22nd January 2012

It’s been a full three weeks since I last put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard). A dangerous delay, the longer I leave it, the more my memory becomes like Swiss cheese: full of holes. Still, here’s what has managed to cling on.

Sue managed to work a day at Church Langton during the week in question, coincidentally, the same day we had a council walk. Roger, who had arrived the day before to beg for help with online travel bookings, volunteered to tag along and took Sue’s place. The walk meandered around Foxton Village, a gentle amble on a warm day with several new faces. Being nosey by nature, I set about finding out all about them.

I had skipped breakfast thanks to Roger’s promise of lunch, only to watch in mounting despair as he consumed a banana, crisps, a Wagon Wheel, and a Cornish pasty during the walk. It’s amazing how the sound of someone else unwrapping a pasty can echo through the countryside. The promised lunch did not happen.

Jamie’s contract at Disney Euro ended on 6th January, and he threw himself into job-hunting despite the grim economic climate. With my help in polishing cover letters, he sent out a flurry of applications, received several replies, and even landed a few offers. One in Enderby was politely declined on account of travel costs, but he accepted a position in Northampton starting on the 6th of February.

The Navy also invited him to interview, date to be confirmed, but with defence cuts looming, he wisely kept sending out CVs. Meanwhile, the confirmed Northampton job took the pressure off. He spent a good deal of time at Willow Bank making use of the computer and enjoying home-cooked meals. To save on petrol, he often walked, a sign of both thrift and fitness.

In between applications, we sneaked in a few rounds of golf at Corby, using Suraj’s clubs (they’re both left-handed). I was keen to get more rounds in before the job started. I also swapped his lounge lights for spotlights, though my remark about them using more electricity wasn’t met with overwhelming joy.

Sarah, back in Sheffield, was ploughing through assignments with impressive results. She received good feedback on her pre-Christmas submissions, and while her academic terms made my head spin, she patiently explained them to me, and I promptly forgot them again.

On 15th January, Jamie and I went to London for a research study at the London College of Psychiatry. He’s been part of this study for three years, with previous sessions closer to home. This time, they needed an ECG, hence the trip south. While Jamie was occupied, I enjoyed coffee, sandwiches, and the Observer. The study, now in its final year, netted him an extra £50 for completing certain tasks. We also visited Buckingham Palace, but Her Majesty was “busy”. Doubtless, rearranging her stamp collection.

The allotments have been largely ignored, bar the harvesting of parsnips, leeks, and artichokes. While others have heroically completed their winter digging, I’ve managed only to receive my seed potatoes, four unfamiliar heirloom varieties currently sprouting in the shed.

On 16th January, Sue and I headed to Blackpool for a night at the De Vere Hotel, planning to see the sights before visiting Uncle Stan in Manchester on the way home. Doreen, our neighbour, had kindly given us four bags of Peter’s clothes to deliver for Stan’s use.

Two days of clear skies but Baltic winds followed. We braved the promenade, visited the South Pier, and took in the view from the Tower. A 4D film about the Tower at the cinema threw in a water spray, which was possibly unnecessary in January. After a splendid hotel dinner, we watched War Horse at the Odeon, a film I wholeheartedly recommend, despite my usual dislike of the word “nice.”

The next morning, we swung by Lytham St. Annes, took a bracing walk on the beach, then visited Uncle Stan before heading home via the M5 toll road to dodge Birmingham traffic. We returned to a house so cold we went straight to fill the hot-water bottles.

The Rothwells have been visiting frequently these past three weeks, drawn in by curry and other enticements. While the details of our various gatherings blur, I do remember dismantling their bed for firewood and making new slats for Lucas’s.

Ellis endured a nasty chest cough, which inevitably migrated to Sue and me, a reminder of the joys of school-borne germs. Charlotte, Lucas, and Ellis came to stay overnight on Saturday. But, as Suraj’s planned poker night had been cancelled, he arrived at Willow Bank in time for Sunday lunch.

Sue and I joined another council walk that Saturday morning. There was another large turnout, but unfortunately, we started in torrential rain. After an hour, the skies cleared, leaving only mud and hills to navigate. It was, unexpectedly, the best council walk I’ve done, capped off with a two-course meal and a pint at The Bell.