Clearing the decks

 19 days to go.

I have just ordered the repeat prescriptions for Albina and myself, three months' worth of medicine which it will take quite a few hours to place in the appropriate pill boxes. 

In the meantime, Albina has signed up to a new dentist locally in Brentford. She wants a proper check up on her teeth and a clean. She dropped her non-NHS previous dentist in posh Kensington several years ago, as she was tired of paying outrageous fees. She wanted to sign up to my dentist in Acton. Unfortunetaly there are nearly 25 steep steps in a twisted staircase leading up to my dental clinic. Far too difficult for her. At least her new dentist is on ground floor. 

Other preparations are going steadily ahead. I have just ordered a short biography of Jules Verne. In case the ship's crew don't provide a speaker, I can do my own research and talk about the book. In quickly reading his biography I came across some fascinaing information about one of his other books, "Twenty thousand Leagues under the Seas". (Note: "seas" in plural is the correct translation). Captain Nemo, commander of the rogue submarine "Nautilus", was supposed to be a Polish nobleman, determined to revenge himself on the Russian crushing of the 1863 Polish Winter Uprising by sinking a Russian warship. In most cinematic versions he becomes an Indian maharajah.

I was also hoping that my Wikipedia biography would be ready before my departure. I had passed on all the details in January 2022 (no, not 2023). The latest version which I received yesterday has been pared down to the bare minumum and still gets some key facts wrong, which had been correct before, such as not including my period as Ealing Councillor and as a candidate for the European Parliement representing Suffolk. Also no mention this time of my wife and my son. Will they get it right in time?

However, I am failing in trying to wean myself off community issues. The Union of Polish Writers Union Chair asked me to check out whether a new Polish author was eligible to join the Union of Writers. I had to make my way this morning to the office of the Union in POSK, pick up a copy of her book and give an opinion on her quality as a writer. I did that and had to wade through some gruesome accounts of the mass murder of Polish villagers in wartime Volhynia, when eventually the Germans (of all people!) came and rescued them from a murderous gang of Ukrainian fascists.  

But then I have found myself making coffee meetings with young ladies and emailing Polish women MPs concerning the future of the Federation of Poles in Gt Britain, and then reporting on it to the Federation President. The Federation AGM has been timed specifically to ensure I am still in the country at the time. The future of the organization is on a clff edge. It can either flourish or collapse completely in the course of the next year,  after 77 years as the main representative body of the Polish diaspora in this country. That still weighs heavily on my mind over the next couple of weeks, regardless of the main voyage. Each time I try and leave the Polish community on the back boiler, it suddenly comes and bites me on the behind.