I would have posted this Sunday evening, but we got sidetracked by a film. Or a movie. You decide which. Anyway, before then we had some stuff to do.
Sunday began, like all good days of rest with me worshipping at the altar of football. MOTD anyway, which being premier League is not real football, and that is not just bitterness from a FL team supporter, but it has long since stopped being a real competition, just for those with the deepest pockets.
What have you go in your pocketses I wonders, yes I do, precious. Oh, you have money, more money. And in the other pocketes, more money. Poor precious.
After the football, breakfast, we went out in the car to that secluded valley near Barham, to check on the Early Purple Orchids. We parked up, walked up the bridleway, and still no open orchids, but plenty of pikes, some about a week away from being open. On the other side of the road, I explored the wooded hillside, and found, as expected, hundreds, if not thousands of Common Twayblade rosettes, along with rosettes from White Helleborines, Flys and a Common Spotted. A lovely sight, and one which will be amazing in a month or so.
We drive back home, and have some fancy soup for dinner, along with the rest of the bread I made a couple of days before.
Classy.
Outside the sun shone on, but the wind was in the east, and was cold, and in truth I was in the mood for a walk, although I should have gone. I messed around on the computer, listened to the radio, and later prepared dinner. Jools went to visit Nan, and I listened to the Manc Derby, Utd ran out easy 4-1 winners, and so for Citeh another round of heartache is about to begin. Probably.
We had a small lamb joint for dinner, with steam veggies, roast potatoes and Yorshire puddings along with the rest of the gravy from the beef the week before. It were mighty fine. We listened to some Wittertainment, then sat down to watch Nightcrawler, which I had heard things about, and indeed Jake was wonderful, but the story unsettling, and off kilter, which was the point.
And once again the sands of the weekend had run out, time for a shower and then time for bed. And being almost springlike outside, it was hot with our spring duvet on, so followed a broken night’s sleep. Broken further by worries on my part of thoughts of work.
Monday.
I was awake at four, in the spare bed where it was cooler, but where there is no clock, so I tried to guess the time by the sounds outside. I am guessing it was four, maybe a little after. I tossed and turned, and then the birds started singing. Dawn showed round the edge of the curtains, a cockerel crowed. It was half five, and time for action.
I got up, packed and had coffee. I really did not feel like travelling. But hey, I am the boss and I arranged it. So, blame me.
Jools dropped me off at Martin Mill. And there I began the fire-fighting phone calls, dealing with the issues that had woken me up. Calls to Denmark, calls to Scotland, calls to Germany. The train came, and the calls continued until we went into Guston tunnel and I lost the signal.
In London the calls continued, but I fixed the problem, or rather it sorted itself out after an unexpected outbreak of common sense. That will never do. Whatever next?
I checked in, checked my case, went through security, but I could find no books or magazines to read. All I had was a two-week old copy of Rail. I hope work would keep me busy. No need to worry on that. As I queued to board the plane ,my phone battery died, so I would have peace until I got into the office.
In seat 5A, I slumped, failed to read the in flight magazine, and instead watched as we taxied, the engines revved and off we leaped. Below London disappeared from view behind so low clouds. But Essex appeared a few minutes later over Chelmsford. I had fine views over East Suffolk and u the coast to Yarmouth as we flew out over the sea. I had breakfast, a coffee, and I was ready for the day.
At Billund I collected the keys for my Renault Clio, and drove in strong winds and what could be described as sunny intervals.
At Esbjerg I was greeted by my friend Shelly informing me that my friend, Anni, had left the company, like half an hour ago. Words fail me on that. Coming after another colleague who is resigning, and then on Friday the news that my boss has been replaced, sidetracked and I have a new boss, who I have never heard of, we are now a production-focused dept, and all change, all change. New balls please.
Night of the long knives. It will not be the same with two of my best friends leaving or left.
I have the weekly project meeting. Well, I turn up. Then Dave turns up, so we swap news, and I show him some files, as you do. I wondered to offer if he wanted to see some etchings. Maybe not.
Nothing else to keep me there, other than I might get asked more questions, so I take my leave, and then drive the hour and 20 minutes to Ringkobing, where my hotel room was booked for two nights. The morrow promises more inspections, maybe the final ones. Now that calls for a celebration! A beer for cheer and a beer for sadness, and a meal on my own. As is the way.
In the hotel, I have a fine room with views overlooking a reed bed. I sit there and watch the sun go down, promising myself to photograph it the next day. But being Denmark, the clouds did gather and a great rain did fall. But all of that tomorrow.
Tuesday
I went to bed last night watching the sun set in a most spectacular fashion, but this morning, it was grey and cool.
Just as well as I have just work to look forward to then.
I have a shower, get dressed and head down to the restaurant for breakfast, before the 15 minute drive to the factory. I do realise, that this is the first time I have made the trip in daylight, and how much nicer it is. I arrive, am met by the manager, and so begins the debrief before the day begins.
And here we go, ready for another day at the coalface, the arguments and the hassle, and yet its never that bad.
We finish at three, and that is that, what should be the final inspection here, everyone happy, and everyone saying how good the whole experience has been.
Even better is when I am back at the hotel, a bombshell is dropped asking about my plans for the future and would I consider working for him? Hmm, let me think. OK> See, despite it all going so well, there is always the fear that at the end of the project, I could be out on my ear, and what with we buying a new car. But then buying the new car was acceptance that I can do the job, and am happy doing so, go figure.
I head to the Italian place in town on my own, have half a bottle of red, to wash down the insalate caprese and rare steak. Lovely. Time for a limoncello before I walk back to the hotel to keep track of City vs Dirty Leeds.
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