where art collides philosoperontap

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.

Up early ish to set the fire whilst cooking a sausage sarnie. Just the one sausage as that is all there was left but one is enough. Split in two down the middle to finish off on the inside before slapping on a single slice of buttered bread with HP sauce. Wash down with a glass of milk and hey presto, set up for the day.

I now need to go to the bottom of the garden to see if I can find some intermediate sized bits of wood. We burnt most of them over the holiday and most of the ones accessible on the top of the pile are on the big side. Need a log splitter really. They are too hard for the axe. The lesson there is chop early but they were too long anyway and we had to wait until Tom the Tree Man came to do his annual hedge trim. My chainsaw needs servicing/sorting out and It’s a dodgy bit of kit to use anyway so I haven’t rushed to doing that.

Fire now blazing in the grate. Easy once you have the knack. When I were a kid in Wales I remember mam or dad holding newspaper over the fireplace to encourage a draught. In those days it was coal and harder to get going. Mam used to lie in front of the fire once it had got to temperature. We didn’t have a fire in the Isle of Man. Don’t think I’d want a house without a fireplace.

The streets of Lincoln are quiet this morning. Bleary eyed citizens not fully up and running after their New Year’s Eve antics. Doesn’t feel as if there is the need to rush anyway. THG on the other hand is in her Pink Ladies gear and about to hit the streets running. Just a quick 5k. Worrawoman.

We are off to see the Imps play Huddersfield at three – probs set off just after two. Need to wrap up warm innit. The mighty Imps are second in the third division whilst the visitors are fifth so it should be a tight game. Every game is tight at the elite level 🙂 

No lakeside animal action to report overnight. I guess they would have been avoiding the fireworks. Yes they have fireworks even in the wilderness surrounding the lake. People in isolated log cabins not wanting to miss out on all the fun. New Year’s Eve is not just for city dwellers yanow. The sky out there is free of light pollution. The stars themselves offer a spectacular alternative to fireworks and the show lasts a lot longer. And it is free.

This coming weekend the decorations are coming down. It already feels like a Sunday today but it ain’t, obvs. I shall move some of the boxes into the kitchen to facilitate easier de-decoration – a new word I have just invented. If someone else already thought of it all I can say is “how innovative”. We both invented it without even knowing what the other was up to. This word was made to be. 

2026 – the year we invented new words.

Someone would appear to have fixed our downstairs loo seat. At least it looks fixed. Didn’t try sitting on it. Must have been an offspring as it’s been loose for weeks and neither THG nor I have done anything about it. All good. I’ll find out who it was when they emerge from their caves later.

Today, as most of you will know, we commemorate Saint Thomas Becket. His stance in the defence of the right of the church against the monarchy should be an example to us all: “For the name of Jesus and the protection of the Church, I am ready to embrace death”. If I remember right. Some time ago now mind you. Time plays tricks on the memory and I didn’t hear it directly from the horse’s mouth so to speak. I wasn’t there when the dastardly deed was done. Difficult times.

Today is a sporting day in Lincoln. I am off to play golf in a simulator downtown. Not been before although I have used a simulator once before when at a conference in Arizona maybe thirty or so years ago. I imagine the tech has moved on since then. The next day @Huw Rees and I played a real golf course. The resort we were staying at had three courses and we called the pro shop to book a tee time. As the long evening went into the morning we kept calling them to push back the tee time further and further. The pro shop phone must have diverted to reception because there was no way they would have been open at that time of night.

Anyway when we eventually rocked up to play it turned out that we were the only ones there and had the run of all three courses. July is off season in Arizona due to the extreme heat. We randomly chose the middle course, loaded up the golf cart, including cold drinks and ice in the onboard fridge, and got going.

Now if you’ve never been to Arizona you need to know there is a lot of desert and said desert contains cacti, rattlesnakes, scorpions and other creatures designed to do you harm. Moreover this golf course had no rough. If your ball went off the fairway you were immediately in cactus and snake territory. There was no way we were going in there to look for our balls. Also the fairways were quite tight and our tee shots kept straying from the straight and narrow. The upshot was we had lost all our balls by the time we got to the ninth. I had stopped using a driver off the tee after the first in favour of the safer seven iron but it didn’t help. We packed it in and went back to the air conditioned bar to recuperate.

I doubt we will have this problem today and the bar is on site apaz which is unlikely to help the actual golf but we are really just there for the craic. Fore.

Feels a little odd being up this early at this time of year. Mind you it is the Feast of the Holy Innocents today so I daresay there is some in built instinct that says get up at five thirty, put on a coarse woollen shirt and walk barefoot to the top of a mountain to pray at a shrine. Something like that anyway. I could light the fire but I think I’d need to nip to the bottom of the garden to the wood store for some kindling and the fire will wait as it will be cold out :).

My grandmother used to get up every morning to sort out the fire which was kept burning most of the time. She had a fireplace where you could shut off the flow of air to slow the burn down overnight. V handy if the only source of heat for the house is a fire. She received free coal, being a miner’s widow.

It’s my turn to make the tea this morning anyway so being downstairs makes me handily placed to put the kettle on. Not yet though. Twirly. Had meant to stay up to watch Luke the Nuke last night but he didn’t come on until quite late so after the first leg I left Tom and THG to it and hit the hay.

The Davies family Christmas meal is today. We all appeared yesterday afternoon although Hannah and George got here first, dumped their gear and went straight to the pub. Reminds me of myself in my younger days going home to the Isle of Man at Christmas. Our local was The Crosby Hotel which was a mile and a half away from the house. The walk home from the pub was very dark once you left the main road. There was a country lane for half the walk where sometimes I had to keep to the middle of the road to feel the camber so that I knew I wasn’t about to fall into the ditch at the side. It was that dark. Long time ago now. These days we have Uber, though not in the Isle of Man I don’t think.

It’s a bit of a shame in a way that Uber has arrived in Lincoln as it has seriously affected the local taxi trade. Mind you you can usually get an uber even if you have to wait ten minutes but it used to be that if you hadn’t booked a taxi well in advance the chances of getting one to pick you up from a party in the wee small hours of the morning were pretty remote. I’ve noticed that very few taxi drivers are from Lincoln any more and I suspect hardly any Uber drivers. It means they don’t really know the town and rely on sat nav to get from A to B. Often means they take you on non optimal routes. In London I prefer a black cab to an Uber if the option is there. The black cab drivers know their way.

The Christmas meal will be served up this evening in a break from the usual Christmas Day format. This suits everyone. Half the occupants of the house are in training for the Seville Half which takes place next month so they will be off out running this morning as will THG who missed the park run this week because there isn’t one where we were in Wiltshire. It’s her hundredth park run coming up soon. I’m very proud of her.

Gotta go. The kettle doesn’t boil itself yanow?

The subject of handwriting letters came up. Because we mostly type these days our handwriting skills are disappearing. It takes me too long and hurts my hand after a while. I do however like the idea of sending people letters even though postage is expensive these days. Sending someone a Christmas card almost feels like you are flaunting your wealth. Typing a letter doesn’t feel the same. Not the same level of personalisation. Then I thought if I could type a letter in my own handwriting that might be a game changer. In other words have a font that looks like my handwriting. Gemini tells me such tools are available. 

Now a couple of things spring to mind. Printing out such a letter still doesn’t represent a show of effort to the recipient. Also it will almost certainly be easy to spot. Then there is the issue of whether such font will be legible. My handwriting has always been terrible. Finally google docs doesn’t let you upload custom fonts although I believe Microsoft word might. The other issue is whether anyone really cares anymore, in this age of instant communications.

Perhaps it’s time I moved on from that specific hangup. I still like the idea of sending letters though and will investigate the printing of envelopes on my printer. It is doable. Just that I’ve never done it. If I’m printing the letter I may as well print the envelope an all.

Today we move on from Holt and the Cookson abode back to the shire. We had a fox visit at 2:42am. Caught on the greenhouse cam. Will need to get back to check out the lake cam for any other visits. The wildlife has had free rein while we’ve been away.

…

Typically terrible traffic en route home. To be expected I guess. I took the brunt of it and now THG is in the driving seat for the downhill bit from Warwick. Bloody roadworks everywhere. There is a good reason why I take the train whenever I can. We stopped at some terrible services but at least it was some food inside us and let us stretch our legs. 

Chindian takeaway order for tonight:

Obvs someone changed their mind and decided against a chicken balti. I’m sharing a crispy duck starter with Tom and then having my usual beef curry fried rice.

Now queuing at the end of the M69 to get onto the M1. I’m not driving obvs. Gawd, it’s tedious.

I must say I do enjoy this cold weather. As long as you are properly wrapped up it is fine. The one caveat is that our gaff is single glazed and you can really tell the difference. We put new windows in our house a few years back which was a game changer.

This morning the entertainment on offer is a boules tournament on the village green. They had over 160 teams enter last year apaz. Four to a team. Everyone piles into the pub afterwards. We may leave the sport to the younger generation and get to the pub early :). Makes alorra sense to me.

My secret santa prezzie was a shipping forecast tshirt. Map of all the areas. Santa must be a Facebook friend because I’ve occasionally referred to the SF here as an aid to sleep during my recovery from hiphop2. Either that or a regular visitor to philosopherontap. I’m very pleased with the shirt and will wear it today together with my new thick flannel shirt (thank you THG) and my extremely warm Himalayan woolly pulley purchaysed from Black Yak at the Lincoln xmas market a few years ago. My coat is on this occasion my Irish tweed pea jacket, also v warm. Wrap up warm folks.

Our present opening time this year was a very restrained affair. Not the usual frenzy of flying wrapping paper. That happens on Sunday which is when the Davieses converge on their lincoln HQ. I am hoping for a socket set. Been a very good boy all year afaik.

As we were basking in the success of the secret Santa present giving the conversation turned, as oft the case at this time of year to frankincense and myrrh. I hadn’t realised that frankincense was in such short supply. In fact the world is said to be running out of the stuff (not fact checked this but let’s take it as read). On that basis might I suggest that an investment in frankincense stocks (geddit?) might yield good returns. Remember one does have to take a long view on this. These investments can take millenia to mature and this post should not be considered to constitute financial advice for which you should seek the advice of a qualified professional.

So now the cottage is a hive of activity as us occupants prepare to depart for the sport. All except me who is still sat on my arse ritin this. Better go. Ciao amigos.

…

Doh – sister Ann found the thermostat this pm. It was set to 16 degrees. Schoolboy error. It is now on 21 degrees. Much more comfortable!

Breakfast over. Waiting my turn at the sink to wash my plate and bowl together with various bits of ironmongery. Simple fare for a change for Christmas Day which is normally a full on job. Two slices of sourdough toast, two croissants and half a grapefruit. I’m conscious of the smoked salmon blinis to come at eleven followed by roast suckling pig off the barbecue at one thirty, or similar. Seem to have left the butter in the bag I used to carry some vino over to the Cooksons but at least the owner of the cottage has left some Lurpak amongst the “welcome” supplies. 

Tom has gone out for a run. Tis v vold out there.

Our first Christmas away from home for some considerable length of time. I must say it is nice not to have the responsibility of cooking albeit merely delayed until Sunday back at ours where the Davies family is convening. These days I focus on just the meat, gravy and the roast potatoes. I am not trusted with all the veg after the year I did it all and didn’t have everything ready at the appointed time. The use of the Meater thermometer pretty much guarantees a perfect result and I’m a pretty dab hand at gravy and roasties even if I say so myself. I also do the pigs in blankets.

The setup we have here is ideal. We are in the Old Coach House cottage just down the road from the Cooksons gaff. A leisurely start for both sets of occupants before gathering for the main event mid morning. It’s a secret Santa job when we get to theirs. Easiest way to go when we have ten of us. Imagine if everyone had bought everyone else a prezzie. Nine presents each to open times ten. Carnage. Chaos. Expensive.

Anyway happy Christmas to all. Hope you have a great day. I have to go. The sink has become free.

My cauliflower cheese was consumed to much acclaim last night. Wasn’t perfect as the cheese sauce wasn’t thick enough but its tastiness made up for that shortcoming. Truth is I’ve always asked THG to make the cheese sauce whenever required as part of a dish but she was out at the carol service at the cathedral yesterday and so I did it. THG is a dab hand at cheese sauce. 

The order of service for the carols looked terrific and I might well go myself next year. It was strictly kept to traditional lines with no sales pitch from the dean/bish/whoever the mc was. Busy day today as I’m sure it is for most of you. In fact I was just heading out to Waitrose for the bread run when it was pointed out to me that there was a pot of tea awaiting my attention so I’m now just polishing off a cuppa before going.

I trust all is in hand for your yuletide celebrations whatever form they take and I’d like to wish everyone a very happy Christmas. Love and peace to all, etc xxx

…

Guy Osborne

Cauliflower is the food of the devil

Merry Christmas to the Davies family. Hopefully catch up soon 

• Reply

Guy Osborne you are totally wrong. I refer you to Mark chapter 27 verse 12: “And Jesus took his usual break from performing miracles to go home to see his folks during the Christmas holiday. On his birthday mother Mary would make him cauliflower cheese, his fave dish from childhood”.

Blessed are the cauliflower cheesemakers for they will ward off the devil…

Did a great steak and chips last night fair play to me. 4 cm thick piece of ribeye cooked for 3 mins either side and then left to rest whilst I finished off the chips. The chips themselves had been part cooked earlier at a low temperature then finished off with the big gas ring on full blast. The recipes tell you to cook the fat at a certain temperature but I don’t have anything I could sensibly use for the measurement and so just used different sized rings with the lower temp one turned down a bit. Caramelised onions cooked for at least 45 mins and a few shrooms cooked on the griddle whilst the steak was resting. Roll in a few peas, some dijon moutard and yer uncle’s name is Bob. I quite like scrunching up the peas onto bread and butter to finish them off.

Early to bed after watching Alumni University Challenge and Have I got News For You Christmas special/best bits of the year. As a result of the early night I’m up at five thirty, partly because I was awake anyway and partly to avoid disturbing THG with my constant shifting of position in bed. Although I am now allowed to sleep on either side there is still a limit on how long I manage to do so in any given position. Getting better all the time.

Finished off my Christmas shopping yesterday. Our John has volunteered to wrap for me. Hannah normally performs that role but she is at her inlaws this year, the first time we will not have a full line up on Christmas Day. A watershed in family life if ever there was one.

Tonight I am making cauliflower cheese with a slight difference. The cauliflower florets are going to be roasted first coated with olive oil, fenugreek, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Found the recipe somewhere in the aether. The cheese is going to be a combo of strong cheddar, gruyere and parmigiano and some smoked bacon lardons thrown in for very good measure. Bought some bacon offcuts from Fosters the other day which when chopped up will do the job nicely. The beauty of the dish is that I can prepare most of it during the day and just finish off in the oven tonight.

Today I am back down to Fosters to pick up the meat. Specifically three ribs of beef that we are having on the 28th December. They have sorted me a piece that still needs a bit more hanging which we will do in the fridge for a few days. Fosters are closed on the 27th which makes sense. They will have been run off their feet in the run up to the big day. Will bung in some bacon, sausages and pigs in blankets while I’m there. I normally make my own pib’s but the ones on display in the shop the other day looked good so figured I’d just buy theirs. There will be a big queue…

THG left the house at around oh seven twenty for her pool training session. Her influence is far reaching. Three out of four of her children plus a son in law are running in the Seville half marathon in January. Hannah is up to 20km I believe though she started a little earlier than the others as she was the first to get registered. THG doesn’t have a half marathon in her sights. There is only so much you can do. Christmas will no doubt effect a hiatus in the Seville half training schedule. They will run off the excess I am sure.

The Christmas excess is quite interesting. It isn’t a modern invention. Perhaps the scale of it is modern but the practice is not. St Stephen, St John the Baptist, the Holy Innocents and St Thomas Becket are all going to be feasted over the coming days. Any excuse for a pissup even in medieval times where they probably had to brew their own beer. Although life was a lot harder then it’s interesting to note how many saints days and other days in the agricultural calendar were used as an excuse for a celebration. I guess they didn’t have Netflix in those days and needed other avenues of entertainment. I don’t have Netflix either and so will apply myself diligently to remembering Steve, John, the holy innocents and Tom. Not so sure about the feast of the circumcision which I remember right is on New Year’s Day. Might cut that bit out…

THG and I are heading down to Sincil Bank on New Year’s Day anyway to watch the Imps wallop Huddersfield. Will need to wrap up warm. She is a big fan. The last time we went was with Rhys and Eirian to see the last game of the season v Wrexham. They are Wrexham fans. Wrexham won. We lost. Managed to squeeze in a couple of beers in the Golden Eagle before the game, three pints during the game and a visit to the Everest curry house afterwards. This seems to happen quite regularly when we go out with my old university pals! The Golden Eagle was rammed with Wrexham supporters and the queue at the bar was overly long. 

I am reminded that THG wants to go to the Victoria on New Year’s Eve as Hey Dude are playing. They are her fave local band. The problem is getting anywhere near the bar will be a challenge and to get a seat will be near impossible. Seehowitgoze innit.

Fabulous afternoon at the over 30s disco at Home nightclub yesterday. 3pm til 8. A not very good kebab (now there’s a surprise) afterwards and quick taxi home (gosh – I guess it was early and there was therefore availability). It reminded me of the nights out at the Cave disco in Douglas. 70s. Music was the same, the dancing around the handbags was the same. A good crowd of us went and we were there early enough to bag a booth around the back of the dance floor. The only negative was the blast of freezing cold AC right next to the table that made me wish I’d brought me cardigan. I hadn’t of course as that would not have been cool and I don’t have a cardigan anyway. I wore my tropical trefbash shirt for only the third time. Needed ironing but hey, nobody noticed or cared on the basement dancefloor of Home. I can’t remember the last time we went clubbing.

Early to bed and so early up today to make the tea. As of last night we have two offspring in the house but doubt they will surface for some time. I may be wrong. This morning I am preparing, by request, what has been termed as a Normandy pork casserole. We already had most of the ingredients in the cupboard but I needed to source a bit more pork and some creme fraiche which I did yesterday before heading out clubbing. The pork came from Fosters but the creme fraiche was from a local market by the name of Waitrose. 

Having ascertained from a helpful member of staff the whereabouts of said dairy product I stood in front of the refrigeration unit pondering my options. The recipe specifically said “don’t buy the half fat version Tref” if my memory serves me right but the right product didn’t immediately jump off the shelf, shake me by the collar and shout “I am the one for you”.

Moreover, as is always the case, there appeared to be multiple options to choose from at varying price points. I struck up a conversation with the woman standing next to me asking if she knew much about creme fraiche. She told me that the half fat options were the ones to avoid as they had extra sugar in them. We were as one on this topic. She also told me she used to be a practice nurse so clearly knew what she was talking about. I chose the smallest tub of Waitrose Number 1 full fat creme fraiche and continued with my shopping.

No overnight fox news but as we know, Reynard is not just a night time wanderer and I will check the lake cam during the course of the day. You will be the first to find out if there is anything to report. Stand by…