Summer Diary 2013. Week Nine.
Friday August 30th.
I got my head down as soon as the meal was cleared away and
slept like a baby almost until we hit Dubai. It was pretty late in the evening
[or early morning]. Once back on the ground in Dubai, I did the ceremonious
removal of my Aussie sim card [it was only a $1.99 throw away one – it is the
easiest way to use your phone out there] and threw it into a bin in the airport
lounge. I put my UK sim back in and am all ready for life back in that tiny,
insignificant little island on the western edge of Europe. There was a fair
wait at the airport for my connection but I was able to trade up the gold
chains from my two Lapis Necklaces for more substantial ones and was hardly out
of pocket on the deal, which is pretty good. [There is a huge gold trading area
in departure lounge.] That was the only shopping I actually did in Duty Free.
Luck continued on the flight to Glasgow, my upgrade to
Business had followed me through. Rah, rah, rah. I spent most of my time at the
airport in the Business Class lounge. We took off in the early hours, Dubai
time, and pretty soon the sunrise caught up with us and we had all of the
flight home in daylight. The views as we flew over Europe were quite stunning.
Even boring old Britain looked pretty good from 35,000 feet. Glasgow was a bit
grey and gloomy [I don’t mean the buildings, I mean the weather!] Laura was
waiting at the arrivals entrance and I am afraid we had a major snog there and
then, in the middle of Arrivals, and damn the consequences or people’s
reactions. Some dozy Americans who were passing as we engaged in our long kiss
went, “Wooo! Way to go girls!” That was
a little embarrassing.
Loll had a surprise waiting for in the car park: she’d
brought Callie up to fetch me too. Her little stumpy tailed wagged so quickly I
thought she might wag it off. I wanted to drive my car again, so we zoomed out
of the airport and found the nearest exit south where there was some land to
give Callie a brief walk. You miss people when you are away but you don’t
realise [well I didn’t] just how much you miss your pets. Once she had greeted
me at the airport Callie went back to just being the dog who happened to hang
around with that blonde woman again. She walked along as though I had been away
for a few hours, not a few months! [Well, almost two months.]
Loll filled me in on all the gossip from home, some of which
she had told me already over the internet but I wasn’t bothered about hearing
it again. I told her about the flight and my last few days in Oz and how I had
booked us both in with Suze and Co next summer. I wasn’t going to take no for
an answer! Driving down the motorway is relatively stress free so we drove
holding hands for most of the way. Cute or what? Callie did her daft dog thing
of putting her head between my head and the door frame and resting her chin on
my shoulder. She normally only does that when I am alone in the car.
It took us about three hours to get back to Dad’s house. He
and Louisa were out for the day, in Lancaster, so as soon as we got home Laura
and I went straight to my bedroom. We were in there for a good two hours and
made up for lost time, several times over. Dad phoned us while we were lying,
rather shell-shocked after trying out the double ender [I will not elaborate]
and told us he was almost at Cockermouth and did Laura and I want an Indian
Takeaway. I hadn’t had a “British Indian” for over nine weeks so we said, “Yes
please!” We were still lying in a post-orgasmic stupor when we heard the screech
of the drive gates as they swung open, so I rushed into the shower and Laura
threw on some clothes and headed off to meet the parents.
Indian food over here tastes so different from the way it is
does in Oz; I suppose it must be all down to the way it’s prepared in
Australia. I am not lying when I say it was a brilliant idea of Dad’s to get
this, I was pretty hungry and demolished my main, all my portions of the shared
sides and one complete naan bread too!
I don’t feel jet lagged coming back from Oz, I suppose it is
because the journey pattern sort of follows your normal circadian rhythms. We sat and chatted for ages, Loll and I
snuggled together on one sofa, Louisa and Dad on the other one. They are so
looking forward to going out to Suze’s at Christmas, I was really tempted to
say I’d join them, but that’s just silly!
They’d been to Lancaster as Dad had got wind, on the jungle
telegraph, that he was going to lose his office. It is true! They have made him
share with another lecturer as his tenure is only for two more years. He was quite angry about it but it seems
there is nothing he can do. He said he will go and look at Curtin University
properly when he’s out in Oz at Christmas to see if he can’t actually get something
out there after all! I won’t hold my breath. We were going to have a Skype with
family straight after our tea, but it was pretty late for them out there, so we
sent several e-mails and [hopefully] arranged a chat for the morning - our
time; Saturday afternoon, their time.
I can’t believe all the bollox about Syria that’s going on
over here. Why the fcuk does wanker Cameron want to drag us into another
middle-eastern conflict? I was appalled at the bellicose rubbish he was
spouting on the TV news this evening. That is so much the problem with many
British people, I find, they think they still have an empire and some influence
on what happens in the world. We fcuking don’t, get used to it! What I have
been hearing [and reading in Dad’s copies of the Times from the past few days]
is almost bloody suicidal. If anything is likely to trigger a third world war,
it is this! I’d hate to think that civilisation on this planet of ours was
destroyed by some fcuking stupid politician’s hubris! I am so pleased the
commons decided they didn't want to take any action against Syria.
The pressies I brought for the three of them [Loll, Dad
& Louisa] were joyously received. Dad is not quite sure he wants be a
Fremantle Dockers fan, but I told him he has no choice in the matter. The Lapis
necklace brought tears to Loll’s eyes. She isn’t as soppy as me, to be honest,
and isn’t readily given to blubbing. It is a gorgeous piece of jewellery
though, even without its symbolic significance for us. Louisa thought her Lapis
earrings were gorgeous.
We hit the charp at about 11 pm when I couldn’t keep my eyes
open any longer. Even Laura’s ministrations couldn’t arouse me, so she promised
to wake me with something nice in the morning.
Annabelle’s note: I love you so much. I have told Mum that
you are now officially My Number Two Mummy. It’s been magic having you here for
so long. I can’t wait for you to come back next winter. 310 – that’s the number of days I’ll have to wait
until you come back. I will e-mail you every day with another number.
Saturday 31st August.
If Laura and I carry on at this rate I won’t be able to
walk! Richard and I stayed for one Easter vacation at University instead of
going home and we spent all of the Easter weekend in bed. My furry bit was so sore
on the Tuesday morning. We had spent the time just bonking, eating, sleeping
and bonking. I forbade him to come near me for a couple of days just so I could
stop walking around like an invalid. It did give me time to perfect my oral
techniques though. [Too much information? What the hell]
I can’t believe this morning’s Times. It has printed one of
my favourite walks in Cumbria in the Weekend Section. Oh No! It will be overrun
with grockles now! They even used my favourite pub in the whole wide world as
the walk’s starting point and place to eat. Arrrgghhh! You’ll never get a place
to sit and eat there now, either. It’s the walk from the Kirkstile Inn [Loweswater]
over Mellbreak and back along the Lake shore of Crummockwater. I walk Callie on
this route about once every 6 weeks, it is a really good introduction to the Lakes
and not too demanding. The climb up Mellbreak is steep, admittedly, but from
then on it’s a doddle.
After Loll had zoomed off to work I set about cleaning my
bedroom. It isn’t all that untidy but I haven’t been here for two months so it
has got a bit dusty, I think Dad must’ve told Molly not to bother cleaning in
there. [I don’t think he quite understands housework, TBH.]
I found another note in my fleece pocket this time, from
Annabelle. “I love you, Aunt Vicki. I want to be just like you when I grow up!”
Just was underlined about a dozen times. I’m not sure whether to be flattered
or worried. Just like me can mean so many things, can’t it? My major concern is
that my niece may be having sexual feelings for me. That would be unbearable.
She’s only 12 though, so maybe I am reading too much into it. [Although, Loll
has told me that she knew she was gay at about the time puberty kicked in, and
I know Annabelle has started her periods. Gulp!]
After Skyping Big Sis in Oz as planned, Dad took us climbing
in Borrowdale this morning. Suze’s big
news – this arvo Fremantle fielded a weakened side as they have already made
the AFL finals and they got stuffed by St. Bloody Kilda! 112 vs 41. I hope they
don’t get fined for fielding what was virtually their second team! I mean, St
Kilda! They are miles down the ladder!
The climbing was brilliant but my arms are so out of
practice, at one point, on a particularly tricky pitch the muscles started
wobbling! I am so glad I refused the option of lead climbing. Gilbert came along
with us and I was able to commiserate with him over his dog. He has already got
himself another one lined up. It is four weeks old at the moment – another
Chocolate Lab - which he’s going to train to the gun! Good for him. I am
thinking of getting Callie a companion dog so I will not miss her passing, when
the inevitable happens. Gilbert said it is the best way to cope. Having a
second dog lessens the sting of your loss.
Louisa is getting much more proficient at climbing than she
was. She still has a tendency to scrawm [use her knees and elbows] rather a
lot. That is quite common with beginners though. The Shepherd’s Crag Café
didn’t let us down for lunch, having a huge steak and kidney pie tray bake on
offer. It was delish. They had a tray bake apple crumble too which was an
excellent dessert to follow the snake and pigmy. I can’t believe how they can
charge so little for such amazing good food. After lunch we went a bit further
up the valley to Langstrath Dale, past the pub of the same name in Stonethwaite,
and scrambled about there for a while too. (This was more for Louisa’s benefit
rather than mine, I think.) There are some great pools in the beck along this
valley for swimming in when the weather permits. Not today though, it was a bit
breezy in the wind whipping down from Great End.
I am off down to Sheffield tomorrow evening and I am not
sure how long I’ll be there. If what Dad says is true I could be back up at his
place by Tuesday! Once I know what my timetable and hours are I will call in at
the solicitors’ and arrange my hours there. Tim (Mr Carr) told me to report
directly to him with this when I knew. I think he might not want it to become
common knowledge just yet. I don’t know why though, if that is the case. The
Head of Archives, Records and Retrieval – to give it its posh name – already
knows I’ll be putting some hours in, so why Mr C wants it discrete I can’t say.
Mrs Briggs even sent me an e-mail while I was out in Oz saying she was looking
forward to having me back. [She does sort of mother me a little. Which is so
cute.]
To be honest, I really want to get back and see my little
house again. It will have missed me I’m sure. There has been no-one giving it
TLC for nearly two months, the poor thing will be starting to feel unloved and
neglected. I tried to describe it to the kids in Oz but they have no reference
points for what a terrace of houses is, so I am not sure they can quite picture
it. I had a long chat with Julie last evening [neighbour in the next house
along] and she was pleased to hear from me and glad I’m coming back. They had
decided I must have emigrated or something. I could’ve sworn I’d told them I’d
be two months.
We had a chuckle at her news that at the beginning of August she
thought I had got burglars as she could hear footsteps on my stairs. She
dispatched Andy round armed with a poker from their fire to confront them.
[That was really, really brave.] Except it turned out to be my brother, his
wife and two sprogs who had come down to spend a weekend there and go into the
Peak District walking. I’d asked them to do it so that I didn’t invalidate my
house insurance having it empty for so long. What is even more interesting is
that Phil has neglected to tell me how he was nearly brained by a fire iron by
next door neighbour. He has e-mailed several times and we even Skyped twice!
Maybe he’s an embarrassed burglar.
Other good news is that Steve [neighbour from two houses
above] took upon himself to give my garden a tidy up and had cut the little
lawn for me once a week. How kind is that? I’ve brought all the people in my
row of houses, that I have dealings with, some Bush Art wall plaques as a
pressie for keeping an eye out for my property. I’ve bought Julie some Lapis
jewellery too, earring and matching pendant. I will have to buy Steve a litre
of whisky to thank him for the gardening. He likes whisky.
Luckily there isn’t really much garden, the front is all
gravel and I use it as a car park. [I can fit my car (Kia Picanto) Mum’s car (Audi
A3) and Phil’s car (Citroen Xsara Picasso) nose to tail on the front piece!] The
only growing things out back are a set of raised flower beds, filled with
lavender and a small lawn [about 8 feet by 30] Callie uses it as her toilet
when I let her out first thing in the morning before we go for our walk. The
rest is: steps up to the garden proper – it’s on a slight slope which starts
about four feet higher than the back door – there’s a patio area at the top of
the steps up to the garden. These steps are pretty spectacular as they cover
the whole width of the garden (15 feet) and make the rise up to it seem less
abrupt. [There used to be a four foot wall there and just a small set of steps.
In the spring after I moved in I set about changing all this, with the help of
Steve, Ken and Andy, Phil and a little man whom I paid to do the concreting. I
filled a huge skip with the rubble and soil from the wall and space behind it.
It has made the garden seem much more open. My hands had blisters for weeks
afterwards even though I’d worn garden gloves!] The whirligig drier is up there,
on the patio, the little lawn and then a shed and greenhouse beyond the lawn. A
final raised bed at the very back makes part of the boundary wall and has a
gate in to the huge field behind the house, stretching all the way up the
hamlet of Onesacre.
The fence between me and Muriel & Ken belongs to them;
the one between me and Julie & Andrew is mine. That’s a stone wall.
Alongside this wall is a path which runs the length of the garden. The raised
beds are about two foot six high and made from similar stones to my wall. The
neat and tidy garden is one of the features which made me fall in love with the
house. I have been planning to turn a couple of the raised beds [there are
seven altogether] into vegetable plots – especially when Loll comes to stay. The
small bedroom, bathroom and skylight window in the attic overlook the garden.
My bedroom and the attic dormer window are at the front and overlook the Don
Valley and Grenoside Woods.
That was “Through the Keyhole” with Victoria Jay.
Back at Dad’s, Loll came round after having had her tea at
her Mum and Dad’s and then we had another sunggly-up night on the sofa watching
decent TV. Australian TV is dire, although not as bad as American! Actually we
were catching up on stuff Dad had recorded – mainly the dramatization of
Philipa Gregory’s “The White Queen”. Only seven episodes to go now! From what I
remember of the book it seems fairly faithful to it. The woman playing
Elizabeth Woodville is very pretty, although to be true to historical facts she
had to be!
I felt tired on the sofa but up in the bedroom I was
invigorated again and Laura and I spent another couple of hours making up lost
time.
Sunday 1st September.
Woo Hoo. Lying in bed with my babe is brilliant. Even Dad
seems cool with us. He knocked on the door at about 9am asking if we two wanted
a cuppa. A huge Yes greeted him and he was instantly there with a tray and two
mugs of tea. That’s what I call service. He’d made us two without thinking and
decided to bite the bullet and bring them up to us. Good job we weren’t wrist
deep in each other, eh? [God, doing that is so amazing, but I digress.] His
daughter and her girlfriend were demurely dressed in their PJs probably looking
a bit tousled, but I am glad he felt able to come into my room while I had
someone in bed with me. He never did that when I had Richard staying over. Of
course I was still a teenager or in my early twenties then. [Although why that would have made a difference, I can't say. I'll stop speculating...]
He and Louisa and his sailing buddies are off to Belfast for
a few days. They are sailing from Whitehaven this arvo. He wanted to ask if I
could possibly drive them to the harbour. Alterior motive after all. He’s
taking his three dogs to the kennels this morning and if I come back up during
the week could I collect them? That seems only fair, so I agreed.
Louisa cooked Sunday lunch, a huge gammon joint. We had
enough to make their boat sink when crossing the Irish Sea. After a suitable
pause I drove them down to Whitehaven at about 2.30. Back at Tallentire Loll
had a surprise waiting. While I have been away, in Oz, she went down to the Ann Summers
shop in Carlisle and has bought a “strap-on”. I have heard about these things
but never seen one. You wear it like a pair of panties, it has a belt which
buckles and this pretty hideously coloured imitation penis sticks out of the
front. There is an attachment you can fit which stimulates your own clitoris
while using it but she was keen to try it straight away without that bit. The
penis has obviously been moulded from a real guy and must be at least 7” long.
I couldn’t wrap my thumb and second finger round it.
Laura wore it first and we fucked all over Dad’s house. She
had some lubricant which came with it, but to be honest I was dripping before
she even attempted to enter me. The kitchen table is an ideal height for me to
sit on and her to enter, so is the piano in the lounge. Leaning against the
front hall window-sill is great for doggy and the conservatory felt very
exposed, like having sex in a goldfish tank but we did it there too. I kept
making her stop when I could feel myself getting close and we moved to
somewhere else. I eventually couldn’t hold back the tide on the top step of the
stairs [it’s a dormer bungalow] and I screamed my head off. Loll was a bit
surprised by this, I have to admit. You can’t really let rip in a house with
other people in it, or at mine which has two shared walls! So giving a good
scream was a welcome release.
Once I had got my heart rate back to a non-life threatening
level it was Laura’s turn to receive it. She didn’t need the lube either. We
tried new positions again all over the house. Her self-restraint, or self-control,
maybe, isn’t as good as mine and she came on the third position. She was
covered in sweat though and her hair had gone really lank. Her only words were,
“God, That was amazing!” It bloody was! I hope it hasn’t given her an appetite
for the real thing. I don’t imagine it will have.
All of this threw my plans out by a couple of hours and I
didn’t set of for Sunny Sheff until about 8pm. This meant I arrived at dusk and
will have to wait until tomorrow to give my house and grounds a full
inspection. I don’t have to be at work
until 10 apparently, so this shouldn’t be a problem. Julie had even thought to
put my big torch on charge for me, so I had a good light with which to walk
Callie for her last walk of the day. Richard was still stood on my bedside
table smiling that gorgeous smile at me. I wondered how different my life would be if
I hadn’t lost him. I also thought about the last time we had done for real what
Loll and I did this afternoon. All that was missing from what Laura and I did was her pulling out at the
last minute so I could drink the semen. Maybe that’s all I miss from sex with
guys, the taste of their ejaculate. Who knows?
Monday September 2nd.
I am a fully-fledged member of staff. My swipe card has been
activated. I have a dedicated parking spot [well, it’s the office’s spot so if
I get there first it’s mine, as two of us are sharing the office – which is
tiny]. I have been given a whole load of pin numbers for different doors and
files and stuff; so much so I have had to use my phone as an aide memoire,
using fake contact names and prefacing each pin with the 86 number. I was also
given a work schedule from my supervisor and a teaching rota list. My topics
are mainly Ecclesiastical History, their Records and Accounting and other
incidental Mediaeval Minutiae which often get overlooked when dealing with the
monarchs of the time. This should prove to be fun. I am only doing three a week which could be a good thing. I’m not sure yet. I am not as nervous as I
expected to be. I suppose when reality bites I will get the butterflies as
usual.
I was told I don’t need to do anything else, apart from
submit materials until Freshers’ Week. Rah rah rah.
I spent the arvo with Mr Carr and Mrs Briggs at my other
work’s work. They have gone over my schedule with me and we have looked at all
the possibilities. It boils down to this: I can do three half days which will
count as 14 hours and they have offered a pro-rata reduction in what I was
earning if that was OK by me? I was doing 22 hours before on about £17K, I have
been offered £11K (just under) for these new hours. I have bitten their hand
off. They wanted me to start as soon as possible but I lied about having stuff
to do this week at Uni so I start on the 16th. That Monday afternoon is my first
session back there, being an Archivist again. I am so looking forward to both
things. I hope mixing the two doesn’t mess up either.
I bumped into Chris {Smith} on the stairs and he was like a
bloody puppy. He was so pleased to see me! It was a bit embarrassing. He hadn’t
got the DVD of the Nigel Kennedy Prom at work but he has promised to bring in
and leave it in his desk until I am back proper! I asked him if he could do me
a favour and find out the name of the woman we had defended against Tax Evasion
last year. I said it was to do with research I was doing at Uni. His little
puppy tail was wagging so much he didn’t even question it. As he has my e-mail
address he has promised to e-mail it to me.
I called Loll at work and told her the Uni news and said I’d
be back tomorrow evening. I spent the last part of the afternoon and early
evening going for a brief stroll around the own centre. I hadn’t realised how
much I missed this place, and just how dirty it is compared to Australia! I’ve
got hold of copies of the new season's guides for the Crucible/Lyceum theatres; the Classical
Concert Season at the City Hall and the events schedule for the Cathedral. I am
pretty sorted.
I ate my dinner at the Italian in the village with Julie and
Andrew as another thank you for looking out for my little house. The owner of
the restaurant is keen to get Loll stared here. I told him when fresher’s week
was and when she’d be down to stay. [He thinks we are just friends from
Cumbria, so I am not going to disillusion him.] He seemed happy with that.
Other shocking news – Kaybers is pregnant. I am not sure if
this is good news or bad. It is obviously good news for her and Jan. It may be
bad news for me and her. Most of my other school friends who had children and I
have sort of drifted apart. It will mean she and Jan will be off to Norway a
lot more to visit Jan’s parents. I hope we don’t drift apart. Maybe I can
become an unofficial (subversive) auntie to this new little sprog. That would
be good. We spent ages on the phone discussing the impending birth which she thinks will be in April. To be honest this news has sort of knocked the stuffing out of me a little. What will I do when my best friend becomes a Mum?
Callie chased a bloody rabbit this evening on our last walk
of the day. I can’t believe it. The bad dog! I hope this isn’t something she
has picked up from being at Dad’s for the summer. She can’t do stuff like that
when we are out shooting. I will have to give Dad a severe talking to, if he
has let it happen on his watch. Fortunately, a loud shout of, “No!” was enough
to stop the miscreant puppy in her tracks. I then had to do the
counter-intuitive thing with dogs, praising her for what she’d just done well
rather than wanting to scold her for running after the rabbit. A lot of people
don’t get that with dog training. Dad is a case in point with his dogs. Speaking
of Dad, I had a text in the early hours of this morning telling me they’d just
moored in the Belfast marina. I had forgotten to leave the phone down stairs
and the text alert noise nearly gave me a heart attack! That seems quite a
short time for a crossing, but who am I to say really.
I shall do some more pottering about tomorrow before setting
off for Cumbria in time to pick little Loll up from work.
Tuesday 3rd September.
I was up with the larks and walking the woof before the
world had even stirred. It felt good to be back into the routine. Even if it is
for only one day.
I zoomed off to the pool straight afterwards, as usual, and
was greeted as a long lost friend by Sarah. She is the receptionist and
duty manager morning. She thought I had moved away. I explained what I’d been
doing and told her starting in the next week or two I’d be back to my regular 6
days a week swim. Intro week begins on 23rd of September so I’ll be
here the weekend before that at the very latest. We talked quite animatedly for
ages. If I didn’t know better I’d have said there may have been some sexual
interest there, perhaps I was imagining it. She was far more tactile towards me
than she’s ever been before. Perhaps it was just that she has genuinely missed
me for the last two months. We had such a long chat I only did 50 lengths
rather than my 100. Although as it was the first time back that was probably a
good idea as a hundred cold may have knackered me out.
She is dead keen to come to the quiz on the Last Thursday
nights at the pub, so I have given her my number and e-mail and we’ll get in contact
nearer the time. She does seem really nice and very friendly.
Callie was sitting on the driver’s seat when I got back to
the car, after my swim. That is another thing she hasn’t done before. I wonder
what other bad habits she’s picked up while she’s been at my Dad’s. I think the
Aged Parent is definitely in for a bit of a telling off.
I walked her through town this morning. She loves meeting
and greeting people and loads of people stop and talk to you when you are out
with your dog. We went to the City Hall and bought tickets for the Halle on the
20th with Sir Mark Elder: Dvorak, Beethoven PC 4 and Enigma Variations!
What a programme! I have provisionally booked all the concerts for the season, but the Britten War Requiem
which I detest. That makes 8 concerts in total.
We then went to the Theatre and bought tickets for The
Winter’s Tale. Exiting the theatre pursued by a bear! That’s for in October
some time. I last saw this at the Theatre Royal Stratford upon Avon, years and
years ago.
I then had a swift stroll through the Peace Gardens but
Callie and I weren’t allowed in the Winter Garden, which was a bummer. I left
her outside the main library and took out a copy of the Dvorak we’ll be hearing
in a fortnight – The Water Goblin. We strolled all the way down The Moor and
then back to the Victoria Station multi-storey where I usually park if I come
into town. I am not looking forward to the Market redevelopment as it’ll close
it for ages and I like shopping in there for green groceries and meat.
As we
passed Primark I popped in and found some brilliant matching bra and pants sets for
silly money, so I bought myself a dozen! [I know, it is a bit extravagant, but
I checked the bra fitting in the changing rooms, and at the price they are a
steal.] I’ll bring Laura here when she arrives, she doesn’t know what a
Primark is. There isn’t one in Carlisle or Cumbria as a whole. I’ll treat her
to a wardrobe. Or does that sound awfully patronising? It does, doesn’t it?
We set off for Wigton at about 2.30 getting to Laura’s works
door at exactly 5pm. How good was that?
Loll quite fancied going to the cinema so tonight we went to
see We’re the Millers. It was on at the Plaza in Workington. It was passable. I
think it confirmed that I don’t like Jennifer Aniston at all. It was mildly
funny I suppose. I quite liked the look of About Time but that starts tomorrow
and like a typical pair of airheads we just turned up at the cinema. We did get
chatted up by a pair of blokes who obviously fancied their chances. They were
complete thickos though! They couldn’t get their heads round the fact that
Laura is studying Pure and Applied Maths at University or that I was a PhD student.
They didn’t even know what a PhD. was at first! OMG. If that is typical of West
Cumbrian males then no wonder Laura prefers women!
Dad texted from Ireland to say ‘read your e-mails’. He had
sent a huge e-mail asking me to do a long list of things for him. Arrrggghhhh!
Parents, eh? I have to arrange for the builder to be admitted on Thursday, he’s
going to fix the leaking roof in the Atrium. There are four letters and a
parcel in Dad’s office which need posting which he forgot to tell me. He’s sent
a shopping list of stuff to buy on Saturday morning for when they return from
Ireland. There’s money in the tin on his bookshelf. He often leaves money for
things in there. It is shaped like a copy of Dickens’ Hard Times. In it is the
money to pay the gardener on Thursday too and for the dog kennel fees and also
for the shopping. I have been instructed to shop at Booth’s in Keswick as they
have been having Brown Brothers Dolcetto Syrah wine in, and if they I have I am
to get him another case!
He normally gets Molly to do all this stuff [that’s Laura’s
Mum and Dad’s cleaner] but as I am home doing nothing (!) he has asked me
instead. I wondered how Molly has put up with him all these years. I mulled
this question over out loud after reading my e-mail. Loll says it’s because she
loves him. She always has done. I thought she was joking at first but it
appears she was deadly serious. Laura’s Mum has had a thing for Dad since I was
a little girl. That has to be one of the biggest Oh My God moments for ages. I
asked her if Dad knew and she said she didn’t think so. It is quite a shock to find out secrets like
that. I asked her if there were any more revelations she thought I ought to
know. It seems there were no more about my family but the scandal in the
village is an eye-opener!
I had better collect Dad’s dogs from the kennel tomorrow. I
had completely forgotten today. Still there should be enough money in the tin
to cover an extra. Callie thinks she’s queen of the castle without them here.
We were very lovey dovey after our evening shower and tried
out some body butter massage cream on each other. Mmmm…. I was fine while Laura
massaged my back [OK I did get a bit moist] but when she asked me to turn over
and she began on my front…. I am afraid I didn’t get to play at being a
masseuse on Laura; we were much too busy for quite a long time. It will be my
turn to massage Laura tomorrow night.
Wednesday September 4th.
They say there is no rest for the wicked, then I must
certainly be wicked. I drove Loll to work and then picked up Dad’s dogs on the
way back. I almost fell through the floor when they told me the price. I
actually went, “How Much!?” Luckily I had grabbed the entire bundle of notes
from Hard Times or I’d have been snookered. I was planning on only taking out a
couple of twenties. Phew.
I dropped all three back at Dad’s where they met the new
queen of the castle, who had suddenly become another serf again! I swapped
Dad’s tank for my little Kia and zoomed to Kewsick. I decided not to take all
four dogs with me as that could have proved troublesome. We [Callie and I]
parked up at the Lakeside car park and headed off up the valley for Walla Crag.
It was a surprisingly mild day, despite the weather forecast for grotty weather
up north. Great Wood car park was just filling up and we met another
Weimaraner. He was called Bruno and he was a huge bruiser of a dog. He tried to
sniff Callie’s bits and she snapped at him. Good dog! The man, woman and little
boy [about 8] were also going up Walla Crag. They seemed quite friendly, so I
told them I’d lead the way if they wanted as that was where I was going before
I went shopping. Bruno and Callie just ignored each other the whole time.
They were new to the Lakes and were only too pleased to get
some ‘local’ knowledge. When we came to the path fork I offered them the choice
of the short sharp shock to the top or the roundabout route via Ashness Bridge,
the decided they wanted to go via the bridge and take some photographs [it is
one of the most photographed spots in the Lakes because of the marvellous views
over Derwentwater and Skiddaw]. Leigh, Jenny and Tommy were really pleased at
being shown the route and having things pointed out to them on the way. They
were very impressed by the way I was able to tell them the name of every Fell
they pointed to me and its height in feet. I could pass on snippets of other
knowledge too, like how our cat Jopplety was named after one of the many
summits of Grange Fell in front of us on the way to the bridge. [Mum’s cat
really, he used to hate me, I think!] I told them how Bleaberry Fell – to our
right as we made our way up Walla Crag after the bridge - had brilliant views over two valleys but was
the boggiest fell top I have ever been on.
From Walla Crag I was able to point out where the Castle
Rigg stone circle was and how it was a brilliant place to visit in the early
evening. We stopped for a bite at the top of Walla Crag, they’d brought
sandwiches and I had brought a drinks bottle and some fruit in my bum bag. The
family have been up here since last Saturday and are going back to Stoke on
Trent this Saturday. I am not normally around little boys much but Tommy did
the walk without a fuss and never once complained [my only reference point is
Phil and Jane’s little one Peter, who was 9 in July]. The dog Bruno took its
lead from Callie where sheep are concerned and studiously ignored them.
We came down off Walla Crag with Blencathra in front of us
and I was able to tell them that I was on the summit last year when a group of
Danish people arrived there too. The clouded had descended and the visibility
was almost zero. They asked me if I’d take a picture of them at the summit, so
I asked them what they wanted in the background? [Scotland, The Pennines,
Clough Head or Grizedale Pike?] They had no idea what I was taking about. The
joke was on them because I stayed at the summit for about an hour. I always do,
what’s the point of all that effort if you just turn around and go back down?
During that hour the cloud lifted and those four places became visible again.
Half way down the route into Keswick I had to say goodbye to
the trio, as their path branched off to the left while mine carried straight
on. It was market day in town, I had known it would be so Callie and I had a
wander but once again I resisted the temptation to spend. We strolled back to
the car and moved it round to Booth’s car park where I bought a case of
Dolcetto Syrah for Dad. I knew if I waited until Saturday it would be gone.
£108 for 12 bottles of wine! That works out cheaper than what Mum and I were
paying at Margaret River, buying the wine straight from the source. Even with
their 25% reduction for buying a case! How the hell can Brown Brothers do it?
I had a long shower and then fetched Laura back from work.
She has given her notice for the 13th so we will probably go down to
Sheffield on Saturday 14th. It was my turn to try the massage body
butter tonight. I had no idea what I was doing but Loll seemed to enjoy it. She
hadn’t the chance to turn over as I started massaging her little jewel while
she was face down and we didn’t get much further. I promised I would do her
front tomorrow night. [Well, what do you expect? It had started to open
slightly by itself and was glistening with wetness. I just couldn’t stop
myself.]
I get why Dad wanted more of the wine, we opened a bottle
with our dinner, it is delicious. It’s a little bit on the sweet side for a red
and quite light, but yummy nonetheless. Dinner was Sea Bass, taken from Dad’s
freezer last night. It was also really tasty.
Thursday 5th September.
Dad's builder turned up at 7.30 this morning so I was able to have Maia’s Railway Adventure day. I have left the chap the instructions which Dad gave me and explained about the door locking if I am not back before he's finished. He was almost drooling at the sight of two blonde girls alone in the house. Where did Dad find this guy?
I dropped Little Loll at Wigton then parked up at the
railway station and caught the train to St Bees. I bought a return ticket even
though I wouldn’t be getting back on at St Bees, but at Whitehaven! It was
cheaper than buying two singles. How mad is that as a pricing policy? My plan?
To walk the coastal route from St Bee’s to Whitehaven along the cliff top path,
passing the St Bee’s Head Lighthouse.
The train was quite busy as it was going towards Sellafield
and lots of shift workers were on the thing [I assumed they were shift
workers]. Sadly, the windows were really grimy and the view out wasn’t so hot.
When the train stopped at Aspatria I rushed out on to the platform armed with a
hand full of wet paper towels I’d taken from the toilet and I proceeded to
clean the window by my seat. Everyone who could see what I was doing then asked
me to clean their bit too. I couldn’t do them all as the train pulled out after
less than two minutes.
This made the view more interesting at least. Just after
Aspatria we went past the spot where Gilbert’s dog was killed by a train! It is
very sad to think about. A lot of the “Sellafield” workers got off at Maryport
and even more in Workington, so my assumption was wrong. At Workington the
seats on the sea-ward side of the train, opposite me, were vacated so Callie
and I shuffled across to those. The window wasn’t quite as dirty as the other one
had been, but there was no way I could clean it.
All in all it took almost an hour to get to St. Bee’s. The
weather was a bit undecided: grey sky, lowish clouds but still with a mild
breeze. We walked down to the sea front and I bought a mug of tea [to go] from
the beach café and a bacon buttie. I sat on the steps to the beach while Callie
let off some steam chasing around on the beach. I’d got the ball wanger, so she
went and retrieved the tennis ball I kept flinging on to the beach for her. She
just loves doing that.
After I’d finished my second breakfast we set off for
Whitehaven. The only bit of climbing on this walk is getting onto the cliff
tops at St. Bee’s, after that it is fairly flat all the way. The climb up is a
doddle and took us under five minutes. There is a newish looking viewpoint
marker at the top, where the path levels off, and it had optimistically pointed
out where the Isle of Man was, and the Mull of Galloway – all invisible in the
low cloud on the horizon. That was a shame really.
After a few minutes walking we came across another new
structure. It was a shelter which was probably built on the site of the old
look out station for the coast-guard. We soldiered on northwards and eventually
came to the first dip and climb on the walk, when the path took us down to the
beach at Fleswick Bay. This is only accessible on foot or from the sea. Sadly
it is all pebbles and not good to walk on. We went down to the water’s edge and
Callie had a swim, fetching the tennis ball out of the Irish Sea. She just
loved that. We had a look in the cave but it was just dismal and filled with
flotsam, not really exciting at all. I bet if I was 10 again it would have been
brilliant! I made Callie go into the stream
which runs down to the bay to wash the salt water out of her coat, she wasn’t
as keen on that bit!
Lunch stop was at St. Bee’s head lighthouse itself. It isn’t
open to the public and is very squat, a bit like the Cape Naturaliste one I
visited with Mum back in Oz a few weeks ago. I guess being on the top of two
hundred foot cliffs there is no need to build a tall light. The ruins of the
WW2 radar station are still visible – all red bricks and rusting iron window frames.
The fog horn was just alongside it and this is still a working feature although
the day wasn’t foggy enough to warrant its use. In fact the clouds on the
horizon had started to lift by the time we’d finished lunch. Parts of Southern
Scotland were appearing like ghostly shadows out of the clouds to the north.
The Isle of Man was still being shy, however. Callie love her lunch. I had made
mackerel and pickled red cabbage sangers. She wolfed hers and then sat giving
me a Paddington Bear stare as I munched my way through mine. In the end she had
the crusts from every one of my sangers, too.
Just past the light is a quarry and it has some good
bouldering rocks to scramble about on. I didn’t do too much though as I had to
tie the daft dog up because she thought she could follow me across the
boulders. She got herself stuck, so I had to scramble back and rescue her. Then,
tied to the lead, she started to do the pitiful whine she makes when I abandon
her. It sounds like a lost soul in distress. So without anyone to distract her
while I scrabbled about on the rocks, I came back and carried on walking to
Whitehaven.
There used to be a huge chemical works on the south side of
the town, called Marchon [or was it Albright and Wilson?], I can vaguely remember
it from my childhood. It has been totally removed! Up on the top of the cliffs
where it used to be is just an industrial waste land of old roads and brown
fields full of rubble. It also has the most pooh filled lane I have ever walked
down. I mean the dog mess was absolutely everywhere. It was so bad I put Callie
on the lead so I could steer her past the piles of dog dirt. I have christened
the place Pooh Alley. It was totally disgusting. Do the people who live here
not clean up after their dogs at all? Has Pooh Alley reached the Dog Pooh event
horizon? I stopped counting at two hundred piles of excrement, there was just
so much!
Next stop was Haig Mine. It is the last of the coal mines which
used to littler the coast of Cumbria. It is now a mining museum, so Callie and
I went to have a look at the outside and its display board telling you the
opening times and prices. I am not sure I would really want to visit but it is
useful to know about.
All too quickly we were at the “Candlestick” above Whitehaven
Harbour. It does look really special from this high vantage point. It is only
when you descend into the Whitehaven proper you see how poor and dilapidated the
town centre is. The market was supposed to be there today, being a Thursday, but
there were hardly any stalls and those that had turned up were in the process
of closing up. I guess at half past three, they must have thought their trade
was over for the day. I went for a complete circumnavigation of the harbour and
had a cuppa in the Beacon Café which sits on the harbour’s south side. It got
me thinking; this is a place of contrasts. The harbour is full of really expensive
yachts and cabin cruisers and yet the town itself is crying out for
regeneration. I wonder if the people who moor their boats here actually live anywhere
near the town itself? I bet they don’t. Certainly, Dad’s chums who are with him
in Belfast at the moment don’t live in Whitehaven. They have a park home in
Gosforth and really criticise the old town. That’s probably why they spend
their time during the winter months in their little cottage in the South of
France.
I caught the four o’clock train back to Wigton and had a
coast-side seat again going back. The window was much cleaner on this train and
the view was even better than this morning. The Isle of Man showed his face at
last and most of the Scottish hills across the Solway were in plain view, too.
At Maryport a gaggle of school kids got on the train and several made a beeline
for Callie. She got a load of fuss before they all bundled themselves off in
Aspatria. I was back at Laura’s work in time to pick her up and tell her the
news that I hadn’t got tea waiting as I’d been walking all day. [She knew.]
Dad's builder had left us a note explaining what he had done to stop the leak. We couldn't help giggling at his spelling! I know we shouldn't but it was atrocious! He had left a second note marked Victoria. It was just a mobile phone number - the cheeky git! This went straight into the bin!
We eventually decided to go to The Bar’n’Bistro in Gilcrux
for our meal. Despite the fact it meant I had fish for two dinners in a row, I
had the local trout, farmed at the fish farm in the village. It was delicious. Laura
had a chicken dish which was very spicy. It seems the proprietor, Hal, knows
Dad, and he and Louisa eat there quite often. Laura’s Mum cleans several
properties in the village too. Including doing some work for the caravan park
just behind the restaurant. [I hadn’t known that.]
I had an e-mail waiting when I got back. The Uni failed to
tell me they wanted me to concentrate on the change from the old to the new in
my lectures. This means charting the transition from the Dark Ages to the Early
Mediaeval time. Specifically they wanted my knowledge of Old Sarum and
Salisbury, and the rise of Winchester from the old churches at St. Cross and St
Swithin’s. This gives me much more focus than I had before.
An early –ish night was had again. I hadn’t realised just
how tired I was. Snuggling up was sheer bliss. Laura’s massage will wait until tomorrow.
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