New Year’s Eve

New Year’s Eve started with the belated exchange of Christmas presents with the daughters, including the receipt of camel hair socks and yak wool leggings from Mongolia and equally acceptable if more conventional clothing from Nottingham; the evening was devoted to a murder mystery game over a three course dinner for which younger daughter and partner prepared a starter of skewered chicken satay, my wife and I cooked a couple of curries for the main, and elder daughter and son whipped up a chocolate and hazelnut tart for dessert - and as for the murder, who did it or guessed it right were less important than the vamped up costumes and the variable accents.

Full House

With elder daughter tonight arriving home from Mongolia, via Aberdeen, we are at last reunited as a family over one of our favourite evening meals - lasagne followed by sticky toffee pudding – and as conversation flowed it soon felt like no one had ever been away; with beds and bags stuffed everywhere the cottage is full up but it does now feel like Christmas has finally arrived in our house.

Walk in Park

A break in the weather coincided with the need to get outdoors so the family (up to five with the arrival yesterday of younger daughter and partner) took a short drive to Hardwick Country Park for a walk round the lake, a circuit done many times over the years but looking much smarter (and busier) than when we first used to come with welly-ed toddlers in tow; today Hudl came too and took a few photos, some without my active intervention, so among the panoramic views and family groups were several snaps of the path, the sky, strangers’ feet, and even the inside of my bag.

Late Delivery

Three days after Christmas it’s time to disperse the presents from their ‘show and tell’ pile to longer term homes – books to the shelves in the snug, CD to the rack there, chocolate orange to the treat box, and clothes to the wardrobe & drawers in the bedroom; those same drawers served well to stow away presents for my nearest and dearest, and as the tell-tale carrier bags still in there are cleared for disposal it transpires that one of them is not empty, and my wife’s present count is subsequently increased by one that’s better late than never.

Wind

After a couple of lazy days the plan today was to get some exercise and fresh air with a walk in the park but high winds and squally rain persisted into the afternoon, thankfully not as severe as elsewhere in the country with our structural damage limited to a wayward wheelie bin and the nesting box blown clean off the tree; as a compromise, when nipping to the supermarket, I pulled up in a corner of the car park and in the thirty second walk to the entrance received more fresh air than in the average five mile hike.

Hudl

Unwrapping a Hudl (Tesco’s value tablet) on Christmas Day means spending a good part of Boxing Day setting it up, becoming familiar with the features, downloading apps, and generally getting to grips with touch screen tablet technology; still a way to go, so for now blogger posting remains via the trusty familiar laptop.

Christmas Dinner

After a relaxing morning with my wife and son, opening presents, we headed over, late afternoon, to have dinner with my wife’s parents and sister, utilising my father-in-law’s huge, fully extended refectory dining table (which could seat half a monastery) and my mother-in-law’s roast dinner expertise, today producing the traditional turkey accompanied by sausages, pigs in blankets, stuffing (wet & dry), an assortment of vegetables (boiled & roast potatoes, mashed carrot & swede, cauliflower & broccoli in cheese sauce, sweetcorn, roast parsnips), and variety of sauces (bread, cranberry and gravy); plates were cleared (mine twice), then time was taken to exchange gifts, enabling room to be made for dessert - a choice of Christmas pudding or chocolate cheesecake.

Christmas Party

As has become a Christmas Eve tradition we were invited to a gathering at a friend’s for festive food and chat, and the food, being prepared by a farmer’s wife, is not only festive but wholesome and plentiful; as the night wears on the game of ‘empires’ is inevitably called and with over a dozen players trying to guess each other’s secret identity a game takes the best part of an hour, so four rounds later (without a win between us) it is close to midnight and time to thank our hosts for a pleasant evening and take our leave.

Christmas Shopping

Christmas shopping was rounded off today with three separate trips: first, solo, to Darlington to get those finishing touches to presents, somehow gathering 10 items into my small messenger bag in a couple of hours; second, again solo, to Bolams the butchers in Sedgefield to get some turkey, not a whole one as we are not at home on Christmas day, but just bits – a crown and a couple of legs – sufficient to satisfy the demand for sandwiches on Boxing day and later, and compact enough to fit in the already packed fridge; then in the evening to the supermarket to top up supplies, not solo this time, but with my wife wearing her Christmas pudding hoodie, I almost wished I was.

Christmas Market

To Barnard Castle to visit the Christmas Market in the grounds of the splendid Bowes Museum where four large marquees kept out the squally wind, rain and occasional snow, while housing a host of stalls selling crafts, cloths, jewellery, food and drink, and just three days before the big day it was convenient to gather a few gourmet items for presents or personal consumption – cheeses, pies, puddings, ginger wine, specialist sausages and scones soon disappeared into the shopping bags, with smaller morsels similarly disappearing into the boy’s mouth as he grazed on the offered samples; by the time we’d wandered round and walked back to the town we were a bit cold and hungry so repaired to the excellent Clarendon Tea Shop for coffee, hot chocolate and paninis.

Christmas Telly

The bumper two-week Christmas edition of Radio Times operates from today and in time-honoured tradition I took my multi-coloured biros to it and highlighted the unmissables on my (subscription-free only) channels – green for sport, red for films and purple for the rest – but there was no danger of running out of ink as page after page was turned with mounting disappointment, not so much at the lack of quality but with the plethora of same-old, same-old that I’ve seen too many times to sit through again; what was circled was all the sport, a few sit-coms (Miranda, Vicious, Still Open All Hours), some drama (Sherlock, The Tractate Middoth, Death Comes to Pemberley, and of course Downton), and a few films that either I can watch every time (It’s a Wonderful Life, Kind Hearts and Coronets, and Love Actually) or that I have previously avoided so as not to spoil the book, but having read this year can now view for the first time (Never Let Me Go, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and believe it or not, Gone With The Wind).

Christmas Holidays

As schools finished for Christmas my wife and son came home with beaming smiles and, in my wife’s case, with a bag full of cards and presents from appreciative children and/or parents; also closing today for the holidays was the library where I called in to renew a book, only to find a spread laid on of home-made ginger wine, mince pies and shortbread, to which the cheery librarian invited all to help themselves while exhorting us to load up with enough books to last to the re-opening in the new year – no need in my case as I’ve got enough unread books on my shelf and my kindle to see me through to 2015!

Christmas Carols

Carols around the Christmas tree on the village green are good fun provided I go properly equipped, and over the years I have variously turned up without sufficient warm clothing, without a torch to illuminate the song sheet, or without my glasses to read the words on the illuminated song sheet; tonight I thought I had the lot and was able to join in with gusto (and the local brass band), until the collection came round when I found myself penniless and had to rely on my wife to bail us out with some small change.

Interference

After a pleasant man and wife day out doing some shopping, I prepared myself for the last gym session before Christmas, gathering bits of kit from here and there, including hauling my shorts out of the ironing basket, hampered by my wife, still in playful mood, running interference (as they say in American football), prodding me in the back and hurrying me up; eventually I got my kit on and only on arriving at the gym and mounting the treadmill did I realise I was wearing my short pyjama bottoms which, although the same navy with pale blue trim, were unlikely to fool the other, more professionally attired, users but I toughed it out consoled by the thought that at least I would be ready for bed before them.

Christmas Cards

Day two of the pre-Christmas week and the focus is on getting out the greetings cards that need posting, for me mainly to old (in both senses of the word) university mates and far flung family members, and I like to include a humorous message of personal relevance in the form of a caption to whatever stock image of snow, nativity or other seasonal scene is on the card; for example the card to my walking buddy Pete captions its picture of two shepherds, complete with staffs, gazing at the star of Bethlehem, with “Route finding was no problem during Pete and Alan’s ‘Holy Land’ walk”.

Christmas is Coming

It’s the last full week before Christmas and for me that signals a change of approach in preparing for the festivities, from opportunistic to planned, and after a morning checking stocks of cards, alcohol and purchased presents, lists were drawn up itemising needs and resources, identifying shortfalls in gin, vodka, stamps, ‘special’ cards and, inevitably, presents; so the priority for the afternoon was shopping for those relatively few gifts that fall to me (rather than my personal shopper – aka wife) to procure, and after a couple of hours a sufficiently good dent in the list had been made to call a halt and have a rewarding coffee and cake.

Duplo Devastation

What do you get when you bring home from a primary school six boxes of Duplo to sort into the correct container? – a scene on your living room floor that resembles Legoland after an earthquake, even more so when the sets being sorted include police, fire and ambulance; with little guide other than 20 years’ experience, enough progress was made to allocate most pieces correctly, but it helps if in the meantime the cats don’t take up residence in the empty boxes.

Darlo

Darlington FC’s recent roller coaster history can be summed up as: move to new stadium; reach League 2 play-offs; suffer administration; relegated to the Conference; win FA Trophy at Wembley; go bust & lose stadium; resurrected as Darlington 1883 in the Northern League; relocate to Bishop Auckland sharing Heritage Park with their landlords; win the Northern League at the first attempt; promoted to the Northern Premier League; and now an announcement of the plan to return to their home town next season to share Blackwell Meadows with the rugby club, but given their disappointment littered history they will need a fair wind and I lent my support today with my first trip to see them at Heritage Park where they scraped a 1-0 win in a scrappy wind-affected game.

Home Alone

With the other members of the household having social engagements tonight I was home alone, giving me free choice of the not very inspiring TV schedules, and I thought about Channel Five’s Abba night for a second or so before settling for some pre-recorded sport, with NFL ‘The Name of the Game’ (Giants at the Redskins); though with neither team in contention for the play-offs it was definitely not a case of ‘The Winner Takes It All’.

Weighty Agenda

A good portion of the day was spent ploughing through the papers for tomorrow’s termly meeting of the school governing body which, at 297 pages weighing 720g (1lb 9oz in old money), resembles a decent novel in length if not in entertainment value, although it is all good stuff that needs to be shared, understood and in some cases approved by the assembled volunteers who each have responsibilities as governor, director and trustee; in mitigation I had already gone through 94 pages for Finance Committee, but on the other hand there are 3 items to be tabled (all for information) that were not posted due to their size(!), presumably for fear of legal claims by posties with strained backs, so the final reckoning could bump up the page count from novel to epic, and the weight from not quite a bag of sugar to well over a bag of flour.

Showstopper

The boy’s after school cookery classes, taken to acquire a new skill as part of the Duke of Edinburgh programme, concluded today with what the Great British Bake-off would term a showstopper finale in the shape of a gingerbread house, structurally sound and decorated with a neatness and attention to detail never previously displayed in his 15 years; overall the course has been a great success, providing at least five Wednesday night meals, several tasty cakes and only one disaster, and preparing him for feeding himself better in these last ten weeks than in the previous 3 years of “food technology” lessons.

Redundant Technology

The latest TV advert to irritate me is the one that slowly zooms in on a pencil laid on its side on a desk as in the background all sorts of positive images are projected of busy, creative, successful (and obviously attractive) people being busy, creative and successful, while the suave voice-over man waxes lyrical about how this fantastic object has enabled mankind to do so many wonderful things, and just as you are thinking “yes aren’t pencils brilliant” the camera angle changes to reveal the latest super-thin tablet hidden behind; the implication – this tablet is marvellous it can do everything a pencil can do – is a bit underwhelming so I think I’ll stick with a pencil and keep my £400, after all it is the idea, thought or message that counts not the medium.

Front of House

“Just tidy up the front of the house” was my wife’s parting comment as she left for work this morning, and compliance required raking up two bags of leaves that had clearly travelled forward in time from when there were still some left to fall off the trees, and cleaning the windows with the hosepipe while simultaneously taking a cold shower; the resulting effect was somewhat spoiled by my parked car, mud encrusted up to a height of 1 metre so, with a hosepipe and bucket of soapy water to hand, the bottom half got a quick cat-lick sufficient to get it to a similar hue to the top half, and so complete the presentation of a respectable front of house.

Baubles

The second Sunday in December sees the Christmas tree erected and the decorations loaded on, in record time, as out of the storage boxes were selected this year’s colour scheme of blue and gold, supplemented as ever by a hotchpotch of those hardy perennials accumulated over the years as a result of three influences: first, when the kids were small we each chose a new decoration each year, building competing armies of tat, led in my case by the jolly snowman; second, a tendency to acquire souvenir baubles from trips such as to Disney, Harrods and, this summer, the Guinness brewery; and third, my wife’s recently home-crafted additions of variable verisimilitude but indisputable character, such as the tubby gingerbread man.

Quiz Night

At the local cricket club the end of the season means the start of monthly quiz nights but tonight our normal team of six was a couple down; however the four remaining put up a good show finishing fifth equal out of ten, earning a rare share of the cash, and we even scooped a raffle prize that will ensure refreshing showers for a week or two.

Punctured

The week began with one car ‘exhausted’ and finished with the other one ‘tyred’ as my plans to get my chores and errands completed and out of the way in advance of the football World Cup draw were jeopardised by a flat tyre; fortunately, once re-inflated it got me to the repair shop where they extracted the offending nail, plugged the hole, and got me back on the road with minimal cost and delay, enabling me to do at least the essentials and get back in front of the TV in time to see England’s world cup hopes also punctured by inclusion in a group with Uruguay and Italy.

Accountability

An important part of the role of school governor, particularly of an academy, is to ensure accountability to the community and one obvious element of this is the production of audited final accounts that set out how the funding has been used for the benefit of the pupils; today’s finance committee perused the draft statutory accounts with gritty bemusement as compliance with both government guidance and charity accounting standards leads to production of a mass of information analysed every which way, but seeing the wood for the impenetrable forest is a challenge even for me as a seasoned bean-counter - if it’s accountable only to accountants where’s the accountability?

Backdrop

Spent the morning as (unpaid) apprentice teaching assistant at my wife’s primary school helping her put up a backdrop to the stage where the younger children will perform ‘Christmas Around the World’ to their parents and the rest of the school; the black background (weed barrier sheeting) went up well, the stick up lettering less so as they regularly fell like leaves off an autumn tree, the silver stars however stayed in the firmament, and the strung out flags of the world looked good, although after downloading, printing and enlarging several times the alignment of some may be awry and could cause an international incident if any French, German or Italians turn up.

Menagerie

My car dashboard is adorned by a bit of a menagerie that began with Chip the nodding tortoise, acquired circa 1995 from Chester Zoo souvenir shop, and augmented over the years as various other natural history attractions were visited – Kevin the snake from Jersey Zoo is coiled round the rear view mirror, Spud the spider monkey (provenance forgotten) lounges in the quarter-light, and a salamander (Dordogne) and frog (Menorca) are tethered just above the hi-fi controls; with December arriving a festive addition has been made in the form of a robin, to be named Raby, from where, in a moment of pre-Christmas excess, he was purchased on Saturday.

Smart Driver

The Smart needing (prematurely in our view) a new exhaust, my wife took my car to get to work leaving me to get behind the wheel of the dodgem car for the first time for a couple of years, requiring a quick refresher with the manual, before roaring (literally) down the road, apparently in semi rather than full automatic mode, but soon having great fun changing gear with the paddles on the steering wheel; at the garage I was treated to a complimentary coffee as I waited for the diagnosis but given the cost of the repair it didn’t feel like much of a freebie.

Pies

An interesting conjunction of pies in the last 24 hours: my supper last night was a wolf pie obtained at the Raby food festival, after being reassured by the Moody Baker (it’s his business name not a personal observation) ‘that no wolves were harmed in the making of this product’, it being named after the ale so deliciously combined with steak, potato and peas, all encased in a tasty pastry case; today’s dinner was also misleadingly named, my homemade shepherds’ pie containing neither shepherd nor sheep, but in its own simple way was equally scrummy as testified by the clean plates with the leftover portion reserved for someone’s lunch tomorrow.

Raby Castle

Another fine sunny November day and a drive out to Raby castle for a pre-Christmas food festival that turned out to be a low key affair with maybe a dozen stalls tacked on to the Castle’s own Christmas offering (trees, seasonal shop and Santa), however the quality was good and £20 soon went on scotch eggs, pastries, cheese and chutney, followed by about the same in the tea shop on coffee and well stuffed bacon baps, and a pound or two on stocking fillers in the shop; it stopped there as we go artificial on trees (cat-proof) and I managed to talk my wife out of purloining a random small child (ours being absent and too old anyway) to take to the grotto.

Arboriculture

The silver birch in the back garden, which had again outgrown its welcome, today received a professional cut for the first time after suffering over the years from the attentions of cowboys and amateurs (including me); plenty off the top and a good trim all round was the brief, and that was fulfilled, though only when spring arrives will we see if it looks more like a tree and less like a startled ent from Lord of the Rings.

Double Shift

An early shift on the minibus began at 9am ferrying the schoolchildren to a muddy field for 2 hours of cross country racing that culminated in one shield, several medals and a rather mucky bus floor on our return to school at 1pm; an hour and a half, a quick sandwich, 12 miles and 6 school years later I was with college students explaining the intricacies of equivalent fractions, an equally muddied field (of study) to some of them, until 4pm when my (these days rare) full day’s work concluded.

Step-ups

The Wednesday gym routine of treadmill, rowing machine and exercise bike was augmented today by step-ups, an exercise I studiously avoid to prevent undue pressure on worn out knees but necessarily completed via multiple climbs of the ladder as part of the on-going, somewhat lacklustre, progress of repairing the barn roof; with each batten made to measure for its place between the asymmetric purlins I was up and down with  bits of wood, like squirrel hoarding his nuts before winter sets in, but without the bright eyes and bushy tail bit.

Family Convoy

Two minibuses needed today to get 21 schoolchildren to the sports centre for an indoor athletics competition, and with my wife driving one and me the other it was a regular family convoy that wended its way through the streets; after a couple of hours of shepherding, coaching, toileting and shushing up, the insight into a family outing with 21 kids confirmed our decision to stop at three was sound.

Kingfisher at Croft

Following my recent disparaging comments on the November weather, today provided sunshine, blue skies, and cool still air, demanding to be taken advantage of with a walk, and I chose a section of the Teesdale Way from Blackwell to Croft along one side of the river then back to Blackwell through fields on the other side; stopping to eat my packed lunch on the wide bridge at Croft-on-Tees (to give it its full name) I gazed upstream and caught a glint of iridescent turquoise and red on a riverbank tree bough that resolved itself into a kingfisher for a few seconds before disappearing into the bushes in a swooping flash of blue.

Winter Warmer

Acknowledged the onset of winter today with the ceremonial lighting of the wood-burner to provide not just supplementary heat but also a warming glow to counteract the often damp and dismal winter weather outside; the only downside is having to go out into the same damp and dismal weather to fetch the wood needed to feed the beast and keep it cheerful.

Blind Tasting

Took advantage of the boy’s absence, sleeping over at a mate’s house, to go out for a meal, ending up at the Blacksmith’s Arms who could squeeze in a table for two at short notice; on arrival I realised I had forgotten my glasses so needed the menu reading to me (good job I had included “in visual impairment” in the wedding vows) and had to forego the pleasure of knowing for certain what I was putting in my mouth; however the meal, though blurred, was excellent with just one disorientating moment when I popped in a tomato from my salad only to suddenly taste strawberry.

JFK RIP

Read through a couple of John F Kennedy’s speeches today, fifty years to the day after his death in 1963, and with clichéd clarity recalled where I was (home) and what I was doing (watching the black & white TV) when the news of the assassination came through, and even to a ten year-old in England it was, judging by the impact on the grown-ups around, big and shocking news that seemed to deal a huge blow to the programmes of reform and renewal embodied in his presidency and personality; the “what if” question has been asked continuously since (for one take on it read Stephen King’s fine novel 11-22-63) but I’m not so sure had he lived much would have been different as the forces of reaction would have kicked in to dampen and weaken the bright new hopes – much as it has with Obama, the nearest thing the USA has elected since.

Ashes of the Past

The England v Australia test series down under began just after midnight, giving the opportunity to tune into the ball-by-ball radio commentary from the warmth and sunshine of Brisbane while the cold northern hemisphere November rain lashed down against the curtained window panes; for an hour it was crystal clear on Radio 5 Live Extra, on the digital TV, then in bed, with no headphone jack in the digital radio alarm, I had to resort to Radio 4 long wave on the old transistor, complete with crackles and whistles (and occasional shipping forecast) that took me back to many such mis-spent nights over more decades than bear thinking about.

Footloose

The kitchen table, a few years old now, is a solid piece held up by a sturdy single pedestal attached to four splayed feet via eight bolts that are frankly not up to the job, being simply screwed into the feet, meaning as the wood dries out these screws fail to grip effectively, the joint weakens, a foot comes loose and the table top develops a tilt requiring increasingly inventive measures to be taken to pack out the screw-holes – rawplugs, cork, superglue, and most recently baling twine; again today I had to dismantle it and tip it upside down and have a look-see, but the screws were still holding and all that was required was a tightening of the bolts so hopefully it will hold firm through to Christmas, when maximum load will be applied.

Hoodie Ratio

I did my first session as volunteer helper in a basic maths class where 16-18 year-olds are re-equipped with the numeracy skills they thought, mistakenly, they could do without once they left secondary school; today it was ratios and for me the most noteworthy was the ratio of those wearing their hoods up (in a centrally heated classroom) to those not – at 5:13

Pouffed Out

Apparently the black cat, Jerry, is a bit put out since his brother featured last week and wants everyone to know about his current favourite spot that he retires to after an exhausting 5 minutes with a play ball; the two pouffes are stacked up by the radiator so make for a great double decker bed where he acts out his version of the princess and the pea - the pussy cat and the pouffe.

Clean Machine

My wife and I double-teamed today to give the cars a wash, in the case of mine well overdue as evidenced by moss and weeds growing in its nooks and crannies, and it was good to be reminded of its true colour, a nice mid-blue under the patina of grey-brown dirt, revealed after soaping and sponging and hosing; with my better half in control of the hosepipe more than the cars got a sprinkling - the wheelie bin intentionally and me even more intentionally.

World Cup Winners

This week’s football match is at West Auckland, by no means my first visit but the first since the unveiling of the statue commemorating the team’s historic winning of the inaugural World Cup, in the guise of the Sir Thomas Lipton Trophy, in Italy in 1909 and repeated in 1911, the successive victory giving them the trophy outright; these days the current West Auckland Town team aim a little lower but today’s hard fought win over Shildon gets them one step further in the FA Vase.

Leap of Faith

Cats are creatures of habit and white cat Ben’s current perch of preference in the morning is at the bathroom window where the low winter sun comes in and where, sat on the ledge, he can study the birds in the bushes outside, provided of course someone has had the decency to open or better still raise the venetian blind; sometimes, as this morning, he lies in wait on the landing looking forlorn until the cord is pulled and then launches himself, leaping without pause from floor to toilet to cistern to windowsill, little realising how lucky he is that as a family we are scrupulous in keeping the toilet lid down.

House-husbandry

Semi-retirement isn’t all about going racing, long distance walks and visits to museums, galleries and teashops, so today I got down to a serious day’s house-husbandry with a couple of wash-loads on the line, front windows cleaned inside and out (OK downstairs only), the ironing pile reduced to silky and ruffled remnants that require a feminine touch, and a steak and kidney casserole prepared and popped into the oven; it barely left time to read a chapter or three and crack a killer Sudoku.

Track Star

What should have been a normal Wednesday night – me at the gym and the boy at athletics training – had a pleasant dénouement when, as I began driving home, he came out with an expletive and “I’ve forgotten my trophy”, requiring a quick circle back to the sports centre; sure enough he re-emerged grasping the handsome Boys Track Performance of the Year Cup, awarded in arrears as, after years of attending presentation nights and applauding other people’s children, we unavoidably missed Saturday’s ceremony when he actually won something.

Races

Took the opportunity on a bright and sunny day to go to Sedgefield Races, paying £5 for entry to the enclosure and £1 for a glossy and colourful race card giving all the details of runners, riders, trainers and form, sufficient to make an informed punt on the likely winner; despite this, none of my selections came home in front, the only compensation being that I did not place any actual bets, providing a useful lesson for the group of eight and nine year-old schoolchildren there on a somewhat unorthodox educational visit – enjoy the racing not the gambling.

Swede

Monday is supermarket shop day (I like routine, agreeing with Sheldon from the Big Bang Theory that it frees the mind from having to make too many trivial decisions) alternating between Aldi (good value) and Morrisons (less so but some brands we just can’t do without), and today I am on automatic pilot in Aldi queuing at the till with a conveyor belt full of groceries when a bloke makes his way down the line holding just a swede asking if he can go first; of course I oblige but can’t help wondering why would anyone be so desperate for a swede to go out purely for that purchase – milk yes, eggs yes, bread yes, beer ok, cigs ok, but a swede!

Christmas Prescience

With 44 days to Christmas the starting gun seems to have been fired for the launch of those overblown and at the same time incredibly twee, feature length ‘brand’ adverts crammed with unsubtle festive images intended to link in any gullible shopper’s mind an unbreakable connection between their particular store and the provision of a perfect Christmas; for a few days it is fun trying to guess who’s wasted their millions on which, but as the 44 days wind down they will become increasingly irritating, tiresome and in my case at least counter-productive.

Pipped

Took part in a quiz for the third time in about a month, looking to improve on previous performances of 7^th out of 12 and rank bottom out of 5, and things looked good as we were three points in the lead going in to the last round of questions, or rather riddles along the line of “can a man marry his widow’s sister” (A: of course not he must be dead to have a widow!); given the trickiness of the questions, often turning on dubious semantics, we did quite well to get 14 out of 20, but our nearest rivals got 18 and so pipped us by a point.

Kindless in Darlington

Kindless is my newly synthesised word for the state of being without a kindle when you really need, it like this evening when “Dad’s Taxi” was booked for 5pm but an unavoidable delay put the pick-up back to 6pm just as I arrived in Darlington, for once without a book to while away such otherwise dead time; plan A was to go to the library and find on the shelves, preferably, a book I am already in the middle of – but it was shut; plan B was Waterstones to (more surreptitiously) do the same – but by the time I got there it too was close to closing; plan C was Café Nero – open till 6 – where I used the time productively in writing this, using a pen borrowed from an obliging barista and a paper napkin just about up to the job.

Whorlton Bridge

Halfway through today’s seven mile section of the Teesdale Way Path (from Barnard Castle to Winston) is Whorlton, a pretty little village whose lack of café, pub or even bench on the green is compensated in part by its splendid 1831 vintage suspension bridge spanning the broad Tees with a single track carriageway of timber planks; the tariff notice of the same vintage informs me that the toll to cross on foot is a penny (that’s an old penny – 1d) and 4d to cross in a horse drawn coach; thank goodness I didn’t bring a score of cows with me – that would have topped the lot at 5d.

Leaves

Autumn leaves, heaven on trees but hell on the ground, particularly on the lawn and hard-standing at the front of the house to where, despite there being no trees within 30 yards, the sheddings of half the village are carried by the prevailing winds and dumped in sculpted swirls and heaps; a couple of hours of repeated raking, sweeping, bagging and compressing eventually exposes the grass and block paving, at least until the next windy day deposits another harvest.

Iron Man

In the ranking of household chores ironing comes quite high as it doesn’t involve getting hands wet or kneeling down, and the difference from before to after is discernible even to me, with a mountain of clothes in the drying room disappearing into various drawers and wardrobes; in addition the mental drudgery of the task can be ameliorated by listening to pre-recorded Radio 4 serialisations (today Thackeray’s Vanity Fair narrated by Stephen Fry) without detriment to productivity - it has to be radio though, watching TV either slows me down or burns my fingers.

Ice-cream Cats

Ben and Jerry returned from their two night stay in their cat hotel, where they are known as the ice-cream cats, and took no time to make themselves at home again: Jerry is black with classic white trimmings, the bigger cat who demands his meals, eats them fast and then brazenly tucks into his brother’s bowl; Ben is smaller, white with dark tabby stripes down his back, and is less bothered with his food but more demanding of attention with his aggressive head-buts and his speciality “I’m a tart, stroke my tummy” rollover.

Nottingham

(Saturday 2/11/13)

With wife and son visited Nottingham where younger daughter and partner, having now left their student life well behind, have put down their first tentative roots with proper jobs and a respectable flat in a fashionable suburb just over the river not too far from Trent Bridge and the football grounds; after the guided tour, leaving son to board with his sister, we grown-ups checked in to more spacious accommodation at Swan’s Hotel before taking a short but windy walk to meet up again at The Orchid restaurant, plain on the outside but providing tasty, freshly cooked Cantonese cuisine and chop sticks with which to eat it (with varying degrees of success).

(Sunday 3/11/13)

A bright and breezy day with blustery showers as we all walked into Nottingham and had a look at the Castle Museum and Art Gallery which had an eclectic mix of artefacts, art (unintelligible modern and pretty dull traditional) and history that kept us warm and dry for a while, and in one location provided some amusement for the younger generation in the form of random music generated by how and where they carried what looked like a pizza delivery box; this worked up an appetite well satisfied by pasta, gnocchi and pizza in an Ask Italian, before we returned to the flat and said our goodbyes – comforted in my case by the realisation of not so much losing a daughter as gaining a pied-a-terre close to a couple of football grounds and a test cricket venue.

Oats

November is my least favourite month as the increasing cold and decreasing daylight is, unlike December, unrelieved by the proximity of Christmas; in compensation its start also signals for me the beginning of the porridge season with tasty rolled oats cooked slowly in warm milk (none of that instant stuff) and topped with Demerara sugar making a fine winter breakfast.

Dress Code

Today’s job interview was for a managerial post, albeit part time, so yesterday’s lecturer look of check shirt, knitted tie and zip-up jacket was ditched for the pinstripe suit and its sober accessories; not that they did any good as there has been no phone call since, and after an interview no news is rarely good news.

Degree of Difficulty

Interview number one attended, for a post as casual maths tutor, sparking a bit of a search for my degree certificate through various boxes of documents and souvenirs for a hopefully eye-catching twelve inch long bright red tube; it was found before panic set in (so that’s four years study I don’t need to repeat) but in the end was not needed today as I passed unscathed through the initial selection process to earn a place on the books.

Preston Hall

Likely to be the only fine day of the half term holiday so it was a family outing to Preston Park, last visited some years ago, and Preston Hall, even longer neglected and now a much more interesting museum with well interpreted exhibits linking to Stockton’s heritage; these include three items from the “History of the North East in 100 Objects” collection, including some of John Walker’s friction matches, and much about one-time Preston Hall owner Robert Ropner who left his native Prussia as a young man to sail the world but, suffering from sea-sickness, got off at Hartlepool and eventually became a shipbuilding magnate and local philanthropist.

Preparation

Two of the job applications have overcome shortlisting so today was spent doing some preparation in readiness to be interviewed for the first time in 20 years; I’m used to sitting on the employer’s side of the table and asking the questions so it will be a change not to know the answers in advance, but on the positive side I will only have to sit through them once.

Disorderly Fans

The second of the NFL international series, on live TV from Wembley, was as expected a bit one-sided with the San Francisco 49ers outclassing the Jacksonville Jaguars, whose flag bearing cheerleaders also got a bit befuddled and out of order as they proudly paraded JAGURAS with their flags; not as funny as the five lads from Darlington at the same stadium for the 2011 FA Trophy final who each sported a letter from DARLO on their bare and rather portly torsos but, unfortunately if not inappropriately, lined up as LARDO.

Two Blues

With no FA Cup tie within 80 miles I took a busman’s holiday to watch a Northern League game at Heritage Park home of Bishop Auckland, also known as the “two blues” for their halved dark blue and light blue shirts reflecting the club’s original formation by theological students from Oxford & Cambridge Universities studying at Auckland Castle; in a tight game today the two blues blew it, losing 2-1 to a Sunderland team that isn’t bottom of the league.

The Light

Yea I have seen the light, it cometh from the re-bulbed kitchen spotlights that dazzle eyes and brighten the dark corners of the world where dwell demons, or at least cobwebs; and further the light that illuminates the word now shines forth with renewed strength (due to replacement batteries in the ‘mighty bright’ book light).

Belt & Laces

The day is bright and sunny, perfect for walking a good stretch of the Teesdale Way Path from Piercebridge to Blackwell, but in getting kitted out I can’t find the belt to my walking pants, which should not be a problem as they have an elasticated waist (more and more necessary these days); however I realise my error before a mile is out as the pants begin to droop and require hoiking up irritatingly often, prompting a quick rifle through the emergency equipment that lives in my rucksack front pocket: cotton wool to plug ears in a cold wind; needle and tweezers for splinter removal; plasters and out of date medication; whistle to attract rescuers; multi-tool to take stones out of horses’ hooves – nothing of any use in a pants emergency – until I drag out a spare bootlace, long enough to circumscribe my waist via the belt loops with enough left over to tie a double bow that holds everything in place for the remaining six miles.

Diamond Geezer

Attaining the age of sixty confers fewer privileges than you might expect with the state pension aeons away, a bus pass a distant dream, concessionary tickets to sports events a bit hit and miss, and even the senior railcard available only at a cost; however there are no problems with joining the B&Q over 60’s Diamond Club entitling a 10% discount (on a Wednesday only) that today gave me a saving of £5.38 on wood and light bulbs, although the barn roof project has been held up and the kitchen has been a bit dark for the best part of a week.

Compost

Met up with ex-colleague and fellow retiree Bob today for one of our biannual catch-ups over a pub lunch in Yarm and although most of our chat would be meaningless to share, concerning the fate of former workmates and the scrapes we got into, I did gain useful advice in the matter of composting - my current heap is a bit sloppy and apparently needs 'layering with carboniferous matter and occasional turning'; this is not as bad as my previous heap that became something of a fast food outlet for rats that feasted on those wrinkly apples and soft bananas before being wiped out by the pest control man’s poison, which also did for the compost.

Filled In

The Big Hole in the street, or the moat that it briefly became after Sunday’s downpour, got filled in today when two men and a mechanical shovel mounted on the back of a lorry parked outside the house and started lifting loads of earth up and over the top of my car; it seemed churlish to point out the likelihood of debris spilling out, particularly as they were armed with shovels, were standing next to a coffin shaped trench, and had the means at hand to fill it – I didn’t want to be ‘filled in’ and anyway the car’s due a wash.

Fruit Crumble

When the apples in the fruit bowl get a bit soft, being too mean to throw them out, I sometimes buy a pack of berries to combine with them in a fruit crumble, but more often than not this just leads, a week later, to tipping both the apples (now soft and wrinkly) and the berries (now mouldy) into the compost heap; however this week it was money well spent and today a fine apple and blueberry crumble graced the dining table.

Billingham Ballboys

Last time I was at Billingham Synthonia’s Central Avenue, a cavernous arena within an oval running track and grassy banks, stray shots at goal were retrieved by a single superannuated bloke in a track suit, but today seven keen young lads were on duty, whose aggregated age would not match their predecessor; kitted out in fluorescent training bibs down to their knees they did a top notch job, totally earning their remuneration which included (and may have been limited to) burgers at half time.

Water Fowl

As part of the new exercise regime I plan to walk 7 miles a week so today, while in Sedgefield for shopping (Bolams) and the Library (no longer stuck on U – see 4/10), I walked to Hardwick Park and around the Lake in cool, cloudy but windless weather and took enjoyment from the water fowl on view: coots with their distinctive white foreheads, although they seemed more determined to show their bottoms as they dabbled for food; mallards with the glossy green necked males waddling after their plainer (to us) potential mates; Canada or barnacle geese – the ones with the white chinstrap – honking merrily; and two pristine white swans with a couple of downy cygnets; a very pleasant 3 miles to put to the week’s total.

Big Hole

How many days does it take to dig a hole? – seven so far, when it has to go from the cottages opposite, currently under renovation, over the village green, across the High Street and under the pavement outside our house to connect to the electricity supply there (why the connection cannot be made on the other side of the street is a mystery as there are adjacent properties there that clearly have power); so we have an ever growing hole slowly eating its way along the access to the block paved hardstanding which makes vehicular manoeuvres tricky, even with a Smart, but on the other hand the temporary stop go lights are quite an effective traffic calming measure.

Application

The early retirement was meant to be semi-retirement with the pension supplemented by some part time occupation that would also get me out of the house, but after one short term (if lucrative) engagement, a couple of training courses and a pleasant summer break, I find myself not bored but feeling under-utilised with just the occasional school minibus drive to do; perusing the small ads revealed a part time finance post that may be just the job so today the application went off, the third to be despatched into the current unpromising employment market.

Qualifier

The last gasp games of the qualifying group stages are always the best with caution thrown to the wind and tension high, and tonight’s game was no exception with England throwing everything at another Polish goalkeeper (with Jan Tomaszewski watching on) but after eighty-five minutes only getting one goal past him; it was squeaky bum time for Roy Hodgson, and the rest of us, until captain Stevie Gerrard surged through to poke in a goal that ensures England will be in the World Cup finals in Brazil next June.

Quilter

Not me, it is my wife who cuts and sews material into intricate patchwork quilts, and having supplied family members she is turning her attention to our own newly redecorated bedroom; this time, learning from experience the individual patterns are to be planned in advance to ensure a pleasing final aggregation, which is where my aptitude for order, symmetry and jigsaw solving is called on.

Roofer

Phase one of the cunning plan to fix the barn roof was completed today without a hitch as my supplementary roof structure was hoisted up the ladder and secured in place; the rain currently hammering down will be a good test but hopefully the repair will be successful and enable me to repeat the process for the remaining problem areas.

Marske Mascot

Saturday football took me back to Marske-by-the-Sea for the big FA Cup tie with Halesowen Town, and football aside (see other blog for details) the highlight was the home team’s new mascot, or should it be Marske-ot, in the form of a human bulldog dressed in the home strip with a head more resembling a wild boar than Churchill the insurance dog; he insinuated himself into the opening handshake ritual to the bemusement of the officials and opponents and danced a joyous jig at the final whistle before being mobbed by the players amid calls from some fans for RSPCA intervention.

mima

The Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art may be better known for hosting an edition of Top Gear than for its works of art, unfairly on the basis of this, my first, visit which took in the soon to close exhibition of Alex Katz paintings, watercolours by local-born and internationally renowned William Tillyer, and a celebration of the 20^th anniversary of the adjacent Bottle of Notes sculpture; I am no art buff (“but I know what I like”) so it’s mainly a pleasant way to spend a couple of hours looking at Katz’s bold canvasses, admiring Tillyer’s coloured swirls, and learning the genesis of the Bottle, before finishing off with a cup of tea and a cheese scone (the latter a work of art itself).

Rugby Coach

The nearest I get to a rugby coach is driving one - the local primary school team’s minibus to Darlington for a tag rugby tournament, which was my introduction to a game I found frustrating to watch as the only way to stop an opponent was to pull off one of two plastic ribbons Velcro-ed to a belt, making it a bit of a lottery especially with them flapping about in the stiff breeze; the boys and girls did well against opponents from bigger schools and most importantly got some vigorous exercise in the more than fresh air.

Chicken Curry

For son George’s silver Duke of Edinburgh award he needs to learn a new skill, and as it is cookery he is starting from ground zero; nevertheless today’s chicken curry came home and made a delicious tea which his mother and I polished off despite having had a precautionary and very tasty lunch out at Da Vinci’s in Yarm.

Open Wide

Eight months fly past when it is the interval between dental examinations but on the dreaded day all went as well as it could; Hurworth dentist Mark began with “open wide” and finished shortly after with “not bad for a sixty year-old man” (an increasingly familiar refrain), so it is OK for another eight months and once my jaw muscles were back to normal I celebrated in the Bay Horse where I was happy to open my mouth wide again and swallow a glass of excellent Jennings Cumberland Ale.

Kindling

A quick analysis of the year’s reading to date indicates that e-books now make up about 40% of my reading, which is not surprising as, although I love proper books, the electronic ones have many attractive features such as: portability (although I still took 3 printed books on holiday); ease of bedtime reading (the book light does not flop about or get caught up in the turning pages); zero bookshelf space requirement (very much in short supply); adjustable font size (an age thing); and availability of bargains in the Kindle store (of which I took advantage today with three purchases for a total of £3.87  - The Good Lawyer by Thomas Benigno, The Geneva Trap by Stella Rimington, and The Dream Lover by William Boyd).

In-laws

A quiet day punctuated by a visit from my mother- and father-in-law who often pop in on a late Sunday morning for a cup of tea and a chat, sometimes en route to or from a car boot sale, sometimes for no other reason than to catch up on family gossip; with my own family generally scattered across the country the concept of just dropping in is something I was unused to but now accept as normal and welcome.

Public Transport

The prospect of travelling to Ossett to watch Darlington play their FA Trophy tie was not initially appealing, involving a 160 mile drive down the A1 and back, so out of curiosity I looked at public transport options and found an hourly direct train service from Darlington to Dewsbury and an 18 minute bus ride, every ten minutes, from Dewsbury to Ossett, where the ground is adjacent to the bus station; there was a bit of necessary waiting but it all worked like clockwork and taking advantage of the TransPennine 55+ promotion the train fare was just £14.40, with another £2 ‘plus bus’ ticket covering the bus legs of the journey – a winner (as was Darlington 1883).

Stuck on U

After the physical exertions of the last two days it is back to more sedentary interests, writing a review for the book blog and then off to the local library to browse works by authors whose surnames begin with a U, needed for my ‘Along the Library Shelf’ reading journey (which adds a dimension of unpredictability to my reading by selecting a book from 26 ‘new to me’ authors whose surnames begin with each letter of the alphabet, in order, from A to Z); T’s were in abundance and I ended up with two I could not choose between, but U’s are limited to three including two by an author previously read, so I’ll need to try again in a week or two.

Runswick Bay

Accompanied by fellow ancient roamer and ex-university chum Pete, took a seven mile walk from Lythe on the North York Moors across field paths to a convenient bench high above Runswick Bay, where we had our packed lunches admiring the North Sea view before returning via the cliff-top path and more fields to Lythe; the weather was kind, warm for October with hazy sunshine but blowy on the cliffs, with the only disappointment being the absence of tea and cake at Lythe, rectified partially by a drive to Runswick where tea (but no cake) was obtained at the Cliffemount Hotel.

Gym

I suspended my Gym membership over summer as I reckoned (erroneously) I would get enough exercise by taking long walks and riding my bike, however with the dark nights returning and time to kill in Sedgefield while son is training with the Harriers, it is either an hour in the pub or the same in the gym; cost wise it’s a toss-up so I am reinstated and tonight began the winter regime of powerwalking, rowing machine and exercise bike, which went surprisingly well and left me feeling virtuous but hungry for my fish & chips.

Glasgow 2014

Received e-mail confirmation of tickets for next year’s Commonwealth Games in three of the four sports applied for; unfortunately nothing for the velodrome but successful in getting the requested allocation for the rugby sevens, table tennis, and two evenings of athletics including the final of the men’s 200m, enabling son George to see the very best in his own event.

Knickknacks

Still putting the bedroom back together including reinstating my small wall hung cabinet of knickknacks, ornaments and souvenirs that may say something about me and mine: various Andrew Brownswold cute bear models – reading a book, driving a car, in bed, holding roses & balloons (wife’s take on my typical poses?); crystal fish (Piscean); pot Buddha (dabbled once upon a time); brass elephants, blue horse and Thai tuk tuk made from a Sangha beer can (presents from daughters’ travels); brass monkeys (from Grandma’s and then Mum’s house); cyclist on a racing bike (Tour de France fan); wire trumpet (like a  bit of jazz); baseball version of the Universal Studios globe (baseball rather than theme-parks); two scruffy bears (can’t imagine the connection there); at least the cabinet (from the Vendee) is glass fronted so the contents avoid the alternative name of dust-gatherers.

Gutters

September comes but once a year – it’s time to get your gutters clear; so that means defying the breezy conditions and scaling the fully extended ladder, footed by sturdy son George, to harvest the hanging gardens of Bishopton in advance of the Autumn rains.

Whodunnit?

Tonight attended a murder mystery dinner with a few friends at The Smiths pub in Carlton where a cast of seven interspersed the courses with snippets of dialogue purporting to contain clues then, after dessert, the detective announced the murder and reported salient facts, before giving each table the opportunity to question the suspects and plump for the murderer; maybe not as much fun as organising your own but this way no one has to cook, and the food at The Smiths was as good as ever.
 

George Hotel

Made a start on a long distance path, the Teesdale Way running 92 miles from high in the North Pennines to the North Sea, with today’s stage just an easy five miles from Winston to Piercebridge; the finish at the latter celebrated with a glass of Black Sheep at the George Hotel where a small wedding party was in full swing, taking me back 16 years to my own wedding in the same location.

Dad 88*

Phoned my Dad today to wish him a happy eighty-eighth birthday and found him chipper and for once able to hear me well enough to chat and exchange news – we’ve been to Scarborough for a change, they’ve been to Blackpool for no change, visiting the same hotel for the umpteenth consecutive year; living over 100 miles away on the other side of the Pennines I don’t see him as often as I should, apart from every morning looking back at me in the bathroom mirror!

Glasses

Not so much a red letter day as a read letters day as new glasses were procured and successfully tested on the bottom line of the test card; the high tech light-reactive varifocals do the lot – reading, watching TV, shopping, driving, and even sunglasses – in one, admittedly pricey, package which is particularly helpful now that the specs spend more time on my nose than in their case.

Carpet Slippers

Retirement requires heavy duty slippers that are up to the rigours of serious relaxation and at Christmas younger daughter, getting the hint from my old ones held together by duct tape, gave me a pair with sturdy rubber reinforcement on the soles that even after 9 months have not worn down, but have unfortunately worn up through the fluffy linings and into my feet; purchased insoles were not up to the job, but as the old bedroom carpet had not yet gone to the tip some judicious work with the scissors soon replicated a set in fake Axminster.

Galapagos (Monday 23/9/13)

The Kindle deal of the day just occasionally tempts, and today 99p got me ‘Galapagos’ by Kurt Vonnegut, whose haunting ‘Slaughterhouse 5’ has stuck in my consciousness (reinforced by the Donald Sutherland film and an excellent radio adaptation) since reading it in 1972 when, as a student, I also got my paperback copy signed by the man himself who visited Edinburgh University on a promotional tour.

Man Drawer (Sunday 22/9/13)

Moving the furniture back into the redecorated bedroom gives an incentive to clear out, or at least thin out, a couple of man drawers in the bedside cabinet, so into the bin liner go: three phials of rancid after-shave; two broken watches; instructions for one of the same along with those for two superceded radio alarm clocks; scores of birthday and fathers’ day cards; numerous ticket stubs for events of variable significance; spare buttons for garments long since discarded; - with other items relocated (photos, packs of tissues, receipts) the outcome is a complete drawer freed up and scope to start accumulating more of the same again.

Marske (Saturday 21/9/13)

At this time of year my following of the FA Cup and Vase not only gets me out of the house each Saturday but takes me to places I would visit for no other reason, and today that is Marske on the East Cleveland coast between Redcar and Saltburn; arriving early for the match I was able to sit awhile in the pleasant town square amid the lawns and flowerbeds watching the local folk going in and out of the local shops without a megalithic superstore in sight.

Carpeted (Friday 20/9/13)

The carpet fitters came and did their thing taking just 30 minutes to produce a perfect job, a quick end to a bedroom makeover project that began last spring with interminable paint-stripping of skirting boards down to the natural wood, took up a week of summer with wallpapering and painting, and required many a weekend perusing bedding and curtains in more shades of blue than I knew existed.

Launch (Thursday 19/9/13)

Launched the new blog with the September to date ‘backblog’ containing the pilot entries for the month so far which lead me to believe the blog viable and diverting. I think of it as a sort of Facebook without friends but with more considered content.

Mogger (Wednesday 18/9/13)

Tony Mowbray, manager of Middlesbrough FC, officially opened the new sports hall at Hurworth School in the presence of the PE GCSE students, VIPs and a few governors such as myself; a proud moment as this almost (not quite – still the hall to do) completes a decade of improvements at the school to create facilities that match the dedication of the staff in their pursuit of excellence.

Window-cleaning (Tuesday 17/9/13)

I am led to believe that a semi-retired executive must take increased responsibilities for household chores, and my unwise comments on the cost of hiring a regular window cleaner (“it only takes him 5 minutes, I’ll do it myself”) have come home to roost; however after 90 minutes the downstairs fenestration was transparent once more, the UVPC frames were nearer white than grey, and I was in need of a few days’ rest before tackling upstairs.

Gospels (Monday 16/9/13)

Went to see the Lindisfarne Gospels exhibited at Durham and found them beautifully presented with visitor numbers well managed to give space and time to see the displays, understand the context, and feel the power of the written word, not just in the featured volume but in other books and documents on display.

Backblog week 2

Segway (Sunday 15/09/2013)

Son George and a pal had an hour’s fun on these oddball machines which look strange singly but slightly sinister when in a group of ten, not quite synchronised, heading across a field at Ripley Castle; I think it’s due to the lack of apparent movement needed in the human drivers, making them look superfluous and the Segway appear in control.

Brewery Field (Saturday 14/09/2013)

Attended a match at the home of Spennymoor Town FC, FA Vase winners last year, but today knocked out of this season’s (tougher) FA Cup in an entertaining and competitive first qualifying round tie by the higher ranking Lancaster City.

Haircut (Friday 13/09/2013)

“Hair cut Sir!” is the old fashioned sign in Matthew Jones’ shop window, but in the chair in addition to a professional trim you get a proper conversation; today we covered music, books, football and real ale.

Man Booker (Thursday 12/09/2013)

Today I saw the short list for this year’s Man Booker prize which in my experience generally contains books to steer clear of, however the inclusion of a book by Colm Toibin has caused me to reconsider my decision to return to the library, unfinished, one of her previous books ‘Brooklyn’ that, fifty pages in, seemed to be going nowhere; I’ll now persevere and renew it instead.

Plants (Wednesday 11/09/2013)

Pensioner Wednesday is our ironic name for the day when my (relatively) young spouse spends her non-working day pretending to be retired and accompanying me on a mooch around one of the market towns of South Durham and North Yorkshire; today though it’s just a trip to the garden centre to buy a few end of season, raggedly looking, bargain plants to nurture for next spring while of course finding time for a relaxing coffee and scone (cherry and almond) in the tea room.

Grassroots (Tuesday 10/09/2013)

England live on TV in Kiev to face Ukraine in a ‘vital’ world cup qualifier or Jarrow Roofing live in Boldon against Thornaby in the even more vital (being sudden death) 1^st qualifying round of the FA Vase was the dilemma; but the weather is fine and my annual attempt to attend a match in each round could be saved due to this rearranged tie, so I plump for grassroots and am rewarded by a fine competitive match, exciting to the 3-1 finish, in contrast to the reported 0-0 bore draw on TV.

Barn (Monday 09/09/2013)

The large, rather grandly named, outhouse in the back garden needs some serious DIY attention to prevent ingress of rainwater, so most of today spent up a ladder trying to figure out a way to solve the problem without taking the roof off; I have a plan but time will tell whether it is a cunning one or not.

Backblog week 1

Scarborough (Sunday 08/09/2013)

A sunny day with a fresh breeze, archetypal Scarborough, encouraged us to stroll along the North Bay promenade, take in a coffee, ride the tramway up to town, stroll back through the shops to the seaside, then climb steeply up to the castle where the car awaited for the drive home.

Ayckbourn (Saturday 07/09/2013)

A trip to the Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough to see ‘Arrivals and Departures’ written and directed by the renowned Alan Ayckbourn; played out in the round with no scenery and minimal props the play begins as a comedy, but becomes more thought-provoking as the main two characters, on the surface so different, share with us flashbacks from their earlier lives that shows their emotional journeys give them common ground after all.

Bus-trip (Friday 06/09/2013)

The village bus service to Darlington was discontinued some time ago due to council cuts but after much lobbying and effort from the ward councillor a partial service has been re-established with two journeys (actually three there but bizarrely only two back) three days a week; I gave it my support to facilitate a visit to the bank, even more necessary once I paid the return fare of £6.20, and was rewarded with a high speed white knuckle ride through the infamous flash flooded roads that permeate the area after any sustained period of rain.

Tax (Thursday 05/09/2013)

After many years under PAYE my multiple, if minor, streams of income now combine to require completion of a tax return to HMRC and today I bite the bullet and plod meticulously through the relevant pages, sourcing evidence of the pittances of interest received from the villainous banks (could I invest wiser?) and the various charity aid donations (am I giving enough?) along with the more meaty P45s and P60s (what did I do with all that money?); the outcome will be a bit of a tax bill, but less than I previously estimated, so overall a bit of a winner.

Audit (Wednesday 04/09/2013)

Back to the (once) day job with a leisurely check of the annual accounts of a local group of singers whose business model is a worthy one of collecting subscriptions from the members to fund rehearsals then putting on concerts, the proceeds of which go not to the group but to support a range of charities; as I can’t sing in tune the least I can do is correct the accounts for the 1p error.

Certificates (Tuesday 03/09/2013)

Mt five-year-old car received its MOT certificate without drama which enabled me to drive on to Stockton Riverside College to, amongst a general catch up with old (by which I mean former) colleagues, enquire about my SAGE level 1 accounting exam result; just arrived was my certificate from the International Association of Bookkeepers to confirm not just a pass but a ‘distinction with commendation’ – it’s nice to know I can still do the basics after 30+ years’ experience and 1 year out of the job.

Schooldays (Monday 02/09/2013)

The new academic year starts with my wife returning for a PD day at the primary school and son due to start back tomorrow for his final, GCSE, year at secondary; for me it means a return to solitary Mondays to Fridays (but not Wednesdays) to plough my lonely furrow through housework, DIY, gardening, shopping, and home-management bureaucracy, with the occasional break to stroke a cat, read a book or post a blog over a cup of tea and a biscuit.

Mongolia (Sunday 01/09/2013)

The wonder of Skype makes elder daughter’s move to teach in Mongolia not such a worry and today we got a guided tour of her apartment (from all sort of odd angles as the laptop was carted around) and was able to chat and see she was fine and enjoying the excitement and novelty of the newly arrived.