Un-joinery

It appears the filler I removed from the newly installed doorframe (see 21 June) was integral in holding the architrave in place down the right hand side of the doorway, and once loosened it became apparent that it had been ineffectively nailed to the thickly plastered wall rather than the wooden structure of the door frame; it clearly needs removing and moving a couple of inches to the left (requiring also the trimming back of the mitred architrave at the top) which will no doubt prove easier said than done – and it will be done by me as my faith in the joiner has fast disappeared. 

Help the Aged

It being Wednesday, and being in need of some DIY gear, I along with other purveyors of the grey pound headed for B&Q to take advantage of their weekly over-60’s discount day; one wonders if the staffing that day is increased, not around the aisles where most of us know exactly what we want and where to find it, but at the self-service tills which for the day become assisted service, with fresh-faced youngsters of forty or fifty hovering, keen to intervene at the slightest hesitation with a bewildering display of touch-screen dexterity.

Pants

With wet weather promised for the afternoon my daughter and I shelved plans for a walk and instead ticked a few household and garden tasks off the to do list, while also ensuring we would be in to receive an important postal delivery, time-critical as the contents were needed for an event tomorrow; the event is a sixties themed celebration at my wife’s school and the item awaited was a pair of pants of that era, which, on their arrival, did not disappoint in their orange and yellow psychedelic patterned and flared-from-the-knee designed magnificence.

Englout

After Brexit, Englout, as England went out of UEFA 2016, the second time in five days the country has quit Europe, but this time there was no ballot involved, just an abject performance against Iceland with the team voting ‘leave’ with their inept feet; in an inevitable echoing footnote, just as Brexit did for Cameron, so Englout did for Hodgson, with the England manager resigning before the players were out of the bath.

Bike Race

The British Cycling National Road Race Championships took place in Stockton-On-Tees today and with the course passing only a couple of miles from the house we took a short walk to a suitable vantage point and enjoyed the spectacle of forty or so elite riders hurtle past at impressive speed on what was an uphill section of the circuit; it was hard to spot individuals, but somewhere in there was Mark Cavendish, the Manx Missile, who eventually finished second, pipped at the line by Adam Blythe.

Saltburn

To lift the Brexit gloom we spent a few hours in sunny Saltburn doing what you have to do there – a walk along the beach (clean due to EU initiatives), a meal of fish and chips (cod still available due to EU sustainable fishing policies) and a mooch in the shops (cheap English strawberries picked by those nice Polish folk) – but with the added attraction of a new crazy-golf course on the prom; scores (for the nine holes) ranged from 35 to 23 (guess who) with a couple of holes in one and a few shots that ended up in the gravel landscaping.

Brexit

As I went to bed at about 3 a.m. the writing was on the wall and getting up three hours later I found the people had spoken - not only spoken but acted – unfortunately rather like a sulky teenager determined to react against the admittedly overstated advice of the grown-up establishment to be sensible, and instead raise two fingers to them, demanding “it’s my life (country) and Uncle Nigel says I can do what I like with it”; although understanding the frustration of many worn down by austerity while seeing a privileged class (many perceived to be foreigners) lording it with a loads-a-money lifestyle, I do not think leaving the EU is likely to be the solution, but I suppose 52% of the nation will be happy now the world is shut out (a bit like the teenager slamming the bedroom door) and will expect the same politicians, business leaders and bureaucrats, whose advice they dismissed, to sort out the mess created.

Vot-IN-g

My son’s first ever vote will be important as the country decides on continued membership of the European Union, and with my daughter ensuring she was home to make her vote count too, it was as a family we trooped to the village hall to cast our ballots; hopefully the family that votes together remains (rather than leaves) together.

Last Sixteen

The group stage of EUFA 2016 came to an exciting climax with the qualifiers in groups E and F being determined, and as is the norm in the tournament it was late goals from Ireland and Belgium that settled their progress from group E this afternoon; meanwhile this evening Portugal kept pace with Hungary and looked content with a draw that seemed destined to secure them a match against England in the last sixteen (whereas a win would see them face a more fearsome Belgium) only to find a late Iceland winner against Austria scuppered the plan, pinched the England tie, and condemned them instead to a tough match against the impressive Croatia.

Joinery

Over the years we have striven to get the woodwork in the house – skirting boards, door frames and window sills - back to the natural wood, spending hours with sandpaper, scrapers, power sanders, Nitromors and even a blow torch to get the desired effect, but one door frame proved resistant to them all, retaining flecks of white and green in crevices impervious to all efforts and resulting in today’s final solution – to rip it out and replace with new wood; clearly a job for a professional and the lad who came made a decent fist of it despite the difficulties posed by the wonky old walls, but he did fill in even the smallest gaps, and the sunken nail heads, with white filler, fine if the frame is to be painted but unhelpful when aiming for a  natural wood effect and it meant I had to spend a couple of hours picking it all out so it can be replaced by a more sympathetic compound. 

The Train Takes the Strain

A trip to Salford and back in a day to tidy up some of my dad’s pension paperwork was undertaken by train, actually five trains in all, and coincidentally using five different stations – Darlington, Manchester Victoria, Walkden, Stalybridge and York; remarkably the trains were all (near as dammit) on time, seats were available, and connections were timely and effective, so it all went very well, enabling me to, as the old slogan used to proclaim, let the train take the strain.

Expansive Presents

Variously, on Fathers’ Day, from my three offspring: two cards, two phone calls, two promises of treats to come when my daughters next visit, and as for material gains on the day (though immaterial) - my son bought me a pair of braces to help keep my trousers over my expanding stomach, and a pint down the pub to help keep my stomach expanding.

Sitting Comfortably

I joined my wife on an expedition to Northallerton to buy new seat-pads for the dining chairs, and though the choice of design was made quickly the quantity was up for debate; there are only three of us permanently (down to two in September), but when the girls are home at the same time it would be five, or six with a fiancé, up to seven with a girlfriend, and with the in-laws at Christmas it could go up to ten (forget feeding the five thousand, its seating them comfortably on matching cushions that counts); however the decision was eventually made for us, with the shop having only six in stock.

Scalped

In answer to the standard question from the hairdresser, I replied “nice and short ready for all the warm weather we are going to get during summer”; failing to recognize the sarcasm in my voice she took me at my word ad promptly scalped me. 

Goal Reversal

Having been pegged back to a draw by a last gasp Russian goal in their opening game, England scored an equally late winner this afternoon against Wales; that the three points were well deserved by the second half performance was clear even to the relatively impartial Scotsman with whom I watched the match on TV.

Mortar Bored

The re-pointing of my garden wall continues in desultory fashion by hour long the sessions - just long enough to tidy up the raked out gaps, mix the mortar, apply it around a score or so bricks, and tidy it all away; any longer and boredom sets in, concentration falters and my hands seize up, but the upside is that I can get it done between the UEFA 2016 matches with the afternoon game ending about four o’clock and the tea-time game kicking off at five.

Upstart Crow

Ben Elton’s Blackadder-esque take on the trials and tribulations of William Shakespeare, played by David Mitchell, ended its six-part run last night and this morning got a poor review from the critic in the i, citing for example ‘lumpen allusions to the plays’ and some unimaginative ‘women are from Venus, men are from Mars’ gags; I have to disagree as I found the references to the plays clever and amusing (maybe because for those of us with little more than a working knowledge of the bard’s works, lumpen works fine) and the thought the translation of modern gender stereotyping back to the sixteenth century (where it better belongs) quite appropriate, with the ‘outing’ of the girl, pretending to be a boy so she can be an actor portraying a girl, through her packed lunch of a dainty salad being spot on.

Have Bus Pass Will Travel

Those who use their free passes on the weekly bus from the local villages to town each Monday are not so much passengers as members of a travel club, to the extent that if a regular is absent, questions are asked; this morning the driver noticed someone missing and asked “Where’s Pat”, receiving a chorused reply “in Dubai” – which generated visions in my head of her flashing her bus pass as she boarded an Emirates flight or a Dubai water bus.

On the Third Day

On the third day of the UEFA tournament I began to ease back from the football - game one provided a backdrop to an ironing session, game two, the soundtrack to preparing and cooking tea, and the final game was turned on at about half time; but I still managed to see the assist of the day – Ozil’s centre for Schwiensteiger’s goal – and the goal of the day – Modric’s dipper for Croatia.

Shot Luck

Today’s three match TV binge included Wales’ win over Slovakia and England’s draw with Russia and was instructive on how much luck (normally relating to a deflection or a decision) plays a part in football - the relative scarcity of scoring means that in any one game a slice of fortune, good or ill, can be decisive - contributing greatly to its peculiar attraction, producing frustratingly and delightfully unpredictable results; while, for England, Lallana’s and Rooney’s sweetly hit volleys arrowed straight into the goalkeeper’s midriff, Welsh goals came from a scuffed finish from Robson-Kanu and a free kick from Bale that would have also found the keeper’s stomach had he not inexplicably moved out of its way.

UEFA 2016 Tactics

Installed myself on the sofa to watch the first match of the UEFA 2016 tournament, a win for the home nation France, and worked out my strategy to best enjoy the remaining 51 games over the next four weeks – it’s a marathon not a sprint so there is a need to pace oneself; the plan is to get well immersed this weekend (home alone so no competing activities), coast through the group stages on one live game a day plus highlights, although I may take in a radio commentary while engaged in other tasks, which should leave me fresh to enjoy live most of the games from the knock out stage.

Good Sports

I have been attending the Town School Sports in one capacity or another for about a dozen years, over which time the organisation has improved from inept, through chaotic to the now merely inefficient; however the important thing is that on a warm, sunny day 250 kids had a good time getting plenty of fresh air and exercise, learning how to win and just as important, learning how to lose.

Three Quarter Term

Following half term both my learners, one private and one public funded, missed their sessions last night and this morning, the former by agreement and the latter my just not turning up, making the break more of a three-quarter than a half term.

Appointment with Fear

I used to be terrified of going to the dentist, now I am merely apprehensive, or maybe not even that judging from today when, despite an imminent appointment, I was relaxed enough to doze off in my armchair, waking up twenty minutes before my due time still a twenty minute drive from the surgery, which with the intervention of road-works and a tractor meant I was a good ten minutes late arriving; unfortunately the dentist still let me in, but so as not to inconvenience the next patients he did the bare minimum of a scrape around with a pointy stick and a quick whizz with the drill – could be a tactic I adopt for next year too.

Wall-less Chart

With the Euro 2016 tournament starting at the end of the week, today’s key task was to draw up the competition tracking sheet that obviates the need to use one of the wall charts provided in, for example, the Radio Times, the display of which my spouse would not approve (even if affixed over the section of wall in need of re-plastering); my design fits instead onto two sides of the A4 notebook I use to monitor such sporting events, which is due for some heavy duty page-filling over the summer with the Euros, Tour de France, and Olympics providing a continuous festival of TV sport for the next ten weeks.

Sunny Sunday

For once a Sunday with weather warm and sunny that demanded, once essential chores were completed, no more than I sit in the garden and enjoy it; so it was out with the deck chairs, on with the baseball cap, and up with the feet for an afternoon of complete and utter relaxation.

Carlisle

To return home from Hawick we took the western route – A7, M6, A66 – to take advantage of the sunnier weather forecast and to enable a stop-off in Carlisle, fast becoming a favourite city visit with its compact centre having a good mix of both national chain stores and small independent traders, like the coffee shop where we had our daily scone and the second-hand bookshop that, for once, I left empty-handed.

Abbotsford

Visited Abbotsford, the towered and crenelated home of Sir Walter Scott, built to the author’s specifications and furnished to his tastes - mainly books, weaponry and other (Scottish) historical artefacts – and set in grounds he also designed, including walled gardens and terraces overlooking the River Tweed; after the audio-guided tour we repaired to the large but surprisingly unobtrusive visitor centre, and sitting in the sunshine on the tree-level terrace took refreshment and admired his choice of the sheltered and tranquil location.

Mansfield House Hotel

We headed up the A68, the initially grey skies turning to blue as we crossed into the Scottish Borders, to reach the elevated Mansfield House Hotel on the outskirts of Hawick, where we settled into a spacious room boasting a four poster bed and more oak furniture than your average baronial hall; after a walk into town and back we spent a pleasant hour on the sunny terrace with our drinks and books before enjoying a hearty evening meal that had as its centrepiece a fine roast rib of beef.

Brick Walls

I have spent a lot of time recently staring closely at my eight foot tall garden wall, first chipping off and raking out old mortar, then making a start on re-pointing, but I took time off today and this afternoon nipped into Sedgefield to treat my wife to a cup of coffee and some cake at the Aubergine Café, where I sat down and gazed first into her eyes and then behind her head at the brick patterned wallpaper that seemed mockingly familiar.