where art collides philosoperontap

Sausages were offered as a breakfast item this morning. Rarely knowingly refused. THG dug them out of the freezer. Fried with shrooms, garden tomaytoes, no baycon and an egg. Un oeuf is enough, as they say. Well I do anyway. Fortunately they were Fosters sausages. Could detect their saltiness, interestingly. If you look at food content there is a fair bit of salt in sausages. Only discovered this when I recently restarted reusing myfitnesspal. Woteva.

Today is a Wednesday. I know this because it tells me at the top right hand corner of my laptop screen. Not given much consideration to the day ahead yet. I have a lane swimming session booked for 3pm and might see if I can get the chainsaw going to continue tidying up the woodstore area.  Not totes comfortable with the idea of using the chainsaw and it needs a bit of tlc to get it started anyway so it might not happen. I’ve got all the gear though!

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One of my present tasks is tracing my Welsh 5G grandfather/mother. I have the 4G grandparents and his brother was the rector of several churches in Cardiganshire in the late eighteenth century: Llandysul, Bangor Teifi and Henllan. Slim pickings I imagine but at least there is a chance there will be some record of his origins and therefore the 5Gs.

The problem is the church records are a bit patchy from that time and you do have the issue of nobody having surnames. His name was David Davies. That would have been derived from David son of David after St David. The area is in the Diocese of St Davids. 25% of the people in that area are Davieses and any records going back from that time are likely only to have the Christian names.

I contacted Carmarthen Registry Office who told me I had to subscribe to Ancestry.co.uk to get the info online. Sigh. I was hoping they provided it themselves. Bit of a copout really. I’ll probably sign up when I really need to. At least they were quick responding. I could nip down the library here in Lincoln because access is free there. That is, however, downtown… Also gawd knows how much of a queue there might be to use their computers. Easier to just fork out the cash innit. Just looked and it’s cheaper than I thought. Sokay.

Then yesterday I messaged the Diocese of St Davids. One would hope they might have some info. They haven’t come back to me yet. I guess they maybe only work Sundays? Nah only joking.

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Went for a ride on my ebike this morning for the first time in over a year. My god my hips are stiff as hell now. I have mild osteo arthritis in the hips and just the gentle cycling motion has really had an effect. They do get a little sore after swimming and definitely after walking any distance but the cycling is a first. When you think of it the hips are being used all the time when riding a bike in a way that is not otherwise the case.

Swim booked for 9.15 this morning so up and at it early for a spot of invigorating granola n yo. A few freshly picked berries thrown in for colour. Well they were freshly picked at some stage. Good kip 6h43m with a score of 84 @Domhnal.

Looking a bit hazy out there but the forecast is for sunshine. It will no doubt be the weather for making some more inroads into the woodpile. There is something deeply satisfying about a good pile of logs. It is currently a haphazard assembly thrown there with no sense of tidiness or appearance. 

The area under the actual log store is full of old fence and bits of discarded furniture that really needs extracting and sorting/chopping down into kindling. Assuming I can actually get to it. The problem is some of the logs in the way are fairly substantial and need cutting down to size. There are also a few thicker branches that are good for the stage between kindling and logs. Don’t fret pet, I’ll sort it.

I have several wood related books. Well two. Must be a thing. I’d quite like to get into a bit of woodworking but currently there are other priorities.

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As I wait for The Head Gardener to be ready to go to the pool there is a bird chirping away in the garden. Why wouldn’t you want to chirp on a lovely sunny day in late autumn. I wonder what he or she is saying. Lifting up its head and belting away for anyone who wants to listen. Life is good. Enjoy it.

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Some very noisy fast jets just took off from RAF Waddington. I scanned the skies looking for them but was dazzled by the sun. Just like in the Battle of Britain. Gotta be careful. Dakkadakkadakka. Eventually I saw a small black shape disappearing into the northern aether. Continued along the path to the shed with pot of tea in hand.

Can’t get over how nice a morning it is. The shed doors are wide open once more. Indian Summer. Clinging on to the real thing.

The line is full of washing that will almost certainly be dry. Except perhaps for the swimming togs I just hung out. I have two lots on the line because I left the ones from yesterday overnight. No dramas 🙂

I dunno about you but I quite like writing about everyday stuff. If you look at what others write in the media it is full of political crap, disasters and the fact that some member of the royal family is now forty years old and has changed a lot since he was thirty. Well tbh who gives a flying f&*k.

Some of the news is probably relevant to me. Might affect how much tax I pay or whether I can heat the house over the winter but I pay people who like to dabble in such matters to sort things out. I don’t want to have to do their job. I just vote.

Life itself is a work of art that should be able to entertain and keep us happy. It does help if you can apply a splash of colour to the canvas but it can’t be a non stop rainbow. Life has different shades and hues obvs.

There is a medium sized dark green trug full of kindling on the deck in front of the shed. Chopped up bits of fence. I am going to transfer the wood to a larger trug and fill that up. I have a yellow one with a split in the plastic that is perfect for the job. I keep a hand axe in the shed especially for this purpose.

The deck btw has improved since I cleaned it up and applied the preservative. No longer slippery. Rosso when he was here putting up the new fence in the front, also screwed some of the edging back in that was coming apart. It should now be good for a few more years. I’ve moved the planter onto the path in front as the base was rotting and not doing the deck any good. 

The deck looks a lot better and there is more room now for folk to sit around a table during the summer months. I just need to source a good solid bench to finish it off.

As well as tidying the woodpile there is some old wiring I need to get rid of at the side of the deck. This is not a huge job. Just need to do it. It isn’t even on the jobs list which is normally a prerequisite for anything to get done.

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Remember, remember the twelfth of December, cocktails, dancing and trefbash.

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Been quite a busy lad. Tidied up the logpile a bit more as mentioned. There is now a path to the woodstore. More to do but a lot of it relies on the big logs being cut down to a sensible size which will have to wait until Tom the Tree Man comes to do his annual hedge maintenance. Sometime this coming winter. Lots of kindling now in the yellow trug under cover of the store on top of the logs. That is enough for today, probs.

Removed the old cabling and box that had been there to connect the floodlights on the old trellis from the pre shed days.. Still some armoured cable there but I couldn’t pull it through. I’ll need to get my spade out to get at it. Manana. My god it is all happening.

This is great stuff to do while the weather is nice. Not too hot either. Looks like another good day tomorrow. Progress, progress.

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Listening/half watching to Young Boys v Aston Villa. Have heard of very few of the players. The one that does stick in the mind is Onana, assuming that’s how you spell his name. Only because it sounds like the lyrics of a song: Onana, na onana, na onana onanah.

I like some sports people just because the name rolls off the tongue. Novak Djokovic for example is another very poetic name. Then there was Divok Origi, he’s my baby. Not really. It’s a song  Dewsbury-Hall sounds like a stately home. I always say Phil Foden’s name the wrong way round. Foden, Phil sounds better to me.

I’m sure there are others. There was Jan Vennegoor of Hesselink which is a v cool handle. Don’t think he’s playing anymore. Whenever there’s a Davies on the pitch I always call him cousin so and so (insert actual name).

Anyway that’s all. I thought I’d share that with you. The football match itself holds no interest to me whatsoever.

Monday morning, apaz. Busy week ahead. 3 lane swimming sessions booked Monday to Wednesday and off to London for a meeting on Thursday. In between swims the jobs list should see some progress. Nothing too onerous. Bit of glueing, boxing up and moving apples. Maybe even a bit of garage tidying. 

The big thing for this week is that I’m starting research for my next book. It’s an idea that has been in the pipeline for a decade since doing some family tree research. The history of my  family on the Welsh side has very much reflected what has been happening in the world over the last two to three hundred years. 

This includes becoming tenant farmers, participation in the religious revival of the eighteenth century, the involvement in the woollen factory business during the industrial revolution and then when UK cloth manufacturing stopped due to cheap foreign imports we became coal miners and engineers. My father was the first in the family to get a University degree and I have been part of a modern technology revolution that is still very much ongoing. Bewilderingly so.

There is a lot of research still to do but figured this would be a good use of some of my time. The book is not going to be about my family but about what my family was doing in the context of what was going on in the world at the time.

You ain’t going to hear much more about this for some time but I thought I’d stick it out there at the start.

In the meantime I’ve also got to get the last trefbash launched. Will hopefully be good to go next week. Keep yer eyes peeled. 12th December. 2024.

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No sooner had I posted the above and got dressed than I did the first job on the list. The magnetic door holder on the cupboard in the hallway where THG stores half her shoes was glued back in position. See it, sort it. 🙂

Then just as I was on my way out the back door to the shed with a pot of tea I heard a cry from upstairs. A big lorry had parked in front of our drive. Obvs we need to be able to get in and out to go to the gym and no sooner had I been alerted than I strode out to make enquiries. 

The young lad putting out cones explained that either Openreach or Virgin or simlar (they never got to know who) was about to undertake some fibre laying, presumably, up the road. Can’t be City Fibre as they’ve already done our road. Some time ago. The lad was putting up some temporary traffic lights. Would be gone by nine thirty so fine. The lights would still be there obvs but we will just need to keep an eye out on the traffic flows.

Anyway excitement over for now and I am in the shed. All is calm.

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Productive enough day so far. Bit of glueing, bit of kindling chopping, a start made on my bench tidy for hanging tools, trip to the tip, meeting arranged for Friday afternoon (don’t want to overdo these things), apples packed and put away, 30 min swim. Not bad.

btw we found out why the dairy closed down.  problems recruiting staff. we got a letter. you can understand why. I wonder if our guy had left leaving them short of people.

We have two eating apple trees. The one near the back fence has seen a lot of ‘insect action’ on the fruit so I’ve concentrated more on picking the apples near the barbecue. That tree is pretty much stripped now and I’ve not particularly bothered with the windfalls as we now have plenty of fruit for our first batch of cider. Just need to get yesterday’s harvest boxed up today.

A day of autumnal feasting in prospect. Roast pork with all the trimmings. Apple and blackberry crumble with custard. I do need a top up trip to Waitrose. Butter, custard and onions. Not necessarily in that order. Might also buy some stock.

We haven’t had a roast for months but now is the time. Fluffy roast potatoes, crisp crackling, sage and onion stuffing, apple gravy. Bit of English mustard on the side. It ain’t rocket science. Just the basics done well.

I used to always add a slug of sherry into gravy but not done that in a while. One slug for the gravy and two for me. Not today. Driving Joe to the stayshun later. Also I want to stay awake into the evening. Whilst a boozy Sunday lunch is one of life’s joys you do have to write off the rest of the day.

But first, breakfast.

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It is still nice enough to sit out on the deck, albeit in a dressing gown. Cup of tea at my side. Magpie croaking noisily behind me. An unattractive croak has the magpie. Nasty bullies. We saw one attacking a blackbird on our lawn last year.

The leaves are very much back. Dead crinkled shadows of their former productive glory. We will need to decide when is the best time to shift em. More will come anyway.

The Sunday service was all about harvest. I switched off the wireless because as you may know I am very fussy about the Sunday service and this one didn’t cut it. However it did remind me that this is an important time of year for us all regardless of whether you treat it as a religious affair or not. Nature’s annual cycle continues to turn.

Seasonally, I threw a couple of slices of apple into the pan with the bacon. We learned of sliced apple as an ingredient of a cooked breakfast years ago when staying at Winteringham Fields. Figured it was about time we revisited the practice. We should also revisit the restaurant (with rooms) but it is best done with friends and last time I asked we couldn’t get anyone else to come along.

My flower meadow continues to produce. The packet said to expect blooms until the end of October and it is living up to the promise. Should be even better next year. I’m sat looking at it now. Ordinarily in years gone by I’d be flicking through the Sunday paper. Nowadays it is all done online. I am doing so on my laptop. The problem is there is not a single story that has tempted me to click and I scrolled all the way down to the bottom. I despair.

The greenhouse to my right is still producing tomatoes and the odd cuke. It’s next function is to store the apples for a month or so. I do need to move the boxes in there. Currently they are using up space in the utility room which pleaseth not THG.

I am pleased to announce that philosopherontap is now up to date. The site has 2,462 published posts of which 2,215 are mine. The rest are guest posts. Miscellaneous bits of poetry n stuff. Nowadays it uses the simple, standard wordpress template but in the past I’ve had lots of graphics in there. I may yet return to that format, at least with a featured image, but it will need to wait. I have other priorities. I started it in August 2008. Gosh.

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Much of the sunday dinner (lunch, depending on where you come from) is prepped. Now waiting in for someone to come and pick up the camping kitchen sold on FB Marketplace for a tenner before I can nip to Waitrose. Need ohohions, butter and something else. It’s written down but can’t remember what it is immediately. This is why we write things down. Custard, that was it 🙂Need to decide between Ambrosia and Waitrose’s posh stuff. Both have their plusses. Both need serving cold whatever happens.

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Forgot to mention yesterday that during our visit to St Denys’ church I noted the hymn numbers off the board: 105, 572, 626 and 104 in thats order. No idea whether they were left over from the previous weekend or put up in advance for today’s gig. Whatever the answer, and I’ve not looked up the specific hymns themselves, it is an important omission that I am happy to have now corrected.

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Pork Roasting guide

c gas 7 for 30 mins or until the skin has crisped up, then reduce heat to 160. c gas 3 and roast for a further 35 minutes per KG and adding on 15 minutes at the end of the cooking time, always allow to rest for 25-30 mins before carving.

So for a 1.27kg joint it is 30 mins at gas mark 7 followed by an hour at gas mark 3 then a 25 mins rest.

So for a 2pm dinner stick it in the oven at noon.

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Bought 3 onions, custard and butter (president salted) at Waitrose as previously mentioned. Had to be rescanned! The guy only scanned the custard. Fortunately it was only a small shop 🙂

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Just go with truth and beauty and forget the rest – Bill Evans (according to Tony Bennet)

Silence prevails. THG is upstairs preparing for the park run but child 3, who said he would go with her, shows no movement in the land of the living. He went out with some mates last night. I am preparing to cook a full English. 

A full English later and child 3, boy 2, has appeared in his running gear prepared to pound the track at Yarborough Leisure centre fair play to him.

I, on the other hand, am now relaxing in the conservatoire with a cup of tea contemplating the day ahead. THG and I are off to the bustling and historic market town of Sleaford. In the mid twelfth century Sleaford was granted the right to hold a market and I am hoping it will be open today when we go. Would be a shame if they had stopped doing it. Where else would Sleafordians go for their pots and pans, leather goods, spices and so on and so forth.

The cathedral bells have just struck nine, the signal for the runners to start. The fact that I can hear the bells suggests there is a westerlyish wind. Checking with the met office the wind is indeed coming from SSW/SW. Good to know.

Before we go I need to get some chicken marinating. 

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The Davieses hit Sleaford. We parked next to the Hub arts centre and strolled into the Marketplace. Unfortunately said marketplace was undergoing major renovation and the market had temporarily moved, to the other end of our car park!

As an interim move we went in to St Denys church. Quite interesting fair play. V old. Had a chat with a woman brushing away cobwebs. “So many of them around at this time of year”. I have pasted the complete list of vicars of St Denys because I know you will be interested.

Back at the car park, I mean market, we found the plant stall. In fact this was the only stall that could be arsed to turn up. Sokay, THG filled a bag with plants and bulbs and came away happy. 

The plant seller was right next to The Hub arts centre where we had lunch. I ordered a cheese and ham sandwich. I had eaten half of it before I realised it only contained cheese. Hmm maybe it was cheese or ham but upon checking, the wording on the menu seemed unambiguous. The woman behind the counter confirmed this and took back the remaining half a sandwich and replaced it with the full spec item.

Upstairs the Hub had a very interesting display. I was somewhat sceptical beforehand but no, interesting it was and time well spent. Stuff made of paper. Afterwards we called in at Cogglesford Mill. My dad was born in a watermill called Maesdulais near Pontyberem in Sir Gar. They made woollen cloth.

 Then headed home in the Silver Bullet. The fields of Lincolnshire were a patchwork of straws, greens and browns. The moving hedgerows served as a blurry filter with at one point a ploughing tractor visible through the haze. There was an interesting contrast between the hedges that had been trimmed and those still growing unkempt and random (no grammar police please, I’m not interested). A  tree periodically stood guard in the line of each hedge.

Back home I had to shed the shirt, bow tie and long trousers I had worn for the visit and am now back in my usual shorts and tee shirt.

The list of vicars now follows. Note that I used google lens on my phone to copy the text from a photo and was offered the function of storing the copied content on my Mac Mini for onward pasting. Inneresting.

VICARS OF SLEAFORD PARISH CHURCH, ST. DENYS

1277: HENRY DE SWINDERBY
        : RICHARD DE BRAY
1284: ROBERT DE WHYTEMORE
1313: JOHN DE KIRKEBY
1336: HENRY DE LEVESINGHAM
1340: THOMAS DE WERDALE
1515: JOHN GODFRE
1539: WILLIAM WARRE
1545: ROBERT BAYT.
1553: CHRISTOPHER BICKERDICK
1558: GEORGE COCKET
1577: JOSEPH OVERTON
1587: THOMAS WESTCOTT
1591: JOHN HUDDLESTONE
1603: EDMUND NEWTON
1618: RICHARD FLEAR
1627: THOMAS GRIFFITH
1630: ROBERT ALFORD
1644: RICHARD MILWARD
1640: MILES LONG
1648: HENRY TEONGE
1656: GEORGE BOHEME
1660: HENRY ALLEN
1682: WILLIAM WYCHE
1691: EDWARD SMITH I. M.A.
1703: THOMAS SELLER M.A.
1737: WILLIAM SELLER M.A.
1769: WILLAM SMITH II
         : RICHARD BRANSTON
1780: JOHN PLAMPIN
1781: EDWARD WATERSON. M.Α
1809: RICHARD YERBURGH I. D.D.
1851: RICHARD YERBURGH II. B.Α.
1882: ALFRED LANGDON B.A.
1926: WILLIAM NORTON HOWE M.A.
1938: CHRISTIAN FREDERIC WAUDBY Μ.Α. ΟΧΟΝ
1960: PHILIP ERNEST MANN M.A. CANTAB. B.A. LONDON 
1972: HENRY GORDON MITCHELL. M.A.
1986: JOHN STEPHEN THOROLD
2002: JOHN ANDREW PATRICK B.A.
2013: PHILIP ANTHONY JOHNSON, MA, FIBMS

The milkman didn’t come again this morning. There are six empty bottles in the front porch awaiting collection. Reality is the milkman ain’t coming no more, no more, the milkman ain’t coming no more.

It feels as if we have lost a member of the family. A pretty terminal state of affairs. No longer will I need to check the CCTV to see what time he arrived, or be woken by the clinking of bottles as the porch door was opened and then closed behind him.

Dropped by Coops’ garage on the way back from the tip. He mentioned that they still got their milk delivery this morning. V strange. So I called the Peterborough head office to find out that Coops’ postcode (LN4 as opposed to our LN2) was supplied from the Grantham depot which didn’t deliver as far as us. Ah well.

At this point I need to do a bit of wrapping up on the milk delivery front. Firstly some stats. I started logging the milk delivery times on the eighth of January this year. Don’t ask me why. It’s the engineer in me. I didn’t really know what I was going to do with the data. It is an historical tidbit that may be of interest to people in centuries to come but probably not. At least it is a snapshot of life in the year twenty twenty four.

Our milk was delivered three times a week: Monday, Wednesday and Friday. The average delivery time on Mondays was 04:29, Wednesdays 03:49 and Fridays 03:53. Overall the average delivery time was 04:03. His earliest delivery date was 02:54 on the fifteenth of March and the latest was 05:37 on the fifth of August.

There was only one occasion, the twenty sixth of June, where the person delivering was not our normal guy. This may have been because of illness or he might have been on holiday. Who knows? You might consider that only one day’s holiday is not very much but we have had quite a few gaps where our delivery was cancelled due to our own holidays so milkie might have taken that opportunity to go away himself. Only once did I record him using a torch but he may also have used one on other occasions.

We never found the name of our milkman and probably now never will. It certainly isn’t worth putting in any detective work here. It is best that he remains the “Unknown Milkman”. One day, when he is called to the great  dairy in the sky his gravestone could well simply read “Milkman”. Or “Here lies the milkman, the safeguard of the nation’s breakfast”.

He joins other milkmen in our collected psyche. Ernie springs to mind. He of the fastest milk cart in the west fame. There’s also the old Norman Wisdom classic The Early Bird. Actually those are the only ones I can think of. If under a certain age you may need to google them. Feel free to chip in with more suggestions.

Part of me thinks we have a duty of care to our milkman. How is he now going to earn a living, put bread, milk, cream, eggs and orange juice on the table. Had we ordered more items off him would that have kept the milk float afloat? I don’t feel guilty here. The milk was around a pound a pint.

It doesn’t feel as if we have an alternative supplier, other than supermarkets. Adie suggested McQueens but they are in Mansfield. Too far man, too far. Newark was far enough.

I do like the idea of the occasional trip to Home Farm Dairy, twelve miles north on the A15. They sell raw milk direct from the farm. Unpasteurised I presume. I like the idea but it would very much only be the occasional jaunt. They don’t deliver. We live too far from @Chris otherwise she might have sold us some milk direct from her own farm.

Not much else to say. This isn’t a subject upon which we should dwell. Need to move on. At this stage if anyone would like to share their thoughts, memories perhaps, on our milkman or any other who may play a part in their own lives wherever they are please feel free to do so.

I will finish by wishing our former milkman well. Let us hope that he finds gainful employment that will fully utilise his undoubted and well proven skillset. Goodbye and good luck 🙂

Dunno about you but I woke up with gummed up eyes. Yesterday they started to get bit sore, at separate times, and I made the sitch worse by rubbing them. Eye drops may have made a difference. Not sure. Today they are not sore. Just a bit gummed up. The everyday story of life in Lincoln in the twenty first century.

Gonna have a relaxing morning with a spot of brunch as opposed to breakfast. Well a lateish breakfast anyway. Funeral this afternoon so I need a shave and decide what to wear. Not had a steer for this one. Black isn’t me really. Slooking like a nice day for it.

Since homeworking became the norm, over ten years ago now, I don’t shave every day. This is partly because if I go swimming I shower at the pool and don’t shave. Shaves then are reserved for when I shower at home. The decision on whether to shave or not is no longer based on needing to be clean shaven for work. Who cares anyway? 

I’m not a beard type. Grew one during lockdown but didn’t get on with it. Same with long hair. Tried the pony tail and decided it was not for me 🙂Now that I mention it I must get a haircut. Not today though.

I was planning on going to the gym but am not now so this morning I will pick more apples. This time using the ten foot ladder as I’ve already snaffled the lower down ones. Still going to have lots rotting on the floor but a) we don’t have enough storage boxes and b) this is our first year making cider so probably better not make too large a batch. I’m not normally a cider drinker.

Also at some stage I need to pop down to Fosters to buy a joint of pork for Sunday. Our Joe is visiting so decided to do a roast. Apple sauce and gravy. Hopefully lots of good crackling though I am not a master of that art.

The season of mists and mellow fruitfulness is in full sway. A great time of year. Historically a time to grow fat in readiness for the long, lean winter months ahead. In twenty twenty four this does not apply as one recognises the need to shed a few pounds and can normally rely on Waitrose for a continued supply of staples such as sourdough, kumquats, posh olive oil and balsamic vinegar (etc). Not sure they do kumquats actually. Just threw that in the trolley for effect.

The opting not to grow fat bit is partly due to the recognition that the weight needs shifting in the opposite direction but also down to the fact that next year we have a big family wedding to prepare for and it would seem the right thing to do. I have not yet been informed of the dress code but it will quite likely involve the wearing of a suit, a garment that I do not currently possess. In fact it is quite likely twenty five years since I last wore a suit. Omg wth. We shall see. Exciting nonetheless. I like a good wedding and this should be as good as it gets.

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STOP PRESS – End of an era. The milkman has delivered his last pint to the Davieses on Wragby Road. He was a no show on both Monday and Wednesday so I called their head office in Peterborough today only to be told the Newak mob had gone udders up.

I need time to digest this as it affects my daily posting. I’m off to a funeral this pm but will give it some thought over the next day or two with a view to a final post on the subject. Eulogy to a milkman.

A very simple breakfast of three rashers of smoked streaky bacon, a couple of the eggs wot I bought in Zummerzet and three small tomaytoes fresh du jardin. An American take on the start to the day. Should really have had cawfee not tea.

The bacon was cooked to a crisp and was thicker than the stuff they serve up in the States, in my experience. No doubt some of my American friends will now say they buy hand carved bacon from the artisan shop on the farm in their community. Either that or oatmeal with hand milked soya topped with chia seeds. Stuff like that. Free range organic natch, obvs.  Bring back the pancake stack with maple syrup, fruit and a side of bacon. And the fifty inch waist 😀.

Having breakfasted I’ve moved into the conservatory for an enlightening thirty minutes of repose, contemplation and more tea. Promised myself a bit of a bike ride later but I do note that light rain is forecast from around mid morning. See how it goze. I have lane swimming booked for three o’clock.

Today is a Wednesday. As such I should be reporting the milkman arrival time but for the second time on the trot he was a no show. We haven’t been able to get through to the dairy – East Anglia Dairies in Newark. They have no website and a phone that either immediately rings off or, as was the case this morning at ten past seven, an answering machine telling me they don’t open until seven tomorrow morning. Bullshit.

Maybe disaster has befallen the business. Their one remaining milkman (ie ours) has left to join a rival or retired even. Doesn’t seem old enough to retire looking at the CCTV footage. Maybe it’s even worse news. No I don’t really like to think worst case scenarios here. H
Let’s stay positive.

If the rain holds off I may cut the grass this morning. Vast swathes of the lawn needs no trim  as it has been ravaged by chafer bugs. Either them or leatherjackets. Swines.

Six o’clock in the morning and I am out of bed. Six hours thirty eight minutes kip at a Fitbit score of eighty one though I’m not really sure what that means. The higher the number out of a hundred the better.

I am now down on the sofa in the bay window of the snug. This is only because there is a handy blanket there that covers my legs. It isn’t as warm as it has been. Summer is over. Amen.

There are still a couple of weeks left in the cricket season, the closing of which will mark the point at which it is acceptable for the football and rugby seasons to officially start. I see that the football authorities have prematurely jumped the gun on that one. They do it every year with the season seemingly elongating as time goes by. Won’t be long before the start of the new season overlaps with the end of the old.

At least the rugby season is not yet underway. May see if anyone wants to go and watch Leicester again this year. We had a good day out there earlier in twenty twenty four, Tom and I. Premium seats on the half way line. The only problem is I have now set the precedent of paying for corporate hospitality and it is difficult to go back. Ah well.

Three months and two days until the trefbash to end all trefbashes. Gosh.

Been making a bit of progress with catching up posting to philosopherontap. Snatch a bit of time here and there to stick up a couple of posts. Still ten weeks or so to go. Soon be done and the reader will be fully up to speed.

Now that summer is over we have decided to have roast pork for Sunday dinner. Yum. Our Joe is home for the weekend. Seems like the right thing to do. We like it when a kid comes home to visit especially if they come alone. We get to have more quality time with just the one of them.

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Sat in the snug with the tv on mute listening to some YouTube content. England v Finland is showing but It isn’t worth having the sound on. The game looks pretty static and stiff. Twill be boring.

Moved in from the shed. Ordinarily I try to be in the house of an evening keeping company with THG but tonight she has gone to the gym as they cancelled a couple of her usual morning classes. Coming in to the house keeps me away from the temptation of the beer in the fridge.

The curtains are closed, I am wearing jeans, a jumper and a fleece. Tis no longer warm.

The rain mostly kept off whilst THG did the 5k. Anfield to Anfield ending up in the stadium for photos. I met her at the finishing line but only managed a quick congratulatory kiss before momentum took her on and inside the ground with the other “fun” runners. The rain then began in earnest and I retreated underneath the canopy outside the Liverpool FC shop to wait.

We had risen earlier than usual on a Sunday (or any other day for that matter) and THG went down for breakfast before me. Uber got us to the ground forty five minutes before the start but the other twelve hundred runners all had the same idea and the queue to pick up tshirt and runner number was mahoosive. Went down quickly enough though and then she was off.

Now back in the hotel room with a nice cup of tea looking down over the park at Liverpool One. Whereas yesterday it was full of people this morning there is only an occasional walker to be seen. Pretty soon the pubs will start filling up – indoor activity on a wet day in September.

We have slightly rejigged our plans. Some relaxation time before nipping to the John Lewis caff. Then this evening we are “hitting” Lark Lane, the street of a thousand restaurants or so I’m told.

Set off for the Burton Club this morning at seven fifteen, maybe a minute or two later. Delivering a volunteer to help set up for the Macmillan Coffee Morning that starts at eight. Only a few people and cars around. Early starters, somewalking purposefully to work and the occasional kid headed for the school bus. We remember the days.

The drive along Burton Road past the roundabout is pleasantly leafy and in Burton itself only a couple of dog walkers were to be seen. They had stopped to chat. Probs excited about the Macmillan shindig at the club later on.

On the way home decided to get meself a bacon roll from the van outside Wickes and spilled a small of brown sauce or similar down my newly put on tshirt. Sigh. I’m such a messy eater. On the way back home from Wickes the traffic was noticeably busier with streams of cars headed towards the hospital and other places of employment, gainful or otherwise.

Now sat in the conservatoire waiting for the tea to brew. Busy day ahead. First of all I need to finish cleaning and prepping the deck in front of the shed prior to the application of two coats of preservative, four hours apart. Not been done for years and well overdue. In between this there is the gym session at ten thirty, a shopping trip to buy soft bread rolls and orange and marmalade ham for tomorrow’s expedition to Liverpool, marinating the chicken thighs for tonight’s barbecue and finally the picking up of the volunteer from the Macmillan coffee morning, whenever I get the call. May they have raised lots of dosh. Hopefully there will also be time for a lane swimming session between three and four. See how the jobs go. The boys are meeting in the Strugglers for early doors. Might drive round there and be a good boy before lighting up the grill.

So plenty to do on what looks to be a nice warm sunny day. Looks as if I might also need to cut the grass which has been slow growing over the last few weeks with not a lot of rain about. Outside the birds are chirping away happily. Yesterday we had a pair of long tailed tits calling to each other across the hedges. Not recorded that species before.

The mail this morning brought the news of a new Chief Scout, Dwayne Fields. Ole Bear Grylls did the job for fifteen years, fair play, and has decided to pass on the baton. I have a long service certificate signed by Bear that sits proudly on the dresser in the kitchen.
We are off to Liverpool to take part in the Run to Anfield. I am the support team. If anyone is interested in sponsoring THG let me know and I’ll send a link. https://www.liverpoolfc.com/news/lfc-foundation-launches-first-run-anfield-5k

Conveniently the wireless, which was on a 90 minute timer, switched itself off just as Thought For The Day came on.

Rained overnight here but looks set to be dry for the day which is good cos I’m playing golf later. This morning it is Stretch and Flex with Clare. S&F is much nicer than Body Balance which is seriously tough if you aren’t any good at yoga or pilates or Body Pump. The latter ain’t as bad as it sounds but they increased the length of the class from 45 mins to an hour which is too long in my book.

The one thing I didn’t like about S&F is the fact that because there is no clock in the studio you couldn’t tell how much longer there was to do. However now that I am a Fitbit user this problem has been solved.

In other news I have just been pushed an advert for a potato peeling machine, by the Guardian of all places. I clicked on it. A bargain at the discounted price of £1,679.98. Dang it I already have a potato peeler. One of those hand held metal jobs with a long slot that you scrape the spud with. That might also have been discounted. Probably £2.50. 

Worradilemma. No way am I going to buy a new one when I have a perfectly good one that I would effectively be making redundant and therefore wasting £2.50. Plenty of life left in it as well. The mechanical job has no reviews yet either. I don’t often buy things online without their having good reviews.

The wind is on the rise outside. This perhaps means that I’ll be in long trousers for the golf but S&F will definitely be shorts. I googled “is there a storm brewing” and it came up with The Storm Brewing Company in Macclesfield. Not quite what I was after though I’m sure it is very good, probs.

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As I get ready for golf I would appear to be v stiff pursuant to this morning’s stretch and flex class. Surely that is counterintuitive Tref, do I hear you say? Well it does sound like that innit. No pain no gain etc. Nothing that a stiff gin and tonic (pun intended) wouldn’t sort out, were it not for the fact that we haven’t got any gin in and I’m off to play golf.

Golf these days starts with a very civilised cup of tea before we tee off. Well they use UHT milk so not that civilised but it matters not. Doubt there will be many out tonight. It is cold and windy and I am not only wearing long trousers but my windcheater lined golfing jumper underneath a fleece. Worra wuss. At least it ain’t raining which would mean postponement or cancellation. The boys are very much fairweather golfers these days.

When I were a lad we would play in all weathers, course closure being the only thing that would stop us. Nutters, me and me dad 🙂 Well dad was. I’d just reluctantly go along but go along I would do.

I did invest in a new set of golfing waterproofs a year or three ago but I seem to have lost the jacket. WIll be around somewhere. I’ll need to find it before our boys golfing trip to Hexam in November. Can’t envisage anything other than horizontal driving rain up there at that time of year. Terrible when you are a wearer of spectacles. Hopefully the golf club has a snooker table 🙂

Off to the gym this morning, as opposed to the pool which I might do this afternoon. Worralife. In an ideal world I’d do the gym first then straight into the pool but the timetabling doesn’t work for that. Meeting a pal at the gym but swimming is a solitary activity. Annoys the heck out of me when two people clog up a lane chatting to each other instead of focussing on ploughing up and down.

Should also make some more progress with apple picking and perhaps the ivy behind the potting shed. Will need to get the ten foot step ladder to continue progress with the apples. Also need more crates for storage even though we only want to keep the majority of  them until the cider making session in October.

THG and I agreed the bare bones of a plan yesterday. We are going to move the water butt that is blocking access to the back of the potting shed. Just around the corner to the “lawn side”. Will get Phil to move the drainpipe when he comes to sort out the roofing felt.

There is more. The patch of lawn in front of the kitchen, next to the patio is going to become the kitchen garden. Gets the most sun out of anywhere in the garden so we are expecting lots of veg in the future.

Also I will clear some space around the outside of the granite worktop of the barbecue to put a couple of bar stools. There will also be a bar stool in front of the bbq itself for when I am there doing blokey stuff. This arrangement will be perfect for mates wanting to keep the pitmaster company during grilling sessions. Ideally would identify some all year round outdoors bar stools but will probs have to settle for ones I take inside when not in use. Unless anyone can point me in the right direction.

Not written half these jobs down yet. If not written down they are far less likely to be done.

The conservatory doors are open. There is very much a freshness to the morning. Gearing up for autumn. Yesterday I noticed one or two trees around the pool car park starting to change colour. Feels ok. We can’t have summer all year round. Life is good whatever the season.

At 3:07 this morning two cats wandered into the front drive. They looked very similar although the picture was greyscale so that could be misleading. I thought at first they might be foxes but on closer examination decided they were feline.

The milkman came at 04:12. Gonna cancel Friday’s delivery as we already have a few pints in the fridge.

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Out and about I saw a yoof on a scooter. Thought to meself you see these electric scooters everywhere these days. Then I realised the lad occasionally put his left foot on the floor. Blow me down it was an old fashioned leg powered scooter. Don’t see many of them around. Really not sure how many scooters I see anyway. Certainly not in Lincoln. More a big city thing perhaps. Could be wrong. It isn’t particularly important.

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35 mins swim this aft. Only three of us in my lane dwindling over twenty minutes to just me for the last fifteen. By the time the bell went I was the only one in the pool. Next week we will be back to a reduced afternoon lane swimming timetable as the schools are back and they seem to want to prioritise teaching kids to swim over my wants and desires 🙂I might squeeze in the occasional early swim. When I say early if you get in the pool by say eight fifteen it does start to empty out as the proletariat heads off to the treadmills.

Just looked up and it is ten to eight. This is good. I have finished breakfast and am now sat in the conservatory enjoying the morning. Sbeen raining. Might even be a bit of a mild drizzle out there now. It was always raining on Wragby Road, except when it was fine. THG has just brought in a pot of tea fair play to her.

I like the rain. Do need a dryish week though as I have a few outdoor jobs to do. Tie down a bit more grapevine, clear the ivy from the back of the potting shed and pick apples. The ivy is a bigger job than it might sound as I will need to empty a water butt to get at it. The everyday life of Tref in the twenty first century. Twenty first century man.

Despite the rain it is still shorts weather. Longs will have to be worn for the apple picking as this involves getting across some brambles near to our fence to the allotments. One apple tree has a fair few fruit hanging down into the allotments. Will need to get a step ladder out there.

We have three step ladders. Short medium and long if you like. The long ladder is a ten footer that I will probs get out for this activity. Funny how you accumulate things over a lifetime. Nowadays whenever I go to B&Q for something I always peruse the tools section but there is rarely a tool there that I either don’t already have or can think of a reason for buying.

My tools are in need of a good sort out mind you. An indoor job for the long winter months. I must have about fifty million screwdrivers that could do with rationalisation. Ok a slight exaggeration but you know what I mean. I have a red box where all screwdrivers are chucked. Whenever I need one I have to root around in the box until I find the right one. Screaming out for a system 🙂

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Back from a spot of lane swimming. Invigorated ish. Have hung the cozzies and towels on the line and now sipping a cuppa in the shed. Sun has come out.

Whilst THG and I were sitting in the lobby area of Yarborough leisure centre an Americun friend passed by wearing a Kamala hat and stopped to chat. When we complimented the hat some woman sat in a group of overweight pensioners at the next table jeered and shouted vote Trump. I’m not going to comment other than to say our friend is a highly intelligent retired foreign correspondent for Reuters whilst the overweight Trump supporter looked as if all she had to do was change her accent to fit perfectly into that demographic.

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Cup of tea on the deck. Made a fast 800 one egg omelette for lunch using one of the eggs we bought from a farm in Zummerzet. Oo arr. I think it was a step up from shop bought, older eggs but tbh it needs to be poached or fried to really tell the difference. Might make spinach mushrooms and egg for breakfast tomorrow.

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That time after lunch where your food is still settling and you are sat on the deck simply being outside. Looking up I see the sycamore tree is heavy with brown seeds all waiting to be dropped on our lawn for next spring’s invasion. Never noticed them before. 

You have to take time to notice the world in which we live. Life will have passed and the opportunity wasted.

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Strike a light luvaduck just downed tools. Sbeen an active afternoon with a bit of ivy clearing and a lot of apple picking. Two trugfulls of eaters, mostly in perfect nick. I didn’t see the point in picking the imperfect ones at this time as I may struggle with storage for the ones I’ve already picked. Waiting until the end of October for the zoider pressing. Still loads left on the trees. One of them is fairly difficult to get at as the logpile is underneath it. The other is fine.

I downed tools after two hours or so and was pleasantly surprised to find a cold diet coke at the back of the fridge in the shed. Hidden behind a can of pale ale it was. Much as I like pale ale I’m off it for the mo. Full of carbs. Been debating restocking the fridge with more diet coke but that stuff is crap really. I guess if it keeps me off the pale ale that is good. Pale ale is obviously jam packed full of nutrients as well as the carbs but that’s not enough of a reason for me to drink the stuff 🙂

Mahoosive breakfast at the Old Stocks Inn. V good quality. A step up from the Hollies in Martock. Letting the food go down now before taking a morning stroll around the market square, refuelling the Silver Bullet and setting the navigation computer coordinates for home.

Our room in the hotel faces directly onto the square with the old stocks themselves just to out right. When we arrived yesterday the square was rammed but it had emptied by five or so leaving a pleasant open space devoid of day trippers, Sunday drivers yeah.

Yesterday afternoon @Terry and I meandered around the square visiting a few ancient waterholes before meeting THG in the hotel bar for pre dinner cocktails. We had finished food by around eight thirty and retreated to our room. Sbeen a hectic three days. 

Hoping the traffic has died down for the journey home. The M5 yesterday was a bit tedious, frequently grinding to a halt due to the weight of traffic. THG is taking the reins today for the last leg of our trip. We are glad we broke the journey in Stow on The Wold. As you will know had we made the trip back in Roman times it would have taken two weeks not two days. Each way.

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Got home at 1pm. Had figured I’d do some apple picking this aft but it was a knackering weekend so am just chillin with some sounds. Quiet night tonight. University Challenge. Maybs a soak in the bath.

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Sat on a sofa in the TV room under one of THG’s quilts. She is listening to the Archers. Not my thang. Tonight is going to be very much a quiet one. A bath followed by a bit of University Challenge. The good things in life.

Can’t remember when I last had a bath. It ain’t a summery thing to do. A sign of the changing of the seasons. Although we like the summer the autumn does bring with it some nice things. Sunday roasts for example. Maybe a nice pork loin with crackling, a rich cider influenced gravy, bit of mustard and some veg. Roasties done in duck fat. Or lard seeing as it’s pork.

Ya don’t see lard being used much nowadays. Really if you are doing sausages and bacon lard is the right fat to cook em in. Also fried bread. Me mam used to use it. I asked for fried bread for breakfast at the hotel on Sunday morning. The waitress returned asking whether the fried bread was instead of toast or as well as. Doh. Then she only brought one slice of toast made with crappy cheapo sliced bread.

In contrast the hotel in Stow this morning provided two good quality pieces of toast. I didn’t ask for fried bread. Struggled to finish the cooked breakfast. This might well have been partly down to the fact that I’d previously consumed a croissant and a pain au choc and a bowl of high quality fruit and yo’gurt. Plus some milk and OJ, and tea. Not all in the same glass obvs.

That’s all finished now. Back on granola for the rest of the week. THG makes good granola fair play.