My Press Release in English on the curious statistical phenomenon of the increase in Polish speaking children in UK schools, despite the reduction in the number of Poles in the UK since Brexit, has been published in the London Polish Weekly. But not a word has been printed in that newspaper from my article about the failure of the SPK Trust to sell the Polish Centre in Kirkcaldy. As I expected, the SPK has muzzled the Polish Weeekly, because its owner, the Polish Cultural Foundation, needs SPK's financial support to fund its new website. Perhaps the Londynek.net website may publish something, as they did ask about ownership of the two photos which I sent. Perhaps too, Cooltura may want to publish.
I got a call from a friend at POSK who told me that the POSK Council meeting last Saturday ended disastrously after I left. Once the minutes of the three successive meetings were cleared up, the meeting broke out into a very bitter and personal confontation over how the new Chairman of POSK was to be elected in October. I had originally raised this at the July meeting and the conclusion had been to have a vote only of those members present at the AGM, plus those who had left a proxy vote. However, Marek Laskiewicz desperately wanted to ramrod through a postal ballot, knowing he had a much better chance of winning that way, as many of the voters would be unaware of the omnishambles in the POSK administration. The battle ended in a draw, as it transpired that so many Council members had left the meeting. As it was now inquorate, the meeting was adjourned.
On Friday night I travelled down to Clapham to join George Scibor's 75th birthday party. I managed the the bulk of the car journey from Brentford in just about an hour, but at the last minute I took an earlier turning off the South Circular than I should have done. I found myself driving down a footpath on Clapham Common. There were no sign telling me I had taken a wrong turning. Luckily, I managed to get back to a road through a gap in a hedgerow, and some minutes later I turned up at George's house, armed with a wrapped gift of a board game called Gin, a bottle of Prosecco and a colourful bunch of flowers, which George's wife Teresa thought absolutely exquisite. I had originally bought the flowers for Albina, but she suggested I take them down for Teresa, as she was probably the main organizer of the party, anyway and "Why should George get all the attention", as Albina put it. I have known George since we were in the Polish cubs together at a camp in Kelvedon in Essex. In fact I was the one who first introduced George and Teresa more than 50 years ago. The party was initially very enjoyable and I had an enjoyable mix of weighty political discussions and flirty male-female dialogue. A delicious chilli con carne was served and George blew out the single roman candle plonked diplomatically onto his birthday cake. But the room was small, and virtually nobody stepped out into the adjoing garden. Unfortunately, as the party wore on, the din of thirty or so inebriated guests and family members talking over each other, began to deafen me. I could barely make out any words that were being said to me. So I slunk out quietly and drove home, explaining my boorish behaviour in a text message and an apologetic telephone call to George next day.
A further irritation. Went shopping to Waitrose with Albina and my debit card was declined. The cash machine refused to state the reason saying the card was inoperable. I sense it's that blasted unnecessary debit card they sent me last month, in place of the Barclaycard I had ordered unsuccessfully. Luckily, Albina was able to pay with her card. I suppose I will eventually have to initiate the new debit card that I did not want, but the Barclay bastards are very low in my current estimation as a service. And it will play havoc in all my next online transactions.
Oh yes, and Albina sensed that I really did want to go to Vilnius and felt it important that I defend the record of the Federation of Poles in front of the arrogant Polish community minister, Jan Dziedziczak. So I told the Federation Chairman I could go on September 15th, arranged a day swop with Miguel at the office to cover me for missing a Monday at work, and went ahead and bought a plane ticket to Vilnius.
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