Friday 13th December.
I am not superstitious. Touch wood.
To be honest I think a lot of superstitions are hokum,
although some like never taking the third light from a match, for example, is
based on common sense. It originates from World War One because by the time of
a third lighting of a cigarette, from the same match, an enemy sniper would
have drawn a bead on the light, making a shot towards it inevitable. Spilled
salt thrown over your shoulder defies logic, though.
After we got back from the pool, I had a call from Steve just
before we left for Uni asking if I’d like to bring Callie to walk up on a shoot
tomorrow. They want new pickers-up [a rarity in itself] and I have been
suggested. I am to go tomorrow with Callie to introduce her to the shoot and
the idea of picking up. She has only been on rough shoots with me and a couple
of other people, not a formal driven one, so she will be wearing “L” plates
tomorrow. If she passes the test we will be put on the rota! She is a good
retriever and knows what to do.
I am so excited. It is a good way to keep my dog in sharp
form and get paid for doing it. The shoot is not too far from me, over some
moorland and coppices near Ladybower. So it’s hardly any distance to travel at
all. Although I have not been on one of these events before I am sure we will
not disgrace ourselves.
At Uni there was no news of the Union’s letter but things
did develop during the day elsewhere! I have been researching patterns for
caskets and found a wealth of designs for 17th Century ones but the
Tudor and Plantagenet times seem to be less common. There are a lot of designs
for stripes and bands of embroidery but nothing on the lines of the 17th
century ones. I have a lot of floral shapes and geometric patterns which remind
me of early Islamic artwork. I’ve also uncovered some very naïve figures and
scenes. The majority of what I have found is, quite understandably, ecumenical;
altar cloths, vestment decorations and the like. There are masses of pictures
of these available and quite a few extant examples to view although the
stitches are also quite limited in their range.
Isn’t it bloody typical, fcuking politicians get hold of
stuff and turn it arse about face. It seems though, that in this case twatneck Cameron’s
inept bumbling about UUK may produce results despite his useless, and lacking
any comprehension, intervention. The interview with the UUK spokesperson on PM
[BBC Radio 4] was an embarrassment to listen to, as the Students’ Union rep
tore into her facile and specious arguments. At times she had the poor idiot
drivelling around try to get a handle on the proceedings without success.
Then on the 6 o’clock news fcuking bastard Cameron opens his
gob and says he is against segregation, without seeming to have a clue what the
fcuk he was talking about. That is typical for him though. Still, if it means a
change of policy from UUK then it can’t be a bad thing. Even if it has been
achieved by default as it were.
I have now seen all my tutees for their final time before we
go down. They are mostly whacked out from a long term and new experiences. I
remember my first term at Uni only too well, I was whacked out from being drunk
so much and on my back so often. I cannot believe how wanton I was during those
three months. [I did pay for it though in February of the following year!]
Interesting gossip, Felice is driving over to Lancaster this
weekend to see a certain Mr Radford!
Mmmm…. I hope she doesn’t get her fingers
burned. He did seem to be a bit of an opportunistic sleeze bag to me, but maybe
that was because I wouldn’t let him fcuk me after Dad’s reception. Perhaps he
and Felice will make a good couple. [I don’t believe I am writing that. Ha ha
ha!]
Laura was rushed ragged again at the restaurant. She has
come home absolutely dead beat three times this week, I wonder if she is
overdoing stuff a little? Tonight she sat in the boingy chair in the lounge and
asked for a glass of something nice of my choosing. By the time I had brought
her a chilled and iced Kummel she was sparko!
She wound her weary way up the wooden hills and hit the
charp without even having a shower! So unlike her. I snuggled up with her and
stroked her hair. She was fast asleep in minutes. I kissed her on the forehead
before going back down to sort out the lights, the dog and the washing up. As I
did so she muttered, “Night Mum!”
Saturday December 14th.
I asked Laura if she wanted a lie-in instead of going
swimming but she was raring to go and we had done our 100 lengths [Yaay, back
up to target!] as usual by 7am. We gossiped with Sarah over our hot chocolate
from the vending machine about Christmas plans. She is looking forward to some
time off work but is dreading Christmas Day. The in-laws are coming round and
it is becoming a bit of a tradition. We advised that she books a Holiday over
the Christmas period next year then she can avoid the boorish rellies!
Callie and I were out and ready by 9am. I had put my gun in
the boot but I didn’t need it. There were a good dozen people there with around
20 dogs all ready to sweep up the fields and pick up the game.
Callie and I
were put in the middle of the line with Steve and told to observe rather than
go. If we were asked then we could put her training into practice.
She had proved herself pretty sensible and calm after the
first two drives so on the third they'd organised, a guy called Dave said I could
work Callie too. She absolutely loved it and found everything I sent her for.
Most of them were blind marks, obviously, but she works really well to the
whistle and hand signals. We had lunch after the third drive and sat in an old
shepherd’s hut eating our sangers and drinking from flasks. I had brought a
wodge of Chicken salad sandwiches and I could have eaten the whole lot again!
After lunch we had two more drives at different locations
and we were transported there in a wagon pulled behind a tractor. It was a good
job it wasn’t raining or we’d have been drenched. Callie brought all I sent her
for on the next drive with no problems at all and Dave actually commented on
how good she was, for a Weimaraner! Cheeky sod!
On the last drive I had an embarrassing moment though. I had
sent for a pheasant at the edge of the coppice we were clearing and she took
ages to find it. When she did come waddling back, little stumping wagging like
billyo, she had brought a rabbit! I was completely astounded. The bird was a
pheasant! OK, it was a blind mark but a pheasant had definitely gone down in
the trees at the far end.
What the fcuk was the silly pup doing with a rabbit
in her gob? To say there were hoots of laughter was an understatement. We
[Callie and I] had to endure all sorts of stupid comments, the best was,
“You’re right, you know. Weimaraners are Magic! She’s just turned a pheasant
into a rabbit!” I had defended Callie’s corner from the scorn and derision of
the Labrador owners when we first arrived. One of the things I had said was,
“You’ll see, she is magic!” Oh how the things we say come back to bite us on
the bum, eh?
How the hell the dead rabbit had got into the coppice we had
no idea. It couldn’t have been shot by any of the guns. Steve, Dave and I
looked more closely at the rabbit after Callie’s perfect sit and present. The
damn thing had been shot but was very cold. Obviously it was a previous day’s
[or night’s] kill which hadn’t been found. Rigor had been and gone which meant
it had been shot quite some time ago.
The game keeper wandered over to see what the strange bird
the Weimy had brought back was. More laughter ensued. It is a good job Callie
didn’t understand what was going on. The keeper dispatched his spaniel into the
coppice and found nothing either. So, the supposed blind mark couldn’t have
been a kill after all, it was quite probably a runner once down! I think the
fact Callie had kept going until she found something to bring back for me
showed what a well-trained puppy she was. I didn’t say anything though.
The keeper went back and had a laugh at the Guns’ expense
pretending one of them had shot it, and couldn’t they tell the difference
between a pheasant and a rabbit? I was hoping I’d get to keep it and cook it to
match Laura’s surprise but the Keeper held on to it instead. That was a blow.
After all it was Callie’s rabbit!
At divvy up time we all got a brace of birds and £35. Not an
earth shattering amount but it was a local syndicate shoot, made up of ordinary
people. There were no Lords, ladies or Right Honourables among this lot. Just a
few Policemen, a doctor and several other assorted professions who had clubbed
together to form their own group. The plus side of all this was they were quite
happy to chat with us “pickers up” and even had time for a laugh and joke
before we all got tractored back to where the cars were parked. My dog’s
magical abilities were a source of more amusement to those who hadn’t heard the
story yet.
I was told that I should change my dog’s name to Harry
[Potter], I had to reply that I hoped their eyesight was better than that when
looking down their guns because their Harry would have to be a Hermione! That
got a laugh, too! I was asked if I shot as well as worked Callie and was met
with nodding approval when I told them I did and then told them what gun I had. [Beretta 686, over and under,
multichoke, single trigger, 26” barrel.] I explained I had done a fair bit
rough shooting but not any driven formal ones like this. They thought me
thinking their little group formal was amusing, and I was regaled with tales of
shooting on the grouse moors of Scotland, where some of the guns flew in using
their own, private helicopters!
A couple of the policemen went up to Scotland each summer
for the Grouse and earner over £100 per day doing what we had just done.
Apparently the money was splashed about like confetti and a day’s shooting
could cost each gun up to £20 thousand!! I nearly choked on my mug of tea at
that. £20K for a day’s shooting? That is just silly.
Steve was of the opinion that Callie and I had done well,
and the rabbit incident would certainly get me remembered for next time. I hope
so. It was a really enjoyable day, tiring but great fun and a good work out for
Callie. She flopped on the floor of the trailer and snoozed her little head
off. She did the same in the boot of
Steve’s Freelander too, on the way back home. He asked me if I wanted both
birds and I said one would do, why? He could get £40 for a brace at one of the
pubs in the village, if I was interested? So I agreed and just took one
pheasant to hang in the shed for a few days until Chrimbo. Steve will give me
the dosh after he next goes to the pub.
It was dark when we got back and I had to wash Callie down.
She was as mudded up as hell. Laura filled the large old linen basket with warm
water and I made the magical pub stand in it while I washed her down. I then
used two dog towels to dry her off. When I had done Laura came out on the back
yard and said, “OK, strip off and get in. Your turn!”
Rather than strip in the back yard, which I have done
before, we actually decamped to the bathroom where I did what I was told. Mmmm….
Delicious.
I was so pleased with the dog, the day and Laura’s reaction
to my going. I had thought she might object but she was fine with it. It seems
she had spent the day making a scrumptious beef casserole with suet dumplings
and doing the entire backlog of her University work, so she has now completed
her end of semester assignment a week before the semester ends. She has the
same work ethic as me!
We spent the evening just chilling and playing each other
songs with a connection. We had to guess the connection. This was rather silly
and quite mentally taxing; especially with two Laura played where the
connection was - “My sister bought them for me!” How was I supposed to know
that?
An early night was the ideal end to a very busy day.
Sunday December 15th.
I had a bit of a lie-in this morning. 7 am! I think the
puppy was whacked out after all her exertions yesterday. Certainly her mistress
was. Callie didn’t pad upstairs at 6 as
usual; she was finally out of her bean seat at about 6.50. I then spent a good
10 minutes play fighting with her on the bedroom floor whilst Laura slept on.
We had a ‘potter about morning’ made even less busy by the
fact there was so much beef casserole left we didn’t need to prep anything for
our lunch, just add a few more veggies. I did cook some spuds for a mash to go
with it, but that was the extent of our efforts.
I Skyped Suze in Australia and was pleased to learn that my
three boxes of pressies had arrived. Always good news.
The kids had wanted to open them immediately but Suze has
told them they are Christmas presents and will wait until Christmas Day. Peter
came on screen to gloat about Australia being just about to win back the Ashes.
I have teased him about the last two Ashes defeats so much he is glad to get
his own back. [I haven’t told him that there is a betting ticket, hopefully
still in Annabelle’s purse, from the summer where I got 100-1 on a 5-0 series
victory for Australia. I put $50 on at those odds. It seemed like a silly thing
at the time but if the Okkers win the next two tests there will be $5K in prize
money!]
I thanked Suze for the Western Australia calendars. She always
sends two, a desk one in a CD case and a huge wall one. The wall one goes in my
kitchen, I am going to take the desk one to my “broom cupboard”. She was
surprised the present parcel hadn’t arrived though. She posted it ‘surface/air’
at the end of November. I told her I would call as soon as it got here.
They have all enjoyed looking at the CD of Jane’s ultra
sound scans. It sparked a whole load of discussion in the family about babies
and pregnancy and the like. Apparently Jeff is just grossed out by the whole
idea. Not really a twelve year old’s thing I suppose. Suze asked me the question: “Has it made you broody?”
Sometimes my sister can be a pain. The girls wanted to know what being broody
meant and Suze left me to explain. Thanks a bunch!
Annabelle asked her if she had been made broody looking at
the new baby. She told Annabelle that three were enough for any one and anyway
she was too old! She’s just turned 39! I had to bite my tongue at this, as part
of my forward thinking is that I may delay children until my late thirties. The
last thing you need to hear is that it is too late at 39. Especially if these
words come from a nurse!
We spent a good 55 mins on the net together and I have
promised to call again next Sunday from Dad’s house. He will be in transit to
Warnbro by then and I will be house sitting. I hope he has got his broadband
sorted out. It was buggered last time I was there, and the mobile phone mast
was fcuked too, by the gales, so I was virtually incommunicado for the whole
weekend!
I love being able to talk to the whole lot of my family like
that. It is Star Trek technology in the 21st century and it is so
much better than writing or e-mailing. They all thought Callie’s turning a pheasant
into a rabbit was funny and Suze did express the thought that she missed snow!
They have been out in Aus since 2002 and haven’t had any white stuff at all.
Jeff didn’t even know what snow was! How weird is that?
I told them if we got some in Cumbria [which we will] when I’m
at Dad’s; I will parcel some up and sent it over, especially for them!
I had several more calls during the arvo. Mum. Felice. Phil
and Jane. Mandy. Laura called her Mum, too, and explained what was happening
over Christmas [again]. We are going up to Cumbria on Friday evening and
driving Dad to Glasgow airport early on Saturday morning. We are staying in
Cumbria until the end of January, returning to Sheffield for a week in the
middle for two concerts and then again at a weekend for a play. That way we will
not leave my little house empty for more than 30 days [insurance complications
if we did] and we won’t miss the things we’ve booked in January. Molly has
invited us both to her house for Christmas dinner – this will be a packed
affair as her two older daughters [Kirsten and Avril], their spouses and their children
are coming for it too! Laura has asked if she can decide in the week as I have
silly plans afoot. She didn’t tell her Mum what those silly plans are.
I saw in the paper that UUK has decided to withdraw its
segregationist guidelines to all Universities. Rah rah rah. Result for common
sense.
We had a second early night in a row. We didn’t get to sleep
immediately though…
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