Yesterday was the third anniversary of Brexit, the economic Brexit that followed political Brexit.
The referendum satisfied political Brexit, econmic Brexit was our own form of Brext.
Our choice.
Our pain.
Each Brexit "freedome" has brought in more costs, more delays, made UK businesses less competitive. Yesterday, former PM Alexander Boris de Piffel Johnson said we should point to the vaccine roll out to show a real benefit of Brexit. Only that was done during the implementation period meaning we still obeyed EU laws and rules if we were still a member.
So, another lie.
Most of the trade deals signed by Liz Truss were rollovers from the ones we had as EU members, but will have to be properly renegotiated in the next decade. Those new ones have either brought no economic benefit, or have put our own manufacturing or farming at a clear disadvantage.
Today, the Express reports an increase in basic food costs of 16.7%, not all down to Brexit, but Brexit has made it worse. So bad that the full checks that really taking back control should have meant would have dealt an even heavier blow to the UK economy, so have been shelved to the end of next year, the 4th time such a delay has been announced.
The IMF announced its forecast yesterday, that the UK's economy will shrink 0.8%, the only shinkage in any of the world's G8 economies, worse even than Russia's. Figures that the Chancellor, Jeremy Hunt, disputes.
Only one constituency in the UK is still pro-Brexit, in two others its 50/50, the rest think its gone badly and/or would like to rejoin the EU.
Brexit failed on the promises it was voted for in the referendum: there is no more money for the EU, food is not cheaper, our borders are not in control and democracy has not been returned to Parliament, instead the latter is more and more in the hands of Ministers who act via Statuatory Instruments, with little or no scrutiny.
And the country is poorer, more divided than it has ever been. And until the reason for this are discussed and the course changed, neither will Brexit, the UK or our prosperity change either.
And Brexit still is not done. over three years on from the last election, neither Johnson, Truss or the current PM have a finished version. There is talk of a new agreement on the NIP soon, but that would have to be passed in Westminster, get past the ERG, the DUP, which it might, but without their support can Sunak survive as Leader, relying on the Opposition to get policies through?
Of course, one of the most positive pro-Brexit stories was the formation of the UK based British Volt electric car battery company and factory, which collapsed last week as a result of the interdependance of supply chains and inflexibility of Brexit Britain. On top of the collapse of the UK car industry, now at its lowest volume since before the war, the need for UK components on finished vehicles for compliance with EU and Global rules of origin cannot be overstated.
Tuesday, 31 January 2023
Monday 30th January 2023
Back to work.
Though in a change, Jools wasn't going swimming first thing, nor going to work. At all. No, she had a spa day booked with a colleague from work, and with that starting at half nine, it gave her the chance of a lay in, then a slow start before going out at half seven for a walk round Sandwich, and wait for a shop to open to buy a cup. I believe its a very fine cup.
That left me at home, not fully awake and in a foul mood.
I set up the office and logged on, one by one the systems coming online until after about twenty minutes, Outlook loads, so I could check the calendar for what delights it had in store for me.
The main issue for me was travel expenses.
Travel for work might be fine, and free. Mostly. But after you get back there is the expense report, and the computers spewing out random messages about why its rejected your report.
First I had to call the car hire place for the final invoice, then photograph each receipt now that the scanner has broken and gone to the great recycling place in the sky. Download the images onto my computer, send via mail to my work account as the work computer has no memory card slots.
Wait for them to arrive, then add to the report. Fix the error messages and send.
That's two hours gone and so time for the first meeting.
A meeting about a meeting.
Then another meeting. A meeting about a previous meeting.
Crushed by the wheels of industry.
Woo hoo!
I have lunch, and things settle down. I can clear some issues in the database that make it look like I do work.
Which is nice.
At three I go to fill up the bird feeders in the sunshine. There might be sunshine, but I was jolly cold. Beyond that, and my legs and I agree it was too cold to go out for a walk that evening, so I put the badger food out, which means I wouldn't be going outside for the rest of the day.
I go back inside and think about dinner. Nothing fancy, warmed up chicken, stuffing, pigs in blankets, gravy, Yorskshires, fresh steamed veg and fresh roast potatoes.
And fizz.
Easy to prepare, but magnificent to eat, and a real treat to have washed down with fizz.
We clear away and wash up, make coffee and sit down to chill the evening away. Footy on the telebox, though I went to bed at nine as West Ham were cruising at Derby.
I did spend most of the evening making final plans and arrangements for our trip to Svalbard in June. Turns out we forgot to book a flight from Olso to Svalbard, good job we checked.
Though in a change, Jools wasn't going swimming first thing, nor going to work. At all. No, she had a spa day booked with a colleague from work, and with that starting at half nine, it gave her the chance of a lay in, then a slow start before going out at half seven for a walk round Sandwich, and wait for a shop to open to buy a cup. I believe its a very fine cup.
That left me at home, not fully awake and in a foul mood.
I set up the office and logged on, one by one the systems coming online until after about twenty minutes, Outlook loads, so I could check the calendar for what delights it had in store for me.
The main issue for me was travel expenses.
Travel for work might be fine, and free. Mostly. But after you get back there is the expense report, and the computers spewing out random messages about why its rejected your report.
First I had to call the car hire place for the final invoice, then photograph each receipt now that the scanner has broken and gone to the great recycling place in the sky. Download the images onto my computer, send via mail to my work account as the work computer has no memory card slots.
Wait for them to arrive, then add to the report. Fix the error messages and send.
That's two hours gone and so time for the first meeting.
A meeting about a meeting.
Then another meeting. A meeting about a previous meeting.
Crushed by the wheels of industry.
Woo hoo!
I have lunch, and things settle down. I can clear some issues in the database that make it look like I do work.
Which is nice.
At three I go to fill up the bird feeders in the sunshine. There might be sunshine, but I was jolly cold. Beyond that, and my legs and I agree it was too cold to go out for a walk that evening, so I put the badger food out, which means I wouldn't be going outside for the rest of the day.
I go back inside and think about dinner. Nothing fancy, warmed up chicken, stuffing, pigs in blankets, gravy, Yorskshires, fresh steamed veg and fresh roast potatoes. And fizz.
Easy to prepare, but magnificent to eat, and a real treat to have washed down with fizz.
We clear away and wash up, make coffee and sit down to chill the evening away. Footy on the telebox, though I went to bed at nine as West Ham were cruising at Derby.
I did spend most of the evening making final plans and arrangements for our trip to Svalbard in June. Turns out we forgot to book a flight from Olso to Svalbard, good job we checked.
Monday, 30 January 2023
Sunday 29th January 2023
Not much to report on today.
Except to say, it was a day long in the planning. I had bought a cheap, huge (6.6Kg) chicken back in November to serve as a surrogate Christmas turkey for when Jen returned home from Oz.
And now she was back, we could have the second family Christmas dinner. Even if the first one was just the two of us. On Boxing Day, as we had gone out on the big day itself.
We had remembered to get the bird, stuffing and pigs in blankets out of the freezer on Saturday, and the chicken had its weight marked, so no need for me to weigh it again. And like all the best things, it pays to prepare: so worked out the cooking, resting times, as well as timings for the stuffing and pigs in blankets. Vegetables took half an hour to cook alongside the roast potatoes and Yorkshire puddings.
With that all done, and satisfied that cooking would begin at twenty to eleven, meaning we had time for breakfast, coffee, second coffee and second breakfast. Then have a shower, shave and look all lovely.
We spent the morning, not only preparing ounch but cleaning the house, changing the kitty litter and vacuuming. So, by half ten both the house and us looked spick and span. I oiled and seasoned the chicken, wrapped the tin in foil and began the two and a bt hours cooking. And then peeled the potatoes, set them to boil and mix the Yorkshire pudding batter.
Soon the house was filleld with the fine smell of the chicken cooking.
The chicken was done at one, byt then Jen arrived, and then came Mike with his new partner, Helen. While they had wine and chatted in the living room, I went into the kitchen to begin the final stages, under so much control that there was little stress, until all stuff came together at the same time. I carved then dished up, Jools helped, and so at ten to two, we all sat down with refilled glasses, wished each other Merry Christmas, and tucked in.
Damn, that was fine eatin'. Even most of the extra roast potatoes went too, and most of the pigs in blankets.
Jools and Jen washed up, whle I tried to stay awake, then Jools, Mike and Helen told tales of their childhoods and schooldays in Kearsney, friends they lost contact with and thrills and spills they did.
They went home at half four, by which time Liverpool were already out of the cup, so I watched Wrexham play Sheffield Utd fight out an exciting 3-3 draw.
By the time that finished, it was half six, and the end of the weekend was hoving into view.
Sadly.
Except to say, it was a day long in the planning. I had bought a cheap, huge (6.6Kg) chicken back in November to serve as a surrogate Christmas turkey for when Jen returned home from Oz.
And now she was back, we could have the second family Christmas dinner. Even if the first one was just the two of us. On Boxing Day, as we had gone out on the big day itself.
We had remembered to get the bird, stuffing and pigs in blankets out of the freezer on Saturday, and the chicken had its weight marked, so no need for me to weigh it again. And like all the best things, it pays to prepare: so worked out the cooking, resting times, as well as timings for the stuffing and pigs in blankets. Vegetables took half an hour to cook alongside the roast potatoes and Yorkshire puddings.
With that all done, and satisfied that cooking would begin at twenty to eleven, meaning we had time for breakfast, coffee, second coffee and second breakfast. Then have a shower, shave and look all lovely.
We spent the morning, not only preparing ounch but cleaning the house, changing the kitty litter and vacuuming. So, by half ten both the house and us looked spick and span. I oiled and seasoned the chicken, wrapped the tin in foil and began the two and a bt hours cooking. And then peeled the potatoes, set them to boil and mix the Yorkshire pudding batter.
Soon the house was filleld with the fine smell of the chicken cooking.
The chicken was done at one, byt then Jen arrived, and then came Mike with his new partner, Helen. While they had wine and chatted in the living room, I went into the kitchen to begin the final stages, under so much control that there was little stress, until all stuff came together at the same time. I carved then dished up, Jools helped, and so at ten to two, we all sat down with refilled glasses, wished each other Merry Christmas, and tucked in.
Damn, that was fine eatin'. Even most of the extra roast potatoes went too, and most of the pigs in blankets.Jools and Jen washed up, whle I tried to stay awake, then Jools, Mike and Helen told tales of their childhoods and schooldays in Kearsney, friends they lost contact with and thrills and spills they did.
They went home at half four, by which time Liverpool were already out of the cup, so I watched Wrexham play Sheffield Utd fight out an exciting 3-3 draw.
By the time that finished, it was half six, and the end of the weekend was hoving into view.
Sadly.
The sack race
Over the weekend, in a move that surprised few, the PM sacked Chairman of the Party, Nadhim Zahawi for breaking the Ministerial Code in 7 different ways.
I mean if you're gonna be bad, be really bad.
But, what this shows, that in the end, the constitution worked here.
And the reporting of his crimes in tax avoidance was made public.
But that final part was threatened, but Nadhim Zahawi threatening reporters if they were to print those stories. It should not be wrong for reporters to publish stories that are reporting fact, not that the rich use the courts to silence uncomfortable stories.
Last year, the UK Government allowed the head of Russia's private army, Wagner Group, to break sanctions and sue a UK based reporter for a story, which turned out to be true. That such actions had to be specially allowed by the Government in the wake of the Russian invasion of Ukraine tells you all you really need to know about where the Conservative Party gets their money and do favours for.
Sunak appointed Nadhim Zahawi even after a lot of what turned out to be true was revealled. There were warnings even if Nadhim Zahawi denied them. On record.
Sunak was supposed to have ushered in a new era of responsible and honest Government.
Well, that hasn't lasted 100 days.
What we need now is the application of the Ministerial Code to be used to the same standard to the rest of the Cabinet, and get honesty back into UK Politics and Government.
But not holding my breath on that one
I mean if you're gonna be bad, be really bad.
But, what this shows, that in the end, the constitution worked here.
And the reporting of his crimes in tax avoidance was made public.
But that final part was threatened, but Nadhim Zahawi threatening reporters if they were to print those stories. It should not be wrong for reporters to publish stories that are reporting fact, not that the rich use the courts to silence uncomfortable stories.
Last year, the UK Government allowed the head of Russia's private army, Wagner Group, to break sanctions and sue a UK based reporter for a story, which turned out to be true. That such actions had to be specially allowed by the Government in the wake of the Russian invasion of Ukraine tells you all you really need to know about where the Conservative Party gets their money and do favours for.
Sunak appointed Nadhim Zahawi even after a lot of what turned out to be true was revealled. There were warnings even if Nadhim Zahawi denied them. On record.
Sunak was supposed to have ushered in a new era of responsible and honest Government.
Well, that hasn't lasted 100 days.
What we need now is the application of the Ministerial Code to be used to the same standard to the rest of the Cabinet, and get honesty back into UK Politics and Government.
But not holding my breath on that one
Sunday, 29 January 2023
Saturday 28th January 2023
The last weekend of the month, and the first after pay day, which means I could order some socks. And at Tesco I could replenish the wine stocks with a box of 3l of te cheapest red.
Being the end of January, it is now getting light when we set off for Tesco, the neon lights of the retail park at Whitfield as daylight grows stronger. Somehow we had used double the fuel as last week, with only an half hour's drive to Stodmarsh last week being the extra driving we did.
Tesco has Valentine's cards, presents and also Easter eggs and other stuff celebrating days in the forthcoming months.
We had a list of stuff to get, not just beer and wine, and lots of vegetables as we are having Jen, Mike and his new girlfriend over for lunch on Sunday.
If I remember to get the chicken out of the freezer, of course.
That all done, and somehow, ten quid cheaper than last week even with wine and Belgian beer, we headed home for first breakfast, coffee, then bacon butties and more brews once we had put the shopping away.
At ten we went out, only for a warning light to come on as the engine turned over. It seems a bulb in the headlight had gone, but the car knew which one it was. On the way to Lyminge, there is a Halfords, now that the one on Dover closed over the pandemic, so we tootled along the A20, over the top of Shakespeare Down and into town.
Jools found the bulb and a nice young lady fitted it for us, getting access from the wheelarch via a small panel. All done in ten minutes for fifteen quid.
And road legal again.
Back onto the motorway for the one junction before taking the turning for the back road to Hythe, though we headed inland through Etchinghill to Lyminge. And I realised it was years since we had driven this road, as we have been coming to the orchid fields through Barham usually, not from Folkestone.
The road climbs and turns round the foot of the downs before levelling out as it approaches Lyminge.
We go through the village, past the rows of the parked cars, and the small library in the building of the village railway station once the line from Folkestone to Canterbury closed at the end of the 50s.
The village of Lyminge stretches along the main road and around the former station, but the church is situated a short way along Church Street (of course), on a low mound, from under which the largest winterbourne, The Nailbourne, rises. It has been a site of worship since Roman times, maybe even before then.
We were here because in 2019, major excavations revealed the remains of the 7th century chapel of Queen Ethelburga. It was uncovered under the path that now leads under the single flying buttress to the porch, and since the dig ended, the path relaid, but with the outline of the chapel clearly showing in different colour tarmac.
I photographed the stained glass, as the ongoing plan to revisit churches already done, but with the big lens as I always seem to find something new to do in them. This time the glass through the big glass of the zoom lens.
Before leaving we walk down to the Well to revisit the source of the Nailbourne, some twenty feet below the road, the clear and cold waters of the bourne come bubbling out of the ground before meandering across the verdant meadow.
We set the sat nav for home, and it leads us down to the bottom of the valley and up the other side through Acris. The bed of the Nailbourne was already dry, despite it being just a mile from the source, because the water table isn't high enough, and the water seeps through the chalk bedrock instead.
We travel down lanes that got ever narrower, with grass growing between the wheeltracks. The road much less travelled for sure.
At Swingfield, we were greeted by the sweep of a hedge made of native dogwood, its new shoots showing starkly red in the sunshine against the clear blue sky. We stop to take shots.
We get home in time for a brew and a chocolate bar before the football was going to start. But I had other plans, as I made tagine for our early dinner. Which, we ate before four as it smelled so darned good bubbling away in the oven.
Some flavoured couscous to go with it, and a glass of red vin out of the box.
Lovely.
Scully and I sit on the sofa until half seven in the evening, either listening to the reports of the three o'clock games, or watching the evening kick off.
Being the end of January, it is now getting light when we set off for Tesco, the neon lights of the retail park at Whitfield as daylight grows stronger. Somehow we had used double the fuel as last week, with only an half hour's drive to Stodmarsh last week being the extra driving we did.
Tesco has Valentine's cards, presents and also Easter eggs and other stuff celebrating days in the forthcoming months.
We had a list of stuff to get, not just beer and wine, and lots of vegetables as we are having Jen, Mike and his new girlfriend over for lunch on Sunday.
If I remember to get the chicken out of the freezer, of course.That all done, and somehow, ten quid cheaper than last week even with wine and Belgian beer, we headed home for first breakfast, coffee, then bacon butties and more brews once we had put the shopping away.
At ten we went out, only for a warning light to come on as the engine turned over. It seems a bulb in the headlight had gone, but the car knew which one it was. On the way to Lyminge, there is a Halfords, now that the one on Dover closed over the pandemic, so we tootled along the A20, over the top of Shakespeare Down and into town.
Jools found the bulb and a nice young lady fitted it for us, getting access from the wheelarch via a small panel. All done in ten minutes for fifteen quid.And road legal again.
Back onto the motorway for the one junction before taking the turning for the back road to Hythe, though we headed inland through Etchinghill to Lyminge. And I realised it was years since we had driven this road, as we have been coming to the orchid fields through Barham usually, not from Folkestone.
The road climbs and turns round the foot of the downs before levelling out as it approaches Lyminge.We go through the village, past the rows of the parked cars, and the small library in the building of the village railway station once the line from Folkestone to Canterbury closed at the end of the 50s.
The village of Lyminge stretches along the main road and around the former station, but the church is situated a short way along Church Street (of course), on a low mound, from under which the largest winterbourne, The Nailbourne, rises. It has been a site of worship since Roman times, maybe even before then.
We were here because in 2019, major excavations revealed the remains of the 7th century chapel of Queen Ethelburga. It was uncovered under the path that now leads under the single flying buttress to the porch, and since the dig ended, the path relaid, but with the outline of the chapel clearly showing in different colour tarmac.
I photographed the stained glass, as the ongoing plan to revisit churches already done, but with the big lens as I always seem to find something new to do in them. This time the glass through the big glass of the zoom lens.
Before leaving we walk down to the Well to revisit the source of the Nailbourne, some twenty feet below the road, the clear and cold waters of the bourne come bubbling out of the ground before meandering across the verdant meadow.
We set the sat nav for home, and it leads us down to the bottom of the valley and up the other side through Acris. The bed of the Nailbourne was already dry, despite it being just a mile from the source, because the water table isn't high enough, and the water seeps through the chalk bedrock instead.
We travel down lanes that got ever narrower, with grass growing between the wheeltracks. The road much less travelled for sure.At Swingfield, we were greeted by the sweep of a hedge made of native dogwood, its new shoots showing starkly red in the sunshine against the clear blue sky. We stop to take shots.
We get home in time for a brew and a chocolate bar before the football was going to start. But I had other plans, as I made tagine for our early dinner. Which, we ate before four as it smelled so darned good bubbling away in the oven.Some flavoured couscous to go with it, and a glass of red vin out of the box.
Lovely.
Scully and I sit on the sofa until half seven in the evening, either listening to the reports of the three o'clock games, or watching the evening kick off.
Saturday, 28 January 2023
Friday 27th January 2023
Pay day!
Yes, its the end of the week, maning that from sometime after lunch we will be able to do what we want, doubly so as it was pay day.
Jools went to yoga at six, and I faffed around until seven, when I logged on to work and finished the audit report and sent it off for comments.
Its a bit of a grenade if I'm honest, it won't go off until next week.
Monday should be a day of meetings, but one got cancelled and again the guy ddn't turn up for the second. Again.
It was a slow day. I waited for stuff to happen, which didn't.
I had lunch, did the end of week admin and logged off.
Yay.
Jools also finished at one, though she went for a haircut on the way back so didn't get back home until three, which was time enough for a brew and a slice of bread and jam for Jools before we went to Whitfield.
Because Jen came home on Tuesday, and this was our first real chance to see her since then. It was October 24th when she left, so we have much catching up to do. Being the first week of cards and her first week back, I said we'd go early and I would forego the music quiz.
Jools was sitting in the living room with several jumpers on, the fire was on full and she was shivering. A week ago she was sitting on the beach in Australia in the middle of their summer, now she is back in Blighty, and thing is, once a house gets cold, real cold, it takes days for the briks and mortar to warm up again. Its nearly there, but not quite.
And Jen has been used to Oz temperatures for three months!
So, we talk for an hour. John arrives and then Mike too. At half five, Jools goes out to collect a Chinese takeaway, and we dine like (Chinese) Kings and Queens.
After clearing up, we settle down for cards and finish off the bottles of wine. We laugh and do small scale gambling, no one losing any more than a few pennies a hand.
We wrap up at nine, Jen wins big. By big I mean she won maybe £1.50. Jools drives us home, along empty streets back to the village where I watch the second half of the Citeh v Arse game.
Yes, its the end of the week, maning that from sometime after lunch we will be able to do what we want, doubly so as it was pay day.
Jools went to yoga at six, and I faffed around until seven, when I logged on to work and finished the audit report and sent it off for comments.
Its a bit of a grenade if I'm honest, it won't go off until next week.
Monday should be a day of meetings, but one got cancelled and again the guy ddn't turn up for the second. Again.
It was a slow day. I waited for stuff to happen, which didn't.I had lunch, did the end of week admin and logged off.
Yay.
Jools also finished at one, though she went for a haircut on the way back so didn't get back home until three, which was time enough for a brew and a slice of bread and jam for Jools before we went to Whitfield.
Because Jen came home on Tuesday, and this was our first real chance to see her since then. It was October 24th when she left, so we have much catching up to do. Being the first week of cards and her first week back, I said we'd go early and I would forego the music quiz.
Jools was sitting in the living room with several jumpers on, the fire was on full and she was shivering. A week ago she was sitting on the beach in Australia in the middle of their summer, now she is back in Blighty, and thing is, once a house gets cold, real cold, it takes days for the briks and mortar to warm up again. Its nearly there, but not quite.
And Jen has been used to Oz temperatures for three months!
So, we talk for an hour. John arrives and then Mike too. At half five, Jools goes out to collect a Chinese takeaway, and we dine like (Chinese) Kings and Queens.
After clearing up, we settle down for cards and finish off the bottles of wine. We laugh and do small scale gambling, no one losing any more than a few pennies a hand.We wrap up at nine, Jen wins big. By big I mean she won maybe £1.50. Jools drives us home, along empty streets back to the village where I watch the second half of the Citeh v Arse game.
Friday, 27 January 2023
Thursday 26th January 2023
We have nearly made it to the weekend. And in fact I am writing this on Friday afternoon having just packed up for the week. Which means we have done it.
But before then there is Thursday to get through, and for the day, the main task will be wriing an audit report.
Not to get into too much detail, but the biggest pain is knowing there is something wrong, but finding the correct clause(s) in the standard(s) to use to raise a finding againt.
Sometimes these will be obvious, most of the time, less so. A simple task of reporting on a two day audit can take all day, sometimes two days longer than the audit, to write the report for.
So, in order to prepare for the day, and have the energy for all that thinking, a strong mug of coffee or three would be needed.
And silence.
Cats say "meow".
Jools went to work at seven, leaving me to make breakfast and set up the office as usual, then eyes down and soon, thoughts turn to lunch.
There was a tub of soup in the fridge, but some bread would be nice to go with it, to dunk.
So I made a loaf.
Mixed up the dough, added seeds and left to rise.
Kneaded down.
Left to rise a second time and then baked.
I'd try a slice. A crust just to see if it was good enough. Straight out of the oven I cut a crust, butter it and put on some apricot jam.
It was so good I had to have a second slice. And an hour later a third.
Just to be sure.
I did not now need the soup.
I finished the report just before three, and once packing away the office, I go out to do some gardening. No much, but some.
Some is a strong word. A little then.
But the giant grass and verbena is blocking the path, so I cet the shears out and cut them down, gather the clippings and bag them up.
At least the path is usable, though not tidy. But it was too cold to be out for long, but there'd be other days to do weeding.
Back inside I have a brew, then make the batter for fritters, having them ready as Jools walked in the door at quarter to six. Eatch batch is slightly, or very different. This was quite spicy as I used the last of a batch of spice.
Spicy.
And washed it down with the last of the red wine in the box.
I had suffered a sligh migraine in the afternoon, so switched the laptop off in the evening, istened to to the radio, and i bed by nine.
But before then there is Thursday to get through, and for the day, the main task will be wriing an audit report.
Not to get into too much detail, but the biggest pain is knowing there is something wrong, but finding the correct clause(s) in the standard(s) to use to raise a finding againt.
Sometimes these will be obvious, most of the time, less so. A simple task of reporting on a two day audit can take all day, sometimes two days longer than the audit, to write the report for.
So, in order to prepare for the day, and have the energy for all that thinking, a strong mug of coffee or three would be needed.
And silence.
Cats say "meow".
Jools went to work at seven, leaving me to make breakfast and set up the office as usual, then eyes down and soon, thoughts turn to lunch.
There was a tub of soup in the fridge, but some bread would be nice to go with it, to dunk.
So I made a loaf.
Mixed up the dough, added seeds and left to rise.
Kneaded down.
Left to rise a second time and then baked.
I'd try a slice. A crust just to see if it was good enough. Straight out of the oven I cut a crust, butter it and put on some apricot jam.
It was so good I had to have a second slice. And an hour later a third.
Just to be sure.
I did not now need the soup.
I finished the report just before three, and once packing away the office, I go out to do some gardening. No much, but some.
Some is a strong word. A little then.
But the giant grass and verbena is blocking the path, so I cet the shears out and cut them down, gather the clippings and bag them up.
At least the path is usable, though not tidy. But it was too cold to be out for long, but there'd be other days to do weeding.Back inside I have a brew, then make the batter for fritters, having them ready as Jools walked in the door at quarter to six. Eatch batch is slightly, or very different. This was quite spicy as I used the last of a batch of spice.
Spicy.
And washed it down with the last of the red wine in the box.
I had suffered a sligh migraine in the afternoon, so switched the laptop off in the evening, istened to to the radio, and i bed by nine.
Thursday, 26 January 2023
Wednesday 25th January 2023
Wednesday, and another day at the coalface, though there was no coal involved.
Was supposed to be a fine day, but the cloud never cleared, and in the afternoon mist drifted in and temperatures dropped to just above freezing.
Jools started the day with heading off early for another session in the pool, and I had a good podcast to listen to. Nice to drink a fresh coffee too, with the cats settling down for a hard day's snoozing with only the occasional demand for food.
But I did go for a walk, and the ground conditions have improved so much I walked through the estate and out to the lower of the tracks before walking west to Station Road back home.
On my drive to Warrington and back, I listened to all my music in the i tunes library, so now have been searching for podcasts to listen to, and on this walk was treated to the latest The Sound of Football podcast
Meanwhile, back in our garden, the carpet of green leaves have produced their first Sweet Violet, self seeded, and so the season begins once again.
Back home I made jambalaya for dinner, with chicken, chorizo, tomatoes, spices and rice.
Not as fierce as gumbo, and takes about half the time to cook too.
Football again in the evening, though I give up at half time with Man Yoo 2-0 up against Forest.
Was supposed to be a fine day, but the cloud never cleared, and in the afternoon mist drifted in and temperatures dropped to just above freezing.
Jools started the day with heading off early for another session in the pool, and I had a good podcast to listen to. Nice to drink a fresh coffee too, with the cats settling down for a hard day's snoozing with only the occasional demand for food.
But I did go for a walk, and the ground conditions have improved so much I walked through the estate and out to the lower of the tracks before walking west to Station Road back home.
On my drive to Warrington and back, I listened to all my music in the i tunes library, so now have been searching for podcasts to listen to, and on this walk was treated to the latest The Sound of Football podcast
Meanwhile, back in our garden, the carpet of green leaves have produced their first Sweet Violet, self seeded, and so the season begins once again.Back home I made jambalaya for dinner, with chicken, chorizo, tomatoes, spices and rice.
Not as fierce as gumbo, and takes about half the time to cook too.
Football again in the evening, though I give up at half time with Man Yoo 2-0 up against Forest.
The official people traffickers
136 child migrants have gone missing from a hotel in Brighton, some being kidnapped and bundled into cars out on the street, and nothing is apparently being done. And few in Government seem to care, one even made a joke in Parliament about it yesterday.
I have suggested that the UK Government is in a symbiotic relationship in France with the supply and new of refugees crossing the Channel in small boats. Now we fnd that those who survive the crossing and treatment at Manston are being trafficked inside the country as well.
Government's anwers is to make migrants even more criminal, under UK law, than they currently are. Depsite being a migrant is no against international law, what with there being UN charters and treaties about it.
Thing about a border is that they have two sides, you can pass laws and so on, on one side, but there is little that can be done the other side, especially if under say, French as well as international law, the crossing of the Channel isn't against laws there.
In the past, someone who has arrived in the UK and failed to claim asylum or leave to stay here on first application or appeals, could have been sent back to the country they departed from to arrive here, under the EU's Dublin Agreement. But the UK Government failed to undertake such an agreement after the UK left the EU, so all migrants who arrive here have to say here, unless they home country will accept them back, and then if their lives are not in peril.
Like many areas of policy, Brexit itself isn't to blame for this, but Brexit, and the form that May and Johnson chose has made the situation much worse than need be. Is this that it is politically convenient to still blame the EU of France for the UK Government's onw ongoing policy failures?
I have suggested that the UK Government is in a symbiotic relationship in France with the supply and new of refugees crossing the Channel in small boats. Now we fnd that those who survive the crossing and treatment at Manston are being trafficked inside the country as well.
Government's anwers is to make migrants even more criminal, under UK law, than they currently are. Depsite being a migrant is no against international law, what with there being UN charters and treaties about it.
Thing about a border is that they have two sides, you can pass laws and so on, on one side, but there is little that can be done the other side, especially if under say, French as well as international law, the crossing of the Channel isn't against laws there.
In the past, someone who has arrived in the UK and failed to claim asylum or leave to stay here on first application or appeals, could have been sent back to the country they departed from to arrive here, under the EU's Dublin Agreement. But the UK Government failed to undertake such an agreement after the UK left the EU, so all migrants who arrive here have to say here, unless they home country will accept them back, and then if their lives are not in peril.
Like many areas of policy, Brexit itself isn't to blame for this, but Brexit, and the form that May and Johnson chose has made the situation much worse than need be. Is this that it is politically convenient to still blame the EU of France for the UK Government's onw ongoing policy failures?
Wednesday, 25 January 2023
Tuesday 24th January 2023
Tuesday.
And all I had to look forward to was a seven hour audit, via Teams, with a site in Germany. Which meant I would be sitting at the dining room table for most of the day.
Its work, apparently.
So, we get up, feed the cats and make coffee, check on the world and then gird our loins for work at seven.
It was a late start for the audit as there had been an important meeting planned, which has since been cancelled. So, I check mails and find which systems were working this fine day.
So at nine, eyes down for the audit; and let the chaos begin.
At three, I was done and it seemed light enough to go for a walk. In fact, it didn't really get that dark until quarter to five, even though it was very cloudy.
Maybe spring is really just round the corner?
For the three months to Christmas, we had rain followed by lots of rain. But not much for a couple of weeks, so instead of walking up and down the streets, I set off down our street, and along the track at the end of it, over the fields to Fleet House.
It was cloudy colours were subdued, and few flowers could be found beside the path. Further on the two Shetland Ponies in the small paddock were away of my approach, even if the only the white one came to check for sugar cubes.
I went down Norway Drove to the top of The Dip. It was muddy, and getting dark. I will try it next week, but for now, time to retrace my footsteps and head for home, as it would soon be time to cook dinner.
But, the flat flight continued until nearly five, so it seemed nearly an hour's more light than a month ago.
Dnner was fishcakes, whole wheat noodles and stir fry. Quick and easy.
Scully and I would sit on the sofa through the evening and enjoy the League Cup semi final between Southampton and Newcastle.
And all I had to look forward to was a seven hour audit, via Teams, with a site in Germany. Which meant I would be sitting at the dining room table for most of the day.
Its work, apparently.So, we get up, feed the cats and make coffee, check on the world and then gird our loins for work at seven.
It was a late start for the audit as there had been an important meeting planned, which has since been cancelled. So, I check mails and find which systems were working this fine day.
So at nine, eyes down for the audit; and let the chaos begin.
At three, I was done and it seemed light enough to go for a walk. In fact, it didn't really get that dark until quarter to five, even though it was very cloudy.
Maybe spring is really just round the corner?For the three months to Christmas, we had rain followed by lots of rain. But not much for a couple of weeks, so instead of walking up and down the streets, I set off down our street, and along the track at the end of it, over the fields to Fleet House.
It was cloudy colours were subdued, and few flowers could be found beside the path. Further on the two Shetland Ponies in the small paddock were away of my approach, even if the only the white one came to check for sugar cubes.
I went down Norway Drove to the top of The Dip. It was muddy, and getting dark. I will try it next week, but for now, time to retrace my footsteps and head for home, as it would soon be time to cook dinner.
But, the flat flight continued until nearly five, so it seemed nearly an hour's more light than a month ago.
Dnner was fishcakes, whole wheat noodles and stir fry. Quick and easy.Scully and I would sit on the sofa through the evening and enjoy the League Cup semi final between Southampton and Newcastle.
Tuesday, 24 January 2023
Monday 23rd January 2023
Not much to report on Monday.
Monday is a long, long way from Friday. And no travel for me this week.
Up at five, Jools is all a blur as she is getting ready to go swimming before work, leaving the house at quarter to six, leaving behind me and the cats.
I try to summon up the enthusiasm for another working week by mainlining coffee.
I still wan't ready at seven, but I had to start.
Somewhere.
Most of the day is spent preparing for an audit I am doing over the next two days, so I write notes and answer some of the mails from last week.
Some.
Turns out there's not enugh hours in the day.
Who knew?
By the time three came, I go out to check the bird feeders, and in doing so I find it is much, much colder than it looks. My back suggests maybe to skip the afternoon walk.
My head agrees.
It felt like it was getting dark by four. In fact it was so dark through the day, the table lamp was never turned off. And out in the garden the two snowdrops that have been in bud for a week, still haven't open, and nearby there are no signs of any winter aconites either.
What there is, amazingly, is the white climbing rose, which has been in flower for months, still is, and in the coffee dregs of the afternoon, I snap the lowest of the blooms, and there is your picture of the day.
Dinner was to be Teriyaki Chicken, fried potatoes and a fresh batch of Boston Beans I spent most of the day cooking.
The beans were/are magnificent.
And there was wine.
Fulham v Spurs on the tellybox in the evening, watching it I shared space on the sofa with Scully, who bit me.
I probably deserved it.
So it goes, so it goes.
Monday is a long, long way from Friday. And no travel for me this week.
Up at five, Jools is all a blur as she is getting ready to go swimming before work, leaving the house at quarter to six, leaving behind me and the cats.
I try to summon up the enthusiasm for another working week by mainlining coffee.
I still wan't ready at seven, but I had to start.
Somewhere.
Most of the day is spent preparing for an audit I am doing over the next two days, so I write notes and answer some of the mails from last week.
Some.
Turns out there's not enugh hours in the day.
Who knew?
By the time three came, I go out to check the bird feeders, and in doing so I find it is much, much colder than it looks. My back suggests maybe to skip the afternoon walk.
My head agrees.
It felt like it was getting dark by four. In fact it was so dark through the day, the table lamp was never turned off. And out in the garden the two snowdrops that have been in bud for a week, still haven't open, and nearby there are no signs of any winter aconites either.
What there is, amazingly, is the white climbing rose, which has been in flower for months, still is, and in the coffee dregs of the afternoon, I snap the lowest of the blooms, and there is your picture of the day.
Dinner was to be Teriyaki Chicken, fried potatoes and a fresh batch of Boston Beans I spent most of the day cooking.The beans were/are magnificent.
And there was wine.
Fulham v Spurs on the tellybox in the evening, watching it I shared space on the sofa with Scully, who bit me.
I probably deserved it.
So it goes, so it goes.
Monday, 23 January 2023
Sunday 22nd January 2023
Welcome to the weekend. Still.
It was to be less sunny that Saturday, but worth going out.
Only Jools wanted to go to the sports centre for a remote class.
Or something.
We made it work.
So, after getting up at half seven, having coffee, we go out in the car to Folkestone for a walk and some light botanising.
As you know, we spend most of our visits to the town in and around the top of the Old High Street, but the town, and The Leas, the areas on the cliffs overlooking the sea, go on and on.
We drove over to Folkestone, parked behind The Leas and once putting our coats on, we walked through the narrow lane to the Leas, and turned south.
There is a wide area for walking, and in the past, to be seen walking, though that is now a thing of the past. Not much to see, a mix of new, brutalist flats and hotels, with the Victorian speandour of the Leas a quarter wile further on.
From The Leas there are a series of paths and tracks leading down to garden, and then further on to the beach. We walked on for a while, surprising a rat out scavanging for breakfast. Then turning down a steep track leading to the beach. Having to throw ourselves out of the way to avoind being run down by cyclists, we took to a steep set of steps for the last part to the beach.
All along the way wereworks of public art from the triennial arts festivals dating back to 2008. Public art is unusual in post-war England, so these works are really refreshing, and now more than a novelty.
The beach was quiet, a few preparing for a winter's dip, while others were walking their dogs, and we wandered on looking for a way back up to where the car was parked.
We ended up at the cliff lift, out of action for the best part of a decade, but it is being repaired, we hear. It operates by using water to make the lift going down heavier than the one coming up. Simple, cheap and causes no pollution. The entrance at beach level is a popular cafe now. We smelt bacon cooking, and were tempted, but walk on.
We were left with a steep climb back to The Leas, huffing and puffing in the now warming sunshine.
Under the celebration arch remembering those who gave their lives in the two world wars, from there it was a two minute walk back to the car.
A simple drive back through Capel and onto the A20 back into Dover and up Jubilee Way to home.
Time for a brew.
Lunch was chorizo hash, cooked once Jools was back from the sports centre, served with the last of the Adnam's Tally Ho! dark ale. Hash always delivers on the taste front, and the potatoes boiled and fried, deliver the required crunch.
Highlight of the afternoon was the game between the Arse and Utd, once a title decider unti it wasn't, but is again now. A fine game, end to end, the five goals with the Arse just edging it.
The last of the mince pies for supper along with the last brew of the day rounded the day off, meanwhile, Cleo was on the stairs looking at me to head to bed, so did at quarter past eight.
Phew, rock and roll!
It was to be less sunny that Saturday, but worth going out.
Only Jools wanted to go to the sports centre for a remote class.
Or something.
We made it work.
So, after getting up at half seven, having coffee, we go out in the car to Folkestone for a walk and some light botanising.
As you know, we spend most of our visits to the town in and around the top of the Old High Street, but the town, and The Leas, the areas on the cliffs overlooking the sea, go on and on.
We drove over to Folkestone, parked behind The Leas and once putting our coats on, we walked through the narrow lane to the Leas, and turned south.
There is a wide area for walking, and in the past, to be seen walking, though that is now a thing of the past. Not much to see, a mix of new, brutalist flats and hotels, with the Victorian speandour of the Leas a quarter wile further on.
From The Leas there are a series of paths and tracks leading down to garden, and then further on to the beach. We walked on for a while, surprising a rat out scavanging for breakfast. Then turning down a steep track leading to the beach. Having to throw ourselves out of the way to avoind being run down by cyclists, we took to a steep set of steps for the last part to the beach.
All along the way wereworks of public art from the triennial arts festivals dating back to 2008. Public art is unusual in post-war England, so these works are really refreshing, and now more than a novelty.
The beach was quiet, a few preparing for a winter's dip, while others were walking their dogs, and we wandered on looking for a way back up to where the car was parked.We ended up at the cliff lift, out of action for the best part of a decade, but it is being repaired, we hear. It operates by using water to make the lift going down heavier than the one coming up. Simple, cheap and causes no pollution. The entrance at beach level is a popular cafe now. We smelt bacon cooking, and were tempted, but walk on.
We were left with a steep climb back to The Leas, huffing and puffing in the now warming sunshine.
Under the celebration arch remembering those who gave their lives in the two world wars, from there it was a two minute walk back to the car.
A simple drive back through Capel and onto the A20 back into Dover and up Jubilee Way to home.
Time for a brew.
Lunch was chorizo hash, cooked once Jools was back from the sports centre, served with the last of the Adnam's Tally Ho! dark ale. Hash always delivers on the taste front, and the potatoes boiled and fried, deliver the required crunch.
Highlight of the afternoon was the game between the Arse and Utd, once a title decider unti it wasn't, but is again now. A fine game, end to end, the five goals with the Arse just edging it.
The last of the mince pies for supper along with the last brew of the day rounded the day off, meanwhile, Cleo was on the stairs looking at me to head to bed, so did at quarter past eight.
Phew, rock and roll!
New year, new chaos
Hello, and welcome to a review of Brexit and other chaos thanks o our ever wonderful Conservative Government.
1. The ex-Chancellor, Nadhim Zahawi, paid unpaid taxes and a fine to HMRC while he was Chacellor and the defacto head of HMRC, despite denying that any of this was the case. Paying taxes is something most of us small people have no choice in doing, but the rich and Ministers, apparently, it is. Not doing so is a clear breach of the Ministerial Code and should be a resignation matter.
Truth should matter, as should paying taxes when it is you that decides how other people's taxes are spent.
2. The Prime Minister received a fixed penalty notice for being filmed in the back of an official car without a seat belt on. He is now twich the criminal that Boris Johnson is. So much for a fresh start.
3. The aim of a £15 trillion export economy will now take, it has been estimated, an additional 15 years, thanks to Brexit.
4. The Inland Border Facility in Ashford is now almost unused as the checks on imports it was supposed to be carrying out have been delayed four times now, and there are doubts that it will ever be used. Its only current use is for checks on pets coming in from Ukraine, a task that should be taken over by the facility being built in Whitfield near Dover than is still being built.
5. Talks creep in between the UK and EU on the NIP, and there is optomism that an agreement can be reached, but the DUP and Brexit ultras in the ERG are likely to see any agreement as Brexit-treason, and won't accept it. An agreement that the DUP might like and signals a return to power sharing won't almost certainly be liked by the Republican side and they could refuse to rejoin using the same excuse as the DUP.
6. The Prime Minister has blocked Scottish legislation in self-certifcation of genger, something that was clearly in scope of the Scottish Parliament. This is in line, as I understand it, with most of Europe. The Scottish Government is going to appeal. But this comes to the heart of the Union: its not a Union if one part can bock laws and policies of another, it becomes a prison, and step by step, Westminster strengthens to case for Scottish independance.
7. The Government, despite having a majority, at least on paper, of 70 seats, only now Governs with the agreement of the Conservative Party's two extreme wings, meaning that for some policies, would only be passed with the support of the opposition. A Conswervative Leader who has less than 100% support of the Parliamentary Party isn't going to last long, but until this issue is tackled, the Party will be held hostage by the extremists.
8. Oh, and Johnson's friend helped arrange an £800,000 loan, and a month later Johnson made him Governor of the BBC, but no conflict of interest here, of course.
Other than that, happy days.
1. The ex-Chancellor, Nadhim Zahawi, paid unpaid taxes and a fine to HMRC while he was Chacellor and the defacto head of HMRC, despite denying that any of this was the case. Paying taxes is something most of us small people have no choice in doing, but the rich and Ministers, apparently, it is. Not doing so is a clear breach of the Ministerial Code and should be a resignation matter.
Truth should matter, as should paying taxes when it is you that decides how other people's taxes are spent.
2. The Prime Minister received a fixed penalty notice for being filmed in the back of an official car without a seat belt on. He is now twich the criminal that Boris Johnson is. So much for a fresh start.
3. The aim of a £15 trillion export economy will now take, it has been estimated, an additional 15 years, thanks to Brexit.
4. The Inland Border Facility in Ashford is now almost unused as the checks on imports it was supposed to be carrying out have been delayed four times now, and there are doubts that it will ever be used. Its only current use is for checks on pets coming in from Ukraine, a task that should be taken over by the facility being built in Whitfield near Dover than is still being built.
5. Talks creep in between the UK and EU on the NIP, and there is optomism that an agreement can be reached, but the DUP and Brexit ultras in the ERG are likely to see any agreement as Brexit-treason, and won't accept it. An agreement that the DUP might like and signals a return to power sharing won't almost certainly be liked by the Republican side and they could refuse to rejoin using the same excuse as the DUP.
6. The Prime Minister has blocked Scottish legislation in self-certifcation of genger, something that was clearly in scope of the Scottish Parliament. This is in line, as I understand it, with most of Europe. The Scottish Government is going to appeal. But this comes to the heart of the Union: its not a Union if one part can bock laws and policies of another, it becomes a prison, and step by step, Westminster strengthens to case for Scottish independance.
7. The Government, despite having a majority, at least on paper, of 70 seats, only now Governs with the agreement of the Conservative Party's two extreme wings, meaning that for some policies, would only be passed with the support of the opposition. A Conswervative Leader who has less than 100% support of the Parliamentary Party isn't going to last long, but until this issue is tackled, the Party will be held hostage by the extremists.
8. Oh, and Johnson's friend helped arrange an £800,000 loan, and a month later Johnson made him Governor of the BBC, but no conflict of interest here, of course.
Other than that, happy days.
Sunday, 22 January 2023
Saturday 21st January 2023
One month since the winter equinox, and five months until the summer one.
In truth, it is barely noticeable that it is getting lighter, though Jools says there is still light in the sky when she leaves work at five now. In the next month there will be ever more light per day, two or three more in both the morning and evening. Hopefully it won't be such a rush to go out after work to get steps in, and if the rain stays off, walking the lanes and tracks around here will be possible once again.
In fact, Saturday was to be a fine and sunny day, with light winds too, which meant I cancelled the churchcrawling for some walking in Stodmarsh nature reserve.
We were up fairly early, at six. So had coffee and woke up before going to Tesco.
Somehow, a weekly shop with no wine, cider, beer, washing tabs, or anything for the foodbank came to £140. We are struggling to see where it all went, though we can afford it, there are many who cannot.
We pay and head home for double breakfast of fruit, coffee followed by bacon butties and tea.
Variety is the spice of life, apparently.
Outside the clouds of earlier had cleared, there was clear blue skies. Best get out.
We drove to Sandwich then back inland along the Canterbury road before turning off for Preston, past the butchers and out on the marshes to Grove. There were a few cars, and for most of the two hours we were there, we met no other snappers, just on the way back four dogwalkers, the first two had their dogs off leads. I mean, what kind of moron takes dogs off the lead in a fucking nature reserve?
Early on the walk, I saw a marsh harrier circling, then land in the reeds a couple of hundred yards away. A buzzard flew across the marsh and performed a turn in the air to chase a smaller bird. I did snap the buzzard, but it was small in the viewfinder even at 400mm.
Not much else seen, four Mute Swans, two swimming in a ditch beside the path, and two more the other side of a five bar gate, eating grass.
We turned for home, again no Bearded Reedlings seen, and just Great Tits seen chirping happily in an old tree at the edge of the reserve.
Back at the car, we change out of our muddy boots and head for home. We call in at the butchers for some steak, it was then that we remembered that Norwich had kicked off at half twelve, so Jools checked the score: 2-3 to Norwich, but Norwich had been 3 up after just 18 minutes!
I raced home so I could watch the second half, City score one more to win 4-2, but give the ball away so much in midfield, that's going to have to be cut out.
Which meant I could relax and chuckle at the main batch of games at three with our "local" rivals losing, as did Everton.
I made chilli through the afternoon. A huge pan of it, which we had for dinner, with loads in containers to be frozen for meals in the next few weeks.
More football in the evening, but no goals as Palace at The Toon fought out a frantic 0-0 draw.
Phew.
In truth, it is barely noticeable that it is getting lighter, though Jools says there is still light in the sky when she leaves work at five now. In the next month there will be ever more light per day, two or three more in both the morning and evening. Hopefully it won't be such a rush to go out after work to get steps in, and if the rain stays off, walking the lanes and tracks around here will be possible once again.
In fact, Saturday was to be a fine and sunny day, with light winds too, which meant I cancelled the churchcrawling for some walking in Stodmarsh nature reserve.We were up fairly early, at six. So had coffee and woke up before going to Tesco.
Somehow, a weekly shop with no wine, cider, beer, washing tabs, or anything for the foodbank came to £140. We are struggling to see where it all went, though we can afford it, there are many who cannot.
We pay and head home for double breakfast of fruit, coffee followed by bacon butties and tea.
Variety is the spice of life, apparently.
Outside the clouds of earlier had cleared, there was clear blue skies. Best get out.
We drove to Sandwich then back inland along the Canterbury road before turning off for Preston, past the butchers and out on the marshes to Grove. There were a few cars, and for most of the two hours we were there, we met no other snappers, just on the way back four dogwalkers, the first two had their dogs off leads. I mean, what kind of moron takes dogs off the lead in a fucking nature reserve?
Early on the walk, I saw a marsh harrier circling, then land in the reeds a couple of hundred yards away. A buzzard flew across the marsh and performed a turn in the air to chase a smaller bird. I did snap the buzzard, but it was small in the viewfinder even at 400mm.
Not much else seen, four Mute Swans, two swimming in a ditch beside the path, and two more the other side of a five bar gate, eating grass.
We turned for home, again no Bearded Reedlings seen, and just Great Tits seen chirping happily in an old tree at the edge of the reserve.Back at the car, we change out of our muddy boots and head for home. We call in at the butchers for some steak, it was then that we remembered that Norwich had kicked off at half twelve, so Jools checked the score: 2-3 to Norwich, but Norwich had been 3 up after just 18 minutes!
I raced home so I could watch the second half, City score one more to win 4-2, but give the ball away so much in midfield, that's going to have to be cut out.
Which meant I could relax and chuckle at the main batch of games at three with our "local" rivals losing, as did Everton.
I made chilli through the afternoon. A huge pan of it, which we had for dinner, with loads in containers to be frozen for meals in the next few weeks.
More football in the evening, but no goals as Palace at The Toon fought out a frantic 0-0 draw.
Phew.
Saturday, 21 January 2023
Friday 20th January 2023
And back home.
But.
Its a Friday and that means: meetings.
Lots of meetings.
Just about constant meetings from seven all the way until two, with just a couple of half hour breaks between.
We slept through the alarm, which mean Jools had just 15 minutes to get up, get dressed and get her lunch together before she had to leave for her yoga class, that she had forgotten to book.
Meaning that twenty minutes after getting up, I was alone. Or how alone can you be with four cats, and Cleo who seems to find everything I do worth watching?
I put out the bins. Make a second coffee and have a bowl of grape nuts, then set up the computer for work.
Deep breath....
Cease fire, we're going in.
Meetings. Meetings about other meetings. And meetings to discuss previous and future meetings.
There was time for crumpets for lunch, before a final hour-long meeting with my interim boss about stuff I am going to be expected to do. We talked about the department meeting earlier where in response to our (department's) request for clarity about how to get a pay rise, a lady from global HR came in and talked for half an hour about personal development.
Any questions, she asked.
I spoke up and made the point that us in the department with all of us having over a decade's experience in the company, were irreplaceable, but if we wanted to earn more money, we would have to find another job either in our outside the company. Our knowledge of how the company works, or doesn't, should mean that the company values us, but doesn't seem to.
Henrik has not had a promotion (with added pay) in 30 years, and has run factories and is more of an expert in tower and blade manufaturing than those who run the factories. What more does he need to know to become a senior specialist from his current role as specialist?
I just want to feel valued by the company, I said, and at the moment I don't think it does.
Their worse case scenario would be one of us, or all of us, going to work for a customer.
Oh my word.
But at two, Jools was home, I wrote on more mail, sent it and powered the computer down.
Dinner was three bean soup and defrosted tear and share rolls. Not a big dinner, but good enough. But afterwards I said I would make mince pies, as all through Christmas we really had enough food, so I rustled up the pastry, lined a silicon bun case, filled with mincemeat and placed a small lid on each of the 12 pies.
Twenty minutes in the over, half an hour to cool, we had two each for supper while I watched the football on the tellybox.
By which time we were several hours into the weekend.
All change next week as Jen comes back on Tuesday and on Fridays it'll be cards night again.
But.
Its a Friday and that means: meetings.
Lots of meetings.
Just about constant meetings from seven all the way until two, with just a couple of half hour breaks between.
We slept through the alarm, which mean Jools had just 15 minutes to get up, get dressed and get her lunch together before she had to leave for her yoga class, that she had forgotten to book.
Meaning that twenty minutes after getting up, I was alone. Or how alone can you be with four cats, and Cleo who seems to find everything I do worth watching?
I put out the bins. Make a second coffee and have a bowl of grape nuts, then set up the computer for work.
Deep breath....
Cease fire, we're going in.
Meetings. Meetings about other meetings. And meetings to discuss previous and future meetings.
There was time for crumpets for lunch, before a final hour-long meeting with my interim boss about stuff I am going to be expected to do. We talked about the department meeting earlier where in response to our (department's) request for clarity about how to get a pay rise, a lady from global HR came in and talked for half an hour about personal development.
Any questions, she asked.
I spoke up and made the point that us in the department with all of us having over a decade's experience in the company, were irreplaceable, but if we wanted to earn more money, we would have to find another job either in our outside the company. Our knowledge of how the company works, or doesn't, should mean that the company values us, but doesn't seem to.
Henrik has not had a promotion (with added pay) in 30 years, and has run factories and is more of an expert in tower and blade manufaturing than those who run the factories. What more does he need to know to become a senior specialist from his current role as specialist? I just want to feel valued by the company, I said, and at the moment I don't think it does.
Their worse case scenario would be one of us, or all of us, going to work for a customer.
Oh my word.
But at two, Jools was home, I wrote on more mail, sent it and powered the computer down.
Dinner was three bean soup and defrosted tear and share rolls. Not a big dinner, but good enough. But afterwards I said I would make mince pies, as all through Christmas we really had enough food, so I rustled up the pastry, lined a silicon bun case, filled with mincemeat and placed a small lid on each of the 12 pies.
Twenty minutes in the over, half an hour to cool, we had two each for supper while I watched the football on the tellybox.By which time we were several hours into the weekend.
All change next week as Jen comes back on Tuesday and on Fridays it'll be cards night again.
Friday, 20 January 2023
Thursday 19th January 2023
Thursday morning, and all I had to do was get back to Kent. Hopefully before five so I could hand the hire car back, but getting back safe and sound would do, really.
I woke at six so I could be dressed for breakfast at half six when it started, and as usual when in a hotel, I had fruit followed by sausage and bacon sarnies. And lots of coffee.
Outside it had snowed. OK, it might only be an inch of the stuff, but that's more than an inch needed to cause chaos on the roads.
Back to the room to pack, one last look round and back to reception to check out, then out into the dawn to find that about a quarter of the cars were having snow and ice cleared off them before being able to be driven.
I joined them, scraping the soft snow then the ice. Bracing stuff at seven in the morning.
Now able to see out, I inched out of the car park and out to the exit and onto the untreated roads.
It was a picturesque scene, but not one I wanted to stop to snap. My first road south had only been gritted on one side, thankfully the side I was travelling down, but was still just compacted snow.
After negotiating two roundabouts, I was on the on ramp to the M6, and a 60 mile or so drive south. The motorway was clear of snow, but huge amounts of spray was thrown up, and the traffic was only doing 45mph, or the inside lane was, and that was quite fast and safe enough for me.
More snow fell as I neared Stoke, just to add to the danger of the journey, and then the rising sun glinted off the road, something which I had most of the drive home.
I went down the toll road, it costs eight quid, but is quick and easy. And safe too with so little traffic on it. I think for the first time, I didn't stop at the services, as it was only about half nine, and only three hours since breakfast.
And by the time I was on the old M6, there was just about no snow on the ground, and the road was beginning to dry out.
My phone played the tunes from my apple music store. Loudly. So the miles slipped by.
After posting some shots from Fotheringhay online, a friend, Simon, suggested others nearby that were worth a visit, and I also realised that I hadn't taken wide angle shots looking east and west, so I could drop in there, then go to the others suggested.
And stopping here was about the half way point in the journey so was a good break in the drive, and by then the clouds had thinned and a weak sin shone down.
Fotheringhay is as wonderful as always, it really is a fine church, easy to stop there first, where I had it to myself, and this time even climbed into the richly decorated pulpit to snap the details.
A short drive away was Apethorpe, where there was no monkey business. The village was built of all the same buttery yellow sandstone, looking fine in the weak sunshine.
Churches in this part of Northamptonshire are always open, Simon said.
Not at Apethorpe. So I made do with snapping the church and the village stocks and whipping post opposite.
A short drive up the hill was King's Cliffe. Another buttery yellow village and a fine church, which I guessed would be open.
Though it took some finding, as driving up the narrow high street I failed to find the church. I checked the sat nav and I had driven right past it, but being down a short lane it was partially hidden behind a row of houses.
The church was open, and was surrounded by hundreds of fine stone gravestones, some of designs I have not seen before, but it was the huge numbers of them that was impressive.
Inside the church was fine, if cold. I record what I could, but my compact camera's batter had died the day before, and I had no charger, so just with the nifty fifty and the wide angle, still did a good job of recording it.
Back to the car, I program the sat nav for home, and set off back to Fotheringhay and the A14 beyond.
No messing around now, just press on trying to make good time so to be home before dark, and time to go home, drop my bags, feed the cats before returning the car.
No real pleasure, but I made good time, despite encountering several bad drivers, who were clearly out only to ruin my mood.
Even the M25 was clear, I raced to the bridge, over the river and into Kent.
Nearly home.
I drive back down the A2, stopping at Medway services for a sandwich and a huge coffee on the company's credit card.
And that was that, just a blast down to Faversham, round onto the A2 and past Canterbury and to home, getting back at just after three, time to fill up the bird feeders, feed the cats, unpack and have a brew before going out at just gone four to return the car.
Jools would rescue me from the White Horse on her way home, so after being told the car was fine, walked to the pub and ordered two pints of Harvey's Best.
There was a guy from Essex and his American girlfriend, who were asking about all sorts of questions about Dover's history, and I was the right person to answer them.
I was told by a guide from the Castle I did a good job.
Yay me.
Jools arrived, so I went out and she took me home. Where the cats insisted they had not been fed.
Lies, all lies.
Dinner was teriyaki coated salmon, roasted sprouts and back, defrosted from before Christmas, and noodles.
Yummy.
Not much else to tell, just lighting the fire, so Scully and I would be toast warm watch the exciting Citeh v Spurs game, where Spurs were very Spursy indeed.
I woke at six so I could be dressed for breakfast at half six when it started, and as usual when in a hotel, I had fruit followed by sausage and bacon sarnies. And lots of coffee.
Outside it had snowed. OK, it might only be an inch of the stuff, but that's more than an inch needed to cause chaos on the roads.
Back to the room to pack, one last look round and back to reception to check out, then out into the dawn to find that about a quarter of the cars were having snow and ice cleared off them before being able to be driven.
I joined them, scraping the soft snow then the ice. Bracing stuff at seven in the morning.
Now able to see out, I inched out of the car park and out to the exit and onto the untreated roads.
It was a picturesque scene, but not one I wanted to stop to snap. My first road south had only been gritted on one side, thankfully the side I was travelling down, but was still just compacted snow.
After negotiating two roundabouts, I was on the on ramp to the M6, and a 60 mile or so drive south. The motorway was clear of snow, but huge amounts of spray was thrown up, and the traffic was only doing 45mph, or the inside lane was, and that was quite fast and safe enough for me.
More snow fell as I neared Stoke, just to add to the danger of the journey, and then the rising sun glinted off the road, something which I had most of the drive home.
I went down the toll road, it costs eight quid, but is quick and easy. And safe too with so little traffic on it. I think for the first time, I didn't stop at the services, as it was only about half nine, and only three hours since breakfast.
And by the time I was on the old M6, there was just about no snow on the ground, and the road was beginning to dry out.
My phone played the tunes from my apple music store. Loudly. So the miles slipped by.
After posting some shots from Fotheringhay online, a friend, Simon, suggested others nearby that were worth a visit, and I also realised that I hadn't taken wide angle shots looking east and west, so I could drop in there, then go to the others suggested.
And stopping here was about the half way point in the journey so was a good break in the drive, and by then the clouds had thinned and a weak sin shone down.
Fotheringhay is as wonderful as always, it really is a fine church, easy to stop there first, where I had it to myself, and this time even climbed into the richly decorated pulpit to snap the details.A short drive away was Apethorpe, where there was no monkey business. The village was built of all the same buttery yellow sandstone, looking fine in the weak sunshine.
Churches in this part of Northamptonshire are always open, Simon said.
Not at Apethorpe. So I made do with snapping the church and the village stocks and whipping post opposite.
A short drive up the hill was King's Cliffe. Another buttery yellow village and a fine church, which I guessed would be open.Though it took some finding, as driving up the narrow high street I failed to find the church. I checked the sat nav and I had driven right past it, but being down a short lane it was partially hidden behind a row of houses.
The church was open, and was surrounded by hundreds of fine stone gravestones, some of designs I have not seen before, but it was the huge numbers of them that was impressive.Inside the church was fine, if cold. I record what I could, but my compact camera's batter had died the day before, and I had no charger, so just with the nifty fifty and the wide angle, still did a good job of recording it.
Back to the car, I program the sat nav for home, and set off back to Fotheringhay and the A14 beyond.
No messing around now, just press on trying to make good time so to be home before dark, and time to go home, drop my bags, feed the cats before returning the car.
No real pleasure, but I made good time, despite encountering several bad drivers, who were clearly out only to ruin my mood.
Even the M25 was clear, I raced to the bridge, over the river and into Kent.
Nearly home.
I drive back down the A2, stopping at Medway services for a sandwich and a huge coffee on the company's credit card.
And that was that, just a blast down to Faversham, round onto the A2 and past Canterbury and to home, getting back at just after three, time to fill up the bird feeders, feed the cats, unpack and have a brew before going out at just gone four to return the car.
Jools would rescue me from the White Horse on her way home, so after being told the car was fine, walked to the pub and ordered two pints of Harvey's Best.
There was a guy from Essex and his American girlfriend, who were asking about all sorts of questions about Dover's history, and I was the right person to answer them.
I was told by a guide from the Castle I did a good job.
Yay me.
Jools arrived, so I went out and she took me home. Where the cats insisted they had not been fed.
Lies, all lies.
Dinner was teriyaki coated salmon, roasted sprouts and back, defrosted from before Christmas, and noodles.
Yummy.
Not much else to tell, just lighting the fire, so Scully and I would be toast warm watch the exciting Citeh v Spurs game, where Spurs were very Spursy indeed.
Thursday, 19 January 2023
Wednesday 18th January 2023
The alarm went off at six, giving me half an hour before breakfast.
I opened the curtains, and it was dark.
No idea if it had snowed any more.
But I was prepared for the worse.
I got dressed and went down the wide corridors to the dining area, where I feasted on fresh fruit and yogurt followed by bacon and sausage butties.
And two pots of fresh coffee.
By the time I was finishing the last of the coffee, my colleagues arrived, they could not offer me a lift to the office as they were traveling to the four corners of the country that evening, so would meet me there.
* Which meant having to program the sat nav. (no issues)
* Finding somewhere to refuel as the car was on fumes.
* And hope the roads were clear.
I went to my room, grabbed my work bag and put my coat on. Walked back out to reception and outside, where the frost had been hard, and frozen the evening snow into sheets of ice.
I scraped the car of snow and ice, warmed the engine up, and drove out via the one way road into the resort, so the wrong way. But no accidents.
The main roads were sheets of ice, but I took it easy, heading back to the motorway, and the services I knew were at the junction, though were usually jammed with traffic. But this morning, I was able to drive in with no issues, fill up and make my way round the double roundabout onto the motorway for one unction, then through the outskirts of Warrington, round endless roundabouts until I came to Birchwood, where once at the office, I found a place to park.
And inside, registered to visit so not to get a ticket.
That was the easy part.
We met up for a pre-audit meeting, seemed it was all set. The customer arrived, and we began the dance.
We danced to midday, had lunch of sandwiches, rolls and cakes, danced some more to half two, and that was that.
Nowhere near as bad as feared, but work to do.
The customer left, and the others started their drive to Ayr and beyond. I had a 15 minute drive back to the resort.
The snow meant the course had been closed all day, so the bars and restaurants were fairly empty. And despite eating well through the day, by six I was very hungry, so went for a small plate of fish and chips, but no cheese board this time.
Back to the room to watch football and a call to Jools.
Back home in the morning, while outside, snow fell.
* Which meant having to program the sat nav. (no issues)
* Finding somewhere to refuel as the car was on fumes.
* And hope the roads were clear.
I went to my room, grabbed my work bag and put my coat on. Walked back out to reception and outside, where the frost had been hard, and frozen the evening snow into sheets of ice.
I scraped the car of snow and ice, warmed the engine up, and drove out via the one way road into the resort, so the wrong way. But no accidents.
The main roads were sheets of ice, but I took it easy, heading back to the motorway, and the services I knew were at the junction, though were usually jammed with traffic. But this morning, I was able to drive in with no issues, fill up and make my way round the double roundabout onto the motorway for one unction, then through the outskirts of Warrington, round endless roundabouts until I came to Birchwood, where once at the office, I found a place to park.
And inside, registered to visit so not to get a ticket.That was the easy part.
We met up for a pre-audit meeting, seemed it was all set. The customer arrived, and we began the dance.
We danced to midday, had lunch of sandwiches, rolls and cakes, danced some more to half two, and that was that.
Nowhere near as bad as feared, but work to do.
The customer left, and the others started their drive to Ayr and beyond. I had a 15 minute drive back to the resort.
The snow meant the course had been closed all day, so the bars and restaurants were fairly empty. And despite eating well through the day, by six I was very hungry, so went for a small plate of fish and chips, but no cheese board this time.
Back to the room to watch football and a call to Jools.Back home in the morning, while outside, snow fell.
Wednesday, 18 January 2023
Tuesday 17th January 2023
Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.
Or something.
Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.
I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.
So it goes.
Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.
It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?
Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.
It was cold.
Not Canada cold, clearly.
Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.
It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.
My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.
Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.
Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.
I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.
The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.
Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.
I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.
So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.
Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.
Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.
This is real history.
I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.
The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.
I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.
Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.
The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.
At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?
No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.
The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.
Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.
They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.
We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.
16 miles.
Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.
The the fuel warning light went on.
Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.
The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.
Phew.
I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.
But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.
I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.
Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?
I would, dear reader, I would.
To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.
Or something.
Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.
I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.
So it goes.
Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.
It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?
Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.It was cold.
Not Canada cold, clearly.
Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.
It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.
Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.
I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.
The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.
I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.
So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.
Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.
Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.This is real history.
I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.
The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.
I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.
Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.
The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.
At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?
No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.
The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.
Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.
They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.
We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.
16 miles.
Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.
The the fuel warning light went on.
Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.
The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.
Phew.
I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.
But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.
I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.
Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?I would, dear reader, I would.
To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
