where art collides

Day three of feeling positive. Well testing positive anyway. Ah well. Symptoms are on the wane. Actually slept quite well, ably assisted by listening to an Infinite Monkey Cage podcast. Twice. Two different editions at different times of the night.

I like the Infinite Monkey Cage. The only problem now is that there are two podcasts that I not only didn’t hear the end of but have no idea how far into the programme I got. Ya gotta laugh.

I will defo be better for next weekend and the snooker. We shall see. 

The spare room is quite cosy. We actually have four spare rooms. One of them is now devoted to sewing and another is the overflow sewing room. So really only spare when the house begins to fill up as it is wont  to do from time to time.

We like it when the house fills up even though it means a disruption to our otherwise idyllic pre-kid/post-kid existence. At least we have enough space not to be on top of each other even with a full house.

This morning I got up and made the tea which you should take as a sign of progress.

…

Am now enjoying a quiet house. Sunday morning. The wireless set has been switched off. I’m sure it is not good for it to be on all the time. All I can hear is the ticking of the clock. Tick, tock, tick, tock. You know how it goes. Someday the clock will stop ticking… 

Whether this comes after a tick or a tock we will never know for certain. This is partly because the chances of anyone being in the room and listening when it ticks or tocks it’s last are pretty slim and partly because I’m not sure which is the tick and which is the tock. 

The other point worth mentioning is that if there are more than one of you in the room you can’t really hear the clock. And finally I’m not really sure why we have the clock anyway. It has a very small face and I can’t even see it from where I am sat. 

Enough of this horological distraction. Time to move on.

The unadulterated binge watching of history documentaries on BBC iPlayer has been made possible by Covid-19.

I last binged watched the four first series’ of Bangers and Cash but have not watched it since. That is the danger of binge watching anything. A History Of Britain by Simon Shama is not in this category as series 3 ends with relatively recent history and both Si and I will be long dead before anyone looks back in the same way at present day occurrences.

The great thing is being able to sit in front of the telly during the day without thinking I was skiving. I can’t imagine that any daytime TV is worth watching but iPlayer is different. I will also have the use of the shed this afternoon when its current occupant disappears off to the gig he has organised at The Drill.

…

Settled in front of the TV for a day of covid survival. I have a lemsip and a laptop to keep me company and a gig symmetrical line to communicate with the outside world 🙂 The whole world is there to keep me company.

I uploaded a short video of a cup of tea earlier. Ordinarily I might look a couple of times in google photos before it had uploaded. With my fttp connection it was already there by the time I opened the laptop. Internet access as it should be.

Seven Years in Tibet (John Williams) playing in the shed. Tres relaxant or words to that effect. You definitely get the Asian undertones.

Wouldn’t want to go to Tibet for seven years mind you. I’d have to get someone in to keep the grass down. Or turn it into a wilderness garden which I guess would be doable and the cheaper option. 

It isn’t going to work. I’ve only just got back from a trip for goodness sake.

A gorgeous frosty morning out there with clear skies. I would appear to be over the jet lag and the stomach upset I had yesterday has gone. I heavily suspect the overcooked bangers and mash at the Wig and Mitre consumed at the scouts annual leaders’ night out on Friday. The sausages were tough suggesting they had been cooking for a long time and potentially even reheated which might account for the lurgy.

Today will see a flurry of packing in readiness for my next bout of jet lag. You will no doubt hear more of this. The use of the word flurry is somewhat inaccurate as I like to take my time over packing for long trips. On this occasion I am leaving at 7am on Tuesday so a relaxed approach to filling the suitcase is in prospect. 

A two week trip merits taking a suitcase. For last week’s jaunt to Florida I only had carry-on luggage which facilitated a quick getaway from the airport on arrival. For the return leg I opted to check in one of the bags which proved costly in time at the other end. No matter.

The house is noisy this morning. Sounds of an electric toothbrush mingle with BBC Radio 4 upstairs and contrast with the Hovis advert on Classic FM. The music isn’t called ‘the Hovis advert’ but I don’t know the actual name of the tune and can’t be bothered to find out either by googling or getting up off my arse to look at the radio display.

The day has offered a relaxed start. There are locally sourced breakfast ingredients in the refrigerator and food preparation will commence in due course. 

All arrangements are in place for the next trip. I just need to sort ground transportation from Cancun airport to Playa Del Carmen but there is no urgency and it may just be a matter of grabbing a cab. This will be the last international journey for a while, the next one being a weekend visit to Llandudno for the final of the Welsh Open Snooker Championships. Cool or what? 🙂

…

There are a few jobs, apart from packing, that are required (by command from a higher authority) to be done. We have two overflow bins for recycling that need their contents moving to the brown recycling bins for onward dispersal. I also need to go to the tip (municipal recycling centre) with a load of plastic stuff that has been hanging around the front for some time. Should also drop the drain rods back at Simon’s. So you see it isn’t all about glamorous international travel.

Reality is I am trying to cut down on travel although I know it doesn’t look like that 🙂 My, admittedly part time, work gets me around on occasion and we still have some planned big trips, not the least of which is 5 weeks in France for the Rugby World Cup from the start of September. The most exciting bit of that trip is not actually knowing when I’ll be heading back across the channel. Open ended jaunt. Why not?

…

Jobs all done. Fire lit and crackling away in the grate. Quite appropriate for a cold winter’s day. I am wearing a warm and cosy woolly pully. It feels as if I should have a cup of hot chocolate to hand but this is not the case.

‘tas been a beeootiful day in Lincoln. Started sub zero but gradually warmed to, oo, three or four degrees by tea time. For the uninitiated, tea time is three thirtee. For those in the know, it is also three thirtee. Note new spelling. Sfine.

Somewhat sluggish here. Should have gone out for some exercise.

Dusk, a periodic visitor, has moved into the vacuum between the shed and the house. The shed is otherwise illuminated only by a pair of monitors and my new Lagunitas sign, a truly worthy addition to the interior lighting arrangement.

The switch for the Lagunitas sign has been made easily accessible and held in place by a couple of cable clips which is an improvement on its predecessor, a mere ‘COLD BEER’ sign that required me to reach under the shelving to turn on. This only matters to me.

Start packing tomorrow for t’ next trip. ‘sit for a while then.

Seat 1E BA208 MIA to LHR. V comfortable. It’s the new seat. Newer than on the way out anyway. I’ll be sleeping most of the journey. Just get a few champagnes and cognac in early on. No nosh. Ate in the Flagship lounge. Burger and fries. Bit of a trek from the gate. Also flight was delayed and the gate was v warm and stuffy. Not ideal. Moreover a drip started where I was sat and I had to stand up. Sbeen a whirlwind trip. Seems a long time since we arrived in Miami. Off home for a cuddle with Anne. And a proper cup of tea. Taxiing now. There is a baby in first. Row behind me. Will need to root out earplugs. Just in case. Would anyway.

…

Fantastic night’s kip. Woke up with two hours to go of a seven and three quarters hours flight and went to the loo. Back to sleep again for another hour and a quarter. Perfect timing. Changed back from pyjamas to shorts and t shirt and bunged my jumper on, everything back in the bag, mug of tea and I’m ready to hit the arrivals lounge.

…

Skipped the arrivals lounge. Took a while for my hold bag to come through. It was carry on on the way out but I figured I could do without the weight to lug around in the airport. In consequence I gave the arrivals lounge a miss and made it to kings cross with roughly forty five minutes to spare. Charles rocked up with my new neon sign – pics later.

The train is rammed. Not sure what’s going on here.

Walk, don’t walk. I crossed the road in front of the hotel to the beach. To the left of me were sun loungers camped on by hotel guests who had had a ‘resort fee’ imposed on their room rate and felt they should get their value for money. I didn’t bother.

Standing on the beach, staring out to see the next landfall is the island of Abaco in the Bahamas and after that Western Sahara. Didn’t realise that was a country. A vast emptiness by the looks of the map. Not somewhere to be stranded without water and protection from the sun. Obvs.

A luxurious position of having plenty of time to prepare for the journey ahead. I am sat inside the room with the door open to the balcony. It’s too exposed to the sun out there. 

On the ground floor of the hotel there is a Mexican restaurant. Top notch beef tacos with habanero sauce and a side of refried beans for lunch fair play. Stayed off the pop. V sensible me!

Fort Lauderdale is quite a noisy place today. Sounds like lots of building work going on. They call it progress. It is a Wednesday, apparently.

Sat in a windowless conference room in a Fort Lauderdale hotel. The speaker is a retired analyst with 47 years communications industry experience. His level of detail is high. 

The first thing that springs to mind is that how does one cope with having spent 47 years working essentially in one, albeit hugely evolving, space and then stopping. My second thought is how boring.

In all fairness his one headline message is quite good. I won’t trouble you with the message.

I have one hour and forty five minutes left of conference time, finishing at noon EST. The flight home is at 21.30 and checkout is 4pm fair play. There is clearly a window of opportunity to relax and prepare mentally for the journey home.

A careful packing strategy is called for. The United Kingdom is a somewhat cold place to be at the moment whereas Florida is, following the dip in temperature last weekend, back to its usually very pleasant shorts and t shirt weather.

I need a three sets of clothing strategy: Florida, plane and UK. Hawaiian shirt, comfortable t shirt and woolly jumper. Haven’t actually brought a warm jumper with me. Layers will have to do it. The warm clothes will have to be readily accessible when I land in London. 

My mind has clearly wandered away from Unified Communications.

Yawn. Headsets. Yawn. Poly/HP sales pitch. Woot!

The audience is meant to be the service provider industry. In reality 75% of the people in the room are vendors rather than service providers.

Twas wild night in shire. Blowy. Early start. Sleepless set alarm. Tea cup early. Station drop. Awaiting bacon roll. Four just walked past me to next carriage! Mine arrived. Not particularly good. Serves purpose.

Long day ahead.

Nuarque arrivée. Blameless platformed passengers bear coats. Cold. Brought my Black Yak beanie. Needless Miami. Final destination. Airport meet Joe Marion at. Few sherberts. Late for me.

Sky grows lighter. Clouds, medium grey. Shade twenty five.

Half way to London. Just leaving town. Dressed comfortably for the flight. Flight of the Trefor. Put on phones. Listen to fave tunes. Need to consider downloading some vids for flight. Rarely anything I want to watch on the in flight entertainment. Not my thang.

In my own world on the underground 

The Express train for Heathrow Airport pulls gently away from the platform and gradually picks up speed. I am alone in the compartment. Three members of staff join me en route to their shift in Terminal five.

First Class check in is a dream.

We breeze through security to the haven that is the Concorde lounge. Leisurely breakfast sets up the day.

…

Slept five hours on the plane. Good kip. A pot of tea before landing and 15 somewhat chaotic mins from the gate to the exit from security. None of the escalators were working occasioning large queues to get onto the stairs. Took Charles almost two hours. The difference was entirely down to Global Entry versus non Global Entry. There was only one passport booth open for ‘foreign’ arrivals whereas Global Entry had two. Hooray for Global Entry.

Picked up the v cool Mustang convertible hire car which friend Joe Marion who had met me off the plane drove to the hotel. Took us a while to figure out how the valet parking worked but we soon ended up in a bar called Cucu’s Nest just down the street. Bit noisy so moved on to the National Hotel over the road. Joe (son Joe not the one I met last night) and I are staying there a couple of nights in early February to finish off our dad and lad trip.

The pianist and chanteuse in the bar at the National were also quite noisy but we weren’t moving again. Also I was only wearing a tshirt whereas a sweater would have been totally appropriate. Not warm inside or out – air con versus January weather.

Headed on a bit of a road trip to the keys today so will dress a bit warmer. 

Huevos Rancheros breakfast beckons.

Catch ya later.

Patrolled the first floor of the Davies mansion this morning at 5.30am. Was listening out to see if I could hear any signs of squirrels returning to the attic. Don’t think I could hear anything but the mind certainly plays games on you. I suspect any audible sounds were my stomach or something outside the house. 

Reminds me when, as yoof of 17, I was on night watch on the sail training schooner the Malcolm Miller. We were in the English channel and I kept imagining I could see something in the distance. Was only my eyes playing games.

There is something quite magical about being up at that time of day. Don’t recall exactly the time but it would have been something like 2am. Let’s say 4 bells on the middle watch. Cup of hot chocolate to keep you going.

I just looked up the Malcolm Miller. She was sold in the year 2000 along with her sister ship the Winston Churchill which does fill me with some melancholy. I would have sailed on her around 1979. They must have reached the end of their useful service and have now been replaced by other sailing ships. Strange that a ship, which we traditionally refer to as feminine, would have male names. Slifeinnit. I’d love to go again.

Walking around the house this morning I stopped to look out of the windows of various bedrooms. It’s amazing how much traffic there is at that time of day. Our own cars looked lifeless in the wet front drive. Sleeping beasts waiting to be brought into life.

In other news got the nod that my certificate of air quality is on its way:

“Nous vous prions de bien vouloir trouver en pièce jointe votre facture relative à votre commande de certificat de qualité de l’air concernant le véhicule immatriculé xxxxxxx.

Votre certificat sera expédié prochainement par courrier à l’adresse de livraison indiquée lors de la commande.

Dans l’attente, cette facture vous permet de justifier de votre démarche et du classement de votre véhicule.

Veuillez agréer, Madame, Monsieur, nos salutations distinguées.

Le service de délivrance des certificats de qualité de l’air”

Need it apparently when entering certain conurbations in La Belle France. Was (surprisingly) relatively painless to apply for and considering I wasn’t totes sure what some of the questions in French were really asking me my form filling seems to have worked. Bien.

When I was at school we had to study a foreign language. The choice was usually French or German and I went for the former. I naturally assume that most people, at least in my age bracket, had to do the same. It surprises me how many folk I know have little understanding of any foreign language. 

All our kids studied French and one of them took it to degree level. When I listen to said offspring speak French I am amazed at her accent. I don’t really bother trying to get the accent right. My philosophy is that as long as they can understand what I’m trying to say then that is fine. N’est pas? Shrugs shoulder.

Dois y aller. il est temps de faire le thé 🙂

PS I did run google translate on the email – just to be sure 🙂

…

Later, the pesky squirrel has been heard again. Need to persevere with the hunt.

Waiting for the shed to warm up. I don’t think it is particularly cold out but it has become my customer and practice to switch off the panel heater overnight in order to save the planet. I also turn off any LEDs (printer and screens) but that is more a light pollution issue. I don’t want to be able to see lights on at the bottom of the garden when the shed is empty and it is dark. The switch and AP are not visible from the house so that is ok.

It is interesting how light pollution is creeping into our lives. When we moved into this house a quarter of a century (gosh) or so ago the previous occupant had fitted electrical sockets with red LEDs which I thought was a bit over the top. However we now also have two showers, and two APs that glow in the dark, the latter in blue. I have been able to switch off the RING doorbell chimes’ LEDs.

I quite like the idea that during the night a house should be in total darkness. We would have to move to the country and ditch the aforementioned appliances in order to do this. This would come with huge downsides: crap broadband, one bus service a week etc. It ain’t gonna happen. The allotments out the back will have to do 🙂

Where we live right now I have occasionally caught a bus from town but it isn’t too far to walk and I rarely go into downtown Lincoln. Far too many people, you can’t walk in a straight line and it is full of the same high street brands you see in any town in the country. There is nothing there for me.

The other thing about living in the countryside is that a village these days will often not have a pub. How do people cope. I’m not exactly a regular pub goer anymore, since covid got me out of the habit and my keto diet kicked in but a village is not a place to live unless it has a church, a pub and a village shop. I’d only attend the former for weddings and funerals etc but the others I’d make a point of frequenting. I would even consider taking a daily paper. FT probs, at least at the weekend.

Keep meaning to subscribe to the FT. Might get around to it. My subscription to the Caravan and Motorhome Club (£50 a year and used once in two years) comes with a monthly magazine that I never read and intend shortly to shred and consign to the compost bin. Not getting the mag once a month will be a step forward. I keep getting emails pushing caravan reversing courses and other such items of a highly relevant nature, at least for the enthusiastic weekend caravanner. Not moi.

Most of our pals now have motorhomes. We have vintage VW campervans that are uber cool but don’t have onboard toilets and showers. Sometimes I wish I had a motorhome like the others but we just wouldn’t use it. When we go to the South of France for a month in September we aint taking a van and are probably in for three grand’s worth of accommodation costs plus a mortgage’s worth of fuel. 

The others, in their motorhomes will use at least as much fuel but lower site costs. I dunno. So we will have spent a few bob more (in largely very nice accommodation) but not had to shell out forty grand of the vehicle plus the annual maintenance and running costs. Obvs we will probably spend more on evening meals but half our booked accommodation is self catering villas etc so the difference wouldn’t be that great. Also we are there for the rugby. The cost of the beer is not going to be insignificant.

New jobs list started for 2023. I’ve carried some jobs over. These jobs rarely have a deadline. Obvs they would always be done before any deadline 🙂

Looking forward to an austere start to the year in stark contrast to the excesses of the somewhat extended Christmas period. The austerity will not be massively long lived as we are off out on both Friday and Saturday nights but hey. Gotta live the life.

The last of our visitors go home today. Peace in our time. I remember when we as a family used to visit mam and dad they would always be excited to see us but would also happily wave us off with a deep sense of relief when we left for home.

I’m quite pleased to announce that I am over my cold. Typical innit. Just as the holidays finish. Thanks a bunch. Ah well. Never mind.

…

Dropped the departees off at the stayshun and figured I’d take a stroll around Currys/PC World. Shouldn’t have bothered. Absolutely nothing I wanted or needed. No particular sale prices from what I could see. Traffic was a nightmare getting in and out. The whole world was there. 

Overheard a woman say to her partner. ‘I think Galaxy is best.’ Curious. Gave me the impression that Samsung’s advertising had worked. If I ever want to buy a such a gadget l spend days researching every little nuance and tech spec. I buy it online knowing exactly what I want and why I want it. Doesn’t happen too often. You need a three or four year gap between handsets to make it worthwhile, certainly at those prices.

Then mosied across the road to B&Q. Car park not as full as Currys but still bugger all I needed. I’m now home watching ‘The Battle of the River Plate’. Somehow I only watch old movies. BBC2 HD fwiw 🙂

Tis a beeootiful day out.

…

Well. The first working day back, ish. Not totes sure how much work I will do but there ya go. Once I get into it will be foine. Probs.

I have a lane swim booked for 3pm. First in a year since they closed the pool. Probably won’t manage more than 20 mins but it will be a start innit.

Now sat in waiting for the CityFibre installation team. Sat calmly. Peace has been restored to the Davies residence with the departure of the last remaining visitors yesterday.

In other news just had an email from BA telling me that the flight I booked yesterday from Toulouse has been cancelled. Blimmin annoying. Ah well. No rush to sort. They have suggested a 10.45 departure which ain’t gonna work. The airport is 90 mins from where we are staying.

Feels quite good to get Christmas and New Year out of the way. Anne’s very excellent homemade granola with yoghurt for breakfast. Still some booze left in the fridge but that can stay where it is for the foreseeable.

Would be quite useful to have a more accurate window than 8am to 1pm for the fibre install. I don’t feel I can get on with things until they arrive as I’ll need to give them access to the garage etc.

One cautionary note btw. If reaching behind the Christmas tree to get the extension lead don’t wear a thick woollen jumper. You end up with loads of pine needles in the jumper. They are difficult to extract. CityFibre needs two electrical sockets. The ONT only needs one so I assume the other is to plug the test kit in to show that it is working. I won’t get it up and running until the cabling is run to the attic.

Just finished a booklet entitled ‘Quantum Listening’. Very interesting. All about Deep Listening. Sitting here in the shed feels like a perfect spot to practise Deep Listening. Although it feels quiet and calm in the shed, there is a lot to hear if you put your mind to it. Even if it is just the fall of water onto the roof from the trees above.

I spotted the book as an exhibit at the Tate Liverpool and took a pic to remind me. Then I found it was for sale in the Tate shop so it went in the tote bag with all the other stuff we bought and reappeared on Christmas Day. I’m obviously easy to buy for 🙂

While I’m sat waiting I thought I’d call the doctor’s surgery. Had a sms telling me it was about time I had my annual checkup. Caller number 14 in the queue. That’ll wait then. Every man and his runny nose will be on hold. My runny nose runneth no more, fortunately. 

Never occurred to me to call the doc for my cold. Just bought Beechams, Lemsip, paracetamol etc. In fact shortly before New Year’s Eve the shops seemed to have run dry of the stuff (pun intended) so not everyone was holding off to call the surgery.

Second cautionary note – I did not consume all the above mentioned medicines at the same time.

Got a feeling this city fibre visit is going to be a no show. It’s already 11.50 and the window closes at 1pm. Ended up calling Superfi whilst waiting. Sorted out my surround sound problem. They are brilliant. My contact Anthony fixed the problem in no time. Also called the docs again. Now up to caller 21. Manāna.

I do also need to call the bank about something but I need a clear morning in front of me to be able to cope with that stress. 

The cathedral bells have just tolled midday. A call for monks to midday prayer no doubt. It’s quite handy for us non monks as it reminds me it isn’t long before I head in and fix meself an omelette, today’s designated lunch item.

…

Omelette was deelish btw. En route back to the shed the ambucopter flew over with a sense of purpose. I always feel sad when I see an ambulance race by as it usually means bad news at the other end. It is a good thing that we have the helicopter in Lincolnshire though. It’s a big county, areawise.

CityFibre rocked up and the terminals are now in. Just waiting on the glass now. Getting there slowly.

That’ll do.

…

Is your journey really necessary? Reminds me a bit of World War 2, not that I was around. Saw something simlar online relating to the current train strikes.Can’t find it again now. Was on the Grauniad website. Looked up ‘WW2 propaganda posters’ and found one about turning the gas down. All sounds pretty familiar. Even ‘rationing’, when you think about the shortages on supermarket shelves we have seen in recent living memory. Ah well (buries head in sand).

Up early. Heard the milkman at 05.30. The arrival of the milkman can have the same effect as ‘Thought For The Day’ on BBC Radio4. Gets me out of bed. Was lying there awake when he arrived. Good night’s kip actually. The wee small hours of the morning can be a v productive time.

Sluggish start to the day. Occasioned by some medicinal whisky taken last night. I have to say it caught me a bit by surprise as I didn’t have that much medicine. I don’t think you ever live and learn.

The shed needs a bit of a tidy. I can count at least three laptops strewn around the place with accompanying accessories. The place is not really my own at holiday time although one conference caller was booted to the conservatory when her inputs to her own meeting began to interrupt mine. I don’t have that many meetings as such and typically stay out of the shed if there are already two people in residence.

New Year’s Eve. Today we dream of world peace, love, happiness and hopes for a bright future. No homeless on the streets, no long waits at the NHS. Everyone has enough money  to satisfy their needs so no strikes. I don’t think this is asking too much. Why can’t we have all this?

I hope that 2023 brings you all of this and anything I may have missed that is specific to your particular sitch. 

Lotsalove <3

…

The log fire has been lit and is now roaring appropriately in line with its job description. I’m glad I bought a big bag of logs. Outside the rain falls steadily. All is quiet. All is good. 

There are still chocolates on the Christmas tree. This is truly unheard of. I’ve been making inroads but there are only so many Christmas tree chocs you can eat in one session.

My chosen life partner is sat opposite, attracted by the promise of the fire. One of life’s pleasures, sitting quietly together, keeping each other company.

Vaughan Williams’ Lark Ascending flutters in the corner contributing to the relaxed vibe.

Our house has six sofas. That’s a fair number. An over’s worth. You may have more or you may have fewer. This is not about who has most sofas. It’s simply a statement of fact. I’m sat on one of them by the fire, almost within marshmallow toasting reach. Not that I’m about to start toasting marshmallows. Don’t want to spoil my appetite for later. It’s bad enough helping myself to the tree chocs.

I probably use more of the sofas than any other occupant of maison Davies. I don’t systematically work my way around the house trying out the sofas. It’s just that I use the front room more than anyone else and that alone has three of the sofas.

One of them is in the shed. 

…

Sausages sizzling in the pan herald the start of a new year. Not an obvious indicator I know but it is so 🙂The kitchen is brightly lit and today is the penultimate day of the “official” holiday.

We are using up what is left from the Christmas excess and tonight Hannah and George are cooking us a grand finale Thai meal to mark the end of their stay.

Tuesday is looking very active. Weather permitting, Rosso is coming to start on the new BBQ area (granite worktop etc), CityFibre (Kelly) are coming to install my FTTP connection and I will be back in the newly reopened pool at Yarborough Leisure Centre. It’s been closed for a year which has been v annoying and most inconvenient.

Those three items mark an optimistic start to 2023. Having the pool back should be life changing and the improvements to the BBQ area will be a big step up from what is there now.

I am also hopeful that the 1gig symmetrical will be a real bonus. I’ve taken the opportunity to revamp the home network and once the CItyFire/AAISP connection is in will demote the old Virgin docsis connection to being a backup and switch off its associated wifi. Only pain is that I’ll need to run an Ethernet cable or fibre from the garage to the attic where the router sits but hey…

January looks set to be a very busy month generally.

I happen to know it’s a Friday. Tbh this is of very little relevance. To anything. Had I said today is the ninth day after the Winter solstice that might have meant more. Heading in the right direction but hatches still battened.

We have no/very little say in our direction of travel. Some of us might crave for better days, sunnier climes but it is what it is. We are where we are.

Loudish background music, smooth jazz even, although I’m sure there is a more accurate description, streams through the kitchen door. This is fine. The source of the music leaves for London tomorrow. We are happy for the source to still be here enjoying our company and us his.

That will leave one remaining offspring, our daughter Hannah, and her boyf George with us until the New Year. That’s cool too.

Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve. Lots of people mark this occasion and actually in a society run by calendar it is a significant milestone. It would make more sense for it to coincide with the solstice but I guess it is too late to change now.

My only negative thought about NYE is the Auld Lang Syne nostalgia thing. I don’t do it. I’ve always subscribed to the notion that life moves on. If someone moves away and we don’t see them any more, if I enjoyed their acquaintance I’ll probs keep in touch via social media, occasional visits or Christmas card. If I bumped into them on the street I’d stop for a chat or maybe even go for a coffee or beer. It isn’t something to dwell on. Maybe I’m just a miserable bugger. Probs.

Moving away from a locale is far less of a final thing these days. When the pilgrims decided to head on an American adventure there was, unless the ship sprang a leak which one of them did, no going back. A letter home would have resulted in a reply the following year, if at all.

Two weeks today I am off to Miami. I’ll leave the house at around 7am to catch the 07.30 from Lincoln Central and by 19.30 local time will be saying hello to my pal @Joe Marion at Miami International Airport. The flight lands at 19.15 but a combination of turning left on the plane and Global Entry should see me through in very little time. Carry on only.

When we visited Plymouth MA and the Mayflower replica this year the notion that there was a perfectly good airport nobbut twenty miles away did go through my mind 🙂 I’ll probably have more room on the plane than was enjoyed by the passengers on board the Mayflower. Certainly the champagne will be better although I did observe that beer/ale was high on the list of pilgrim needs.

There is a backup plan for the UK bit of the journey in case the train staff are on strike, again. This involves a taxi. The backup may in fact become plan A as the train option looks to involve multiple changes over four hours versus a single three hour taxi hop. Only issue is the taxi is two hundred quid more expensive and I’d have to put up with the company of the driver for three hours. Gonnamullitover.

The flight is around 2 ish but I like to get there early especially if the Concorde lounge is involved. Pushed the boat out on this flight as I will be going out again with one of the kids the following week and need max comfort and min recovery time in between.

I’m quite excited about the prospects of 2023. Ok there is a lot of crap going on in the world but I’m focussed on my own little bit of it. The Little World of Trefor Davies by Giovanni Guareschi. Unfortunately Giovanni died in 1968 at the tender age of sixty. Brings it home a bit really. I’m sixty one. Doesn’t feel particularly tender 🙂 If you don’t know who Giovanni is you need to google him.

What is age anyway? It’s quite handy to have a senior railcard and nice to get free prescriptions. The latter will likely become a more valuable perk as I get older whilst the former will grow less relevant.

Hotel breakfasts are never quite the same as you can do for yourselves at home imho. Ok some at the very high end can come close and of course you are often presented with a much wider range of options than you would typically have at home.

Nevertheless I stand by my statement. This morning I have finished off the tinned grapefruit and had some toast and marmalade. The toast, made on granary bread, came out right first time with no need to put it through a machine a second time. Bonne Maman marmalade and Normandie butter. Yanow the form.

The other thing about hotel breakfasts is that I am compelled by a value for money gene to have the full English (when in England) even though I don’t typically have to pay for breakfast, at least at Hiltons. Usually the full English at your bog standard Hilton is not particularly appetising and is pretty much identical across many of their brands. Ah well.

Breakfast is complete and I am now slowly getting my brain around the day ahead. Nothing too onerous but I do want to put in some phone calls and my expenses are somewhat overdue. December was quite hectic innit. 

For us today is the first day of relative normality after Christmas. There is more “holidaying” to come but not today. We don’t have to worry about keeping the kids from being bored and being stuck in the house. 

When I used to hold down a fulltime job I often worked between Christmas and New Year. There was never anything going on in the business and it seemed a waste of holiday allowance to spend it at home moping. Now with no particular set holidays I work when it suits me regardless of the day of the week/season.

One of my jobs today is to refill the recycling bins that were emptied early this morning. I was able to avoid that job on Boxing Day because both brown bins were rammed. 

…

Today is actually a nice day. Bit of a breeze making it quite refreshing and not cold. The fact that I am writing this however does indicate a certain reluctance on my part to sort my expenses. There is a big pile of receipts on the desk in front of me as well as some in my email inbox. Once I get going I will be fine. Sigh 🙂

Found this poem on philosopherontap last night. It’s called A Golfer’s Eulogy.

When his game is up,

And prompts no more debate,

And life’s unerring drive,

Ascends the green of fate,

It will I’m sure be said,

By crowds that filled the gallery,

That upright was his stance,

Whilst stood upon the final tee,

And when the last put drops,

Stewards will murmur from afar,

In marking of his card,

He played his round in level par.

I wrote it in 2009. At the time my dad was alive but I suspect that deep down it was intended for him. When my parents died I didn’t particularly go public although others did which is fine. It is at Christmas that you really think about your parents. On a day like today I’d have called dad for a chat. I used to call most days. We wouldn’t talk about anything in particular.

During covid lockdowns I’d just leave a video session running where we wouldn’t necessarily say much or anything. Dad got weaker over time and it was difficult to hear him. He was a victim of covid although the disease itself didn’t kill him. He wasn’t allowed visitors in the care home. A terrible thing at his time of life. We shouldn’t forget but let’s move on.

2023 is already looking action packed. Not sure we can squeeze that much more into it. That isn’t to say every day is accounted for but as many days as we want to plan ahead for are. You need downtime. Ordinary days.

Ordinary days mean days where you go to the shops/gym/do jobs round  the house/gardening/watch TV/build that model aeroplane/do your knitting/cook a nice meal. That kind of thing.

I still haven’t got around to writing a hit West End stage musical though that remains on the list. To do that I need a lot of ordinary days, without travel and without work getting in the way. No sign of that as yet.

Travel starts again mid January with a fairly intensive month of it from that time. I guess if I didn’t enjoy it I wouldn’t do it. Ah well. Time to get on with my expenses…