I'm coming round to Dr Oetker's idea that Human Beings were meant to run barefoot.
A slight aggravation in one knee had stopped the running for a while so I took some other literary Docs advice for leg raises with a weight tied to your foot. Mind you I had trainers on when that knee twinge happened, tch tch.
See when you run barefoot the foot naturally lands the right way, whereas if you've got a chunk of shock absorbing foam on your trainers the sole of your foot is too squishy and your ankles bend sideways, not to mention the high heels throwing your weight forward.
But then the tarmac is a bit rough for western feet, the answer is two pairs of socks and because its raining, a pair of Tesco bags with elastic bands round the ankles.
Obviously it has to be pitch dark to avoid having to make any explanation to the neighbours.
I managed a mile and the knee thing seems to be passing over.
You should try it, just land on the front part of the feet not the heels.
I'm aiming to run 5k with no socks on rough tarmac, in the dark.
29th November. I'm Not Sure If I Like The Look of That.
Another Woman whose overiding concern is "How it's going to look." rather than whether the stove is going to set fire to the curtains, blinds, window sill or skirting board.
How would it look then ? Like a burnt out house with the insurance company ultimately quibbling about the minimum distance to combustables.
That wouldn't look good at all, especially for me, I think we touched on the subject of insurance recently...
How would it look then ? Like a burnt out house with the insurance company ultimately quibbling about the minimum distance to combustables.
That wouldn't look good at all, especially for me, I think we touched on the subject of insurance recently...
28th November. Chicken Lobotomy.
That chicken has been installed in the kitchen and just sits in one place all day like a complete dork, periodically dropping it's guts. (Jeezo!)
The vet said, after he'd injected it with whatever drug, that "It would no longer be fit for human consumption on account of the medication being unlicensed for livestock, that's if you were going to eat it."
"I wasn't planning to." answered Isabelle.
Isabelle seems incapable of hardening her heart against any living thing, that is, apart from Human Beings.
The vet said, after he'd injected it with whatever drug, that "It would no longer be fit for human consumption on account of the medication being unlicensed for livestock, that's if you were going to eat it."
"I wasn't planning to." answered Isabelle.
Isabelle seems incapable of hardening her heart against any living thing, that is, apart from Human Beings.
27th November. "Our Greatest Glory Is Not In Never Falling But In Rising Every Time We Fall."
I drive back to the M's ruined fire surround.
"What was the verdict?" I enquire of Mrs M's reaction to the irreversible damage to the new fake stone.
"Well the good news is a chamfer would be fine with her but the bad news is none of the chip must show."
This is a tall order, Mr M had already had a go with this bit of diamond tool sharpener I had, it looks like it would take about a month to take enough of the stone off.
I didn't fancy letting rip with any power tools especially with Mr M hanging about in the environs.
To cut a long fiasco short a diamond cutting disc held flat and pushed with a lot of pressure worked.
I was a bit dubious about attacking the front of the stone in the same manner, I mean that really would be staring you in the face when seated on the green leather sofa.
"That's a pretty good effort, though I'll need to qualify that.."
"What was the verdict?" I enquire of Mrs M's reaction to the irreversible damage to the new fake stone.
"Well the good news is a chamfer would be fine with her but the bad news is none of the chip must show."
This is a tall order, Mr M had already had a go with this bit of diamond tool sharpener I had, it looks like it would take about a month to take enough of the stone off.
I didn't fancy letting rip with any power tools especially with Mr M hanging about in the environs.
To cut a long fiasco short a diamond cutting disc held flat and pushed with a lot of pressure worked.
I was a bit dubious about attacking the front of the stone in the same manner, I mean that really would be staring you in the face when seated on the green leather sofa.
"That's a pretty good effort, though I'll need to qualify that.."
26th November. And Then It All Goes Horribly Wrong, Again.
2pm and things are going fairly normally with Mr M's stove installation although the steel plate is large and unwieldly and the new sandstone fire surround has edges that are vulnerable to things such as unwieldly steel plate...Ooops.
Lifting the plate out for the nth time there's a dull thud as the end of it contacts the edge of the fire surround, I look back, "OH BOLLOCKS! MERDE ALORS! this hasn't happened has it?"
A very obvious chip out of the fake stone. The first instinct is to grovel around looking for the piece or pieces for gluing back in and pretending nothing happened, but the chip seems to have been crushed wholesale.
Mr M is out walking the dog, I have to make a clean breast of it on his return advising that the easiest thing would be to chamfer the edge thus taking out the missing bit... or joeying it up with Araldite and some crushed stone.
A test of the Araldite joeying idea is a failure, the repair would end up like a piece of treacle toffee stuck on the fireplace...
"If the worst comes to the worst you'll have insurance of course?"
"Errrr..."
Lifting the plate out for the nth time there's a dull thud as the end of it contacts the edge of the fire surround, I look back, "OH BOLLOCKS! MERDE ALORS! this hasn't happened has it?"
A very obvious chip out of the fake stone. The first instinct is to grovel around looking for the piece or pieces for gluing back in and pretending nothing happened, but the chip seems to have been crushed wholesale.
Mr M is out walking the dog, I have to make a clean breast of it on his return advising that the easiest thing would be to chamfer the edge thus taking out the missing bit... or joeying it up with Araldite and some crushed stone.
A test of the Araldite joeying idea is a failure, the repair would end up like a piece of treacle toffee stuck on the fireplace...
"If the worst comes to the worst you'll have insurance of course?"
"Errrr..."
25th November. Born 1915
I speak to Mother over the mobile networks whilst gazing out of the window of another half decorated flat.
"It's very grey here" she says staring, I presume, through the windscreen of my brothers Vauxhall, at the Irish Sea.
"It's a typical November day" I reply.
"We're just having some sardine sandwiches on the front"
I immediately think Acid Reflux but Mother doesn't know what heartburn is even at ninety-two.
In-credible!
"It's very grey here" she says staring, I presume, through the windscreen of my brothers Vauxhall, at the Irish Sea.
"It's a typical November day" I reply.
"We're just having some sardine sandwiches on the front"
I immediately think Acid Reflux but Mother doesn't know what heartburn is even at ninety-two.
In-credible!
24th November. Spicy Chicken Wings.
Becks beer plus red wine plus spicy chicken wings equals acid reflux.
It's alright for some people, those blessed with the digestion of the Komodo Dragon and by the way, how do they not digest their own stomach lining from the inside out? What vessel could hold such a corrosive fluid?
Perhaps I'm thinking here of Hydrofluoric Acid known for it's ability to dissolve glass, kept in teflon containers.
And then these people relax in a darkened room content with a half pint of whisky complaining that there weren't nearly enough chicken wings, I ask you?
I negotiate my way to the bunk beds rousing Isabelle long since asleep, "I hate it when you're drunk" she comments,
"Drunk?" I say, i haven't had a drink for hours, I don't think the spicy chicken wings agreed with me...
It's alright for some people, those blessed with the digestion of the Komodo Dragon and by the way, how do they not digest their own stomach lining from the inside out? What vessel could hold such a corrosive fluid?
Perhaps I'm thinking here of Hydrofluoric Acid known for it's ability to dissolve glass, kept in teflon containers.
And then these people relax in a darkened room content with a half pint of whisky complaining that there weren't nearly enough chicken wings, I ask you?
I negotiate my way to the bunk beds rousing Isabelle long since asleep, "I hate it when you're drunk" she comments,
"Drunk?" I say, i haven't had a drink for hours, I don't think the spicy chicken wings agreed with me...
23rd November. Probably The Most Pathetic Thing In The World.
A cockerel with brain damage. That was the diagnosis anyway from Mr W. the vet, who injected it with something that so far hasn't proved lethal.
Yes bullying has proved a very serious matter. Repeated pecking on the head by it's siblings has caused some sort of brain spin or a degeneration something akin to an overlong career in heavyweight boxing.
I can feel another ethical dilemma coming on for Isabelle, who always hopes for a recovery in order to avoid 'playing god'.
Mr W. was all for euthanasia, as is his bent.
For me, Himmler's pronouncement on mental patients in 1930's Germany seems apposite: 'Useless Mouths'...
Yes bullying has proved a very serious matter. Repeated pecking on the head by it's siblings has caused some sort of brain spin or a degeneration something akin to an overlong career in heavyweight boxing.
I can feel another ethical dilemma coming on for Isabelle, who always hopes for a recovery in order to avoid 'playing god'.
Mr W. was all for euthanasia, as is his bent.
For me, Himmler's pronouncement on mental patients in 1930's Germany seems apposite: 'Useless Mouths'...
21st November. "Everything About The Guy Gives Me The Dry Boke."
It may be that you only have one thing in common with a neighbouring couple, namely that their daughter also attends the local primary.
The children become friends, the rest falls into place, involvement is unavoidable
As an older parent you may already be out on a limb, shunned by the Young Mums who are all related to some degree anyway and don't need any 'new friends', now you have two things in common with the other couple.
It seems only reasonable to invite them round, to 'get to know them'...
The children become friends, the rest falls into place, involvement is unavoidable
As an older parent you may already be out on a limb, shunned by the Young Mums who are all related to some degree anyway and don't need any 'new friends', now you have two things in common with the other couple.
It seems only reasonable to invite them round, to 'get to know them'...
20th November. "I'll Be In A Motorised Wheelchair For Their Eighteenth."
DM 's view is "You can either have kids earlier on and not be able to do anything but have the option to retire early, or have them late and be forced to keep working to cover the vast expense involved."
Of course the assumption here is the desirability of creating individuals who then blame you for their own shortcomings until they repeat the cycle.
The Third way is to have kids early in life and late in life and then what?
Ans. Go straight into a Care Home. Yippee!
Of course the assumption here is the desirability of creating individuals who then blame you for their own shortcomings until they repeat the cycle.
The Third way is to have kids early in life and late in life and then what?
Ans. Go straight into a Care Home. Yippee!
19th November. Puncture.
I managed to sick up some of my fishcakes in the car park from the effort of turning the car jack with a spanner the size of a teaspoon.
Cursing the design of jacks supplied with vehicles and cursing myself for not doing something about it, the wheel finally lifted from the ground after about three-quarters of an hour of rolling around in the rain at ten o'clock at night. By then I was about as wet as when I got out of the Leisure Pool.
And about as wet as this afternoon after a day farting about on a roof ladder out at the Smirf Gulag (see previous).
It could have been worse, I was very aware that I didn't want to be the man trapped beneath his car when the over extended jack slews sideways,
I could just imagine outside lights coming on when local residents finally decided after half an hour that maybe they really should investigate what all that screaming is about...
Cursing the design of jacks supplied with vehicles and cursing myself for not doing something about it, the wheel finally lifted from the ground after about three-quarters of an hour of rolling around in the rain at ten o'clock at night. By then I was about as wet as when I got out of the Leisure Pool.
And about as wet as this afternoon after a day farting about on a roof ladder out at the Smirf Gulag (see previous).
It could have been worse, I was very aware that I didn't want to be the man trapped beneath his car when the over extended jack slews sideways,
I could just imagine outside lights coming on when local residents finally decided after half an hour that maybe they really should investigate what all that screaming is about...
18th November. Sunday Afternoon Highlight.
Recent inspection of a flat which is rather stuck on the letting market revealed an unsightly black goo where the tiles meet the bath, this may have been putting off prospective tenants. I surmised the failure of some Wickes product, possibly a chemical reaction with the previous occupier's hair care preparation, (I wonder about their scalp).
Pulling off the bath trim left the offensive sealing gunge behind which had the consistency of crude oil such as is found periodically on the beaches close to Milford Haven.
Trying to scrape this stuff off or dissolve it seemed as futile and hopeless as attempts to clean an oiled Guillemot in a vat of detergent.
Pulling off the bath trim left the offensive sealing gunge behind which had the consistency of crude oil such as is found periodically on the beaches close to Milford Haven.
Trying to scrape this stuff off or dissolve it seemed as futile and hopeless as attempts to clean an oiled Guillemot in a vat of detergent.
16th November. I Spend Another Day in The Pub.
This is one of the most luxurious jobs to date, a pot of coffee whisked through from the hotel at the request of the barman before I've even done anything, central heating full on, a choice of menu for lunch and no money need ever change hands.
At one time when a man married, (although it could easily be one of those urban myths), the wife would ask "what would you like for your tea tonight."
At one time when a man married, (although it could easily be one of those urban myths), the wife would ask "what would you like for your tea tonight."
15th November. I Spend An Entire Day in The Pub.
The provision of disabled access to the Royal Bar will not require any official enforcement.
The daytime clientele seems almost wholly comprised of people on crutches temporarily and permanently or in wheelchairs motorised and non-motorised.
Customers can choose between Sky Sports 1 and Sky Sports 2 depending on which end of the bar one perambulates to, or watching the woodburning stove man and making comments - "Is the chimney no' big enough for Santa.." etc etc
Lunch time brings in a wave of the semi able-bodied, probably travelling salesman and the like who still spend the better part of their lives in a seated position.
The atmosphere is smoke free, women free and convivial.
The daytime clientele seems almost wholly comprised of people on crutches temporarily and permanently or in wheelchairs motorised and non-motorised.
Customers can choose between Sky Sports 1 and Sky Sports 2 depending on which end of the bar one perambulates to, or watching the woodburning stove man and making comments - "Is the chimney no' big enough for Santa.." etc etc
Lunch time brings in a wave of the semi able-bodied, probably travelling salesman and the like who still spend the better part of their lives in a seated position.
The atmosphere is smoke free, women free and convivial.
14th November. Bin Laden Found!
I must admit this is a dream, in case the CIA is already onto this. If you are - Hi there, it must be a tough job, surveillance.
Isabelle's family by a strange quirk are all Saudis, we are visiting them in Saudi Arabia.
The Grandparents live in what looks like a bungalow with various aunts and uncles thrown in. The entrance hall has a door that looks like a cupboard but is actually a front room.
For some reason they have a lodger staying there who has it furnished as a bedsit. We go in to meet them.
The tenant is a fairly quiet old man who seems happy enough living in there but keeps the curtains drawn and never goes out. They bring his meals to him. I'm surprised to find out it's Bin Laden and he's aged quite a bit from the photographs in circulation.
It seems a bit weird that the authorities aren't wise to this fact, and I assume that Isabelle's Grandfather has somehow bribed the necessary officials.
It's clear that the facts surrounding the house guest are not to be shared outside of the family.
"I wonder if he ever thinks about the 4000 odd people that died?" I mention to Isabelle sometime afterwards.
A woman overhears me in a restaurant and says "Bin Laden? Where?"
"No, no, it's just a joke!" I say in a hurried attempt to cover up my blunder...
Isabelle's family by a strange quirk are all Saudis, we are visiting them in Saudi Arabia.
The Grandparents live in what looks like a bungalow with various aunts and uncles thrown in. The entrance hall has a door that looks like a cupboard but is actually a front room.
For some reason they have a lodger staying there who has it furnished as a bedsit. We go in to meet them.
The tenant is a fairly quiet old man who seems happy enough living in there but keeps the curtains drawn and never goes out. They bring his meals to him. I'm surprised to find out it's Bin Laden and he's aged quite a bit from the photographs in circulation.
It seems a bit weird that the authorities aren't wise to this fact, and I assume that Isabelle's Grandfather has somehow bribed the necessary officials.
It's clear that the facts surrounding the house guest are not to be shared outside of the family.
"I wonder if he ever thinks about the 4000 odd people that died?" I mention to Isabelle sometime afterwards.
A woman overhears me in a restaurant and says "Bin Laden? Where?"
"No, no, it's just a joke!" I say in a hurried attempt to cover up my blunder...
13th November. I Hate Electrics.
A guy phoned up last night wanting to know if I could go and look at his chimney in the dark? Then the phone went tonight at 11.05pm and some woman left a message, maybe she was calling from Long Island (-5 hrs)?
Tonight having finally found Mr P's remote house in the pitch black of rural Perthshire to view a new potential nightmare he says " I suppose going to look at another chimney after a day outside is the last thing you want to do."
Well that was quite perceptive.
It seemed even darker than normal trying to reverse the car, the trailer lights had blown the fuse and were now dead, I just had to abandon it outside his house.
"We'll be seeing you again in the very near future then" he commented.
Quite.
Tonight having finally found Mr P's remote house in the pitch black of rural Perthshire to view a new potential nightmare he says " I suppose going to look at another chimney after a day outside is the last thing you want to do."
Well that was quite perceptive.
It seemed even darker than normal trying to reverse the car, the trailer lights had blown the fuse and were now dead, I just had to abandon it outside his house.
"We'll be seeing you again in the very near future then" he commented.
Quite.
12th November. Like A Gulag.
I arrive on-site hoping for some excuse to go away again. Two small wizened Polish joiners don't respond to my acknowledgment of their existence.
In common with many building works the two economic migrants are housed in a caravan so there is no need for them to ever leave the workplace. The general impression this morning, with the low temperature and the mud, is something approaching the ambience of a Labour camp.
The Poles are similar to each other like Ant and Dec but with a touch of Smurf because of the style of hat, they may be brothers or even twins, puffing away at filter tips and knocking in nails with what look like toffee hammers.
Anyway, I just think things must be really crap in Poland...
The owner comes over and tries to get them to do something differently with a hand saw, however they don't speak a word of the Queen's, he walks away in search of Papa Smurf.
The fact is, what they do speak sounds very like English but running through a tape player backwards. I bet if you recorded some of phrases and played them the other way it would say something like 'Paul is dead.'
In common with many building works the two economic migrants are housed in a caravan so there is no need for them to ever leave the workplace. The general impression this morning, with the low temperature and the mud, is something approaching the ambience of a Labour camp.
The Poles are similar to each other like Ant and Dec but with a touch of Smurf because of the style of hat, they may be brothers or even twins, puffing away at filter tips and knocking in nails with what look like toffee hammers.
Anyway, I just think things must be really crap in Poland...
The owner comes over and tries to get them to do something differently with a hand saw, however they don't speak a word of the Queen's, he walks away in search of Papa Smurf.
The fact is, what they do speak sounds very like English but running through a tape player backwards. I bet if you recorded some of phrases and played them the other way it would say something like 'Paul is dead.'
11th November. Ethics of Veterinarism
"You'd give a gerbil a heart transplant wouldn't you?"
"Of course."
"Even though you could just get another one for three quid, they only live a couple of years anyway."
"Each Gerbil is it's own Gerbil and can't be replaced."
"Of course."
"Even though you could just get another one for three quid, they only live a couple of years anyway."
"Each Gerbil is it's own Gerbil and can't be replaced."
9th November. Cuddly Cows.
So I'm reaching into the W's fridge for the milk, mainly reformed ham and yoghurts, then I turn round and there's this huge cattle beast at the kitchen window, number 187 judging by it's ear tag, sniffing the air.
Compared to the family sized boxed Steak pie on the lower shelf that cow is absolutely massive.
It must be kind of weird dishing up a piece of sirloin or dead cow if you like, with a live one looking through the window at the same time.
Compared to the family sized boxed Steak pie on the lower shelf that cow is absolutely massive.
It must be kind of weird dishing up a piece of sirloin or dead cow if you like, with a live one looking through the window at the same time.
8th November. Pure Fantasy.
Mr W's mid-life thing has taken the form of the idea that when the three kids are a bit older he's going to sell the house give them all a bit of money then buy a boat and sail the world.
One daughter who was off school with a vomiting bug was only interested in when she was likely to have her own pony, and spent the afternoon leaving through catalogues of equestrian supplies.
It's a well known fact that horses are a complete money pit second only to ocean going yachts.
One daughter who was off school with a vomiting bug was only interested in when she was likely to have her own pony, and spent the afternoon leaving through catalogues of equestrian supplies.
It's a well known fact that horses are a complete money pit second only to ocean going yachts.
7th November. It's A Wonderful Life - Probably.
Mr H. had a vocation for science, perhaps he was lucky, to have a vocation for anything.
Mr H. still thinks of my position as an enviable position, that is driving around looking in peoples fridges, having cups of tea then climbing up a ladder or whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing.
"Would you like to stay for tea?" asks Mr H. as darkness falls at 5 pm.
"Are you sure?" I ask
'Yes."
There must be worse jobs but is it a vocation? Probably not. I'm just filling in time before the wooden overcoat.
Then up the last great chimney - at the local Crematorium.
Mr H. still thinks of my position as an enviable position, that is driving around looking in peoples fridges, having cups of tea then climbing up a ladder or whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing.
"Would you like to stay for tea?" asks Mr H. as darkness falls at 5 pm.
"Are you sure?" I ask
'Yes."
There must be worse jobs but is it a vocation? Probably not. I'm just filling in time before the wooden overcoat.
Then up the last great chimney - at the local Crematorium.
6th November.My Dead Uncles Y-Fronts.
Mr H. works at the crop research place, I said my uncle used to be the director there until he had a heart attack.
They said it was the job that killed him, couldn't delegate the work, took it too seriously, no family life, all that stress etc, I think he was fifty-two.
After he died my Mother thought, since we were now moved into his former house, that it would be a good idea vis-a-vis sensible economy that I wear out his clothes including his underpants.
The fact is Mr H. had never heard of my uncle which goes to show that flogging yourself to death isn't worth it, neither are the savings from passing dead relatives underwear onto adolescents (in my opinion).
They said it was the job that killed him, couldn't delegate the work, took it too seriously, no family life, all that stress etc, I think he was fifty-two.
After he died my Mother thought, since we were now moved into his former house, that it would be a good idea vis-a-vis sensible economy that I wear out his clothes including his underpants.
The fact is Mr H. had never heard of my uncle which goes to show that flogging yourself to death isn't worth it, neither are the savings from passing dead relatives underwear onto adolescents (in my opinion).
5th November. Pyrotechnic Orgasm.
Each loud bang from above causes any teenage girls in the vicinity to involuntarily scream, as if the screaming function is set with a hair trigger.
The civic firework display follows every Health and Safety guide line known to man and the public is kept at a distance of several hundred metres.
There is no real danger and yet they scream so?
One is reminded of the Fab Four's decision to stop playing live on account of the screaming.
The civic firework display follows every Health and Safety guide line known to man and the public is kept at a distance of several hundred metres.
There is no real danger and yet they scream so?
One is reminded of the Fab Four's decision to stop playing live on account of the screaming.
1st November. Local Firewater Trip.
The tour of the Becherovka factory culminated in a tasting of the three variants of this herbal medicinal alcohol, the ingredients of which remain a closely guarded secret on the lines of the recipe for Coca-Cola.
Our guide was quick to emphasise that two shots was the recommended daily dose to benefit from its long proven health giving properties.
However Isabelle found the apperitif a little too 'medicinal'.
I felt it impolite to leave the proffered samples unconsumed so ended up drinking three times what is considered 'healthy'.
The resultant lightening of spirit and exaggerated sense of wellbeing seemed only to irritate Isabelle.
Our guide was quick to emphasise that two shots was the recommended daily dose to benefit from its long proven health giving properties.
However Isabelle found the apperitif a little too 'medicinal'.
I felt it impolite to leave the proffered samples unconsumed so ended up drinking three times what is considered 'healthy'.
The resultant lightening of spirit and exaggerated sense of wellbeing seemed only to irritate Isabelle.
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