where art collides philosoperontap

Another dank winter’s morn here in Lincolnshire. Winter has mostly been a con in my lifetime. Ok we do get some freezing cold days in January and February (and June) with the accompanying Christmas card scenes but mostly they are wet and miserable.

Christmas is certainly never white. Considering how far North we are in the geographic scheme of things this is disappointing. I know we have the gulf stream to thank for this and there ain’t much I can do about the gulf stream but it would be very nice to have snowy winters. At least they would feel real.

I can’t imagine living at the equator and getting the same weather all year round. Sipping banana daiquiris from coconut shells whilst slung in a hammock between palm trees sounds idyllic but there does come a time where you want to replace the exotica with home comforts. Log fire. Snuggly warm blankets. Hot mug of cocoa instead of coconut cup.

This is the last proper week of work for many of us before the holidays. Absolutely nothing happens anywhere next week and then it’s the Big Day. We all look forward to Christmas. The annual festival of excess. Wouldn’t do us any harm one year to make it the festival of reasonable indulgence, or near abstinence. Not everyone can celebrate it in the same way, not that that is a reason for not celebrating.

Christmas means different things to different people. For me it is a nostalgia trip and the fact that all the kids come home to their mother (and me obvs). For others it is the symbolic mid winter feast celebrated from the early neolithic period, the heyday of Stonehenge.  I’m sure all of you will have different reasons for celebrating.

It isn’t about the struggle to decide what present to get someone. Well it is partly. Don’t do as I did one year and leave it until Christmas Eve afternoon only to find that the one thing the person you love most in the world had asked for was sold out, in ten different shops. Ahem. Then there was the year we said we wouldn’t buy anything for each other. Don’t risk that one!

We do need to somehow strike a balance at this time of year. By this I mean that tomorrow afternoon we are off around the corner for tea and cake. Then I’m taxiing to meet the golfing crowd for the end of season sherbert (again). Friday it’s the Sole Traders Christmas party, starting early afternoon in the Strugglers. Next week it’s the annual Capacity Yorkshire pub crawl and the Morning Star Carols. Then it’s Christmas.

In the words of the immortal Winnie the Pooh,  backson.

…

It is dark again. A flicker of light dances in the hearth. The fire is not lit. It is a battery operated candle. Doesn’t feel totes authentic but it is what it is and represents the age in which we live.

The thing that is wrong about a battery operated candle is the absence of the primordial. That feeling you get when gazing into a fire. Dancing flames take you back to the days outside the cave, huddling closer in for protection from the noises in the night.

Relaxing in the comfort of our hotel room in the heart of Empire. I seem to recall from some remote little used part of my memory banks that Trafalgar Square was considered to be such. I may be wrong. It matters not.

Outside the window two maple leaf flags flutter above the entrance to Canada House. Quite cold out there. I sense. I brought my down lined parka for this trip. Comfort over style.

We are warm and cosy inside and are planning on meeting some pals for a drink at around 5pm. Heading to The Victoria in Dalston later for the Pylons gig. Will be a goodun if you are in town.

Ciao amigos. Hasta la vista (or something like that)

…

The hotel room is triple glazed and seemingly very effective. Winter coats, visible on the street below, stride purposefully by. Tourists remain but difficult to determine their point of origin. Few foreign visitors I expect.

I feel that this afternoon might be the opportunity for me to indulge in a cream cake. Lunch is not on the cards as we breakfasted late.  As for tonight I have ordered 150 Caribbean meals. Washed down by gallons of grog and rum drunk out of tankards and coconut shells. Not going to eat 150 meals myself obvs. There is enough to go around. After much deliberation we arrived at Trinidad curried chicken, especially for Shannon, jerk chicken, jerk pork shoulder, jerk sweet potato and black bean curry all served with rice and peas and roti flatbreads. Followed by that ole favourite pudin de pan with coconut sugar caramelized plantains. Standard pirate fare. And birthday cake if anyone still has room. Sa nice cake.

So got to keep some space for all that. Can always fit in a cream cake though. It is a law of nature.

…

Another successful trefbash. The thunder of the confetti cannons has faded and the last of the streamers have been swept away. Partygoers have left the city for the provinces that most of them call home – the peace of the shires and a slower, more survivable pace of life.

Our train is quite full and someone is sitting in my seat. No seat reservations have been displayed. She was very disgruntled when I suggested to her she might want to move to the window seat so that I could occupy my booked place. We found an unoccupied table further down the compartment and left her to bathe in her own grumpiness. 

We have another party to attend tonight and that is then that until Thursday’s sold out Rills Engine Shed gig. This coming week will be one for getting things done before the holiday season proper. Trefbash is the starting gun for the party season but the return of the tribe to the mothership is the real start of Christmas.

Amongst the many highlights of trefbash60 was the consumption of 152 pornstar martinis. Not sure I’ve ever had a pornstar martini but one assumes that they must have been quite acceptable for the pirate community to have downed that many. The modern pirate equivalent of grog or rum.

…

It is a warm and cosy Sunday morning. I am back in the shed to avoid the sound of the vacuum cleaner that is disturbing the peace of the Sabbath. My great great great great grandfather the Reverend Daniel Davies was excommunicated from his church the Penybont Baptist Chapel in Llandysul for allowing one of his farm workers to work in the fields on a Sunday. The church relented after a few years and let him back in but had they found out that Mrs Davies was also hoovering that morning it might have been a step too far.

It is a bright and sunny morning out there and despite having taken temporary sanctuary in the shed, not being of a religious persuasion I am free to tick one or two jobs off the list. One of them is to get the pork casserole ready for this evening. A long slow cook is the order of the day and it gives me the opportunity to use up a can of the cider we have in the garage.

The second job is to get the Christmas decorations down from the high up shelves in the garage. This is not one man job but as Anne is operating the aforementioned random noise generator she is unavailable to stand at the bottom of the ladder to receive the boxes.

My other job today is all the thank yous that are the fall out from my birthday celebrations. The card givers, the sponsors who make trefbash possible every year. The revellers should consider this as a thank you for coming along and helping me celebrate.

I do find it surreal that trefbash exists. I was going to make trefbash60 the last but the positive sentiment for the party has been so great that I feel it would be letting people down if I stopped now. Considering the covid headwinds it was amazing that we could collectively pull the event off. 

For a brief moment life will fall back into a semblance of normality. I do have to ask what is normal? A cup of tea and toast for breakfast? Gazing out of the window wondering when I will get around to clearing the rest of the leaves off the lawn. That’s an easy one. Green Thumb are coming tomorrow and before they apply any treatment they will have to blow the leaves away. That’s sorted then.

Christmas is coming hard on the rails and tomorrow our first offspring returns from London for the duration. 

Dawns the day of trefbash60. Preparations are complete. The cake is being delivered this pm. 

Phone has been pinging quite a bit. “I’ve caught covid”, “can I bring a +1 who has arrived on a surprise visit”, “I’ve broken my arm”. Etc. Can’t use that one too often. It’s a bit like taking an sneaky day off to “go to your grandmother’s funeral”.

Relaxing breakfast. Until 10ish.

Off to the barbers this morning. He used to cut my cousin Ken’s hair so must be good. Haircut and shave. The Works. Hopefully ears and eyebrows too. I’m of an age yanow.

…..

The hotel room is triple glazed and seemingly very effective. Winter coats, visible on the street below, stride purposefully by. Tourists remain but difficult to determine their point of origin. Few foreign visitors I expect.

I feel that this afternoon might be the opportunity for me to indulge in a cream cake. Lunch is not on the cards as we breakfasted late.  As for tonight I have ordered 150 Caribbean meals. Washed down by gallons of grog and rum drunk out of tankards and coconut shells. Not going to eat 150 meals myself obvs. There is enough to go around.

After much deliberation we arrived at Trinidad curried chicken, especially for Shannon, jerk chicken, jerk pork shoulder, jerk sweet potato and black bean curry all served with rice and peas and roti flatbreads. Followed by that ole favourite pudin de pan with coconut sugar caramelized plantains. Standard pirate fare. And birthday cake if anyone still has room. Sa nice cake.

So got to keep some space for all that. Can always fit in a cream cake though. It is a law of nature.

A quiet start to the day. Up early for the usual start the week meeting. Can’t see me doing it after next week. Also booked swimming for today and tomorrow.

After Tuesday the world goes into trefbash60 mode. The gig is on Thursday – just 3 more sleeps. It feels a little surreal. Obviously I’ve known it’s been coming for almost 60 years. 

When you are a toddler watching the Magic Roundabout on the telly your 60th birthday party plays no part in your thought process. It is an unimaginable timespan away. 3 days is a lot easier to get your brain around. Most things are already sorted. Everything really. Just need to rock up and party.

Outside the shed the leaves continue to fall. Can’t be many left now. The cycle is nearly over. Hibernation starts. Interesting that the world goes into a different mode at this time of year. Except for the stalwarts of our small golf society who have planned a number of rounds of golf over the festive period. Will need to get out for some fresh air.

In the meantime if you haven’t got your outfit sorted for trefbash60 now is the time. #piratesofthecaribbean

It is after noon. Makes more sense to me to make that into two words rather than afternoon. I’ve done the shopping and not bought anything that wasn’t on my list although I did buy two of some of the items on the basis that I wasn’t sure how much was required.

I’ve made it through another Christmas Market without visiting the Christmas Market. The nearest I got was the Morning Star which was rammed with people taking shelter from the cold and rain. 

Terry did even better. He was staying at the White Hart which for those of you unacquainted with our fair city is right in the heart of the Christmas Market. It is however possible to get to the White Hart along Eastgate which avoids the market completely and this is what Terry did. 

In the Morning Star, where we were fortunate enough to find a table, the foursome sat next to us kept putting off the moment of leaving the pub by buying another round. Several times. In the end it was the guilt of having come all the way (from somewhere else) that forced them out into the weather.

Today the weather is sunny with the occasional drifting cloud coming into view. Perfect weather to walk around the Christmas Market. I am disinclined to do this. It will wait until next year…

What a horrible day it is out there. Orrible. I’m sat warm and cosy by the fire in the front room. No way am I going to check out the Christmas Market in this weather. I will make it as far as the Star – meeting Terry at 4.30 for a couple. Maybe three…

All is quiet in the house. Offspring and partners are either chillin upstairs or out satisfying a masochistic urge to get cold and wet walking around the market.

In the kitchen the wireless is playing the Wolves v Liverpool match. Chelski lost earlier against West Hayme or however it is pronounced dahn there. Fwiw.

Darkness is descending. WIth a little luck the temperature is also going to plummet as I have 8 bags of ice in a plastic bucket out the back and I don’t want them to melt before their time. 

In an ideal world they wouldn’t melt at all but having studied physics in my younger days I know this is not going to happen. Certainly not in our house. If we lived in an  igloo on the Arctic ice shelf it might be a different story but were that the case I wouldn’t have had to buy the ice from Waitrose. Also I doubt there is a Waitrose anywhere near the Artic ice shelf. 

The other issue with line of reasoning is that the Artic ice shelf may not be there for too much longer which is a concern obvs.

Gotta go. Have to bring some dead trees in before I head for the pub.

Dark out. Tuesday. Just two days until Thursday. Obvious I know but the significance is that this Thursday traditionally kickstarts Christmas. The return of Lincoln Christmas Market. It heralds our annual carol singing party on the Saturday.

We don’t remember when we had the first party. We think it was before Tom was born and he will be 30 this Christmas. Last year was the only year we didn’t have one. On years where we hadn’t bothered organising one people would ask us about the party so we would relent and have it anyway. There isn’t much to do so we don’t need much notice.

At our party we drink and sing and afterwards when we are carolled out, depending on who is there, we have a bit of a jazz jamming session. People eat before coming but there are snacks – cheesy balls and stuff like that. 

I like cheesy balls. Or at least I think I do but they never really turn out as I seem to remember them. Maybe the recipe changed. It’s the only night of the year we have cheesy balls. That’s because they are crap really and it takes me a year to forget 🙂 

Although the Lincoln Christmas Market is a big affair for the city we stopped “doing it” years ago. The stalls are usually the same every year, ish, and whilst it is probably a good earner for the businesses around the Bailgate area it is a bit of a nuisance for many residents with the roads being closed off.

I usually limit my exposure to the market itself by walking through it to get to the Strugglers for a few on the Friday night, early doors. The main benefit to us of there being the Market is that the kids all come home for the weekend. This is not so much to see the market per se but for our carol singing to which they invite their friends who also come back year on year. It is a source of great pleasure that neighbouring kids who would in the past have been dragged along by their parents still want to come as adults when they have a choice.

We will have a full house and therefore an effort will be put into the provision of a hearty meal on Sunday. Not often do we have a big Sunday lunch so something else to look forward to. We might even get the tree up Sunday morning although I’d have to nip and get it Saturday. 

So that’s the start of the thirty or so days of Christmas.There’s a song there… I look forward to it.

Sat by the fire in the hotel lobby. The flames dance for visual effect rather than heat generation but being there does somehow make you feel warmer. The heating in our room is still not fixed despite daily mentions to reception. I think some sort of gesture from the hotel will be appropriate when we check out. It’s not a money thing.

Today the ladies in my life are off shopping and I have a pink slip, as they say. It looks a lot brighter out there and I feel a museum trail coming on. The hotel is near the British Museum which will do as a starter for ten. I did my, admittedly inadvertent, shopping yesterday and have no need of further worldly goods.

There is now a sizable queue of people waiting to check out. Either they haven’t heard of express checkout or they all have issues with their aircon and want to see what the hotel has to say about it. The few other occupants of the lobby lounge have moved on. Not wanting to waste a moment of their day.

I note that Chelsea are hosting Man U today at 4.30pm. There are 89 tickets available on an aftermarket site (tout) starting at £400 a pop. Similarly there are 3 tickets available for Brentford v Everton from £100 a go at 2pm. Neither feels attractive.

Observations from British museum 

1. Interesting set of exhibits that allow us to marvel at past civilisations 
2. Not an observation unique to me but stunning that people were able to take these artefacts from their original homes. They would be far better in the context of their place of origin. There must have been a lot of damage done in extracting and transporting them.
3. I see this as no different really to the destruction caused by Islamic state 
4. The variety/contrast of different styles from around the world is amazing. Couldn’t happen today with the sharing of information across the internet. 
5. Still lots of people walking around without masks

I find having to wear a mask in the British museum quite oppressive. Stifling. It’s not helped by the fact that I have too many layers on for the temperature indoors. Also whilst my hat is in theory squashable into a pocket the feather is not and it is too warm to wear it indoors.

…

That was yesterday. It is now Monday morning and we are settled into Coach E seats 6, 7 and 8 ready for the off. I’m not expecting anyone to come along and bags seat 5 which is obstructed by two coats and my leather backpack. If they do, and the seat has not been reserved, they will not be popular. 

The temperature outside is 273K although in London there is no frost on the ground. Three bacon rolls have been ordered. When it is freezing cold outside it is all about building up reserves when the opportunity arises

Today taxis were in plentiful supply, a far cry from the sitch on the ground when we arrived. Our transition from hotel to Kings Cross Station was correspondingly uneventful. We stayed at the Doubletree because it was less than half the price of our preferred home from home at the Trafalgar.

We paid for it in other ways as the room was cold, as previously mentioned. Also the breakfast at most Hiltons is mediocre at best. It’s formula applied across the whole franchise. There are some exceptions: Bankside and the Trafalgar. Conrad maybe. I wasn’t particularly impressed with the Park Lane Hilton and the Waldorf is only moderately better. I think the best hotel breakfast I’ve experienced in the UK, at least of all the chains, is at the Intercontinental at the O2. However I don’t collect IHG points and would need to be attending a bash at the O2 to make it work. 

We will need supplies when we get home. The local market should be open for business. Kumquats, caviar and calamari spring to mind but not as supplies we need, just because they rolled off the tongue. I don’t even like calamari. A warming and nourishing soup perhaps 🙂

Have moved operations to the hotel lobby. No rush to do owt today and I quite like sitting quietly watching the world go by. Also the heating in the room ain’t working. They are “sending an engineer”

That said the lounge bit of the hotel lobby is closed although I ignored the barrier and sneaked in. The lobby itself is not conducive to sitting around watching people as the hotel door keeps opening and closing and it is freezing out there.

Today the plan is leisure. John and I are off out to buy him a hat and we have Tom’s birthday party this evening. I’m hoping that the tube will be running and London will be less chaotic than yesterday. Fwiw LNER are telling people not to travel North of York today due to weather related disruption. We are already staying an extra night in town to avoid disruption caused by planned maintenance works on Sunday. The only answer is to stay at home.

You have to be fairly determined to want to be out and about in this weather. The concrete wind tunnels of London, also known as streets, don’t help. Wrap up warm folks.

…

Back in the relative warmth of the hotel after a morning of retail therapy with John. I say relative warmth. The aircon is still only firing on one cylinder but it is a million miles away from the Siberian wasteland that is now Camden.

My new burgundy hat fits well with my purpley silk jacket that has been laid out for tonight’s celebrations. I’m wearing it with a designer Anne’s Vans Originals tshirt and black jeans. I have brought my posh Loakes ones and twos but the weather out there is more daisy roots (we are in London) so I will dress appropriately.

Had a near death incident on the 168 back to the hotel. Well I say near death but I actually nearly left my phone on the seat.Same sort of thing. I checked my pockets as the bus doors opened and realised the sitch so immediately bailed on that stop. Fortunately the phone was there on the seat, top deck about 6 rows back on the right facing forward. Even more fortunately it turns out that stop was one too early so I ended up getting off at the right place. Serendipity ou quoi?. Fortune favours the brave, or simlar.

On the retail front we had gone to buy a hat and some scent (aftershave) for John and we met our objective. I also came away with two more hats, more scent, a badger hair shaving brush and stand and some sandalwood shaving soap all for meeee. And I took the opportunity of booking a haircut and shave on the day of trefbash 60 at Sweyn Forkbeard’s barbers in Camden Market. Down to 12 sleeps now.

I quite like the idea of a leisurely trip to the barbers on my birthday although it is a bit of a trek from the hotel.

A crisp autumn day out there. In the house I have a number of pictures to put up in the East Wing and a roast chicken to prepare for this evening. Hannah is with us this weekend and we will have a nice family dinner, the four of us, thinking always of those not home this weekend. I’m sure they will be fine.

The chicken dinner is a tried and tested formula. Stuffing made with white breadcrumbs, fresh herbs mostly from the garden and chopped bacon. Roast potatoes and parsnips with some peas, and batons of carrots accompanied by pigs in blankets and a delicious gravy. Today I am throwing swede into the mix…

…

Putting up the next batch of pics and now at the command hook glue curing phase where I have to wait an hour before hanging the pictures. I have now run out and awaiting more supplies when Hannah returns from her retail expedition.

In the meantime I am restarting my search for a suitable photo scanner. The Epson one I have been after seems to be discontinued but I’m blowed if I can find the newer model.

Ordered a Fujitsu ScanSnap iX1600 instead – will keep me busy during the long winter months that we are snowed in. Hopefully connectivity to the shed will remain unaffected.

We should be ok for a while if snowed in. We have three freezers full to the brim with unknown foodstuffs and a sack of flour that will keep us in bread for a while.  Might need to source an industrial sized bag of tea bags and hope that the milk float will make it through.