FA Trophy

The Trophy is the FA’s knock out tournament for the top end of the non-league pyramid and today’s first qualifying round pitted Darlington against Mossley, two teams that represent my current and (35 years) previous home towns; I have followed both teams to Wembley finals in this competition, Mossley in 1980 and Darlo in 2011, and today’s game, played in good spirit and (for once at Heritage Park) perfect conditions, mirrored the Wembley results – Darlington won and Mossley lost.

R and R

With my wife and son out, each pursuing their social life, I was left home alone (not unwillingly) to enjoy a bit of R and R - both rest and recuperation at the end of a busy half term holiday and, phonetically at least, reading and writing with a book finished and reviewed for the book blog and a match report finalised and posted on the football blog.

Credit Due

Some excitement today when my credit card company got in touch to check if I had suddenly attempted an out-of-character spending spree in the US that seemed to consist of pizzas, hotel rooms and on-line entertainment, but with my normal spending pattern being somewhat less exotic they were happy to accept my non-involvement, confirmed all transactions had been declined, said the account would be closed immediately and a new card issued within days; the RBS gets a lot of stick in the media but credit to them today for seeing off this attack.

Cats’ Chorus

When we are away the cats stay in very nice, exclusively feline, boarding accommodation but still, when picked up, voice their complaints loudly from the back of the car; and with two on board they coordinate their yowls and breathing most effectively to produce a sustained racket all the way home.

Time Travelling

Returned from Nottingham by sticking to the Great North Road in its alternating guises of A1 and A1(M), and though the journey seemed lengthy, and included a stop at Wetherby Services, I was shocked on arriving home and glancing at the mantelpiece clock to see nearly five hours had elapsed en route; then I realised that the household clocks were still on British Summer Time and I had in my own small way travelled back to the future.

Spectre

Went to see the newly released Bond movie with a mixture of anticipation and misgivings: anticipation driven by the media hype and heightened by a packed cinema where instead of the usual hushed murmuring during the adverts and 'coming soon' there was a rising babble of excited conversation; misgivings as to whether the stunts and shocks would outweigh any subtlety of plot, meaning and performance - Skyfall got it right, Spectre not so much.

Tapas

In Nottingham today to visit the younger daughter and her fiancé, and among the way-off wedding talk we dined at the Escabeche Tapas restaurant, covering the table with small dishes of excellent quality food that just kept coming as we all dipped into each other's choices - too many to mention but mine were a mushroom and pasta risoni, a seared salmon fillet with lime and coriander, and a fillet of Lamb served on a thin slice of aubergine.

Northumbria

Another Saturday morning, another university open day, this time Northumbria, based in Newcastle upon Tyne, where we found the City Campus had a good, vibrant feel to it; and of course the city has many attractions - the quayside, the theatre, galleries, shopping centre, and more dubiously the football club - all mirrored just over the river in Gateshead, including a football club playing poorly as I witnessed later watching them exit the FA Cup.

Stop Cock

While putting out the recycling this morning I fortunately ran into one of the boys from the black stuff who was taking up the masking tape used to get a protect the kerbstones and manhole covers from the tarmac slurry applied yesterday, so I was able to enquire about my now buried stop cock; he reckoned it was already uncovered but I knew better and after indicating the general area where I had last seen it, he was able to locate and pull up some more masking and reveal the unobtrusive metal plate under which that vital valve resides.

Daisy Chain

While scouring Stockton for upholsterers to renovate, or furnishers to replace, a couple of armchairs, comfy but battered by the cats’ claws and the boy’s bum, we called into the Daisy Chain Charity Superstore on Portrack Lane; it is a cavernous space but well laid out, with an interesting security system consisting a woman who challenges anyone who tries to leave without making a purchase – we mollified her by having cups of tea and bacon Panini in the pleasant café area, and by buying five paperback books for £2.

The Black Stuff

The village pavements are not paved at all, but smeared with tarmac slurry that after deteriorating alarmingly over the years is finally being relayed by two boys from the black stuff who arrived in a tar-splattered old lorry and who use what looks like an old road-sweeper’s cart to lay down the new surface; it may look tin pot but it seems effective as the sidewalks are steadily turning from shifting shades of grey to a firm and uniform black top.

All Change

My bank let me down today, unable to furnish my requested withdrawal of £60 in pound coins (needed to supply the boy’s daily dinner money for the next four weeks), their best efforts producing just £20 in two-pounders; I made the best of a bad job by then going into three shops and buying a £1 item (none superfluous to my needs) in each of them, so generating a bit more shrapnel for the dinner money tin.

Leaves

It has been a mild and, more relevantly, still autumn so far, which has kept the leaves where they look best – on the trees providing stunning displays of golden browns, oranges and reds that transform the roadsides of the most mundane industrial and housing estates into picturesque avenues; even better the same conditions have kept the leaves off my front lawn for the time being.

Top Rugby

On paper the second two quarter finals of the Rugby Union World Cup looked unlikely to be competitive but I thought I’d put the TV on and see how they went; they went very well providing a feast of open attacking rugby, with Argentina shocking Ireland by taking a substantial early lead, surviving a spirited comeback and then finishing with a flourish to win 43-20, while in the other game Scotland hung on to Australia’s coat tails before taking a late lead, only to lose 35-34 to a last minute, and dubious, penalty.

Material Girl

My wife likes little better than a good root around a fabric shop so news of a discount day sent her scurrying off to Leven Crafts in Guisborough for some bargain dress material, with my presence required to discuss the relative merits of the cloth on show; once in the shop, bolts were taken of shelves, unravelled, draped over shoulders, and found wanting in some aspect or another (in some promising cases it was the quantity that fell short) before finally a purchase was made enabling us to leave – after which the staff no doubt sighed with relief and began to put the premises back into some sort of order.

Community Centre

My tutoring takes place in a community centre, and the community it is in the centre of is a challenging (or challenged) one, as illustrated this morning when just outside my tutorial room (aka a cupboard) there was a commotion with a man demanding the primary school give him his kids (now!) to take away as they had allegedly suffered some sort of violence or intimidation; meanwhile in the adjacent meeting room an old chap was complaining about many things including abusive girls and knife-wielding boys, but why he was telling this to the man from the credit union is a bit of a mystery – perhaps he wanted a loan to buy a shotgun or was coming up with an excuse for his arrears.

Personal Statement

Provided some editorial assistance to the boy in completing the first draft of his personal statement which forms part of his university application, working to get some structure in and some spurious detail out; the actual content is, I think, encouragingly relevant to the course applied for, mainly due to several years of parental cajoling (i.e. bribes and threats) to get involved in competitions, courses, casual employment and volunteering activity.

Hobgoblin

The rhythm of the week has developed a small but significant element that on a Wednesday fills the lacuna between returning the minibus to school at four-thirty and getting my lift home at five; the half hour is just sufficient time to pop into the village pub and enjoy half a pint of Hobgoblin ale, a packet of flame grilled steak crisps, and read a chapter or so on the Kindle.

Spilt Milk

The top of the two litre milk container has embossed upon it ‘store upright when opened’ so I did, only to discover it sometime later sat in a pool of the old cow juice that had seeped out of a hole in one side; I decanted what I could fit into a jug, mopped up the mess and then, screwing the lid on tight, returned the container to the fridge in its pre-opened, non-leaking, non-upright orientation.

Opera House Dash

More through another’s misguided generosity than our own design we had tickets for the Monday night show at the Grand Opera House in York, necessitating a fifty mile drive down the A19 after work, a ten minute scamper across the city from the car park, a sixty second decision on a Tex-Mex menu, an anxious forty minute wait for the chicken fajitas and a ‘prairie’ burger to arrive, and a ten minute wolfing down of the same when it did, all of which enabled us to then stroll into the adjacent theatre foyer as the three minute bell sounded; once in our seats the non-stop action shifted to the stage with an energetic performance of Jesus Christ Superstar - great words and music of course but the quality of singing was variable on the night, both from the cast (apart from Mary Magdalene who was spot on throughout) and me in the car on the long drive home.

Sound Investment

After about a year’s umming and ahrring about the value of getting a sound bar for the TV to improve the acoustic quality from rubbish (somewhat inevitable when the speakers point backwards out of the rear of the flat screen job) to somewhere on the scale between acceptable and better than my ears can appreciate, I today bought one in Tesco that had three things going for it: made by Goodmans, which used to be a decent brand back in the old hi-fi days; inexpensive, supposedly half price at £50; and not too wide – most I have seen previously would have stuck out about a foot each side of the TV.

Bay Watch

Such is the cleverly named and well produced match-day programme of Whitley Bay FC, purchased today while attending their FA Cup third qualifying round game against Chorley FC, and it provides good value at £1.50 with its 36 pages containing plenty of reading, photos, statistics and even a half time quiz; watching the Bay proved good value too (£5 for a senior) as they gave as good as they got against their higher league opponents, producing a cracking cup tie before losing by the odd goal in five in front of 782 vociferous spectators – which in non-league terms almost constituted a crowd.

St Cuthbert's Way II

Starting where we left off yesterday, on a cloudier but still fine day, we were soon back on the banks of the Tweed, then Jedwater, before climbing up and over Cessford Moor to end up at our Inn in Morebattle, completing another ten mile leg.

Company Dinner

The walk worked up an appetite in us all, even the non-walking (knees even dodgier than mine) guest for the evening who, as ever, gave impetus to the flagging group; the dinner provided tasty food, good beer, lively conversation, and just great company to keep.

St Cuthbert's Way I

With, or despite, a combined wisdom in excess of three centuries, the five of us set off walking from Newtown St Boswells and soon reached the River Tweed, where the blue sky and bright sunshine brought out the stunning autumn colours of the tree-lined banks, with us until lunch (taken on a weir at the Mertoun Bridge); from there it was up a section of Dere Street past Lilliard's stone (commemorating a Scots heroine who fought and fell bravely hereabouts) and on to the Harestanes visitor centre, completing the ten mile leg, crucially just minutes before the tea shop there closed for the day.

Templehall Inn

Breaking our journey north up the A68 at the point where it crosses the line of Hadrian's Wall for a meal at the Errington Arms (last visited when we walked the wall) we arrived in Morebattle about nine-thirty and entered the bar of the Templehall Inn where we were greeted like long lost friends, not only by our long lost friend Dave but also by the few locals enjoying a drink therein.

Happy Dentist

I may be cynical but I thought what made a dentist happy was the prospect of a complicated and expensive intervention, however today my chap was happy that I needed no more than a quick scrape between the lower front teeth; as for me, I was ecstatic.

Key Issues

The first key problem arose when a neighbour locked herself out of the house (been there, done that, never again had a Yale lock on the front door), which we overcame via my ladders but thankfully someone else to climb up them and squeeze through the bathroom window; the second problem was a less dramatic but equally classic missing key scenario – that on, or rather not on, a tin of corned beef, but I remedied that one without assistance other than a pair of pliers and so was able to prepare, as planned, a rather good corned beef, potato, sweet corn and cheese (just a bit) pie for tea.

World Cup Exit

Yesterday’s packed schedule - university open day, FA Vase second qualifying round tie, and first cricket club quiz of the season – squeezed out the Rugby Union World Cup, including the crunch match between England and Australia, so it was lunchtime today before I steeled myself and turned on the recording to watch the not unexpected exit of the national team from the competition; the consolation is that when hope is extinguished, peace of mind follows.

Sunderland University

Today’s university open day was at Sunderland, at less than an hour’s drive away easily the closest contender for some student loan company cash, where a well organised event enabled us to check out the St Peter’s Campus next to the National Glass Museum and the more central City Campus, the latter housing some impressive sports science equipment; we each got involved in the demonstrations there, testing my coordination (not bad for an old ‘un), my wife’s balance (pretty good walking backwards in heels) and the force of the boy’ s left jab (definitely sufficient, as my dad would say, to knock the skin off a rice pudding).

PS4

I bought a Play Station 4 today, or at least I had to be present in the shop since the boy (not quite 18) was under age for some of the trade-in games; I passed that test by some margin and fortunately there was no test of competence on a console as I struggle even to turn it off when necessary - usually as part of my late night sweep of the house knocking off all the electronic gadgets and gizmos left on standby.

Roamers’ Logistics

Having settled on the walk route yesterday, today’ planning had a focus on logistics, coordinating the arrivals and departures of the diaspora of the Lloyd George House “class of 75” (yes it is 40 years since we departed that student house in Edinburgh; as well as working out how many cars we need to leave at the start and end points, I thought it prudent to identify a few “escape points” at which the way crosses A or B roads from where, if necessary, strugglers (possibly me) can just phone a taxi.