where art collides philosoperontap

Sunday Sunday. Apparently sales of the Bible are rocketing. Heared it on the wireless just now. Heard it. Autocorrect didn’t kick in there. Woke up a bit later than normal and missed “on your farm”. Also missed the even earlier 2 minutes of church bells which I only discovered when I was recovering from hiphop2 and couldn’t sleep. That phase is over yay. Might rewind the radio and listen to it anyway. Later.

Now lying in bed waiting for the Sunday Service to come on. Stand by.

“Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God”. It’s ok. Not too bad anyway. Coming from Belfast. Need to give it more time. I wouldn’t say it has immediately done it for me. Actually the first hymn is quite boring. There are a lot of bland uns out there. The jewels are islands of beauty in a sea of tuneless mediocrity. Off it goes. A bit of toast beckons. Two bits. White wild farmed sourdough or similar. From Waitrose.

Another thing this morning is a slightly itchy left shoulder blade that I can’t quite reach to scratch. I’ve been doing bear impressions on door jams as I walk through. Ooby do.

No fox action. Not been seen for a few days now. Maybe it’s killed everything around here that it can get at and has moved on to another part of town. Do foxes hibernate? Gone on holiday to see its country brothers maybe. A dangerous trip.

Today will to a large extent be a day of watching snooker. The finale of the Masters from Ally Pally. We’ve never been but we have been to The Crucible Theatre in Sheffield for the “worlds”. Also to Llandudno for the final of the Welsh Open. We don’t mess about, us 🙂 

In between frames we have a very nice pork loin that I shall be roasting to perfection with particular attention being given to the production of top notch crackling. And the gravy. Good gravy is essential. Last time I opened a bottle of the Herout Cider (Cidre) I bought last time we were in Normandy. It’s much better than the crap you get in supermarkets here. The other thing is that there is far more in the bottle than I need for the gravy so I’ll have to polish off the rest whilst cooking. Doesn’t keep yanow. I may still even have some of their calvados. A numbered bottle (something like 27/61) of their limited edition vintage single harvest stuff. Quality.

My latest book purchase arrived yesterday. The Welsh Cattle Drovers by Richard J. Colyer. A quality read. Lots of really detailed and interesting facts albeit mostly from the nineteenth century. My real interest lies a hundred years earlier but that was a time with very little written record. The drovers themselves tended to be illiterate and memorised everything. 

The lack of written records in Wales before the nineteenth century is an observation that often rears its head when looking at histories. Wills are very useful, which I think I’ve mentioned before. What complicates things is the difficulty of reading handwritten scripts before 1700. I need someone who is an expert in this style of writing. Lots of twiddly bits and abbreviations. It takes hours of staring at one document to figure out the words. I no longer bother trying. Might take a course in it someday! Probs wont.

Not much will have changed between 1730 and 1830 in our part of the world so it is all relevant stuff anyway. The things that did change were prices but there were loads of things that went on over the course of the century that pushed some costs up and some down so it is difficult to extrapolate. More time needs to be spent in the library in Aberystwyth. The key finding from the book is the mention of the route that went directly past our farm in Llanllwni and that the drovers preferred to buy direct from the farm rather than at market fairs. 

The drovers and the cattle industry became early pioneers of the modern banking system. They handled what was a huge amount of cash for their times.  For wealthy individuals wanting to deposit cash generated by their Welsh estates a drover would take the cash and leave it in Wales but pay the money out of that generated by the sales of cattle in Smithfield Market thereby avoiding having to carry larger amounts of dosh than they needed to. A very risky business being a drover. The modern Lloyds Bank grew out of a bank started by drovers. There ya go. Learnt something new.

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Things wot I observed when out and about this morning. There was a fire engine in action by the Brayford. A hose was attached to a standpipe in a hydrant and anotehr ran into the bock of flats just by the bridge behind M&S. Saw another fire engine passing the Peacock though it didn’t have its blue lights on like the first.

Then at the lights at the bottom of Lindum Hill a Land Rover Discovery sport was indicating to go into the left hand lane. When someone let it in a hand sporting a posh watch reached out from the passenger seat in acknowledgement.

While in the car, on a rare tuning in, albeit very momentarily, to BBC Radio Lincolnshire I was informed that Fantasy Island and Pier at Skegness have 150 vacancies for thre forthcoming season if anyone is interested. Comes with a healthcare package and unlimited free goes on all the attractions.

In other news my hilton points level, 1,505, is the lowest it’s been since I joined Hilton Honors, their spelling not mine. I burned 360k on a week at a 5 star hilton in Malta in September. All part of the slippery slope of extracting myself from the world of  business. The BA club class flight cost £60 plus 60k avios. I still have a ton of avios.

Somewhat frazzled this morning after a great night out in Nottingham. Didn’t get to bed until after minding which is v late for me. The hotel was pretty crappy. The only thing it had going for it was the fact that it was only about a hundred yards from the venue. Home now and waiting for the heating to come up to a working temperature in the shed. Made the mistake of switching it off before we left yesterday. No lakeside action to report. A quiet night on the fauna front.

Arrived at the Mercure Nottingham for the @Jeff Brown gig at Peggy’s Skylight tonight. Totes pissing down. My fedora (well it is a jazz gig) kept me dry and my specs dropless, if you get my drift. Bloody miserable. The room is only just bigger than the shoebox we had for the Paris Olympics and the widow blind is stuck in the down position. Oh and the bar is shut. Never mind.

Sbeen an action packed afternoon. Picked up my Taverners Membership card from Trent Bridge then we made our way to the Lace Market Car Park. It is one of those very old car parks with narrow parking spots. Very very old. Hey, I reversed in ok. We did three emporia: the caff at Waterstones, a walk through the storm to M&S and then John Lewis.

Waterstones caff had a lot of singles reading books at tables with the occasional laptop open. One oldish guy was reading a book entitled “Writing Better Lyrics”.

M&S is where, after about 90 seconds, I finally realised it was not my kind of shop. They have nothing for me. Not even the right kind of underpants! What is the world coming to? THG found a barg or two while I spent 25 mins on my phone in the caff. It is her kind of shop. They do have a good selection of bras. I could see that from my vantage point near the cutlery point in the caff. Father Ted sprang to mind…

Overheard a woman asking for four sugars and saw the bloke opposite pick up his dropped piece of cake and pop it in his mouth. Ten second rule applies, I said. His wife replied that he would have done it regardless of the elapsed time.

We slow footed to John Lewis. Through the rain and eventually manoeuvred past four women with umbrellas walking abreast and filling up half the street. JL loomed large and we went immediately to the furniture section. We were there for me to try out a few armchairs. Only one fitted the bill that we could both agree on. I then sat on a sofa in the haberdashery section and when rescued from there we hit the menswear, so to speak.

The choice of underpants at JL was very disappointing. Better quality than M&S but they only had one pack of boxers in my size and they were the wrong colour. Who on earth wants black and grey boxers. These days it would appear to be all about trunks and slips and other figure hugging apparel. Not my thing. THG disappeared for a mo and I ambled around the menswear. A nice soft cotton pair of pyjamas caught my eye. They were in the sale down from £85 to £45. Bargain. There were no pyjama tops on view and it was then that I realised that these were not pyjamas but lounge pants! Huh! I put them back on the shelf and we moved on. Some lucky member of staff will have to tidy them up as I messed them about looking for the sizes on the labels inside the kecks.

We retraced our steps to the car park passing a bedraggled woman without umbrella or headgear to keep the rain away. Her face was contorted in discomfort.

Now in the hotel room watching snooker with a cup of tea and a biscuit. We have three hours to relax and recover from a very rare (for me) bit of retail before we head out into the night. Fortunately the venue is only about a hundred yards away. 

Ciao amigos.

Back to zero. Degrees that is. Centigrade. Celsius. Today is the day I (we) are going to prune the grape vine and apple trees. It is suitably cold but also dry which is the main concern. I am a fairweather pruner.

Today would also be a good day for a spot of winter golf, as long as you wrap up warm. I have no time for golf because I am pruning. And swimming, for which wrapping up warm is not applicable other than for the journey between the shed and Total Fitness. The car heating will just about have kicked in by the time I get to the pool. I turn it down as I get to the Doddington Road roundabout!

After breakfast and before the rest of the day begins I have a conference call! Eight Thirty. What on earth Tref, I hear you say. You are merely echoing my sentiments. It is nine thirty in Utrecht, which is where the bloke who arranged the call is sitting. This month will see me getting dangerously close to exceeding my three days a month limit on work. A self imposed ceiling based on the fact that they didn’t want me to go to zero but which does occasionally end up as four days. This is not something I keep a timesheet for but is based on a gut feel and the recording of various trips and dinners in my calendar. Most of it is trips and dinners. Not many in January as you might imaj.

The rest of the morning should see me tidying up a bit of ritin I’ve been working on for a while: A year in the life of Maesnonni farm in Carmarthenshire in the 1730s. Once this is done I will revisit it in the spring as some of the financial assumptions I have made need access to documents that are likely only to be found physically in the National Library of Wales in Aberystwyth.

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Conf call done. THG has donned her new vibrant leggings and is off to the gym. I need to get dressed and get on with the day. Not looked for any lakeside animal action yet but will report back if there is news.

Ciao bebes

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Our Tom is on radio 4. Having his hair cut. What you need to know about our Tom is he hasn’t got any hair. He shaves it off, being a trendy Londoner. He goes on from time to time as BBC Radio 2’s “special correspondent for miscellaneous affairs”. It was all about whether you should pay less for a haircut if you don’t have much hair. Tune in to Radio 2 from shortly after 1.30pm. You should be able to find it on BBC Sounds. It was a v funny piece fair play.

I got back from the pool just in time to catch it on the wireless. I did have it on in the car but at the time they were talking about home schooling, a subject about which I have no interest whatsoever so I waited until I got home before switching on again.

Definitely back in the groove with the swimming. Today there was someone in my fave lane so I got into the one next to it in anticipation of sliding across when she finished. They invariably exit the pool after five mins or so. Not today. This person went mechanically up and down doing alternate lengths of breast stroke and back stroke. Tbh I can’t complain. I did my thirty mins front crawl (I’m not yet allowed to do breast stroke pursuant to hiphop2 and prefer crawl anyway), ten mins in the hot tub and she was still swimming as I left for the showers. Fair play. Like a machine she was. Pleasing to observe that I am getting better at putting my left sock on, seeing daily improvements in this otherwise mundane task.

THG’s new leggings attracted favourable comment btw. Gotta have the right gear for the gym eh?

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Last input of the day. Spent an hour or so pruning the grapevine and clearing the surrounding trellis of ivy. Still some ivy left but it is difficult to completely get rid. I am optimistic that we will do better on the grape growing front this year having been given advice on spring pruning.

What a morning. Ordinarily, like most mornings I have a lie in. It’s all relative. I’m still out of bed before eight. This morning I was up shortly after seven thirty. That thirty minutes elapsed time difference is huge. More like an hour and thirty minutes in perceived time. This morning was not like most mornings. It was THG’s 100th Park Run.

The weather forecast was not good. Possible rain and snow but definitely cold. The Facebook app came out early on THG’s iPhone with a particular focus on the Yarborough Park Run group and a go/nogo announcement due before eight fifteen ey em. The Boultham Park and Doddington Park Runs announced no go in fairly rapid succession. Still nothing to be heard from Yarborough.

Then at the crack of eight fifteen sharp the thumbs up came. They had walked the course twice and despite the sub zero temperatures and heavy frost the course was deemed playable. A sigh of relief was emitted in the Davies household. The build up to this day had started a couple of months ago as the magic hundred figure grew from a dot on the far horizon to a discernable blip on the radar. The excitement was growing. The exclusive tshirt was almost within grasp.

Last night the preparations for the day were in full flow. Not so much the running gear but the table laid for the celebratory brunch that was to follow. Provisions had been procured from a quality local supplier and the nice table cloth laid out. We went to bed with full expectations of the day ahead.

This morning I had a shave, in honour of the occasion. I wanted to look good for the special day. Didn’t want a shower. It’s bloody cold out there. I needed those essential oils. Dressed in my Nanuk of the North gear I went outside to scrape the ice off THG’s car and started the engine. She appeared fully kitted out, including her new pink running socks dropped down the chimney by Santa, and set off for Yarborough Leisure Centre.

We were there with twenty minutes to spare but the runners were already converging on the track from all directions. I reversed into a parking space to allow for a quick getaway and we proceeded to the start line. Our friend Clare soon joined us and for much of the time, marshalls aside, it very much looked as if we were the only non runners there. Crowds of runners continued to appear right up until the starting gun. With two other local Park Runs cancelled they had 350 runners, the third highest at this venue.

Much camera film was expended before, during and after the triumphant run. Group photos with members of the Pink Ladies Running Club, friends Clare and Sue, who had rocked up near the start with Monty the dog, a video of the shoutout before the start (THG being the only runner at that milestone today) and of course the start and finishing runs. The Pink Ladies started together but at some stage stretched out with a variety of ages and abilities. THG, I am proud to say finished fourth in her age group. Pretty good if I may say.

Back at the ranch the brunch got going as the guests gradually arrived. Bacon rolls, croissants, smoked salmon and cream cheese, sourdough toast and gallons of orange juice and tea.

Everyone has just left, the dishwasher loaded and on and we are settled in front of the telly watching 6th division Macclesfield currently beating current FA Cup defending champions Crystal Palace. Macclesfield cha cha cha. The fat lady hasn’t even started warming up her voice yet but possession is nine tenths of the law and currently Macclesfield have that possession.

Enuf. The lake is once more frozen over.

Dark out there. Orrible. Storm someone or other making itself known. It’s an Italian name and I couldn’t tell if it was a signor or a signora. If it was storm Brian I’d know. Mind you anything goes these days when it comes to names. I am tucked up cosily in  bed. Lots of travel disruption in the news. On the news? Stay put if I were you, unless you are on the way to some tropical paradise somewhere near the equator. Good luck with your travels and don’t forget your swimming trunks. Have a pina colada for me.

Pleased to tell you that the 06:10 from Humberside Airport to Amsterdam got away more or less on time. I just looked. Not used Humberside for some years. It’s only useful for flying to Amsterdam and the flights are expensive. Plus I don’t like Schipol. It’s too big and the security queues are notoriously long unless you have “status” or a business class ticket. I have none of the former and it’s a total waste of money flying business class when you are in the air for less than an hour. By the time the fasten seat belts light goes off it’s almost time for it to go back on again.

We did have a booking there once on a trip back from Antwerp. In between lockdowns in a freezing cold February we decided to have a night out with @Remco and stayed at the Waldorf Astoria which was v nice fair play.  The next day, due to the wrath of hurricane Norma (might have been Eunice), our flight was cancelled and we were left facing the prospect of two more nights in Amsterdam. The winds had also led to shutdown of the trains. Now ordinarily this wouldn’t have been too much of an issue. Amsterdam is not a bad place to be stranded but this was February and it was bloody cold. Not conducive to being a tourist. To cut a long story short we managed to get the last two seats on one of the few flights going to London and eight hours later we were on our way. 

THG’s bag, however, wasn’t with us. It did eventually make its way back to Humberside, the original destination on the luggage tag. Moreover we had to stop the night at the Paddington Hilton which the cognoscenti amongst you will know is pretty shite. She got the case back a few days later and in the meantime, thanks to some filthy disease ridden passengers stranded at Schipol, we went down with Covid. The glamour of airline travel eh?

It is forecast to chuck it down all day here with a suggestion of snow tonight. The bigger issue is what the weather will be like for THG’s 100th Park Run, tomorrow. Fingers crossed it isn’t cancelled. Looking borderline at the mo but runners are tough hombres. What’s a bit of weather? It won’t be particularly nice for running whatever happens. In the meantime she has gone to the pool. Urgh.

In the meantime although we lost the front nine I came out ahead of the game in last night’s (virtual) golf by winning the longest drive competition. We played Augusta although for copyright reasons they had to call it “Georgia” or similar. Texas scramble format with a team of two and a team of three meant that we actually managed nine holes. Last time, at Pebble Beach, and with eight of us playing we only managed three holes in two hours! 

I must away. There is avocado to smash, sourdough to toast and bacon to cook. Man cannot live on granola alone and we haven’t got any left anyway.

Ciao amigos.

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In other news the ice has nearly gone from the lake and the currently empty trug where I chuck recycling stuff from the shed before moving it to the brown bin in the front garden has over an inch of water in it from the overnight deluge. The wind must also have been fierce as the small black plastic plant crate has moved from its previous upside down position by the lake to a spot on the lawn a good eight or nine metres away just out of view of the lake cam. There is no video footage to suggest that an animal was involved even though the fox has form in this respect.

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Had the news on when driving home from the pool. Rarely switch it on as it is mostly bad news. I was amazed to find out how much of the country has been hit by the snow and bad weather. I guess that fits with the Beeb’s definition of bad news and so they gave it coverage. We seem to have avoided it here, apart from the movement of the small black plastic plant crate that is.

If you are snowbound I’d advise lighting the log fire, easing into a nice single malt and waiting until spring.

Wanted to create an anagram of a happy birthday message for someone so asked Gemini to crack on and sort it. Gave me a few options, one of which I selected but something told me to check it and, blow me down, it was wrong. It did use some if not all of the letters in said phrase but had chucked in some extras to make the anagram sound right. Shame really as it was a good idea and the person receiving the card would have had fun working it out. Maybs. I used to occasionally send people messages in hex. Depended on who the recipient was as to whether they got it or not. The things we do eh?

All there is in the diary today is “pruning” at 2pm. 2pm is a random time but the apple trees and grapevine do need doing. Before the end of February. At some point the old pear tree is going to have to come down before it falls over of its own accord. I was actually pondering as I lay awake last night whether to allocate a day in the week for doing this sort of thing generally. Yanow, jobs in the garden, around the house etc. Need to get the raised beds built and the compost heap behind the greenhouse. I daresay other jobs will appear on the list. Thursday is nominally that day as it is the one where THG takes a break from weight lifting/running/swimming/cycling/etc and it can be handy to have an extra pair of hands around for this sort of thing.

These jobs are a lot more doable since hiphop2. Progress continues to be good and this morning I am going to attempt to put a sock on my left foot without the need for an artificial aid. See how it goze.

The walk to the shed this morning was v precarious. Icy footpath. I walked on the grass instead. Us shed dwellers are v safety conscious. The deck is also like an ice rink but there was no getting around that one so I was very careful. Could sling some salt down I suppose. I think we may still have the bag I picked up from the Kracow salt mine. It’s grey salt and never looked appetising enough to use for culinary purposes even though it was probably fine.

I’m happy that we have had a slice of winter but don’t feel the need for anymore sub zero temperatures. You can understand why people shoot off to da Caribbean at this time of year. I did look and there are reward flights available but we have too much going on. Maybe next January.

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Successful sock experiment btw. We move on…

Back in the pool today for the first time since before hiphop2. That’ll be 10 or 11 weeks. Was ok. Did 20 mins plus some spa and steam room time. Didn’t want to overdo it on my first day back. I left home at around noon and was in the pool at twenty five past. No rush. Car park was rammed which didn’t fill me with much joy and initially there were quite a few people in the water. However after five minutes most of them got out leaving me with position A nearest the lane divider in the middle of the pool which means undisturbed lane ploughing.

The funny thing was I had to take my sock puller-onner contraption with me. I’d forgotten that I’d have to get dressed again after the swim, including putting my socks on. I can do my right one but not the left one yet although tbf I haven’t actually tried. Praps I’ll have a go tomorrow.

On the way back into town I pulled into the Damons carpark for a shufty. It looked as if Damons, a local Americun restaurant, had closed its doors and been replaced by a golf simulator company. However there was nowt online to support this. Turns out it is still there but the golf place branding is the only one visible from the road. Schoolboy error really.

Heavy overnight snow fell at the lake. A lone fox trotted by at ten twenty six but soon called pickings slim and moved on. Bears remained firmly in their snow caves. We won’t see them before spring. The low sun, at its coldest setting, isn’t designed to warm up the countryside.

This is effectively the start of 2026. Yes it is already the fifth of January but those first few days were really just a hangover from 2025. THG has gone off to the gym on her bike for a spot of weight training. One tough mudder. I am trying to get my brain into gear to do some work this morning. This ain’t as easy as it sounds after a month celebrating the birth of Christ/midwinter pagan festival/call it what you like.

The shed is warm but I also have season appropriate clothing in the guise of a heavy flannel lumberjack type shirt and my v cozy Himalayan woolly jumper. It has actually become a lovely crisp sunny morning. Still v cold out obvs. 

I’m also going to reactivate my gym membership today and perhaps go for a swim this pm. I can do this via the Total Fitness app which I was initially reluctant to install as it gets terrible reviews. In fact when I logged onto it this morning an Android message came up telling me there was a bug in the app and that I should clear the cache! Tbh all I want to do is rock up, swim, jacuzzi and head home so doubt I’ll be using the app for much. I was able to add my Amex card to the app so that is an improvement on my previous payment method of Tesco Clubcard. I’m pretty sure they said they didn’t take Amex when I first signed up.

In other news I finally got around to deleting the Anne’s Vans Facebook page. We move on……

fox reappeared at 15:06. Of course I forgot to press the record button on the camera! Finally it visited again at 21:52.

The decs are coming down. The tree has been stripped and has moved from its position of pride in the corner of the front room to be dumped unceremoniously next to the woodpile at the bottom of the garden, its entire purpose in life fulfilled. Over. The Christmas cards have been collected together to be stored ready to be put out next year to make people think we have lots of friends :))

We are happy to move on. Get life back to a normal footing. I will regain possession of the workshop currently rammed with the boxes and crates that are used to store the Christmas decs, there are many, dumped there for convenience in the middle of December rather than have the faff of putting them back on their high shelves in the garage. The high shelves will soon be full again and the workshop freed up for more projects.

The Sunday Service on Radio 4 is proving to be satisfactory. Some quality traditional choral work with an interesting historical insert about an old bible. The talkie bits have the right dulcet presentation tones. 

It is my turn to make the tea but it’s norrapnin as THG is away having been on the lash in London with Hannah last night. Importance of Being Earnest. Don’t get me wrong. I’m going to have a cuppa but it will wait until I finally drag meself out of bed for which there is no rush. I’ll take my turn tomorrow instead. 

I’m gonna see if we have a tin of beans in the cupboard. Feels that a hot breakfast is the appropriate choice on this very cold winter morning. The lake will be covered in deep ice and should be safe for skating although I don’t allow it. Don’t want the faff of having to respond to cries for help from skaters who may have discovered a thin section and fallen through. Oops. We live in such a litigious world yanow. The house is warm. 

One thing I picked up on the Sunday Service is that this year is the quincentenary of the publication of William Tyndale’s translation of the New Testament into English. The vernacular of the poor. Gosh. The lad died for his trouble. “He died that we may see the light for ourselves”.

I find religious history very interesting. People got/get very hot under the collar about slight differences in interpretation of things biblical. Infant or adult baptism for example or whether you had to be a true believer in order to get into heaven or would God forgive you at the last minute if he thought you were an ok person anyway. Old Tyndale was topped because the establishment wanted complete control over the minds of the populace and giving them the power to read all about it in their own language instead of latin gibberish didn’t impress. 

Attitudes had changed nobbut a few decades later when in 1588 bish William Morgan published the first Welsh version of the bible. The Act of Union of 1536 had mandated English for all official activities. Most Welsh only spoke Welsh and QE One was worried that the Welsh peasantry being unable to follow her English language Protestant angle on religion and historically being staunchly catholic in their outlook (whodathunk) might rise up against it and her. There is something poetic about the concept of people protesting against protestantism.

The side benefit of the Bible being printed in Welsh was that it effectively saved the language from extinction by standardising its written form and eventually encouraged a huge percentage of the population to learn to read and write. Diolch yn fawr William Morgan.

After yesterday’s positive glut there is no fox action to report this morning.  Gotta go. The kitchen needs tidying up before THG gets back and I have to repair the clothes airer in the utility room. The cord/rope broke yesterday. It is Sunday the 4th January 2026. January the Fourth be with you.