An ordinary Friday

We are up early this morning, around six thirty, as I have promised to take Louis to school for Sarah, and I hate rushing. It is still dark outside when I let Norman out, except for a glimmer of gold to the eastern horizon. I breakfast on smoked salmon with cream cheese served on rye toast. Normy has to make do with dry dog food today. After a reviving shower, I dress warmly and drive to Sarah's house down North Bar Without, arriving at eight fifteen. Alice is brushing her long blonde hair and Louis struggling to put on his socks, when I get there. With a little help from me, Louis completes his dressing and then we retrieve Norman from the car and set off for Saint Mary's primary school. It is a fine morning, the early cloud breaking up to let through the sun, as we cross the road and then walk along the broad pavement, where North Bar turns into New Walk. This pavement stands a little back from the road and a row of trees stands between us and the traffic. Louis holds my hand and we wait while Normy deposits treasure amongst the fallen leaves, which I recover with a piece of kitchen roll and leave in a waste bin, a little further along the road. Past the police station on the other side of the road, we turn left into Bleach Yard, a long, narrow, walled lane, that runs alongside Saint Mary's cemetery. The bricks in the walls are very old and hand made, they have eroded with the years, to provide fertile ground for mosses, grasses, ferns and small plants. At the bottom of the lane are Bleach Yard stables and we pause for a while to watch a couple of stable girls mucking out, as two horses look on with interest. Louis has been here with school and fed carrots to the horses, which he remembers he did with his palm held flat, but can't remember why. It is because horses have long noses and can't see your hand when they eat and are likely to mistake fingers for carrots, I tell him. Past the stables and we turn onto the school road, which lies a hundred yards further on. We tie the dog to the railings and walk into the playground, where a number of parents and children are waiting for the school doors to open. I ask Louis if he wants to play for five minutes, but he opts to sit next to me on a bench, this is not like him, but he wants to discuss which presents Santa Claus might bring him at Christmas. We have been calculating the days to Christmas Eve as we walked. The doors open, Louis gives me a hug and then runs happily into school. I gather Norman and we retrace our steps back to the car where I retrieve my walking boots from the back of the car and put them on, while sitting on Sarah's step, before driving to Cherry Burton to collect Dolly and Teddy. We are on the Westwood for nine fifteen and it is another lovely day for walking, although the wind has stiffened to a force six and its full blast greets me once we have emerged from the woods of Newbegin Pits. We make our way to Black Mill and then north to the small wood at Newbald Pits, there is a bench here, next to a bramble patch, that is sheltered from the wind and faces south into the sun. I sit on this for a few minutes with Norman alongside me, enjoying the warm sunshine on my face. The terriers are suddenly alert, and moments later an elderly man emerges from the path by the brambles with two Jack Russell's. He comments on my fine seat and so Norman and I shuffle up to make room for him, then we discuss the merits of the Jack Russell breed. Dolly and Teddy are both Jack Russell, Yorkshire Terrier, crosses. After ten minutes or so we both go our separate ways, he towards Black Mill and we back alongside Newbald Road to the car. After dropping the terriers back at Two Riggs, we head home, I feed Norman with a handful of dry dog food, Then mix up a batch of oatmeal biscuits with sultanas and put them in the oven to bake. I have promised Leslie that I will help him order his online groceries today and said I would be there about two thirty, so once the biscuits are cooked a lovely golden brown, I set them to cool, grab my swimming bag and drive to the Leisure centre. After changing, I enter the water at twelve thirty, there are no classes today and so the pool is quiet, at least until the schools restart after lunch. Colin, another regular, is in the next lane and we chat for a minute or so before we both push off for our swim. I repeat Wednesday's session of 3 x 400m on back, breast and freestyle before switching to 4 x 200m individual medley, changing lanes as a class of children join the pool at a quarter past one, to warm down with an easy 100m backstroke and the same on freestyle. After showering and changing, I drink tea in the cafe and chat to John, one of the instructors, about Hull City and their promotion chances, he used to be a professional footballer before a severe knee injury prematurely ended his career. So he is both a fan and knowledgeable about the game, City are fourth in the league and he thinks we have a good chance of promotion back to the premiership. Leslie is waiting for me when I arrive at Cedar Grove, the doctor has been, as he is still struggling with a sinus infection. We sit and chat for half an hour, mostly about the American election, before making our way into his office, to see to his online ordering. I sit and provide moral support while he logs into the Waitrose site, he wants to repeat a previous order, so ticks the box to do this, but then cannot find his way to checkout. So repeats the process but to no avail. I suggest he returns to shopping, as this seems a likely route, although I am not sure, as I don't use this website. We eventually find checkout and see he has ordered nearly £250 worth of groceries and on closer examination, find he has repeated his previous order three times! Undaunted we go through the list, item by item and reduce the quantities down to what he requires. The final bill is £59, or so, delivery is booked for Monday afternoon, he inputs his credit card details and we save the information, so that he doesn't need to do this next time. Leslie is inordinately grateful, and waves me off when I leave a few minutes before four. His road is choked with parents waiting in parked cars for their children to emerge from Longcroft Secondary school, across the road. I navigate my way through them and then call in at Tesco's to buy asparagus, a baguette and a bottle of Chardonnay, before driving home. Norman is waiting for me and after letting him into the garden, I open his tin of dog meat, before making dinner. I break the woody ends off the asparagus and fry the tips gently in butter, while adding some spaghetti to a pan of boiling salted water. The pasta and the vegetables are ready in ten minutes. After draining the pasta, I toss it into the wok, in which I have fried the asparagus, in order to coat it in butter and juices. Then I sprinkle it with black pepper, add shavings of Gran Padano cheese and serve it piping hot, accompanied by a glass of Chardonnay and crusty bread. Apart from a couple of oaties with my tea at the leisure centre, I have eaten nothing since breakfast, and after my swim, I am ravenous. The pasta hits the spot and Norman is reduced to cleaning the traces of butter from my clean plate, before we set out for his evening walk. It is completely dark outside and there are spots of rain in the wind, we walk through the village, as far as the post office and then turn down Carr Lane. The only light comes from the occasional house, until we reach the snickett that takes us back to Green Lane and street lighting. Here I let him off the lead and he wags his tail as we play the "praise and pat", game as we make our way home in the rain, which is now falling steadily. There is a text on my phone from my niece, Rachel, Jackie's daughter, she has been made redundant, for the second time in over a year. I text back to say I will talk to her over the weekend, I think she has her CV on Linked In, so I will ask Andrew to look at it and see if he can help. Later I book the tickets online for the Met's Telecast of the "Tempest", tomorrow evening and then start a new book, Yasmina Khadra's, "What the day owes the night". To bed around eleven.