Solar, So Good?

The solar panel salesman called on Monday and produced financial projections that were interesting enough to secure my signature in the knowledge that I had seven days to examine the figures more closely and cancel if necessary, and sure enough under scrutiny the benefits seemed over-egged so today we high tailed down to the office with a cancellation letter; this caused some consternation and the big boss and I thrashed out the figures for an hour or so before we left with greater understanding and a new set of more accurate figures to consider at my leisure (but without the cancellation letter that remained with them in the meantime).

Zizzi's Harrogate

As my daughter and partner returned from the Lakes to Nottingham we intercepted them at Harrogate where we all lunched at Zizzi's on tasty Italian cuisine; the service was a little slow but that suited us fine, giving us more time to exchange news, views and plan to do's.

Fifth Wheel

The fifth wheel on a vehicle is usually superfluous, but I have found driving for the last six months (and five years before that in the previous car) with the wheel-shaped well in the boot housing only a patented rubber solution and a complicated looking pump, somewhat discomforting when on the move and utterly useless when punctured; however today I took delivery of a "space saver" wheel that tucks neatly away in the bottom of the Juke's three tier boot, from where it will provide peace of mind, even if it does turn out to be superfluous (I should be so lucky) in a practical sense.

Metro Centre

With today designated, within the half term week, as day out but heavy rain forecast for the afternoon, we took a pragmatic decision to motor up to the Metro Centre retail complex at Gateshead, where five hours can be spent without even seeing daylight never mind any rain, to do a bit of pre-Christmas window shopping pencilling in presents and fleshing out wish lists; mission was accomplished with even a few items bought, and tea at Frankie & Bennie's took us past the worst of the rush hour and all of the rain, making for a better than usual drive home.

Eyes Front

Some stiffness is to be expected after exercising, particularly following a bit of a lay-off, but it was not my legs, arms, back or shoulders that seized up but my neck - the result no doubt of staring up at the TV screen while using the gym equipment yesterday; the result today - an inability to look anywhere but straight ahead.

Pumping (Grid) Iron

My first proper session at the new gym was aided and abetted by one of the TV screens showing the NFL live from Wembley, the view being fine from the treadmill and the rower, but a bit skewed from the bicycle; the engrossing play helped to pass the time quickly and I even got home in time to see the last, exciting quarter wherein the result remained at issue to (and even beyond) the last kick of the game.

IT Unblogged

Our IT's resilience was seriously tested as, with the laptop in the shop for attention, the Hudl suddenly decided to display only a blank screen on Blogger, which left, as the only alternative, requisitioning the boy's laptop, prising the password out of him, and trying to navigate Windows 8; fixing the Hudl seemed easier and we eventually discovered the problem (Java script disabled) and, to everyone's relief, fixed it.

Leaving out the Expletive

Despite shunting a load of leaves down the road on Tuesday, more than enough remained to combine with reinforcements to impede getting the car completely onto the block paving, so I set to work with the rake, brush and grabber, creating a huge pile on the lawn to then stuff into five big bags for disposal; about forty-five minutes into the job my neighbour rapped on her front window to suggest I could clear her block paving as well and my reply got as far as mouthing an F before I spotted she was accompanied by her seven-year-old, causing me to bite off the end of my planned response.

Fargo

Finally, after a couple of restarts, I completed watching Fargo, serialised in ten parts on Channel 4 last April to June, and lurking with menace on the PVR over the summer awaiting its time, the dark evenings when my wife is out and there are no distractions, and each episode can be savoured (a week apart, I think gorging on several episodes at a sitting detracts from the pleasure); the plot was pleasingly complex, the performances of Billy Bob Thornton and Martin Freeman were characteristically excellent, as was that of Alison Holman (a new face to me), but every single character was beautifully written and played, and every scene was shot with cinematic style and panache - just brilliant.

Angles

A heavy session of lesson planning today finalised a set of tutor notes, resources and exercises covering all the angles - angles at a point, on a line, opposite, corresponding, alternate, interior, exterior, in triangles and in quadrilaterals; however I've a feeling tomorrow's learners will just be angling for regular breaks, as they tend more to the obtuse than the acute. 

Leaves Leaving

The windy remnants of Hurricane Gonzalo had, by mid-morning, piled leaves into foot high drifts in the sheltered spots at the front of the house, however with the wind still blowing strong I decided to use it to advantage and surreptitiously tried brushing a pile out of the shelter and into the jet stream blowing through the village; sure enough, half an hour later that pile had disappeared without trace, and a couple of repetitions later I had made quite a dent in the drifts, but my plan to complete the job under the cover of darkness failed as the wind dropped as night fell. 

Induction

As new members we got our gym induction tonight, consisting a tour of the various machines with brief demonstrations although we did not linger in the free weights area, presumably as our guide assumed it was not for us; this may have been due to our lack of tattoos and wife-beater vests (or muscles).

New Gym

We attended the Athletics Club presentation evening last night and to our surprise the boy not only picked up his AAA grade II and grade IV badges but also came away with the under-17 track performance of the year trophy (that we had only returned a week previously), but none of these achievements will make him reconsider his decision to quit the sport (at least temporarily) which only goes to suggest his success so far has been a triumph of natural ability over bone idleness; in an attempt to at least get him to do some exercise his mother and I looked at a newly-opened gym and were sufficiently impressed to sign up (him as well as us) in the hope that mutual encouragement and avoidance of shame will prove incentive enough for regular attendance.

Mowden Park

Another visit to the Darlington Arena, this time to see the big boys play rugby union, Mowden Park versus Hartpury College in National Division 1, watched on a pleasant afternoon by a pretty good crowd of a thousand or so providing a convivial atmosphere; it was a good open game with the visitors winning by the odd converted try in seven, thanks to more clinical finishing of their fewer opportunities, in contrast to Mowden Park who had too many handling errors, unlike one of their fans who managed to field a towering touch kick despite holding a beer in one hand – at a cost it has to be said of spilling most of it down his front.

Civic Civility

We visited the Darlington Civic Theatre tonight (a week after the Michael McIntyre rumpus) to see John Godber’s April in Paris’, a two-handed comedy with Joe McGann and Shobna Gulati playing a long-married and hard-up couple whose relationship comes under scrutiny before, during and after a free trip to Paris; an enjoyable evening with fine performances and plenty to laugh at in Godber’s script, the only disappointment being the half empty auditorium (but at least those present were well-behaved and the stars stayed on stage throughout).

Minus One

I am used to my disaffected young learners not turning up, arriving late, or leaving early, but not until today had I had one stolen; due to a mix-up another tutor had (she insisted) been assigned to one of my pair and she was determined to teach him something in the good ‘tutorial room’ (i.e. cupboard with a table and three chairs) leaving me with the other learner and the less good ‘tutorial room’ (i.e. cupboard with a table, two chairs, and a sink) where nevertheless I was able to impart crucial geometric knowledge for an hour before finishing off with several games of 3’s and 5’s dominos.

Darlington Arena

It was nearly three years ago that I was last in the Darlington Arena, at one of the many ‘last games’ before the football club’s demise and eviction, since when (after a decent interval) the stadium has been taken over by Mowden Park RUFC, and today they hosted a primary school tag rugby tournament in which my role was driving the minibus and cheering from the touchline as our school did brilliantly to finish runners-up; the stadium still looks good, if a little faded, particularly from the middle of the pitch, the main difference being that the turf and the posts have both grown to rugby, rather than football, length.

Routines

I like routine, especially in the morning when it defers the need for conscious thought for the best part of an hour as I go through my ablutions, get dressed, drink some orange juice, dry and put away last night’s pots, tend to the cats’ various needs, then get my own breakfast while reading the sports pages; and now that my work pattern is established I can similarly schedule the weekly chores and still have a couple of days designated to retirement activities – DIY Wednesday and Fun Day Tuesday – and although the today’s weather put me off going out and about, I did get to have a bit of a bake, producing two batches of scones: plain and cheese.

Eye-watering Teaching

Sometime during the speeches at yesterday’s Golden Wedding I wiped away a tear, which seemed odd as no one else was getting particularly emotional, and only one eye was in production; by today the left eye was leaking quite badly, along with its matching nostril (as if I had hay fever in just half my head), which interfered with my teaching, but fortunately only a bit as I mostly present my right profile to the class as I write on the flip chart.

Golden Wedding

A lovely sunny Sunday for my wife’s Aunt and Uncle to celebrate their Golden Wedding anniversary with family and friends at their home in rural North Yorkshire, augmented for the occasion by a marquee cunningly erected to extend the conservatory into the back garden, within which were tables laden with sandwiches, pastries and such an impressive array of home-made cakes that we may well have been in the Great British Bake Off tent – and although the quantity may have resembled the early rounds the quality was worthy of the final.

Seasonal Change

Today marked another milestone in the turning season; not the reversion to GMT due tonight, but the reversion to piping hot porridge as the breakfast of choice between now and spring.

Low Numbers

With my Friday morning maths class cancelled due to low numbers (very low numbers, in fact no numbers at all) the day was freed up to get quite a high number of jobs done, some household (washing & shopping), some clerical (filing & finance), and some personal (hair cut & library), but most important was reserving a table for two at The Tuns at Sadberge; it used to be the Three Tuns pub but now it too has lost its numbers in being transformed into a chic eatery that provided us, this evening, with an excellent meal.

Bin There, Not Done It

Refuse collection arrangements have changed for our village and today is the first bin day under the new regime that collects recyclables (black bin with green lid and green bottle box) and non-recyclables (black bin with black lid) on alternate weeks, starting today with recyclables, as indicated by the helpful calendar that I, if nobody else, found inside the new green-lidded bin; of course it is a bit of a shambles out there with various combinations of rubbish receptacles out at the roadside awaiting attention: no bin at all (the most popular option which could indicate most folk may not bother sorting out the recyclables and bung it all fortnightly in a black-lidded bin); the black-lidded bin (which they will have either have to drag back full or leave out for a week); the green-lidded bin (correct); and green bottle boxes with any of the above (that’s alright too) – the tension to see how the operatives would deal with it all rose through the afternoon, but remained unresolved as no bin wagon turned up anyway.

Well Baked

Future Wednesday night TV will be poorer following the conclusion of the Great British Bake Off which came to a fitting finale tonight; appropriately enough I produced one of my own signature dishes for tea, combining smoked cod loin, salmon and prawns in a fish pie, which despite being a bit oversize was still well and truly scoffed.

Fricassee

There was just the two of us in for tea tonight, providing an opportunity for culinary experimentation, and with a chicken breast, bacon, leeks, mushrooms and cream in the fridge, “fricassee” called out to me over the decades; my 1970’s cookbook’s recipe began by boiling a chicken, so I ignored it and busked my own version instead, with a very acceptable result.

Groceries

I was shocked at the supermarket check-out today as the operator calmly announced eighty-two pounds odd for my small trolley-load of shopping, and when I got home and looked at the unpacked groceries on the kitchen worktops I was even more appalled, until I realised there was still a large bag on the back seat of the car; I suppose the fact that I had bought too much to fit in the (admittedly small) Juke boot should provide some comfort.

Well Done

I assumed my role in baking the Christmas cake was completed once I had cut out the greaseproof paper to line the tin (I knew the formula for calculating the circumference from the diameter would come in handy one day) and washed up the sticky bowls and utensils, but no, apparently I had one further contribution to make, which was to let it burn while my wife was talking on the phone; it’s well done but still edible (not by me, I don’t even like Christmas cake) however not up to the Mary Berry standard required for the big day, so we’ll call it a prototype and have another go in a week or two. 

Picnic Bench

At Billingham Synthonia’s ground (venue for my FA Vase game today) refreshments are served from a window at the front of the cantilever stand, just a few yards from the team dug-outs, the proximity proving too convenient for the surplus players on the bench, a few of whom joined the queue for hot dogs, pies and chip at half time.

Quizmaster

I found myself on the other side of the quiz table tonight as I asked the questions for a change; it was also a change to know all the answers.

Marigolds

The bright yellow rubber gloves are an essential for a heavy duty washer-upper like me and although cheaper alternatives are available I find they soon succumb to a fork point or knife edge whereas the Marigolds tough it out longer; even with them, eventually, one hand or the other lets in water, but my tip is only throw away the glove that leaks and keep the sound one, then when one of the new pair fails you have a replacement ready (hopefully the hand you need, but if not (like tonight) just put it on back to front) to defer the expense of renewal for a while.

Manchester

Took a train trip to Manchester to see my Dad, inexpensive with the Trans Pennine Express Club 55 cheap ticket offer that got me to Victoria Station for £15, and between changing trains I spent an hour or two revisiting a few old haunts in the city and spotting a few new attractions, including the National Football Museum where I lunched on themed fare of pie and tea (what no Bovril!) and browsed the shop (nothing there as eye-catching as the goalmouth urinals in the gents) before catching a suburban train to my Dad’s; there they had the lawn mower ready and waiting for me, but that admittedly rare filial duty over, I was rewarded with coffee and homemade cake and we chatted until it was time for me to depart for my return trip home.