Friday, January 30, 2009
Waiting for the Weasel
How anyone can look forward to spending hours wandering around (hanging out I believe the young call it) down town Buxton on a cold January Friday evening beats me. Which is why Mrs BW and I suspect that the Weasel (16 and "OMG you're so lucky to have me I don't do nuffink wrong")probably doesn't. She has the remarkable knack of breezing in at 11.02 pm (always just a little late, "but I had to wait so that I could walk back with Kate and you wouldn't want me to walk back alone would you?") And even when the Atlantic has done its worst and it has been hosing it down all evening, in she will come, dry, but adamant that she has walked back in the rain. We don't know where she goes and of course its better not to know, so we don't ask. Anyway here I am on a Friday evening, with the Munch watching some violence on the tele, Mrs BW out and about in Glossop,enjoying herself, while I wait for the Weasel. Its just me and Moonshine (the hamster) and the wireless. Thank God for Radio 7, as I believe we must now call it. High Table Lower Orders since you asked.
Time for an MOT?
A couple of months ago I received an invitation from our Medical Centre to pop in with a sample of urine (mine I presume) and a couple of jars of blood, one to be taken after fastening for twelve hours! Apparently as I was about to turn 50 they wanted to check out a few things. Of course being a man I have not been yet. Mrs BW asks me every day when I will be making the appointment, and I reply unconvincingly that I'll probably do it soon. She gives me the look that says - no you won't. Stop telling me lies. I can see I am going to have to do this for you -
Of course I know I ought to go,and having to fast for twelve hours isn't such a hardship. But I suppose I can't face the facts. I am overweight, but quite fit, well not a total slob, I drink too much, eat the wrong things, can't sleep, worry, and suffer pains in most of the major limb joints. I know what they will say. Cut down the booze, cut out the dripping and salt, take proper exercise, like running on a treadmill rather than puffing round a muddy field after a bag of wind, occasionally getting flattened by some large lump when you accidentally come into contact with the ball. They will try and make me come back to be checked out and they will tut tut and suggest that I am not taking this seriously, when the scales stubbornly refuse to show progress.
Of course they are right. I ought to go, I am after all at "that age".
I'll do it next week.!
Right time for a bottle of wine and a bag of crisps. I wonder if there are still chocolate biscuits left in the tin.
Of course I know I ought to go,and having to fast for twelve hours isn't such a hardship. But I suppose I can't face the facts. I am overweight, but quite fit, well not a total slob, I drink too much, eat the wrong things, can't sleep, worry, and suffer pains in most of the major limb joints. I know what they will say. Cut down the booze, cut out the dripping and salt, take proper exercise, like running on a treadmill rather than puffing round a muddy field after a bag of wind, occasionally getting flattened by some large lump when you accidentally come into contact with the ball. They will try and make me come back to be checked out and they will tut tut and suggest that I am not taking this seriously, when the scales stubbornly refuse to show progress.
Of course they are right. I ought to go, I am after all at "that age".
I'll do it next week.!
Right time for a bottle of wine and a bag of crisps. I wonder if there are still chocolate biscuits left in the tin.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Welcome to the World of Hypocrisy
Spend the day at the races drinking champagne, or what ever it is that you drink when you go to watch the horses, get into your car and head up to town for a spot of commentating, get pulled over by the boys in blue and found to be over the drink drive limit and okay you get a ban and a slapped wrist but hey no worries you're still able to take your place in the England Rugby elite squad ahead of the six nations. And of course play for your club. After all you were probably a bit unlucky to get caught and although drink driving is not acceptable, alcohol still is, indeed its consumption in often industrial quantities is part of the social scene at clubs of all levels. After all the premier cup competition for European clubs is sponsored by Heineken.(I suppose the Medellin Cup or the Norte de Valle cup would not have quite the same ring about it.)
Test positive for a "recreational drug" not a performance enhancing drug and your world falls in about you. You become a pariah, you have "let your club down", you have to front up to the international media and lay bare your soul. And there is the small matter of a ban, likely to be a minimum of two years, not just from playing but from training, from coaching indeed having almost no contact with the sport that you love and excel in. So as well as having to deal with the "illness" of drug addiction, your career is torn away, removing the one thing that might help you to focus to over come the bloody thing.
Somehow it all seems a little bit hypocritical to me. No doubt there are clever arguments as to why one method of poisoning yourself is worse than the other, why one is social acceptable and the other not.
So for what its worth I wish Matt Stevens of Bath and England all the best. He has shown great courage so far and I guess he will need a lot more before he gets his life back on track and hopefully puts on the blue,black and white of Bath Rugby again. I know its a cliche but Rugby is a family so lets hope that Bath Rugby and the RFU don't cast aside one of their own for one stupid mistake.
Test positive for a "recreational drug" not a performance enhancing drug and your world falls in about you. You become a pariah, you have "let your club down", you have to front up to the international media and lay bare your soul. And there is the small matter of a ban, likely to be a minimum of two years, not just from playing but from training, from coaching indeed having almost no contact with the sport that you love and excel in. So as well as having to deal with the "illness" of drug addiction, your career is torn away, removing the one thing that might help you to focus to over come the bloody thing.
Somehow it all seems a little bit hypocritical to me. No doubt there are clever arguments as to why one method of poisoning yourself is worse than the other, why one is social acceptable and the other not.
So for what its worth I wish Matt Stevens of Bath and England all the best. He has shown great courage so far and I guess he will need a lot more before he gets his life back on track and hopefully puts on the blue,black and white of Bath Rugby again. I know its a cliche but Rugby is a family so lets hope that Bath Rugby and the RFU don't cast aside one of their own for one stupid mistake.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
A chilly and snowy trip down memory lane
The cold weather we have been having recently started me thinking about previous cold spells. One memory that I am particularly fond of was from the cold snap of February 1991.
It was a Thursday and because it was a Thursday it was almost Friday and I had that demob happy feeling about me, the weekend was just around the corner,two days when I could breathe free from the shackles of work. Heading towards the car park one of the senior managers hailed me. “Well I hope you've stocked up well with tins and candles” My quizzical expression forced him to elaborate. “Don't you listen to the forecast. Its going to snow heavily tonight, I doubt you will make it into work tomorrow!” I hadn't listened to it and so heeding his advice stopped off at the supermarket and stocked up. A bottle of scotch a couple of bottles of wine, and some bread and cheese, I seem to recall.
It did snow. Very heavily and Buxton was duly cut off for a few hours, and I could not make it to work on the Friday,but the power remained on at all times and we even enjoyed a lovely walk in deep crisp snow on the Saturday morning. By Sunday afternoon it was thawing a little and a concerted effort from all the folks in the close cleared the drifts from the entrance so that we could all get to work on Monday.
So it was in a light hearted and happy mood that I set off for work, taking in the spectacular drifts on the A515 as I did so.
I had been at my desk for no more that fifteen minutes when the same senior manager who had kindly given me the weather warning on the Friday sought me out.
He looked tired and grey.
“Difficult weekend?” I said.
“Well what do you bloody think” he said “ No power for two days, nothing hot to eat and no tele. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that however bad it was down here then you up in Buxton would be suffering even more.”
“What do you mean suffer?” I said.
“The snow and the power cuts. You idiot”
“Oh. Well we had plenty of snow. In fact we had to dig the drive out, but we had power all the time.”
He went a greyer shade of grey. “You can't have done. We had no power in bloody Derby for Christ sake and we live in a civilized part of the country, up in the sticks you must have had cuts?”
“No. None, warm and snug all weekend”
He advanced towards me. “Its to do with the temperature you see," I explained "because it was slightly above freezing in Drby the snow would have stuck to the power lines and the weight brought them down, whereas up in the hills it was below freezing so it didn't stick....my voice trailed off.” He had gone trying to remove the door from its hinges as he swept out.
Happy memories.
It was a Thursday and because it was a Thursday it was almost Friday and I had that demob happy feeling about me, the weekend was just around the corner,two days when I could breathe free from the shackles of work. Heading towards the car park one of the senior managers hailed me. “Well I hope you've stocked up well with tins and candles” My quizzical expression forced him to elaborate. “Don't you listen to the forecast. Its going to snow heavily tonight, I doubt you will make it into work tomorrow!” I hadn't listened to it and so heeding his advice stopped off at the supermarket and stocked up. A bottle of scotch a couple of bottles of wine, and some bread and cheese, I seem to recall.
It did snow. Very heavily and Buxton was duly cut off for a few hours, and I could not make it to work on the Friday,but the power remained on at all times and we even enjoyed a lovely walk in deep crisp snow on the Saturday morning. By Sunday afternoon it was thawing a little and a concerted effort from all the folks in the close cleared the drifts from the entrance so that we could all get to work on Monday.
So it was in a light hearted and happy mood that I set off for work, taking in the spectacular drifts on the A515 as I did so.
I had been at my desk for no more that fifteen minutes when the same senior manager who had kindly given me the weather warning on the Friday sought me out.
He looked tired and grey.
“Difficult weekend?” I said.
“Well what do you bloody think” he said “ No power for two days, nothing hot to eat and no tele. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that however bad it was down here then you up in Buxton would be suffering even more.”
“What do you mean suffer?” I said.
“The snow and the power cuts. You idiot”
“Oh. Well we had plenty of snow. In fact we had to dig the drive out, but we had power all the time.”
He went a greyer shade of grey. “You can't have done. We had no power in bloody Derby for Christ sake and we live in a civilized part of the country, up in the sticks you must have had cuts?”
“No. None, warm and snug all weekend”
He advanced towards me. “Its to do with the temperature you see," I explained "because it was slightly above freezing in Drby the snow would have stuck to the power lines and the weight brought them down, whereas up in the hills it was below freezing so it didn't stick....my voice trailed off.” He had gone trying to remove the door from its hinges as he swept out.
Happy memories.
Friday, January 02, 2009
Chilly New Years Day in the Goyt
By way of shaking off the New Year hangover / blues Mrs BW and I left the teenagers sleeping and nipped into the Goyt for a bracing walk. It was chilly and the red grouse, normally further up the hillside were close to the road, even on the side of the road. We forget that what might look pretty to us makes the daily struggle to survive even harder for the birds and other animals that live here.
We were pleased to see the owls out hunting. We have not spotted them for a few weeks. They are such magnificent birds. So quiet and graceful, they use the minimum of effort to hunt following the contours of the hillside catching and working with every breath of wind.
Down in the valley the temperature was a fraction higher and the smaller birds were busy collecting what they could. On the upper reservoir the various ducks littered the surface and a shag dived for fish before noisily flying off in an confusion of water and noise. Far off we heard the harsh cry of a raven and as we crunched our way back up the hill he flew over the frozen pond.
We drove home for tea and toast and the warmth of our centrally heated house, glad that we could and did not have to live out in the wild.
We were pleased to see the owls out hunting. We have not spotted them for a few weeks. They are such magnificent birds. So quiet and graceful, they use the minimum of effort to hunt following the contours of the hillside catching and working with every breath of wind.
Down in the valley the temperature was a fraction higher and the smaller birds were busy collecting what they could. On the upper reservoir the various ducks littered the surface and a shag dived for fish before noisily flying off in an confusion of water and noise. Far off we heard the harsh cry of a raven and as we crunched our way back up the hill he flew over the frozen pond.
We drove home for tea and toast and the warmth of our centrally heated house, glad that we could and did not have to live out in the wild.
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