Winter’s Tail

Although 21 days short of the vernal equinox, my predilection for calendar based seasons means that today, for me, is the end of Winter, if anything a day ahead of itself with blue skies, warm sunshine, green shoots and paired up ducks in spring-like evidence during a walk around Hardwick Park; in truth this winter has been embarrassingly uneventful for us in the north east of England, the incessant and damaging south-westerly storms not only shed their loads before reaching us (our flood prone roads that normally cut off the village two or three times a year remained passable throughout) but also kept our usual snow at bay and our early morning windscreens largely frost-free, giving conditions mild enough in our garden for a rose to continue in flower right through to February.

Presents for Pastimes

The final birthday present arrived today providing, along with two others I omitted to mention yesterday, three items to support my three favourite pastimes: a new reporter’s jotter will come in handy to make notes at football matches visited; a buff (my first venture into this clothing line) will keep out the wind when walking the hills; and today’s arrival, Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand will provide excellent reading, being a book that has been on my wish list for some time; are my family extremely perceptive of my needs or am I all too predictable in my wants?

Birthday 61

When working I made it a point of principle to take the day off on my birthday, but such manoeuvring is no longer necessary for me, nor for my wife today, it being her normal day off, enabling us to lunch together at Da Vinci’s in Yarm; later I unwrapped presents well keyed in to my lifestyle – a case and a Google play voucher for my Hudl, a cook book to expand my culinary repertoire, a new blue hoodie and a pair of slippers to replace the high-wear items in my somewhat casual wardrobe, and a couple of bottles (Rioja and Harvey’s Sherry) to help me wind down from a hard day’s relaxation – and there is still something in the post to look forward to.

Waiting In

Today I had to wait in not just for one thing, which is bad enough - having to stay within range of the front door indefinitely, unwilling even to go to the loo in case the anticipated arrival knocks, shoves a card through the letter box and runs off before you can respond - but for four visitors of which only two had specific time slots, so I could have been waiting round all day or been faced with three at once, however it all turned out fine: our Freecycle items were picked up on the dot of 8.30; the asbestos man came as agreed at 9.00 (and confirmed we had none in the barn); by 10.00 the box of CDs for Music Magpie had been collected; and the oil tanker pulled up at about 11.30; all done and dusted by 12 noon enabling me to prepare lunch without fear of interruption and take that delayed comfort break.

Freecycle

The barn is dominating my life at present with more time spent today sorting stuff into keep and not keep, with the latter category split between dump and Freecycle, which we finally got round to joining on Saturday; the response to our offered items was immediate, with requests coming in for all of them, and the biggest item, the multi-gym, was out of the house by this evening, with the paddling pool and bike carrier due for pick-up tomorrow – it’s good to give serviceable items we no longer need a new lease of life, but interestingly the rules do forbid (amongst more obvious things) offering yourself or your children!

Remembrance of Décor Past

In a deep dark corner of the barn I uncovered the half full pots of paint (and assorted tiles) that are left over from decorating but kept to deal with the unlikely event that a wall suffers some calamity that requires it to be partially repainted; this, of course, has never once happened, and even if it did how would I be able to match the shade of magnolia on the wall with the name on the tin, how to tell muffin from coffee cream or burnt biscuit from banana crumble, or any other exotic name dreamt up by the marketing men and women.

Barn Space

The next phase of work in the barn brings in professional builders in nine days to put in the mezzanine floor to create more and better storage capacity for items to come out of the house and the miscellany of stuff already in there which currently fills it and which now needs to be squeezed into jut half the space, to give the builders room to work; as a start shelves of tins, boxes, jars and ‘I can’t believe it’s not butter’ tubs containing plumbing, electrical and general DIY bits were emptied, sorted, thinned out and repackaged in standard ice cream tubs, labelled accordingly before being placed in storage boxes and stuffed into a cupboard; next more space was created by moving the garden furniture into the house, where the cane chairs were immediately colonised by the cats.

Sporting Anti-climax

Nothing scheduled today but a couple of potentially attractive sporting clashes on TV with the GB men making the curling final at the Winter Olympics this afternoon and then this evening a rugby union Six Nations clash between Wales and France from Cardiff, but both turned out disappointments; on the ice the GB curlers started badly and then tailed off, conceding the gold medal with a couple of ends to go, then in Cardiff the French had a similarly disastrous start, coughing up an early penalty and try and never getting back into the game, but that’s sport for you and there is always another game to look forward to, in fact two tomorrow – West Auckland Town v Hallen live in the FA Vase and England v Ireland in the Six Nations on TV.

Mallard 75 (The Great Farewell)

Billed as a once in a lifetime opportunity, I could not miss a visit to Locomotion in Shildon to see the six remaining A4 class locomotives gathered together (including two shipped from the US and Canada) to celebrate the 75^th anniversary of Mallard setting the world speed record for a steam train (which still stands) of 126 mph, so boarding a less memorable Northern Rail 2-car diesel at Heighington I joined a train full of other grey haired blokes in anoraks for a couple of stops before alighting adjacent to the museum; the six engines, here for just a week for the ‘Great Goodbye’ after the ‘Great Gathering’ at York, were impressive in their livery of green (Union of South Africa & Dwight D Eisenhower) or blue (Sir Nigel Gresley, Dominium of Canada, Bittern & Mallard) and of course the rest of the exhibits are worth a visit in their own right, so it was easy to while away three hours among a crowd of mainly enthusiasts with an occasional long-suffering wife and a smattering of bemused youngsters who must have wondered what all the fuss was about, never having experienced the sights, sounds and smells of steam travel that for me are indelibly linked to childhood journeys to exotic annual holiday locations such as Prestatyn, Colwyn Bay, Llandudno or Bournemouth.

Gym Solo

It being half term week, the community college gym was bereft of its usual Wednesday night crew, giving me exclusive access to the equipment at least for the first half hour and enabling me to sing along to my I-pod without embarrassment; I took the opportunity to work out to Carole King’s Tapestry album, one I normally avoid in a crowded gym in case I get carried away and belt out some catchy but inappropriate lyrics such as “you make me feel like a natural woman” or even worse “I didn’t know I could get satisfaction, from just one man”.

Bamburgh - Sunningdale

Took our leave of the Sunningdale Hotel, our regular Bamburgh haunt, after a pleasant stay which this time took in dinner (good choice, well cooked) as well as bed and breakfast; in addition to Barter’s and Budle Bay we also visited Seahouses (on Monday) for a traditional game of crazy golf, and on the way back today, an underwhelming Morpeth.

Bamburgh - Budle Bay (Monday 17/2/14)

The weather holding for the morning we walked along the coast path (St Oswald’s Way) from Bamburgh to Budle Bay and then back along the beach, pretty much alone on the acres of sand revealed by the low tide; the boy, who naturally complained about being forcibly separated from his I-pad, soon reverted to Great Dane puppy mode, gambolling about the beach and pulling up sticks too big even for him, working up an appetite soon satisfied by a visit to the Copper Kettle Tea Rooms on our return to the village.

Bamburgh - Barter’s Books (Sunday 16/2/14)

On the way to Bamburgh took the opportunity to call into possibly the best second-hand bookshop in the world, Barter’s Books, located in the former Alnwick station, (and now enhanced by a cosy buffet providing good wholesome fare) to weigh in a couple of bags of Penguin Classics; although they did not want them all, I did get £50 credit for those they took and immediately used half of it on a few choice volumes from my wish list – including Bill Bryson’s ‘A Walk in the Woods’, Jeanette Winterson’s ‘Lighthousekeeping’, and Martin Meredith’s ‘The State of Africa’.

No Cup Run

The annual quest to take in a match from every round of the FA Cup and FA Vase has suffered this year with rounds in the two competitions sometimes (like today) clashing, requiring a choice to be made in favour of the Vase, being more local longer and having real potential to go all the way to the Wembley final (as last season); today’s plans to attend a Vase last-sixteen tie at West Auckland or Spennymoor were scuppered by late postponements due to waterlogged pitches, opening up a window to go to the Sunderland v Southampton FA Cup tie, immediately closed as by then it was too late to get to the early kick off, leaving only plan C comprising Man City v Chelsea on the TV, so at least a frustrating day ended on a high.

Valentine’s

Having been quizzed by my wife whether my Valentine’s Day plans included showering her with gifts and writing more in the card than just ‘to you, love me’, a trip to Sainsbury’s was in order to bump up the offering to include daffodils, a chocolate rose, a canned cocktail and a bunch of grapes; they were well received along with the bespoke verse I penned in her card, but the fear is I have raised the bar for future years.

Unplugged

With the prospect of paid tutoring work on the horizon I today pulled the plug, after an enlightening eight weeks or so, on my role as voluntary assistant in functional skills classes re-covering, with 16-year-olds, basic primary school maths; the wonder is that after eleven years of compulsory education so many know so little about something so basic, and yet can still operate a mobile phone.

Bountiful

Used a Wednesday too wet and windy for leisure to play Lord and Lady Bountiful distributing stock to Darlington’s charity shops, spreading our largesse over a few establishments – an assorted box to the Dogs’ Trust, a bag of books to Oxfam, another bag to the Butterwick Hospice, and a bicycle to Bike Stop for refurbishment and resale; and with two hours on the parking ticket there was plenty of time left to reward ourselves with a coffee and a scone at Coopers tea shop, tucked away up Post House Wynd.

Nails

The disposal of a couple of bulky yard sale items (goal nets and table football) has freed up space in the barn which, combined with the brighter weather, invalidated my excuses (too dark, too cold, no room to work!) for not making progress with the roof repairs, so today it was full steam ahead, cutting the roofing felt to size, before coming to a grinding halt with the realisation that I had no nails left to affix it in place; for the want of a nail an empire famously fell, but I am made of sterner stuff and after a quick dash to B&Q (and an all-time low spend of £1.96) I was back on task and had the job completed before dark.

Lighter

The first sunny day for a while and with the sun climbing higher and the days get longer the world suddenly looks a brighter place, tempting me out for a walk up the lane and giving the cats an earlier patch of sun by the patio doors in which to lie and luxuriate in some welcome warmth.

Digging Out

What started as an exercise to tidy up my son's bookcase escalated to a thorough digging out of a teenager's bedroom, so not only did the Percy Jackson, Alex Rider, CHERUB and HIVE books get cleared out but also some seriously uncool clothing and those few toys remaining from the previous cull, quickly giving rise to four piles: rubbish for the bin; decent stuff to go to the charity shop; stuff to store for future generations, including 6 boxes of Lego bricks; and items of sentimental value to be kept safely for future reminiscence; the pleasure to be taken from these last items increases with time as I can testify from the recent rummage through my own box of youthful remnants.

Paper Boy

This morning I put in a rare shift earning £3.50 as reserve paperboy, due to my son needing to set off early to shoot paint at people, but the weather was OK and the sun was up as I dutifully provided my neighbours with whatever version of the news their preferred paper presents; is it fair to judge folk by the newspaper they read, and if so what do so many Daily Mails and just one Guardian tell us about the village?

Winter Olympics

Today saw the opening of the Winter Olympics at Sochi heralding 16 days of televised sport which would normally grip me but I’m afraid I find many of these events fail my criteria for “real” sport – where the winner is objectively determined within the rules by being (in the words of the Olympic motto) faster, higher, stronger, or (by extension) winning a game of some sort - so that rules out anything that incorporates a judges subjective (and sometimes politically or personally motivated) opinion such as ice dancing, figure skating, freestyle skiing, acrobatic snowboarding and even the ski jump where marks for style are incorporated; other events while being objectively won or lost lack a head to head competitive element being strictly against the clock – the various skiing and sledging events – leaving for me only the speed skating, ice hockey, curling, and the splendid snowboarding cross as events where the opponents share the arena and compete for glory one on one.

SMT Revisited

Ten years on, the old (both former and aging) Senior Management Team reconvened for a pleasant lunch at the Talbot in Bishopton, with the subjects discussed now of far more general interest than the finance, HR, and estates that consumed our waking hours (and troubled our sleeping ones) as we relocated the business to a new build, on a new site, what seems an age ago; today the talk was all about holidays, grandchildren, dietary needs and some surprisingly active (physically and mentally) leisure pursuits, which goes to show we are not quite yet the Senile Management Team.

Quaint and Quirky

I accompanied my wife to Stockton where I replenished my stock of socks at Matalan and my stock of cash at the bank before repairing to the Quaint and Quirky Café on the High Street for a tasty and very reasonably priced early lunch; I have patronised it a few times since it opened in the Autumn and quite like the unpretentious ambiance that still lives up to the name on the door, with patterned wallpaper, comfy chairs, flower print tablecloths, china tea sets, and lots of ornaments and knick-knacks - in fact it’s a bit like having afternoon tea in your Nana’s front room.

Traditional Tales

Planning a full day school trip to a country park in early February was optimistic but a break in the weather gave us almost spring-like conditions for our well wrapped-up five and six-year-old pupils to enjoy as they explored the woods, paths and follies of the old Hardwick estate, and related what they saw to the traditional tales they had heard in the classroom; a full day out means packed lunches and help needed with packaging that defeats tiny fingers, and lots of hand-washing (which in one case was attempted without first removing gloves), but worth it all to see them have such fun exercising both their bodies and their imaginations.

Super Bowl XLVIII

As ever the Super Bowl got underway in the early hours of the UK morning but the late night is generally worthwhile for the high octane sport, spectacle and hype; after the last two years’ close encounters that were uncertain right up to the last play, last night’s was plain sailing for the Seahawks who romped away with scores from Defence and Special Teams as well as from the Offence, and more impressively restricted the Broncos’ star quarterback Peyton Manning to just one touchdown, so while the game wasn’t close it was still engrossing enough (along with the beer, sandwiches, crisps and eventually coffee) to keep sleep at bay through to the 3 a.m. finish.

Sunday Lunch

Went to the local pub with the in-laws for an excellent Sunday lunch of roast beef or pork with the traditional vegetables, Yorkshire pudding, gravy and sauces followed by a range of tasty desserts; with no other diners present my father-in-law was able to indulge his hobby of cross examining complete strangers, in this case the waitress, to discover more about them than is conventionally revealed, no wonder he ended up in the CID.

Hard Questions

Tonight’s quizmaster at the cricket club quiz was one of the toughest and gave us a good grilling with questions such as what swimming stroke is used by monkeys and what are the three prime factors of 2014, and asking us to identify Benedict Cumberbatch from a photo of him as a baby; even the winning team didn’t manage a hundred out of 125 and our (tonight slightly enhanced) team’s 63, just over 50%, earned us just £3 for ninth place out of eleven.