where art collides philosoperontap

Seven ey em. Eight ey em. There was a gap of one hour between the composition of those two sentences. If you can call them sentences. I thought it was a good idea to start today’s post in bed at the time mentioned but after writing it down ran out of inspiration. Probs decided it wasn’t such a good idea still being a tad dozy. A cup of tea was on its way. Now I am downstairs getting on with the day.

I have a day of doing stuff in prospect. THG is out all day at various functions, weight training, walk with the girls, charity coffee morning, lunch, afternoon craft session in the community room at Waitrose. That kind of thing. It leaves me with a free rein to potter. 

There are no doubt a few jobs I can get on with. Painting the windowsill of the workshop for one. Shifting some planters another and putting the rest of the glasses away in the garage. We have a few boxes of party glasses that are occasionally put to use. Used to borrow them from Waitrose or Tesco but it is a lot easier if you have your own. I think there was one year where we didn’t reserve them early enough and they were out of stock of the glasses we needed for a particular bash.

I also want to get on with making the lifebelt holder for the lake and the DANGER DEEP WATER sign. With lake ownership comes responsibility. Those hedgehogs need to be warned about the watery perils that lie before them. Get it done before winter sets in. I daresay there will be other things that grab my attention.

Feels good being now into autumn. When I went out for dinner in the Woodcocks with the boys last night I threw on a sports coat. I was already wearing jeans. I got there early and sat at our reserved table. It’s a good job J had booked it as a steady stream of punters were turned away as the place was full. 

The Woodcocks is rubbish really but it is conveniently on the way back from the golf course so that’s where we go. 40% off mains last night. I got their discount code off the website earlier in exchange for my email address. Needn’t have bothered as they didn’t ask for the code and gave us the discount anyway. It’s ok though. I use my hotmail address for such purposes. They can spam me until the cows come home and I’ll never see it.

Don’t want to hurry time any more than it is already going but I’m quite looking forward to seeing the first winter at the lake. Rising mists, frosty reed beds and trees around the edge. All v atmospheric. Yet to see my first kingfisher. Bit of competition for Brian. I foresee an afternoon in January or February where we can light a fire pit and gather on the deck looking out over the lake to watch the seasonal winter action. Would be a good excuse to buy a fire pit now that the kadai firebowl is kaput. It served us well.

The kids are all back where they belong. John Berlin, Hannah on honeymoon with George in Morocco and Tom and Joe in Laandan. All is well. It feels like a Saturday but really it is not.

Ciao bebes.

…

Made some good progress with the lifebelt. I reckon it will be Sunday before the reveal. Maybe Monday. Got some acrylic paints coming tomorrow. It will probably be erected with no fuss. No fanfare. It isn’t the sort of thing you invite the press to. A lifebelt is quietly put in place and left there for the benefit of all. Walk away once the job is done and permit yourself a quiet sense of satisfaction. I may yet add a sign that says LIFEBELT.

Simon the plumber arrived at quarter to eight. Slightly earlier than expected occasioning a mad dash (well sort of) to don tee shirt and trousers and get the hell out of the bedroom. We are having one of the radiators removed prior to redecorating. We’ve arrived at that part of the Forth Bridge whose turn it is to be painted again. If they ever take the Forth Bridge down, and it won’t happen in my lifetime, “we” will no longer be able to use that analogy.

Some excellent sourdough toast has been consumed and I have repaired to the conservatoire where I shall shortly take a second cup of tea.

Today our fourth born, John, is heading back to Berlin. It’s been good having him home for a few days. We’ve had a few laughs, been to a wedding, done a few jobs, watched a couple of footie games and today I’ll set off with him to Nottingham East Midlands International Airport whereupon he will be dropped off and left in the care of Ryanair for onward transportation. I have a corporate policy of not flying Ryanair but for John it makes sense. Convenient.

Otherwise, and apart from my usual midday swim, today will be devoted to seeing what jobs THG has in mind for me. See what’s on the jobslist. Maybe nothing. Le weekend is, after all, not so far away. Not that I do jobs on the weekend in particular. Certainly not on the sabbath which is both Saturday and Sunday depending on your perspective on these things. In any case this Saturday is a big day of sport wot with the Liverpool derby at twelve thirty and the England laydees v French demoiselles rugby at three thirty, both of which THG is particularly keen to watch.

A gentle rain has started. With the chance of precipitation at only 30% this must be a good day to get a bet on. At least Dean the window cleaner did some gutter clearing and drainpipe unblocking yesterday. There will be no spectacular waterfalls descending onto the conservatory roof today and in reality the rain is only a few measly drops. In walking to the shed I’d be able to sidestep the raindrops, probs. The humidity detecting extractor fan in the workshop is spinning away. As I speak the few drops have turned into a steady, relaxing light drumming.

Simon the plumber has just appeared in the garden with a yellow hosepipe. He is just about to drain the system. The name Simon the plumber sounds like the English equivalent of Maxim le Forestier. Completely different I know but the thought just came to me. 

Years ago when we only had two small kids we were staying with friends Sarah and Didier in Paris. I had been on tour to Le Mans with Lincoln RFC and joined the family in Paris by train after that leaving the lads to slum it on coach and ferry.

That first night in Paris I asked whether they had any Maxim le Forestier records they could play. They did not but they did put on Ne Me Quittez pas by Jacques Brell which has since made me a lifelong fan. Just playing a bit of Maxim right now. 

On the way home we got to CDG an hour before the flight only to find a huge queue at check in. When we got to the front they told me that the flight was full and that I should have checked in on time. “We would have to catch the next flight at four pm”. I pointed out that we had arrived at the required time but their queue was mahoosive. The reason we wanted the lunchtime flight was in order to get the kids home at a sensible time and that they should bump someone else. They had clearly given our seats away. The attendant totes understood, disappeared behind a screen and returned saying we could go in business class where not everyone had turned up yet. She then spent the next half an hour trying to get us checked in but the “line to London” was down. More likely the BA system. 

Anyway after this it was too late for us to board and she offered us £25 per adult compensation to catch the next flight. I declined this less than generous offer and settled for one hundred and fifty GBP in used notes plus a restaurant voucher with no upper limit. This cheered THG up no end (she wasn’t known as THG in those days) and we spent two out of the four hours we had to wait feeding on fifty quids worth of pizza and orange juice. Remember this was about thirty years ago. Fifty pounds was a fair old wodge at the time.

When we arrived in Manchester my name was called out and Tom and I were met by a member of the BA staff who took us to the office to hand us a brown envelope full of the aforementioned moolah. I trained Tom to respond “take the money” when I said “open the box”.

The delay was not a killer and the compensation was well received especially taking into consideration the fact that the flights had all been booked using air miles.

Right, tea consumed, Simon le plombier has finished and it is time to get on with le jour.

It is totes chucking it down and, father I cannot tell a lie, I like this weather. Sat in the conservatory the roof sounds like a drum and rivers of water are hammering against the glass windows. Well not quite that bad but it does sound as if the gutter is overflowing onto the conservatory roof. Just put on my Tilley hat and went out to check and yes indeed the gutter is overflowing. The drainpipe just isn’t coping. Will need to get Dean the window cleaner to unblock it next time he comes. 

Also checked the shed drainpipe and whilst there is water coming down through it there is just as much overflowing down the outside. I had already decided yesterday that it needed unblocking. To do this I need to unscrew the brackets and completely remove it as it is blocked to about three quarters of its height. That is not a job for this morning.

Hoping to get a swim in today. Was too busy Monday and Tuesday. Lunchtime. Before that I have a few jobs THG wants me to get on with together with half an hour or so of work work.

The shed is brightly lit and from the inside I can see waves of rain descending on the garden. The lake is as full as it has ever been. I am looking forward to its first overflow and subsequently the flooding of the surrounding meadows. The natural silting that occurs when this happens is a great help towards the production of new flowers in the meadows. Well ordinarily it is but this being a new lake there isn’t any silt. That will come in time. Perhaps hundreds of years. We have to be patient. Sometimes you make an investment knowing that it is the next generation who will benefit.

The Tilley has provides the right level of protection against the rain. It is mostly worn to keep raindrops off my glasses but has a wide enough rim to keep much of the body dry. Assuming there isn’t much wind which there ain’t at the mo. Rain is best enjoyed on a windless day. There is a fair bit of movement in the tall trees bordering Lincoln Christs Hospital School over the road. There are now more windfalls than apples left on the tree. They all need gathering. Manãna.

…

Not only has Dean been and cleared the blockage in the drainpipe but he’s cleared the gulley behind the chimney stack and unblocked the shed drainpipe. Result. Also managed 30 mins front crawl and ten mins in the spa/jacuzzi.

A day of rolling up the sleeves in prospect. Borrowing a van and heading to the farm to dismantle some old festival infrastructure. The wood is going to be repurposed, now that I have a workshop. Need to pick up some pallets as well to get going on the compost bins for THG. I envisage two of them side by side and we can then ditch the existing plastic job bought from some diy gaff yonks ago.

Meanwhile all is quiet in the kitchen. My next pot of tea is brewing and THG is finishing off the yoghurt mixed up with some of her very fine granola before tucking in to a couple of croissants. V sophis in this ouse. Tres continentale. I will at some point need to get up and fetch a clean mug as coffee was accidentally poured into my tea mug. Norrabiggie.

Woke up in the middle of the night and must have made a noise as THG asked if I was ok. Said I couldn’t get back to sleep so we put on the shipping forecast on a fifteen minute timer. THG soon dropped off again but I made it through to the end. Can’t remember anything about it though. Gales no doubt, westerly veering southerly later.

Need to pick up a load of windfalls today as next weekend is cider making weekend. If you have any going spare, preferably already picked, feel free to shove them our way. No idea if we have enough manufacturing capacity but we can address that as we get nearer the weekend.

Discovered last night that the panel heater in the shed is kaput. The control panel light comes on but not the heat. There is time to sort it and I have a Dyson fan heater as a backup but it will need to be fixed before we go into hibernation for the winter. It’s the only way we survive the harsh conditions that prevail in the badlands of Lincolnshire where we are exposed to the east winds blowing in from the Siberian tundra. Or is it taiga? Matters not. The log pile has been accumulated and the wood shed has kindling a plenty all tidily (ish) packed in plastic crates that we needed to find something to do with. We should be warm enough.

…

Just nipped in to the shed before picking up the van to find that I’d fixed the heater. Tested it by ramping up the temp and it came on. Did the same thing yesterday but nowt happened. Just hadn’t set the temperature high enough. Turns out it is already quite warm in’t shed. Result.

A beautiful walk to the shed this morning. Stopped by the lake cam but nothing of interest. Did have a couple of vulpine visits over the weekend plus the mum and kid deer were back. See vids. I’ll need to delete the media sometime as most of the pics and vids are of people going back and forth to the shed.

Got my “work” jeans on. I quite like the idea of buying a pair of overalls, especially now that I have a workshop. Brown ones maybe. Will look into that. Might ask Santa for some for Christmas. Or should they be blue? Hmmm. I associate blue overalls with mechanical engineering whereas the workshop is biassed towards wood. Doesn’t preclude the occasional bit of metalwork but were I ever to buy a lathe it would be one of the wood turning variety. I am a million miles away from that right now. Too much else to be getting on with.

The confetti has settled after a wonderful wedding weekend. Ecologically friendly dried rose petals natch. The bride and groom set off contentedly after lunch on Sunday for the first night of their honeymoon. The rest of us collapsed in a smiling exhausted heap. Bath and early to bed.

The bash could not have been better with Hannah’s brothers Tom (poetry), Joe (trumpet and keyboards) and John (sax and keys) playing an active part and George’s brother Harry doing a good job in the best man role. New suits abounded. Don’t think I’ve worn a suit in over thirty years. I have one now that should last the duration. THG looked stunning in her new dress and Hannah took gorgeousness to the next level.

People laughed at all the right moments during the speeches and I was given space to “gush” a little at the achievements of my girl. The one aspect of the wedding over which Hannah had no control.

We had a family meal on the Friday night followed by a singsong which reached a crescendo with a full blown and slightly modified take on Hey Jude where Jude was replaced by George. Against all the odds and recent form I stayed up until the end on both nights until lights out.

The dance band was terrific and had practically all the guests on their feet all evening for non stop bopping. Even aunty Pat and uncle Ted who had just celebrated their diamond wedding anniversary got up and danced. Ties found new homes as bandanas. Even my new “wildflower” bow tie with a matching pocket square. The square stayed firmly in the pocket.

Other than fantastic memories I don’t think we left anything behind but we have come across some specs. If anyone has lost a pair let me know.

…

Two trips to the railway stayshun later and I’m sitting in on a conf call. Back to earth with a bang. Not having to do owt. Just listening. Shed is brightly lit and whilst I’m not yet at the stage of switching on the heat I have to confess I am sporting a pair of jeans and a jumper. Both are fairly tattered. Two of the belt loops on the jeans plus one of the button holes are broken and the jumper is a tattered Fat Face sweater. Yanow what, it’s all about comfort innit.

THG has gone out for a spot of lunch with some pals. They will have plenty to chat about after the weekend. While she is out I have an architect coming for a looksee. Looking at a project for next year. 

In the meantime I’ve put the conf call on mute, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher and brought the recycling bin around the back. Blimmin eck I didn’t realise we had so many coffee cups.

The morning before the big event. We had a v pleasant team breakfast. Roughly thirty of us stayed the night. Then Terry and I shot off in campervan Betty for a quick spin to the Hemswell Antiques Centre. There was a vintage vehicle gathering going on and they waved at us to come in but we didn’t have time to hang around.

Now chillin in the room before it is time to get ready. Going to put a new blade in the razor. Really pushing the boat out here. There is a tree directly outside the window covered in white blossom. Good timing for a wedding.

…

Had my shower and shave and I must say the tension is starting to build. I need to be ready in an hour. Easy enough. It is all very exciting. I’ll be happier when I get the speech out of the way. In my experience there is only so much practising you can do. The adrenaline once you stand up on that stage makes the speech an entirely different prospect. If you get the flow right the speech will look after itself. The practise is to iron out kinks in the flow. The biggest issue is the one off nature of every speech I do nowadays. They take a lot of sorting.

We wake up with a full house. All the kids and partners are home, the last arrival from Berlin getting in from East Midlands Airport at twelve thirty ey em last night. What a great feeling. Thanks to Robbie Vashak for giving our John a lift from the airport. Bumped in to him at Berlin airport. Result. Saved Tom a trip.

Everyone is excited. Will be a relaxed start to the day, for most. THG is hitting the pool for a spot of lane swimming at seven thirty. At some stage breakfast will be taken. There is luggage and the guitar case to be retrieved from the attic. Joe restrung my geetar last night. He and Lucy made the nineteen oh six with three minutes to spare. Blimmin tube strikes!

Joe and I are picking up campervan Betty from Coops’ garage at eleven. A handy runaround and useful backdrop for some wedding photos. We also need it to supplement Anne’s Peugeot 208 which isn’t big enough to transport everything that has to be taken to Hemswell.

The wedding venue is Hemswell Court. The officers mess of RAF Hemswell, a ww2 Lancaster bomber base. There is video footage on youtube. Check it out. The venue has bags of character. Hannah is in a very relaxed state of mind having spent Wednesday evening and all day yesterday at a spa. The nuptials don’t happen until tomorrow but we get there this pm to do some prep. Right now, all is calm.

Up at the relatively sedate time of oh seven fifty eight. Actually I was dressed and down slightly earlier but I am now sat at the kitchen table, as I am won’t to do, at the aforementioned time, before embarking on breakfast. On this occasion I am going to indulge in some bacon and a slice of sourdough toast. It is not always thus. A second pot of tea has appeared, as if by magic but really due to the generous attentions of THG.

Just two days to go until our big family wedding. The speech has been practiced but will benefit from a couple more run throughs. Don’t want to have to resort to notes do we? It’s a bit like learning a song on the guitar. If you learn it off by heart you can put more feeling, emotion, into the finished article. I used to do quite a lot of public speaking. Conferences mostly. Nowadays if I ever do one it is a one off and such speeches don’t benefit from the fine tuning brought about by repetition. I have no interest in doing talks anymore but obvs one’s daughter’s wedding is different kettle of fish innit.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

The phrase “different kettle of fish” originated from the earlier expression “pretty kettle of fish” or “fine kettle of fish,” both referring to a muddled or messy situation, which likely came from the literal custom of preparing a variety of fish in a large cooking pot. The idiom “different kettle of fish” emerged later, in the 20th century, to denote an entirely distinct and separate matter from the previous one

Thought I’d look it up so that you don’t have to. In my case the 20th century version is the right one to choose.

In other news THG reports that the water butt by the potting shed is full to the brim after last night’s rain. This is good. The rain wasn’t such good news for the students back for the Lincoln University graduation ceremonies yesterday. Son in law in waiting, George and I popped out for a quick pint and clocked quite a number of proud but bedraggled looking sets of parents being dragged around the pubs by their offspring. By the time we finished, said parents were being dumped by their little darlings to head out into the night with their mates leaving mum and dad to go home for dinner/back to the hotel to change out of their restrictive glad rags and into something more comfortable (I daresay).

There is more other news. You hear it here as it happens. Our shower room shower has just conked out. Typical innit. There will be eight of us in the house tonight. Don’t worry. Lincoln Plumbing and Heating, Lincoln’s finest shower fixing specialists (ccSimon Forshaw) are on the case and someone will be on their way this afternoon.

Stay tuned…

The weather has changed this morning. I realise the weather is always changing where we are but I felt it was a significant enough change for me to mention it. I may even put on a pair of long trousers today, just for a change. I don’t think I’d like to live somewhere where the weather is constantly nice all year round. It isn’t that I don’t like warm weather. It’s just that I like change. The changes in the seasons.

We picked a load of apples yesterday. The nice ones will be properly stored to see us in vitamin c through the long winter months ahead. The manky ones will be crushed and squeezed for their juice to make cider.

The lake cam picked up a first for our garden last night. We had a couple of what appear to be muntjac deer appear through the fence. Doe with fawn. Don’t know where they exited the garden afterwards. Presumably there have been other deer visitations but before now we didn’t have the spy tech in place to record the event. What next I wonder? 🙂 What is quite pleasing is that the solar tech that powers the lake cam seems to work quite well. The internal battery does begin to drain overnight but by the time I look in the morning it is back up to 100%. 

The camera only has a 32GB memory which seems to be consumed at the rate of a gig a day but that is largely down to it picking up human activity in the garden. It is easy enough to download the media you want to keep and delete the rest and when we are away it should only detect wildlife. And burglars.

Was in the shed by eight this morning having breakfasted well on two excellent slices of toast. Seeded sourdough. The seeds pop in the toaster. We like the sound of them popping and it usually signals that the toast is ready. Sourdough, for me, is exclusively used for toasting. I prefer “ordinary” bread for sandwiches. My go to sarnie is ham or ham and mustard but cheese and onion or pickle is also good. Has to be strong cheddar. I don’t mind other fillings such as tuna or smoked salmon or even chicken with stuffing and, if available, a dribble of gravy.

All is now quiet.

Well it was quiet. I can hear a car somewhere. School dropping off time is upon us. Remember those days? Ah yes I remember it well.

PS the title is an in joke 🙂

Morning all. Granola gobbled. Not really. The phrase just seemed to roll off the tongue. One doesn’t gobble up THG’s very fine homemade granola. One savours it. Ya shouldn’t gobble your food anyway. You were told that as a kid.

Another fine day in prospect and indeed I am going to try my hand at some painting. Only a bit of primer though. Not fine art. Not even using the watercolour set, easel and posh cotton paper I bought as a project during lockdown but have never had out of the box. One day…

THG alerted me to the location of the masking tape which is a strong indication that I should use said decorating consumable when performing the task. Shouldn’t take me too long. Want to get two coats down this morning but see how it goze innit.

In other news I ordered some food grade lubricant for the apple press. Gotta look after your tools. It had a successful first outing of the season yesterday but the plan is to go full on cider making the weekend after next. A team of experts is being assembled. It is a fair bit of work and a job for at least two persons. That weekend is also when we sample the cider made last year. Our first attempt. Fingers crossed. Apaz Phil Clark has a treeful going spare to add to the fun/workload. I’m sure in times gone by the farmer would have thrown a party for all the helpers once all the apples were safely gathered, crushed and pressed.

My diary for today is totes clear. It does have the usual “go swimming” entry just before lunch but last night I got a text message from Total Fitness saying they were temporarily closed due to a power outage. Can’t find any more info on it and there is nowt online. You’d have thought they would at least have changed their answerphone message with details.

Thassitfernowciao

Nodded off in front of the tennis last night. THG had already gone in the house when I woke up. Didn’t wait until the end. He won. Alcaraz. But there again you probably already knew that. This isn’t a news channel. You probs saw it on the BBC. Or simlar. I dunno. A very likeable chap, Alcaraz.

Lovely autumn morning. This afternoon Tom and I are picking windfalls to press some apple juice. The zoider making can wait until after the wedding. Plenty more to come. In the meantime I have some admin to do. Bloomin tedious. I’ve printed the contract to better examine it. Sometimes it is easier to look at bits of paper than to see it on a screen. 

Was lying in bed in a semi awake haze. Two o’clock ish in the morning. Thought I heard a loud sound. A bit as if someone was dragging a table across an uncarpeted floor. I thought it was clear enough to get meself out of bed and go and investigate. No sign of anything in the house although I didn’t check the attic. Looked at the cameras outside. Nooothing. V odd. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe it was a car passing by on the road in front of the house. Just thought I’d share that with you.

This morning I am pushing the boat out regarding breakfast. THG has retrieved a sausage for me from a freezer in’t garej. I’ll be treating meself to that together with the last two bits of smoked bacon and a slice of sourdough toast. Maybe two slices. They aren’t particularly big. 

No rush though. I don’t need the sausage to defrost as that is what microwaves are for. We are running low on brown sauce but are ok for today and THG has an expedition to LIDL planned for after tomorrow’s weight lifting classes at the gym to restock.

Rediscovered an interesting read last night. I’ve been rearranging my bookshelves and came across The Episcopal Registers of St Davids 1397 – 1518. The latin originals plus, very handily, a translation made for The Honourable Society of Cymmrodorion in the year 1917. You’d have thought they would have better, more pressing things to do in 1917 but there you go. I’m glad they went to the effort.

I had already flicked through this tome as a curiosity but I wasn’t sure what I’d do with it. However last night in scanning through its pages I realised that many of the entries were made on behalf of the Bishop from his Inn at the Strand in London. Moreover they often involved giving permissions to clergy to absent themselves from their Welsh parish for a year. For example on 17th November 1398 Sir Henry Cottesmore, Rector of the parish church of DYNAS IN KEMMES was given the year off in order to attend the services of the noble lady of Audley, whoever she was. Could probs look her up.

The point is that not only was the Bishop of St Davids absent from his diocese but he was happy for his pals in the clergy to do the same whilst still taking the rents and tithes raised to fund the presence of a pastor in that church. The bish in this instance was a chap called Guy, fwiw. You can imagine that a pub in central London held far more attractions for him than some remote god forsaken, or at least bishop forsaken, diocese in the far west of Wales. These people would bung a local curate a tenner a year or less to sit in on their behalf.

The diocese of St Davids was typically used as a stepping stone to get “better placed” jobs in English cathedrals and it was rare for the bishop to spend much time there as it was not a wealthy living. They rarely spoke Welsh.

On the other hand, and I don’t know if it is the same bishop, I read later that he was going through the process of sacking some rectors for never having been seen in their parishes.

I have volume one of a three volume set so I’ve now ordered the other two. These books don’t have an index of names in the back so I’ll be working my way through each page looking for mentions of places that interest me. Keep me busy innit. I’d be knackered if I didn’t have the translations.

I’ll obvs keep you informed when I find other exciting tidbits. Stay tuned 🙂

Great to be home again and having breakfast with THG. Bacon sarnie. Toasted. Been living on croissants this week in Brussels. No point in thinking about cooked breakfasts when in Yoorp. Will need to stock up on breakfast ingredients as the house is going to start filling up with visiting offspring as of tomorrow. Wedding week build up. V exciting tbh. Glad I have a week at home in the run up to the big day. Le grand jour as they say. Well I do anyway. Just did.

I feel a day of relaxation is in prospect. Appropriate. Bit of pottering about. Might buy a shirt, as one does. Chesters in the Bail. THG is keen to watch England play the mighty Andora. Could be good for a laugh. The only issue is whether I really want to subject myself to two hours of intense boredom. I could always have my book with me for some distraction. Not finished the one about the dissolution of the monasteries yet. Will let you know how it ends. Whodunnit innit!

Sat in da Eurostar lounge in Brussels Midi. Interesting to note how many people trying to blag their way in. Can’t actually see them as there is a wall between me and the receptionist but I can hear the conversation. “You can pay to upgrade to first class but only on the platform before you board ze trane”.

TBH whilst the lounge is handy and in all fairness fairly relaxing the reason for getting a first class ticket is to bypass the often lengthy queues for check in. In the afternoon the free champagne also helps while away the journey. The food is generally not worth the effort.

This morning it’s a ten thirty departure, brought forward from ten to eleven to accommodate slow running on parts of the line in France. This being the case I am on sparkling water instead of champagne. Will be boarding soon. Rewind. It’s now going at the normal time. I just checked with reception.

I’m back in shorts and tshirt. I’ve done the dapper bow tie already this trip. Next opportunity will be Hannah & George’s wedding. Eight days to go.

When I get to Kings Cross I have the usual two hour wait for the Lincoln train which is at fourteen oh six. Northbound express direct into the heart of the city.

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Ya gorra laugh.

The lounge is full of people talking. To themselves. On their phones with headphones or buds. Not me. I do have my Bose phones with me to listen to some sounds on da trane.

Toddler sat opposite the aisle tucking in to a bit of cake whilst the parents stare into their devices. The mother is sporting white socks with HOT MOM written in red around the top.

Question: If you had a pet pig what would you call it?

Beautiful autumnal day. Raining. I’ve watered the greenhouse but that is all. I’m off on a jaunt to Brussels today and just have no idea what to wear 🙂 Shorts are perfect for when it is wet but there was one time I went and THG and I met the gaffer and his mrs in a posh restaurant. It was a hot summer and I was in shorts and Hawaiian shirt, natch. We were first to arrive but there was a problem. There was a dress code. This didn’t really become apparent until the others got there and it was then openly mentioned. I offered to nip back to our hotel to change but in the end they stuck me with my back to the wall and legs under the tablecloth.

I do quite fancy wearing one of my new bow ties but that means wearing a collared long sleeved shirt. The rain has muddied the waters so to speak. Were it not raining then a shirt and sports jacket with chinos would have been fine with the bow tie.

I think I’ve decided. Bow tie it is.

…

Coach E is empty. A few seats reserved further down the line. My table has no other reserved seats which is how we like it innit. The attendant just commented that it was obvious that the kids had gone back to school. V quiet.

Funny how life changes when the kids start school again. It’s as if someone has flicked a switch. Yay, school time again 🙂 Lots of larnin and hanging with your mates in the playground (ok yard). Homework yay. 

A large crowd is held up at the railway crossing barriers as the train rolls by.

For lunch I have opted for the ploughmans grazing box which is reasonably good train fare (geddit?). The only trouble is I am not in the least bit hungry although it is early for lunch. Upped the mounjaro dose on Friday which seems to be kicking in. Just had toast for brekkie. Grazing is the right approach for lunch. I’ll leave the lettuce and purple coleslaw or whatever it is. Gawd knows how I’m going to get on in Brussels. I’ll have to insist on designer meals where the portion size is miniscule and you are paying for the art on the plate rather than the bellyfull. I’ll leave the grazing until I get nearer to Kings Cross.

Just passed a field near Collingham full of some plant or other. Green stuff with white bits. Almost as if it is just weeds. Couple of dog walkers going in opposite directions. Train slows almost to a halt as we approach Newark Crossing East Jn (thanks RTT) but then picks up speed again turning on to the main line and past the water pumping works.

All is calm.

…

15.04 Eurostar direct into the heart of Brussels. Coach 16, seat 25. I’ve moved mind you to the table opposite. I was on one of those single seats but an empty table for four is much more comfortable. You can spread out and there is room to have your drink on the table at the same time as your laptop.

We get in to Midi at around six whereupon I’ll find my way to the Radisson Red to dump my gear before heading out into the night. The Radisson is not my usual pad in Brussels. I normally stay at a Hilton but this one is close to the office and more convenient for hobbling there in the morning.

Listening to Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and a few other Beatles faves. The day it came out John Peel played Sgt Pepper non stop back to back for the duration of his radio show. It was the first LP I bought as a sixteen year old (or simlar). I was only five when it was released. One of the greatest albums of all time. groundbreaking.

The portion of champagne they just dished out was derisory. I noticed they’d given the bloke in seat 31 a much fuller glass so I asked them to top it up. Honestly! 

As we hurtle south the rain seems to have stopped. It was raining in London before we entered the first tunnel and upon emerging blinking eyes into the daylight at the other end it was indeed sunny. We must now be in Kent. in fact we have just crossed the Medway. Bloomin zoomin.

The bald guy with the tattoos and a beard in seat 42 has just put his ipad away and has now opened his phone. It’s one of those folding screen jobs. I suspect he is looking at Spotify. Or a vid. He opted for one of those small bottles of red. I only have red when I’m eating and at three twenty three pm that ain’t apnin. Now he has two phones. One in each hand. That’s multitasking! 

31 has nearly finished his champagne. Steady on boy. Long day ahead. Maybe he’s an alc. His laptop is open. In my experience people are often looking at business plans or sales forecasts or simlar when they are on the Eurostar. The connectivity is almost non existent so it has to be on some local doc. He has now finished his champagne. In the space of a few sentences. It’s not a race you know!

I didn’t bring a book with me on this trip. Mistake really, bearing in mind the aforementioned crap connectivity. This is because my current read, which is about the dissolution of the monasteries, is quite heavy in both senses of the word. So much info to take on board I often find myself rereading paragraphs. I’m only about a quarter of the way through it. Very interesting though.

We must be in the channel tunnel. It’s gone dark out. Unless it is a solar eclipse I wasn’t aware of. I’d surely have read all about it. Would have been all over the news. Mind you I do try not to listen to the news. Did manage to catch the shipping forecast last night. With THG being away there’s nowt to stop me sticking the wireless on if I am awake in the night.

It is reassuring that the shipping forecast is always the same. There’s always a gale somewhere. Last night it was Viking, North Ouitsera and South Ouitsera. Becoming cyclonic later in Viking. This is good to know. Essential actually. Especially if you were thinking of heading to Viking in your small yatch. Or even your robust fishing smack that can take all weathers. I’d probs be feeling a touch of the mal de mêr meself.

Seats 42 and 35 are tucking in to the meal. Number 31, he of the necking of the champagne, has declined. Ditto. I have some cashews and cranberries.

The Eurostar traverses WW1 territory. Large open fields with the occasional wood or coppice. I have in the past noticed war graves but you have to be looking out of the window at the right time. The speed of the train is in marked contrast with the pace of advance of those in the trenches.

As we grow nearer to our final destination a mist has descended over the fields surrounding the train. It feels as if it is getting dark earlier, which of course it is. Bloke in seat 35 is now on a page entitled Executive Summary. The iit is Total divestmentsc and dividends vs prior assumptions. !! Tbh I’m glad I’m out of all that. Bring on the History of Carmarthenshire, lakes, sheds, workshops and other non executive summary related activities. Not forgetting my morning swim plus the Thursday afternoon golf.

We have arrived in Lille, characterised by driving rain and a full set of 4G bars on my phone. Most of this trip has near to zero data connectivity. So little it isn’t worth trying. Especially the on train wifi where all the passengers share one already pathetic cellular connection.

When I get to Brussels I’ll have to get some dosh. Moolah. Euros. Taxis can be hit and miss when it comes ot credit card payments Whilst they are probably trying it on I don’t mind handing over the folding stuff. It’s one of the few times I use cash. That and paying the window cleaner.

They have just brought me a champagne refill. When I was discussing this possibility with the staff I jokingly suggested the glass needed filling to the brim. Fair play this is exactly what they did.  A smile works wonders.

The area around Lille station looks a bit grim. Suspect this the case for many stations everywhere. Seat 31 got off at Lille btw. Someone has to I guess. The traffic on the motorway looks a bit on the heavy side, in one direction at least. Folk on their way home after a desk chained day.

All you need is love.