Dominant Tigers and a shared chicken

We wake just before eight, to another cloudy and mild day, but at least it isn't raining when Norman trots out into the garden and then returns to the aroma of Sainsbury's outdoor reared pork sausages cooking along with the rest of our breakfast. The sausages taste as good as they smell and have very little fat, not that Normy would care much either way. After breakfast, I scan the Guardian, the left wing of the Conservative party are concerned about the party's negative stance on Europe, but the right wing, euro sceptic, ideologues, seem to be driving the agenda. Fortunately between them and UKIP, the chances of the Conservatives being the largest party after the election seems low, however a coalition of UKIP and the Conservatives would be a nightmare scenario. The rest of the paper is padded out with lists for the New Year, including honours, and doesn't interest me much. Our football tickets still haven't arrived and after showering and dressing, I walk down to the little bridge at the bottom of Carr Lane with Norman and fall in step with a neighbour, Betty, who lives a few doors away and her schnauzer, Nelly, who are making the same trip. Normy perks up with the company and enjoys his walk this morning. I leave the house around twenty minutes to eleven and drive to Cherry Burton to collect Andrew, who has just returned from walking Dolly and Teddy round the village. We drive down the main road to Hull and arrive at the KC stadium car park a little after half past eleven, the rain has started to fall as we drove in and the heavens open, in a stupendous cloudburst, as we pay for our parking tickets. The poor attendants are soaked to the skin. We park up and wait five minutes for the rain to ease a little, before collecting our tickets, after a short queue, from the office. The reason they hadn't arrived in the post, is because no one had posted them, although I paid for the privilege. It isn't the time to argue over £1.50, as this is the biggest game of the season and a complete sell out. We arrive in our seats, in the upper West Stand, with half an hour to spare, Andrew with a coffee and a pie and I with just a tea, as breakfast doesn't seem too long ago. Up here we have a superb view of the pitch and the atmosphere is electric, Leeds have brought almost five thousand fans, who are seated in the adjacent North Stand and in full voice. In the event, the match is totally one sided, the Tigers dominate from start to finish and win 2 : 0 , but miss at least half a dozen clear chances, we still lack an out and out striker, one who would be able to put these chances away. After the match, we retire to the sports bar and order a couple of beers and some crisps, whilst we wait for the car park to empty. One of the Hull fans says that Leeds United's top player, Luciano Becchio, a striker who didn't feature today, has been rumoured to be signing for Hull when the transfer window opens on Tuesday. He is a good striker, but rumours abound in football and I will believe it when it happens. We leave at half past three, the car park is empty, but the roads are thronged with shoppers and so it is almost half past four when I drop Andrew back in Cherry Burton. Before I leave, he gives me an envelope, with my Xmas card and some gift vouchers for iTunes and Waterstones inside, so some happy browsing is to be anticipated. I thank Andrew and then drive home to Norman and ladle out a bowl of chicken casserole for him, before loading the rest into my car and driving to Leslie's house for five. He is looking much better when I arrive, and tells me he had his helper shampoo his hair this morning, has phoned his nephews and nieces and watched the racing on Channel four. I serve out our casserole and slice a baguette into chunks and we eat dinner together, Leslie clears his plate and I have to admit that it tasted OK. Afterwards I make coffee for us on the espresso machine and we chat for a while, until I can see the old boy is tiring, so I arrange to call again tomorrow, after church and he says he would like to walk up the lane again, definite progress! The casserole and I leave and then drive to Felicity's house down Albert Terrace, she has already had dinner, but gives me a Pyrex bowl into which I scoop the remains of the chicken, which is to be saved for dinner tomorrow. I reserve a dollop for her two dogs, Sam and Molly. Felicity looks like she has gone ten rounds with Joe Frazier, one eye completely blackened and the other bruised, but not as badly, her left leg is also painful as the result of a fall. The bruises made worse by the anticoagulants she is on. Her son, Stuart has just left, and given her a collection of Russian poems, which she already has and so I become the beneficiary of her recycling. She is tired and sore, so I don't stay too long and help her back to her chair in front of the television and put a cushion under her legs before leaving. Her daughter Melissa is due in ten minutes or so in order to spend the evening with her. On my way home, I pop into the supermarket and restock on vegetables, milk and shaving foam, before returning to Norman in Tickton, mercifully the rain has stopped and a full moon is shining on the village when I take him for his evening walk, so last night's moon must have been just off the full, my eyes aren't as good as they once were. It has been a hectic day and I am starting to feel tired, but check my email before going to bed. Clement has sent me the photo's from the match and I post some on Wednesday's blog. There is also a Xmas card on the mat, and when I open it, it has a picture of a snow covered dachshund, that looks very much like a younger version of Normy, it is from Graham and Liliane in Holland. I turn in early tonight, as I have another busy day tomorrow, dog walking, Mass at nine, Leslie at ten thirty and then a drive to Scarborough with Norman to see Irene and David. To bed for nine thirty.