Saltburn Food Festival

Enjoyed our first visit to the Saltburn Food Festival, in weather conducive to browsing the outdoor event but which also led to full car parks and congested stalls, especially those selling street food ready to eat, however we found an alternative in the ‘Real Meals’ delicatessen where a table for two was available and the real meals on offer included for me a tasty ploughman’s lunch and an well-made (for once) iced coffee; sat among the deli shelves we also had time to spot some promising fare and by the time we left the shop we had doubled our shopping haul.

1966 And All That

Fifty years ago today I watched on TV as England won the FIFA World Cup final, and to commemorate that event BBC Radio 2 broadcast a show “World Cup 66: Minute by Minute” to cover the period, 2:50 to 4:30, that the game lasted incorporating both events in the stadium and around the country, as weddings, bus journeys, even putting out a fire played second fiddle to events at Wembley; I missed the transmission but stumbled over a televised version on the red button late tonight and was enthralled, even moved, by the recollections, testimonies, footage, interspersed by live performances of music of the day.

Summer Sound Smugglers

Along with three other couples we travelled by minibus to Guisborough Priory for the Summer Sounds 80’s Night and as we queued to get in, well prepared we thought for the outdoor event with warm clothes, rain capes, camping chairs, picnic and bottles of wine and beer, we were rocked back on our heels by one of the gate staff walking the line and bellowing out “no bottles & no glassware allowed in the venue”; wanting neither to abandon nor instantly swallow our liquor, we opted to smuggle it in (it is surprising how many bottles of booze can be squeezed into the camping chair bag along with the seat) and happily we managed to avoid detection and were able to enjoy a night of tribute bands – Abba, Boy George, Wham and Blondie – and drink our illicit contraband.

Sporting Gap

On a quiet day I had time to bemoan what is a gap in this summer of televised sport, with the Euros long gone, the Tour de France over, a gap between test matches, and still ten days to go before the start of both the Olympics and the new football season; therefore it was probably a good time to crack on with those DIY jobs and so I applied the final skim of plaster around the new doorframe and slapped another bucket of mortar between the bricks in the garden wall.

Preston Park

The regular exercise imperative and the sunny weather drew us out to Preston Park in Stockton from where we walked a few miles along the river before returning to pay a nominal fee to visit the museum, with its Victorian street and splendidly productive walled garden; there have been a few developments to the park since we were regular visitors with our children – the saplings planted by my young daughters are now tall trees, the toddlers’ play area they loved is now a skate park, and the main playground, which the boy preferred, now boasts bigger and better swings, climbing frames and slides, so much so that he, with us for this outing, insisted on trying them out despite being several years, and even more inches, too big.

Caesar Salad Days

Day two of healthy eating meant a second successive chicken Caesar salad for tea and while the chicken and bacon were tastier (respectively marinated and crispier) my salad, sans spring onion, was rather sparse – just lettuce, tomato & yellow pepper – particularly as I declined the cucumber and pickled beetroot that adorned my wife’s bowl; I tried to make up the deficit with a few grapes but what was really needed to complete the dish were a few anchovies and shavings of parmesan cheese. 

Fashion Advice

Possibly under-reported in the blog is my role as dispenser of fashion advice to my wife, necessary when some serious shopping is called for like today when a potential key outfit was up for consideration at a Yarm boutique; with the proviso that I would be rewarded with tea and a scone I was happy to oblige (even happier when the shop turned out to be one of those that sensibly provides a sofa for attending husbands) and gave my seal of approval while noting the fit was a bit snug, a comment that has resulted in us both committing to a six week programme of healthy eating and regular exercise – needed for me as the suit bought last February has to still fit at my daughter’s wedding next December.

Youth Employment

The youth in question is my son, who between college and university is largely at a loose end, but yesterday and today was put to work is assisting me convert a wardrobe to a cupboard via the installation of shelves; to be fair he took to the task well, proving competent at measuring, sawing, drilling and screwing together as required and by the end it was pretty much me helping him, to the extent it was left to me to do the traditional apprentice task of sweeping up.

End of the Tour

Unmentioned over the last three weeks, but forming a part of each day, has been the excellent Tour de France coverage on ITV4, that I have been able to watch, mainly live, sometimes on +1, or failing that via a recording or the highlights show; despite the yellow and green jerseys turning out to be the expected forgone conclusions (Froome & Sagan), the race has been enjoyable for its exciting stage finishes, either bunch sprints won by a tyre-width (mainly by Mark Cavendish) or breakaways hanging on up the mountains to get, for once, their just desserts.

Handlebards

Raby Castle’s walled garden provided the latest stop for a troop of strolling, or rather cycling, Shakespearean players, who call themselves appropriately enough ‘The Handlebards’, on their epic ride to the Edinburgh Festival and tonight they gave us their manic take on Richard III, the all-male cast of four playing the forty-one characters of both genders, cleverly distinguishing between them with subtle re-arrangements of costume and props (mainly hats – indeed some characters were solely hats) and less subtle variations in voice and accent; the Bard’s words were well delivered within the light-hearted production, ideal for a summer’s evening audience of picnickers who showed their appreciation with a standing ovation at the final curtain (though there were no curtains, or stage, or lights, or sound system, and precious little scenery, unsurprisingly as it all has to transported from venue to venue by bike).

Mixing It

I have been doing a lot of mixing recently – sand, cement & water for the pointing mortar, flour, fat & water for pastry, and now plaster & water to patch around the replacement doorframe; crucial in each case is the amount of water added and in each case a seemingly minute quantity can immediately transform a dry crumbly mass to a wet sloppy mess, but so far so good with the mortar firm betwixt the bricks, the pie encased top and bottom in a crisp crust, and today the plaster largely staying where it was put.

No More Cleaning Windows

I retired from another job today, albeit an unpaid and highly irregular one, as our window cleaner; spotting (just, through a grimy front fenestration) a professional at work across the street I opened negotiations and agreed a fortnightly wipe over with a soapy squidgy and a rub down with a chamois - and he’ll clean the windows as well.

Summer’s Day

Hot, sunny, still and pleasantly warm even in the shade of the trees where I set up the garden table and chairs to sit in my shorts and read, write and puzzle away the day, making the most of what may be the summer; with jobs done yesterday and the rest of the household engaged socially elsewhere, my lazy day extended into the evening with leftover pie for tea, a thought-provoking film on TV, and a final sit out in the cooling dusk, watching the stars come out and the bats flit past.

Less 4 Exercise

Today I conceded defeat and cancelled my membership with the ‘Xercise4Less’ gym, which was proving ineffective at improving my fitness and reducing my weight, possibly due to not actually using the facilities for several months; so although the pounds in my bank balance went down each month, those that make up my weight did not.

Costa Rica Calling

With the elder daughter back working abroad, Skype Sunday has recommenced, only now she is seven hours behind in Costa Rica rather than seven hours ahead in Mongolia; it means chatting times are reversed – before tea for us and after breakfast for her.

Garden Off-Centre

We made a first visit to Cherry Tree Garden centre today, simply to buy a plant in a pot for a present, but on entering we found ourselves in a huge Aladdin’s cave full of esoteric ornamentation, packed with items designed to make not only your garden but your house distinctive (if not tasteful); faced with this onslaught it took us almost an hour to make our way outside to the plants, and then following our purchase we were distracted by the inevitable café, which was doing a good trade – unsurprisingly as for most people the time taken to see all on display would probably extend over at least one mealtime.

Lawn Mower Racing

While eating breakfast this morning I was alerted by the sound of lawn mower engines, and discovering that the men from the council had arrived to mow the village green I had to jump to and get my own mower up and running before they reached the front of the house; the grass there is not village green but, because it is green and in the village, that fact is often ignored as the over-zealous operatives attempt to cut (or rip to shreds) my postage stamp sized lawn with industrial grass cutters industrially handled.

Get Up and Go!

The release today of the new Pokémon Go! app has had a dramatic effect on my son’s lifestyle as its requirement that players physically walk around to hunt down and capture the virtual critters has meant he has had more fresh air and exercise in one day than he normally gets over the whole six weeks holiday; I hope this is the start of a trend for socially useful games and look forward in particular to Grand Wash Auto and Call of Domestic Duty: Cleaning Ops.

Winter Warmers

A letter today informed me that due to my advancing years I was eligible for a winter fuel payment from the government the next time that season comes around, provided I was not illegally in the country, hospitalised, in prison or in care; none of these currently apply so provided I keep my nose clean and remain fit for the qualifying week in September, I will get the cash to spend on keeping warm, and while it will not buy much heating oil or electricity, it should be enough for a thick jumper, extra socks and a bottle of whisky.

Climate Change

The elder daughter, having returned from teaching in Mongolia only a month ago, set off tonight for her next post in Costa Rica; if a change is as good as a rest then she will be well rested – going from the land-locked, dry and extremely cold Asian steppes to a tropical rain forest betwixt the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans.

Lack of Interest

While clearing up my deceased dad’s finances we transferred the balance on his ISA bank account at the Halifax to his widow’s similar account that I then discovered was earning 0.1% interest, a state of affairs the bank seemed happy to allow to continue indefinitely; not so me and today we had words at a pre-arranged appointment where, after sitting through two videos and being given seventy pages of terms and conditions by an employee who could do no more than read the on-screen script, we finally managed to simply change the account to one giving twelve and a half times as much interest – the moral of the story being that the Halifax is clearly more interested in maximising its own profits and covering its mis-selling back than (despite its crass slogan) giving its customers ‘extra’.

Kynren

Attending last night’s Kynren performance meant getting home past midnight but it was well worth it as the show was a triumph, packing 2,000 years of English history into an hour and a half of live action, stirring words, shifting scenery, and special effects in smoke, fire, light and water; to produce such a spectacle in the thirteen months from conception is truly amazing.

Family Time

It is not often we can get both daughters to visit at the same time, what with one having a career, house and husband-to-be in Nottingham and the other working in far flung locations, but today we managed it and celebrated with a family brunch at the splendid Vane Arms, an afternoon of relaxation, and a special evening watching the Kynren event at Bishop Auckland, where the recommended gap between arrival at 6:30 and the start of the show at 9:30 at least provided more time to chat and enjoy each other’s company.

DIY Date

My on-going relationship with the replacement doorframe (which is causing resentment in my half-pointed garden wall) moved a step forward today as I measured, cut, fitted, re-measured, trimmed, re-fitted and finally screwed into place the new architrave; it looks pretty good but with extensive patch plastering still needed to fill the holes in the surrounding walls, we will be seeing plenty of each other for a while yet.

Raby Castle

Driving the school minibus to Staindrop involved a morning drop-off and an afternoon pick-up, but for once I was happy with a split shift as it gave an opportunity to spend the intervening four hours in the village’s two tea shops and the nearby Raby Castle, particularly enjoyable as I had brought my daughter along to ride shotgun; she thought it was her first visit to the castle, with its deer-filled parkland and peaceful walled garden, but I knew better as I remember her, at a much more tender age, and her even younger sister, running around those same walled gardens, which consequently became not so peaceful.

Moving On

Before moving on from sixth form to university my son’s main task is to clear his bedroom of accumulated boyhood stuff (such as toys, books, games, study notes, clothes, souvenirs and posters) ‘not needed on voyage’, with items classified as keep, store, recycle or rubbish and the barn, charity shops and the bin men each getting their share; as the job was more or less finished today an interesting pile to emerge was of old football programmes whose cover pictures prompted a few ‘where are they now’ questions, with the easiest to answer being about the fresh-faced Adam Johnson (on the front of a 2006 Boro programme) – now residing at Her Majesty’s pleasure.

Eston Nab

A delayed Fathers’ Day walk took me and my elder daughter from Flatts Lane Country Park, up the Eston Hills to Eston Nab from where contrasting views can be had illustrating the two faces of Teesside: to the south, green fields rising to the rolling North York Moors beyond Roseberry Topping; to the north, industrial (or post-industrial) Teesmouth with defunct steelworks, shrunken chemical plants and, with a nod to the future, an offshore wind farm.

Low Profile

Sourcing the new length of architrave for the doorway was not as straightforward as I expected as it comes in various shapes (or profiles as we DIY-ers learn to call them) and the one I needed, “ogee”, turned out to be low profile, considerably less commonly stocked than the ubiquitous “torus”, as I went from B&Q to Jewson’s to JT Atkinson until I finally found some of the right size at Wickes; even then it turned out that not all ogee profiles are identical as the curves and dips didn’t quite match up exactly but I decided it was close enough for me and the alternative would have been to whittle out the shape myself. 

Day of Rest

For once a Sunday that lived up to its out-dated day of rest label, as we had a mooch around the Farmers’ Market (buying artisan bread, cheese and pies - though the milk had to come from the Co-op as none of the farmers had brought a cow), popped into the tea shop for a coffee, and then enjoyed a Sunday dinner at the pub, before returning home to watch the Tour de France on the TV; of course the success of or relaxing day depended heavily on it being a working day for others – stallholders, shop assistants, waitresses, chefs and bar staff, not to mention 198 professional cyclists and their attendant circus.

Removals

Removing the misplaced architrave from the doorway was easy given its dodgy fixing however much of the plaster work it was nailed to removed itself easily as well to leave some gaping holes in the wall, which I filled with my plentiful supply of pointing mortar mix (while leaving some depth for plastering later); as for the removed architrave, once the old nails had been removed, yet more filler scraped off, and a repaired split discovered, it looks a bit too far gone to put back, so a new length may be the order of the day.

Stepping Up

The piece of DIY kit bought on Wednesday – a small folding work platform – was put straight into use today to enable me to access the higher reaches of the garden wall and continue the pointing marathon above head height; more comfortable (and safer) to use than a step ladder it will also save wear and tear on the dining chairs that previously are pressed into service for high level jobs in the house.