Saturday 23rd April 2011

St George's Day.

(Not) Bank Holiday, England.

It does not feel like Saturday, looking outside I can only see myself looking back in as it is still dark. a combination of a few things meant I have been awake since three and up since four.

I have fed one cat, she was asking all cute like, the crazy cat has walked through the living room and is probably gnawing on Jools' nose as she did mine yesterday. She could have just meowed here and I would have fed her, but that would be too simple.

It is the four day weekend and the sun is shining and even yesterday it was hot. Not just warm, but hot. Hot as in too hot to sit in the back garden at half nine in the morning reading. Hot as in going for a mid-afternoon snooze on the bed even though I had not touched a drop of the cooking sherry.



And its going to be pretty much the same today. And tomorrow. And its a double bank holiday; has the world gone mad? It should be raining with people huddled inside shelters wearing gaberdine macs eating cold chips all the while telling themselves they're having a good time. How can folks do that if the sun is shining and we're all wearing Bermuda shorts and knotted hankies?

And if the burning ball of gas eight and a half light minutes away shining from a clear blue sky wasn't enough, we have a Royal Wedding to look forward to. I say look forward to, those of you paying attention will remember we're leaving the country on Thursday for the duration. I don't begrudge anyone happiness, even a Royal, but when the country has gone to shit and it's all the BBC seems to think we care about. well, best to turn it off and look for your passport.

But let me stop grumbling, yes really. As life is good; the garden is coming ever more alive, the birds are singing, as I write this an owl is hooting mournfully, probably sad he didn't get a wedding invite either!

And there is football. Yes, football.

I have supported norwich for some 38 years, and as i said there has been a whole lot of thin and not a lot of thick in those nearly four decades. But this season the good times have been continuing after a great year last year in the 3rd division, and now we are just three games away from possible promotion back to the Premier league which would mean more money, but also lots of defeats. But that could be in the future. For now things are great and getting better. And with four games to go, all against teams well below us and games we could win all of, first up was the enemy. Ipswich; or as the wag on the radio put it, The Old Farm Derby! Oh, how i laughed.

For years, certainly when I was at school, City lived in Town's shadow. But things are more even these days, and even though we only got promoted back to this level this year, we are ten places above them in the league and with the chance of glory, whilst their season peters out towards the summer.



All Town fans had to look forward to was the chance for their team to fatally derail our promotion push. Sadly, Thursday night's game was not on TV, so those of us who could not go had to make do with listening to it on the radio. City should have won, but local derbies can be nervous and a shock result is possible.

One nil.

Two nil.

And that was halftime, City cruising and having a great time.

Three nil.

Three on. Four one.

And just enough time for another breakaway goal to make it five.

Five one.

I was running round the living room whooping as the goals rained in, I could hear the chants of cheerio, cheerio ringing around the empty stands of Portman Road as the Town fans left to catch an early train home.

In the cosmic scale of things it means no more than three points, but it was the biggest win by City over our rivals, coming a few months after the previous record was set, 4-1. heady days indeed, but we need to keep our heads as there is another game on Monday which is even more important now.

Apart from football, I organised a flickrmeet yeasterday, not very far away in Waldershare Woods, as the wild garlic is in full bloom. Only four of us turned up, but it was nice enough, walking in the woods to where the wild garlic lays thick like snowdrifts.
As we walked through it, the bruised leaves released the scent of garlic, for our three friends, they had not seen this scene before, and thought it as wonderful as we did.
We all snapped away.



After a quick visit to the church, we all headed our ways back home for lunch, and for me to bake a batch of saffron buns. Soon the warm air was heavy with the sell of rising and then baking bread, mixed with the scent of saffron. We sat on the patio, the heat of the day now cool enough for us to sit there under the blue sky, eating buttered buns, sipping a fresh cuppa and all the while telling ourselves, we live here. We really do.

Happy Easter.