On the way up to the swimming pool from the ferry Isabelle ducked into a paper shop to buy a sandwich which she then proceeded to feed to a crow that looked like it was on a bit of a losing streak.
Much to Isabelle's disappointment the paper shop proved to be one of the few shops that were open this particular Sunday.
The waters of the swimming pool were a bit choppy on account of the numbers of arms thrashing around. Although for the last two lengths calm had returned, that was because most people had already got out.
Mind you I was in Wave 2 - mediocre, Wave 1 is rubbish and Wave 3. Fast.
I never thought I'd be this annoyed about being slower than other people. So this guy comes past on the cycling bit, I'm behind him in the running.
Running three laps of the local park gives an idea of how far away the end is.
I force myself to overtake the annoying guy in front.
I can only imagine it must feel quite good coming 1st instead of 31st.
27th March. There's Probably a Mathematical Model for This.
By 9am Junior is refusing to eat a second breakfast of tinned salmon at 3000 ft.
We have been traipsing through a Tolkienesque landscape of rock, snow and mist and have seen only wild goats.
This was all part of my theory of course about climbing Snowdon even mid-week. Getting up at 5 am in order to avoid the crowds.
Below the summit we are surprised by two other people coming past, then a retired type coming down clad in crampons, ice axe etc.
We acknowledge each others presence even exchange comments about the weather, glad to see another human being.
The summit is arctic but there are more people now who have come up the 'easy' way still each individual says "hello."
Descending, the cloud begins to clear revealing what looks more like a beginners ski slope judging by the masses of fellow walkers toiling up the snow, old people. Families, labradors and even groups of 'young people' having a 'larf', uttering expletives.
At some point acknowledging others abruptly stops and turns to conscious ignoring, then slides further to callous disregard.
We have been traipsing through a Tolkienesque landscape of rock, snow and mist and have seen only wild goats.
This was all part of my theory of course about climbing Snowdon even mid-week. Getting up at 5 am in order to avoid the crowds.
Below the summit we are surprised by two other people coming past, then a retired type coming down clad in crampons, ice axe etc.
We acknowledge each others presence even exchange comments about the weather, glad to see another human being.
The summit is arctic but there are more people now who have come up the 'easy' way still each individual says "hello."
Descending, the cloud begins to clear revealing what looks more like a beginners ski slope judging by the masses of fellow walkers toiling up the snow, old people. Families, labradors and even groups of 'young people' having a 'larf', uttering expletives.
At some point acknowledging others abruptly stops and turns to conscious ignoring, then slides further to callous disregard.
26th March. Anxiety Plus.
"Are we on our way back now?" asks Mother shortly after being installed in the passenger seat.
"No, we're going to LLandudno" I respond.
"What?"
"I SAID WE'RE GOING TO LLANDUDNO, ARE YOU SWITCHED ON?
""What?"
"HAVE YOU GOT YOUR HEARING AID IN?"
"No... We don't want to be late back do we? It'll be getting dark soon."
A cloud moves across the sun.
"It's getting dark now."
And then on the final approach to the seaside town:
"I think I've only been to the toilet once today."
I try to ignore this, pretend as it were, but in the end this is something that cannot be ignored neither is the fact that we don't have the wheelchair with us.
Junior has the bright idea of going to Asda because they have those Care trolleys.
Actually a specific conveyance exists but with wire baskets fore and aft which greatly limits manouverability especially inside the lavatory.
Eventually supermarkets driven by market forces will introduce the Trolley/Commode.
"I don't think I'll come out again" moans Mother "I've had a Number Two."
Oh God.
We have, what I feel, is a a well deserved cup of tea in the instore cafe, blocking most of the entrance on account of the trolley's design.
"Come on we don't want to waste any more time because the traffic could be really bad, sometimes they have dinner earlier than five o'clock.It'll be getting dark soon"
"No, we're going to LLandudno" I respond.
"What?"
"I SAID WE'RE GOING TO LLANDUDNO, ARE YOU SWITCHED ON?
""What?"
"HAVE YOU GOT YOUR HEARING AID IN?"
"No... We don't want to be late back do we? It'll be getting dark soon."
A cloud moves across the sun.
"It's getting dark now."
And then on the final approach to the seaside town:
"I think I've only been to the toilet once today."
I try to ignore this, pretend as it were, but in the end this is something that cannot be ignored neither is the fact that we don't have the wheelchair with us.
Junior has the bright idea of going to Asda because they have those Care trolleys.
Actually a specific conveyance exists but with wire baskets fore and aft which greatly limits manouverability especially inside the lavatory.
Eventually supermarkets driven by market forces will introduce the Trolley/Commode.
"I don't think I'll come out again" moans Mother "I've had a Number Two."
Oh God.
We have, what I feel, is a a well deserved cup of tea in the instore cafe, blocking most of the entrance on account of the trolley's design.
"Come on we don't want to waste any more time because the traffic could be really bad, sometimes they have dinner earlier than five o'clock.It'll be getting dark soon"
22nd March. 2008 Edinburgh University Sprint Triathlon.
Isabelle doesn't care much for swimming, cycling or running, so combining all three into one sport and then making it a race appeals about as much as saturday shopping for parfumeries does to me
However she was anxious to accompany me and lend support, even at such an early hour, to todays event.
I dropped her off somewhere at the bottom of Leith Walk so she could make her way by bus to spend all morning in Jenner's followed by a two course lunch at Harvey Nichol's.
An amazing display of endurance..
However she was anxious to accompany me and lend support, even at such an early hour, to todays event.
I dropped her off somewhere at the bottom of Leith Walk so she could make her way by bus to spend all morning in Jenner's followed by a two course lunch at Harvey Nichol's.
An amazing display of endurance..
21st March. How Young People Celebrate Easter.
There I was proceeding west along Glenearn Rd when I saw a couple of young men in baseball caps loitering in the dark by the swings..
Mmmm... perhaps loitering with intent I thought.
At that precise moment the passenger side window received a direct hit from some missile or other with a resounding crack.
On arrival at the Leisure Pool car park an inspection revealed a plastering of albumen, shell and yolk.
Mmmm... perhaps loitering with intent I thought.
At that precise moment the passenger side window received a direct hit from some missile or other with a resounding crack.
On arrival at the Leisure Pool car park an inspection revealed a plastering of albumen, shell and yolk.
19th March. Steaming.
I kept wondering what the noise coming from the kitchen was.
Something like a pressure cooker permanently blowing it's valve, then a short period of silence then Whoooshh! off again.
Maybe Mrs Y. was trying to make marmalade or boil lentils but the valve was jammed up resulting in the geyser-like escape of steam.
Well I kept going in and out, in my slippers or just socks I might add, because the Y's have a bit thing about dust etc...
Beige carpeting of course upstairs and cream coloured floor tiles downstairs connecting by a beech staircase which was sort of beige as well.
In fact if it isn't beige it's either glass or stainless steel.
Anyway I'm descending the stairs again when suddenly the source of the escaping steam was revealed.
I meet Mrs Y. on her hands and knees with a steam cleaner running over each individual line of grout between the floor tiles.
I can see that grout's going to be a real headache showing the dirt, almost as much as the beige carpet.
Something like a pressure cooker permanently blowing it's valve, then a short period of silence then Whoooshh! off again.
Maybe Mrs Y. was trying to make marmalade or boil lentils but the valve was jammed up resulting in the geyser-like escape of steam.
Well I kept going in and out, in my slippers or just socks I might add, because the Y's have a bit thing about dust etc...
Beige carpeting of course upstairs and cream coloured floor tiles downstairs connecting by a beech staircase which was sort of beige as well.
In fact if it isn't beige it's either glass or stainless steel.
Anyway I'm descending the stairs again when suddenly the source of the escaping steam was revealed.
I meet Mrs Y. on her hands and knees with a steam cleaner running over each individual line of grout between the floor tiles.
I can see that grout's going to be a real headache showing the dirt, almost as much as the beige carpet.
18th March. Chimney Deja-Vu.
"We're looking at fitting a multifuel stove in this room" says the blonde haired woman that looks like she's reached that age when women start ironing their hair, "Something about 8 watts".
Yeah well 8 watts? you'd be as well putting an energy efficient bulb in the fireplace and huddling around that.
"You were recommended to us by our friends in Bellwood Park"
"Errr... is that the woman that teaches baby massage?"
"No... but she lives next door and recommended you to our friends"
"Oh right"
"I get the feeling I've already been in this house before and done something to a chimney, do you mind if I have a look round?"
The kitchen is an expanse of marble tiles and looks like every other new kitchen.
"I'm not sure, the kitchen was all completely retro 1950's even the fridge was authentic."
"Yes! That's right! it was like that when we moved in, of course we've had it all completely redone.
It's a classic case of one woman's idea of what looks good being completely destroyed to make way for another woman's idea of what looks good.
It's all comng back now, I'd been recommended to the previous woman by yet another woman from the street below.
And the greatest irony of it all is: I'd be quoting the current woman to pull apart the fireplace and fit a liner in the exact same chimney that the previous woman had paid me to fix.
Yeah well 8 watts? you'd be as well putting an energy efficient bulb in the fireplace and huddling around that.
"You were recommended to us by our friends in Bellwood Park"
"Errr... is that the woman that teaches baby massage?"
"No... but she lives next door and recommended you to our friends"
"Oh right"
"I get the feeling I've already been in this house before and done something to a chimney, do you mind if I have a look round?"
The kitchen is an expanse of marble tiles and looks like every other new kitchen.
"I'm not sure, the kitchen was all completely retro 1950's even the fridge was authentic."
"Yes! That's right! it was like that when we moved in, of course we've had it all completely redone.
It's a classic case of one woman's idea of what looks good being completely destroyed to make way for another woman's idea of what looks good.
It's all comng back now, I'd been recommended to the previous woman by yet another woman from the street below.
And the greatest irony of it all is: I'd be quoting the current woman to pull apart the fireplace and fit a liner in the exact same chimney that the previous woman had paid me to fix.
17th March. They Must Be Having An Affair.
Running along in the moonlight, barefoot of course, there is a car up ahead which appears to be stopped in the road.
Rather sinisterly the lights go off then come on again then go off again, I decide to wait at the edge of the wood but the car engine doesn't start.
For some reason, maybe somethng about running silently up to a parked car in the dark on a narrow road, I decide to detour through the wood for added sole conditioning to pass it on the way back.
Approaching where the car had been, from the other direction, it was still there, I could make out it's shape in the dark, suddenly the sidelights come on, obviously some activity disturbed.
The sidelights betrayed something of the make and model of car perhaps a ten year old Rover definitely not a sporty hatchback.
A middle-aged or even retired persons vehicle, music is coming from inside, could be James Last certainly not Hard House...
My pace increases at the horror of being accused of middle-aged Dogging.
Rather sinisterly the lights go off then come on again then go off again, I decide to wait at the edge of the wood but the car engine doesn't start.
For some reason, maybe somethng about running silently up to a parked car in the dark on a narrow road, I decide to detour through the wood for added sole conditioning to pass it on the way back.
Approaching where the car had been, from the other direction, it was still there, I could make out it's shape in the dark, suddenly the sidelights come on, obviously some activity disturbed.
The sidelights betrayed something of the make and model of car perhaps a ten year old Rover definitely not a sporty hatchback.
A middle-aged or even retired persons vehicle, music is coming from inside, could be James Last certainly not Hard House...
My pace increases at the horror of being accused of middle-aged Dogging.
16th March. Three Men In a Kitchen.
There comes a time in a man's life when a need for an occupational change seems to be overriding.
"Young" Alistair seemed to be proposing some sort of excursion on the lines of the famed 'Three Men In A Boat' over a cup of tea with another middle-aged visitor.
The emphasis seemed to be on a blowke-ish few days, probably a recipe for a drowning.
My feeling is that these events are mere diversions from the real meat of life - meaningful work.
In that regard we could all just swap jobs although the Teaching Profession could be the short straw in this game.
"How is the teaching profession these days?" I asked this afternoon's visitor.
"A bag of shite."
"Young" Alistair seemed to be proposing some sort of excursion on the lines of the famed 'Three Men In A Boat' over a cup of tea with another middle-aged visitor.
The emphasis seemed to be on a blowke-ish few days, probably a recipe for a drowning.
My feeling is that these events are mere diversions from the real meat of life - meaningful work.
In that regard we could all just swap jobs although the Teaching Profession could be the short straw in this game.
"How is the teaching profession these days?" I asked this afternoon's visitor.
"A bag of shite."
11th March. Heavy Metal Mouth.
I took a drink of water from the cold tap at the former tearoom.
Obviously not mains water here out in the wilds surrounded by what might be a landscape considered picturesque in July or August but just endless moorland today.
There was the unmistakeable tang of metal in that water.
No wonder the tea tastes kind of weird, no wonder the tearoom closed down?
Now it could be rusty cast iron but the water looks clear enough, in that case, by the time it reaches the kitchen it's probably been running through half a mile of lead pipe.
Have you ever tried chewing lead?
Apart from the toxicity it tastes revolting in a metallic way just like this water.
Scottish Blend specially selected to disguise the taste of lead/ dead ewes in a private water supply.
Obviously not mains water here out in the wilds surrounded by what might be a landscape considered picturesque in July or August but just endless moorland today.
There was the unmistakeable tang of metal in that water.
No wonder the tea tastes kind of weird, no wonder the tearoom closed down?
Now it could be rusty cast iron but the water looks clear enough, in that case, by the time it reaches the kitchen it's probably been running through half a mile of lead pipe.
Have you ever tried chewing lead?
Apart from the toxicity it tastes revolting in a metallic way just like this water.
Scottish Blend specially selected to disguise the taste of lead/ dead ewes in a private water supply.
10th March. Ironman
New light on the perplexing problem of how a human being can complete something like an Ironman.
According to some winning authority on the Net it's all about heart rate monitors, briefly one subtracts one's age from 180 and this gives an upper limit to exercise.
I set off at a reasonable pace and glance at the monitor - 215, Jeezo!
According to the winning authority the problem is having the patience to run slowly enough to condition the heart.
However I've found that this can be easily achieved by meandering bare feet across a ploughed field.
According to some winning authority on the Net it's all about heart rate monitors, briefly one subtracts one's age from 180 and this gives an upper limit to exercise.
I set off at a reasonable pace and glance at the monitor - 215, Jeezo!
According to the winning authority the problem is having the patience to run slowly enough to condition the heart.
However I've found that this can be easily achieved by meandering bare feet across a ploughed field.
9th March. The Scottish Handbag Show.
It's all about the 'look' for Isabelle.
Motorcycles are basically like handbags with wheels from a woman's viewpoint.
The Motorcycle Show gives men the chance to view the latest fashion trends for this year and the price tags.
Orange (KTM), Green (Kawasaki), etc
"I think I look best on the Speed Triple" says Isabelle sitting astride the latest black streetfighter.
"So I twist this towards me and it goes faster" she says grabbing a handful of throttle..
"Sort of" I reply, imagining the results if it was actually in first gear with the engine running...
Motorcycles are basically like handbags with wheels from a woman's viewpoint.
The Motorcycle Show gives men the chance to view the latest fashion trends for this year and the price tags.
Orange (KTM), Green (Kawasaki), etc
"I think I look best on the Speed Triple" says Isabelle sitting astride the latest black streetfighter.
"So I twist this towards me and it goes faster" she says grabbing a handful of throttle..
"Sort of" I reply, imagining the results if it was actually in first gear with the engine running...
5th March. Pigeon Epoxy.
One of those disabled pigeons has what looked like a ball exactly the size and colour of a walnut encasing one foot.
This had the affect of rendering its gait even more gammie than before. However one of the endearing traits of birds is that their habit is to just 'get on with it', when do you ever see a depressed Sparrow or a Blue Tit that thinks it's got a peanut allergy?
Anyway closer inspection revealed that the 'walnut' was composed entirely of pigeon effluvia but in a solid rather than liquid state.
Cracking the 'walnut' proved impossible and the material is also remarkably resistant to soaking in water.
The pigeon seems to share with the chicken the ability to produce an organic substance with all the properties of Araldite Rapid.
This had the affect of rendering its gait even more gammie than before. However one of the endearing traits of birds is that their habit is to just 'get on with it', when do you ever see a depressed Sparrow or a Blue Tit that thinks it's got a peanut allergy?
Anyway closer inspection revealed that the 'walnut' was composed entirely of pigeon effluvia but in a solid rather than liquid state.
Cracking the 'walnut' proved impossible and the material is also remarkably resistant to soaking in water.
The pigeon seems to share with the chicken the ability to produce an organic substance with all the properties of Araldite Rapid.
4th March. Scary Old Bitch In A Perthshire Kitchen.
You always wonder when you're making a cup of tea with your back to a snarling dog in a strange kitchen if it can smell the fear.
"A,A,A! Calm Down, Calm Down!"
Silence for about ten seconds.
"A,A!"
Jeez how much longer is it going to take this kettle to boil?
I'm begining to smell the fear myself.
"A,A,A! Calm Down, Calm Down!"
Silence for about ten seconds.
"A,A!"
Jeez how much longer is it going to take this kettle to boil?
I'm begining to smell the fear myself.
1st March. Bollocks.
Received notice from HM Revenue & Customs that unless I pay £2599 by the tenth of this month I will be shot.
Also any assets not inside the house, ie in a garage will be siezed, well they'd be welcome to the Daihatsu, recently synchromesh seems to have gone on second.
As a Citizen we're all meant to be paying for our share of Northern Rock and bringing democracy to the Taliban.
They should just let Tesco run the country, cause it does anyway, whole swathes of mouse clickers could be dispatched, cut out the dead wood, buy one get one free, streamline the whole process with one-click ordering
It's all like a Superstore that still has a half day wednesday.
Also any assets not inside the house, ie in a garage will be siezed, well they'd be welcome to the Daihatsu, recently synchromesh seems to have gone on second.
As a Citizen we're all meant to be paying for our share of Northern Rock and bringing democracy to the Taliban.
They should just let Tesco run the country, cause it does anyway, whole swathes of mouse clickers could be dispatched, cut out the dead wood, buy one get one free, streamline the whole process with one-click ordering
It's all like a Superstore that still has a half day wednesday.
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