Monday 20th February 2017

THe start of the working week, and the day on which Jools found out about the job.

But more of that later.

Seeing as we were both tired, for whatever reason, we did not set the alarm until six, by which times the cats were most impatient and outside dawn was already showing away in the south east. But then, since December 21st, the light of the rising sun has slowly moved from a more generally southern direction to SSE and then SE, and will continue to rise ever more eastwards until June 21st arrives, and then the rising sun will move back south again, day by day.

We have coffee, check on the web to make the world is as crazy as it was yesterday, and it is. Not sure if that is a good thing, but with the 45th President of the goold old US of A getting is foreign policy information from Fox News rather than government agencies, then we can agree that is is full on fruit loopy crazy.

Jools leaves for work, and I log on to the work computer to see what's been happening, as due to incompetence, not on my part, I had avoided work all weekend. Good news was that there had been no major issues, and I hadn't been missed. Which is good.

I also have a new work phone I have to make work. It is some kind of Samsung thing, and seems very good, well as being a phone I suppose. I don't use 99% of what a mobile can do, and this it will be less than that, but IT had sent me a very informative guide telling me how to transfer my old number to the new phone.

I call EE, give them the number and am told that there is no name registered against the number, so cannot ask any security questions, so do nothing.

Sigh.

I call IT, and turns out this is not unknown, and he will deal with it, so I have to just wait. In the meantime I catch up on mails, update documents and project folders. That takes all morning.

After lunch, I am waiting for a delivery. A delivery of soil, so we can fill up the two raised beds in the back garden. The truck arrives at two, so I tell him where to drop the tonne of soil, it is some distance away from the back of the garden. In fairness there is the house, a fence and other stuff in the way. So this means it would be a spade and a wheelbarrow job.

Now, it is some time since I did any serious manual labour, even walking at the moment is hurting due to something I have done to my lower back, so this would be interesting. After a couple of return trips, I have a plan, use the spade to fill up the barrow, take it to the bottom of the garden, and using the side of the bed, using it a pivot, empty the soil in. After a few return trips, the old bad back kicks in, so after two trips, I have a 5 minute rest.

What I missed out when I wrote this first, was that the barrow had seen better days. I did not realise that the wheel came off. And came off every time I unloaded it, and if I was too quick going up the steps to the house. Time and time and time again, I had to turn it over and refit the wheel before carrying on with work. I made the whole process take twice as long.

Up and down I go, and the bed fills up. That is until I trample it down. So much more to go. Back and forth I go, moaning and groaning about my back, but then not giving up. At twenty past five, I do the last trip, the sun has set, the sky had turned from blue to red to pink and was now going dark. I even put away the tools, satisfied with the afternoons work. Just don't sit down or I would not move.

Jools arrives home with the news we have all been waiting for: she did not get the job, she is disappointed, but then means we don't have to go through the upheavals and only seeing each other three days in ten. Like everything, its been an experience, and can use this to move on.

I cook chorizo hash, always a welcome meal, and especially heartening after an afternoon's hard work with spade and wheelbarrow. I have even remembered to put a bottle of fizz int he fridge, so as I dished up dinner, Jools popped the cork and we toasted our luck in living here, having each other and the cats.

THe evening was spent on the sofa where any movement was painful, but then a reminder I have to do more of anything to avoid getting old before my time. Sutton were playing Arsenal, but no upsets this time, the Gooners running out 2-0 winners, but a good game anyway.

Sunday 19th February 2017

Second day of the weekend, and turns out that despite us both being knackered all weekend, we were both wide awake at six, and the cats said that seeing we were awake would we find it in ourselves to feed them? Needless to day after thinking about it for a while, we did get up, feed the cats and make coffee. Sweet strong coffee.

There was the upsets from the previous day's football to catch up on. I stop after the first two games to make bacon butties and huge fresh brews. Then go back to the sofa to complete the football.

Once that was watched, I see that the sun was out, much against what the BBC had promised, so I got the idea that we should go out so I could take shots of snowdrops before the light went. So, I hurried Jools up, got my gear together and we drove to Waldershare, where around the old chapel there are hundreds of snowdrops in among the old graves.

I picked what I thought the most photogenic clump, lay on the wet grass and took a hundred or so shots. It was only when I got home I found that many of the shots could not be used due to dust, or looking more like cumps of mud, on the sensor.

Once back home, I walk along to the house at the end of the street, as his daffodils have finally come out, some eight weeks later than last year, but still feels early. As well as that, the first of the dwarf iris are out in our garden, a flash of colour just outside the living room windw, and everywhere else, there are the green shoots of other spring bulbs, including the large fritillaries showing above the damp and heavy soil.

That done we drove home to do some more relaxing, and listening to the radio. As you do.

Lunch was cheese and crackers, I opened a bottle of beer, intending only to drink half of it saving the rest for dinner. Only, I ended up polishing off the bottle sitting on the sofa watching the Fulham v Spurs game, but within twenty minutes of the start I was sound asleep. I wake up several times, check on the score and go back to sleep.

As the game finished, I wake up, but to say my head was wooly would be the same as saying it had a flock of sheep grazing inside it. Still, as I was awake, best make a coffee and prepare to listen to the 2nd game of the day, Blackburn v Man U, which also ended in a 3-0 win for the Prem team.

And by now it was evening, which means the weekly ordeal that is the phone call with Mother dearest. There is no news from Lowestoft, other than Mum has blocked ears. So I spoke loudly, just to be sure she could hear. Anyway, she did not laugh. The call lasted ten minutes, does that mean I am excused phone call duties for 4 weeks? Apparently not.

We watch a fine tele-visual program of a year in the life of a mountain. No really, and if you can, watch "Life of a Mountain: A Year on Blencathra" and marvel at the cinematography. I know we did.

Saturday 18th February 2017

And welcome to the weekend. Waking up at half six was several hour too early, and it took some time to get going, but as always a cup of fresh coffee always helps.

We have to go to Tesco, there are five items on the shopping list, but we still manage to spend seventy quid, somehow. Over twenty of that was on kitty kibbles, which shows how much we care. That and milk, bacon, fruit and vegetables. With trolley loaded we pay and go to the car.

Back home we have croissants and another coffee.

Now, on Friday we took delivery of six raspberry canes, two loganberry canes and two red current bushes. Looking at the planting instructions, we see to our surprise that we could not plant them in the beds where the old canes used to grow. So, we did some thinking and decided on a new bed near to the raised beds, which meant we would have to get the tool out to dig an area one by three metres. Not much you would think.

We alo had to get some bonemeal for the roots, and then there is the bird food and fat balls for the badgers/foxes that we need too. So a trip to Charlton to the pet food place and to Morrison's for some pies (don't ask), then back up the hill to B&Q.

It would have been tempting to sit around all day, but the canes needed planting, so we put our boots and coats on, got the tool out and marked out the bed.

We dug it over, then scattered garden compost and dug that in before finally digging a trench, sprinkling the trench and roots with bonemeal, planting the canes and stamping them down before watering them in. Took about two hours, and we had aching limbs, but we looked at what we had done, and it looked good. Jools did some tidying up, we had stopped for lunch, but now it was three in the afternoon and kick off time.

And already there had been the first cup shock as Lincoln had knocked out Burnley 1-0. Millwall knocked out Leicester by the same score, and in the league we hoped City would continue their upward course, but sadly due to injuries and not being at the races, they slipped to a 2-1 defeat. I was going to go up to Burton for the game, but friends never confirmed the details, so more pain was avoided. But losing still hurts, even if you're 200 miles away.

I cook kofte kebabs and fried spuds, after speaking with my friend Tony on the other side of the world thanks to the wonder that is messaging on Facebook. The modern world is wonderful. Except when it isn't, clearly.

Friday 17th February 2017

I have no idea why modern hotels think that a guest would not want to open a window. As the month progresses, each day seems to get warmer, as does each night. Using the air conditioning would have run the rist of an allergy attack, so I hope for a good nights sleep. THe late and large dinner meant that I was awake before four, so hot thanks to the combination of the lack of fresh air and meat sweats. I toss and turn, but there is no way I am going back to sleep.

So it is just as well that I have to attend the tool box meeting before the guys sail, to make a speech about quality matters. Once upon a time I would baulk at speaking to half a dozen people, but 50 technicaians all ready to go to work; now no problem.

Anyway, I pack and having already paid, all I have to do is walk to the car park under the casino, pay the €44 bill for 36 hour's parking, load the car and drive to the office. And I feel and must look like death warmed up. I feel like shit, should have had a shower, but I did not want to be late for the briefing. I'm not.

After saying my considered words, I can get down to work, updating the files with the latest reports and inspections. It takes a couple of hours, but feels good to be back in control. My friend, Chris, cooks some bacon for breakfast, just as well as I had missed the one at the hotel, obviously. So some bacon and curry ketchup hits the spot.

COme half eleven, with the last meeting out of the way, I think I have done enough, so pack up and load the car for the drive to the tunnel. I say goodbye to the guys still working, and off I go.

I take the scenic way, down along the network of canals leading in the same general direction of the A10, but avoiding the huge roundabout in town. I join the motorway, accelerating past two trucks, soon taking the exit to head south towards the border with La Belle France.

There's more British cars on the road, it being half term, and most of them are in a mighty hurry, motoring past me at speeds in excess of 100mph, as I am already at the limit of 120kmh, and they leave me standing. Oh well.

I am feeling no better, and my eyes itch thanks to the lack of sleep, but at least the drive down to the port is just over an hour, I'd be OK. Once I reach Calais, I think about going to the wine warehouse, but decide against it, it can wait as I'm back in two weeks.

There are lines at the tunnel, not too bad, takes about 20 minutes to get through the two sets of immigration. There was just time to go to the lounge, pick up a baguette and a drink before joining the short queue of three care waiting to board.

We are let on, and I realise that the two cars in front are identical Range Rover Vogues, each with families of yummy mummies and various offspring. I try not to judge people, happy enough to people watch, but bot families clearly not short of a bob or two. Last thing I heard when it was time go drive off, was one of the Mums saying "have you all got your i pads?"

Once we have driven off and gone round the ramp and onto the on ramp to the motorway, they accelerate away, but I have a lane to myself leading back onto the A20 and back to Folkestone and Dover. On the radio, the Radcliffe and Maconie show starts.

I am home by half one, time for a brew and a sandwich, and unload the car before it is time to meet Jools on her way home from work down in the docks so I can drop the car off. It all works perfectly well, as I walk out of the car hire office, she pulls up, so I can get in and we drive home, and the good news was that the weekend had begun. With such a long hard week, once home I switch the mobile off, and it feels good to have done so.

It is clear to Jools, and me, that I am in state or mood to go to Tony's party that evening. I had forgotten all about it, and I groaned when Jools reminded me about it. She agreed to go to the chippy to get me cod and chips, meaning not only did I not have to go out to the party, neither did I have to cook either.

I have a night of music and quizzes: TOTP followed by Mastermind, Only Connect, a documentary on AOR and finally The Boss talking about the writing of The River. I should have gone to bed two hours previously, but Jools had gone out without a doorkey, so, I sit up drinking rumtopf. As you do.

At least that meant I would sleep well. Oh yes.

Thursday 16th February 2017

Thursday

Leuven day.

Once a month I have to travel to Leuven for a meeting. In fact, several colleagues all have to, and sit round a table and discuss things. So since work began here in Oostende, I just travel from here instead of coming over on the Eurostar, and for the past few months, Manu has given us a lift from here to Leuven saving us the issue of getting a train.

Manu is at the same hotel as I, so we meet in the breakfast bear at half seven, then drive in the Manumobile to the office for a couple of hours work, before we then, along with Chris, get back in the car and drive to Leuven. Let me say now, this is not a chore. Manu puts some tunes on so we can sing along, we make jokes and funny observations, and so the time goes quick. In fact we all realised that these days are coming to an end soon, and we might look on days such as this, fondly.

We soon drove into fog, causing us to slow down, but after Gent it cleared, only for there to be roadworks so we got jammed up for half an hour. Still, music played, we sang and laughed.

We arrived an hour early, so I could take a short trip to the cathedral in Leuven, I have been wanting to do this for many months but had put it off, but now chances were running out, so, armed with the camera and two lenses, I rush round the chancel, now called The Treasury, which is packed with Flemish Art, a precursor to Gothic, and all is wonderful, just not enough time to see everything.

In the main part of the church, the pews are dominated by the most extraordinary pulpit, showing a rock with two trees growing out the top, it seems to be carved from a single piece of wood, and is crazy bonkers. But glorious. It is covered with cherubs and squirrels, which is nice.

But onto the meeting.

And once over, we retire to The Capital for beer and venting. We have two beers each, then Chris and I realise we have time for a third before we have to walk to the station to catch the half six train back to Oostende. The record shop had just closed, thus meaning I saved several Euros, and we walked on.

We get seats on the train, and soon fall into a slumber as the express zooms to Brussels, then rattles between the tree city centre stations, before heading into the night to Gent and Bruges and finally into Oostende.

A colleague had arrived that evening from Denmark, so we arrange to meet in Den Artiest, a taxi to Chris and I from the station, dropping us at the door. Jesper was waiting and waving as we entered, so we join him at the table and in having another beer.

We all ordered steak, fries and more beer, and all is well with the world. Almost. But then it is half nine, I have to be up in seven hours, and am shattered.

Phew rock and roll.

On the way back to the hotel, the strap on my work bag broke, rounding off a fine day, leaving me to seethe as I walk into the night.

Wednesday 15th February 2017

Wednesday

And a day in the office ahead, waking up in the frugal surroundings of the hotel room. I have a shower, get dressed then go down to the breakfast bar where there is only a limited choice, unlike at the Andromeda, which is like a banquet in comparison.

Outside, it is nearly light, showing how the year is moving on, and spring is really close. It even felt mild to as I walked to the car park to free the car at a cost of €22.

Somehow, events put paid to my usual plans of work, ended up fighting fires instead, and then four hours of meetings followed, including one over lunch, so I was able to hear others eat whilst I listened to the meeting via Skype.

We wait for the technicians to come back to shore, and as they arrived in the harbour, dark clouds flew over, and soon the heavens opened with a downpour of almost Biblical proportions, turning what was left of the day to night, only for it to stop as quickly as it started, and we were then greeted with a fine and colourful sunset as the setting sun turned the clouds and sky bright red before turning to pink and then fading to night.

We go to the burger place next door to the Andromeda for dinner. Again. And have burger, fries and beer. Again. And it is good. Again. All in all, it’s not a bad life.

Back in my room I watch Arsenal fall to pieces playing Bayen in the CL, they lose 5-1 for the second year running, showing no real improvement in any department nor learning from their mistakes. Still, got to laugh.

Tuesday 14th February 2017

And back to work. Back to reality.

Tuesday comes round, and it time to return to the grindstone, to put in the hours. And travel to Oostende once again. I do need a car however, and due to the fact I was on me holibobs for the week, so could not have a car delivered or picked up on Monday, I would have to do it Tuesday morning, but this would delay my travel plans by at least an hour.

In the end it could have been worse.

Jools agreed not to go to work too early, so dropped me off in town at just gone seven, which gave me an hour to kill before the car hire office opened at eight. It was almost light, clouds had cleared, so I thought I would take a walk along the prom, take in the sights, take some shots and stretch my legs.

Jools dropped me off by the old Prince of Wales Pier, which is being rebuilt at the moment and so is out of bounds. Not quite sure what it will be like, as it seems funding from Europe seems to have dried up; odd that. Anyway, work is ongoing, so I take some record shots of the clock tower and pier before beginning to walk north.

Away to my right, the sun rose, all red and angry, but gave the promise of a fine day for travel. I snap it many times, and the reflections on the water and wet sand on the beach. Wading birds and gulls were searching for food before the tide turned. I looked at my watch to find it had stopped during the night, and when I looked at it, thinking it was twenty five to seven, it really read twenty five to eleven, or something. Upside down. I had no idea what the time was.

I walked on, crossed over Townwall Street and under East Cliff into the port and to the office, where the staff were having brews. It was quarter to eight.

I have come for a car, says I. In what name, so I told them. No ready until four she says.

Bugger.

But we can give you a different one. You’ll have to wait.

So I waited. 15 minutes. 30 minutes. 45 minutes. It was done.

So it was quarter to nine by the time I got back home, packed and made breakfast. I gulped it down, washed up and loaded the car. Nine fifteen.

I am on my way and halfway to the tunnel when I realised my phone was on charge at home. So I have to go back for it. I arrive at the tunnel at ten, having just missed a train, so have to sit and wait. So I pick up a free lunch, a copy of the FT and wait. And wait.

We are allowed to board at just gone eleven, and then sit waiting for half an hour while a fault is fixed. Announcements are finally made and the train pulls out.

All of this means I arrive in Calais at midday, and have an hour drive ahead, which means I was going to miss the meeting. You know the drill by now, through Calais to the motorway, up to Dunkirk then over the border into Belgium. Across Flanders and finally turn onto the A10. Half one.

No point in going to the meeting, as I had not been able to read mails or papers to brief myself, so instead go to the office to begin the catch up process and sort through seven and a half day’s mail.

I could not get a room in the usual hotel, so am back in the Mercure, which is OK, just has no parking, and so have to use the park beneath the casino at €22 a night, nearly as much as the hotel room.

And I have the usual room, not bad, but just a bed and bathroom really. There is enough time to dump my bags before meeting up with Chris and another Brit for dinner. Despite it being Valentine’s Day, there were plenty of spaces where I usually order the Thai red curry. Which I and Chris have, and washed down by a bottle or two of Trappist beers, is splendid.

Back in my room for quarter to nine to follow the City game via Twitter. One down after 29 seconds, 2-1 up after twenty minutes, and in the end hanging on for a 2-2 draw with Newcastle. Phew