bus service for the Zakopane to Kraków leg. The Karpaty also serves as another nocturnal connection between Kraków, Warsaw and the Tri-City (dep: Kraków Główny 23:34, calling at Warsaw Central at 04:28).

TLK 53170 Karpaty Gdynia Główna - Zakopane (dep: 19:18 arr 07:42) An unfeasibly early hour for a sleeper to depart, but this makes for a convenient night service for Varsovians heading for the Tatras; it passes through Warszawa Gdańska at 23:03 and Kraków at 04:48. At last the Polish mountains are connected to the Polish sea by night train again.

And now the two sleeper train services that miss Warsaw altogether...

IC 83172 Przemyślanin Świnoujście - Przemyśl Główny (dep. 17:55, arr. 09:08). Fifteen hours and 13 minutes (half an hour quicker than in the winter timetable). The bad-boy of all Polish train journeys, more than 986 kilometres (612 miles) all the way, connecting the south-east and north-west extremes of the country. An early-evening start from Świnoujście, but there's a dining car attached – the Przemyślanin is the only sleeper train with a gastronomic wagon. Given the nature of night trains, moving from your compartment to the restaurant means having to arrange this with the sleeping-car attendant. The carriages are delivered to Świnoujście station an hour or more before departure time, so you can leave your stuff in the sleeping car (it's safe), and dine en route to Szczecin (18:52) or even as far as Poznań (22:14) before returning to your bunk(s). The train also calls at Wrocław, Katowice, Kraków and Rzeszów on the way, thus serving six of Poland's 16 provincial capitals. An InterCity train with modern sleeper carriages, superior in comfort to the stock used on TLK night connections.

IC 38172 Przemyślanin Przemyśl Główny-Świnoujście (dep. 18:15, arr. 10:07). The same route, backwards, and a useful connection (as I once found out) to travel between Kraków to Poznań (dep. 22:14, arr. 04:50), though of course pre-booking is necessary.

Finally, a third service connecting the Kraków with the Tri-City by night, this one skipping Warsaw.

TLK 53172 Rozewie Gdynia Główna - Kraków Główny (dep. 22:36, arr. 08:29) drops down from the coast through Gdańsk, Bydgoszcz, Poznań (02:45) headed to Wrocław (04:58), Opole and Katowice.

TLK 35172 Rozewie Kraków Główny - Gdynia Główna (dep. 19:59, arr . 05:58).  It zig-zags its way back north, again connecting the cities of Katowice, Opole, Wrocław, Poznań, Bydgoszcz and Gdańsk. 

Prices? Essentially, take the price of the normal second-class seat from A to B, multiply by two and half, and add that sum to the price of the seat. So around 300-350 zł tops, minus discounts for age etc. Last month, I payed 220.60 zł for Świnoujście to Warszawa Zachodnia for a two-berth sypialny, for example, with my 30% senior's discount. On the way out, I was fortunate to have the compartment to myself; on the way back another passenger boarded at Szczecin. Three-berth is cheaper; a compartment for oneself is also available, but requires the purchase of a first-class ticket so it works out about twice the price of a two-berth compartment. Couchette accommodation (no bedding, six bunks to the compartment) is the cheapest way. Seat-only night travel by train is excruciatingly awful; avoid it unless you are desperate.

Resources: Here's PKP's online timetable checker. For the phone, I recommend the Koleo app, as well as the clunkier Portal Pasażera app, which has the bonus of showing you in more-or-less real time where your awaited train actually is. Both available on Google Play and no doubt on whatever it is that Apple has. In Polish only, a somewhat dated page from the InterCity.pl website about sleeper and couchette services. This mentions deluxe compartments (single and double) that have an en-suite toilet and shower. Wow, but I've never seen such a thing on domestic services (unless the Przemyślanin has one). 

There's also the international night train. This is the 19:34 departure from Warszawa Wschodnia, the Chopin (Warsaw-Vienna-Munich); attached to it are carriages for three other European capitals – Prague, Bratislava and Budapest. This very long train travels down to Kraków and over the border to Bohumin in Czechia, where the carriages for Prague are detached. The rest of the train continues to Ostrava, where the train is split up further; carriages of the Chopin service continue on their way to Vienna and Munich, whilst the EN407 goes to Budapest via Bratislava. However, it's still impossible to buy tickets for these services via the PKP app. 

This time last year:
Conscience, consciousness and sensitivity

This time two years ago:
Little annoyances and optimising one's life

This time three years ago:
The 13th thirteenth

This time four years ago:

Ghastly June day in London

This time five years ago:
Perfect weather week in Warsaw

This time six years ago:
Further progress is unimaginable

This time seven years ago:
Baletowa reopens as rail works move on

This time eight years ago:
Polish doctors in UK offer new healthcare model

This time 13 years ago:
The closure of the Góra Kalwaria - Pilawa railway link

This time 15 years ago:
My blazing bus pic gets on front page of Gazeta Stołeczna

This time 16 years ago:
Storm clouds rising

Ławki and Hill 126

Further explorations on foot from Jakubowizna, uncovering territories new. Across the DK50 northward I go, through Sułkowice, across the Czarna river and the railway line towards Budy Sułkowskie and then into the forest. I've not been here before. Soon after leaving the road, the trails become unclear, overgrown; in one place a bee-keeper has installed an apiary right across a forest track, fencing it off and watching over it  with CCTV cameras. I detour around the humming beehives, through the undergrowth, picking up the track on the other side. It runs through low-lying land and, filled with water, resembling more and more a stagnant river as I navigate its fringes. After a while, I make it onto drier land. 

Below: boggy ground – it looks solid enough, but the ground is sodden.

Below: The terrain starts to rise. The forest takes on a different character, there are more pines, the soil sandier. Strong sunlight streaming through the trees sets off that wonderful smell of coniferous resin, reminding me of summer holidays in Stella-Plage. 

A footpath takes me further up the hill, until I reach the summit, at a height of 126m above sea level (and about 14m higher than the boggy ground I'd just traversed). Below: view from the top of Hill 126, the highest point in the forest. Here, it becomes my sad duty to have to pick up and stow in my rucksack scattered litter including plastic water-bottles, a beer can, empty vape liquid containers and bits of broken bicycle light. I later dispose of these responsibly in a waste bin. How can anyone leave their shit up here is beyond me.

Below: the OpenStreetMap view of the forest (click to enlarge, open image in new tab and see at full scale). I walked through the entire forest from south-east to north-west without encountering a soul.

Below: ulica Główna (Main Street) in Ławki (as I've point out before, Ławki literally means 'little benches'). Note the amenities: a bus stop integrated into the Warsaw WTP agglomeration public transport network; a pedestrian-friendly speed limit; five-a-side football pitch, play park and outdoor fitness apparatus. Plenty of new houses; new asphalt links either end of this stretch of village road with Gabryelin and Biały Ług. The bus serving Ławki, by the way, is the L19, one of the L-for-Local routes that provide services across the nine poviats (districts) bordering Warsaw. As Ławki lies in the southernmost part of the Piaseczyński poviat, the L19 (which starts its journey from Pieczyska) goes further south than any other bus route in the WTP system. But Chynów is in Grójecki poviat; being the next poviat out beyond Piaseczyński and not bordering Warsaw directly, we don't get any WTP L- routes out our way.

Below: Ławki – where the streets have twee names. I've mentioned this phenomenon before in a blogpost about Polish street names – full-on Polnische Romantizmus. I can imagine a meeting of ladies in floral dresses at the local town hall coming up with these: from the top – Wild Corner Street, Spellbinding (or Bewitching) Street, and Morning Dew Street. These new street names are in keeping with the spirit of our age. Streets named after famous people or historical dates are so passé.

Having missed a southbound train by a few minutes at Czachówek Południowy, I continue northward to the next station, Czachówek Górny, at the centre of the Czachówek diamond, where the Warsaw-Radom line crosses the Skierniewice-Łuków line. While waiting for the Koleje Mazowieckie train to take me the three stations back to Chynów, I snap this empty coal train heading east (below), hauled by ET22-669. This freight-only line is busy; a few minutes later, an aggregates train heads west towards Skierniewice.

This really is a most beautiful time of year; my favourite quarter – from the vernal equinox to summer solstice. It's worth making the most of days like these. Total of over 19,000 paces walked today.

This time six years ago:
Warsaw-Radom

This time nine years ago:
Civilising Warsaw at the local level

This time ten years ago:
Rustic retreat rained off

This time 12 years ago:
Thunderstorm over Jeziorki

This time 13 years ago:
Getting lost on top of Łopień

This five 15 years ago:
Regulatory absurdities in Poland

This time t6 years ago:
Czachówek and Alignment

This time 17 years ago:
Joy, pain, sunshine, rain

Vote for Europe

Poland votes tomorrow in the European parliamentary elections. It's been 20 years since Poland joined the EU, a period of remarkable social and economic progress in Poland. And Poland's governance has improved greatly, at local as well as at national levels, with much best-practice absorbed from other EU states. Tragically, the UK has cut itself off from the EU, to the detriment of its own economy, and for Poland, Brexit has led to the loss of a mentor and a natural ally in Brussels as a counterweight to the Paris-Berlin axis.

We vote tomorrow – but what's at stake? 

One major problem that the EU has when selling itself to the public is its complexity. Complexity is both a feature and a bug. On the one hand, the EU is not a hierarchy led by a single strongman. Billionaires know whom to phone in London or Washington to get things their way. But having distributed centres of power (the Council of the European Union, the European Commission and the European Parliament) makes it harder for corrupt actors to bend the system their way. And harder for the average voter to understand.

This very complexity doesn't sit easily with the uncurious. Simplicity and strongmen is what many crave. Simple answers to intractable problems, simple answers that they can understand; all too often simple answers that are wrong.

Even I, who have travelled to Brussels four times to meet with MEPs and lobbyists to get a better understanding of how the EU functions, even I who follow the Politico EU newsletter daily, even I have only the sketchiest understanding of the complex machinery at the heart of the European Union and how it really works. So – question to my Polish readers: do you know (without looking up) your Euro-parliamentary constituency and its boundaries? How many MEPs represent your constituency? Which party are they from? I certainly didn't know, despite having voted in every one of Poland's post-2004 European elections. 

But does it even matter?

Right now, there are three major issues facing Europe; Russian aggression, climate change and the Green Deal, and migration. A further issue is Europe's flagging competitiveness in the global economy.

Russia's military doctrine of using information warfare against the West means that discontent is being weaponised, and social media is proving an ideal conduit. Social media has removed the filter from social discourse. Bad actors can speak directly to the discombobulated, at scale. The result, in terms of democracy, has been that lies can spread through society with devastating effect (see Brexit). 

Checks and balances, devolved power, consensus and compromise, may not be sexy, but at the end of the day this form of governance works better than the strongman governance model. By any metric, former USSR republics now in EU membership are wealthier, healthier and happier than those currently under an authoritarian or totalitarian leader. 

We need to learn to look at the big picture, and not focus on the grit in our shoe. Human progress from barbarism and might-is-right towards Western democracy has not been easy or painless. Western democracy could do better. It will evolve, and it will ultimately prove itself superior to totalitarianism.

Below: Warsaw, 4 June 2024, on the 35th anniversary of the elections that brought communism to an end in Poland, a rally called by prime minister Donald Tusk. He reminded us that democracy is not a one-way process and can be turned back. Note the singular absence of young people. With no memories of the bad old days of communist dictatorship, they have become complacent. I hope tomorrow's turnout will be higher than the 45.7% in the 2019 European election...

Europe could be governed better. But historically, and looking at its neighbours – and looking at its history – it could also be a whole lot worse. Let's be thankful for what we've got, and vote tomorrow to make sure it gets no worse, by preventing populist wreckers from getting into the European parliament.

This time two years ago:
Savants, UFOs and psychic abilities

This time three years ago:
A proud moment

This time four years ago
Rail progress - Krężel to Chynów

This time nine years ago:

Aberdeen, dour city

This time 11 years ago:
Fans fly in for the football

This time 13 years ago:
Cara al Sol - part II

This time 14 years ago:
Still struggling with the floodwaters

This time 15 years ago:
European elections - and I buy used D40

The time 16 years ago:
To the Vistula, by bike

This time 17 years ago:
Poppy profusion

Qualia compilation 8: Eye operation

As a child, I had a pronounced squint. Attempts at curing it by taping over one lens on my National Health Service spectacles to 'train the lazy eye' failed. So, at the age of nine, I was directed to the Moorfields Eye Hospital for an operation. As a procedures go, it was relatively easy, something that I could understand; the surgeon would cut away some muscle tissue in the corner of my left eye which was pulling it inward.

To get to Moorfields, we took the Underground, a wonderful experience for me. The Piccadilly Line from Boston Manor, flashing by the stations between Acton Town and Hammersmith, then diving underground after Baron's Court. The atmosphere of the tube train was exciting and unforgettable. I must have made the journey two or three times, visiting the hospital before the operation, the operation itself – and then maybe for a check-up later. 

Though I have taken many tube train journeys since, those first ones that still stick with me, the long dark tunnel, the noise, the cables running alongside the track, the tiled stations, the atmosphere of times long past. [Incidentally, the Piccadilly Line opened in December 1906, so the stations then were only a little older in early 1966 than my memories of the qualia I experienced at that time are today.] Moorfields Eye Hospital was opened in 1899, of a similar vintage to the Piccadilly Line.

The children's ward was large; my bed was by one of the large windows. Tiled from floor to ceiling with Edwardian nursery-rhyme illustrations – Little Bo Peep, LIttle Jack Horner, Little Miss Muffett, Little Boy Blue – I felt I was too grown for such a place. In the bed next to mine was a girl called Fiona, the first time I'd ever encountered a girl with such a posh name. My parents bought me a Corgi Toys Chrysler Imperial convertible, and Profile Publications on the Boeing B-29 Superfortress and Messerschmitt Me-262 jet fighter.

Before the operation, I had changed into my Paisley-patterned Marks & Spencers Winceyette pyjamas (specially washed and ironed for the occasion by my mother) and a nurse gave me something to make me go to sleep. I remember that pill having a strange effect on me; I became hyperactive, bouncing manically around my bed. Then, quickly, I lost consciousness.

When I awoke, my left eye was patched up; the next morning the patch was removed, the surgeon looked at my eye, made me follow his pencil with my gaze and judged the operation a success. My mother said she knew it would be, because my surgeon had shiny shoes, the mark of a fastidious character.

One side-effect of losing my squint (apart from no longer having to wear glasses) was that my eyes were in focus at a distance. Before, when in Elthorne Park, I couldn't see its westernmost fringes with any clarity; I thought the park stretched out to America. Now being able to resolve detail at optical infinity, I could see where the part ended, the canal and the farm beyond; part of the magic of childhood had vanished.

This time last year:
A date for the history books

This time three years ago:
WinterCity/SummerCountry

This time four years ago:
Homage to Americana

This time five years ago:
This land is my land

This time nine years ago:

The day, seized.

This time 12 years ago:
Classic British cars for British week

This time 13 years ago:
Cara al Sol - a short story

This time 14 years ago:
Pumping out the floodwater

This time 15 years ago:
To Góra Kalwaria and beyond

This time 16 years ago:
Developments in Warsaw's exurbs

SIXTY SIX AND TWO THIRDS

A milestone 'birthday', every bit as important as 50 or 75, yet passing unnoticed by most people. Today I* am exactly two-thirds of a century old. Eight months have passed since my 66th birthday; my 67th birthday is four months away. We seem to ignore thirds. Today also happens to be the 35th anniversary of the parliamentary elections in Poland that resulted in the communist government losing power – yet the third-of-a-century anniversary came and went on 4 October 2022, unnoticed. (And yes, that day also happened to be my 65th birthday.)

I was born on the same day as Sputnik 1 was successfully launched into orbit, making me exactly as old as the Space Age. My birth was also bracketed by what was as the time, the world's worst and the world's second-worst nuclear accidents (Kyshtym, USSR a week before and Windscale, UK, a week after). The world has changed, the world hasn't changed. Below: AI-generated image, prompted as a celebration of this milestone that I have accorded to myself.

As I get older, I find myself becoming more and more like my father. Noticing, counting, measuring. filling in spreadsheets. 

New toilet roll today? The last one has lasted me since 26 April. The daily exercise and diet spreadsheet is now in its 11th year. As medical evidence about the importance of muscular strength into old age builds up, I continue fighting on to beat last year. (One thing I can see is if you don't use it, you lose it – quickly. If I drop doing, for example, press-ups or pull-ups for a few days, it's hard to get back up to that same number even after a week or more.) The daily exercises are also important for building resilience against twists, sprains and falls. And crucially, skeletal flexibility, so my vertebrae don't fuse together (my father was bent over double in advanced old age).

And indeed, from today, I have added the countdown to my 100th birthday, it is 12,175 days away. Will I make it? It is my will to do so; whether my will aligns with the Cosmic Purpose is another matter! Genetically, there's hope (my father died at the age of 96, my mother at 88), environmentally too (I exercise more than my parents and eat a far healthier diet than my cake-loving mother). And there's the spiritual aspect too.

Gratitude is all important. I offer that conscious expression of gratitude several times a day, for health, for peace and security, for food, for all the good that surrounds me. I know I must never take any benefit for granted, nor consider myself entitled to anything.

My spiritual views on life are becoming clearer as a grow older. [Note – grow older. One should grow spiritually, gaining wisdom with age.]

All who seek God (however one chooses to define God) shall find God in their own way. There are myriad paths to transcendence.

My own path? The material and spiritual are separate and yet one; science and religion should get ever closer, until both ways of looking at the Cosmos can finally agree on the nature of reality.

* My body and its ego. The consciousness that's subjectively observing from this bodily platform is eternal.

This time last year:
Marching for Openness and Normality
(People – we did it!)

This time three years ago:
40th anniversary of the Osieck railway accident

This time four years ago:
Moonrise, Nowa Wola

This time five years ago:

Awaiting the Summer Sublime

This time eight years ago:
4 June - a date remembered for...?

This time nine years ago:
Corpus Christi, rural Mazovia

This time ten years ago:
25th anniversary of Poland's transition

This time 11 years ago:
Poland's infrastructure progress

This time 13 years ago:
Wetlands in late-spring

This time 14 years ago:
Jeziorki's flood of floods: Puławska and Pozytywki

Jeziorki's flood of floods: Sarabandy and Karczunkowska

Jeziorki's flood of floods: Trombity and Kórnicka

This time 15 years ago:
Another time, another place