Locals

A short trip to the travel agents in Sedgefield to pick up our travel money was elongated by tea, coffee and excellent cakes in Aubergine, our local café / bistro / teashop of choice; local is the key word as tea shops are rapidly becoming replacing pubs as the main socialising venue – opening and filling up as quickly as the pubs are emptying and closing down – with the current score in Sedgefield being Pubs 5 Teashops 3.

Five go to Saltburn Pier

Today’s choice of a family outing was the charming resort of Saltburn, just a half hour’s drive away, where we followed a familiar routine: a walk through the park to the sea front; purchase of top quality fish and chips to eat on the pier; a long stroll down the beach and back; coffee at a tucked away café with views of the headland; and a ride up the funicular railway to get back to the car – a pleasant three hours in improving weather as summer made a brief return after a few days of rain.

Welcome Home Cooking

Both my grown-up girls arrived back home for a rare full family reunion, marked appropriately by the ceremonial cooking of a traditional family favourite meal of lasagne –minced beef, tomato and mushroom layered with pasta and béchamel sauce and topped with toasted cheese – my wife’s signature dish to which my contribution is only buying the ingredients and washing up the dishes.

Cycles

Reflected on the cyclic nature of regular events in my humdrum existence as three were aligned today, a bit like the Earth, Moon and Sun during an eclipse, as my cats had their annual trip to the vets for their jabs, my library books had their three-weekly change at the mobile library, and my hair had its two-monthly trim at the barbers; so it was a day of comings and goings with books, with more pages read waiting at the vets and barbers than browsed in the library.

Monday Lunch

Arranging an irregular get-together lunch with a couple of ex-colleagues on a Monday was always potentially problematic with many hostelries choosing that quietest of trading days to give the chef the day off, consequently having met at one firmly shut pub we then had to trawl through a few North Yorkshire villages without success before reaching the more cosmopolitan market town of Stokesley, and happily ended up at Howards bistro where we enjoyed an excellent couple of courses – for me a delicious chicken and chorizo tagliatelle followed by a tasty gooseberry and toffee apple tart – while putting the world to rights.

New Shoes, Old Songs

On a Sunday shop in Darlington my immediate needs were met within minutes with the purchase of new Karrimor trainers to replace my current worn out pair then, at a loose end while my wife completed her rounds, I popped into HMV for a rare mooch and came out with a couple of CDs for the car: one an old Paul Simon album (There Goes Rhymin’ Simon) that I had on vinyl but had never previously seen on CD and whose tracks are routinely but unjustly omitted from any of his compilations; the other, a best of Bill Withers album including timeless classics such as Ain’t No Sunshine, Lovely Day, Lean on Me and Just the two of Us – so pity anyone sharing the car with me for the next few days.

Crafty Castle

Accompanied my wife to Brancepeth Castle where about seventy craft stalls competed for our custom, most displaying ingenious ways of combining wood, metal, coloured glass, wool and other natural materials, but it wasn’t the ornamental that secured our cash, rather the epicurean as we supported the economy of England’s northernmost county with eponymous purchases from the Northumberland Cheese Company and the Northumberland Sausage Company; as for the castle – the massive gatehouse towers and intact curtain wall are impressive but are not matched by the rather shabby interior. 

Varnishing Act

Some years ago I was instrumental in the transfer of an individually crafted storytelling chair from a nursery that was closing (I was instrumental in that too) to the primary school where my wife works and, as with assets donated to the National trust, I seem now have the responsibility to maintain it for life; so today, with the children safely off for the summer, it was over to school to give it a rub down and a coat of yacht varnish that should see it through for a few more years.

Top Doc

Late night channel surfing enabled me to catch on BBC2 the second part of David Olusoga’s documentary ‘Britain’s Forgotten Slave Owners’, the first part of which I had similarly stumbled upon last Thursday; I thought I had a thorough knowledge of our country’s involvement in the slave trade and its abolition through reading such as Simon Schama’s ‘Rough Crossing’, but this revelation of the crucial part financial compensation to the owners played in facilitating the abolition was riveting and instructive on so many levels – and as usual after such programmes I ask myself why I don’t watch more TV like this.

Forint Currency

A quiet day, the highlight of which was picking up our tickets for Budapest and working out how many hundreds of thousands of Hungarian Forints we are likely to spend during our five day stay.

L Plates On

Having got the Fiesta home yesterday, today the boy put on the L plates and hit the road with me riding shotgun; helpfully we did not hit anything else as he proved quite competent behind the wheel, thanks to the professional instruction received to date.

Last Car, First Car

My dad is eighty-nine with a gammy leg and a twelve year-old Ford Fiesta that he can no longer drive, and my son is seventeen, learning to drive and more keen to practice in my car than I am willing to risk, so one solution, happily embraced by both parties, was to transfer the said Fiesta across a couple of generations, so today the boy and I took the train down to Manchester and my dad handed his last car over to be his grandson’s first; my role (middle man in more ways than one) was to arrange the tax and insurance, do the necessary DVLC paperwork, bump start the flat-batteried vehicle, and do the two hour drive back home. 

Deck Chairs

We went to the Garden Centre to buy plants not seats but the half price offer on some stylish tubular steel and sky blue canvas deck chairs was too good to miss so we loaded three on to the trolley and headed for the tills, where the problems began: first the checkout lady couldn’t find the barcode and so called the supervisor; she looked up and called out random numbers with no success until we finally spotted a sticker on one of the chair legs that contained the magic sequence; I then pointed out that the total demanded (£101) was roughly twice what I was expecting to pay and suggested that maybe the 50% discount had not been applied; the staff conferred and another code was unearthed and fed into the till, reducing the total to £86; I said that was a start but how about reducing all three chairs rather than just the one; a further staff conference concluded the only way to that was to buy each chair separately, and by now I was ready to accept anything that would conclude the matter so dutifully fed my card and PIN in three times and left with several feet of receipts; but hopes of conclusion turned out to be premature as back home, now in need of a sit down, I erected the chairs only to find one faulty - so it was straight back to the Garden Centre where the staff unsurprisingly recognised me and effected an exchange without quibble.

Summer Fair

Strolled over to the village school summer fair mainly to raid the cake stall; six years ago, and for the six years previous, our house, garden and barn would by now be filled with the aftermath of the event: hastily dismantled paraphernalia (gazebos, coconut shy, paddling pool, hooks and ducks); left over and un-saleable items (toys, books, sweets, bread and burgers); bedraggled banners, bunting and signage; and of course ice-cream tubs full of notes, coins and yet more coins to count, bag and bank – but today the only space put under pressure was the cake cupboard.

Re-cyclone-ing Day

When, like today, the wind blows hard on recycling day in the village the combination of inherently unstable containers (heavy waste paper hopper perched on top of a bin containing weightless cans and plastic, left on a grassy down-sloping green) and some residents being none too scrupulous in their rubbish management tends to produces a high street strewn with paper, some of which ends up decorating our frontage; as I gathered it up, most of it seemed to be a young neighbour’s promptly discarded schoolwork so I was tempted to mark it and hand it back along with a detention for littering.

Journeys End

Today saw my final minibus trip of the academic year with a series of shuttle runs to the town sports complex; over the year I was not called upon often but, as to be expected, in the final weeks of term I was in demand as class outings and sports events took place, and the burst of activity boosted my confidence sufficiently to successfully attempt some nifty reversing around various car parks – I only hope I can still have the knack after the holidays.

Budapest Booked

For me, ‘booking’ a holiday involves more than selecting a destination, picking a hotel and securing the flights – all that was done a week ago – or buying the guide book – the DK Eyewitness guide to Budapest was purchased last Saturday – the tricky bit is choosing the right reading book to take along, which not only has to while away the travelling time but also be a good match for the location, but today I found ‘They Were Counted’ by Miklos Banffy, 600+ pages and apparently a Hungarian classic set during the latter part of the nineteenth century, described as a cross between Tolstoy and Trollope (what’s not to like); it is also book one of a trilogy so I may need a couple more visits to Budapest to complete the saga.

Old Boiler

I tend to think of my oil central heating boiler as new, it having replaced the ancient one in place when we bought the house, but in reality, twelve years on, it is old and now subject to periodic malfunction, and having leaked oil in May it yesterday suffered another bout of incontinence, this time leaving a damp patch on the carpet caused by escaping water; today our local plumber / heating engineer delivered his verdict – a new washer needed in the flow control assembly, but of course you can’t just buy the uniquely shaped washer, you have to buy a whole new assembly for £85. 

TV Adaptations

There is always a worry that a TV adaptation of a favoured book may not only disappoint but somehow taint the enjoyment of the original work, and the more the book was enjoyed the greater the worry, which is probably why I delayed watching the recording of Iain Banks’ Stonemouth, but tonight I took the plunge and fortunately found the BBC production good enough to bring back to mind (if not, due to time constraints, fully replicate) the excellence of the book; similarly spot-on was last night’s initial episode of Sadie Jones’ dark novel The Outcast, which I did watch as broadcast, perhaps reflecting a lower level of attachment to the book.

Caramel Shortbread

With the parents-in-law over for Sunday lunch we pushed the boat out and not only prepared a roast beef dinner but also two desserts – a strawberry trifle and some caramel shortbread – and with the latter reluctant to set my wife shoved it into the fridge where it lay in wait; sure enough as I reached in for a beer it slid down my arms and was saved from destruction only by a reflex grab, at the expense of a very sticky right thumb and forefinger, easily licked clean – not so the later discovered sticky elbow that, despite contortions with my arm and tongue, I had to give up on and rinse off under the tap.

Mass Dance

My wife’s involvement in the annual mass dance in Darlington meant a trip into town and, with a few hours to spare between my daughter’s Specsavers appointment and the scheduled start, it was inevitable that shops would be visited, bargains bought, and carrier bags accumulated, which were then passed to me (along with a handbag) to mind during the performance; so by the time the purple T-shirted masses began to dance my less than perfect view was from a nearby bench where I looked more like a bag lady than an interested spectator. 

Split Shift

Split shifts are not generally popular as they take up a full day but only provide half a day’s pay, but sometimes they work out well, as in my driving assignments today and yesterday: a lift into school with my wife to pick up the minibus; shift one completed by ten o’clock with the bus parked near home; a few hours free to get stuff done – food shopping today, course work yesterday; back on shift at two; finished and parked up at school by quarter to four; and time for an outdoor pint at the pub on the village green before my lift back home.

Late Learner

My open-access on-line course (Football: More Than a Game) issues a new unit each week, but although Week 3 was posted on Monday, today I was just starting Week 2; being tardy for an Edinburgh University lecture is not a new experience for me, but nine days late is definitely a record.

Notable Performances

To Wimbledon and the Tour de France was today added the opening of the Ashes Test Match series, providing a wealth of TV sport and some notable British performances – Andy Murray progressing to the semi-finals of the men’s singles, Mark Cavendish prominent if not ultimately successful in the sprint finish at Amiens, and Joe Root hitting a fine 134 against the Australians; another noteworthy (if not so headline-grabbing) performance was my return to the gym after a three month absence due to injury and then idleness, which felt good (the return that is, not the idleness).

Quiz Win

A rare win for our pub quiz team at the Vane Arms tonight, the core players supplemented by the elder daughter whose contribution to the general knowledge round was considerable, in contrast to her input to the 1970’s music round for which she was born a couple of decades too late; not so the rest of us and a “ditloids” round instead of photos also played to our strength enabling the Tip Toers to stride, for once, to a comfortable victory.

Spec Savours

Choosing your own new spectacle frames is difficult mainly because of the blurred image in the mirror resulting from the lack of the usual corrective lenses in the samples tried on, so the sensible thing is to take a friend, or in my daughter’s case today, a father; it took us about twenty minutes to concur on a couple of frames – it would have been just ten if not for that pesky ‘buy one get one free’ offer.

Tour de France

Day two of the 2015 Tour and in contrast to last year when I was live on the climb of Grinton Moor, today it was a case of watching the TV highlights with the highest elevation on the stage being the speed bumps just outside Utrecht.

Barbecue

A rare coincidence of a fine weather forecast and the full family in residence led to the first barbecue in a couple of years, and after some maintenance and cleaning the rickety old appliance was wheeled out, filled with charcoal briquettes, spread liberally with old lighting gel, and ignited, and ignited, and ignited, until (getting impatient and hungry) I reverted to the old fashioned but effective rolled up newspaper and wood kindling to get the charcoal going; soon enough the coals were turning grey and giving off a fierce heat sufficient to burn a neglected sausage in a couple of minutes, but with care nicely cooked off minute steaks, burgers, Chinese chicken thighs and garlic chicken wings, appreciatively consumed with the bread, potatoes, coleslaw and salad.

No Fatted Calf

The younger daughter is no prodigal, nor clearly a son, but her infrequent visits do occasion the laying on of some favourite meals, tonight chorizo and butternut squash risotto, and the laying in of some favourite provisions such as croissants, however I was unable to supply her first two preferences for a drink with her evening meal as the Budweiser lake created at Christmas had finally run dry and the dusty bottle of red wine dated 2002 proved to be just old rather than vintage; fortunately the cold Prosecco in the fridge proved very acceptable in their stead.

Mini-beasts

Today’s school trip to Saltholme nature reserve involved mini-beasts, not the class of five and six year-olds on the minibus, who were well behaved throughout, but the small creatures they netted either from the hedgerows or the pond, the study of which increased my knowledge of spiders, bugs, beetles, blood worms, damsel-fly larvae, water boatmen and pond skaters from little to still not very much; however the techniques learnt came in useful tonight as the cats were leaping around the living-room after a moth, enabling me to effect a capture and safe release back into the wild (the moth not the cats).

Thunderstorm

Driving through torrential rain while lightening forks flash in front of the windscreen to simultaneous claps of thunder is rarely fun, and certainly not when, as today, there are sixteen eight-year-olds in the back of your minibus, who exhibit mild panic when the bus encounters speed bumps, and reacted proportionately to the genuinely frightening conditions we were driving through; fortunately as the storm abated they too calmed down, helped no doubt by their driver who gave a convincing (to them if not himself) performance of being unfazed by it all.