where art collides

If it’s Monday it must be snowday. There’s no business like snowbusiness. Sat in the shed gazing out at the relaxing sight of snowfall, the flakes dancing around in what must be a gentle breeze. Inside it is quiet.

I must say it is about time we got some snow. Other parts of the country have been hit with it over the last few weeks but not us. I don’t think it is going to be megadeep but at least everywhere is white.

John has joined me and is sitting at the other desk sporting his headphones doing stuff. We are at peace. Outside the temperature and covid rates continue to drop.

I ventured into the allotments. Nobody around which comes as no surprise. There is just a big pile of scrub where ours used to be. It wasn’t a good plot. Shallow topsoil and overhung by trees. The other week I noticed three blokes in hi viz jackets looking at it. I imagine they were from the council discussing what to do about the scrub. Best thing would be to burn it all really. The potash would be good for the soil. Mind you there could be the odd shopping trolley under that lot. I know not. Also could be hedge hogs.

Had a productive enough day. I try not to do too much 😉

The skies are grey again. I noted that around lunchtime they had turned blue. Although I like blue skies (get my thinking?) I also like the grey where the clouds are laden with snow (get my drift? 🙂 ) I don’t really mind the skies that are filled with rainclouds. What I don’t like is just interminable cloud cover without it being accompanied by associated weather which is all too often a feature of the Uniteed Kingdome at this time of year.

It is observed that in the newspapers today Lincoln is positioned 302nd out of 380 in the rankings of worst places for covid with 137 cases per 100,000 population. I am not unhappy with this though my thoughts do go out to those worse off obvs. Will we ever get to zero? At what number or combination of infection rate and vaccine rollout numbers will it be deemed safe to stand again at the bar of the Morning Star. How does one work that one out. We are told that here in the UK we have some fiendishly clever boffins so someone must have a clue.

The lights are on in the kitchen. Signs of life. Anne is being wonderfully productive during this locked down state. She likes to get out and do stuff with friends but as you know this is denied to all of us so some of her creative output and energy is going into cooking. I am fortunate in having some lovely healthy salads available at lunchtimes. I am lucky to have her 🙂 xxx

Now starting to get dark out. The garden is very bright with its covering of snow. Now playing Abbey Road…

Storm Darcy is en route. Unsure whether Darcy is a he or a she. There is a convention. Let us assume the latter as the name tends to be given to girls these days. So Darcy is dancing towards us with the promise of snow and has been labelled the new Beast From The East. Doesn’t sound right for a Darcy does it? There must be a more beast like name they could have given her. Can’t immediately think of one. Deville maybe as in Cruella Deville but that was a surname. Perhaps this was the problem facing the gang at the Met Office when considering their options. I’m not sure they should get hung up about the first name last name differentiation. Doesn’t seem to matter these days.

As storm Darcy rolls up her cloudy sleeves and prepares to hammer us with what will inevitably turn out to be a light dusting of snow I have just finished breakfast and getting my brain around going for a walk. My promenading companions are not all up yet so there is time. Promenading might also be giving you the wrong impression. I will be togged up in gear appropriate to the Arctic conditions in prospect. My down filled parka has served me well and is guaranteed to maintain comfort levels in sub zero temperatures. I will need to wear thick socks, obvs and my fleece lined leather gloves that only get a few outings a year as they are overkill most of the time. 

So feel free to replace the word promenading with expedition. That replaces a verb with a noun which you may consider to be slightly unusual but it works. I did fleetingly think of using the word expeditioning instead but it doesn’t feel right.

Bringing me a coffee just now Anne informed me that she thinks she saw a snowflake fall. Looking out of the window I see no companions that might give me grounds for declaring the arrival of Darcy. It must have been the advance party. A snow scout. It’s purpose was to announce to the world that they should be battening down their hatches and preparing for the arrival of its other snowflake pals. 

I don’t think that’s what storms do. You are meant to be caught by surprise, out in the open with no shelter in sight. With visibility worsening this could well be a problem. You quicken your pace but are soon lost. You trip over a root and fall roughly. Unable to get up you are soon covered in a thick blanket of snow. That’s it I’m afraid. Gonner. One of  Storm Darcy’s first casualties whose destiny is to be a small part of a meteorological statistic. With it your last, perhaps only, claim to fame with a 5 second appearance on the local TV news where an old photograph does you no justice but was the only one they were able to find. Your story ends.

Hope this is not you. Take care now 🙂

Good morning Saturday. You have fed me well and your Marcus Wareing inspired rosti potatoes were the best yet. Your cup of tea is being enjoyed and I will shortly be indulging in a hot shower before setting off for the day proper. This will involve a journey to the end of the world as I know it, or as described by some, the shed at the bottom of the garden. There is nothing beyond the tall garden fence. An unknown wilderness where voices are occasionally to be heard but never seen.

I foresee a mixed day ahead with a jobs list combining with rugby watching and poultry preparation. Tonight’s repast will be based around a peri peri chicken. It is a little known fact that farmers, when scattering the daily seedcorn in the farmyard will examine the pecking hens and quietly register which ones will be destined for a sunday roast with all the trimmings, which for chicken curry, flavour of your choosing, and which will be either barbecued or periperi’d. Believe it. A chicken, of all the creatures roaming this wonderful planet, is most likely to have its destiny preordained by the great god Giles who provides all poultry sustenance.

My jobs list today takes me to all corners of the known world. In the TV room I shall be erecting a framework for family photos and in Trefsgreenhouse.com you will be able to watch live action of me touching up the sealant around the garden coffee table. Erecting a framework is a fairly dramatic way of describing putting up a baton that will be used to attach photo frames with velcro.

In the meantime the cricket from Chennai is giving no cause for concern. Just like the British weather this can change at a moment’s notice but for now all is well. The weather at home is indeed changing. Not as I speak nor so quickly that we are constantly refreshing the weather forecast app to observe the change. Not in the same way that we would check for US Election updates. It is enough for the moment to look out of the window, perhaps glancing to the horizon in search of lighter skies, or dark clouds approaching.

As I now publish this the news from the subcontinent is that we are 555 for 8 at the close with Root having knocked 218. A satisfactory ending to the day.

Just had a very pleasant chat with one of our van hirers discussing options on where to go in May. This is something I really like to do. Our customers are pretty much always nice people. I think the nature of the game is such that the people who want to hire a vintage VW campervan are a happy go lucky friendly bunch who take life as it comes and have a positive attitude.

This particular customer was based in Hull and trying to figure out the best place to go for his week. I think we concluded that moving around every night did not make for the most relaxing holiday if you were going to spend half of it driving. We quite often stay in one spot for 2 or 3 nights and spend our time exploring the area (and pubs).

I am now feeling quite good about things. This year with the government telling people not to bother with overseas holidays and to focus on staying in the UK we have seen a big rise in preseason bookings and interest. It helped getting some serious coverage on various BBC outlets. It began with an article on staycation on the BBC News website and was quickly followed by great coverage on BBC Look North prime time news and the BBC Radio Lincolnshire breakfast show on the same subject.

This year we have upped our game with the booking system and now use one that lets people choose their dates and book without having to call us. This makes life a lot easier for everyone and to be quite frank about it it is great seeing bookings pop into our email inbox without us having to do anything 🙂

Still happy to take calls and emails though if folk have questions. We are still a couple of months away from the start of the season which this year we are hoping will also coincide with the end of lockdown and the opening up of the countryside. In the meantime snow is forecast for Lincoln. Stay safe everyone.

Now watching Italy v France. It’s on ITV. Never been a big fan of the ITV commentary. This game is followed by England v the Auld Enemy, also on ITV. Fortunately the main event which is Wales v Oireland is on the Beeb tomorrow. The Beeb has never been able to recreate the heady heights of Bill McLaren but they aren’t bad, especially if Jonathan Davies is on.

Drilled a few holes in plant pots. The ones that had started to look like firebuckets. The drilling had the desired effect. The plants will be happier for it. As I finished I heard some loud revving from the allotments behind and popped out through the back gate to satisfy my curiosity. I got there just as the big red long wheelbase transit escaped from a mud bath leaving deep ruts behind. I’m talking maybe a foot deep. Some other chap was stood there with spade in hand having obviously just been to the rescue. Rather him than me. I’d have got dirty. The chap with the spade was geared for the weather and the allotment mud. Good job they have spades on allotments innit.

It is now chucking it down again and I am totally stranded in the shed. I could be here for weeks were it not for the fact that I have a coat and the house is only 25 m away. And an umbrella fwiw. 2 brollies actually. It’s a High Availability umbrella strategy. The other thing about not being here weeks is that I don’t have enough supplies to last that long. Plus we are having piri piri chichen later, as you know. The supplies I refer to are liquid. There is only so much diet coke you can drink.

Getting up to make the tea in the morning might not be the same if we lived in a log cabin in Alaska especially during the long dark winters. I’m not even aware that people who live in such places drink tea. They are more likely to brew coffee in a pot on the range. Random first paragraph.

It is 14.34 and I think I have finished work for the week. This isn’t entirely true because I have more to do but I am waiting on another’s input and if the goods are indeed delivered I may have to warm up the valves on my computing device and do something over the weekend.

The weekend ahead has a lot of activity planned so not totes sure where I’ll fit in some work but we shall see. I say activity. Some of it involves sitting in front of a big screen in the shed watching rugby football.  It is that time of year. Again. 6 nations. Yay.

In the meantime John and I have been to the market that is Waitrose to stock up on a few essentials for the weekend. Some gruyere, fever tree light, that sort of thing. They didn’t have any of the small cans of fever tree left so had to buy the bottles. Ah well.

It’s a lovely springish day out. Early movement from expected flora – snow drops. We all know it will end in teardrops. Snow is forecast for Sunday. Spring, although it is still a way off, is without question the best time of year. The smell of spring is like no other. I have the shed doors slightly ajar.

Although during lockdown 2 this is more of a diary and indeed I’ve used this site for that purpose frequently in the past, the original intent with philosopherontap was as a focal point for creativity. I’m not sure how lockdown affects creativity. I find that having a totally clear mind is essential and lockdown is not conducive to this. 

With a mind cleared of impediment things happen. Words come out as if plucked from nowhere. Picture looking ahead into the space in front of you and seeing words suddenly appear. Ping! They not only appear but when you read them you think “wow, where did they come from?”

…

Just finished my aerobics class. First time I’ve done it the whole way through. I do it stood in front of the telly with the carpet rolled back. You know, just in front of the sofa 🙂 It’s just the right amount of space. I’m crap at timing the steps but the more I do it the more used to that I will become. It’s a lot easier to find 20 mins out of an afternoon than to go for a long walk even though that too is necessary really.

A pot of tea has miraculously arrived in the shed. Thanks to the miracle of love 😉 Have you ever seen a tea tray just appear on the desk in front of you? What great power love brings. There is a song in there somewhere. Loud music already fills the shed. Music from my youth prevails. My kids also listen to it. Some of it.

Looking out from the shed the back garden is bathed in sunlight. A shudder of relaxation just ran through my shoulders. My eyes gently close…

The house is quiet although I can hear Anne busying herself somewhere. She is always doing something. Outside I note that not all of the wood pigeons have been eaten by our local population of peregrine falcons. I can hear their irritating whoop. Who on earth designed that whoop. Distinctive OK but a most annoying birdcall.

Struggling to get the day going in the shed. Have stuck the Classic FM Hall of Fame on Spotify to try and ease me into it. It’s probably on days like this that it would be handy to be in an office and have a chat with the team, about anything really. Not that much would get done. Just coffee consumed. 

Visits to the office are a thing of the past really. Our office is in Belgium. For me to be there at 9am I have to set off at lunchtime the day before. It’s essentially a 3 hour journey to London, a two hour wait in the Eurostar lounge and then a 3 hour leg to the Hilton Garden Inn in Brussels. A 1pm setoff would see me at the hotel bar for 10pm. Ish. I suspect I used to prefer to get in earlier than that to have dinner somewhere. The food on Eurostar isn’t worth the effort, even in Business Class. The wait time does reduce if you pay for it but the flexible business class ticket is £250 each way, maybe a hundred quid more than the semi flex. What it really buys you is 5 minutes through check in versus perhaps 45 minutes or more. Also access to the lounge & booze although if you travel often enough you get that anyway with Carte Blanche. 

Needless to say I no longer have Carte Blanche. I am also now only Silver with BA and can see a further slide to Bronze which means no lounge access. I suspect that with the low frequency of travel in future I’ll just pay to go business class anyway. The most important added benefits are advanced seat reservation, lounge access and priority boarding. If you can get that using status as opposed to paying for business class then that is all you need. 

On a plane trip there is always a clash between the lounge access and advanced seat reservation even when travelling business class. If you don’t get on early then the bastards sat further back who get on before you fill up the overhead locker space. The last thing you want is to have to check your carry on into the hold as it defeats the object of only taking carry on luggage.

The situation is different when travelling long haul. Such journeys require business class travel as a minimum and there is generally no issue with locker space. It is then all about how much you want to get the boarding process out of the way and get settled into your seat for the flight. You want to leave time for the pre flight glass of champagne.

If travelling in first on a long haul flight this is probably only worth it if you are flying out of LHR T5 when you can avail yourself of the benefits of the Concorde Lounge and then you need to think about getting to the airport at least 3 hours before the fight is due to take off. The Concorde Lounge is the pinnacle of airport lounges with full service restaurant and cocktail bar (actually similar to Virgin Clubhouse as I recall but it’s decades since I went to one of those). You can also book an Elemis massage.

How you use the Concorde Lounge is going to depend on time of travel. The breakfasts are good but at that time of day you don’t really want to hit the bar. If it is an afternoon flight then make it a light lunch and a couple of cocktails so as not to spoil your appetite on the long flight ahead.

If it isn’t out of LHR then the added cost of the first class cabin needs to be weighed against the improved bed. That’s really the difference. The food and drink in first might be better than business class but really none of it is much cop and it’s down to how much you value having a decent bed and duvet plus faster disembarkation at your destination. 

Even then the faster arrivals bit is only going to make much difference either if you pay for an expedited service where available or if in the USA you have Global Entry status which makes a massive difference and is very much worth having. The benefits of Global Entry are somewhat negated if you are travelling with someone who doesn’t have it.

Anyway on with the day. It’s meetings meetings meetings all afternoon innit.

In an ideal world it rains overnight and the days are fine. Last night it snowed but it will be gone by mid morning. That rule is only supposed to work for rain. The one “side benefit” if we term it as such is that Anne got up in the night and noticed a fox crossing the back garden. It was really only visible because of the white backdrop. I was able to scroll through the cctv recording and see it from two different camera angles. It’s one of the side benefits of having cctv. The other is knowing when Anne is back from the shops as I can see whether her car is on the drive or not 🙂 

It would appear that ours is not an ideal world. Now I sit here watching the snow melt…

…

This afternoon it is a classic miserable drizzly British February day. It isn’t cold enough for the snow to have stayed and is inconveniently slushy underfoot. I popped out to get Jezzer a birthday card for tomorrow. A small ray of sunshine on an otherwise dingy day.

Tonight we are watching the mighty Imps play Hull in a cup match. We are the in form outfit right now, as the pundits would say. We brought four players in during the January transfer window. The board supports the gaffer when he is on a roll. 

A cup of tea has magically appeared on my desk. Such moments are welcome interruptions to a dull telecoms treadmill day. I say treadmill. That isn’t totally fair or accurate. I have intensive bursts of productivity where I apply nearly 40 years of work experience to sorting out difficult issues in a short space of time. During these times I am motivated and really earn my crust. Then I’ll throttle back for a bit and write this stuff.

…

It is dark out and the scary monsters have been let loose in the forest beyond the bottom of the garden. I will pull the shutters across and lock and bolt the door. There is plenty of fuel for the fire to last the evening and I do not need to be abroad. We are having spag bol later and Pink Martini are now playing…

Come on in the water is lovely. Sometimes it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter whether that first sentence is relevant to anything else in the post. Did it grab your attention and make you want to read more? Maybe yes maybe no. There’s no real logic to anything here. Maybe the water is nice. Maybe it’s a metaphor. I don’t know.

The death trend is down. The level of covid infections is down. A long stretch of covid ridden road lies ahead before we can really get excited about anything. No sign of Anne and I being inoculated yet. We are not old enough which I suppose is a good thing 🙂

Funeral online today for a friend who lost the race. For him and his family trends matter not. We are in the middle of a war. At the beginning of a war when someone loses their life everybody mourns. Then death touches everyone and we grow numb to it. I don’t think we are at that stage yet and still feel it when someone we know and love is taken. The bombs however are falling closer. We continue to sleep in the shelter and wear our gas masks during air raids.

Listening to some loud tunes in the shed whilst watching the covid news conference with subtitles. I prefer the music to a politician’s words. In other wars people would have huddled around the wireless waiting for our leaders’ pronunciations. It’s no different today really.

We subject ourselves to near 24 x 7 news updates and it isn’t often anything new is disseminated at these gigs. At least we have the time when we are asleep to ourselves. Trying to sleep 🙂 Trying not to wake up in the night. Lying there thinking.

There have been a number of historical events in recent years where we have turned to the news for reguar updates. Sometimes it’s been a bit of a nervous follow. Like when the orangudon was kicking up his electoral storm. I’m sure I would have woken up in the night during the US elections and picked up my phone just to check the score. Worked out in the end. So far.

Meanwhile life goes on.

The Guernsey self-isolation club. A play on “The Guernsey Literary Society and Potato Peel Pie Club” (or whatever it was called) but brought up to date and totally different. The outbreak of covid cases in Guernsey is apparently the result of a dance festival held on the island. My mind thinks sweaty packed dance floors aka nightclubs of old. Why would they have such a festival in these dangerous times. Note I say nightclubs of old because it has been decades since I’ve been to a night club. They might still be like that, or at least up until recent legally permissible times. I might be totally wrong and the Guernsey Dance Festival was nothing like my description. Probs.

Hilton Valentine was his real name. I just looked it up as I figured it just have been a stage name. Why would you want a stage name when your real name is Hilton Valentine? I’d want to use my own name as well. Are the days of stage names over? Dunno. I hadn’t heard of Hilton Valentine before he died but I had heard his music.

In other sad news a friend of mine Tom Avern died. I only just found out. He had suffered from cancer for some time, been through many phases of treatment and knew that there was nothing that could be done. I only found out because the notice of his funeral popped up in my timeline. He was Australian and had contributed to philosopherontap under the pseudonym tavernau. 

http://www.philosopherontap.com/author/tavernau/

Shaken out of my reverie just now as The Archers theme tune polluted the airwaves and reached the front room from the kitchen. This had the instant result of me jumping up with a jolt to switch it off. At the same time I could see that the gammon had just come to its first boil and needed the water replacing (got to get rid of that scum) so that is now sorted.

Today is a day for making progress with jobs. We are optimistic that the photos may get put back up on the wall in the library having discussed and agreed on a way to do it that doesn’t involve gluing onto a batten. Velcro is the answer. Using velcro means we (I) can screw the baton to the wall and completely cover it up with picture frames. The gluing option meant needing a bit of baton sticking out at the end. Everyone is now happy. Well she will be when the job finally gets done 🙂

If that goes well the next job will be to grout the tiles on Anne’s little outdoor table. This is the longest outstanding job on my list and as such it almost seems a pity to get it done. The table won’t get used before spring but that will be here before we know it.

This pm we are off for walk – down to the new bypass, along to where you branch on a footpath to the quarry near the Carlton Estate and then home. Never been to that quarry and I’ve lived in Lincoln since 1984!

Finally it’s Liverpeul on the telly before roast gammon dinner. That’s the day ahead.

Ciao amigos.

…

Good walk with Anne and John. They are faster than me so had to occasionally stop for me to catch up. We walked down to the bypass and around the Greetwell Hollow quarry and home. The OS map wasn’t quite right as they are building more houses on part of the route I had in mind and have put heras fencing across the track. Did 3.81 miles and was quite stiff when I got home. Not doing enough walking but trying to sort that out.

Need to properly explore Greetwell Hollow. It is a SSSI and now run by the Lincolnshire Wildlife Trust. Looks like much of the quarry is inaccessible but it would make a great place to take the Defender for a bit of offroading. Ain’t gonna happen. On the way home I noticed that the Calor gas depot behind Tesco had closed permanently. Don’t know the whole story but a shame if this is a covid effect.

Now watching the ‘Peul play the Hammers with John in the shed. Still light at 16.42.

Had a shower after the walk and washed my hair. It’s a strange experience washing hair that can no longer be considered “short”. You find yourself lathering hair in your hand. Some of you will probs be thinking wosseeonabout? You will of course be right.

Oddly the washing the hair bit made me think about who I am. Or who I think I am or want to be. Have you ever really looked at yourself in the mirror and asked that question? What do you see? The mirror doesn’t lie.

Sat here after a good breakfast waiting for the tea to brew and contemplating whether to have a shave. It’s a lockdown working from home problem. Doesn’t matter whether you have a shave or not, unless you are particularly bothered about looking good on video conference calls. As I am cultivating my hippy look again aka lockdown one I do occasionally need to maintain a certain definition between chin and cheek, if you get my drift.

Outside the rain is pelting down and Anne has therefore taken her car to go hunter gathering. It’s wet enough in those hedgerows and on the forest floor without having to ride home on her bicycle. Early in the morning is a good time to go out looking for food as the crowds have not yet appeared and the best produce lies yet ungathered. Ideal in these covid ridden times. No having to maneuver around ignorant people who ignore the clearly marked one way paths around the forest.

I have half an hour or so before our regular Saturday morning festival meeting and so there is no rush. I’ve even tidied up the kitchen after breakfast. 

…

Blustery walk to the shed this morning as you can imagine. Felt as if I was at the coast, perhaps preparing to go to sea instead of carrying a tray with a pot of tea and a satsuma to the bottom of the garden. I do miss the coast. Most of my adult life has been  firmly inland in Lincoln but my childhood was spent on a coast somewhere, be it Wales or the Isle of Man. Rugged, interesting coastline with fishing boats and dirty British coasters and quinquiremes of Nineveh or boats and places to that effect. Ahoy there landlubber. I’m not sure whether I’ve ever seen a quinquireme and am not aware of having been to Nineveh although places do change names so I might have.

It is a Saturday. Not sure how much difference that makes really. John and I are planning to watch the Imps play Doncaster this pm. That is a traditional Saturday afternoon pastime. When I were a lad my dad and I would settle in front of Grandstand on the telly to watch an afternoon of sport. Wasn’t just footy. If I remember right it was whatever was doing down that weekend. Different times. Dad and I used to go out and play golf but don’t remember that being on Saturdays.

Just chatting with dad now, ensconced on the GrandPad in his bijou room in Ty Llandaff in Cardiff. Luxury care facility or words to that effect. Just around the corner from Sue’s although that’s not much use to man nor daughter during lockdown. Might as well be an 8 hour flight apart instead of an 8 minute walk. He is very close to the Romily and Robin Hood pubs. Handy in less pestilent times.

I’ll be nipping out to get some fresh air myself in a bit. I’ve finished the espalier work. And fixed the bathroom scales.

Walked past Tesco with half a mind to nip in to buy some shaving gel. Mahoosive queue outside at around 1.30pm. Bloody fierce cold out there as well so the idea was abandoned. What on earth makes people decide to go to Tesco on a Saturday afternoon (apart from to buy shaving gel obvs). It will be heaving with people all desperate to win a Darwin Award and therefore not somewhere I would want to be. I remain gel-less but Charles Darwin managed without it so I’m sure I’ll survive.

When I unofficially retired I decided I was far too young to do this at the age of 52 and was getting a bit bored so I gradually unretired. Now I find myself in the situation where sometimes there isn’t enough time in the day and I wake up in the middle of the night thinking about a job I haven’t done or a problem I need to sort. Where is the middle ground? I wouldn’t do it if there weren’t significantly more highs than lows. I also tend to do it on my own terms which is fine.

The BBC TV Radio and news website has worked wonders for our profile with Anne’s Vans. We have had orders and lots of telephone enquiries. Our new inbound number has worked wonders with my telephone answering performance. I normally answer my mobile by saying “yo” or simlar. I assume that if someone is ringing my mobile number they know it is me at the other end of the phone. Anne’s Vans is different. They are ringing a company number – 01522 438888 – give it a try. So I answer the phone by saying “Hi there Anne’s Vans here. Tref speaking. Did you see me on the telly?” No not that last bit really. I was joshing.

Listening to The Girl From Ipanema Stan Getz & Joao Gilberto. Work is done. Didn’t get it all finished but will do some pottering over the weekend. Ipanema is a particular fave. I used to play it on the geetar. Many years ago I used to do the occasional Friday night in the Morning Star with Bill Jones on the piano. Bill was the kid really. I was just the bit player in the show. We used to have a good time though and had a regular following. Long time ago now. We used to live 76 paces from the pub.

The EU AstraZeneca vaccine supply row rolls on. I’m keeping quiet as I haven’t had my jab yet. 

One of the boys has mentioned the LeMans rugby tour we did a long time ago. He had found a photo online. I recall that tour as the one where I broke off the family holiday in paris to go to and therefore arrived by train fresh and raring to go whereas everyone else got no sleep on the overnight trip. It was also the tour where “someone” emptied Pete Calveley and Alex Murphy’s in room drinks fridge and they got stung with a £200 bill. The money eventually miraculously appeared just before we left the hotel. Nobody knows where from 😉

After that tour I went back to Paris to rejoin the family. We had a nice few days staying with friends where I was introduced to Chateau Talbot and the music of Jacques Brell (totally different to the rugby tour culture). En route home we rocked up at CDG an hour before our flight to Manchester. There was a huge queue (I had no frequent flyer status in those days although the flights were free as I’d used air miles) and by the time we got to the front they said that the flight was over booked and we would have to catch the next one 4 hours later. To cut a long story short we ended up with £200 cash compensation and a voucher for food (we spend £50 on pizzas and OJ) which was a result considering the flights had been free in the first place and the lunch occupied most of the time waiting for the next flight.

BA handed over the cash in used tenners after we landed. I recall there being an announcement saying “would Mr Davies please make himself known to the BA member of staff upon arrival”. Tom, who was probably 4 or 5 at the time went with the kind person to the office to pick up the loot saying “open the box, take the money” and “what do points mean? Points mean prizes”

Now listening to Elbow – One Day Like This. I only discovered Elbow last year (I know I know). It’s one of my party pieces for the pre Beyond The woods pre festival private party (staff/volunteers/invitation only – you have to know someone but it is an unique and seriously craic). Has to be in a slightly different key but it is easy to play. If you want to volunteer at the Festival this summer drop me a line. See what we have available. Currently the planning is for the gig to happen but we aren’t at crunch time yet.

You sit there clicking away, elbows jabbing anything or anyone that strays near. You know who you are, la tricoteuse.

…

Once more unto the rain dear friends, once more

Or leave the fridge empty and bare of food

In lockdown there’s nothing so becomes a man

As modest self isolation and humility

But when the pangs of hunger rumble in our gut

Then imitate the action of the hunter

Stiffen the resolve, summon up the strength

And focus on what is missing on the shelf

Which in this case is sausage and bacon

And a ribeye steak for Saturday’s dejeuner

I looked at the rest of the speech and of course it is mostly aimed at getting people to fight other people. Whilst this is open to parody during the current covid shitshow I don’t particularly think is appropriate for a family oriented site. Even though I would appear to be starting to use the word shitshow with increasing regularity. It complements brexshit. In fact maybe I could merge the two and say brexshit shitshow. No that is not necessary. Keep it short.

There is no mention of wine in that text but I sense it would be an appropriate addition as an accompaniment to steak. I shall also prepare a suitable salad.

Note also the increasing use of French in these posts. This is partly because I see myself as an internationalist 😉 I also naturally assume that the readers of this stuff are sophisticates who take the words in their stride, perhaps subliminally noting the playful use of the language. Who nose? Que?

There are two main bits of lockdown news today. Firstly Bojo has put on his metaphoric kilt and flown to Scotland to make the Scots think he really cares about them, no doubt crying ‘God for Harry, England, and Saint George!’ (no wait!). This follows a sustained series of surveys  North of The Border that suggest that not only do people there not like him but they increasingly don’t want anything to do with him. Being an attention seeker he has flown up under the apprehension that all he has to do is utter a few flowery sentences and all will be well. 

The biggest question really is whether Bojo wears anything under the kilt. Knowing his past lothario form I’d guess not. Call it a quickie release mechanism. Presumably his choice of tartan would be based on finding some remote Scottish ancestor. All of a sudden.

The other lockdown stir is the row between AstraZeneca and the EU over vaccine supplies. Apaz the yields from AZs EU based factories is not as high as planned and so the company is unable to ship as many vaccines as the EU has ordered. The EU says AZ are contractually bound to ship them the stuff and should let them have some of the UK’s supply. AZ say they aren’t. We aren’t being given enough information to pass judgment here. 

It has been observed that the EU were apparently three months behind the UK in placing an order whilst they haggled over the price and that the UK has invested £12Bn in vaccine research compared with the EUs 2.7Bn Euros (100M per country). I’m staying out of it.

This morning in the kitchen, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something fall in the garden. Upon further examination it turned out to be a female blackbird tossing moss and lichen out of the potting shed gutter looking for food. Of this I approve – saves me having to clean the gutter. Doesn’t do a particularly efficient job so in reality so I do have to clean it, once in a blue moon. Blackbirds eh?

Also this morning I was on the BBC Lincolnshire Breakfast Show chatting to presenter Sean Dunderdale about our optimism for the campervan season ahead. None of this foreign travel thank you very much. Now that we’ve left the EU everyone should stay at home and support British tourism based transportation businesses 🙂 Anne’s Vans forever!

The morning flew by as it is wont to do. I finally got the energy together to pay my tax bill. No point in leaving it to the last minute and find that something goes wrong. I quite often pay it a lot earlier actually just to get it out of the way then I can fuggedaboutit. Also rang Virgin Media to knock £3.50 off my broadband bill. They wanted to put it up! Unfortunately (?) their product is much faster than the copper based alternatives available to me. Bring on a competitive FTTP market. Bit of jargon there that belongs on trefor.net not philosopherontap.

In other news we just joined the caravan and motorhome club. The url is caravanclub.co.uk so the motorhome bit is almost certainly an afterthought. Never thought I’d ever admit to this but some of our mates are members and we are planning a trip to Castleton next year so I just joined. It’s an age thing. Good quality sites I’m told. Stay tuned. Having booked it I realised that it might clash with Shannon and Michael’s wedding in Tobago which will take priority obvs but they haven’t confirmed the date yet so no drama…

I dream of holidays by the sea. Of strolls along the prom stopping off at Davison’s ice cream parlour for a double scoop vanilla and honeycomb. Tea and tea cake at the Harbour Lights. Cold beer sat outside The Creek looking out at the yachts in the marina. Pint of ale in the snug at the Whitehouse. Early morning walks around Fenella Beach and Peel Castle.  Catching the sun over the fishing boats just after dawn. Piles of crab and lobster pots. A stroll along the top of the breakwater looking out for basking sharks and messing about in the rockpools. Fishing from underneath the lighthouse and not catching anything. Watching the lifeboat come in. Waiting for the swing bridge across to the prom to close again. Buying large packs of locally caught scallops from Devereaux the fishmonger near the old train station. A walk up Peel Hill and stopping at the top for a 360 degrees rest. Browsing the shelves of the second hand bookshop. Takeaway curry from the Royal India. Boozy lunch at the Boatyard. Bus into Douglas for a few beers and back.

I dream of holidays by the sea. Can you blame me?

Back in the shed I’ve upped the thermostat to 23℃. 21 was ok but felt it needed just a little more. Outside it is sub zero with a thick layer of ice on the bird bath. The birds have been nibbling away at the fat balls though which is good. Back to a normal day today as the weekend and Monday were filled with submitting an application for an Arts Council grant. All done now. Fingers crossed eh?

In a departure from my normal custom I’m going to tell you a bit about today’s work activity. Today is going to be mostly spent writing a newsletter. It’s all good stuff. Filled with interesting tidbits about Session Routing Engines and number porting in South Africa and Saudi Arabia amongst other exotica. They do number porting a lot better in other countries. 

We have been cleaning our mailing list in preparation for the sending of said news. This process threw up what might be considered an interesting linguistic factoid. The French speaking person managing the process created a number of tabs one of which was labelled “cleaned list”. In her mind this tab comprised of email addresses we did not want to send to. In my mind a cleaned list constitutes addresses that we do want to send to. We’ll have it my way. Thassit on work.

There is no end in sight on the lockdown front. The rate of covid infections appears to have peaked as potentially have the number of hospital admissions. Death though still has its dominion and needs to turn the corner but a small candle has been lit.

Life at home has settled nicely into a lockdown routine. We are lucky. Today Anne is off out looking for food again as there is nothing left in the fridge but a few pickled onions and a couple of mushrooms. I had the last two sausages for breakfast. Hopefully the delivery lorry will have made it through customs overnight and she will be able to queue up with her ration book. It feels as if we should be listening to the wireless for reports of convoys having made it through into port, our own minefields being a danger unforseen when they were being laid.

I have specifically requested Wild Pacific Sockeye smoked salmon and bacon medallions. These are breakfast items but not for consuming together. I rather fancy an omelette tomorrow with smurked saumon on the side. Rick Stein gave me the idea last night when he was in Cornwall. His omelete was not accompanied by salmon but it is the concept that was of interest and not the specific ingredients. 

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Flood of enquiries for Anne’s Vans this afternoon following our appearance on Look North which in turn follows the coverage we got on the BBC News website. I won’t include a link for Look North as iPlayer times them out but the news site is here 

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-55659639?fbclid=IwAR0ad56OqJsbcjepEJH8Q7rcp948IRDjNN9PsUSXOrVq4LxzLRrEmOlcePA

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Night time in the shed. Anne and I have been watching the Imps beat Portsmouth and now I have a bit of time before hay hitting. Sbeen another busy day. There are just three lights on including my cold beer sign. The shed has a very relaxed nighttime ambience. This isn’t to say more mood lighting would not be appropriate but all in good time. When I come across it.

We have been watching a lot more sport during lockdown. Willing to spend the money. It’s something the two of us can do together although Anne has never got her brain around rugby. The shed is the perfect place for watching rugby with the boys but unfortunately it ain’t appnin right now. The 6 nations starts in two weekends time but it will be a lonely vigil. No squeezing into the pub trying to find a good spot. 

It’s been a great day on the Anne’s Vans front. Lots of enquiries on the back of the BBC Look North exposure. Makes me think about what we might do ourselves for a bit of a break. Last summer we hit North Wales. Not everywhere was open post lockdown but we had an enjoyable enough time. Not sure where we might want to go this spring, rules permitting. Might even take a van somewhere, assuming we have availability obvs 🙂

The temperature in the shed was left at 23 degrees Centigrade overnight. This means it is nice and toasty this morning whilst outside it is freezing. Too toasty really. I’ve turned it down a couple of notches and removed my jumper.

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It is now nearly 8pm. Where did that one go? No longer in work mode and watching a guide book programme on Scotland. We are kind of planning a trip up there in September in one of the vans. Lots of rain by the looks of it. Will need to remember to take my coat. Now in Oban. It’s the jump off point for Mull and thence Iona and Staffa. Fond memories of Mull having camped there with Joe and separately stayed at Tim’s gaff when still at Timico. Two extremes of comfort 🙂

My cut off time tonight is 8.30 at which point I have to be back in the hoose to watch University Challenge with Anne. She is v good at UC. Currently I’m hearing that Thomas Cook of holiday tour fame was a Baptist. Steaming in to Tobermory. V nice. Bought a side of smoked salmon from the smokery there once. The distillery was closed. Check out the poem wot I wrote when there with Joe http://www.philosopherontap.com/gortonbuie/

Not used the car in a week. That is good. Ironically had we had much snow I would have been more likely to have driven it just because I could. Not really had to test the 4WD other than when we went for a jaunt to Stourton Woods to see the Strawsons not long after I bought it. Also last summer it wasn’t needed for Beyond The Woods for obvious reasons. The only real use it has had recently is to go to the shops and I’ve been leaving that to Anne. A hidden spinoff benefit to this is that we spend a lot less. I’m the spender of the family.

Although we have no snow it is very cold out  there. V frosty. I woke up in the night thinking about this. What would it have been like in cave man times. We would have had a pile of bearskins or similar on top of us and just had our noses peeking out. Generating lots of frozen breath no doubt. Unless we somehow kept the fire going all night. Dunno how it worked.

So a busy day ahead of us. I have to prepare the beef casserole. Stew? What’s the difference? I also have to do some festival work with Tom. No peace for the wicked. I’ve never really kept a clear separator between work and play. When I worked in an office this blurring tended to result in more work being done whilst at home but not the counterbalancing play at the workplace. Having “worked” from home the last 7 years it is a lot easier to slot in some leisure time during what others might consider to be the official working day. I also somehow squeeze in festival work plus helping Anne with the vans business.

Anne herself is out scraping ice off her car as I write. She doesn’t have a remote control that sorts this out for her. Wossthatallabout?

In the news we are hearing less about the USA now that the orangudon has left Washington and more about covid and Brexshit. Seeing as this is a lockdown diary talking about covid is quite appropriate but it has been relatively quiet on the Brexshit until very near Christmas when negotiations with the EU concerning a “deal” went to the wire. We are now seeing a lot of fallout. The inevitable result of a rushed law with no scrutiny and a weak negotiating position. 

Time will tell but it does feel as if the deal hasn’t gone as well as Bojo had hoped. Suspect that he and his chimpanzee accomplices have been eating too many hallucinatory banana leaves or whatever it is the troupe likes to munch on when sitting around the jungle chattering amongst themselves. They believed their own hype. It is probably fortunate for them that the public has been distracted by the pandemic side show even though that itself could prove to be their nemesis. Enough of this negativity…

OIn the positive front I saw a blue tit munching away at the suet balls on the feeder near the greenhouse. This is good. I did also see a blackbird try and fail to get at the seed dispenser on the apple tree. Maybe it’s only designed for smaller birds. I don’t mind though I also don’t mind feeding the blackbirds. It’s the wood pigeons and rats I don’t want. As I type I see a robin on the deck in front of the shed (for that is my location). I’m sure I’ve got some dried insects for robins somewhere but can’t quite lay my hands on them.

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Couldn’t find the insects but stuck a small handful of bird seed on top of Solomon Owl’s bonce. See if they go for it.

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Beef stew on the go, fire lit and just having a cuppa before heading out into the icy cold wastes that are the streets of Lincoln for a constitutional. Is that a saying anymore?

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Ended up driving to the Ham of Nettle to go for a walk in the fields around the Old Bishop’s place. Now this is a thing. I only found out about this place last week after Anne had been for a walk with, funnily enough, the current Bishop’s wife! I guess Bishops wives know about these places. Whether she looked wistfully upon the grassy mounds that were all that was left of the old gaff I know not. Very interesting place though looking at the information board. A pretty substantial operation in the 13th century or thereabouts which was when the Bish was given it by the King.

We tramped around what actually were icy cold fields for an hour or so returning to the voiture via the beck in the village. When I had parked the car there was plenty of space both in front and behind me. Upon my return someone had carefully reversed in front of me. Must have been someone with OCD as there was loads of room and they didn’t have to park that close. I had to reverse a bit before driving off. Woot! 🙂

One thing that struck us on our walk was that the few shops we saw were closed including the pubs and newsagent. It reminded us that this is what life was like on a Sunday afternoon when we were kids. Absolutely bugger all to do. Kids these days complain that life is boring but back then Sundays really were completely boring.

Back in the hoose and the fire had made the front room lovely and warm. I topped it up with fuel before retiring the shed to do some more work. I know I know.