where art collides

Milkman came at four thirty four this morning. We also had a visiting fox at around twenty one minutes past two. Both are regulars. The milk is now in the fridge. No idea where the fox is. In its den probs.

I woke up this morning having solved the meaning of life. Well at least the what shall Tref have for Christmas/birthday aspect of it. I’ve been after a model sailing ship for the shed for a while. It is the last accessory I ‘need’ to finish off the decor and will sit on the spare/project desk. Now I’m going to redouble my efforts.

The other idea is to get a decent log splitter. @Steve Jones has one and I have a lot of logs that need doing. Steve lives a long way from me though so I’m going to look into getting my own. Industrial job. Would only use it every once in a blue moon but I don’t know how people manage without one. Not sure THG totes approves of the idea 🙂

Popped to the docs surgery to get jabbed for my January trip. There was a sign on the door saying ‘please use the back door’. Walked all the way around the building but no back door open. Back at the main entrance lo and behold the front door opens as normal!! Didn’t do me any harm I guess. Mentioned it to the receptionist.  “Oh that was from Saturday, I’ll take it down”. Oh.

Next up a member of staff calls out the next patient’s name “Olly Adenbayie”. The only bloke it could possibly be is sat there oblivious to it all. Then realisation dawned. He mentioned his name at the desk but it didn’t really sound very similar to the one called out 😀. Understandable mix up I’d say.

The things you observe eh? Everyday goings on. It’s like yesterday. Enroute back from dropping Joe off at the station, I noticed that the multi storey car park downtown was full. Barriers across the entrance preventing any more cars getting in. Christmas shopping in full flow. 

I really can’t understand this. At all. In the nineteen seventies when I was a kid ok you had to go into town for this sort of activity. I have been into town when it is busy. You can’t walk in a straight line because someone continuously gets in your way. Wossthatallabout! Not my bag man.

Apparently people go to cafes with their partner/spouse when they are downtown. All part of the shopping experience. This is where you queue for twenty minutes to buy two lattes, a toasted teacake and a millionaire’s shortbread because there is only one person on the till. Then if you are lucky you find a table and then wave at a member of staff to come and clear the previous customer’s crap away. Even ordering through the QR code doesn’t particularly speed things up as it is the same person trying to serve the queue.

So I can’t understand the going to town to do a bit of shopping thing. THG likes it! It is not something we do as a couple. In fact we are totally incompatible when it comes to shopping.

My goodness it was windy last night. Had to hang onto my hat walking back from the Brittain’s party. This morning the overhead cables are down between Grantham and the Borough of Pete and therefore all trains into Kings Cross are cancelled. The wind has now dropped. Greatest party as usual.

Nipped out to the Coop on the Carlton Centre first thing as I’d forgotten to get some bacon in. Schoolboy error. THG had used the last of it in a venison casserole. Yup. It was on the menu for tonight but now that Jose can’t make it back to London we may opt for plan B as it’s only a small casserole. The exciting thing is I have no idea what plan B might be at this moment in time. Gonna wait until all occupants of the house are up and in a position to discuss.

At least the Coop is open. I had toyed with the idea of Deliveroo from Waitrose but the shop doesn’t open until ten and I was suspicious when I was being given a 25 minute delivery time at eight ey em. Checked the Waitrose website where it said the earliest Deliveroo would be around ten thirty. Why that is nearly the afternoon!

So, got a few jobs to do today. There is a list that I have not yet surveyed. I know it is there as THG specifically mentioned it, lest we forget. Can’t imagine it is anything too onerous although now I do recall that a piece of laminate needs sticking down on the unit in the TV room (snug). The work of seconds. In due course.

Classic FM Christmas playlist is on in the kitchen and living room. Was gonna play Lark Ascending but this is fine. Very acceptable. The right vibe. I like Christmas music just as I like Christmas. I especially like playing Handel’s Messiah. Dad always played it on Christmas Day. For Unto Us A Child is Born is currently on. A classic.

My shoulders would now be relaxing were it not for the fact that I slipped on some ice on the path in our back garden the other day and landed on my right shoulder which is now giving me gyp 🙂 The trials of Tref.

Outside, dullness prevails. Rain is forecast this morning. I may light the fire. Feels appropriate. I can sit in front of it whilst writing my Christmas cards. I have been allocated five to do, out of well into three figures. Every year we talk about cutting down on the number of cards we send. “We haven’t seen so and so for twenty years” etc. Then so and so goes and sends us a bloody card don’t they. A vicious circle. 

Nay, how can I say that at Christmas time. A virtuous circle. We are after all propping up the institution that is the Post Office. At this time of year we do get all nostalgic. The PO has always been with us as has Santa, Christmas and the BBC. There are I’m sure others worthy of mention. We should guard them jealously. 

Mind you I am being somewhat irrational. Most of this sentiment is there because these institutions/traditions have always been part of our lives. I certainly wouldn’t advocate ditching Christmas but the reality is I probs wouldn’t notice if the PO and the Beeb went. Unless The Today Programme was no longer in the morning, now I think about it. Hey…

…

Plan B turned out to be a train to Nottingham and then Bedford so Joe will be on his way.

It is once more the anniversary of my arrival on this planet. The sixty second such event. I mention this not because I seek attention. The two cards that were presented with the cup of tea this morning are more than enough recognition of the milestone. It is just that it has arrived without me even thinking about it.

I’ve not spent ages agonising over what present I might like or how I should spend my day. The day itself has already to some extent been arranged for me and independent of any birthday related activity. I am okay with the programme and I will give a moment or two’s thought as to whether there is anything I might like to retrospectively choose to be a birthday gift. My new trefbash jacket probably serves that purpose.

At least it wasn’t my turn to make the tea this morning 🙂 I will cook my own breakfast though. When the time is right.

Il pleut this morning. Heavily enough to put THG off going park running. Don’t blame her. Reminds me of the old rugby playing days when you would look at the weather and think “urgh, have I got to go out onto the pitch in this!”. Was ok once we got going.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the rugby weather dilemma no longer applies. I played my last game fourteen years ago. Grunts in the scrum have been replaced by sound effects getting up out of a chair. It would be quite funny if you could buy sofas that groaned every time someone got up from them. They could be marketed as furniture that disguises the ageing process.

I could treat the new power adapter for my Macbook Pro I ordered last night as my birthday present. Got home and found that I’d left the flipping charger somewhere. Called the Waldorf but nothing had been found although I’m pretty sure I charged the laptop in the room there. Tried the Tuesday night hotel but they couldn’t be bothered to answer the phone. Doesn’t really feel right and is in anycase a business expense.

What I might do is pop down to B&Q and see if there are any tools I fancy. Tools are a blokey thing innit. A friend of THG asked recently whether I had few tools she might borrow. Sorry love. You don’t lend out tools. Get your own. Even THG knew that. 

Joe is with us today. He can accompany me. It is good to be able to discuss the relative merits of different tools with someone who knows. Might be nothing in store that takes my fancy. Let’s see.

This morning Joe and I are heading to Fillingham to get the tree. It is a little damp for this but I’m told it is the only window of opportunity that works from a decorating perspective. I am given to understand that THG has a very busy schedule in the upcoming couple of weeks. Sfine. I am the tree erector not the decorator, a division of labour that has established itself over thirty five years of marriage.

In the meantime I need to crack an egg and sizzle a sausage. Ciao bebes.

…

A Postscript to the above is that I mentioned to THG about the B&Q trip and got the response “but you buy tools and never use them”. She does not understand. I bought a Land Rover Defender because it could wade through rivers and traverse glaciers and deserts. Get my drift?

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Christmas carols being bashed out on the piano in the conservatory. This is good. Joe is home. We are fortunate to have musical offspring. John sat in on sax with Jeff Brown’s band at trefbash and was bloody awesome even if I say so myself. I’ve passed the welling up with pride stage to just smiling every time I hear them and thinking to myself how lucky I am.

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Back from the tree sourcing expedition at Fillingham. The setup there is very slick. Plenty of people on hand to help and a “kid” to carry the tree to the car for you, as one of the members of staff put it. William Rose is always there to greet visitors and I had a nice little chat with him.

Following the arboreal part of the trip Jose and I repaired to the tool department of B&Q to check out their offerings. We came to the conclusion that either I already had all the tools or couldn’t think of a time when I would need it. The powered impact driver for example. Nice to have but would just take up space on the shelf.

I did acknowledge that new metal shelving had been on my mind for some time but this is a project that needs careful planning and not an impulse buy. The planning phase might take a couple of years but at the end of it  I will be totally sure that I was buying the right shelving.

At this stage I would like to acknowledge the tool leads provided in the comments below. (only on Facebook post) @Dave’s handtoolrescue.com and @Steve’s vintagetoolshop.com will be given the appropriate level of attention.

I am in the meantime watching Crystal Palace v Liverpool on the telly and need to finish this ritin.

Trefbash over for another year. Another great night. These nights are successful because of the people that come to them. Ok adding an abundance of champagne, good food, great music and order what you like from the bar into the mix does help but these are all secondary to the vibe created by the partygoers themselves. You are all fabulous 🙂and a special thanks to those of you who traned and planed in from out of town.

I got back to my hotel room at 01.50. London still buzzing at that time of night but not really that many places open. I saw a few groups of people wandering purposefully around looking for a watering hole but unless you specifically know somewhere you aren’t going to get much shrift after 11pm in the borough of Westminster. Even the hotel bar shuts at midnight wtf!!!

Fortunately I know a place…

A late breakfast this morning. Nine ey em. Mark and Sue were even later. There is no rush, other than they finish the service at ten 🙂. Taxi to the Cross of Kings, a quick catch up with Manuel then joined THG and Joe in the First Class lounge.

When I left the club last night I was halfway to the hotel when I realised I’d forgotten to pay the bar bill. Oops. Norraproblem. I’ll do it over the phone. Has to be paid with my Amex. Avios. Last December I got forty thousand avios on the strength of the trefbash bar bill. 

The build up for a trefbash lasts most of the year. I book the venue a year in advance. It’s one of the most sought after dates in the Christmas party calendar. Then I spend a few months deliberating over the theme for the following year’s bash. We have had themes from quite early on. I think trefbash five was “beach party”. In December. Pics from trefbash 4 seem to be missing ditto trefbash 2. If you have any please let me know.

Nowadays I get the services of an official photographer. Paul Clarke is brilliant. Captures the mood and pics of people when they don’t know they are being photographed. The photos are often the only way I remember who was there 🙂 Punters own pics are all well and good but they are often blurred in line with the nature of the evening.

I know I started by saying the success of trefbash is down to the people but there is another group without who it just couldn’t happen These are the sponsors:

Lonap

Fuse2

Magrathea

Netaxis

Gamma

Fractional Teams

I am proud that these very fine organisations want to be associated with the bash. I will obviously contact each of them individually but want to publicly express my heartfelt gratitude for their support. The individual contributions from purchasers of tickets also made a big difference. With their help the tab lasted most of the night.

Everyone’s generosity with tips for the bar staff was also very well received. Each of them went home with a very healthy amount in their pocket. Of this I am also very proud especially at this time of year. These guys work hard and take a lot of crap but it isn’t the world’s best paid profession. Trefbash not only benefited them but not having to deal with crappy customers, I’ve already said that you guys are lovely folk 🙂, but they also got a wodge at a time of year when it will come in very handy.

Christmas is not yet here but I guess I won’t see most of you between now and the big day so I’ll finish for today by wishing every one of you a happy holiday and may it bring everything you desire 🙂 I’ll post the pics when they arrive.

Ciao

Tref

…

Dark out, it is. The sun has vamoosed over the horizon in search of eternal happiness and the meaning of life.

It needn’t bother. That said it would not only be unfair on other regions of the planet if the sun shone continuously on our fair land but also a totes pain in the proverbial if it never got dark.

For one the sun might never go over the yardarm. The tonic with a splash of gin might never be a thing. The land of the midnight sun is not this land.

The rising and setting of the sun somehow provide closure, on the day at least.

I always find trefbash a mix of the surreal and the best night out you could imagine. If you’ve never been, it is a truly fantastic party. Even the staff at The Phoenix Arts Club compete to work on the night as all the customers are nice and out to have a good time. And they get a big tip thanks to the generosity of the partygoers.

Everyone has a wonderful time. The recipe is simple. Plenty of champagne and cocktails and some great food. Oh and there is the dancing to the trefbash house band of twelve years The Jeff Brown Quartet. 

An out and out good time night out that you will never forget. Well you might forget considering the amount of drink consumed. Last year we not only drank fifty bottles of Pol Roger champagne but an innumerable number of cocktails including 145 espresso martinis. What’s not to like? No pressure though. Just come for a good time. You don’t have to consume alcohol.

The surreal bit is the fact that the party can happen at all. It costs an arm and a leg to put on but it is supported year after year by some very good friends in the industry. And this is the fourteenth trefbash!! Clearly the supporters feel it is a worthwhile proposition. A big thanks to you all. This isn’t the platform to name brands. Maybe I’ll do that on LinkedIn. Thanks also to the twenty folk who paid for a ticket. All their cash goes on the bar tab. The more the merrier, so to speak.

Trefbash is tonight. Everyone works hard during the year and now is the time to let your hair down. See you at The Phoenix Arts Club from 5.30pm onwards.

This post is being brought to you from the butcher’s block in the kitchen. Whilst my sausage cooks. I will add other breakfast items into the mix but I’m sure you will agree that you have to start with the sausage.

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The process of cooking over took the process of writing and so the remainder of this post has been written from a settee in the snug after consuming my breakfast. Time is of the essence this morning as I have a car picking me up just before eleven to whisk me to Lincoln Central Station. Any further reports will have to come from the train. 

tara

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On da trane. Snuggled into seat E2 – aisle at the back of the carriage. V private. I was booked into my usual seat E5 but someone has booked the one next to me between Newark and Grantham and the one opposite between Newark and Kings Cross.. They could be real weirdos. I’ve moved.  Another benefit of seat E2 is that you are the first to be served from the trolley. 

Happily listening to a/the traditional Christmas Carols Spotify playlist. The Angel Gabriel. Official lyrics which should really have been modified years ago. Everyone knows they should read “most highly flavoured gravy”. Who do you write to to sort it out?

A couple of years ago I purchased the New Oxford Book of Carols for Christmas. This will contain the “official” text and I have no argument with that. One of the reasons I bought the volume is to ensure that we get the words right at our annual carol singing party. Many carols have multiple versions and the NOBC tries to cover the most well known.

I feel now is the time to introduce the popular versions of Christmas carols into the book. The problem is it is only revised about once every seventy five years. In fact it has only ever been revised once. It will take all of you to write in to request one further edition. That should do it. It will not need doing again after that. Probs.

This brings me to another issue. This year we are not having the Davies family carol singing party. We normally coincide it with the Lincoln Christmas Market which of course has been removed from the calendar of events for the city. V short sighted and lacking in ambition i say but we will not dwell on that here.

Fortunately we still have the Morning Star carols night on Wednesday 20th December to which you are very welcome to come. However this does mean only one carol session this year and I love singing Christmas carols. 

The religious and learned amongst you will point out that it is possible to attend a church service where Christmas carols are the order of the day. However they will typically sing only four or five carols and there is a risk that some of them will be the modern happy clappy rubbish you get nowadays. Not ma thang. Plus they add religious content which also ain’t ma thang.

So there we go. Morning Star it is.

…

The lights are coming on in Islington. London is descending into darkness. Well London isn’t because there are so many lights. We are at that time of the day when thoughts start to turn from the office treadmill to home, or the pub even, this being London.

I am sat in the window of the Hilton Angel Islington with a pint of Goose Island something or other watching the change to the day. I’ve dropped off a load of stuff at the Phoenix Arts Club and now have a bit of a wait before offspring appear.

Just fine tuning the playlist for Thursday night. I never considered that I had  a particularly sophisticated vinyl collection but with the help of Spotify I can turn out a great set. In my opinion. My Bose headset has the foam sticking out of one side which doesn’t look particularly cool I’m sure but hey, who cares. Now playing Mustang Sally. Sitting in the very brightly lit bar of the hotel. 

Long couple of days ahead starting with breakfast at Dishoom tomorrow. Never been there for breakfast so figured I would try it out.

Milkman came at quarter past six this morning. That’s quite late for him. Not really a surprise considering it’s cold and ‘orrible out there and he has to drive from Newark. It was my turn to make the tea so I struggled up twenty minutes later. Our central heating is playing up but with a little help from moi it came on this morning so that is good.

Yesterday’s snow is rapidly vanishing but it is still a day for layers. Been trying to think about clothing options for trefbash. It’s not what to wear for the bash but more what I wear for the walk home at two in the morning. I don’t want to leave anything there for picking up the next day and I don’t want to cart too much back with me. Can’t see a way around taking a bag for my jacket. It is too bulky to fit under any coat that might be suitable for the weather ie something an eskimo might be seen in. I’ll be walking as finding a cab at two am in central London will be near impossible.

I recall the night before the very first trefbash Ajax and I were staying in a cheap hotel near Waterloo. It was a freezing night, well below zero. The lad had put on a party shirt and light coat appropriate for warm night clubs and pubs. I had a thermal lined coat with a very thick woolly hat. Pleasantly warm.

Walking back to the hotel from Ronnie Scotts Ajax was totes freezing and we had to stop at McDonalds at Charing Cross Station to get him a coffee. I’d quite like a Maccy Ds after trefbash but most of them are closed by the time I leave the club and those that aren’t, the same one on the Strand that Ajax and I went to thirteen years ago has long queues outside. A kebab would be even better but central london seems to be a fast food desert at that time of night. I always stay within sensible walking distance since then.

The packing has started. I always have a load of props to take down to London. This is an insurance policy against the squares that rock up in business gear. You know who you are. A load of engineers usually just turn up in jeans and t-shirt and ironically with this year’s theme being ‘music festival’ that would not be inappropriate. However some embellishment is still required 🙂

There is still work being done in the big wide world of commerce although minds are really very much starting to turn towards the party season.

In the shed all is calm. There are constant drips on the roof as the snow continues to turn to cold water. V cold water. Don’t want one of those drips down the back of your neck do you?

Selective hibernation, whereby an individual can decide to stay in bed all day because the snow outside is deep on the ground. This is very similar to a duvet day but quite different as a duvet day can happen at any time of year. Don’t think I’ve ever had a duvet day, at least not in living memory. Neither have I selectively hibernated.

Today is a cold winter’s day. The snow is deepish on the lawn. Honest folk will not stray far from their hearths. This begs the question in respect of the credentials of those (THG) converging upon churches across the land. Trudging icy pavements. We must show understanding and only treat them with suspicion during hours of darkness. 

There are footprints in the snow in the back garden. A cat or a fox. Tried spotting it on cctv playback but must have gone below the radar. Were I an experienced tracker I could surely identify the species but a) I’m not and b) it would involve an expedition beyond the back door and I am still in my pyjamas.

One of the use cases for my car is driving across glaciers. Today is a perfect opportunity to simulate this. I have no real need to venture forth but it would seem daft to not take advantage of the poor conditions. This is incompatible with selective hibernation and a decision has already been taken not to spend the day in bed. Wouldn’t go down particularly well anyway 🙂

I am going to light the fire. Fortunately I purchased some kindling from a local wood shop on my way home from Newark yesterday. This means I don’t have to head to the bottom of the garden to chop up some more old fence. What foresight! The kindling is still in the boot of the car but I’ll need to head that way anyway for the purpose of log gathering. Plus I’d like to take a pic of the snow covered car.

I love it when it snows.

…

Today will start with a cooked breakfast. No mushrooms as I used the last up yesterday in the chicken stir fry and no egg. Didn’t fancy an egg this morning. Beans instead. I tend not to mix egg and beans. Dunno. Incompatible taste maybs? Definitely fried bread.

…

By ten forty five the snow has started to melt. It is our lot, here in the tropic of Lincoln. We yearn for picture postcard winters with plenty of opportunities to get the sledge out of the garage and head for the hill.

In reality most of us don’t have a sledge. Whenever it snows the shops sell out of them in nanoseconds and we have to improvise with plastic bags or tin tea trays. Moreover the ten seconds or less thrill of hurtling down the slope at South Common is more than countered by the ten minute trudge back up the hill, probably whilst carrying a kid.  I think we do have a sledge somewhere. Probably bought one summer in a huge and unusual flush of  foresight 🙂

One pleasing feature of the snow this morning is that it is still on the roof, especially the kitchen roof. We had it retiled and insulated last summer and the investment is now starting to pay off.

I am in the shed which, being well insulated, will quickly come up to operational temperature. My job this morning is to sort out the trefbash playlist (five tickets left if you are still dithering). We will as usual have @jeffrey Brown and his band getting us up on the dance floor but the stint before food is going to be the playlist. It’s my party and I’ll play what I want to 🙂

I am taking a relaxed stance to the day. It’s a bit yukky out and there is no rush for anything so the rosti potato mix is prepped and ready to go on the pan but there is no hurry. The only deadline I have is Chris the cooker repair man coming at ten thirty to replace the burner in the right hand oven. Breakfast needs to be over well before then obvs. The time right now is eight thirty four.

Home made rosti potatoes are so much better than the frozen hash browns crap they dish out in hotels. Not particularly healthy but a nice treat from time to time. You have to remember to squeeze the excess water out of the grated spuds otherwise they don’t fry properly.

The house is warm. This is good. Amazing the effect burning wodges of ten pound notes has. Actually I’m not really sure how much it costs to heat the place. We’ve been paying the energy company too much and are about to get a large refund. Not even sure who we use! THG tells me they want to install a smart meter. I assume I am ok with this.

Upstairs the bath is running. THG junior is visiting with boyf George. Unusual time of day to have a bath but there is no law against it. I quite like a soak in the bath from time to time. She obviously gets it from me.

THGJ and I are off on a dad and daughter trip at the end of January. The last of the series of dad and kid adventures in which one offspring gets to travel with daddy for two weeks or more. I’m not going to go around again. With four kids it gets expensive plus I don’t like leaving THG on her own. It was fine when some of them lived at home but now our house is kid free, for much of the year.

Anyway let’s get Christmas out of the way before starting to talk about trips.

…

Chris the cooker man is here and approves of my new leather jacket 🙂

…

It is a Saturday morning. I don’t particularly have a routine on a Saturday morning. In fact I don’t have a routine on any morning. Was pondering whether this is a good thing. Needs mulling over. On the one hand it is good to not be on a treadmill. On the other hand I need to make sure life doesn’t just drift. I do some gainful work but this is not full time and could fit other stuff in.

There are banging sounds coming from the kitchen. Our Chris getting on with the job.

Dear Santa

Not sure when I last wrote to you, soz. May have been during an earlier shorts wearing phase. Primary school probs. Funny how what goes around comes around innit.

I’ve always been a believer even if I didn’t write. The world is full of too many bad things and life is too short to not believe. Believing in you somehow seems to make things better. It means anything is possible. Simple choice really. 

I think I’ve been good all year. I generally try to be good. Again it is simple. Why be a knobhead, pardon the French, when you can be nice to people. This is something I’ve learnt over the years, particularly as the grey hairs have moved in. Others will be the judges. You in particular, Santa.

Not sure what the grey hairs are about. I’ve always been a kid. Then in my mid forties I needed varifocal lenses in my glasses. That was the first indication that things were starting to change. Gradually since then bits have metaphorically dropped off and lately I’ve developed the knack of turning on the sound effects when I get up out of a low chair. So I’m not running around with the same energy as that kid who wrote you letters all those years ago.

The issue with being good all year is that I don’t really need anything for Christmas that I would need to be good to earn. Problem is if I want something I just buy it and if I really need something it is there the next day or sooner. So any letter I write you is not going to have a list of presents I would like in my stocking on the big day.

I remember one year The Head Gardener and I had said that we wouldn’t buy each other a present. When it came to the kids opening their presents there turned out to also be one there for me, from THG herself. Boy did I feel bad. 

Not as bad as the year when she asked for the Who Wants to be a Millionaire board game. I left it until Christmas Eve to go shopping and despite trying eight different shops all I could find was Who Wants to be a Millionaire Junior. So I bought that and loads of other things to go with it. It was the most heart wrenching time in our married lives to see the disappointment on her face. I had let down the one I love the most. I have never since left Christmas shopping until the last minute. And I only have to buy for Anne (THG) and my sisters.

We have, as you know, four offspring. They are now all adults but I daresay still write to you. I can vouch that they too have been good for the whole of 2023 afaik and worthy of your favourable attention. It will be a lot easier on the Davies family purse if you could furnish as many of the requested presents as possible. No pressure obvs. Whatever you think appropriate considering your already not inconsiderable workload. If it makes it easier I can make sure they all get their letters in early enough for future years.

It’s about proportionality innit. There have, I know, been occasions in the past where the list of requests has extended to several pages. Just do what you think is right, if for no other reason than to save us from having too many bags of packaging to shove in our recycle bins. In years past it has not been possible to get all the cardboard into the two brown bins. 

This is partly because we have so many empty bottles and cans to dispose of at this time of year. It is a matter of personal pride on my part to hear the sound of bottles being tipped from a smaller bin into the larger one outside. V satisfying. You will have been v impressed to see the number of bags filled with bottles from my Christmas party, trefbash, especially considering that most of them are Pol Roger champagne. My fave. I would invite you if I thought you had time to come. Wrong time of year for you innit.

There is one question that you might usefully answer and that concerns your favourite tipple. As you know I leave a glass of brandy and a mince pie out for you on Christmas Eve. However in the interest of keeping everyone happy if there is an alternative you would rather have then do let me know. 

Let’s keep it sensible. No glasses of fifty year old port for example but if you would prefer a Baileys, say or a reasonably priced whisky then just ask. As long as I have it in it is yours. Lemme know if you want ice although this may not necessarily be practical as it might melt before you get to ours. You know the score. The mince pie is non negotiable.

So now to the crux of the matter. I can’t really think of anything I want for Christmas so hows about this. I’d like some of the usual things such as world peace, long life and happiness for everyone. Politicians who are not self serving and don’t lie to us and perhaps a General Election in the spring.  Lower mortgage interest rates and energy bills. No homelessness.   Snooker on the telly all year round (that one is particularly for THG). I’d also like continuous rolling repeats of Dad’s Army and any other good TV shows from the past. There’s never anything I want to watch on the box. On free to air obvs. No global warming. Now I think about it I could also do with some logs bringing in from the bag in the front garden and also last night I slipped on the icy footpath near the shed and hurt my shoulder. This is being a bit of a nuisance right now so that could do with fixing. Make the pain go away Santa bebe. This leads on to me asking that man flu be officially recognised as an ailment. 

There we go. A simple enough list. Quite short really. One paragraph. A man of your capabilities should have no trouble with sorting. Those elves need driving. Don’t give them a chance to slack off. Think of it as Amazon on steroids.

Anyway thanks in advance.

Your ever optimistic fan.

Tref

PS don’t forget to let me know. Brandy or whisky? You choose.

This morning the car is, I note, covered in frost and will require some attention before I drive it later. The back garden too is frosty and most picturesque. Interesting how our attitudes towards frost differ. Pretty back garden, pain in the arse car.

I do have the facility to remote start and defrost the car which I will do this morning. Never done it before. I have to head out to pick up my trefbash outfit and also nip down to Coops’ garage to put air in my tyres. Probs pick up some breakfast stuff in Fosters en route.

The walk to the shed will be lethal. I slipped on the path last night and bashed my shoulder which is now giving me gyp. Ah well. The safer route is on the grass. The deck in front of the shed is also v slippery.

No complaints here though, well apart from the shoulder. I like the cold weather. Today I will light the fire as we have Adie and Zara swinging by this evening to consume mallard. Nowt quite like a crackling log fire, flames dancing in the grate. Mesmerising.

Got off the train in Lincoln. Bloody freezing. Fortunately THG was there in a snap to whisk me home. The occasional snowflake tried in vain to disrupt our journey up the hill. Pathetic 🙂

The heating is on and a hot cup of tea adds additional warmth. 

I am wrestling with choice of dinner tonight. On the one hand there is Charlie Bigham whose madras/jalfrezi is v good but in the red corner there is a beef curry fried rice. I would either have to go and collect the latter or order a delivery. Collection doesn’t feel attractive and a delivery will come with uncertain timing.

A trip to Waitrose is required to mull this one over. Peruse the ready meal shelves. Not cooking owt from scratch. Not after a full-on few days in the metropolis. The great centre of Empire that was London, Prime Meridian, jellied eels. That kind of stuff.

There is something of a permanent feel to the Prime Meridian. Yes someone could come along in the future and decide they don’t like it and either move it or demote its significance. Don’t think it will happen though. I like having it in Greenwich. I’d guess that very few people give it any thought. Neither do I really.

…

Just had some stale water. Yuk. The glass had been sat on my desk since I left for London on Monday. I sense that since the sun went over the yardarm a good hour ago it would be perfectly acceptable to cleanse my palate with some tonic water with the merest splash of gin.

The left hand curtain in the bedroom has been opened. This has not had much effect on the in-room light levels. Outside is wet and ‘orrible and my clothing options for this afternoon’s trip to London have been reassessed. The focus is on comfort and warmth. “What the sensibly dressed Tref is wearing this season”. Hawaiian shirts are but a distant memory.

Tis a Monday, as you may know. A nondescript day in the calendar. When has ‘the last Monday in November’ ever had any significance’. Just looked it up. Nothing of any import has happened on this day in history as far as I can see. Ok, a few births, a few deaths but no peace treaty, no discovery of America etc.

This is probably because at this time of year everyone is focussed on finishing off business and deciding on what to wear for the Christmas party/parties. There is also a gradual build up in intensity of Christmas present sorting. I refrained from using the word ‘buying’ there because I’m a great believer in people making presents rather than handing over hard cash for some item that will sit in a drawer for years and then disposed of on the quiet when you think nobody will notice.

Not sure this philosophy has been universally adopted by the rest of the family. None of the kids seem to have included any items in their letters to Santa that are easily made at home. ‘Please can I have a scarf?’. In fairness they are all now adults and able to knit their own scarves so perhaps that is what is happening.

Also I tend not to see what they’ve put on their lists to Santa so I can’t be totally sure everything on it needs purchasing/made in Santa’s workshop. 

I was once out and about doing some Christmas shopping, or trying to do and found myself in the Edinburgh Woollen Mill store in the Bailgate. They had a great deal on cashmere jumpers that I thought would be perfect for my mam. I rang dad to discuss this only to discover that mam already had every colour cashmere jumper that the shop had to offer! Every chest of drawers and wardrobe in their five bedroomed house was full of mam’s clothes!

I guess I will have to wait until the day to find out what Santa got the kids. My job is largely to leave the carrot, mince pie and brandy out next to the fireplace. Before hitting the hay I will consume the latter two and put the carrot in the pan with the rest of them ready for the next day.

Gotta go. Outfits to choose…

Hunstanton was underwhelming. Empty pay and display car parks and caravan sites keeping you at arms length from tide full out muddy beach. I came and went.

Snettisham Beach was a big improvement. Drove down the single track, past the caravan park and slotted into the one remaining parking spot of four, right on the beach. The tide, as you know, was out and the dirty wet sand was being patrolled by oyster catchers and other long billed birds out for a feed. Bitterly cold wind made it feel sub zero.

Picked up some walkers and took a car load to the Feathers in search of a TV showing the Man City v Liverpool game. THG watched it on my phone whilst Chris Weston and I each had a pint of Guinness.

We were on one of our camping weekends away with the gang. Although we did a weekend glamping in the summer nobody camps under canvas any more especially in November on the East Coast. The party had three motorhomes and three “luxury” pods between the twelve of us. The pods were quite basic but were warm which I guess is the main requirement on a weekend the thermometer plunged to 1 degree Centigrade.

There are a couple of themes that permeate these outdoor weekends away. One is longish walks in the countryside and the other is the consumption of a significant quantity of food and drink towards the end of each afternoon. On this occasion several of the party for various age related reasons excused themselves from the walks.

This turned out serendipitous for when, after one hour forty minutes of bracing East Anglian sea air, the walkers hit the beach,  a number of them concluded that the path of wisdom lay in travelling back to base in the cars that had arrived for a rendezvous at the Snettisham Beach Cafe.

Their collective decision was helped by the fact that not only was the cafe closed but every similar joint for miles around had also unsurprisingly decided to shut for the winter. This left only the Snettisham Beach Pet Shop open providing essential supplies to the canine lovers of the area. The woman in the petshop, where I had called in to see if there were any caffs at all open, described herself as Billy Nomates. It’s a lonely game selling dog food at a remote beach in Norfolk in the winter.

That is the point at which we made it to the Feathers. We also went there that evening having booked a table for twelve at seven pm. This proved to be a mistake. The food was pretty average and a number of us suffered from stomach ailments during the night. We shall not return.

So after an excellent stopover for Sunday lunch with Alistair Ward  and Erica Ward we are now home, tired but happy. The heating is gradually moving the needle on the house thermostat from nine and a half degrees when we got in to the regulation twenty one degrees and the hot water is on for me to have a bath a bit later on.

A busy week in London lies ahead potentially involving an element of radio silence. It isn’t all work though. On Monday early doors I have a meeting at the Phoenix Arts Club to nail the menu for trefbash. Catch ya later…

PS message me if you want to come along to the Phoenix. 6pm meet.

The title of this post is ‘fewer people having expensive hairdos’. This was part of a news item as THG brought the tea upstairs this morning. We both heard it and laughed out loud. She is off to the hairdressers this morning. The cost of a hairdo can be measured by how long it takes and I’ve been told not to expect her back too quickly! She deserves every minute 🙂

Keto diet is now on pause for a few days. Quite a few really as the party season comes thundering down the track. This weekend’s camping fare will be hearty. Dress code for Saturday night is ‘Christmas jumper’ which I don’t possess. I’m not really into Christmas jumpers not the least because they are usually cheapo garments thrown together at minimal cost. You are permitted to call me a miserable git.

Right now I’m sat in the snug sinking a cup of tea. Sipping really. Once this ritual is over, cracking needs to be got. Trips to three different shops are on the list for weekend provisions and I need to get packing. Winter gear. The temperature is set to drop today which is great timing.

I don’t mind cold weather especially since we got the houser double glazed. It’s made a big difference to the comfort levels. Although most of you reading this probably expect double or even triple glazing, our house was built in nineteen thirty nine when they had never heard of it. 

The house had a coal cellar, downstairs loo and a pantry all next to each other. We never used the coal cellar as such and it wasn’t even a cellar. It was a pantry sized room into which coal could be tipped from the outside. All three rooms have gone, sacrificed to kitchen expansion and general improvements to the property. The snug has a bricked up fireplace leaving the front room with the one remaining working hearth. Something which is only used when we have visitors 🙂

Because we are only off for one night you would think our baggage would be minimal. This is not the case. We have room in the car for a kitchen sink so we take that with us. The focus for the weekend is warmth. A double thickness duvet with a fleece lined woollen blanket that @Sue bought me from the Tintern Abbey shop and which is v warm provides our night time insulation. My backdoor shoes make it easy to nip to the loo (hedge) in the middle of the night.

More in due course, maybe.