It was very disappointing to see that Notts Forest manager Ange Postacoglou got the push yesterday. Ok ok his team are performing badly under him but the game can’t afford to lose people with such great names. I think Forest should have stuck with him for a few years for the sake of the rest of us. There would have been something truly beautiful about watching them slip down to a lower division every year. Pure art. Not sure how low they could go but I’d imagine it would be something like eight drops, maybe more. The best ground in the eighth division. Nothing against the football club per se.
Great day out yesterday. Our group had a party of walkers that set off shortly before eleven and Jezzer and I went for a mooch around Metheringham Airfield Visitors Centre. Those “short walks” always turn out a lot longer than they were supposed to be and I’m on the injured list at the mo so wouldn’t have gone anyway. MAVC is on the site of the WW2 106 Squadron Lancaster bombers, as was. RAF Metheringham. It has a C47 troop carrier that you can actually go into and sit in the pilot seat. V cool. We drove down the runway that the Lancasters used to take off, also v cool. Not sure there are many old airfields that you can just drive onto from a public road and do that. You do need to know that it is there. It isn’t obvious from the road.
This morning is all about packing up the expedition vehicle and going home. We leave the washing up until we get home. Easier to just stick it in the dishwasher. The van always ends up untidy as things get put down wherever there is a convenient space. The glove compartment is the repository for things you definitely need to be able to lay your hands on. Keys n stuff.
Bacon rolls were prepared. This is almost compulsory when camping. Several cups of tea. Many cups of tea. There is no rush. We are forty minutes from home. An ideal distance for a weekend away in the campervan.
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Home now. Mostly unpacked and put away. Dishwasher washing dishes. Fire is set. Got the logs in just before le deluge. Heating and hot water switched on. Time to purge the accumulated grubbiness of a weekend out in the open.
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Fox came at 01:55 this morning.
There is something reassuring about the scene at the lake. A permanence. I realise that nothing is forever. Even lakes change over the millenia. Geological shift. From the perspective of our own microscopically short span on the planet nothing will change, other than that casued by the intervention of mankind.
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It is pleasingly autumnal out there. Rain has hit the shire and I am sat cosily on a sofa next to the fire. When you have a log fire you don’t need any other entertainment. It is company in itself. Talks to you. Not in the same way the sat nav person talks to you where I respond to instructions by talking back. No, the fire doesn’t ask for a response. A fire is happy to crackle away at this audience of one knowing that it has my full attention.
There are also noises off from the kitchen. Quiet food preparation on the go. I made the stew during the week but a bit of veg will go down well. Mash especially. The table has been laid.
The house of Tref and THG is at peace.