Up early. Bacon on the go. Joiner Mark Sutton is coming at half eightish to fit a new window to the potting shed and to slap some filler on the other one. THG already left for her morning lane swimming session. Worragirl. Busy day ahead starting with finishing packing for our trip and then an important funeral. Not enough milk left for me to drink with my bacon sandwich but ok for teas. Sfine. The sound of the kettle accompanies the sizzling of the bacon. No wireless. S’all sh!te.
Yesterday I was glad we had a heater put into the workshop as it was cold in there for the first time. Finished off the lifebelt “station” and the sign. Going to be installed in situ at the lake this morning. Safety first. Mind you I didn’t do a risk assessment. It’s just intuition based on sixty three years’ experience of lakes, and life. Love lakes, love life. Live it to the full.
Also had the heating on in the shed where THG and I had cosily ensconced ourselves to watch the footie. Nice just the two of us being in there. Cosy, like I said. My new drinks shelf is coming into its own. A perfect place to put down a can of diet coke, cold from the fridge. Every shed should have a fridge.
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The news is the lifebelt needs a bit more work. The rope didn’t glue on to my satisfaction and needs another go around. The sign however is ready and will go in before we leave for the funeral this morning.
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THG dropped me off at the stayshun after we had been to Chris Weston’s funeral. A good turnout of old rugby pals. He was one of our camping mates and chairman of the non playing section (of one) of our little golf society. The first of our little crowd to go and as such very close to home. Ajax did a very good job of reading his poem fair play. Now life has to move on. We have to support Karen.
Made me think a little more about how I’d like my funeral bash to go. I’ve already stipulated burial (ie no cremation), loud Hawaiian shirts and a raucous party. I’ll add to this now. I don’t want some anonymous person running the proceedings reading a script written by the family. I also want it in a church with lots of singing and participation from family and friends. The church bit isn’t about religion for me. It’s about tradition and venue. Far more theatrical than a crematorium. The whole event would be my last show.
I do quite like the idea of attending my own wake. I could organise one whilst I was still living and invite all my friends and family. Trouble it that would be tempting fate too much.
Now on the train to Peterborough en route to Cambridge. Going to present Terry with a gift at his retirement do. He doesn’t know this. I’ve had a Silicon on Sapphire wafer framed together with a sticker of the MAS31750 radiation hard microprocessor designed by Terry in our Marconi days. He complained once that I have all the SOS samples and he, the designer, did not. This remedies that sitch.
This back route to Peterborough is one I have only travelled once before, years ago. On that occasion a bunch of loud school kids got on and I promised myself never again. I’ve kept that promise until now. The connections make sense and at twelve thirty four there are no kids. Currently in Metheringham. I sense it is going to be quite a scenic trip. Maybe.