where art collides

“OK google, when does time have no meaning?”

08:56 1 31

In its final state, the Universe may end up as an inert cloud of energy and matter, where everything is evenly distributed. In this gray nothingness, “there is no future, there’s no arrow of time anymore,” she says. At that point time has no real meaning, she says. “It has no direction.”

Bit of conversation at breakfast this morning. At some stage, THG asked what the time was. I said we are in Liverpool. Time has no meaning.

I decided to ask google about that and you have just read the response. Soz about the Americun sbelin. You got it as google found it.

Breakfast was the usual Hilton crap. I stay in Hiltons because of the perks they give me as a diamond member. On this occasion free breakfast and valet parking for £12.50. However I’ll not get close to requalifying for diamond in 2024 so I’m just racking up the points this year with a view to finishing off with a five nights for the price of four reward stay somewhere nice. Next year I’ll choose hotels based on different criteria. Location, nice breakfast, price etc.

There was an American sounding guy in an Everton shirt sat behind me at breakfast. He had to shift his chair back to where it originally was to make room for my chair. No problemo. However what I was going to say was Everton are at home today v Burnley. Hotels are reasonably priced and not full. That is not our experience when Liverpool are at home. A game of two halves, a city of two teams.

Our room looks out on the Liverpool 1 shopping centre. People rave about it but it is a shopping centre! I had asked for a room looking out over the Albert Dock but all they could do was this one, six oh four, and said you can see some of the docks. The receptionist was right. If I lean right forward and bend my neck I can see some of the dock but not much.

Just below the room is a big Liverpool sign. As I looked down two women were having their photo taken in front of it by a bloke. I whipped my phone out to take the perfect street pic but wasn’t quick enough. The camera was set to video selfie and by the time I’d fiddled around to get it to take normal photos they had moved on. A moment in time lost and gone for ever.

This Hilton is right next door to a popular shop called John Lewis. I did go in there once on my own but didn’t stay the pace. It’s a shop. I don’t need anything. So this time I will not be visiting it, again.

Very nice meal out with THG last night. Date night. Had pondered finishing off at the Bridewell but we headed back early to catch a bit of Gardener’s World on the telly. That’s thirty six years of married life for you. I nodded off. That’s thirty six years of married life for you, plus a couple of gins and beers at the restaurant.

…

Operations moved to the lively hotel lobby whilst THG does the shops, again. She has some vouchers… The big TV screen is showing Sky News and the talk is about the opening weekend of the cricket county championship. Yay. I joined Notts CCC this year and plan to spend a bit of time there watching some cricketing action. If anyone wants to join me lemme know.

Meanwhile once THG gets back we are planning to head to the Liverpool Central Library which apaz is v ornate and impressivo. THG has been wanting to take me there for some time as part of her plan to impress me with the history and heritage of her home town. She doesn’t need to. Last time we tried the library was closed.

Back in the USSR blasting out in the lobby. This is Liverpool after all. Huge queue for breakfast now. It’s a quarter to ten. I’ll bet the breakfast service finishes at ten. Everyone must have been out on the lash last night.

I’d be interested to hear from others where their best hotel breakfast experience was.

In the lobby, life without specs is a bit of a blur. I’m holding my laptop close to my face and typing with my left hand in order to avoid wearing my sunglasses. It’s all very well looking cool, not being recognised and being able to see, albeit somewhat dimly but it is a strain on the eyes. It’s a compromise as I’m quite slow typing with one hand. Doesn’t really matter as time, as you know, has no meaning.

Two more days of this. I get home Monday evening. The Hermanos Guiterrez gig at the Shepherds Bush Empire is going to be a challenge. Unlikely the place will be well lit, apart from the stage. I’ll probs be the only person wearing shades, apart from the brothers themselves. At least noone will recognize me 🙂

…

After a v enjoyable visit to the central library we ambled down to the Oxfam shop on Bold Street. They have a good selection of second hand books there and I bought a couple of history books. Decided to pass on Jane’s Fighting Ships of which they had quite a few. Wasn’t too impressed with the black and white photos and at £20 wasn’t worth it. Ubered it back to the hotel to pick up bags and car and set off for the Wirral.The uber was from Wolverhampton and clearly didn’t know the area as he didn’t park anywhere near where we were. He wasn’t very chatty either. Didn’t give him a tip.

A word of advice. Avoid the Wallasey Tunnel at all costs.the queues for the toll booths were lengthy and chaotic with cars switching lanes left right and centre. Took a good 15 mins to get through. 

The automatic barrier rejected my Manx pound coins despite the fact that they are legal tender. Instead switched to contact less card. That didn’t work either. In the end THG fielded another £2.10 and we altered finally through. 

That wasn’t the case for the car in the next lane. It had gone through a booth reserved for cars with the fast tag (or whatever it is called). He clearly didn’t have the fast tag (or whatever it is called) and so the barrier stayed down. He wasn’t very popular with the cars behind who by then were unable to reverse and try a different lane and probably wouldn’t have wanted to as they had the fast tag (or whatever it is called).

Hurricane Kathleen (I promoted her) was very noticeable as we came away from the tunnel onto exposed bits of the M53. She is a feisty girl is Kath (leen).

Farewell to Ellan Vannin. Sat at the window of our cabin looking out across Douglas Bay and the Tower of Refuge. Cup of tea in hand. Waiting to depart. The quayside  of the Port of Douglas lies below and a few workers in hi viz jackets go about their business. The fluttering Manx flag suggests a westerly.

The met office says south south westerly 24mph gusting to 36. Force six to seven. Tomorrow will be a lot worse as Storm Kathleen makes her mark on the Irish Sea. I had an auntie Kathleen. Mam’s sister who lived in Carlisle. Few of that generation are still with us and certainly not in our family. They remain in our thoughts.

From my balcony I can see St Ninians church, next to which I went to school. The school building itself is lower lying and don’t think is visible from the eighth deck of the Manxman. The Captain, a Scotsman by the name of Cambell I think, has just announced we are ready to rock and roll. He didn’t quite put it like that but I know that’s what he meant.

We’re off. The wifi seems much faster on the Manannan on the way out but this time I used the premium code whereas last time I just used the normal login available to the great unwashed. How do I know they were unwashed? I don’t.

Overheard at breakfast. The Manxman had 600 passengers booked on and were expecting it to increase to 800 as people brought travel plans forward due to the weather. They actually have 400 so lots of travellers decided not to take the risk. The sailing could potentially have been cancelled and we only got the go ahead at 6.40 this morning.

The boat is quite rocky despite the presence of stabilisers to mitigate the effects of the storm. Had to hold on to the handrail walking about. The bar and restaurant area was quite empty with one or two passengers stretched out on bench seats trying to get some kip.

Now having finished my full Manx I’m stretched out meself next to THG in the comfort of our cabin.

Oh take me home again, Kathleen,

Across the ocean wild and wide.

…

Well this has been a really smooth crossing, in our cabin at least. It was a bit shaky down in the bar. Had a good shower and now up and at it. Made meself a couple of cheese and onion rolls for the journey using my Leatherman multitool. Same blade as I used to cut flowers for the grave yesterday 🙂

Not far to go now although no sign of land. According to Google maps it is there. Just shrouded in mist. 

From Heysham we drive to Liverpool where we will take shelter for the night in the Hilton next to John Lewis. The John Lewis bit isn’t why we went for the Hilton as opposed to the Doubletree we probably prefer. It’s just that it has valet parking and is near to both Pizza Express where THG is taking me tonight and the Bridewell pub which is one of my faves. Some good craft IPA/American Pale Ales. Former prison or simlar. The cells are still there, now used as booths. I can’t say I’m a big Pizza Express fan but I don’t mind going and we have a load of Tesco Clubcard vouchers to spend.

Just passed a boat of some kind headed the other way. A low lying blue one with a white superstructure up the front. Small tanker maybs? Marine Traffic tells me it is Highland Knight (GB). Offshore supply ship.

En route to Liverpool I have a conference call so THG will drive some of the way. It is her car after all. Then another one at three thirty. On a Friday afternoon!!!

Oh! I will take you back, Kathleen
To where your heart will feel no pain
And when the fields are fresh and green
I’ll take you to your home again!

…

Lots of silhouettes in Liverpool. Getting dark and my shades are not a practical prospect.

Finished off the remaining breakfast items in the fridge this morning. Has to be said the sausages here are not in the same league as Lincolnshire Farmhouse sausages from Fosters on Monks Road. At least we are back to normal with hot water and heating. Our house in Peel is very well insulated and has retained the warmth from leaving the heating on yesterday afternoon.

Stopped by the cemetery to leave some flowers on mam and dad’s grave. White chrysanths. Was nice just to be there by myself. 

Then met THG, Mike, Richard and Jacqui for the Silver Surfers lunch at the Boatyard Restaurant. Two courses for £11.50 or three for £14.50. What’s not to like! This is the first time I have availed myself of an offer open only to those over the age of sixty! OMFG sign of the times.

Back home an sms bombshell from the IoM Steam Packet Co hit. Tomorrow’s sailing is at risk and will be assessed by the skipper at oh six forty five tomorrow morning. Exactly the time we will be leaving for Douglas to catch the boat!

Now this is the thing. If we don’t go tomorrow there is no way we will be getting away before Monday as the weather forecast is deteriorating. I’ve cancelled the Liverpool Hilton tomorrow night as it needs doing before midnight – 6.45 am is too late. Can easily rebook. Then I have until 2pm Saturday to decide whether to cancel the Hoxton in London. I will know tomorrow. John will need to find a pal to go to the Hermanos Gutierrez gig if that happens.  Shame as we planned this ages ago.

At least we have the house in Peel with a now fixed central heating system.  Island living…

It is one of those days of childhood spent gazing out of the window at the rain. The interminable rain. We never stop being kids so the reference to childhood is valid. On this occasion we will not be playing Monopoly to while away the time. Firstly there are only two of us. Me and THG. Then we don’t have a Monopoly set with us and I’m not driving to Douglas to see if I can buy one. No way Jose. Not even sure I could source one in Douglas anyway.

There is bugger all in Douglas nowadays. Very poor compared with somewhere like St Helier in Jersey, a comparable island tax haven. When we were over last summer there was a cruise ship in town. I remember seeing some of the somewhat ancient passengers wandering around. Their mistake being to opt for a walk around Douglas as opposed to a coach trip to somewhere more interesting like Peel or Laxey. Or Castletown or the Sound or a trip up Snaefell. Or the Point of Ayre.

On the occasion of this wet morning a full Manx is called for. This is the same as a full English/Welsh/Irish/wherever except the ingredients are definitely locally sourced. All except the baked beans, I imagine but that exception might possibly apply to any of the above referenced repasts. Where do they make baked beans?

Wigan. They are made in Wigan. I just looked. Couldn’t leave that one hanging. The haricot beans are however imported from North America so even in a full English the baked beans are arguably not English. Also the bacon is probs Danish if you bought it from a supermarket. Full of water and white preservative crap.

Anyway mine will be a full Manx with a hint of American grown beans finished and tinned in Wigan. Definitely not American bacon @Huw.

Ordinarily I don’t mind the rain. However when all I have to see through is my pair of prescription sunglasses the lower light levels that rain causes makes it more of a strain to see. The problem is when I type on the laptop I need my specs as the writing on the screen is otherwise a blur. 

If I was a caveman I’d be dead by now. Savaged by a sabre tooth tiger I didn’t see lying waiting in that long grass. Ug.

It is appropriate to take your time when preparing breakfast when on holiday. At oh eight thirty five I have consumed the remaining half a cup of grapefruit segments and am sipping a black cawfee prepared by THG herself. The main event has not yet started.

All is well.

…

The weather has definitely made a turn for the worse. Sea conditions deteriorating. We are on an island here. Fenland Beach Is deserted with only two other cars in the car park. Hardy souls out walking. I see one person sat in his car enjoying the scene. The sound of rain on the car roof.

En route I passed a bloke in a superman tshirt and black shorts carrying a large black umbrella. Then a party of very young schoolchildren in hi viz jackets trooping in single file along the quayside past Deveraux’ kipper shop.

THG and I have changed our return boat to Heysham on Friday instead of Liverpool on Saturday. I fully expect the Liverpool boat to be cancelled. Winds are forecast to be over 40mph gusting to over 60. The revised sailing is an hour later at oh eight fifteen and therefore slightly more bearable. Also we have a large cabin with double bed and balcony. Somehow don’t think it will be balcony weather. 

Whatever might be written about it the rain is very calming.

At the breakwater nothing stirs. There is usually someone upon the wall. Nobody sat outside the cafe. It is a sun trap when there is sun. I can’t even see if it is open.  Must be.

Peel promenade edges the beach across the water. No sign of movement although my vision is very much impaired by the blurry windscreen.

Someone in black waterproofs has appeared from a truck on the quay and is hauling a catch up in an orange plastic bucket from the fishing boat down below. No idea what it is. I’ll brave the rain and go and have a look. It wasn’t fish. It was his lunchbox and other such items. There was a guy down below stowing ropes and cleaning dredging equipment. Chains. Anzac of Ramsey. They have both now departed in the truck.

The Anzac is moored next to Peel lifeboat, normally kept safely in the boathouse. It seems to have been moored at the quayside since We got here last Friday. The engine is running and someone is onboard.  Brew on the go, studying charts and waiting for the call.

The caff was open as was the fish bar at the end of the prom next to the swing bridge taking you to Fenella. Very slow day.

No parking spots anywhere near the House of Manannan museum. I want to buy a book by my old PE teacher Brian King. Mr King. In the end took the disabled spot in front of the entrance. Only took me a couple of mins to nip in and buy the book. Inside I realized why there were no parking spots available. Everyone had driven and was in the House of Mannanan cafe. 

The new arrangement on the quay is not good though. Double yellows everywhere.  The three free spots In front of the Creek have vanished. They were quite handy for nipping down for a swift couple.

Back at the end of the prom the slate green sea looks uninviting. Time to go home and read my book.

Bin day in Peel. Apaz. Still v cloudy out though not raining, fwiw. I’m still wearing my (prescription) Oakleys. People will either think I’m v cool or v weird.

Although we’ve been told it is bin day and we have put the bin outside the house there is no sign of anyone else in the cul de sac doing so and I’m wondering whether we were supposed to be wheeling them elsewhere. They are wheelie bins after all. Ah well.

So this morning’s story is I’ve managed to get in touch with Manx Petroleum and ordered 250l of fuel for the central heating. Gets delivered Thursday, if it is the will of Allah or Manannán mac Lir which is probably more appropriate for the Isle of Man. Also need to coordinate the arrival of “engineer” (plumber) as the system will need venting.

Another leisurely start to the day, particularly as my eight o’clock meeting was moved to ten which better suits all concerned. We found a tin of grapefruit segments in the cupboard so breakfast began with that followed by toasted Laxey sourdough, ripe avocado with walnuts, streaky bacon, egg and a drizzle of Belazu organic balsamic vinegar. V nice.

Peel seems to have moved on from the Easter weekend. The cars of those forced by circumstances to work for a living have gone from their parking bays in the Grove. Others, presumably tradesmen, have arrived to get on with their own task of hammering, drilling, sawing or whatever else they might need to do in the performance of their life’s calling.

Our lawn needs cutting but the lawnmower ist kaput or words to that effect. A gardener is due to come in and mow it but I guess that is very much down to availability and weather at this early stage of the growing season. Funnily enough we also need a new mower at home in Lincoln. Not sure it is worth buying another for Peel. Depends on how much the jardiniere charges I guess. 

Notice how I naturally lapse into different languages seemingly without even noticing. Sworrapens.

Tonight is Royal India night. We are both very much looking forward to this. Lots of good memories of curry nights there. They were shut on the last two occasions we were here. Once due to paternity leave and the other due to something else. Holidays maybs. Everyone deserves a holiday once in a while. Recharge the batteries. Only problem with coming to the Isle of Man is we need to recharge our batteries when we get home 🙂

I am particularly looking forward to not having to wear sunglasses when I get home. I will pop into the local Cowley’s Pharmacy to see if they have any suitable cheapo/disposable specs that might do me as an interim job. Can do it after dropping a load of mail off at the Post Office. Our last lot of tenants didn’t appear to have left a mail forwarder in place. Some of the letters are from the good folk of the IoM Income Tax dept. Already paid mine.

The pharmacy is next to the Royal India funnily enough. RI doesn’t open until five though.

…

The news from Cowleys is no way Jose. The cheapo reading glasses they have on offer are nowhere near the right prescription for me. I have no idea where this poor eyesight comes from genetically. Neither of my parents were as bad as this and nor were my grandparents afaik though I only ever knew one of them.

…

All is calm at Fenella Beach, far away in Peel. A world away, in distance and in time.

…

The front room is quiet. Just me and THG doing our own thing. Makes me think of mam and dad sitting here on their own. Dad was very lonely after mam died, no matter how often we used to call. The time came when a team decision was made for him to move to Cardiff to be nearer the girls. The end of an era.

The Davies family moved to the Isle of Man around 1974. Dad was just shy of being forty years old and in his eighties when he moved back to Wales. The island has been a big part of our lives as a family.

A cloudy day in Old Peel Town. THG has gone out for a run and I am contemplating sticking some bacon and sausage on. Interesting concept, sticking bacon and sausage on. As opposed to cooking or frying it. I tend not to grill although sometimes this is the only way to cook bacon if it is full of water and white preservative, yuk. Try not to buy that crap.

Tis a Bank Holiday Monday. Easter Monday. You knew that. This morning we are off to a car boot sale. Many years since I went to one of those and probably only ever been twice. In my life. I am not particularly hopeful that I will find anything of interest but you never know. That rare find that has been in someone’s attic for years that they finally decided to get rid of. A bargain for a fiver.

Gonna rain all afternoon so we will have to find a wet weather activity to keep us occupied. Historically we would take the kids on a trip on the electric railway to Laxey. We have photos of them huddled under the canopy of the MER waiting room in Laxey, one year taller in each pic. I’ll have to see if I can dig them out.

One thing we could do would be to visit the 200th Anniversary of the RNLI exhibition in the museum in Douglas. The RNLI was founded in the Isle of Man. I was in Hillary House at Ballakermeen school fwiw.

…

A drizly old morning for our walk around Peel. Hit the car boot sale but bugger all there of interest and perhaps only twelve or so vendor pitches/car boots. Did buy a poster at the Transport Heritage Museum which will go up in the shed.

01624 631553 peel police station

Children play with dogs
A team photo is taken, cheese everyone
Day Trippers are out in force at Fenella Beach on  Easter Monday.
Waves beat a slow rhythm against the sands 
Voices of the young cry for their mothers
Ever present seabirds cry for their dinner 
In the small bay the sea is calm but the effect of the wind is noticeable on the water beyond St Patrick’s Isle.
Ahead of me the hermit’s tower scans the horizon
but it is early in the season and not a nice day to be out in a boat
Fishing vessel PL80, Coral Strand 2  manoeuvres into place next to PL25 Peter M of Peel on the quayside opposite 
Bags of scallops are hoisted ashore onto a waiting truck. A big haul.
An eider duck paddles along near the rocks below me
Away from the noise on the beach it is very peaceful 
The millenia crawl by at glacial pace
Around the other side of the castle the lifeboat tractor with its industrial strength trailer stands ready to hail the lifeboat up the ramp
Cars come and cars go while fishing boats at their moorings dance slowly to the tune of the sea
Well wrapped up ladies walk.
The distinctive yellow livery of PL1, New Dawn, motors into view and heads for the lorry that has just unloaded PL80.

It is a grey day

Great night out at Titan on Broadway last night. Left a good review on the Advisor of Trip. Went with old school pals who I’ve known since I was thirteen or fourteen. That’s forty eight years! Forty eight! Wot! They still live on the Isle of Man and I don’t.

Our booking was for quarter past eight so we were quite late eating. As a result I’m not in the least bit hungry when it comes to breakfast this morning. Not helped by the fact that the clocks sprang forward last night. I can still hear the sounds of the springs fading away in my mind.

Pondering doing brunch in the Cafe at the Sound though THG herself is making  breakfast in’t kitch. We want to head out for a drive before the afternoon is written off watching football. Crucial fixtures in the run in to the season finale or words to that effect. Game of two halves, pleased for the lads etc etc.

Still not totes decided on where to watch which game. The obvious venue is at the Whitehouse pub around the corner. However the first game starts at two thirty pee em. That’s an early start in the pub. Would be different if it was a lads afternoon out but it isn’t. I’ll see how it goes.

When we set off for the Sound we are going to swing by the local cop shop to see if anyone handed my specs in yesterday. I’m not optimistic particularly as Peel Police Station isn’t normally open at weekends (crooks on the Isle of Man unusually only operate during the week) but they might have been open yesterday, what with the big race up Peel Hill happening.

Happy Easter Sunday everyone especially if you are of the Christian faith. Also if you are not. I’m not but I quite like the double bank holiday weekend and wouldn’t have it any other way.

…

It is after seven pee em and THG and I have locked ourselves in to our holiday abode. This is mam and dad’s house in which we are v comfortable. I am swigging a glass of ozzie red – Jim Barry, The Forger and all is well. This house is full of great memories. Family holidays in the Isle of Man. I feel the presence of my parents everywhere in Peel.

This afternoon’s football worked out as well as it could have done.

I am lost for words. This is because I have now lost my reading glasses. I took them off in order to wear my full subscription sunglasses and clipped them over my tshirt under my jumper. Back home they are nowhere to be found. Aarrgghh. V annoying. I now just have my sunglasses for the rest of the trip!

THG has set off to retrace my steps to see if she can spot them. She is a much faster walker than me. Fingers crossed. Pathetic really. We now have to hope it is sunny for the next week. In the Isle of Man. Snotgonnahappenisit.

There is only one outcome of this episode that might be regarded as a silver lining and that is I have (had) identical frames for both reading and normal specs. This will present an opportunity to change the reading specs so that I don’t get them mixed up anymore. Always look on the bright side of life, da doo, da doo, da doo, da doo, da doo, da doo doo.

…

Drove down to the breakwater in Peel to see whether I could find the specs but the place was rammed with contestants and supporters there for the race up Peel Hill.

Instead I paid a visit to mam and dad’s grave. They are buried in a wonderful spot surrounded by birdsong and nature. It is very easy to get emotional stood there. They were wonderful parents.

“Stop sounding so cheerful.” THG 29/03/2024. THG is prone to mal de mer and we were in the queue on the landing stage of the Isle of Man Steam packet Company waiting to board. Sea sickness tablets had been dispensed as Liverpool came into sight but the boat trip is always looked upon with an element of trepidation.

Now onboard and sitting comfortably in the lounge (window seats 15 and 16) with a cup of tea the skipper has assured her that the voyage should be smooth. We are however now having to endure the safety video. This is the one that involves an actor dressed as a pirate who tries to be funny whilst the other actor dressed as a cabin attendant dispenses safety advice. It is mildly amusing the first time you see it but seriously annoying thereafter. A bit like that star studded BA safety video that used to drive me totally nuts. I donned my Bose phones and drowned out the pirate with The Doors (Cmon Baby Light My Fire).

I quite like the boat trip to the Isle of Man. Gives me a good couple of hours of uninterrupted time turning thoughts into pixels. You can almost picture the flow of words beaming into the laptop. You are reading them now, Scotty.

As we are on holiday I have already consumed two small packets of bourbon creams, dunked in the tea, and a Breakaway chocolate biscuit, not dunked. The lounge is well stocked. Probably the only time I indulge in such delicacies nowadays. It is very easy to consume a whole packet of Bourbons with some serial dunking. Don’t fancy any of the food on offer otherwise. I could nip down to the main deck to purchase a sandwich I suppose. Will survive.

When we arrive in Peel some big decisions of the day will have to be made. What to have for tea. The choices are something from Shoprite/Tesco/whatever it is called these days or a takeaway/eat out.

I will in anycase have to do a supply run to stock up for the week ahead. Essentials such as bacon, queenies and Noa Bakehouse sourdough bread. Noa Bakehouse is just opposite the ferry terminal in Douglas so could swing by there before we head west for Sunset City.

Bit of a tedious sounding bloke droning on behind me. I seem to attract them!

Tref’s shopping list, written whilst on da bote.

Bread
Butter
Milk
Berries
Salad
Queenies
Bacon
Sausage
Mushrooms
Tomatoes
Yo, gurt (greek)

The Starlink connection provided on the boat is next to useless. It proxies everything and so sensible websites don’t trust it.

A somewhat hazy start to the day. It must have been the grappa last night. Or it might have been the calvados, or the gin, or the beer, or the vino!

Not much to report. You might ask why bother telling you that. You do have a point 😂 For one we cancelled the milk so no milkman delivery time to share. Feels now as if there is a hole in the day. Something missing. Milk!

This morning we are off to Liverpool en route to Mona’s Isle. Visiting family. THG lapses into broad Scouse when we go. Ish. Sort of. I probs do the same in Wales and the Isle of Man. Not Scouse though. Mind you the Manx accent is quite similar. Welsh is broad Welsh whichever way you look at it.

Ordinarily THG doesn’t particularly have an accent. That’s what a good education does for you. Speaks fluent French and German (Jeeerman as they say in her home town) fair play. I speak French with a Tref accent. Can’t be bothered to get the pronunciation right which is a cardinal sin in France. I refer you to Henry Higgins, Professor.

There is one bit of news and that is I got one number in the lottery draw for last Saturday. I didn’t check it on the day. Ordinarily I don’t get any numbers right. In fact I typically only buy a ticket once or twice a year and this one was my second of the year already. 

The only reason I bought the ticket was because I felt lucky. When I shop at Waitrose I always use a scanner. For a bit of fun I try to guess which scanner is about to light up. It keeps me entertained. Anyway last week I guessed right for only the third time ever. I thought “wow I’d better buy a lottery ticket”. 

Didn’t work, unless you consider the one right number to be a huge step up from no numbers at all. I guess mathematically speaking it is. Mathematically not good enough for the fourteen million to one odds of getting all six numbers right. 

Had I won I’d be writing this from my villa in da Caribbean mon, although we do enjoy going to the Isle of Man. The difference is temperature. Over the coming few days Peel is set to see temperatures soar to nine degrees. I haven’t checked St Lucia but it will be a tad warmer there.

We are all used to cold, wet weather over the Easter holidays innit. This is the dUK after all. Except for The Isle of Man which is not in the dUK.

We quite often don’t go anywhere at Easter preferring to avoid the traffique but this year we threw caution to the wind and are heading off. A day early to avoid said traffique. I wonder whether the person who reads this is also heading off. Cornwall probs, or Aberdeen. Somewhere conveniently close.

For the record the temperature on Friday in Aberdeen is forecast to reach a heady eight degrees. Eleven in Penzance. The message is take your thermals wherever you go, unless it is St Lucia. If you are going to St Lucia I hope you are already on your way at least as the queues in the airport tomorrow will be just as long as the traffic jam leading into Cornwall. Unless you are checking in at the BA First Wing in T5 where there should be no queue. Not sure they fly to St Lucia from LHR though.

Milkman came at oh three twenty four. I thought he was carrying a torch but it turned out to be a ciggie. There is a two hour spread in delivery times and hitherto no discernible pattern. At some stage I should see if AI can spot anything but I suspect more data is needed. Probably years worth.

It would be quite interesting (ok only for the nerds amongst us) to look at milkman delivery times across the whole country but I doubt this data exists beyond my own house. The Internet of Things applied to milk rounds. Who knows what efficiencies or output could result from the project. Maybe milk floats have trackers with useful, publicly available APIs.

In the meantime I was up and at it for oh eight hundred. Breakfast at my desk etc etc. Busy busy busy. My life oscillates between doing bugger all for a while then flurries of activity. There will be some amongst you who may observe that if I evened out the workload then I would not have the same highs and lows and thus an easier, stress free life. Well this is not how it works.

Palm Sunday innit. I know this because THG said it was so and it might have got a mention on the wireless. I was only half listening. To the wireless that is not THG whose every word I take in, often  😀 

In honour of the occasion I am now listening to a bit of Bach. I haven’t listened to St John Passion before. It isn’t quite the same when you don’t know the work. Time I learnt. 

Bach is competing with a bird outside the window. There are more than one. I think they are chatting to each other. No idea what they are. Probably those black ones with orange beaks. Just been into the conservatory to have a look and yes indeed they are blackbirds. Hoping these are not alarm cries due to the presence of magpies who are their mortal enemies. Saw a couple of magpies carrying nest building materials the other day.

Sunny day out. Will be popping to Waitrose a bit later on if anyone fancies a cawfee.

…

Must say ole St John didn’t totally float ma boat. Switched off now. It’s probs one of those works you need to sit and listen to intently rather than have it on in the background in the kitchen.

I’m sat in the snug. Signs of life coming from the kitchen. Tap running, cupboard doors closing. I’d prefer to sit in the conservatory and enjoy the sunshine but that right now is filled with crap ready to take to the tip tomorrow.

A cup of tea has magically appeared to my right. Alacazam! What is not to like. 

…

Just had a thought. When Michelangelo painted the ceiling of the sistine chapel he would probably have had to do it lying on his back on a scaffold. My question is how would he hold the paint palette? The obvious way would be to hold it upside down in his left hand whilst holding the brush in his right. Ok the other way around if he was left handed. The thing is how did he stop the paint from running and dripping off the palette?

The scaffolding would have to be approximately an arms length from the ceiling to make things comfortable for the lad. No point in having to constantly bend your arms and be uncomfortable. Would have led to mistakes. 

Also I suppose he would have had a sidekick to resupply him with paint as he progressed. Going up and down the ladders himself would not have been an efficient use of his time when he would have wanted to max out his time at the ceiling. The coal face if you like.

They must presumably have had dust sheets covering the floor to avoid any drops of paint falling on the polished parquet flooring. All these things you have to think about when doing the job but which historians brush over (so to speak) or even forget to mention.

Don’t ask me what made me think of this right now. Funny old world innit 🙂

…

Fired up the lawnmower, or not as happens to be the case. Needs a service really but tbh it ain’t worth servicing. Eventually got it going after a few attempts with rests in between to let it have a think about its role in life. Mower or scrap metal.

Now back in da shed playing the Latin playlist from a couple of trefbashes ago. At some point this year will have to get a tropical playlist going in keeping with the theme for the next bash.

Tis raining. Not pouring, just raining. A blustery spring day. Doesn’t look particularly warm out there. I am sitting comfortably on the pew in our kitchen having consumed an excellent bacon and mushroom sandwich in the company of THG. Toasted Waitrose white boule. Fosters bacon.

Being a Saturday demands a slow start. I’ve not even considered turning over the engine. Something, I know not what, is bubbling away on the stove top. My cup is full of tea.

I have an open day ahead. A few jobs to do at my leisure. Putting away the chip oil from last night for example. Life is not always glamorous, yanow. I will be making a beef stew in readiness for the arrival of our Joe tomorrow. A warming meal for the lad after a long drive up from the smoke.

I wonder if people realise why it was called the smoke. When mam and dad lived in London in the late fifties the smog could get so bad it could be difficult to find your way home. Especially the case after a seriously boozy diner at Temple Bar as dad once recalled.

We like the fact that the offspring want to come and visit us. One at a time is good but all four at once works too. Then the house gets noisy, busy. Sgood. We do also like time to ourselves. Reminds us of what it was all about in the first place, just the two of us.

It’s the last home game of the season for Lincoln Rugby Club but don’t think I’ll make it. Certainly not for the lunch. Boozy lunches at LRFC mean the day ends at around seven o’clock with the rest of the evening involving falling asleep on the settee. We are off out to the Castle View Indian with Mike tonight so can’t afford to fall asleep. Also THG is heading out with the girls in her car. I could cadge a lift to the club off someone. See how it goze.

One of my jobs is to give the lawn its first mow of the season. At least to see if I can start the mower. Obvs today is not a good day for the actual mowing due to the aforementioned precipitation. There is no rush. Life goes by quickly enough as it is don’t you think? 🙂

Grass does have rights too. The right to grow, free of decapitation in a land where grasses are appreciated, loved. Allowed to express themselves without judgement. Long live grass.