A grand night out

Mr A and I went out last week. Together, into town, to a comedy gig. This hasn't happened for, let's say, two years? Although perhaps in that time we might have been to Warwick Arts Centre, but I don't remember.

I saw a notice that Henning Wehn, German comedy ambassador ("not an easy job") was playing at the Spa Centre, which is within walking distance. I don't generally keep an eye on the listings, because the venue usually hosts acts such as 'Brass Band plays Mantovani' or 'Gerald Williams, Hypnotist to the Stars'. The tickets were very reasonably priced, as Herr Wehn is pretty well known on radio but has not yet made it to the big time on TV.

Friday was the big day, and I'd already decided to make it a dry run for any future occasion when I'd be called upon to dress up, like a Christmas do or an evening soiree. I now had the Lady Shoes With Heels, the ancient historical and hand-me-down dresses from Lola II's friend, and I'd bought tights. The technology of tights has come on a long way since the last time I bought any, which would easily have been 15 years ago. That's probably all I'm going to say, other than both fit and performance are vastly improved.

Most of Friday was a struggle. Mr A had a bit of difficulty at work, making him very stressed, which means that he spent quite a lot of time de-stressing by sitting on the sofa in my workroom and telling me things that I had negligible capacity to influence. So I listened carefully and offered whatever support I could muster. Lola II was also having a bad day, and she called me to unload some of the stories and ask for suggestions, which I was happy to give, even though by this time I was in town, sheltering from the rain in one of my favourite charity shops (where I successfully bought a pair of jeans that fit, for less than a fiver. Lola II will potentially benefit on the 'one in, two out' clothing exchange system that I am still running, if she wants the pairs of jeans and chinos that are now too big for me). Then mum had a bit of difficulty with an online order for printer supplies, so I helped out with that as well.

So it was nice to leave all that behind, get all dressed up and go next door for a pre-show drink before tottering across town to the gig. Mr A had decided he might as well dress up too, given that his usual scruffy attire might look odd next to my attempts at Dressed Up. The distance is about doubled with the Lady Shoes, and Mr A kept getting half a step ahead and having to wait for me to catch up, but I made it in the end. It was a very good gig, focussed mainly on contrasting aspects of German and British behaviour, interspersed with audience participation in German carols - O Tannenbaum, Kling Glöckchen Klingelingeling, Stille Nacht, and another one I didn't know.

So I am now confident in my ability to present a well-turned out figure to society for at least half a mile on foot and three hours. Perhaps this might constitute my first step back towards the constraints of grown-up society after my detour into the very comfortable world of student life. I'd rather be wearing trainers, jeans and an old sweatshirt, though.

Food, drink and TV

The Food and Drink Festival was back at the weekend, and better than ever. I couldn't be bothered to go on the Taste Trail this time because neither Lola II nor Mr A would be with me, and all that food doesn't go well with weight loss. They've learned from previous years, too - the Trail was free the first time, then we paid a pound for entry last time, but this time they're charging a pound per restaurant, which is only right.

There were more stalls than in previous years in the Pump Room Gardens, and most were mouth-wateringly attractive, although the produce was not cheap. We met some neighbours and got talking about pheasants, and I now have the opportunity (when the season starts) to learn how to draw and pluck a freshly-shot bird. I bought a couple of things (German salami and Warwickshire sausages) and came home, then enticed Mr A out again for lunch. He chose paella, I had a very tasty vegetable Thai green curry with rice. Mr A bought a couple of things (a venison pie and a pork pie, local cheeses) and that was it.

In other news, a job vacancy came up over the weekend which I applied for, and we attempted to install Freeview. Our turn has come for digital switchover and the removal of analogue terrestrial broadcasting to our area. It should have been straightforward, but our analogue TV is old and there is the added complication of the BARB monitoring device which is wired in to our setup in a manner that I couldn't fathom. So they are sending a chap round this week to sort us out. In the meantime we have some extra BBC channels and we have lost ITV until the second phase of switchover in a couple of weeks. It hardly makes a difference at all, and we can still watch our DVDs, so everything's fine really.

Guide Dogs

On Saturday, as we walked towards the Pump Room Gardens along the Riverside Walk, Mr A said to me, "I do hope you get a job that means we don't have to move house."

Yes, I know I wasn't going to write about 'what I did at the weekend', but I'm back on one of my favourite topics: how much we like living here. On Saturday, alongside the monthly Farmers' Market, an event was held in the Pump Room Gardens featuring Guide Dogs for the Blind Association and various other worthy and mostly dog-related organisations.

Although I worked for RNIB for 14 years, I didn't have a lot of contact with GDBA. I've met plenty of guide dog owners, but their dogs didn't tend to feature in my work, either in the workplace or in the social context. When given the choice of human or dog as guide, the human wins every time, so I didn't even get to observe anyone working their dog. In mass gatherings such as conferences, the most interesting times were when a scrap broke out among the dogs, or at one memorable hotel-based event when a corridor became impassable because of a smell that had to be traced to a dog, because no human could have produced it.

In my one-to-one assessment work, I went to see a client on a day when his dog had suddenly been taken ill in some way, and while I was there the call came from the vet to say that the dog couldn't be saved. Never having had pets of my own, I had no emotional sense whatever about what this meant, but soon realised with a sense of shame that I needed to come back another time to finish the assessment.

Another assessment visit that sticks in my mind was to see a client in a public sector role, who told me about a recent time when his colleagues thought it was a great joke to take his guide dog and hide it when he was out of the room. The dog was traumatised, the man didn't know what to do with himself, and none of the managers took it seriously. It was the worst case of workplace bullying I have ever seen, but he didn't want to make a complaint. He was looking for work elsewhere, and wanted to leave without any trouble.

Then there was the time when a dog-using colleague sent an email round asking if anyone had a small ornament in the shape of a deer that he could have? When he had been on a visit to a client in their home, his dog had eaten an deer ornament belonging to the client, and he wanted to offer a replacement as compensation. As I remember it, the dog had to be retired after it jumped out of a window, but that might not be entirely true.

Another dog-using colleague had a great store of dog-related jokes, including the one about the blind parachutist. He was able to tell when the ground was approaching because the dog's lead went slack.


Anyway, back to the Pump Room Gardens. I only found out about the event because of my friend's guide dog training taking place in Leamington this week, although there were plenty of onlookers so there must have been some sort of publicity somewhere. Loads of dogs: working dogs, training dogs, puppies, pets, and big boards showing how they are bred, cared for and trained. Tombola, raffles, bric-a-brac being sold in aid of GDBA, other Assistance Dogs, and the usual suspects who turn up when there's an opportunity for a stall: crepes, face-painting, cream teas and Napton Water Buffalo ice cream and burgers.

There was a display arena, where I happened to catch a demonstration of how dogs are trained and their capacity for guiding their owners. There was an obstacle course, and particular demonstrations showing how dogs signalled various hazards and what they and the owner did about them. There was a separate demonstration that included a bus stop, zebra crossing and road works. It's not surprising that GDBA raises so much money: the dogs are amazing, to the extent that it can bring a lump to your throat.

The weekend

I'm not sure that I can maintain the prodigious output of this blog in my new state of underemployment. Certainly there are many things I must do which keep me rather busy, but they do not provide particularly interesting reading. I have spent a day and a half cleaning the kitchen thoroughly, with about the same amount to go, and there are no amusing stories to be told about that endeavour. I do get to listen to a whole lot of good stuff while I'm doing it, though - music, radio, podcasts and audio books.

I have managed to escape from the cleaning drudgery a few times. I walked across town on Saturday to feed chickens belonging to friends. Have I mentioned how much I love Leamington Spa? There is always something going on. This time, I encountered a whole lot of people in fancy dress with their homemade rafts, ready for a raft race down the river in aid of charity.

The five chickens live in their run in the back garden, and were surprisingly pleased to see me, although whether that was because they were expecting to be fed or because they had missed the human company I couldn't say, not being very familiar with the care of chickens. Their clucks are very pleasing to the ear, and I came away with three fresh eggs as well as a feeling of well-being.

I have also been up to Manchester for a 25th anniversary party of the badminton club where I used to play. I have been away for much longer than I spent playing there, but that club remains the best I have belonged to, both in terms of organisation, spirit and social arrangements. If I get a job up there, then Tuesday nights will belong to Nettles Badminton Club. I managed to squeeze in a couple of extra visits while I was there, to catch up with lovely northern family and friends, and I can thoroughly recommend the B & B establishment I stayed at.

A last word for Mr A, who has the first of two exams today with the second on Thursday. Like childbirth (so I understand), the pain of revision swiftly fades, so I can only remember that it is a horrible ordeal and Mr A has been doing little else for two weeks or more. Once the exams are over he continues to have a frighteningly dense schedule of assignment deadlines until the next two exams in October, after which he will be able to take a bit of a break. So I hope that he does as well as he hopes and deserves to.

Food & Drink Festival

Hello, Lola II here.

Lola I, blog-owner extraordinaire, made a little harmless comment recently that there have been no contributions to her blog from anyone else for a while. Since I am the only official guest contributor (I don't mean you lovely commenters), I assumed that what she was actually saying was:

"I've had to go to work for weeks now and it's exhausting and it would be really helpful if you could do a little writing. Firstly because it'll be a nice break for me, but mostly because I love your writing style, you are eloquent, your grammar are second to a none and your speelling is exemplorrie".

My own motivation for writing is that Lola's brain is the size of a planet, near full capacity, and unless I give her a break and do a little writing myself, it is likely to explode. Not such a problem except that she is due to come and stay with me from today until Sunday, and I hate cleaning.

Last weekend Mr M & I visited Lola I and Mr A, and dropped in on the Leamington Food and Drink Festival.

The Taste Trail comprised of nine restaurants offering free food in return for a rating from the tasting public. The restaurant's hope is that, by the end, they will be classed as GOLD! Our part of the arrangement was free food, and entry in raffle to win a dinner for two. Mr M said he'd donate the meal we were sure to win to Lola and Mr A. Mr M is a much nicer person than me. I generously conceded that I would visit them before our meal.

Meanwhile, in a park nearby, there were oodles of stalls selling and demonstrating and tasting a variety of food, from Caribbean to Greek to French to Thai to Sausage Heaven and Olive Oil-tastic. All accompanied by soft background music, punctuated by the singer saying "oh sorry, that was the wrong verse".

My objection on the sampling food front is to the man who got the last piece of a pork pie and fed it to his greyhound. I stood back to watch the stallholder's reaction, ready to dive in and support local industry in light of this grossly unjust and disrespectful behaviour! In the blink of an eye I considered whether I was prepared to wade into a fist fight. Possibly. One with a dog involved? Oh yes, I love dogs.

What does the stallholder say? He says "is that an ex-racer?" SampleStealingMan says yes and the stallholder gave him the thumbs up!!!! Unbelievable. It's a sorry state of affairs when a proper sampling law-abiding person such as myself is trumped at the pork pie stand by a doggie. Hrrmph.

Top notch moments were the free bites to eat in Sabai Sabai (Thai) and Kayal (South Indian),the best chocolate florentine I've EVER had - crystallised ginger was inspired. Having a little dance with Mr M, his first cobnut, and seeing Mr A run like greased lightening down the stairs and out of the house with Lola realising almost immediately that it was because there was some kind of fancy airplane zooming past outside. Turns out it was a Spitfire, so Mr A's attempt to break the four second mile was justified.

We had a Rocky Road disaster, Portuguese nata cake-thing that wasn't up to scratch and the worst nutella crepes I have EVER experienced in all my life. Worst of all was when I popped off to the public loo and I saw a 14 year old girl walking towards the men's. In my super-helpful citizen mode I shouted out "no, that's the men's!" The child turned to me and said, "yes, I know". That little boy should jolly well get his hair cut.

A make-over for Queen Victoria

We should definitely do this to the statue of Queen Victoria outside the Town Hall in Leamington Spa. Non-Working Monkey took the photo. She writes a very funny blog that has most amusing home-made films in it as well as other very astute observations.

Pip pip!

Overdoing it

The planned six-day revision week with weekends on Tuesdays has already been blown away by an evening out on Friday night, when a badminton friend suggested we go to The Assembly for their regular 60s/70s/80s dance night.

This wonderful local music venue has been restored to resemble its original 1920's art deco look, and reopened in 2008 after being a bingo hall for some years. It's a brilliant place and we've been to gigs there a couple of times, but now the quality of the place has been recognised with a national award for best live music venue in the country. It beat off such competition as the O2 arena and the Shepherd's Bush Empire. which are very well-known establishments in much more affluent and well-populated communities, i.e. London.

The doors didn't open until 9 p.m. so we knew it was going to be a late night, but hadn't counted on the quality of the show. Unlike your usual Christmas or wedding disco, these guys knew what they were doing, and we danced our feet off (literally - Mr A could hardly walk home). We really enjoyed ourselves, and I found myself wondering if we couldn't do it on a more regular basis. At only £5 to get in it's very reasonable, and better exercise than my badminton. Drink prices are extortionate of course, but we can do without the alcohol.

The main disadvantage is the after-effects - we didn't get to bed until 2 a.m and I pretty much missed Saturday. I got up late, then had to make a trip into town to investigate the possibilities for mending the dishwasher, which has stopped filling with water. [Every so often I think about investigating the possibilities for fixing the oven, which still works in conventional oven mode, but doesn't heat up in fan oven mode. One day...] Once I had been to the dishwasher shop, and got a bit of food in, and cooked up some soup for the freezer, I had to go to bed again.

Our opportunity to re-live the experience came just two days later: on Sunday our favourite ex-landlord, Smurf, held his 40th birthday party at the Assembly. We weren't sure whether to go - after all, we're just people that lived next door to his old place of work, not real friends. But we did go, along with plenty of other neighbours. After Friday's night's excesses we definitely planned just to stay for an hour, and definitely get home before 10 p.m. Definitely.

To start with, Mr A and I sat awkwardly in a corner, pointing out people to one another with comments like "That tall man who drinks at the Cricketers, is that his wife?" and "He was here on Friday - do you know his name?" We weren't sure if this was more like a birthday party in a big venue so we should talk to strangers and introduce ourselves, or if it was more like a gig put on by an acquaintance, in which case we should just smile and talk to people we know.

Then there were bands - the first was 'Easy Money', a double act who used to play at the Cricketers on Sunday afternoons, plus guest drummer. The second was barman Gaz's band, previously 'Akeal', now renamed 'International Jetset' for better mass appeal. Then there was a 'one night only' get-together of disbanded group 'Broken Dolls', whose tour manager used to be Smurf. After that there was general music for dancing, although the majority of guests disappeared to the bar and the smoking area. I'd say that my second glass of wine was the main reason that we found ourselves out on the otherwise deserted dance floor.

We definitely got home before midnight. I'm pretty sure we did.

Weekend featuring Meccano

Lola II's visit has passed in a whirlwind of activity, featuring high levels of food intake, botanical excitement and DVD-watching. She and Mr M arrived on Saturday, bringing gifts of flowers, wine, chocolate, pyjamas and an enormous raspberry pavlova. It has taken four of us more than two days to eat the pavlova, and the portion sizes were staggering. Delicious, though.

Lola II also brought the Meccano that dad acquired over 60 years ago, which I enjoyed playing with more than 30 years ago. All four of us spent some time on Saturday night constructing our choice of model. Mr A was preoccupied with studying (he has a deadline tomorrow), so his truck remained unfinished, but Lola II made a 'girocopter', I constructed a fairground roundabout, and Mr M created a 'swing boat'. You would have been able to see the results in a hilarious video, but for some reason Blogger didn't like it. So just these pictures, then:


On Sunday we explored the world of horticulture. Lola II's new house has small front and back gardens, and Mr M is keen to populate this urban jungle with some lovely plants. Over the last four months of heavy duty unrelenting school work, I have killed most of my indoor plant friends, including several leaves of the aspidistra, which I thought would survive anything up to and including a nuclear holocaust. Unfortunately, the garden centre we chose didn't stock indoor plants, but Lola II and Mr M came away with a haul of outdoor goodies, while I sat in the car because loitering outside in the wind was much too cold.

There was more plant-based excitement after lunch, with a walk guided by a leaflet containing fifteen walks highlighting the Trees of the Jephson Gardens. We did walk 1, particularly admiring the Caucasian Wingnut, the Paper-bark Maple, the Cedar of Lebanon and the Monterey Pine. Then we had a hot chocolate. The other fourteen walks will have to wait for future visitors to Lola Towers.

What else? Well, I provided noodle soup on Saturday night, we watched Dinner Rush, Mr A did a great roast lamb on Sunday with Yorkshire Puddings by yours truly, we watched Big Night, and on Monday we watched an episode of Jeeves and Wooster and had a small lunch in the pub. I estimated Mr M's carbohydrate intake at each opportunity, and gradually became more accurate through the weekend, which is very handy for my course.

These few days off have been very refreshing, to the extent that I'm almost ready to go back to work. Just a few jobs today, and I think it will be coursework for the rest of the week, and then revision: just under six weeks to my first exam.

Cold weather

Monday

The weather is extraordinarily cold, but still no snow for Leamington Spa, despite tales from the north of impassable roads and travel chaos. Mr A had to use the car in the morning, after it had been sitting immobile for at least a week. Aside from the difficulty opening the iced-up doors, there was ice on the inside of the windscreen.

When I needed the car for badminton in the evening, I had to scrape the windows down again (thankfully outside only), and again two hours later when I came out of the hall to drive home. At least I was warm - running around wildly for two hours is good for generating heat, as well as mental well-being.

The car thermometer said the outside temperature was -3.5 ºC when I got home. Normal for some places, maybe, but very unusual for us.

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Tuesday

Snow! But not very much, and not for long. A dusting only. I am wishing for snow because it looks nice and makes everything quiet. If roads are impassable next Monday, however, I will not be able to get to my exam, which is at 9 a.m. sharp.

Without the inclement weather, when it comes to travelling to an exam I allow more than two hours for the one hour journey, in case of trouble. If there is serious risk of proper snow and ice, I will have to consider travelling up the previous night.

We have been very generous with the heating while we are both working at home, but today I decided on extreme measures. I am fully dressed for skiing: no gloves, hat or goggles, but including salopettes, ski socks and all thermals. So far, it is working.

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Wednesday

It snowed all night, and we have a lovely few inches of silent white quilt covering everything. Mr A proposed a tobogganing outing, and I considered carefully before agreeing. I've got to the stage where I'm nearly scared enough to work really hard on the revision and not consider doing anything else, but it is only Wednesday and there are still four full days in which to panic.

It was a good thing we decided to walk rather than drive across town, because the road leading up to Newbold Comyn and the sports centre and golf course was an ice rink, and the police were there trying to sort out the cars that couldn't get out. There was only time for a few runs, all pretty tame really except for an inadvertent dive into a bunker. The golf course doesn't have much in the way of mountains compared with the Alps or the Pyrenees. It put a smile on my face, though.

I've contacted the accommodation office on campus, and I shall probably travel up on Sunday and stay overnight. The forecast shows continued cold weather, so even if it doesn't snow any more it will be a nasty journey up the M1 motorway early on Monday morning. Much better to travel on Sunday afternoon nice and slowly during daylight.

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Thursday

No more tobogganing excursions for me. It's revision all the way now.

Comedy

Over the last few months, Mr A and I have treated ourselves to a number of comedy gigs at Warwick Arts Centre. We have seen Reginald D Hunter (and support), Milton Jones (and support), Adam Hills, Rob Brydon (and support) and Marcus Brigstocke. It has been quite the most concentrated set of visits to one theatrical venue that I can ever remember.

Warwick Arts Centre is on the campus of Warwick University, which is technically located in Coventry rather than Warwick. This gives comics a little trouble, because traditionally a performer will start off with some 'local' jokes, picked up through reading a local paper or asking a local resident about local issues. This would work for a venue in a town centre, where the majority of the audience will have experience of that place. But I think the WAC audience consists of mostly middle class professional people from Warwick, Leamington, Kenilworth, and Warwickshire villages. Coventry residents and Warwick uni students are in the minority. Mr A and I never visit Coventry - the nearest I get is the ring road on the way to some badminton venue.

[One comedian we saw a few years ago misjudged the audience spectacularly, because presumably he thought a campus gig would be full of students. He made some 'hilarious' comments at the expense of taxpayers, which were met with unsmiling silence since the 99% taxpaying audience didn't find the idea of ripping off taxpayers very funny.]

Anyway, here's how it went:

Reg D Hunter was very good, despite our seat location in the front row (the tickets were returns, I had no choice). Proper funny. His support act was unpleasant though - a shouty, opinionated, hairy Australian delivered a ranty set including diatribes against 'political correctness' and 'health and safety', both of which are NOT utterly pointless.

Reg D Hunter: 8/10. Support act: 1/10.

I love Milton Jones for his very dry one-liners - he reminded me of Tommy Cooper's way of throwing out a line that you realise a second or two later is hilarious once you've worked it out. His support act seemed quite young and inexperienced, which put me on edge in case he bombed, but he just about got through.

Milton Jones: 7/10. Support act: 5/10.

Next came Adam Hills, who did the whole gig himself, no support, and was pretty good. It was a shame, though, because although it's traditional to pick on people in the front row of comedy gigs, he chose to pick on a 17 year-old lad who really didn't want the attention. He should have let it go and moved on, but he persisted, even into the second half, and Mr A said he just stopped enjoying it because this lad was having such a bad time.

Adam Hills: 6/10, but would have been higher if he'd left the boy alone.

Then Rob Brydon, who's actually famous. Nobody's heard of Milton Jones, but once you mention the Welsh one in Gavin and Stacey, people know Rob Brydon. He had a very funny and expert support act, whose best line was at the start when some latecomers arrived: "Rob's not here so we're all having a go - I'm from Row G." Rob himself did about 90 minutes after the interval - in fact, it ended so late that we couldn't even get a pint in the pub when we got home. He was the most actorly and rehearsed, even though there was a fair amount of audience interaction - again, interacting with the middle classes isn't very funny without a lot of rowdy students.

Rob Brydon: 8/10. Support act: 7/10.

Now we come on to Marcus Brigstocke. I've had tickets to see Marcus before at WAC, but forgot to go, which was one of the most furiously annoying things that has ever happened to me. I have seen him before, at Ealing Comedy Festival with Lola II and nephew 1, but that was just a short set and he wasn't even headlining. I loved it. The interesting thing is that he was probably just as shouty and opinionated as Reg D Hunter's support act, but this time I agreed with him, so that made it OK.

Marcus Brigstocke: 9/10.

I rather prefer comedy gigs to music, although it's hard to beat some good old-fashioned dancin'. Previous comedians wot I 'ave seen over the years have been:

• Paul Merton - obviously a consummate professional
• Eddie Izzard - I probably laughed the most at this one
• Ed Byrne - pretty good even before he was very famous
• Ross Noble - can go a bit off track, but funny nevertheless
• Lee Mack - love him
• Rich Hall - love him mo'
• Steve Coogan - a long long time ago when he was doing stand up, not great
• Jack Dee - I actually can't remember much about this one, because I was only there for the support act who was:
• Richard Morton - hardly well-known at all, but I think he's wonderful
• Steve Punt and Hugh Dennis - a double act really helps with stand up
• Bill Bailey - impressed at his musical skill as well as the surreal comedy
• Dr Phil Hammond - this is the one that my parents should see, but he doesn't seem to be touring any more
• A recording of I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue: Graeme Garden, Barry Cryer, Tim Brooke-Taylor and Tony Hawks on this occasion, with Humphrey Lyttleton - what a wonderful show that is
  
• Richard Herring - a very little gig, but it was in Leamington (reviewed here)
• Jeremy Hardy - he's a very funny man
• Sue Perkins - I expected to laugh more than I did at this one
• Linda Smith - I loved her, but sadly no longer with us
• David Mitchell and Robert Webb - Their live gig didn't grab me like their TV stuff does.

There are more, but I haven't included the ones where I remember I was there but can't remember anything else about it. I'm quite surprised, not just at the number of different comedians, but also at how clearly I remember the gigs, some of which were over 15 years ago.

Weekend: Disc Golf, Cake and Chinese food

A brief respite before I get down to work again. Two of the pieces of coursework are handed in; the next isn't due until next Friday, but I have already had a good deal of trouble with it - there's a lot to do in just a week.

So, the weekend. It was fun. Lola II and nephew Phlop were here; we made carrot cake cupcakes, which tasted OK but frankly looked quite horrible. They had slips of paper cunningly secreted beneath offering amusing topics for discussion. Many of them were not eaten, due to their unattractive appearance. We also made a lemon cake, which was both attractive and delicious, so we ate all of that one. After Disc Golf.

Disc Golf is a sport that is played a bit like golf but with small frisbees for balls and baskets for targets. I have no idea whether it is a popular well-known sport or not - there just happens to be a handy course just north of Leamington. It turned out to be a beautiful afternoon, weather was clement throughout, and rather a fun time was had by all. The boys among us performed a great deal better than the girls, and I rather surprised myself by being truly bad at it (one of my throws landed further away from the basket than where I started) but not caring. I just enjoyed it.

Supper was in the pub, which was unexpectedly hosting a Halloween party. Probably not that unexpectedly, since it was Halloween and there were signs up, but we haven't been to the pub for a while, what with my oversize workload. I rather wished that we had known in advance and planned it into the schedule, because there was dressing up, singing, dancing and friendly people, but we were in civvies and rather tired, so we ate up and left them to it.

On Sunday we were up and driving down to Lola II's house for a family Chinese meal, to celebrate mum's birthday - well, that was the excuse, but it's good to get together every now and then. After a small hitch when we discovered that the Chinese takeaway we'd used before no longer opened at weekend lunch times, an alternative supplier was found and the food was fine. Everyone forced down at least one cupcake, niece J had more than one, and we looked through the family 'treasure' and talked about what we might do with it.

The image at the top is of Lola II and a sculpture on the Disc Golf course (can you tell which is which?) I shall leave you with a classy shot of me, mid-throw, only slightly blurred, hilariously composed by Lola II. Shows my best side, I think.

Lola II is lovely

The Food and Drink Festival was a two-day event, so I was looking forward to more venues on the Taste Trail with Mr A on Sunday. But first thing, I had to check various ebay auctions I was watching, because I was still feeling the pain of my ipod loss quite acutely. Sitting at the computer in my very unconventional nightwear at 9 a.m., the doorbell rang.

I asked the fully dressed Mr A to answer the door, and five seconds later the lovely Lola II walked into my room.

"This is your Lost Ipod Support Service House Call!" she announced. "What on earth are you wearing?"

I squealed with excitement at her for at least a minute, and jumped up and down, flapping my arms. When I had calmed down a bit, she said "I also have a saucepan that needs your attention."

This was quite true. The saucepan had something firmly encrusted on it, and had resisted Lola II's attempts with various cleaning products. After enquiring of the all-knowing Interwebnet, we decided to attack it with dishwasher powder. Leaving that to do its worst, and after I had dressed, we headed out on the town, promising to phone Mr A as soon as we moved on to the free food.



We toured the stalls in the Pump Room Gardens, taking particular note of the cupcake stand and a very talkative chap selling middle eastern delicacies. I had various other tasks to complete in town, and it was too early for the Taste Trail, so we headed off. It was shortly after this that we found ourselves in Marks & Spencer. Lola II worked her magic, and hey presto! I am now equipped with a cardigan. And so is she.

So on to the free food. We were joined by Mr A, and started with Koko's, which reminded us of a school canteen. They had a mini-carvery, with a small portion of beef and half a small yorkshire pudding on a small plate, and help yourself to potatoes, peas, carrots and cabbage. I forgot to take a photo, but never mind, you can imagine a mini roast dinner served by a dinner lady.

We moved on to Sabai Sabai, which I had often thought of visiting, but I do dislike restaurants that feature a large TV screen in the bar area. Maybe I will overcome that dislike in future, because it was really very nice. Apart from the food, we all loved the display that included carrots carved into the shape of prawns, turtles and other sea creatures in a tank, surrounded by ginger, galangal, garlic and shallots. Click on the picture to see it better. You really should, it's beautiful.

There was nothing in the Taste Trail booklet that said you couldn't go to the same place twice - and Lola II hadn't been to the Restaurant in the Park, which had been the best of the day before. Except the deal didn't start until tea time. So we stopped off at the Newbold Bar and Brasserie, and stayed until they started bringing out their free wares, just so Lola II could have a taster...

The Restaurant in the Park was even better than the day before: they brought enough for all of us so we didn't even have to share this time, and there was even a brass band playing outside. We were nearly full by now, but there was one more place I wanted to try: Bohemia@Willoughby.

This establishment has transformed itself more than once in the last few years. The latest version, with its trendy new name, has large paisley patterned walls in various colours (I liked the shiny black on matt black background), mostly dark decor and interesting chairs, a large TV screen, and banging music. The TV had no sound and was showing something that might have been Eastenders. Like Koko's, it wasn't our kind of place, but let's see what they could do for us.

Both service and food were disappointing. This made us wonder who had made the decision to take part in the Festival, and why they hadn't really followed that through with a strategy to market their wares in the best possible light.

We wended our way home, but Lola II's visit didn't end there. In the next exciting episode, we discover:
- how the encrusted pan turned out
- some thrilling ipod news
- plans for our holidays
- what we all did in the pub.

To be continued...

Food and Drink Festival

I'm getting over the pain of the lost ipod. As I type this, I'm watching several different auctions on ebay, which is the most affordable replacement method. Mr A is fully appraised of the situation and my appropriation of his ipod, and apart from one misjudged attempt at humour, he has been very supportive of my plight.

One thing that always cheers me up is the lovely town I live in. Another thing is food. The past weekend has brought those together in the shape of the Leamington Spa Food & Drink Festival.



The regulars at the monthly Warwickshire farmers' market have been joined in the Pump Room Gardens by a whole load of other stalls selling all kinds of food and drink. They are also running something called the 'Taste Trail' which involves visiting restaurants around town, eating free food, and rating the experience. Not too difficult, then. Mr A was busy first thing Saturday morning, so I visited my first two establishments without him.

The first (Mumbai Bluu) supplied a little taster of pasta with salmon, which was quite nice, if a little dry. It's a lovely airy place to sit - I had thought that it was an Indian restaurant, simply by the name, but actually it isn't.



I thought that a little taster of a single dish would be the norm, but it wasn't at all. The second place (Seasons Restaurant) was very busy, but I sat outside, and I was presented with a tasting plate with all sorts of tasty bites. I imagine that normally the plate was for sharing in a group, but hey! I wasn't in a group, so I had it all to myself. The duck paté was particularly nice.

When I came home and related my tales to Mr A, he said that he thought I was just going to visit the market, and felt hard done by to have missed the tasters. So we walked out together to the Restaurant in the Park, which is in a wonderful location overlooking the river and weir and adjoining the Temperate House. There they served us two courses: a savoury and a sweet, which made up for having to share one plate between two.

It was just around the corner, and almost on the way home, so we dropped in at the Newbold as well. It would have been rude not to. This is a gastropub, so we even treated ourselves to some beer while we waiting. The format was different again - this time, waiting staff brought round big platters with either roast beef and horseradish on yorkshire pudding, or salmon on toasted baguette. The beef was done to perfection, the Spitfire beer was very fine, and we sat in the 'garden' (more like a yard, but never mind) and mused on how much we like our town.


To be continued...

Peace, man

Over the weekend it was sunny and warm, and the Leamington Peace Festival was on. A proper festival, with stalls and bands and everything, all for free and about 100 yards from our front door. All the regular stalls were there - every religion you can think of, charitable causes and pressure groups, weirdy hippy healers, clothes and hats that seem like a good idea at the time but you can only wear at other festivals, and millions of knick-knacks made from crystal, wood, glass, hemp, silver, scissors, paper, stone, gravel, porridge and elephant dung (only three of those are made up). I don't buy very much at these events, I've got enough rubbish in my house already.


I did buy a brownie from a stall that makes the best brownies I've ever tasted. I bought one last year as well. Once a year is probably enough, although they are damn good. The rest of the time I sat on the grass listening to the music, trying not to get sunburned and taking photos of interesting things. I took quite a lot of photos of hats this year.

The majority of people at these events are probably ordinary types, with proper conventional jobs and houses and families, but because this is a festival they wear the ludicrous clothes and hats that they bought at the last festival. Pink-faced, bellies bulging, tattooed arms, necks and backs (and that's just the women). Some are odd but familiar: the man who wears no shoes, corduroy trousers that are too big for him and has cotton wool in his ears was there, dancing to the music. I last saw him at a Medusa Touch gig at Kellys, long ago. My favourite, though, was the man dressed as a tap, collecting money for Water Aid. He looked so fed up, and I sympathised. It's a hell of a costume.

Mr A came with me on Sunday, but didn't really enjoy it so he went home and mowed the lawn instead. I had a lovely time, sitting on the grass or wandering about, watching people in the sunshine and listening to the music.

Spring at Lola Towers

My life fluctuates between alternate delightful and grim periods.

I did my last Visit Day as Student Ambassador for this academic year, and picked up some library books about burn injury while I was there. It was difficult to avoid the pictures, which are truly gruesome to look at, especially the colour ones. I had to open the books very carefully... Then I had a nice cup of tea and a chat with Dipti. I went to see Steve in Birmingham for a drink and a bite to eat after work - lovely to chat to him again and catch up with a bit of gossip.

Mr A and I took one of our walks around Leamington, just looking at the gorgeous buildings and spring trees around town, and it made us both feel uplifted for a short time. Magnolia trees are unbelievable - such large, beautiful flowers! The white blossom in the picture was scented too. We listened to some radio that made us laugh uncontrollably (Hamish and Dougal: You'll have had your tea...) and I made some great crab and gruyere tartlets.

To balance all the good vibes, there have been Mr A's work difficulties. He was due to go biking with some of the 'Big Trail Bike' crew around Wales this weekend, but in getting ready on Saturday he realised he wouldn't be able to cope, so he went off to spend an evening with some friends instead. I'm very glad - not only that he gets a change of scene, but that I get a break as well, and I'm not sure he'd have been entirely safe on a biking weekend with the state of his concentration at the moment.

Before you ask, there's nothing you can do. This has been going on for a long time, and I always think "it can't go on much longer" and then it does. There's always a glimmer of hope on the horizon: at the moment it's an appointment with some sort of health professional next week (I don't know the details). I hope it helps him before he has a proper breakdown. And no, really, there's nothing you can do, but thank you for asking anyway - there's very little I can do. I'm getting a lot of practice with my listening skills, so that's a positive side to the situation. No, really, I'm fine. Getting on with coursework while the house is quiet - although it's tragic to be inside on a glorious morning like this.

An eventful week

It has been an interesting time over the last week. Just as soon as I wrote that I was short of ideas for blog posts, several came along at once.

We had a visitor on Tuesday - Rich, who moved from Leamington to Munich via a very long world tour. He has endless friends who insist on getting married in different parts of the world - this time the wedding is in Dublin, and Leamington was a handy place to stop over on the way.

It was nice to see him, and an excuse to have lunch in the pub and dinner at an Indian restaurant I haven't been to before: Rasoi, at the bottom of the Parade. I really liked it, and Rasoi shall hereto be added to the long list of Things I Love About Leamington Spa. Not sure if it's better than the Paprika Club, but the taste test comparison will have to wait until we have more money to eat out.

We had dinner with some people who sang with Rich in a Warwick choir, and one of them turned out to be Nick who I already knew through badminton, and who is also one of our local Liberal Democrat Councillors. I was talking to him about the day recently when we were surveyed by both Greens and Lib Dems, and I accidentally referred to the local Lib Dem parliamentary candidate using the name of the Conservative one. They're both called Chris. It's an easy mistake to make.

After I dropped Rich off at Birmingham airport - where £1 was extorted from me simply to drop off a passenger - I carried on working. I've been spending too much time on coursework; it took the best part of three days to do one bit that's only 750 words and worth a tiny percentage of the module marks. If I don't get a move on, I won't get through it.

On Friday I drove up to Manchester with Mr A for the day. We started off by emptying the old office and moving the stuff down to the office where the staff are now based. Considering the room appeared empty except for a set of shelves before we started, we ended up completely filling the car, and it took ages. I was late for lunch with Hugh and Bernadette, who are well, but B wasn't as sparkly as she has been in the past. Maybe I had caused some inconvenience by getting there later than I'd hoped.

After that I met up with Lisa for a cup of coffee, to catch up on six months of news and to meet her lovely new daughter, who was very nearly named Lola, but not quite. I think Lisa found it amusing that I didn't want to hold Nearly-Lola - it's not just that babies don't particularly like me holding them and tend to cry, but also because she was dressed in a suit made of velvet. I really can't touch velvet, it's like fingernails down a blackboard.

Then this morning there was a knock on the front door, and Mr A opened it to find a nice young policeman who pointed out that our car window had been smashed. Mr A had left his phone inside, which was probably why the damage had been done. A bicycle was left leaning against our wall, which the policeman took away. The policeman was very good indeed, even though he can't have been more than 15 years old.

A neighbour had seen some dodgy characters running about where they shouldn't have been this morning, and it was him who phoned the police. He stopped by a bit later to talk to us. Despite having had our car damaged and a phone stolen, I really like this neighbourhood.

The phone was out of contract so Mr A is off to the shops to get another, and after a good deal of messing about with insurance policies it looks as though we will only have to pay £50 for the window to be fixed by an outfit that ought to be turning up any minute now.

I'm tired of having things to blog about now. I hope that the next month will have nothing in it but university coursework, sitting on the sofa watching DVDs, and going to the pub for a drink.

Sunday night thoughts from the sofa

Having a laptop means I can sit on the sofa, comfortable under a duvet, and tap away about life in the fast lane until Jeremy Paxman comes on to talk about Victorian Britain. Unfortunately, without a wireless modem, you have to wait some time for the blog post to appear.

It’s been busy, and it’s going to get more busy before things calm down again. I have ten separate deadlines between now and the end of term on 20 March. Four of these deadlines fall in one week. Not many are for pieces of work that are quick or easy.

But before I feel too sorry for myself, I have to feel sorry for Mr A, who continues to suffer all that the world can throw at him, knowing all too well that he has nobody to blame but himself. He also knows that I have nobody to blame but him. It really is hard on him. I don’t know how long it will take to get the business on a more secure footing, or whether he will throw in the towel and call it a day, and neither does he. He just has to endure each painful day, not knowing how or when it will end.

We have been for a few calming walks around town, through the park to the weir, stopping for a visit to the Temperate House in Jephson Gardens, then along the river and back again through the park. Or up Holly Walk to Clarke’s the vegetable shop and back via Tesco, the fishmonger and the cinema. We even went to see Slumdog Millionaire on Saturday, which was a real treat.

I still like my course rather a lot, and last week’s lectures were pretty good. Learning about disorders of metabolism such as galactosaemia and phenylketonuria and the consequences of missing enzymes in the metabolic pathways has been very interesting. It also makes me very grateful that all my enzymes are working as they should (as far as I know, anyway). We covered diseases of the cardiovascular system, and were given case studies to present to the rest of the class in workshops in a few weeks’ time: I’m in a group presenting a case of iron-deficiency anaemia in an infant.

Computing Techniques was a good choice of optional module, although it’s quite uncomfortable to attend because I’m the only one there older than 20, except the lecturers. I know a lot of things that you get to know simply because of living nearly 45 years and taking an interest in scientific subjects: how binary numbers work, chaos theory, why computers use approximation, what log tables are. I know a few things about HTML because of my hopelessly neglected website and this blog, and I know about referencing software because I took an interest last year. There hasn’t been anything too challenging so far in this module. Which is, quite frankly, a relief.

The most engaging subject this term by far has been the Communication Skills module. This week we started looking at how to conduct an effective face-to-face consultation with a patient or client – we have five weeks of practical sessions where we practise all aspects of the consultation. This first week we just covered the process from where we invite the patient into the consulting room, introduce ourselves, and start the conversation.

Again, being a little older is an advantage, and of course I’ve done this type of thing a great deal before. The difference is that previously I was not assessed or supervised or judged in any way, and more importantly, the language used is slightly different. The hardest thing of all will be trying to avoid responding with “Right,” or “OK,” which we are correctly discouraged from saying.

I'm finding it very difficult indeed to think at the same time as talking, and changing how I do things at the same time as doing them seems almost impossible. But I am reassured by the very fact that we are being taught this material with such skill and care. Getting the communication right between practitioner and patient is so important, and forging a relationship that enables difficult messages to be passed between the two is essential.

Exam results come round again

On Thursday, the day when I took these pictures, the Nottingham Uni inter-site shuttle bus service was suspended, the campus library closed at 1 p.m. and at least one of my lectures was cancelled. I'm very glad I decided not to go in . 

By Friday morning the snow had pretty much disappeared, and there was no new snowfall, despite the forecast. So I went in to school on Friday, not only for the lectures but because that was the day that we could collect our exam results from Personal Tutors. I've done well again - all five of my module marks are Firsts.

I talked to my tutor about working on research over the summer, about options for our final year projects, and about PhD research opportunities. Still some time to go before these things get decided, but it was interesting to hear what possibilities there are. Then I treated myself to an evening off!

End of term review

It's been a week since my last post, which is the biggest gap I can remember in ages (apart from when we went away on holiday). While not much has happened that is suitable for blog inclusion, there are plenty of interesting things to write about from my course. The difficulty is that to write them down properly I have to review my notes and do a bit of research, and I still don't have enough time for that. The last piece of coursework is due to be handed in next Friday; it's about the production of an orally administered Hepatitis B vaccine in potato, and I've been working on it all afternoon.

Here's a quick review of the last ten weeks or so:

• Most lectures have been interesting, and most lecturers have been good, immunology being the notable exception. It's still an interesting subject though, so I'm actually looking forward to going back and revising it.
• There have only been two practicals all term, plus we have one workshop on Friday. Luckily we've been able to choose our practical groups, and even more fortunately I've been able to work with Ally and Dipti, who are both hardworking and clever. This has meant that we've got good experimental results, and therefore high marks.
• The last week or so has been really cold, and our house is old. It's not sensible to heat the whole house during the day, so we work in Mr A's study with a fan heater. While we are both fairly resistant to cold, it is much less fun than when it's warm.
• We've done nothing about any home maintenance. The exterior and interior decoration and state of repair is shabby, poor and deteriorating, but it just doesn't get priority, because it's such a pain to organise, and neither of us enjoys it.
  
• I didn't join the university gym this year after all. Instead, I've been to an aerobics class once a fortnight, so combined with badminton club nights and matches I've been exercising sufficiently without the gym. Badminton and aerobics are much more fun than using boring treadmills and lifting weights, although I'm only just getting past the stage in aerobics where I'm going in a different direction from everyone else and still trying to coordinate arms and legs.
• The dieting regime seems to be working, although I can't be certain because I've only weighed myself once since the start. It's very dependent on state of mind - sometimes it's easy peasy to eat the right amount and stop, other times it's like the worst torture. And I can't work out how to change the state of mind from negative to positive, it just seems to happen, or not happen.
• I'm still enjoying blogging and reading other blogs, and even managed to cut down on the number of blogs in my feed reader. I'd like to write more, but I hope you appreciate quality rather than quantity.
• My new laptop is still great, I'm just getting used to a few of the new features and trying to recreate my established working methods. Sometimes the most trivial things cause problems: I have a colour scheme in Outlook to denote coursework deadlines, and all the labels changed when I moved from 2003 to 2007. I have discovered that simply connecting a second monitor is enough to provoke Vista to add it to my desktop area - it used to be possible in older versions of Windows, but it was never this easy to achieve! We still haven't done anything about the home network, but I don't often need to print anything.
• I have new specs! They are very nice, but need further adjustment because they constantly drift down my nose and drive me mad having to push them up again.
• Mr A is not so happy most of the time. He is pushing himself hard to stop his business from foundering, and has received very generous help from his friend Graham in Manchester, including the loan of a car in place of the van that has now been sold. I think it will be OK in the end, I just don't know when that time will come - I suppose I'll recognise it when it happens. It doesn't help that he picked up a cold when he was in Manchester this week.
  
• Social life: what's that? Since the party in the summer when we discovered that we do have quite a few acquaintances, we haven't seen many of them at all. Apart from family visits and one trip to the south coast, we haven't seen anyone much. It's still very pleasant to go to the pub for an hour or so every now and then, there's always someone to talk to that we vaguely know. Smurf gave me a bottle of beer from my favourite Warwickshire Slaughterhouse brewery last week, which was nice. The rest of the time we sit on the sofa under a duvet in the evenings, reading books, watching DVDs or the odd TV programme.
  
• Last Saturday Mr A and I actually went to a gig, and it was brilliant for so many reasons. Firstly, it was one of our favourite bands, Alabama 3. They aren't that well known, but we saw them first at a festival and we love all their music. Secondly, it was at a venue called The Assembly, within walking distance of our house in Leamington! That's the best part - going to a really good gig and then walking home in five minutes instead of walking back to the car through some horrible city centre and driving for ages in the middle of the night. The venue is newly refurbished and it was the first time we'd been there. One of the bar staff from The Cricketers was there, so we said hello, and discovered that he'd just been appointed Bar Manager. Five minutes later, we spotted Smurf there too - he knows the people who run the place, and in fact I think that he knows everyone in Leamington. It was a cracking gig, and we did lots of dancing.
• The regular Wednesday pub quiz attendance has ended with two of our four regulars departing for Germany when their employer moved them there. I shall be seeing Suze again soon, though, she's coming round for dinner in a couple of weeks.
• I'm looking forward to the New Year, when we're going away for a week with friends to a big house in Shropshire. Plans for 2009: first revision, then exams, and then onwards with some new modules. Life in general: keep Mr A going, keep enjoying my course and getting good marks, keep exercising, and keep the budget straight. Should be fun!
  

Social life

This blog has been a bit heavy on the university stuff for a week or two, but after such a long holiday I felt I had to put everything else on hold to focus back on studying. I'm enjoying it as much as last year, so that's good too.

Life goes on outside university, though. I wouldn't like you to think that's all I've done. I've played in a badminton match, for example. Mr A and I have been to the pub. We've watched some DVD's at home. Both of the car headlight bulbs had to be replaced, and unfortunately not at the same time.

Badminton matches with my current club are not very successful. While everyone at the club is lovely and there's none of the unpleasantness I've encountered in other clubs, it has to be admitted that the general standard is pretty low. I played a few matches for them last season, and I think my partner and I won just one game altogether (each match contains between six and nine games per pair). I doubt that this season will be any better - my partner dropped out unexpectedly shortly before the match; his replacement hadn't played at all for a few weeks and this was his second match ever. Needless to say, we hadn't played together before. A whole season of getting beaten in every game can be quite dispiriting, so I set us the target of getting 5 points in each game - and we even managed it in four out of the six games.

I haven't said much about the pub recently, but it continues to be successful. There are regular music nights and quiz nights, wine tastings and other events, most of which we avoid in favour of a quiet pint. One evening a clairvoyant had set up shop in one corner, but had no customers at all in the hour or so that we were in the pub (she should have known that would happen...) Smurf continues to take care of a small range of very good beers, currently Timothy Taylor's Landlord, Wells' Bombadier, and Saddleback beer from the local Slaughterhouse brewery in Warwick. Of course there's always a bit of sport, and Smurf warned us that for the match against Kazakhstan today he will be wearing a Borat-style mankini. I sincerely hope that he won't.

Our subscription to Lovefilm provides as many DVDs as we need - and we have over 150 titles on our online waiting list - they are sent through as we return previous titles. Mr A's choices are either black and white classics or war films or both, and I encourage him to watch them when I'm out. My choices are more suitable for both of us - we've recently watched The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (good), Mississippi Burning (very good), The Bourne Ultimatum (good), Wait Until Dark (OK) with Audrey Hepburn playing a blind woman, and Sweeney Todd with Johnny Depp. Actually, Mr A didn't hang around for Sweeney Todd, too much singing (it's a musical). I liked it, although there was a bit too much graphic throat-cutting. We're also getting through all the episodes of M*A*S*H, right from the very first season.

And I've been to an aerobics class in Leamington, which was great fun, even if it seems to have crippled me further. To be able to use the campus gym I now need to buy silver sports membership rather than bronze, and even though the price is subsidized for students, I'm not there for half the year. If I can play badminton once or twice a week and go to an aerobics class every week, I'd much rather do that than sweat on a treadmill or static cycle.