Gone But Not Forgotten

I enjoy reading a map almost as much as a book – place names, proximities, landscapes, routes all fascinate me, and though the geographical features of seas, coastlines, mountains and vegetation remain constant (at least in my lifetime) the human imposed territorial boundaries and names change with history, politics and fashion, thus current atlases while usefully keeping things up to date, erase from the face of the earth nomenclature that intrigued me at school where my love of maps began - places such as Bechuanaland, Tanganyika, Rangoon, Ceylon, Siam, Yugoslavia, and nearer to home, counties like Westmorland, Rutland and Kirkcudbrightshire; in an attempt to roll back the years I rifled the charity book shop yesterday hoping to find an old 1960’s atlas but the furthest back I could get was one from about the 1980’s or 1990’s, undated but dateable from the inclusion in its snapshot of England, the short lived county of Cleveland.

Back on the Bus

What with preparing for the wedding, Christmas, bad legs, and the short-lived competition from the Stockton service, I had not been on the weekly bus to Darlington since my narrow escape from missing the return trip last October, but today normal service was resumed (although for how long is again uncertain according to the regular passengers’ mutterings of anticipated cuts); I soon fell back into the old routine – buying a Non-League Paper, popping into the building society, partaking of tea and a scone at Coopers Tea Shop, picking up a few items in the market, and spending an hour in the library, before a leisurely stroll to the bus stop in very good time for the trip home.

Slide Show

My daughter and son-in-law had brought with them an extensive collection of wedding photos on a memory stick that we managed to display as a slide show on the TV, and which I was enjoying greatly until one slide had me momentarily flummoxed as to who the old bloke next to the bride was; however I soon got used to me looking my age and by the end of the hour long presentation I had recovered my poise and self-esteem.

Cracking Christmas

The re-enactment of Christmas Day went well with the exchange of highly acceptable presents and enjoyable consumption of the turkey dinner; we even had two leftover crackers for the newlyweds to pull and although the jokes were naff and the paper hats misshapen, the novelty tweezers that emerged from each will be handy to facilitate mutual grooming.

Turkey Trot

My return to full mobility was just in time to trot off and buy the necessities for a Christmas dinner – a second one for us but a delayed first for my daughter whose wedding immediately before and honeymoon over the festive period meant she and her husband had missed out on the turkey and trimmings; I was relieved to be able to purchase a crown and four legs, not to mention sprouts, to ensure a traditional look to the feast.

Three into Two won’t Go

The alternative education provision I am part of is well resourced in staffing terms – generally one to one – but less so in terms of accommodation, and this morning the maths problem faced was dividing two training rooms between three tutors, as the “management” had commandeered the conference room for a meeting (as an ex-manager I know that meetings are far more important than teaching learners, but I enjoyed joining in the condemnation of their action); we settled the allocation by applying a first learner come first learner served approach and though the best (large cupboard sized) room went early, my student turned up in time to grab the second (small cupboard sized) room – otherwise I would have been teaching in a corridor.

Films on Four

I do not watch enough films on TV so last night and tonight I caught up on a couple of recent Film Four offerings where I had read the book but never seen the cinematic version: Trainspotting, twenty years on and in the news due to the release of the sequel, I thought breathtakingly good; One Day had less impact for me with my attention often distracted by Anne Hathaway’s patchy Leeds accent.

Conference Cakewalks

Having successfully avoided the sports pages since the weekend I was able to watch the NFL highlights in full anticipation of two exciting close-fought conference finals, however in each game one side built an early and insurmountable lead to take the edge out of the contest; hopefully the winners will provide a closer Superbowl in two weeks’ time.

Ferrule Game

With mobility improving I am down to just the one crutch, which also made me better able to deal with the surprise attacks of the white cat that seems to consider the rubber ferrule on the end fair game for pouncing on.

Cradle to Craze

On the evening my son was born I returned home from hospital and constructed, to support his carrycot, a wooden stand, and in the intervening nineteen years the item has been successively adapted to be a TV/video unit in the snug, a printer stand in the study, a drinks table in the garden and latterly a shelf unit in the barn; today it made another comeback, as part of my wife’s furniture painting craze, as a multi-coloured sideboard in the utility room to hold clean clothes awaiting ironing (it is built to carry such substantial weight) and other laundry related items.

Miss Match

When playing football in my youth I rarely missed a match through injury, partly due to a pre-disposition to avoid 50-50 tackles (preferring to wait for an opportunity to win the ball where the odds were at least 80-20 in my favour) but also due to playing irrespective of niggles, aches and pains; the continual wear and tear on my knees no doubt contributed to their current clapped out condition, which in turn meant I had to miss going to a game today and instead sit with my leg up on the settee. 

Long Lunch

Due to meet a couple of retired ex-colleagues for lunch in Yarm, I had to hastily rearrange the venue to one where I could park within hobbling distance (my Amazon purchased elbow crutches back in service); the Tuns in Sadberge fitted the bill and provided tasty food in a comfortable ambiance, which with a beer to start, a coffee to finish and lots of chat to catch up on in between, meant we were first to arrive and last to leave, only taking the hint when the manager who welcomed us said goodbye as he went off shift.

Waiting on Bended Knee

Once my knee swells up there is no option but to sit down, swallow anti-inflammatories, apply an ice pack now and again, and wait for it to go down again; in the meantime there are books to read and there is snooker to watch.

A Swell Day

A slight stiffness in the knee yesterday was worse this morning and by the time I had limped into work and back it had moved from stiff to swollen rendering me immobile by the evening and unfamiliarly dependent on my wife for the ready supply of cups of tea.

Fu Trump

This is not a message to the soon to be inaugurated President (that would be F U Trump) but a magnificent match in the Masters tournament that treated fans in the Alexandra Palace and me on TV to a fantastic display of snooker; both Marco Fu and Judd Trump were in great form with quick-fire breaks (five centuries in all), Trump taking an early lead but Fu hauling him in to win in the final frame of eleven.

Buying Time

As well as taking some garden rubbish to the tip today I also dropped off a couple of bags of serviceable bric-a-brac at a charity shop; and left with someone else’s serviceable bric-a-brac in the shape of a ‘Miss Kitty’ alarm clock, featuring numbers and hands, which I need to support my teaching of telling the time to the digital age youngsters who rarely see, and never need to read, such an anachronism outside of a SATS exam.

Erasing James

We decided it was high time the old school desk, bought two and a half years ago, got its planned up-cycle, so the wax finish was sanded off and chalk paint applied - red and blue – which covered the old scratches and engravings so well that “James” who “woz here” is no longer so immortalised.

Cold Comforts

The cold snap continued today requiring, for the first time this season, the donning of thermal underwear for the match up at Gateshead; also breaking its duck for the season was the thermos flask, filled with hot tea for half time.

Stretching Credibility

The north wind doth blow, and we did have snow, not much but the temperature dropped low enough to prompt me to light up the wood-burner for the first time this winter, a move much appreciated by my wife and the cats, one of which decided to maximise their exposure with a stretch on the hearth – it would have been my wife but the white cat beat her to it.

Quick Fix

A power failure this morning led to an impressive response from Northern Power, from my initial phone call which was responded to automatically – confirming my address and that the problem was known and being addressed, through a personalised call to inform me of progress and timescale, to the arrival in the field behind the house of three engineers in hi-viz jackets to shin up the pylon and fix the problem; my idea to acknowledge their speedy response with the offer of mugs of tea while they worked died in my head as I realised there was no means to boil the electric kettle.

Trolley Cash

After yesterday’s windfall I thought I was in luck again today when I picked out a shopping trolley at Aldi that already had a pound coin in the slot, however on returning the empty vehicle to its stack the recalcitrant coin would not eject (hence its presence in the first place) and all I got for my efforts to dislodge it was a broken fingernail and a sense of unease as I looked around for a hidden camera in place to record, and later broadcast, the lengths to which some people would go to prise out the prize.

Express Delivery

Delivered today was my compensation payment from Trans Pennine Express whose train from Liverpool to Newcastle on the first of last month failed to live up to its nomenclature, returning me from Manchester the best part of an hour late; the £8.55 will not make a huge difference to my life but it is reassuring to know the system works, albeit hardly at express place.

Brought to Heel

During my sunny afternoon walk down the lane I passed a dog walker and gave her one of my usual cursory nod and grunt acknowledgements reserved for strangers met outdoors, and when a few steps later I heard my name called I just thought Alan was an unusual name for a dog; only after a step or two more and another call to heel did I realise the dog walker was a friend, unrecognisably muffled in scarf and bobble hat, hailing me rather than the pooch.

Fog on the Tees

Our planned Sunday stroll from Middleton St George to the Tees with friends went ahead despite foggy conditions that reduced any views to a grey wall a hundred yards away; it was still good to get out and enjoy the fresh air, exercise and company, and at least it means we can repeat that route without the scenery being familiar.

Uncluttered

The Christmas tree and decorations came down yesterday and today I cleared them into storage while my wife returned the house to a satisfyingly uncluttered state, which may last for a day or two until life impinges on it.

Mophead Mope

The consequence of an oil delivery on a rainy afternoon like this is a mud-stained floor in need of a clean, so I set to with our new sponge-headed mop whose design flaws soon became apparent: it dunked into the bucket of water fine but the squeezing mechanism folded the sponge across its short axis and did not so much squeeze out the water as let it drain at its own pace; applying more pressure simply caused the mechanism to stick, then release with a snap that propelled the retained wetness sideways to splatter the wall (and my trouser legs); once applied to the floor it cut through the grime well enough but left the surface under a film of water, still wet an hour later when I resorted to drying it with some kitchen roll.

Middlesbrough

In the Boro today on some student accommodation business, I lingered to enjoy the sunshine and a mooch around the town, taking in a fine cup of tea and salted caramel brownie (cannily complemented by a fresh strawberry) at the Bedford Street Coffee House before taking a close up look at the always impressive Bottle of Notes.

Spot On

With our broadband being not so much high speed fibre as snail pace copper wire (semaphore would be quicker for most communications) I had given up on trying to stream any content, but prompted by a neighbour I downloaded the free Spotify app and to my surprise found it an effective source of on-demand music, so now it is full speed ahead on the playlists.

New Year, Old Story

The New Year quiz at the Vane Arms concentrated on the key events of the old year, and it was the same old story for our team, finishing out of the top three again but not caring much as the Christmas ‘Blitzen’ ale was still flowing, dark and creamy.

Bookpacking

With backpacking round the world no longer (if it ever was) an option I have decided instead to embark on ‘bookpacking’ – my latest ‘reading journey’ intended to wend its way round the globe calling in at a few countries on each continent to sample a relatively contemporary book set there, written by a local author not previously read; twenty-six books over two years is the plan, with the first leg already begun with a short virtual hop to Dublin courtesy of Paul Murray’s “Skippy Dies”.

Five Years On

Today sees the start of my sixth year of retirement from full time work and looking back gives two contrasting perspectives on those five years – the daily (and often nightly) all-consuming focus on the job seems an age ago, yet the years seem to have sped by, so to reassure myself that the time has not been wasted I reminded myself of some achievements in the field of leisure: read and reviewed 205 books; attended 150 football matches, visiting 38 different grounds, and experienced live the Olympics in London, the Commonwealth Games in Glasgow, and the Tour de France in Yorkshire; walked the Hadrian’s Wall path (82 miles), the Teesdale Path from Barnard Castle to the North Sea (66 miles) and the St Cuthbert’s Way from Melrose as far as Wooler.