Brusque Doctor tells me there's nothing he can do! It's the flu!

Monday November 25^th.

Walk and swim as per usual. I told Sarah there will be a quiz and meal at the pub again this Thursday, being the last Thursday in the month, she has said she’ll be there. I like Sarah, she is down to earth and sensible. She asked if Dave could come too but I had to warn her that the Scampi tails are an all women outfit. So yes he could come, no he couldn’t be a Scampi Tail! We had some guys from work come along earlier in the year. They were slaughtered by our collective wisdom!

Amanda S. was there again this morning. I think she is using me a little bit. Although she came with news of a new Indian Restaurant that is doing lunch time specials for half the price of their evening meals. Now, I am a woman who likes her food. I don’t over eat, but I do like a variety of tastes and textures. Laura and I said we’d come and join her at the Cottage. [I think that is what it’s called.] Feli arrived as we were discussing this and she is tagging along too.

Feli has split from her boyfriend. Another one! She goes through them like I go through shirts! He was very insulting about the French apparently, obviously forgetting Feli is French! She accused him of being racist; he accused her of being a manipulative bitch so she hit him with a saucepan. [They had been cooking tea together.] It caught him just above his eye and split his eyebrow open “like splitting a fucking melon” were her words. Blood flowed like water, insults and recriminations flowed like water, she drove him to A & E and dumped him there. In both senses of the word. He moaned about his car being at her place, to which she replied, “That’s your fucking problem, n’est-ce pas?”

Amanda was aghast. She was worried that he might call the police and have her done for assault. Feli was convinced his chauvinist ego wouldn’t allow him to admit he’d been hospitalised by a woman! I tend to agree with Feli on this. Laura just laughed at the whole business. She told Feli, “You’ll have to turn gay!”  Both Amanda and Feli said something like, “I could do that!”  I just had that doomy feeling again in the pit of my stomach. Oh no!

Feli has tracked down two more cabinets for us to examine. She spent the morning confirming their locations and getting permission for us to come and see them some time in the future. This side project is turning into something quite interesting. I think way ought to mention it to our supervisor at some point, but Feli was adamant we should keep it just between us three [including Laura in the conspiracy], for the time being! That now makes five we have to go and see; to photograph, measure and describe.

I decided that I am going to write to every Major Museum and National Trust Area manager to see if there any other caskets lurking out there. It seems a good place to start rather than continuing our current ad hoc approach.

Laura was delighted by the Indian. I don’t know why the undergrads call the place the Cottage, there is no mention of a cottage in its name at all. The special turned out to be four different kinds of Thali.  I just love this on an Indian Menu. I had the meat special, Feli and Mandy had the vegetable special and Loll had the House special. When they arrived there were even more surprises in store. Although I had explained what they were, Laura and Feli had never had them before and couldn’t get over the tray idea. Feli started to take her dishes from the tray, but I explained how we ate them on the tray.

I had Tandoori chicken, Chana Masala, Sag Lamb, Chicken bhuna, plus the normal riata, rice, nan bread and salad. It was absolutely delicious and only £5.95! I just love this meal from an Indian, you get so many different tastes in a sensible sized portion. I left half my nan bread to wipe out my little dishes and then ate the riata as a separate dish at the end [I always do that – it cools any fires there may be from the spices!] I think we may be using this place quite often in the future. What a find.

Mandy zoomed off to her afternoon lecture and Feli asked, “What is her story?” Laura said, “It’s obvious. She fancies Vicki. I am surprised you can’t tell!”

Oh bloody hell.

We continued translating this afternoon and Loll went to the Maths department for a tutorial. When Laura came back I asked her if she was OK with the Miss Scothern situation. She thought it was funny. It was obvious that Mandy had no idea just how uninterested in her I was. I think we could have a problem down the line with this but Laura thinks having her close is better than having her as a loose cannon! How did I get to fall for such a smart cookie? Anyway, according to the Lollster, my body language is so easy to read that she has no worries about me and Mandy, although she is worried about me and Feli as we have an ease of understanding which, if it was between anyone else, she’d be scared by. Luckily Feli’s sex-life is so erratic, catastrophic and blatantly man-orientated she has no inkling that Feli and I attempted something earlier in the year. I do know one thing. I am not going to say anything! At all. Ever!

She was busy at the restaurant tonight so I did more on my Tree of Life. I can’t believe how much I have done in so short a space of time. Dominic is looking forward to whatever Dad brings back with him from Cochem. So am I Dominic, so am I.

Tuesday 26^th November.

Walk swim breakfast work.

Lunch work home dinner.

Sewing radio walk sleep.

That is my almost Haiku for the day.

I was being a lazy cow today. I felt absolutely knackered. Cold, shivery, aching. I was not a happy bunny. I felt dreadful at work and worse when I was home. I was glad Loll cooked the meal. I listened to the radio until 9pm, took Callie out and went to bed early. I put a ‘post it’ on the table.

“Poorly!”

Laura came to hug me and said I was burning up. She took my temperature. 38.5. She vanished and came back with a hot sweet lemony drink with whisky. I drank it down when it cooled a bit and then fell asleep.

In the night she woke me up to tell me I was soaked. I had sweated so much my PJs were drenched. She made me change into fresh ones and I went off to sleep again.

Wednesday twenty bloody seventh of No bloody Vember.

I am not well.

No dog walk, no swim. Couldn’t face breakfast. Felt like crap. Temp still in the 38 point something; Laura didn’t actually tell me the number!

I want my Mummy!

My throat is really sore and I feel absolutely knackered, as if I have just climbed a Munroe or something. The worst is my nose feels so bunged up and blowing it does nothing, I just make a noise like a fog horn and the tissue stays empty. My legs are really wobbly too. The muscles ache so much. Even lying down I can’t make the ache go away.

Laura took the morning off Uni and ran me to a 9.20am appointment. Dr Brookes says I have the flu. I think he was a bit pissed off at me going to the surgery and wasting his time. All I can take for it is paracetamol [or ibuprofen]. I have to drink lots of fluids and I should be over the worst by about Sunday.

Sunday?

I don’t get it. I was fine on Monday and then on Tuesday, wham! I am not a happy bunny. I don’t get ill. I am healthy. Being poorly is not on my radar. I have obviously got someone else’s illness by mistake!

I have been asleep for most of the day and in the loo, piddling, for the rest. Apparently dehydration is a common problem so I have been drinking gallons of liquid. The trouble is; what goes in has to come out. Laura brought the portable CD player down from the study and I gave her a list of CDs to fetch.

I have gone through all the Beethoven piano pieces today, although I think I may have dozed off during some of them. I listened to part of Woman’s Hour and fell asleep through that too.

Even doing this is a bit of an effort.

I have had to change my PJs again. I am just so sweaty. I put both pairs in the washing machine and have spent the day in my tumbling teddy bear ones. I haven’t worn these for ages.

Loll has been in and out with different foods since she came in, none of which I can face, and hugs which I can’t get enough of. She went to work as usual and even brought home some of Dom’s brilliant prawn risotto to tempt me. I could manage that either.

Callie is so confused. She pads up stairs to her bean seat. Pads back to her crate, then back to her beat seat. She sat next to the bed this evening and kept putting her paw on the bed. It just made me cry, I have no idea why.

The thing that has kept me sane has been dipping in and out of Y!A. I know, I am sad cow.

Thursday November 28^th.

Mum came round for the morning.

I was asleep. Callie went ballistic when she let herself in with her spare key.

I got up [new PJs again!] and sat under a pile of blankets on the sofa chatting to her[Mum, not Callie!] . She reheated Dom’s risotto but I still couldn’t face it so I put the plate down on the floor and Callie snagged the lot. I mean seriously gobbled it down like it was going out of fashion. I got Mum to call Loll and ask if she’d fed Callie. She hadn’t last night or this morning! No wonder the little pup wolfed the prawns. That was probably why she was putting her paw on the bed last night too. Mum gave her some fud and she scoffed that too. She had half of a second bowlful before she gave up. [I call it her “Dog fud” and Callie knows what I am talking about.]

At about 12 I woke up to find Mum sitting opposite having a quiet giggle. I asked her why she was laughing and she told me that I had fallen asleep in the middle of a sentence about 15 minutes ago. It reminded her of the time when I had fallen asleep in my dinner in the Queen’s Head Inn at Troutbeck. I was 8.

I think my life is defined by points like that for my Mum. She always has some story about me doing something silly or funny or outrageous or dangerous. I once set fire to the net curtains by focusing the sun’s rays on them with a magnifying glass. I was only trying to singe the bottom but they went “Whup!” and burned like nobody’s business. I had the sense to shout for help after I had set a cushion on fire too by using it to try and put the curtains out! She hasn’t mentioned that one for a while. It was one of the reasons why I bought a fire extinguisher for my house when I moved in!

To be honest I felt a little less like death warmed up today. Certainly by tea time. My temperature is still 38.1 though! I am normally 36.1! Mum went off at about 2pm and I stood on the back garden so Callie could have a stretch on the grass and perform. Ann came out and asked if I was OK. I guess it’s not every day you find you neighbour standing in the garden in her PJs, Dressing gown and bobble hat. I explained and she volunteered to take Callie up to the Wood for a romp. I was so grateful. They were gone about an hour and I was fast asleep, again, when they got back.

We shared a cuppa and had a gossip. It was nice to hear local stuff from a new source. We were still gassing when Laura came home, so we had refills all round and more chat. Ann joined the long list of people who are surprised to learn that Laura is doing a Pure and Applied Maths degree. I don’t know what they expect her to be doing, but obviously her appearance doesn’t seem to suggest Mathematician to most people who meet her. When she talked about the fluid dynamics work she is doing at the moment you could see the spreading incomprehension on Ann’s face.

The Scampis went ahead to the pub for the meal and quiz without YT. Two of them did pop round to see how I was beforehand, which was lovely. Claire phoned later on to tell me they had won by one point. Rah, rah rah.

I didn’t take the call, I was asleep again. She left an answer machine message. Which Laura played when she got in from work. I felt like a shower when Laura had gone to the restaurant but once underneath I had a wave of enervation wash over me. So I just stood there for a while under the spray then got out. I did feel better, if hardly any cleaner!

I hope I am OK for Saturday’s concert. We have tickets for the Arcadia String Quartet at the Crucible. I bet I will have to miss it!

X-rated memories of Richard. Saturday night and Sunday at Mum's; yes, we were pissed!

Friday November 22^nd.

Mandy was at my door again!

Oh dear, you don’t suppose I am the person on whom she has the crush? No, of course I’m not. She has used the masculine personal pronoun to describe them all the time; unless it is a cunning plan.

I guess it could be worse. I gave her my mobile number but she hasn’t used it; getting calls from her all the time wouldn’t be good.

We [Laura and I] went to the Winter Gardens today. Met up with Kaybers there, had a goss and giggle and a coffee and sandwich – OK, I had tea. She confessed she had been a bit worried about Jan’s plan to go and live in Norway. It turns out he was just trying to live out a fantasy. Her glow from the other night had turned in to a blotchy redness this lunchtime. I pointed this out and she said she was all over the place with the pregnancy, sometimes she felt on top of the world and at others like complete shite. She’s been constipated, had chronic diarrhoea, and had terrible headaches and feelings of euphoria; hot flushes, cold sweats, the works! [Sodding hell, her description has put another nail in to the coffin of motherhood!]

Laura thought the whole thing sounded quite normal and said that her sisters went through similar things during their pregnancies but the baby at the end was worth all the trouble. Is it though? Surely, I will have hassle for the rest of my life if I ever have one? I don’t even know why I am dwelling on this topic, it is not likely to be on my [our] agenda any time soon is it? Why hasn’t my sister told me all this about her three? Is it an unwritten conspiracy? Am I being paranoid?

The only thing Suze told me was that the actual process of labour was like trying to expel a bowling ball through your vagina! She also said she’d told Pete he was never having sex with her again – after Jill was born! Well, it can’t have been so terrible, as she went on to have Annabelle and Jeff. I guess being surrounded, suddenly, by pregnant friends and family has made me think about it a little more.

After the Winter Gardens we strolled back up through town to Uni again and witnessed a bus hit a white van on West Street. I don’t know who was at fault but both vehicles came to rest in the middle of the road, the two drivers almost sat in each other’s laps. It was a minor tonk really but someone had obviously called an ambulance and we soon heard sirens, the ambulance station is on a street parallel to West Street.

This caused quite a lot of confusion and congestion as the two vehicles were now blocking the tram lanes as well as the road! We weren’t sure whether or not to hang around, but as there were loads of people on West Street, many still at the bus stop waiting for a different bus, I assumed they would have enough witnesses to call on and we continued on our way. The whole of the street had become one giant car park so quickly. Some bright spark had the bright idea to do a U-turn and had back up the hill, pretty soon everyone else was doing the same. It was quite a surreal sight watching car after car dive down the hill, see the congestion and then turn smartly round to go back again.

Back at Uni, Sarah – one of the office staff - came in quite a while after me and she’d actually been a passenger on the bus. The impact was so slight she hadn’t even realised there had been a collision. There was a sudden jolt, apparently, and the bus stopped. She thought it was nothing more than the driver hitting his brakes too hard. They only realised something wasn’t right when the bus just stayed there. When they trooped off, they were surprised to see how much of the van was embedded into the front of the bus!

Laura was working again tonight, and she drove herself down, so I settled down to some more embroidery. I think I may need to go to see Nicky Heal again in Cockermouth. My eyes are finding it hard to see some of the holes in the fabric I am using. It is plain weave linen and they are quite tiny, I suppose, but even with the bright working lamp on I found it a strain. Thinking about it, I can’t remember the last time I went to have my eyes tested. The optician I use is one up near Dad’s village. We have always used them, mainly because we were at the holiday home a lot during school holidays it made sense to use the local services.

My current specs come from Heals, in fact every single pair, except one from Vision Express in Norwich have come from there. Playing volleyball in your specs can have unexpected consequences! I caught the ball square in the face, at school, and my lovely invisible framed, lightweight pair snapped in three places!

Being under sixteen meant they were free but Mum was livid with me for wearing them to play sport in! She was fine when I wore them for cricket and hockey but not volleyball. Go figure? Mums can be irrational. Oh no! I am back to pregnancy again!

Saturday 23^rd November.

Dog walked and swam as usual.

Did the Times Jumbo Crossword in 40 minutes! Rah rah rah. Yes, it was raining. By day light I could see the holes in my linen much clearer. Was last night’s poor perception because of tiredness? I spent the whole morning after the Crossword sitting in the lounge working on the tree of life. The Lollster brought her work down from the study and sat in the lounge with me, in the recliner, busy with her current assignment; the last one of the term. We must have looked like a stereotypical picture of domestic harmony to anyone who happened to look through our window. Do you know, in the four hours from finishing the crossword to lunch time [1.30pm] we drank eight cups of tea each? Eight! No wonder by about 12.30 we were forming a relay procession to the loo!

We drove over to Mum’s after lunch and rendez-voused with the Big Brother, wife and sprogs there too. The plan was a stroll across the moors if it stayed fine and then tea at Mum’s. It stayed fine long enough to get out onto Curbar Edge just before it started to rain again. We dropped down into Baslow instead and went shopping in the touristy shops, which were surprisingly full. After about an hour the sky brightened and we went back to Curbar Edge and strolled properly this time, walking along to the momument that overlooks Chatsworth and back. You could tell Callie was confused as she walked placidly by my side for ages after we had left the two cars.

I gave Angela and Peter the ball wanger and they spent a while getting Callie to retrieve her ball. They would have done if for the whole walk had Peter not managed to wang the ball over the edge and, look as we might, we couldn’t find the damned thing. It did give us a good opportunity to scramble about on the rocks along that bit of the edge.  Millstone grit usually gives you pretty good traction for walking and climbing, trust Phil to find the only slippery bit of millstone grit on the edge!

It was very funny to watch. He was standing up on the wet slab of rock and in the next instant he was sitting down. He just dropped right onto his bum! It looked so funny, a bit like a slapstick comedian, from the old silent movie days. It must have hurt like hell! We [I am sorry to say] all hooted. Angela had a fit of the giggles which infected us all, except Phil. The smiled but didn’t join the hysteria. Jane and I went across and helped him up. He looked a bit like his dignity was the main thing that had been injured but as we came back from the monument, he was walking far more gingerly than he had been. Jane drove their car back to Mum’s and for the rest of the afternoon and evening he grimaced every time he shifted in his seat.

They set off back to Leeds after Dr Who and Jane drove again!

Maybe he has hurt himself more than we all thought? I hope not. He can be a boring old fart and a pompous ass, and all sorts of things like that but he is my brother and I love him really. I wouldn’t want him to be really hurt.

Mum brought out some lovely Gewurtztraminer after they had left and we drank the bottle full between us. She then found a delicious Dolcetta / Syrah and we had that too. By about 10.30 we were laughing our heads off at Phil’s fall. [Not a good sign.] We giggled at all sorts of trivia too, which we took as a sign that we’d better stay the night.

I walked Callie in what may only be described as a devil may care attitude brought on by the alcohol as I walked down the middle of the road in the village oblivious to the possibility of there being any traffic. Luckily there wasn’t, as I wasn’t sure I would have been in complete control of Callie if I had to get us out of the road quickly. Back at Mum’s they had both gone to bed and Mum had locked the back door! I had to ring the doorbell to get back in. Mum’s excuse? She thought Laura was me! Drink, eh?

Sunday 24^th November.

Callie nudged my ear in the night [3.45am to be precise]. I told her to get back on her bean seat. She did, bless her, but in moments she was back nudging my ear again. To my shame I just told her more firmly to get back on her bean seat and being the good dog she is, she did. Moments later she was back again! This time I switched the bedside light on and could see and hear she was licking her chops like she does when she’s just eaten. She then did the rictus grin that she does and I knew I had seconds to act.

Luckily I had grabbed Mum’s Guardian when she let me back in last night. I snagged it from the kitchen table for some unknown reason and took it with me up to bed. Maybe I was planning on doing the Crossword in my sleep? Who knows? Anyway I grabbed the paper and spread it out in front of rictus dog. Sure enough, as soon as the paper was on the floor she began the doggy belly dance that precedes the vomit. She chucked slap bang in the middle of the paper a mix of dog food, grass and bile. I folded up the top four sheets of the paper and padded over to the window to drop them out of it. As I did so she started the belly dance again and landed a second batch of stomach contents on to the Guardian. I had a near hysterical moment of giggles as I thought “Shame it isn’t the Daily Mail!” I folded the second batch of canine vomit and that joined the first through the window.

I then rushed the pup down stairs and out of the kitchen door onto the garden. There she wandered about Mum’s bit of lawn for a while. She set off all the security lights on the back. She sniffed at the bushes along the back wall. She had a wee and came back in to have her paws wiped. By the time I had closed and locked the back door and hung the dog towel on the radiator to dry she was back upstairs on her bean seat again, in the bedroom. I pulled a cushion from the armchair, Mum had it put in here ages ago while Richard was still alive.

It brings back memories, does that chair and cushion. When Richard came to stay the first time, we discovered that if I sprawled in it, with my buttocks resting at the very front edge and Richard kneeled down, his penis and my vagina were at a perfect height for each other. A simple rocking motion on his part meant we could bonk for ages without expending vast amounts of energy. He could use his thumb or fingers or both to rub my clitoris and we could have amazing sex in this chair. All the more amazing because unlike the bed, it didn’t creak like a galleon in a storm, so we could have sex over and over in the chair without making a sound. Apart from me moaning and groaning and stifling cries when I came, that is.

If I turned round, stood up and grabbed the back of the chair, we could achieve the same result with Richard standing up and entering me from behind, doggy style. Again, my vagina and his penis were at the same height and all he needed to do was just rock backwards and forwards to become a piston inside me. The chair is right in front of the radiator and the window to the back garden. On one seriously naughty occasion Richard was bumping in and out of me and I had moved forward slightly so my arms were on the windowsill. Mum came out into the garden and saw me at the window. She waved and called up to me, so I opened the window and had a conversation with my Mum while Richard was still busy pushing his length up and down my pussy behind me. It was the weirdest thing I have ever done, talking to my Mum while being fucked.

Worse was the fact that, not only was he sliding so deep inside, his fingers were rubbing my love bump for all they were worth, I could feel myself building up to an orgasm and I had to try and not let Mum realise what was happening while fireworks were going off in my head and groin. I actually had an orgasm through sex in front of my mother and she didn’t know. Richard fired his load in me at almost at the same time and I just had to get back inside the room so I could wash his penis with my mouth. The stain on the cushion is still there, I just turned the cushion over, when the wet patch had dried. I don’t think Mum knows it’s there.

Seeing it as I put the cushion on the floor, so I could sit and stroke Callie, brought it all flooding back to me [no pun intended – LOL]. I sat there for a good hour or so, with my tablet on my lap answering questions on Y!A. She seemed to have recovered from whatever it was that made her sick, so I climbed back into bed and tried to go to sleep. [It was about 5am by now.] I had just dozed off when I felt a mouth on my nipple. I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming on not at first, but sure enough it was Laura licking and sucking my left nipple.

She stopped and asked, “Everything OK?” I nodded. “Can I carry on?” I nodded again.

As I lay there afterwards I reflected on the weirdness of the morning. The cushion brought back a memory I hadn’t thought about for years and almost immediately afterwards I was having a different kind of sex, one which I would never have thought possible when I was engaged to Richard.

Up, dressed, out and walking the revitalised Callie at 7 am, we walked along the ridge footpath that took us towards Owler Bar and drank in the view north across the city. The view from up here is far better than the view from my house, or even up the road from my house. From this vantage point you are looking down on almost three quarters of Sheffield. At night it is even more spectacular, with all the street lights stretching away into the distance.

When we got back the pup still seemed a bit under the weather and she wasn’t keen on eating her food. So I whopped a “pred” down her neck. That usually does the trick within a couple of hours. As no-one was stirring I started cooking some bacon for breakfast. I don’t know what it is with the smell of bacon but within 10 minutes of starting I had two hungry customers at the breakfast bar.

Mum asked what we were going to do with the day. I said we had nothing planned, so she asked if we fancied touring the garden centres and tea rooms of the White Peak District. Not ones to pass up an opportunity for some retail therapy from a new source we agreed. At 9 we piled into Mum’s car and headed out for the Chatsworth Garden Centre. It didn’t open until 10! So we parked up anyway at Calton Lees and walked along the Derwent to Rowlsey to the Craft Centre there; Caudwell’s Mill. That didn’t open until 10 either but we figured a stroll along the river would be very enjoyable and we’d get there at opening time. We did. Laura bought herself a beautiful deep blue cotton dress with sunflowers on it for £35!! It is gorgeous. I would have loved one too, but both of us having one would be silly. We had a cuppa and a bun in the café and then strolled back to Chatsworth Garden Centre. Here we browsed but didn’t buy anything.

From there we drove up the Wye to Bakewell and were tourists there too. I bought half a dozen Bakewell puddings [they are unique, nothing like the Bakewell tarts people like Mr Kipling sell, at all] from Ye Olde Bakewell Pudding Shoppe. Mum says she can remember visiting there as a child on holiday from Hawick! That was in Victorian times, I joked. I will freeze 5 of them and have one with our meal tonight.

I suppose it was because we’d been to Rowsley and Calton Lees before Bakewell that there were masses of people there already. Mum found a really cute plaque for Dad [they still exchange presents after the divorce] it is a ceramic tile with a blue Citroen 2CV. Dad’s is red but the man in the shop said they only made blue ones on the plaques. He’ll love it. It’s about the size of a piece of A4 paper.

We went into the bookshop on the corner of the Monyash road and I found a series of books, similar in style to Wainwrights, about the Peak District! I bought the Dark Peak one, I have a sneaky feeling someone bought me the White Peak one for Christmas! We all loved a wooden advent calendar designed to look like a heap of presents next to a Christmas Tree and thought the kids would love it. We then had a minor disagreement about who should buy it. Mum wanted it to be a gift from Gran, I wanted it to be a gift from Laura and me, Laura said, “Why not all three of us?” Mum and I turned on Laura and said [in unison and without any planning], “Don’t be silly!” We all just giggled and decided we would all buy it, between us and make sure it got to Angela and Peter before December the first.

We drove up the road past the bookshop to Monyash and had lunch in the Bull’s Head. Very tasty Sunday Roast. I had the beef, Laura had turkey and Mum had three meats. The pub was quite busy but they managed to find us a table and the food was really nice. I knew it was going to be good though as the tables with food had bottles of Henderson’s relish on them. A Sheffield delicacy! We shared a bottle of rose between us and even had dessert. What do you expect? Traditional Bakewell Pudding. Laura, who has never had it before, was really impressed and could now understand why I had bought six of them in the shop!

From her we scooted up to Ashford in the Water. Up past the Monsal Head Inn, which looked as though it was bursting at the seams, and into Bradwell. Mum wanted to buy some Bradwell Ice Cream from the factory shop. She got four tubs, we bought two. From here we hit the Hope Valley and went to the Hope Valley Garden Centre. This is more like a garden centre for people who are gardeners, rather than a tourist attraction. I bought a book about growing vegetables in raised bed. [That raised Mum’s eyebrows, so I explained as we drove to Hathersage.]

In Hathersage we had a stroll with Callie up to see Little John’s Grave in the church – another first for Laura – and then we did the retail bit again. Mum was looking for something for Uncle Chris. She didn’t find anything she liked. We toyed with idea of having another cuppa in Hathersage but as Mum’s was so close we didn’t bother and just drove to her house. This way takes us the reverse way to Surprise View and Toad’s Mouth, then past Fox House Inn and finally Owler bar. It is a really nice route, doing it the other way!

We were pretty full still from lunch so we had just a cuppa at Mum’s then set off back home. It was just going dark when we got in. The heating had come on and the house was snug bug ruggly. We had one of the puddings as a midevening snack warmed through and served with Bradwell Ice cream. Yummy in my Tummy.

By 9.30 we were past it. So Callie had a truncated last walk and we hit the charp. Dirty cow that I was I hadn’t showered at all today! Can you believe it? Maybe it’s a break through! LOL

A student limpet and January's Friday nights sorted!

Monday 18^th November.

Phew. Getting up early was no problem. Driving back down was a bit hairy at times. The amount of traffic as we hit the outskirts of Manchester was incredible, especially as it was just 7.15 am! What the hell must it be like at the heart of the rush hour? I didn’t pour Laura on to the back seat of Quokka but she was asleep within minutes of us hitting the A66. She woke up as we got to the Flouch Inn Roundabout on the Woodhead route over the Pennines [I know the Flouch Inn has been marooned by the new road, but everyone still calls it the Flouch Inn Roundabout.] We were home by 8.30.

At my broom cupboard door was a certain Amanda Scothern. She was waiting for me with a wide grin on her face and a bunch of flowers in her hand. She just turned round, saw me approaching and gave me a huge hug. She then spent the next few minutes apologising, every other sentence, while she told me that going to Hull and back was exactly what she had needed. I sort of hoped it would be. We are having lunch in the refec later as I had work to do and she was late for a 9 am lecture!

At lunch we got a blow by blow account of the entire weekend. It was quite an eye opener into how other people live their lives. She had seen her old boyfriend and was able to tell him to his face that it was definitely over and he had to stop pestering her or she would set her brother on him! I had wondered [OK Laura had wondered and I agreed] that there might have been a guy at the bottom of it all. Bloody men, eh? Like a woman after my own heart, she had dumped him on moving away from Hull and he couldn’t accept the fact. That sounds so familiar! LOL. We had a long moan about men in general and then she started going on about how she really fancied one of her lecturers!

Feli was intrigued by our weekend on Arran and accepted, immediately, the offer of coming to stay on the island during one of the vacations. I still keep breaking out into enormous demented looking grins at the thought of owning something there which we can visit whenever we want! I transferred my half of the money to Dad’s bank account this morning, which means almost my entire dividend for the first half of the year has now been spent! I was going to use it to pay some more of my mortgage off, but that will have to wait until the next lot is due at the end of March.

After work we went food shopping as we were so Mother Hubbardy back home. We drew up a menu for the week over lunch and Mandy [as she prefers to be known] was really impressed by the idea. She had never even thought of doing that, she just buys her food as and when – which must cost her an absolute fortune. We still managed to spend over £100 altogether, despite having our menu for the week planned out. We had a large stir fry with prawns for tea as it is quick and Loll was back at the restaurant for 7.

I was able to tell Dominic that Dad would be going to Germany [Cochem] during the first weekend in December so he could expect his wine soon after. The revised plan was that he and Louisa would go, I would stay in the UK and then on the way back they’d come up to Sheffield and drop my wine off (and Dominic’s) and break the journey with an overnight stay. I was a bit disappointed at his revision of our plans as I was looking forward to seeing Uncle Hilmar and the family again. Still, as Laura said, why can’t we go under our own steam in the New Year? I could get Callie a doggy passport and she could come too! Taking a Weimaraner back to Germany has a certain humour attached to it. Before he goes I will have to ask Dad to find out if there is a time we can make a visit.

Laura found me fast asleep on the sofa again, when she got back in from work. Needle in hand, embroidery on my lap. This time the TV was on as I had tried to watch “Last tango in Halifax” but had nodded off halfway through it. Luckily Loll had wanted to watch it, too, so it is recorded on my PVR. We missed the first series but I bought the boxed set [I buy a lot of boxed sets of TV shows] and we both loved it. Bloody hell. Do you realise I think this may be the first TV show I have mentioned in this entire blog? I don’t count watching Aussie Rules Football with my family in OZ.   

Tuesday November 19^th.

Today was our first time at the pool since Thursday. Sarah is having trouble keeping track of our comings and goings. I told her about the trip to Arran and buying the van. She said she had one of the sweaters! I had to tell her that was the other Aran. She hadn’t realised there were two. Quite a lot of people don’t. She was surprised and said I didn’t look the type to be buying a static caravan. I asked her what type of person does buy one but she couldn’t answer. I told her about going halves with Dad and suddenly that was different, then! People do have some funny ideas.

Mandy was at my door again this morning, but this time it was for her scheduled meeting with me and the other tutees. I had to scavenge the area for mugs to drink from as I had forgotten to bring my little boxful with me. I have started to take it home as one of them has gone walkabout already! Can you believe that? It was a really cute Wallace and Gromit one, too. This is the third meeting where I get the group all together. I thought it would be a good idea for them to get to know someone outside their own discipline. They seemed to be quite friendly with each other, despite only meeting because of my machinations. I’ll be seeing them again, individually before term goes down for Christmas, to monitor how they are doing etc. This was just an informal gathering really. I had booked a room especially for it as my “office” is just too small.

One of them dropped a bombshell on me. She told me Runrig were playing Sheffield City Hall, next March [26^th] and that the tickets went on sale last Saturday. I then did something really rude, I told them I had to make a quick phone call, and got through to Dad’s office in Lancaster. It sounds so cool when you ask the switch board to get another University and there is a roomful of people listening. They may have been surprised by the rest of my conversation though.

The students heard only my side of the conversation which went something like this:

Mr Jay, please.

Ms Smith. Sheffield University.

Hi Dad.

No, nothing’s wrong.

No, I…

That’s good… I transferred it on Monday.

Yes. I am OK. Just ask Hilmar if we can come down and stay in the New Year. Could you?

Look, Dad…

No. Of course not.

No. Don’t be silly! No.

Look, Dad…

DAD!!

Look, I am ringing because Runrig are playing Sheffield next March and tickets went on sale on…

Oh.

How come?

Ooh, Daad! OMG. Thank you, thank you, thank you. To the power of infinity.

No, it hasn’t spoilt it. It’s brilliant. Oh, Wow!

Yes, of course you can. I’ll get Callie to clean her kennel out!

For being such a sly dog.

No. I have a room full of students listening to every word.

No. It’s a mentoring session!

Well, it’ll show them people this side of the desk as just as human as everyone else.

Yes, I know. I’m going.

What.

No, I am really, really pleased. I am not disappointed to find out. It hasn’t spoilt the surprise at all. Honestly. Anyway, knowing you, you’d never have managed to keep it a secret. Would you?

Well, I don’t think so. You always blab.

Yes you do!

Of course I do.

Yes, of course.

She doesn’t know yet. We haven’t been over. I just phoned her from here yesterday morning, to let her know we were back safely.

Oh. OK, then.

Right.

Yes. About 6.30? We’re at a concert at 7.30.

Ensemble 360.

OK, we’ll be back about 10, either…

Love you, too. Bye.

No, you…

No, you…

They were chatting amongst themselves initially but gradually they all stopped and just listened in to our conversation. Well, my half of it. I think I have written my side pretty much as it occurred!

When they all gone Mandy stayed behind. I thought she was going to thank me again but she said, “Did you know, inside 10 seconds of making that call you went from being our tutor to being a little girl!”

I was a bit mortified. She said that she wasn’t being rude or anything, she just thought it was so sweet. She bet that the others thought the same. I was lost for words. That is so unlike me! LOL.

In case you hadn’t worked it out. Dad knew about the tour before we even left for Arran. He was delighted to let us zoom off up Goat Fell on Saturday morning as it meant he could buy tickets for the concert without us knowing. He was third in the queue at 9.30 when the box office opened and he has bought four front row circle tickets. Him and Louisa; Laura and me. I had spoiled his surprise. It was going to be a birthday surprise as it is only a few days after my birthday!

I love my Dad so much. I feel so sorry for those whose fathers aren’t as loving and supportive and silly as mine is. Laura is so jealous of me for having a Dad that is cool! I keep telling her that he isn’t cool at all, but she thinks he is. She totally understands why I wanted to marry him when I was a little girl! [A major embarrassing thing to have said, although I was only 5 or 6!]

Our evening concert: If you ever get the chance to see Ensemble 360, then do! They play in the round! It is amazing. I wondered why they had this name and now I know. We arranged to meet Mrs B and partner at a pub outside the Firth Hall as she had never been before. I was surprised because she has lived here for almost 20 years and not found out this venue. I jokingly said to her, “I suppose you’ve never been to the Montgomery Hall?” She hasn’t! Nor the Catholic Cathedral. Nor the Library Theatre. I decided I had better stop listing places as it may have become embarrassing.

The programme, as well as the Debussy – which was what I really wanted to hear – included some Britten! Arrggh! I normally go out of my way to avoid him, but these pieces weren’t too bad. I recently heard his Japanese influenced Curlew River “church opera” which was quite a surprise. That may have begun my revision of his oeuvre! There are usually about a dozen performers with Ensemble 360: one Bass, one Cello, a couple of Violins and a Viola, Flute, Clarinet, Bassoon, Oboe, French Horn, even a piano! Even more surprising is they are based in Sheffield! They have not been on my radar at all. Tonight’s pieces were all string quartets, though, so we had but four players; three women and a man. The women played one of the violins, the viola and the cello.

To say that I had found something which surprised Mrs B is an understatement. She was overwhelmed by the whole thing and was really grateful that I had added a new venue and ‘orchestra’ to her list of orchestras and venues to visit. The Britten Three Divertimenti were excellent, and based on the book / film of Eric Kastner’s “Emil and the Detectives”. I read it when I was little. One of Dad’s ‘just must read this’ books. That Britten had turned the idea into a trio of string pieces has actually made me think even more about him than I did before!

I told Feli about the concert at work in the morning and she didn’t see how playing in the round would work, of course for a string quartet it wasn’t a problem. I would love to see the full ensemble playing sometime. I am afraid I even told Christopher this afternoon before the performance and you could see he was more than miffed that he couldn’t go, he had a prior engagement! I knew this already; which was the only reason why I told him about it! Am I wicked or what?

Wednesday November 20^th.

Swimming and dog walking as usual this morning. Although Laura swam in her bikini which was a real distraction and we had to avoid helping each other to get dry afterwards as we just knew we’d end up having sex in the cubicle again, and we have vowed not to do that. We did spend quite a while at home having sex though. We each wore fresh bikinis and then we didn’t!

I wore one of my “business woman” outfits to work today. I do love dressing up and confounding people’s expectations of me. Today I was in a pale grey pin striped suit – tailored jacket and pencil skirt- an azure blouse and azure court shoes and matching handbag. My legs were in black tights. [I'd tried to get the right shade of blue but failed miserably!]  The skirt was relatively short, about five inches over the knee. I must have looked like one of our solicitors as I entered the building. It was all somewhat spoiled down in ARR by wearing my lab coat over the top to stop me getting messed up by some of the archive paperwork. The digitising of our records is going fairly well, even though I am only devoting one day a week to it now, rather than the five half days a week I did last year.

You can bet on the day I have finished they will announce they are scrapping the computer system or something equally silly!

I got a visit from Christopher, who came to ask about Ensemble 360. How does he find time to come down to archives? I am sure the accounts department is rushed off its feet! I am finding it quite hard to remain polite and nice towards him. I know I should be, but he really is a pain of the first water! I suppose he is like a dog waiting for any scraps to be dropped from the dining table, well he’s going to have a bloody long wait at my table.

Met up with Loll at lunch and we went into town to order some tickets for shows at the Lyceum and Crucible for both before and after Christmas. We bought them for: The Arcadia String Quartet, Ensemble 360 [doing a different programme], “The Nutcracker” [ballet], “Blink”, “The Comedy of Errors” and “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” the last four in January.  We got Mum tickets for The Nutcracker, C. of E. and M. N. D. too. Well, she used to be a Head of English and loves watching the Bard [and ballet].

Funnily enough, this month’s BBC Music magazine has The Nutcracker as its main cover feature. I suppose that is only natural, given the theme of the ballet!

When I got back to XXX & Y I told Mrs Briggs about Ensemble 360 being at the Crucible and The Nutcracker, so she phoned them straight away to get tickets for both performances. I bit the bullet and strolled up into accounts to tell Christopher about the next E 360 performance. This was a mistake as I could hear some of the other guys in there making snide remarks about me coming up to pass on this information. One particularly obnoxious little tw@t was so full of himself I just had to give him a gob full back. I don’t think that he knew what had hit him. He certainly wasn’t expecting a string of invective directed at his obnoxious countenance, culminating in my maligning his major flaws: his complete lack of intelligence, the paucity of his ‘wit’ and the fact that obviously his dick was smaller than my pinky! I parted company from the baying hyenas with; “and even tumescent it wouldn’t be sufficient to double as a hat rack! Could one of you monkeys provide him with a dictionary so that he can work out whether or not he has been insulted.” I left to a stunned silence.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help it. He was being a complete @rsehole. It helps to have a range of withering phrases ready to fling at a second’s notice! I thought it wise to go and tell Mrs B what I had done in case there were repercussions. She simply hooted. This will now get Christopher on my case even more. Doh!

I recounted all this to Mum after work, we'd driven over to hers for our dinner. She loved the idea of him being too small to be a hat rack!

She laughed at my sarcasm then went on to describe me to Laura, “Do you know, she never does what you expect. She fell out of a tree on campus once, in Norwich. I saw it happen but was too far away to help. Do you know what she was doing when I got over to her? Remember, she was six. She had just fallen out of a massive tree, broken her arm and had a cut on her forehead dripping blood. Guess what she was doing?!

Laura couldn’t.

“She was kicking the tree and swearing at it! As if it was the tree’s fault she had fallen out of it! You could always tell she was going to be different. She had tears streaming down her face but they were rage tears, not pain tears. Then at the hospital her Dad and one of the doctors played a joke on her. They told her when they had x-rayed her head her brain was missing! She just howled and sobbed and was heart-broken!”

I had the good grace to giggle and look embarrassed.

Laura, who’s heard part of the tree story before, laughed along with Mum.

“What can we do with her?”

I could see from her expression exactly what Laura thought she could do with me!

Thursday 21^st November.

Abso bloody lutely freezing this morning. The ice had turned the crazy paving into a psycho path! I almost measured my length against the ground even before we got from our little lane. It is a good job Bradfield Council grit the hill or there would be a piled of wrecked cars at the bottom where it meets the A6102.

Callie loves running in frosty grass, she loves snow even more. I guess it won’t be long now until we have some of the white stuff. The top end of the village usually gets a covering, down in the valley where the paper shop and restaurant are it hardly ever gets any!

The pool was less busy this morning, maybe that is a result of the weather. Our 100 lengths were soon done and we spent a few minutes slobbing out in the Jacuzzi. Laura wriggled her hand under my bottom and spent a large amount of the time with her fingers wiggling about inside me! There were two older biddies in there with us so I had a really hard time keeping my expression and voice calm. I don’t think they had any idea what was going on just across from them. I am afraid we did it in the cubicle again. [Well, there were so few people about!]

At work Mandy was outside my door again. I hope she isn’t going to become a limpet now I have shown some interest in her and her woes. She wanted to know if I thought she should tell her crush that she fancied them! I told her that it often wouldn’t result in anything happening at all. I fessed up about me and my Art teacher and she was appalled and enthralled in equal measure.

“Would you have… You Know? If he’d responded?”

I had to admit I would have tripped him up and been on the floor underneath him before he knew what had happened! She promised that she wouldn’t do anything foolish or that she’d regret [or illegal]. I couldn’t help but wonder who the poor hapless victim might be. I knew she was doing Biology but as I didn’t know any of the staff yet I couldn’t even begin to speculate. According to Feli you don’t get to know all that many staff members at all, really. I found this news sort of disheartening.

Equally disheartening; my current account balance seemed to have shrunk like a willy in a cold stream. [I have seen this happen with my own eyes – to Richard. Even a hot Fiance’s mouth took ages to make a difference to him!] I digress.

I suddenly seemed to be nearly £250 out in my balance. I had no idea what had happened. I was using the ATM on campus to get some readies and my jaw dropped. I must have looked totally stunned because Laura asked me what was wrong. I explained. She told me I was being the drongo now [strange to hear one of your own words used back at you]. I had bought all those tickets yesterday. That is nine sets of tickets for six shows; naturally my balance would be down. My Mum gave me a cheque last night for her share and Laura is going to do so when Dominic pays her this weekend, so it is all accounted for. I couldn’t believe the number that came up before the machine gave me my cash. It was a horrible feeling. All sorts of terrible possibilities flashed across my mind. A doomy feeling descended into the pit of my stomach. Laura was right. I was a drongo.

I cheered myself up by suggesting we had lunch off campus at the Thai place that had a “Lunchtime Specials” sign written across its window. So we did. Unbelievable value, £6.95 each for as much as we could eat from three courses. The range was pretty large and we sampled a massive number of different dishes. I waddled back to my office, I am sure. The special is repeated in the evening although then the price rises to £10.95. Even at that though you’d be getting far more than you could actually eat!

Feli hasn’t been there yet! How come? So we are going to go next week. Two days in a row would just spoil our taste for it.

News from Dad this evening. They are going to deliver the caravan to the site on the week before Christmas! That is excellent news. Of course I have now fully booked up all the weekends after New Year until February. So a visit may not be an option. As it is, we are going to have to drive down from Dad’s to one of the shows as it happens during the time we are house sitting for him! Looks like it won’t be until the dead of winter [February] before we’ll be able to go and stay.

Kaybers and Jan called round this evening. Laura was at the restaurant. They had brought Kaybers’ ultrasound scan. It was taken a bit later in the pregnancy than Jane’s so the image is more recognisably a baby. Their Norway trip has been revised. They are not going there to live. Just to show off the baby bump at first but then nearer her time they are heading out to Jan’s folks so the baby can be born there. This seems like an unnecessary complication to me, but if it’s what they want why not?

The brilliant news is they are not going to go and live in Norway after all. They are going to stay in Sheffield. [Kaybers explained when Jan went to the loo, that her Mum had played Merry Hell when they announced this scheme to her. That is the main reason why they had revised their plans. I mustn’t let on that I knew!] Kaybers is actually glowing! I know I am a bit cynical about the whole child birth thing to be honest, but Kaybers genuinely does look radiant. He cheeks are suffused with a pinkness she doesn’t normally have at all. I told her this and she said that loads of people had said the same thing but she couldn’t see it herself. How could she not? It is as plain as the nose on your face.

They stayed to show Laura the CD scan and then zoomed off pretty pronto afterwards. Laura could tell that their news had made me really happy. It has. I was going to miss her a lot when they went. Now I won’t. Is that selfish of me? Who cares?

An Arran Adventure. Daughter and Dad buy a van.

Friday November 15^th.

Dad was raring to go by 6.30 this morning, so it was a good job we had put out stuff in the car last night. I volunteered to drive [Dad’s car goes so quickly] but he insisted on doing it himself. So we had a speedy two and a bit hour journey from North Cumbria to Ardrossan. At times doing a steady 100 mph on the M74. [That was why I wanted to drive, TBH!]. We pulled into the Ferry car park at 8.45, being a week day in November there was hardly any traffic and we were about 6^th in the queue. Laura and I took Callie for a nature break and Dad & Louisa wandered into the terminal to buy the morning papers [Times, i and Guardian]. We watched the Ferry arrive and pretty soon after we were allowed on. Dad gave me express instructions to rush up to the restaurant and grab one of the round tables and try to snag a place in the breakfast queue.

Laura sat at the table and I joined the queue. I had to let three couples pass me before the aged parent and step-mum arrived. Again, the place was hardly busy. We all ordered the full breakfast and we were tucking in before the ship had even started its journey across the Clyde. I was so peckish I went back and ordered more toast. Having said that I was getting some more, everyone wanted more toast, so I ended up fetching 8 more slices. The guy on the checkout asked me, “Where do ya put it all?” Which I took to be a compliment. I just pointed at the table and said, “In them!”

There were so few vehicles on the ferry they hadn’t even used the upper ramp for parking so we ended up driving off about the third or fourth vehicle. The plan was to drive straight down to Whiting Bay and meet the site owner. Dad had arranged to be there by 11.30. We hit WB at 11.10 so we still went to the site for a walk around. It is stunningly located. There is the shoreline, the road round the island and then the caravan site, behind an 8 foot high stone wall. We strolled down to the vacant pitch and it was just as described. Right next to the wall, looking out over the Firth of Clyde, with WB and Holy Island to your left and across the water Ayr and the North Ayrshire coast line. It is beautiful. I think it is made even more beautiful by the fact that we will overlook no other caravans at all. Once it is sited there will be a 12’ square area of decking between the sea wall and the front of the van, when we sit in the van or on the deck, all we shall see will be the uninterrupted view. As the van we are going to buy has French Doors out of the front it should be amazing.

Laura and I walked the dog along the beach towards King’s Cross Point while Dad and Louisa did the wheeling and dealing with the site owner. We are going to buy the ABI Ambleside model, with extra insulation. Dad held out for a reduction in price for buying, setting up, delivery, siting and decking and we got the whole lot for £32K. Dad is brilliant at bartering and haggling. I try but I get too easily discouraged and give up. He has also said he will only pay half up front and the balance will be paid when we can walk into it as owners. He has even got the site fees fixed for three years too! I am glad he’s on my side.

We walked back on to the site just as they were closing the deal and signing the paperwork. I have had to put my name on it too, as I am legally the co-owner. It is so exciting! Dad has found an electrician on the island who will come and put some heat wire round the pipes on the van. This is amazing stuff, it is a coil of cable which you wrap around your water pipes and plug into a transformer system. This turns on the power when the temperature drops to zero and it prevents your water pipes from freezing! You have to lag the external pipes on top of the cable and, at my house, I have waterproofed the lagging too. The water pipe to the dog kennel hasn’t frozen at all, since I bought the house in 2010, all because of this wonderful stuff Dad found. Dad is going to have the pipes done as soon as the van arrives.

The owner was surprised by this as he’d never heard of it. I can’t believe that. He was so impressed by the idea, he’s going to talk to electrician when he comes to do our van and ask him how much he’d charge the other owners on the site for having theirs done. Last winter, when the power was down, nothing would have prevented burst pipes if the caravans’ water systems hadn’t been drained down but apparently there are always at least two or three vans that have a burst over a normal winter anyway. Dad has said if the electrician does a deal, he expects a share of any commission. He’s a sharp cookie.

We finished all our dealings by about 1.30 so we decided to walk up to Glenashdale Falls, taking the road route rather than the forest. I knew this way as it goes right past Brook Cottage where we stayed earlier this year. By 2.30 we were at the falls, amazed at how much water was coming over them. We got rained on a little on the way up but we were all in waterproof so it was no problem.

From the falls we followed the forest track to Giants’ Graves which is an old Neolithic burial chamber that has been excavated and left to the elements. It is bound to be old if it’s Neolithic, isn’t it? Stupid woman! They are very spectacular even so. Think of Wayland Smithy but on a fell side overlooking the sea. On the zig zag down from the GG you could see the cottage we stayed at earlier on [I mentioned it in the last paragraph] Dad was miffed that he hadn’t booked that for our stay. He has got us a two bedroomer in Corrie, to the North of Brodick. I think he has chosen pretty wisely, for on my Arran map (Ordnance Survey; two and a half inches to the mile) one of the most direct paths up Goat Fell goes right past the cottage. If the weather is fine tomorrow that is what the Lollster and I are planning on doing. Sadly, it is not a Munroe but it is very spectacular and forms a brilliant Alpine Ridge with three other peaks around 2800 feet!

We drove to Corrie through Brodick and stocked up with essential supplies from the co-op. They had boxes of Pink Chill wine so I bought one to help our dinner go down. The cottage was excellent. It is part of a set of four cottages all on the same site. Its bedrooms are downstairs and the lounge / kitchen is upstairs. We could sit in the lounge after our meal and watch the ships lights go past in the Firth of Clyde. The four of us almost finished the wine box! What does that say about my family?

For her final walk, I took Callie up the start of the path to Goat Fell Summit. About 300 feet up the hillside is a huge water treatment plant which would be an ideal sneaky place to park up a camper van for the night. It was a great place for a long lingering snog with Laura and a mutual rubbing of love bumps that just got me as horny as hell and as wet as anything.

Dad & Louisa had retired by the time we got back so we finished what we’d started on the fell side. 

God, my fingers and wrist ached afterwards! I bet Laura’s did too.

I own a caravan! Rah rah rah rah!

Oh, it will be brought over and sited, plumbed in, decked et cetera in early January. I just can’t wait to come and use it.

Saturday November 16^th.

I walked Callie up the slope again to see if it looked clear, but you couldn’t tell, the Massif of the mountain blocks any view of the prevailing weather. We would have to take a chance. There was blue sky above the fell and hardly any clouds so it could be a good day for a new summit.

Laura had got the bacon ready when I got back, it had also roused the aged-parent and Louisa from their slumbers. They planned on going to Blackwaterfoot today. I persuaded them to pick us up from Brodick at about 4.30pm, which should have given enough time to climb Goat Fell; come down via the Brodick Castle path; have a look at the castle and still get into town by 4.30. As it turned out we did it quite easily but that was only because the weather changed and we didn’t stop high for as long as we’d planned.

Laura and I had out rucksacks all packed and ready and set out at 8.45am. It was cool, cloudy and quite windy as we trooped up the hill. We soon got to the end of the metalled road surface that led to the water treatment place. From there the path led on to the edge of a plantation and followed a small burn through it. On the other side of the plantation we crossed the burn, headed south and made slowly and steadily for the end of a ridge which looked like it could be one of the outlying arms of a corrie. [Hence the name of Corrie village, perhaps?] The climbing got a bit steeper up to the ridge but once there it levelled out somewhat, as ridges tend to do. Once on the ridge we could see that it wasn’t really the arm of a corrie at all.

The clouds were flying overhead at a tremendous speed, but we still couldn’t see past the bulk of the mountain into the weather to discover what it might have in store for us. The clouds and blue sky seemed about balanced but as we made our way up the ridge the blue started to disappear and more and more clouds filled the sky. After just under two hours we made the summit and had a good look around. It was a smallish summit with a trig point and a square summit marker describing the island and the mainland of Scotland surrounding it. It had distances to other places on the island and the places on the mainland too.

This was a good job, because looking west nor west, where the weather was coming from we could see a huge cloud bank rolling in. I said to Laura, “I bet that lot’ll be here in about half an hour!” Ten minutes later we were in the clouds! So much for my MLC weather training. The view went from miles to metres in a matter of minutes. Naturally I had my compass and map with me, so I took a bearing from the map along the path that takes you back to Brodick castle and after staying for another drink of tea from the flask [to give the weather chance to behave itself] we stuck out following the compass. Remembering to allow for magnetic variation, of course. The route was pretty straightforward, even in cloud. Although how anyone would have managed without a map and compass I have no idea. After about 15 minutes I thought we might have dropped out of the cloud, but no. It was still a dense blanket around us for another 20 minutes or so.

We hit the tree line before visibility began to improve and, looking back we could see the cloud hat that Goat Fell was wearing extended to all the fell tops. Glen Rosa, to our right became clear and then so did Brodick and most of the south of the island. We could see we were heading straight for Brodick Castle. Rah, rah, rah! Am I good or am I good? We walked by the outside of the castle itself at 12.05pm.

Finding a sheltered bench in the lea of the wind, we sat and ate our sangers and crisps, finished our flask of tea and gave Callie her lunch time sandwich. I was really hoping that we could have enjoyed it messing about on the summit of Goat Fell, but the clouds had put paid to that. It is really disappointing when that happens, as a major part of the attraction is the view from the top! Still, we had a new fell top to our unwritten list and could now buy one of the “I climbed Goat Fell” T shirts I had seen here on our last visit. The major disappointment was the whole of Brodick Castle was closed! Castle, shop, tea room – all closed! Boo and indeed Hoo!

We trooped through the grounds and found the pub outside the castle, the one on the Corrie road, was open and they were happy to let Callie inside. So we piled in there and had two pots of tea and a good warm through. We stayed happily sitting and gossiping with a couple of elderly ladies who had come across from Dundee for a few days and were so disappointed that the castle was closed.

They asked us where we were from [“Fairy boots ye’ll fray”] and tried to place Laura’s accent. They thought she was a Geordie. She pretended to be insulted, although I think the two accents do sound very similar. They couldn’t match my accent to a place at all. So Laura said, “If she imitates her Mum you’ll be able to tell!” So I spent a few moments being my Mum. They were both able to say, The Borders! Which was a pretty good indictment of me being Mum. I told them it was actually Edinburgh where I was born but I had lived all my childhood in Norwich, hence the lack of any accent except Mum’s. “And her Dad’s! She’s even better at her Dad.” Piped up Laura, so I was forced to be an Okker. The two ladies might have been surprised by my Hawick voice, they were astounded by my Fremantle twang, with its rising inflection at the end of each sentence; and the virtually nailed on top lip which doesn’t move at all [if you are being Dad].

It seems they were two retired school teachers who were whooping it up in their retirement. They had been retired for 10 and 8 years respectively and both from Academies rather than primary schools. They used to be Munroe baggers when they were younger but now they pottered about on the lower slopes. Morag, the older one had done them all but Caitlin had still seventeen to do when her knees gave up the ghost. I told them I had done a lot but all of those were before my 18^th birthday! I don’t carry the number around in my head, like the Wainwrights. I have it written down somewhere and I think it’s round about 115.

They were impressed by the fact that I had just gone half shares in a static caravan on the island, so I explained a bit about Dad’s house in the Lakes being like a second home and my house in Sheffield giving me access to the Peak District so Arran would be somewhere new and virtually unexplored.

At about 1.25 we left the pub and the ladies and began to saunter back towards Brodick. I texted Dad and they had “done” Blackwaterfoot and were heading to Brodick too. We arranged to meet them at Arran Aromatics, and as it was still early Dad wanted to go to the distillery in Lochranza. Being a small island we were there in next to no time. In fact, we were just in time for the 2.30pm Oak Tour of the distillery. Rah rah rah.

We had some of the malt whisky and the whisky liqueur to sample and then Dad went mad in the shop and bought half a dozen bottles! I got two bottles of Lochranza blended whisky as I had almost run out back home.

It was almost dark when we got back to the cottage and we then had to take turns using the shower. We heard about their day on the Doon while we waited. This is a plateau atop a basalt cliff. It sounds spectacular [and it is] but the plateau turns out to be boring; it is the basalt cliff section which is the most interesting bit. They had seen the clouds swoop down to cover the whole top end of the island and decided to drive back over in case we were in need of rescue. If they were still at Blackwaterfoot when I’d texted them, we were planning on catching the bus back to Corrie and finishing off the wine box!

Our evening meal was in the Brambles Seafood Grill where we had the shared seafood platter and chips. It was amazing. I think the platter cost about £60 and there was a huge range of things from the sea to eat; the chips were pretty amazing too. I had the Arran Malt Whisky and dark chocolate pot for dessert. I was a bit disappointed when it arrived as I thought it was so small but I had a real job to actually finish it all! If you like seafood their platter will tick all the boxes.

Unsurprisingly we were a bit tired by about 9.30, so I staggered with Callie along to Corrie harbour [tiny] for her last walk of the day and was almost too tired to get frisky with Laura when I got into bed. Almost!

Sunday November 17^th.

Woke up to realise that we’ll be able to this whenever we want next year. God, that is such a wonderful thought. After breakfast [the last of the bacon] we packed the car and went for a final look at Whiting Bay and the caravan site. If I wasn’t sure we should buy a cottage on Arran I am absolutely certain buying a caravan is the right idea. I am looking forward to it already. Dad is already talking about doing two copies of any new CDs he buys in the future, one for me [as always] and one for the van! I am going to buy a Satellite dish so we can get Freesat TV and Dad is going to buy the TV. He’s talking about a 40” one, which will be bigger than I have at home! I’m going to make Callie a new bean seat I don’t think I’ll get her a crate – it would take up too much room.

I have been instructed to scour Sheffield for the most interesting design of cutlery I can find and Dad is going to buy a complete set of Lewis’ saucepans for the van. [We all have Lewis’ saucepans, even Mum!]

It is so exciting!

We caught the ‘just after mid-day’ ferry back to Ardrossan and had a less speedy journey back down to Dad’s. We kept coming up with ideas for things we would need or ought to buy all through the journey. It is like setting up a home all over again. It is going to be brilliant. What makes it so much easier is that Dad and I share the same sort of tastes. So whatever we buy the other should be happy with. Roll on January.

At Dad’s we decided to stay the night and drive down to Sunny Sheff early in the morning. I am normally up at 5.30 ish with Callie, so I’ll just pour Laura onto the back seat, if she is still sleepy tired and hit the road before the traffic has woken up. We can be in Sheffield by 8 am if the roads are clear! 

Dad did a “stoup” for our meal, which is a stew / soup combined. He made it with chicken pieces and every scrap of vegetable he could find in the house. He made so much they could still be having stoup well into the new year! [It is a fine old British tradition. Pottage was the staple diet for most people during the middle ages.]

Dad walked with me and the dogs up to the Turbines again before bedtime. We chatted aimlessly until the turn around and then he gave me a huge hug, completely out of the blue. He said, “You know what I love most about you, kiddo?” [I know he is in a really good mood when he calls me kiddo.]

“Erm… that I can recite all the British monarchs from Edward the Confessor to Liz 2, in order - with their dates?”

“Nope. It’s not that. Although that does help.”

“Is it because I can remember almost every Monty Python sketch from those records of yours you kept playing over and over when I was a child?”

“Well, in a way it is…”

“Go on then, Aged P. You’ll have to spill the beans or I will be forced to strap you to a turbine blade and flay you with blackthorn branches every time you spin past me.”

“That is it. That IS exactly it. You are a grown woman. A beautiful grown woman. But…” [Oh Dear!] 

“You are still a little girl inside!”

“I take after you then, Dad.”

“I’m not a little girl.”

“Yes, you are!”

“No I’m not…”

What is there not to love about my Dad, eh?

(Conversation between aged parent and twenty something daughter, reported as well as I can remember, because we spent the whole of the walk back down the hill sword fighting with dead cow parsley heads. Which is extremely difficult by torch light. I am Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!)