21st March 2011

After the dreary winter months, it’s been a joy to see the sun again, and even better now that it’s begun to give off something resembling warmth rather than a cold glare. Lulu, the neighbour’s cat, has resumed her morning patrols. The moment the back door opens, there’s a ‘thump’ on the fence, then she darts in front of you and flops onto her back as if auditioning for a belly-rub commercial. She’s still in a full winter coat, so each scratch releases little white clouds of fluff which drift into the breeze, adding, I suspect, their small contribution to global pollution.

We also have a pheasant in residence, strutting about the garden like he owns the place. He inspects the plants, pecks at the grass, and generally behaves as if auditioning for Countryfile. Lulu, however, is less impressed with the arrangement. She’s far too sensible to take him on directly; he’s bigger than she is,  but she stalks him until, exasperated, he usually flaps off in a huff. I suspect that, on reading this, Sarah will grumble that I write more about Lulu than about her.

Midweek, I planted four rows of potatoes at the allotment, using seed potatoes I’d been chitting in the garage for the past month. By now they’d sprouted well and were starting to wrinkle like pensioners’ elbows. I also sowed broad beans and red onions, pausing frequently to chat with fellow allotment holders, who I’m convinced rent their plots mainly as an excuse for gossip. No one has offered advice yet, which must mean either I’m doing it right or I’m beyond all hope.

Thursday evening brought a meeting at the Sugar Loaf to plan the Rugby Club Beer Festival (30th April–1st May). We discussed beers, logistics, and little else, and agreed to reconvene the following week. Afterwards, Sarah and I drove to Nan’s in Thurcroft, arriving at 10:30 pm to find her still up but ready for bed.

The next morning, Sarah had an interview at Sheffield College, so we relied on Sue’s SatNav, last updated when Tony Blair was still in office, and we promptly got lost. We abandoned technology for road signs and Yorkshire nous, which worked rather better. Sarah checked in early, and I returned to Nan’s to find David there, come to collect his 500GB hard drive I’d promised to bring. I’d forgotten it in Thursday’s rush, unfortunate, as Suraj had carefully filled it with films and TV series to save David and Genya from Bulgarian TV’s charms.

We then attempted to fix Nan’s washing machine, which refused to drain. We upended it, removed various pipes, and retrieved a small hoard of coins, clips, and grit. Reassembled, it still sulked. A repairman was due the next day, who later found another rogue 5p. David headed off to give drum lessons, and Nan and I went for lunch at the village pub.

Later, I returned to Sheffield to collect Sarah and got lost again. This time, I used my phone’s SatNav, which at least had modern maps, but the one-way system still did its best to trap me. Sarah, fortunately, was cheerful; she’d enjoyed the interview and liked the course, particularly its sensible policy of saving exams for the final year. We stayed with Nan until the evening, then headed home, where I took satisfaction in averaging 47 mpg, a small victory with petrol now over £6 a gallon.

Saturday, Sue and I set off for North Wales to visit relatives, stopping at the Holly Bush in Cefn y Bedd for an excellent lunch. In Brymbo, we caught up with Aunt Josie and her son David, a carpet fitter with time on his hands. Then to Caergwrle to see Aunt Doreen before finding our De Vere hotel in Ewloe. That evening, we returned to Caergwrle for a fine Chinese meal at The Bridge.

The next morning was gloriously sunny. Over breakfast, we discussed the day’s plans, which promptly collapsed when Sue’s relatives near Chester cancelled with a stomach bug, and friends in Mold revealed they were in Paris for their 30th wedding anniversary. Plan C led us to nearby Ewloe Castle, which we explored for an hour and a half before heading home to Leicestershire.

By sheer luck, we passed Harborough Rugby Club just as the County Cup semi-final was kicking off. Sue dropped me off and carried on home. Unfortunately, Harborough led for most of the game but lost in the dying seconds. I stayed on in the club house to watch England lose to Ireland, completing my hat-trick of disappointment for the afternoon.

Sunday brought visitors from Newcastle, a couple we’d met in Shanghai during the ‘Ash Cloud’ saga. We reminisced over coffee, watched my holiday video, and swapped cruise stories before they invited us to visit them in the North East.

Jamie joined us for lunch, keen for me to check a holiday booking to Spain with Harley. I confirmed all was well, then noticed the 6 a.m. flight, which, of course, I’ll be driving them to.

I rounded off the weekend at the allotment, planting more onions, potatoes, and beans. That evening, though it wasn’t strictly needed, we lit a fire. After all, it was the Spring Solstice.