Cropton Yorkshire

Looking back it seemed like a marvellous idea and just the thing to escape the winter blues. Ted Magnum and I had noticed a camping expedition just before Christmas. It was set to be a smallish jaunt for a few days to sunny Yorkshire and a chance to check out my new camping equipment sometime in mid February. Having been ill since July much of the stuff I had purchased had not had the chance to be tested or used in anger and neither the bike nor I had had a decent run out since then.

As the time for departure drew nearer it seemed ominous that Ted should fracture his ribs and cry off like the big girls blouse he has become and my rear brake pads desperately required replacement. The weather had also taken a turn for the worse with predictions of heavy snow. As I had cried off a few run outs in the past few months I felt I would be letting the side down if I did not partake in this one. After all if I could not manage a run out in this country with people I knew, what chance would I have on my own in strange lands. The die was cast and I packed up and set off in clear sunshine under cloudless skies along the M62 arriving in Cropton, North Yorkshire some 4 hours later. Within couple of hours my tent was up and the hordes started to arrive. I say hordes there were about 20 of us but still, a good turnout considering the bitter cold conditions.

Old acquaintances were renewed and I was glad to see a good few friendly faces from previous meet ups. My equipment should have been checked and tested before I left but as I said I had no time to set any of it up. Thanks to Hondas decision to do away with normal petrol taps and fit vacuum pumps into their petrol tanks I was not able to draw any fuel to my new petrol stove. A short length of pipe would have enabled me to siphon some off but it did not occur to me to bring any. As a result I had no cooking facilities. It did not occur to me either that I should have taken some candles to keep warm and take the chill off the tent. My theory that two, one season sleeping bags doubled up with silk liners would make a three season sleeping bag was also completely wrong. As the first night drew in I shivered in my tent as the mercury fell to minus 7 with my teeth chattering so hard I could not sleep. I finally surfaced at around 6am in the hope of seeing someone else awake that I could cadge a cup of tea off.

As it turned out no one else woke or surfaced until around 7-30 am and by that time I was seriously concerned that rigor mortis would set in never mind hyperthermia. I was the coldest I can ever remember. Mercifully Sleepdog appeared and seeing my plight offered me a cuppa before we went off for breakfast. We had been told by the guy organising the run out that our engines would have to be running by 10am for a spot of green laning and then a trip to Whitby for fish and chips before heading back to camp. And so with bellies full and suitably refreshed a dozen bikes set off playing follow the leader. Now my idea of green laning is a nice bit of tarmac preferably with white lines in the middle and some street lights for when it gets dark with some nice bits of greenery on either side of said tarmac. Some live stock in the fields and a few swallows flying idly by and some sunshine in the sky would be ideal but it seems this lot had other ideas about what green laning means.

In this case it meant going along muddy paths that I would not send a pack mule along and the paths were full of mud, huge puddles and some snow, lots of snow. Somehow I managed to get to the end of the path in one piece with no damage to myself or the bike. Feeling quite pleased with myself we stopped at a village green and I had a fag and contemplated the run out to Whitby. My feeling of self satisfaction and general smugness disappeared shortly after we set off again and turned onto a path that sported a large notice with the legend “UNSUITABLE FOR MOTOR VEHICLES”. If this lump of V twin 650 Honda was not a motor vehicle then I have no idea what is. My heart sank but nothing could have prepared me for the terror that was to come. The path led up the side of a mountain that Sherpa Tensing and Sir Edmund Hillary would no doubt have used to practice the assault on Everest. This was not green laning; this was snowboarding and skiing territory.

The snow was deep and I fell off a dozen or so times, once quite badly with my leg trapped under the damn bike. My hand was badly hurt and it swelled up so much I could not use my left hand. This made clutch control a tad awkward. In the end I simply could not go on and feeling like one of the Hobbits as Gandalf led them over the mountains I cracked. My confidence had gone completely and I would gladly have tipped my bike off the ledge and left it there and called in mountain rescue to come and get me off this damn mountain. Only two things could have made me continue, a line of coke to give me some much needed confidence or some Prozac to make me care less. As it was it was Sleepdog who came to the rescue on the confidence front and Obi One Kenobi (the guy who had organised the run out) insisted I ride his much lighter bike and he ride mine.

The difference in machines was amazing, it went where I pointed it to and I did not have to have my feet off the ground so much that it made my hips and legs hurt. As it was the scars on my stomach were aching from the exertion of picking the bike up again and again and yet again many times over. Within a few hundred yards I decided I wanted to swap bikes and keep my new steed. All went well until we started the descent. One by one all of the bikes stopped and as I caught up with the front runners I understood why. In front of us was a steep incline covered in sheet ice that made riding down the side all but impossible except for the very foolhardy or insane. Ten machines were manhandled down the incline until we got to the bottom and back onto the black stuff. I was so happy to be back on tarmac I got down on my knees and kissed the road. It taken us almost five hours to travel 2.5 miles from the sign that said “UNSUITABLE FOR MOTOR VEHICLES” and back onto tarmac. To be fair it was mainly my fault as I was the slowest rider and fell off more times than anyone else. Strangely enough I only saw one other person fall off and that was just the once. I imagined that I was the most unpopular guy in the group although no one said a word.

We arrived back at camp after reaching Whitby and refuelling on fish and chips. By the evening I was in such a bad way I could only limp along and my hand was now turning varying shades of blue. There was only one thing to do and that was to relent. I had given up alcohol for lent but this was akin to 41 days and nights in the wilderness and I got the calling. Several pints of Becks later and I no longer cared about my aching bones and another night under canvass seemed a wonderful idea. I spent a good few hours in the company of Sleepdog and crusty under their basha bathing in the warmth of a charcoal burner. Crusty related the funniest story I have ever heard about pickled eggs but I will not repeat it in print. I thought I was going to cough up a lung I was laughing so hard and the mental images will stay with me for the rest of my life.

Sadly and all too quickly morning arrived and it was time to pack up and go home and then the snow started. It appeared everyone else was heading either north or south but I was the only one going west across the Pennines. I decided to stay another night but this time in the comfort of a bed and breakfast. I made this decision on the grounds that I was not fit enough to brave being stranded if any of the roads west were closed and by the amount of snow falling this was a distinct possibility.

It had been a fantastic weekend, satisfying, terrifying, exhilarating and illuminating and that was just in one afternoon. The people were fantastic and yes I would do it again but not right now! To all those who I had promised to keep records of cost and expenditure so they could decide if they could afford to do what I do here is a rough break down.

3 tanks of fuel, 45 quid (but loads left in my tank)
food and entertainment 80 quid (would have been a lot less if my stove had of been working)
1 nights B+B 45 quid
camping fees nil.

 

It’s payback time

It seemed like a good idea at the time and so I spent part of Thursday evening thinking about an exercise programme having already gone swimming with the Prince of Darkness only the night before. And so before I knew it I was on the floor attempting press ups. I managed two before my stomach decided it did not want to do this and I crumpled into a heap and stared at my cat that was looking at me with bemusement and contempt in the way that only cats can do. What had I done to deserve this contempt I can hear you asking.

A week ago Genghis came into the house with blood pouring from his chest. As it was bleeding over the carpets and showed no sign of letting up me, Roger Moor and the Traveller investigated. There seemed to be a single puncture mark which was where the blood was coming from. After a beer or two we decided that boxers when they are cut use Vaseline to stop blood flow and after a few more beers we decided that an application of Savlon would not only stop the blood flow but would disinfect the wound at the same time. Wrapping the cat up in a towel I held him on his back and with RM stroking him under the chin to soothe him the Traveller proceeded to apply disinfectant cream. Satisfied with our attempts at first aid we all had another beer and marvelled at how good a job we had done. Genghis licked off the cream and started bleeding again. I did what any normal person would do and let him lie on the reddish carpet in the living room in front of the fire. The blood would not show up as much and the fire would make the wound scab over. The three of us agreed that this was a brilliant plan and that neither Christian Barnard nor Sans Frontieres could have drawn up and executed a better plan. We had another beer!

Fast forward a few days and it was apparent that Genghis was not at all well and he would not eat or drink and wanted to sleep a lot more than usual. I made an appointment for the vets and after an investigation it was revealed that he had six puncture marks on his chest and that they were from a cat bite. It had become infected and this was compounded by the fact he had licked off the Savlon cream and the cream was toxic to cats and not for ingestion in any way shape or form. A couple of injections of antibiotics and 50 quid later I took him home. He perked up in a matter of hours and I fed him a piece of raw sirloin I had bought especially for him. By the following day he was back to his old self. The vet had suggested I took him back in a few days for a check up and to give him his booster jabs and worming tablets.

As I walked in cat box in hand the vet said he looked fine and that it would be a good idea now he was here to keep him at the surgery and perform THE OP. I was horrified, I mean I always knew that he would need it but I was not going to be the one who took him there and that is exactly what I had done. It felt like I had taken my best mate out and led him to a butchers shop with sinister intent something along the lines of the butchers in the League of gentlemen. I mean I had always figured that if responsible cat owners put lady cats on the pill then Genghis would not have to have his bollox chopped off and all because some brazen hussy could not keep her tail between her legs.

I picked him up several hours later and he looked sorry for himself. I do not think he knew what had had happened as the anaesthetic had not yet worn off but I figured it would not take him long to figure out that something was missing. So not only was he looking at my pathetic form with utter contempt but he must have been thinking it’s payback time.

 

Only two items left

And so to cheer myself up during the long cold winter months I splashed out on my credit card and bought a raft of goodies. I now have too much gear but I am in the enviable position of deciding what not to take instead of saying I wish I could afford that. Not to crow but just to re-iterate I have managed to collect in a period of just 18 months what some people take a lifetime to acquire. It helped that as I owned much of the stuff many years before; I had a damn good idea of what I wanted this time around. There have been many mistakes along the way and some items have just not been fit for purpose but as I did not know anyone with the same equipment and few shops sold the items I was looking for before I purchased then the internet was the only way to go. The biggest mistake was the satnav. Yes the infernal navigation aid that did not aid at all and seemed hell bent on getting me lost. Sue me Garmin I will happily see you in court!

So I took the plunge and have invested in a new one. Another Garmin but this time all singing all dancing and with expansion slots to take extra maps and information. It is also wide screen and should not present such a problem as trying to view it with my glasses on as the old satnav did. It has all the maps I should ever need including city navigators of all the major towns in Europe. It can also take phone calls and play MP3’s. So to make the most of this piece of electronic gadgetry and to realise its full potential I purchased some other goodies to go with it.

Now perhaps I am naive or I do not understand the instructions but I cannot get the Scala teamset to work as I thought it would. Again as I do not know anyone who has one of these and there do not appear to be any shops locally who sell this item I purchased off the net falling for the blurb that accompanied the product. The idea was to have a head set that would enable me and Bean Counter to communicate with each other instead of us both digging each other in the ribs to attract each other’s attention. Reading the blurb then if I have go this right, both of us should be able to listen to separate things for example she should be able to listen to the MP3 player I bought to accompany her headset. I should be able to listen to the MP3’s stored on the satnav while looking at the map and when we speak to each other both sets of MP3’s should be cancelled out until we stop speaking when they would come on again.

I do not know if the equipment is broke or it was never intended to do this. For now BC and me can speak to each other and not listen to music or we can listen to music to brighten up the boring motorways and not speak to each other. Both include tapping various buttons on the headset which I am not too happy about doing while riding the bike. Of course when I am on my own and have no pillion to communicate with then this will not be a problem. However for now it seems that yet again I have bought something that will not do the job for which I believed it would.

I also failed to realise that the headsets need charging from the mains and cannot be charged from the power supply on the bike. If I am camping then I will have no power to recharge the batteries and the headset will only last for seven hours before it needs more electricity. It will not be an entire waste but 600 quid for all the bits is a lot of money. Maybe I should have just bought the satnav as that does seem to work and a ride out camping in Yorkshire in just two weeks will either confirm that I was justified in spending so much on a single piece of equipment or whether I have been ripped off again. Bark Busters and crash bar panniers are now the only two items missing from my comprehensive list.

 

Maybe things are looking up!

And the news is…. Yes, Commander Riker, on bended knee, finally proposed to Miss Décolletage on Christmas day and she graciously accepted. The happy couple are now engaged after an eight year romance and set to tie the knot sometime in 2011. Of course the idea of a private wedding on a beach somewhere in exotic lands has for now gone out of the window with the world and his dog wanting to attend the ceremony. I have of course come up with a proposal that will meet all of their needs and at a budget they can afford. As most people know I am a Bona fide Jedi priest and as such I have offered to perform the ceremony for them on the local shore at low tide and throw in a hog roast on the local common and all for only 2 cases of Stella. To my surprise this did not provide the undying gratitude I had initially hoped for but they have said they will get back to me.

So what else is new? Well Roger Moor knocked at my door the other day clutching a bottle of Jack Daniels and said take a look at this. He had the bottle in one hand and the top in another. The top had a spike in it and the bottle smelt of fruit. Emails to JD headquarters in Lynchburg Tennessee resulted in a phone call from the top man at the UK head office. It would appear that the latest wheeze is for someone in the distribution chain, IE at one of the supply warehouses in the UK, to implement the brilliant idea of drilling through the stopper of a bottle of JD. They then siphon the JD out of it, replace it with apple juice because it is the same colour and seal it up with a section of cocktail stick and disguise the offending wood with black marker pen. The end result was that RM received two bottles of JD as compensation and the offending bottle was taken away for forensic examination.

This is hardly a new idea but the ingenuity of disguising the hole that was drilled is. I well remember someone telling me a long time ago about bottles of whiskey that had the same treatment. As the top was a cork that did not need drilling a syringe was all that was needed to draw out the contents of a bottle. Cold tea was then injected into the bottle to make up the contents and the cork would self seal. It is the reason why many bottles now have metal caps with a tamper proof seal however it seems JD has stuck to time and tradition and is still using cork with a plastic cap.

As I mentioned in my last post I am now back at work and after four weeks it feels as though I have never been away. This is in no small part thanks to my colleagues who have been wonderful. I still get pains in my stomach and I think it will be some time before they subside if they ever go completely. I finished off the work in my shed at the weekend just gone and as I was putting the tools away I lifted a toolbox to stow it in its home and I felt what can only be described as a tear in my belly and I felt sick almost immediately. The pain went a couple of hours later and I decided that I could not let it run my life for me or dictate what I could or could not do. So I arranged with the Prince of Darkness to go swimming last night. The first length was ok and the second one was not bad but after that it went downhill. I got out of the pool after only 20 minutes and came home. This morning I could hardly move and my stomach muscles felt as though a cannon ball had gone though them. The pain is easing off as I write but I think only a course of gentle exercise will toughen me up. I intend to go swimming again and it may turn out to be a regular event. I will know more in a week or so.

So far the year has gone well and it has certainly been an improvement on the last few years even at this early stage. As usual I have splashed out on my credit card as I always do in the January sales. (More about that in the travel section) A plan of work for the house and dates for that work to be implemented has been completed and work has already started. The shed being one of the many jobs to be completed by the end of September has already been finished. It is now leak free and tidy. A gutter goes up around the shed this weekend coming and new blinds are being fitted to the windows in a fortnight’s time. The Traveller who has just gone back to the South of France has a drawn up a plan and timetable of when each room is being decorated and that will start in March.

In spite of the pains in my stomach I feel good about myself and the prospects for this coming year. I feel full of hope and things that would have got me down last year now seem like a challenge that can be taken on and completed. With the news that the recession is finally over in the UK maybe things are looking up!

 

fate and the gods willing of course.

And so after one of the longest and coldest periods of winter we have endured over the last 20 years or so the snow has finally cleared. Unfortunately the big thaw has also produced localised flooding and the dreaded burst pipes. The garden shed had a few plumbing leaks and the past weekend has generally been spent trying to repair and replace old piping. The event should have taken only an hour or two but the old pipes are made from imperial measurements and the new ones are from metric. The two do not always marry up and it may be a few days before I can turn the water on again.

Of course the news about bins not being emptied and roads being blocked and schools and commerce being shut is nothing shocking in a country where the trains stop running because of leaves on the line or the roads being closed because of the wrong type of snow. It all pales into insignificance though when faced with news from around the world of earthquakes and mass graves totalling over 70,000 bodies so far. Our society may be far from perfect but a quick look around the world shows it to be a Shangri-La in a maelstrom of chaos and confusion. No wonder so many people want to get in.

With talk of getting in, imagine my surprise when out of the blue a phone call from a number I did recognise turned out to be my old mate the Printer. He was calling from the UK and had unbeknown to any one come home from Oz for a holiday with his wife and their two children. We arranged to meet up for a few hours and he and his family landed on my doorstep on Sunday Jan 10th. It was great to see him and he had hardly changed over the years. I have come to the conclusion that for all the times he has told me he was homesick the trip has proved to be a shock for him as the UK is such a different place than it was when he left. He no longer recognised many aspects of the country he once knew and he said the streets were quieter than he remembered and the social life was not the same. I think it will be a long time before he ventures back onto UK soil again. Oz may have its problems but they are different from the UK.

Thanks to my impairment I have not started Rhonda up for a few weeks and as the cold snap had me worrying about whether or not she had enough anti freeze in the cooling system I disrobed the protective swaddling and fired her up. I was half expecting to see the radiator leaking a sieve and the cylinder heads shatter but god bless her she ran like a dream and after 20 minutes I so I closed her down again. That’s when the problems started. Getting her back on the stand was not as easy as taking her off it. My muscles and especially my stomach are still aching from the strain.

I am now back at work and have been for two weeks. Although things have changed as you would expect them to over so long it still feels as though I have never been away. The first day or two were strange but thanks to my wonderful colleagues I seem to have settled in nicely. My scribings may not be up to speed with all of the events that have taken place over the last few weeks, especially the festivities but at least I am now getting there and I expect to be back up to speed very shortly fate and the gods willing of course.

 

we can be heroes

I cannot remember the last time I was so delighted to see a year out. 2009 was not the worst year in my life but it was far from the best and 2010 has come in roaring like a lion. The weather is awful and I am finally back in work. I have a lot of catching up to do both work wise and socially. The past year has also treated various close friends in a similar manner to me although it would not be fair to put names to ailments even if most of them are Nome De Plumes. It is just best to say here is to 2010 and I hope everyone out there has a wonderful year ahead of them.

For me the coming year will be a busy one if any of my dreams are to come to fruition. There is still a lot of work to be completed on the house before the “for sale” sign goes up and I hope to have this ready by the end of September. Hopefully the economic situation will have recovered enough by this time to encourage the banks to lend realistic amounts of money to would be home buyers. There is no shortage of people who want to and can afford to buy. There is a shortage of banks who will lend them the money to do so.

It has also been noted and commented upon that the posts in my blog have been lacking in both regularity and frequency. Sad though it is while there has been a great deal to comment upon I have not always been up to the job of blogging. I mean to say who would have thought that Tiger Woods would have become a hero and a true aspiration to many young sportsmen. I can hear the gasps of incredulity from here but allow me to explain. One marital indiscretion may seem like being cold hearted, two maybe a bit caddish and three definitely a bit of a rake, but 13 and still counting! For god’s sake if I was the chief exec of Pfizer or Red Bull I would be banging on his doorstep with cheques for endorsement.

I can see the adverts now, Tiger Woods sponsored by Red Bull and Viagra. The advert for Gillette would definitely be along the lines of Even Tigers love a smooth pussy, Gillette the best a man can get. So how come Tiger has become a hero in my eyes? Well it shows what you can do when you get to the top of your game. How many adolescent males with far too many hormones running around them would dedicate themselves to sport if they thought they could earn loads and be banging porn stars, cocktail waitresses and hostesses instead of rioting on the streets and selling drugs.

Think about it, England would have won every world cup since its inception if all young footballers thought that would be a reward for practise, hard work, long hours and dedication. Our entire Olympic team would become gold bearing Olympians with monotonous regularity. As Dave Bowie sang we can be heroes.

 

Almost complete

After 18 months and what to me has been a small fortune my kit list is almost complete. The purchase of a lightweight poncho for off the bike travels and a new tarp to give my tent added protection or just as a covered area to park up my bike are the latest additions. The poncho came from Nomad travel and is very light and was not astronomical in price. The tarp was supplied by DD hammocks and again it is large light and waterproof to HH3000. This piece of kit was on sale and came in at around 26 pounds.

There are now only three items left on the list. I may not need them but I will feel happier for having them. The first is a set of bark busters. The hand guards on Rhonda are made of plastic and not very substantial. They keep the wind off my hands but in a fall they will offer little or no protection, I hope the bark busters will address this problem.

The second item is one I will have to make up myself and consists of some pannier racks to be mounted on my crash bars. Currently all the weight of my gear is at the back of the bike and it is a struggle to keep the front wheel down when moving off from a standing start. The racks which will hold my tools and cooking gear will help to redistribute the load more evenly.

The last item is the one that has caused me most anguish. It is a replacement for my untrustworthy sat nav. I have mentioned this one piece of equipment more than any other and it has to be replaced. Maps are all well and good but unless they have a big X on them saying you are here then a satnav is essential, especially on foreign soil where most signs will not be in English. The satnav is probably one of the most expensive items I will have to purchase. Motorcycle satnavs need to be shockproof and waterproof because they are open to the elements. Consequently they are three times more costly than the equivalent car equipment.

There is the possibility of a way around this, Givi and Xtreme Wearther (their spelling not mine) both make a waterproof sat nav bag in which you place a cheap car GPS. I hope to be purchasing one of these babies sometime in the New Year and dispensing with my old Garmin for good!

 

But I won’t hold my breath

Not a great deal has happened, I am still off work and unable to drive. My last attempt was a failure as I could not turn around to see out of the back window when reversing and twisting to see what traffic was approaching me at a junction was fraught with distress. On the few occasions I have been able to bend down and pick something up I have had severe pains afterwards. So, I am still in self imposed house arrest and I am slowly going around the bend. Day time TV has finally become unbearable and I have read every book in the house, even Genghis is giving me a wide berth as I have become so grumpy.

With so little happening I have not had a lot to write about. However I have been keeping up with the news and the directors of RBS which has been bailed out by us the taxpayers have threatened to resign en masse if they are not allowed to give themselves almost 2 billion pounds in bonuses. What is it with bonuses? People get paid for doing a job. They should not be paid more just because they do it well. They should be doing it well and if they are not then they should be sacked. However the people in the world of finance are on a different planet from the rest of us. Having caused the biggest financial crisis in the last 50 years they still think they should be entitled to huge payments for what amounts to a spectacular failure and derivation of duty. Failure and incompetence seem to be the way forward.

Another area of incompetence that has been in the news is the fact that two of Her Majesties latest and best naval vessels are sailing around without any working missile system. These two ships pronounced as the best in the world for their fighting capabilities by the Royal Navy are armed with little more than a pop gun each. The radar systems that allow these ships to be so deadly are still on trials in the south of France and has been for almost three years. No one actually knows when it will be available for active service. Is it any wonder then that piracy in the waters off Somalia is so prolific when the navy does not have any ships capable of stopping pirates?

Yet more woeful incompetence by our wonderful government is the waste of billions of pounds on a centralised National Health Service computer system which does not work and further development is now being halted to save money. Up to 12 billion has already been spent on the damn thing and another 4 billion is needed to make it operational. If the waste of money was not so serious it would be funny. The systematic reward of failure and incompetence is alive and well in every walk of life from private industry to government waste on things that should work but do not. I have no doubt the people who are designing the radar system and the computer programmes for the NHS will be amply rewarded with end of contract bonuses when they eventually manage to get up and running.

On a much lighter note the draw for the world cup took place on Friday and England seem to have an easy group from which to navigate their way forward to the knock out stages. I am sure our best and brightest will become a beacon of hope and inspiration for us mere mortals who will be cheering on our boys. Maybe just maybe these lads will actually earn a bonus but I won’t hold my breath.

 

Another empty promise

So there we have it, democracy in its purest form. Mr Van Rumpy Pumpey is officially the new president of the EU or the Deathstar as I like to call it. A shining example to our boys in Afghanistan who are being shot at and blown up in an attempt to give a population in some far away land the right to elect their own leader while we have an unelected figurehead that no one has ever heard of foisted upon us. I do not recall any voting card being posted through my letter box. I had thought that many of my ancestors who died in two world wars had not passed away in vain. They died to stop some unelected leader ruling our lands and telling is what to do. How wrong I was. What pains me most is that many of the people who have said “what is all the fuss about”, have not read the Lisbon treaty and do not understand its full implications. Oh well if they do not realise then one day maybe their kids will.

In an attempt to relive the boredom of house arrest, I have been fed a diet of daytime TV and the other day I watched a programme about quantum mechanics. I do not profess to remotely understand the theory about Schrodinger’s cat nor how one thing can be in the two different places at the same time. I would ask all the academics out there one question. If something can be in two places at the same time then why can’t I be in the pub while I am in work? The theory is up there with the scientists from Gulliver’s travels trying to distil sunshine from cucumbers.

Work on the house revival has started and as I write two young guys are sorting out my aerials and placing a new super dooper aerial on the roof that should be capable of picking up radio Kamchatka.  The cables are being sorted out and once the new window blinds are in place the house should no longer resemble Steptoe and Sons palace. The list of jobs to complete on the house before it goes on the market is one shorter.

With the night’s drawing in, the mercury falling and adverts for Christmas appearing with alarming regularity, thoughts of travel and sunnier climes are once more looming large. I recently wrote to the Tiler and realised it has been three years since he and his family left. I have no idea where the time is going but its gathering speed and heading for the horizon. I remember promising him just as he left that I would be out there to see him within two years. Sadly as with the promised referendum on the Lisbon constitution/treaty, it has turned out to be another empty promise.

 

too short for EU regulations

I am still unwell and off work. It does look like that I will not return to work this side of New Year. I am still imprisoned and housebound by the fact I cannot drive and walking for more than 200 yards is painful. The scar is healing but slowly and much slower than I want it to and simple things like bending down or reaching up are still excruciating. How is it that most people who have a gall bladder removed are in hospital on a day case and back in work two weeks later while I have a 10 inch scar and have already been off work for five months? The boredom and sheer frustration of not being able to do anything other than watch day time TV is slowly killing me.

On the bright side friends have rallied around and Chateau Ghastanbury has been like central station. Two events, both old traditions to this household, have taken place recently. The first was Halloween and although I was not fit enough to prepare for everything this year Bean Counter said it would not be fair to cancel it. So with the aid of too many names to recall it went ahead with many people turning up in costume to scare the hell out of the kids for a change. This tradition started some years ago when the Marchioness of Ghastanbury was still alive and frightened by the new craze of trick or treat. I decided to surround her by as many friendly faces as possible and to make sure there was a party atmosphere. Although Elsie is no longer here the tradition has carried on.

The second was bonfire night or 5-11 as we now like to call it. A fine old English tradition that is sadly being phased out due to the elf n safety Nazis. A box of fireworks that was purchased by Roger Moor came with the warning that public liability insurance should be sought before igniting any of the said fireworks. In spite of terrible weather and driving rain the event went ahead with much success. Photographs of both events will be placed in the gallery as soon as time allows.

Mr Herbert Van Rumpey Pumpey from Belgium looks set to be the President of the new EU Federation. Even his critics have said the best thing about him is that he is not Tony Blair. This little known Belgian is likely to demand a single flag to represent all members of the Federation and for national flags to be scrapped. Let’s face it we cannot fly the Saltire, the Flag of St George or the Union Jack now for fear of upsetting the PC Nazis. I am sure the new flag will be white and pizza shaped with a Swastika in the middle and featuring Belgian chocolates around the edge with maybe a garlic bulb and a tulip thrown in somewhere.

As for a new anthem, the possibilities are endless. “Europe Europe uber alles si vous plais grazi”, produced by Chas and Dave? Let us be honest the EU Deathstar have attempted to harmonise cucumbers and bananas, how long before they try to standardise pets and then maybe accents and then god forbid people? Now there is a novel idea. In 50 years time Europe will be populated by a race of six foot tall (or should that be 1.9 metres?) with dark skin, red hair, blue eyes and speaking Esperanto in a Lithuanian accent. Geordies less than 6 foot tall with an English bull terrier will be frogmarched to stations en masse and transported by Eurostar trains to the forced labour death camps of the Belgian chocolate mines.

Throughout my period of enforced house arrest my constant companion has been dear old Genghis. This little ball of destructive fluff has exasperated and amused me in equal measures. He is a one off and mercifully not yet subject to the standardisation imposed by the EU Deathstar upon bananas, cucumbers and jam. Hopefully he will have died peacefully in his sleep before some Deathstar official turns up declaring him to be too orange, stripy or too short for EU regulations.