Professor T

I've just completed watching - on ITVX, and therefore in catchup - the existing three series of Professor T, a police drama featuring a Cambridge University college professor whose expert field is criminology. This drama, first aired in 2021, was brought to my attention quite accidentally about three weeks ago. You have to understand that I don't routinely watch TV, not with my current phone-and-laptop setup, and wouldn't normally be aware of any new programmes worth a look. Well, it's another well-produced and intriguing drama that has got me hooked. I'm very much looking forward to series four, especially as series three has ended on an agonising cliff-hanger. 

If you too were unaware of Professor T, I should explain that each episode is a complete story in itself, a police investigation into a violent crime where the identity, personality or motivation of the perpetrator is obscure, and needs the Professor's insight. But in the background are a number of ongoing subplots to do with the characters in the cast and their relationships both professional and personal. There are several loose ends to take further in series four.  

The Professor (Jasper Tempest) is played by Ben Miller, who was years ago the Detective Inspector (Richard Poole) in the first three episodes of Death in Paradise. It's a somewhat similar role, but this time the fussiness and uptightness of Richard Poole has been developed, Jasper Tempest openly showing symptoms of OCD and autistic-spectrum traits, in part brought about by his traumatic experiences when a boy which he needs to be released from. He has become stiff and awkward - though not unreachable - when faced with intimacy, or emotional matters that affect him personally. Notwithstanding that, he is a brilliant and super-perceptive advisor in criminal cases, and an inspiration to those few of his students, past and present, who have a genuine flair for criminology. He is nearly always right; and sooner or later earns the respect of everyone he encounters with his knowledge, directness and complete integrity. The fact that he can get conflicted makes him very interesting, and the object of deep concern from other characters. I should think the viewing public feels the same way. You so want him to relax his rigid self-control and express his emotions.

Of course, the Professor's odd character is exaggerated for dramatic purposes. Apparently his is not a true portrayal of how it really is to be OCD, or in any way autistic. I don't think this matters: his portrayal calls attention to these conditions, and emphasises how a person can be a respected force in society, and serve it well, despite what many would see as crippling personality defects. One early episode (Sophie Knows) is about a high-functioning eighteen-year-old Downs Syndrome girl, who rightly deduces who the murderer is, but can't tell. But she comes to trust the Professor, and in the end reveals her vital knowledge. The interesting thing is how she and the Professor instantly recognise a mutual mental kinship. They are on the same planet. That becomes the key to communication and revelation, and the unravelling of the mystery. 

I'm obviously fascinated and very enthusiastic about this offbeat drama series. What has surprised me, however, is the extent to which the Professor's habits and controlled behaviour resonate with my own. I wouldn't say that I am OCD, let alone autistic, although in the past accusations on those lines have been levelled at me, and not always jokingly. I can't stand squalour, and I am very hygiene-conscious; but at the same time squeaky-clean housekeeping is not uppermost on my agenda: I can tolerate a little dust. Disorder is however a greater horror, and I confess to being unusually neat and tidy, and habitual without variation in how I arrange my possessions: everything is always put precisely in its proper place, and is therefore exactly where I expect to find it. It's one reason why I would never be able to live with anyone else. They would move my stuff and drive me up the wall. Then there's the detailed chronicling of my day-to-day life with my camera, the almost fetishistic references to my car and other possessions, the egocentric blogging...and on and on.

Beyond this, many would say that I am obsessively self-organised. I indulge in far too much forward planning. These are the marks of a person who needs to be in control of her own destiny, has to make the future go her way, and takes no risks - especially with her health and financial wellbeing. 

I would defend myself by pointing out that I am on my own, with no safety nets to catch me if I fail to look where I'm going. I can't afford to be heedless. And my personal motto, Stay alive, stay free, chimes so much with that. All the same, much of what I do must seem odd and rather over the top. I've sometimes wondered whether my friends worry about me, perhaps seeing a pattern that indicates a gradual decline into a peril-obsessed old age. Certainly I've had bad thoughts about how I would cope if ever I got caught up in a real-life police investigation, and had to temporarily surrender my phone, which I rely on for organising almost everything. Would my life instantly fall apart? I hope not, but the fear is strong.

Personal emails only, for future blog post comments

I'm fed up with comments that are commercially inspired, and really no better than advertisements. These rarely show up in the very latest posts; often they are placed on older (or even very old) posts - clearly so that I won't immediately notice them. But I do regularly make checks, and will always discover a string of irritating 'comments' that only waste my time, and the time of any serious readers I may have. I delete them ruthlessly. 

But I've had enough, and I've stopped all ordinary comments. Henceforth, I will welcome personal emails only. The link for emailing is in my Blog Profile. 

This puts commenting entirely on an 'only-you-and-me' basis: nobody else can see our exchange. I'm rather hoping this will encourage a larger number of genuine comments/enquiries/requests than I get at the moment. 

At any rate my blog will now be useless for advertisers, unless they intend to target only myself. And if they do, I have the option to block them, or tell Google that their messages are spam.

There was a time when blogs like mine were a lively platform for readers to have their say. So long as the comments remained polite and helpful this was definitely a Good Thing. But I had my experiences early on of people being argumentative or over-assertive with their views, and occasionally having a go at me. I have never forgotten the hornet-nests I sometimes stirred up. I learned not to. I blog for pleasure, not to make lethal enemies. 

In any case, I should have realised that by allowing ordinary comments I was creating yet another space for bullies and the bigoted. I should never have given them the opportunity to wade in. If I'd confined them to private emails, they would have lost their audience. They might even have been more civil. And those they frightened off might have felt able to speak to me without fear of being verbally torn to shreds. Not that my blog often turned into a bear pit back in those days; but I do remember some nasty reactions from trolls ready to pounce. It's been a much quieter place in the last dozen years. 

Car insurance punches my purse

Ever since the end of last year, I had been noticing reports and comments on the rapidly-rising cost of car insurance. There were cases of drivers paying twice what they had before - drivers who had not been making claims. It seemed to me that we were all being softened up and prepared for a heart-stopping hike in this year's premium. The insurance companies were maintaining that it was difficult to make a good (and predictable) profit nowadays from car insurance, such were the risks to them of big payouts for expensive car crunches, and all kinds of personal injury claims. Some companies had stopped offering car insurance altogether. Those that were left felt forced to charge high premiums to ensure profitability.

So I was braced for what my own insurer might want. I'm with Liverpool Victoria (LV). My existing car insurance policy with them will run out on 23rd May. I never automatically renew. I want them to treat me as a customer who might well go elsewhere. Yesterday I received their quote for the coming year beginning on 24th May. It was £1,041 for a comprehensive policy on Sophie, my Volvo XC60. Last year it was £474 on my previous Volvo XC60, Fiona. 

Same maker, same model; but not quite a level comparison. Sophie has a higher spec, and is altogether a sportier proposition. So I knew that the premium would be higher regardless. In fact LV told me in their quote that if last year's premium had been for Sophie rather than Fiona, I would have paid £796 instead of £474. The premium for the coming year was therefore 'only' 30% more than £796. But I still call that a swingeing increase. 

I had estimated the coming premium to be £800 - how wrong can you be? - so there was another £241 to find. If, that is, I accepted LV's quote. Of course, I looked at a couple of other online quotes, to get a feel for what might be out there. 

Saga was an obvious first call. But they wanted a whopping £1,391 for similar cover. They are known for offering very good holidays and insurance products, designed specifically for the needs of older persons. But generally at a Rolls Royce price. Too much for me.

What about NFU Mutual? They didn't want to know! They are clearly very picky about who they take on, and perhaps I am just too old, or in some way I don't fit their model of a customer they can be happy with. So they wouldn't give me a quote. 

What about Direct Line? Dear me! Even more expensive than Saga. They wanted £1,898 for similar cover. Gulp.

I could have tried Volvo itself, but when doing so on previous occasions I hadn't found their car insurance quotes at all tempting. They might be all right for new-car cover, but not for a used car. 

Ah, what about the Caravan and Motorhome Club? But they wanted £1,414. Much the same as Saga.

I felt inclined to take LV's quote after all. It seemed almost cheap compared with Saga, the CAMC and Direct Line. One background reason would be my decades-old and ongoing membership of the Civil Service Motoring Association, who trade as Boundless (a silly name) and get special rates from LV. I think that years ago LV absorbed Norman Frizzell, who were once the CSMA's pet insurer, and that same relationship has continued with the successor company. Such tie-ups abound. It's very often worth sticking with an insurer who is prepared to offer advantageous terms to a club or union member. Mind you, it has sometimes crossed my mind in recent years that LV's terms for Boundless members are no longer quite as generous as I would expect; but the evidence of this year's Saga, CAMC and Direct Line quotes suggests that LV are still worth my patronage. So I've paid the £1,041 and Sophie is now comprehensively insured until 23rd May 2025. 

But I still feel financially bruised. 

A spate of messages, a fix costing nothing

It's been very nearly six months since I drove away Sophie, my second-hand Volvo XC60 with the prized-but-no-longer-made five-cylinder (D5) diesel engine, and R-Design embellishments, from Caffyns Volvo Eastbourne. That was on 27th October, after the purchasing formalities were complete. How quickly time passes! And how well she has served me since. If I'm honest, better than my beloved Fiona could have done. 

If you are a new reader, and not familiar with the Fiona Saga, she was a top-of-the-range Volvo XC60 SE Lux (with that important D5 engine for caravanning) that I ordered from the Volvo factory in January 2010. The XC60 models had been introduced in 2008, and by 2010 most of the inevitable teething troubles had been sorted out. It was the right time to buy. The particular specification I put together bumped the price up to £41,000, but I got the benefit of a standard £5,000 no-quibble trade-in from Volvo on my ageing Honda CR-V, plus the government's Scrappage Scheme contribution, which together brought the cost down to £34,000. And I had the cash - an inheritance from my uncle, Mum's brother. The facts that I'd effectively 'given birth' to Fiona, and that she always had that family link, made her very special. And she served me well and faithfully, for thirteen years and 194,000 miles, looking good to the end of our acquaintance. A car to be proud of. A car to love.

But Fiona was never a cheap car to run. And after the first five years, I bore the cost of a series of expensive component replacements. I had expected a lot from Fiona. Too much. I drove her pretty hard. I wore bits of her out before their proper time. I promised myself that I would not do the same with her successor, Sophie. 

So when Sophie stepped into Fiona's shoes, I was deliberately gentle and restrained with her. The reward has been significantly better fuel consumption, and no mechanical trouble whatever. That is still the case. 

But recently a spate of warning instrument-panel messages began, about things failing and needing a service at a Volvo dealer. 

They began as I drove westwards through a fierce rainstorm on the A303 near Wincanton, on my way down to Lyme Regis with the caravan in tow. The rain battering the car actually turned to hail for a while. I slowed to a safe speed, and as I did so the messages began to show. I was warned about ABS failure, stability control failure, and low tyre pressure. Scary stuff! And yet the handling of the car was unaffected, and an inspection of the tyres at the next layby revealed nothing to be concerned about. These messages disappeared when I next fired up the engine, and briefly reappeared only once more during my West Country holiday. But they returned - apparently permanently - during the journey home, and were joined by two new warning messages connected with braking ability. And yet there was nothing amiss with the braking. Were they all spurious? 

Spurious or not, it was time to let Caffyns have a look. So four days ago I took Sophie down to Eastbourne for a diagnostic check. 

It turned out that the rear ABS sensor had packed in after 65,000 miles, and was the sole author of all these messages. Volvo had clearly found a way of basing several safely systems on a single sensor, with the drawback that if that sensor became wayward it generated a multiplicity of false warnings. So some relief: there was just one, easily-dealt-with cause. The next step, which could be put in hand at once - while I waited - was to physically replace the errant sensor. The cost would be over £300. Ah, I said, wasn't this covered by the Volvo Selekt used car warranty? Indeed it was. Caffyns rapidly cleared the matter with Volvo HQ, and the technician installed a new sensor. I watched him through the giant window at the Eastbourne dealership. While waiting, I examined the Warranty - I had a copy of the pdf on my phone - and confirmed that it had another six months to run. That was reassuring. It might not be needed again, but who knows. I was covered. (I'd ensure that the next annual service and MOT took place before the Warranty expired)

But what a good outcome meanwhile. A new sensor for nothing. And the messages had vanished. I'm now all set for a carefree summer of motoring - and caravan towing.

It was interesting to consider my personal reaction to this experience. The messages were worrying, but I took them calmly throughout. I didn't panic. I didn't cry. With Fiona I might have wobbled quite a bit, for anything that had ever struck at Fiona had struck at my heart, as if she were my child. With Sophie I was much more detached: dare I say it, more adult. 

It wasn't that I didn't care about Sophie: we had bonded, as we were bound to do when you think how car-based and car-reliant my life is. I'd transferred my car-loyalty to her. But Sophie was essentially a Fiona-lookalike, a grey replacement bought in a hurry. And not with my own cash but on HP - she wouldn't even be legally mine until the three-year finance deal had run its course. There was no family association at all. Although likeable and good to drive, she was simply a used car with a largely unknown past, not one I'd had made for me, and had nurtured from new. As soon as feasible she would be replaced with a newer Volvo, probably an all-electric one. Sophie was a stopgap car. So yes, I could be perfectly cool and detached, clinical even. 

But you know, I was still pleased that despite a bad winter, and challenging driving conditions endured again and again, including sticky mud, only one sensor had gone wrong. Everything else was working fine. That said something about Sophie's innate quality. 

Sophie was first registered in April 2016, so is now eight years old. She barely looks it, thanks to a careful previous owner, an equally careful present owner, and low mileage - currently still only 65,500 when it 'ought' to be 80,000 or more. At the same eight year mark, Fiona had covered 132,500 miles, more than double. With of course corresponding accelerated wear and tear. So I do have good grounds for thinking that with ongoing care and consideration, Sophie could last me a long time, and not cost me nearly so much.

Readers, I am in fact starting to believe that there might be a Sophie Saga. Of epic length. Watch out.

Unwanted sophistication

I have composed this post on my laptop using Notepad, an old-time Windows utility that allows you to type only in plain text. No fancy stuff such as bold and italics! But plain text is all I need for an initial version of what I shall later polish up when online. So I've copied-and-pasted the text from Notepad into this new post on Blogger, and now I can add photos and other things if required, correct my typos, and generally improve the post so that it reads well and looks right. 

Notepad has served me very well over the years. Its overwhelming virtue is that it's so simple. But that will be its downfall.

That other straightforward old-time Windows utility, Paint, came under threat a few years back. Microsoft had created a newer substitute that it felt more appropriate to modern times, and Paint appeared to be doomed. But users worldwide protested, and Paint was reprieved. I've always had a specific use for Paint, for processing laptop screenshots, so I'm glad that Microsoft listened and did the right thing. But I doubt whether the company really learned the key lesson from that episode: that easy-to-use, uncomplicated programs are needed just as much as sophisticated ones. 

I am therefore pretty sure that Notepad also has a suspended sentence of death hanging over it. But long may it live. 

It's obvious why software companies strive to improve their products. They want to convince users that theirs is the current best for the purpose in question, and worth a serious investment - nowadays most likely an expensive subscription instead of a one-off payment. In the case of photographic software, very much in my personal world, Adobe's suite of editing programs is a case in point. Who hasn't heard of Photoshop? Or Lightroom? But neither is a freebie. Both require an ongoing subscription of such size that only those who make their living from photography, or want to use incredibly capable programs for their work, will pay the price. Using such software may be one of those badges, like sporting an impressive camera, especially one on a tripod, that separate lightweight dabblers from 'committed enthusiasts and professionals'.

I won't play that game. I get along very well with Nikon's NX Studio as my photo-processing workhorse, which is available to download at no cost at all. I also still use Nikon's Capture NX2, bought for a one-off £125 in August 2008, for more specialised edits: it's a bit old-school, but it still works perfectly in 2024. And I have uses for the bog-standard Windows Photos program that Microsoft throws in for nothing. This triumvirate is quite enough for my personal needs, although I dare say that Lightroom users - most serious shooters say they use Lightroom - will laugh at my faithfulness to these three alternative (and possibly uncool) programs. Yes, they are relatively basic, but that makes them quick and easy to use. I am looking only to correct minor defects in the pictures I took, as I want to preserve the character and mood of the scene or subject as I saw it, rather than introduce something that wasn't there at the time. Certainly not to process the shot to death. Together my three programs - Nikon NX Studio mostly - deal very efficiently with the 20,000+ pictures I take each year. So, weighing effectiveness against cost, I feel my approach is a good one. 

Back to Notepad and Paint, and programs like them. I don't think they will survive too much longer. Microsoft will at some stage declare them stone-age and incompatible with the latest version of Windows, or finally impose replacements that employ AI in some gimmicky way. It will do this because that's Microsoft is apt to do, regardless of users' preferences. We are supposed to embrace every trendy idea.

I see the colourful icon for Copilot at the bottom right of my laptop screen every time I fire Verity up. I used Copilot to create three silly experimental pictures when it first appeared, but not since. There's been no reason to use it for making images. I'm not a 'creator'. I dare say I constantly use AI without being conscious of it - for example when searching for things on Google. But where pictures are concerned, I prefer to respect and work with the scene as I found it, using only my own eye for a good composition, and the camera. And as regards blog posts, only my personal aptitude as a writer. 

Otherwise, these favourite activities are reduced to giving a few voice commands to my laptop, which would then trawl the Internet for other people's snaps and screeds, and make a pastiche of those.  Minimal personal effort or input, nothing authentic or truthful or genuinely original about the result, and nil satisfaction. 

Progress? Sophistication? Ha.

Fixing it

I'm with OVO Energy for my electricity and gas supply. Not from deliberate choice, but because back in November 2022 they absorbed SSE and I automatically became a customer of theirs. I'd already come off SSE's 2 Year fixed plan back in December 2021, moving to their standard variable tariff. This continued with OVO Energy. 

I wasn't especially keen on OVO, but after some kerfuffle I got the credit I'd built up with SSE transferred, and OVO gave me sufficient control over how much my monthly direct debit should be to make me feel content. 

Things have settled down since those first months with OVO. I've remained on their standard variable tariff, with all its ups and downs and dependence on Ofgem's price capping. The energy supply issues that rocked the market over the last couple of years have eased, and some further electricity and gas unit price reductions are expected in the summer and autumn. That said, I notice that as the unit price goes down, OVO increases its daily standing charge a bit. Doubtless to maintain profit levels. Overall, one does get a monthly cost reduction, but it isn't spectacular. In the longer term, common sense suggests that electricity and gas prices will show at least normal increases, such is the constant demand for more and more energy. And of course, ongoing trouble in the Middle East and elsewhere, affecting supply routes and spooking the market, may very rapidly drive up energy costs again. 

Another factor personal to myself is that until October 2026 I am paying almost £600 a month on Sophie's car purchase plan (HP by any other name). I need to ensure that, so far as possible, my finances remain stable and predictable, so that meeting this major commitment isn't put at risk. 

So recently I've been alert to energy cost fixes. And OVO have now emailed me about their current fixed deals. There are several. One of them, their 2 Year Fixed plan, looks attractive enough to seriously consider. 

My account with OVO runs from April each year, and I've just started the 2024/25 year paying £136 a month for electricity and gas, which on present estimates will get me to April 2025 with a small surplus. That's on OVO's standard variable tariff, which can change. Ofgem's future interventions may easily turn that small surplus into a rather large one. Maybe! But I want certainty. So today I've signed up for that 2 Year Fixed plan. The opening direct debit payments will start at the same £136 per month. I'll miss out on the expected summer or autumn price reductions; but unless my electricity and gas consumption at home radically alters, I won't be paying more until April 2026.

It's a gamble. Who knows, remaining on OVO's standard variable tariff might well have saved me money. 

On the other hand, I am now protected from any price hikes for two years ahead, and I feel those are all too likely, given the state of the world. Peace of mind and freedom from worry does have a real and substantial value. I think it's well worth avoiding energy-price anxiety if the monthly cost seems reasonable and affordable. 

I looked up what I was paying SSE for my electricity and gas in 2020, before energy prices rose dramatically. I was on another 2 Year Fixed deal, and it was costing me £115 a month. That was based on what was 'normal' pricing back in 2019, when the plan began. 

So £115 then, and now £136 in 2024. The 2024 monthly cost is 18% higher, certainly more than simple inflation would have brought about. But not outrageously higher. I'm OK with it.