Fish and chips twice!

The alarm goes off at seven thirty, I am taking Louis to Hector's house for ten and Felicity to her sister's for ten thirty, providing she is well enough, and there is the dog to walk, so I have a full schedule. I use up the last of the Sainsbury's smoked salmon and serve it on toast with cream cheese for me and on bread for Normy. After breakfast I read the Guardian over my coffee and then shower and dress, load Norman into the car and drive to North Bar for nine thirty, deciding to walk Normy with Louis before delivering him to play school. We walk down York Road and then cut through a connecting alleyway onto Seven Corner's Lane, a car is reversing down the alley, it stops and a lady emerges, who lives in the house to our left, she and her husband are often in the Poppy Seed and always stop to say hello. She tells me that her husband has died of an aneurism, just before Xmas, he was about my age, or perhaps slightly younger, I express my condolences, give her a hug and then have to move on, as Louis is becoming bored and doesn't seem to comprehend what she has said. A little later, he asks me if I am going to die as well, and I tell him that everyone and everything that was ever born eventually dies. The next question is tougher, why, he asks? I ask him if he remembers going on the roundabout at the seaside last summer, and he says he does, then I ask if he remembers queuing, waiting for a place to become free, and he answers yes once more. "Well life is like that, old people have to get off the roundabout in order to make room for young people to get on it". He seems to accept this and then tells me Alice has googled the population of the world, and that there are seven billion of us. Norman does his duty, and when we return to North Bar, I load the pair of them into the car and drive to Hector's House, Suzanne, the proprietress, says it is OK to pick him up at four, although Sarah has booked until five thirty and Louis is happy with this. I phoned Felicity before leaving home and she feels well enough for the short ride to her sister Joy's house, which is a hundred yards further down North Bar Without than Sarah's. The main problem is finding somewhere to park near Albert Terrace, where Fliss lives, but eventually I squeeze into a space on Westwood Road, round the corner, as someone else leaves. It is less than a hundred yards to Albert Terrace, but on the return trip, with Felicity on my arm, she has to stop twice to get her breath, before she squeezing into the front seat of the Chrysler. Westwood road is quite narrow and with cars parked on both sides, effectively becomes a single track road, so rather than try to manoeuvre a three point turn in heavy traffic, I take the old girl by the scenic route over the Westwood towards Walkington and then back down Newbald Road, thus ensuring she sees both sides of the common that she loves so well. I am able to park outside Joy's front door, and we are lead into her new kitchen, an extension which has been built on the back of the house, with a sloping glass roof. Apparently it had been planned when they moved in ten years ago, but delayed because Joy's husband, Marcus, became terminally ill. He died last year, so Joy completed the work that he had planned. It is my kind of living kitchen, airy, light and with lots of working space and a traditional, deep, old fashioned sink. In volume it must be four or five times the size of my little kitchen in the bungalow, though I doubt it sees as much action. Joy makes coffee for her sister and herself and I have tea, then we chat pleasantly for half an hour or so, until Felicity starts to flag and asks to be taken home, we thank Joy, leave and call at the cashpoint en route home, so that she can withdraw money for the weekend. There is a space on double yellow lines opposite her house, so I park on four way flashers and see her safely back into her little sitting room, before driving Normy and I back to Tickton. We arrive in bright sunshine, it is another mild, almost springlike day, so we take a stroll round the village before lunch. On the homeward stretch, I let him off the lead and he disappears beneath a mature Lelandii hedge into someone's garden, but fortunately reemerges after five minutes when I call him. Once indoors, I put on the oven and then make a quick lunch of fish fingers, chips and garden peas, having resisted the temptation to swim, as I will need all my energy for Louis this afternoon. Lunch is served for one o'clock, Normy having a couple of fish fingers, some peas and a couple of chips as well. Later I recover my dry socks and towels from the radiators and put them away, do some admin and then it is time for me to collect Louis. We arrive in North Bar just before half past four, Alice lets us in, and Louis has a banana and a drink while I let them decide what they would like for dinner. The vote is unanimous, they want fish and chips at Harper's cafe down Lairgate and despite the déjà vu from lunch I agree, but first we walk Norman round the loop of Seven Corners Lane again. It is quite dark, but a lovely clear night with bright shiny stars, Louis wants to talk football, he has been playing at the crèche, and says he scored a couple of goals. He wants to play tomorrow, but we will have to leave by twelve thirty in order to collect his cousins from Pip's in Cherry Burton, for the Panto in Hull, so it may not be possible. We take Norman back to Sarah's, collect Alice, and then walk through town to Harper's. Where we are the only ones in the cafe, but the service is prompt, the food freshly cooked and plentiful. Perhaps too plentiful, as I ordered a small haddock, and it looks anything but when it arrives. My grandchildren love it and tuck in enthusiastically while we chat happily over dinner, until the bill arrives around six o'clock. Even the bill is good, it is only £20 for the three of us, and we discover that their two meals for ten pound offer, now runs from a Monday through until Thursday, no good today though as it is Friday! We vote the cafe a success, leave a tip, and promise to come back. I insist we walk the long way back through town, to try to offset the double helping of fish and chips for lunch and dinner. Louis window shops for books and toys and tells Alice and I, that this is the best Christmas ever, and he still has the pantomime to come. Back home, I let him watch television until half past seven and then pack him off to bed with a grandad story, not surprisingly one about football where Louis wins a trip to train with the tigers. Once he is asleep, I drive back to Tickton to pick up a change of clothes for tomorrow and then return to North Bar and read my book until ten before sleeping in Sarah's bed, Normy has stayed in the kitchen in his basket, which I brought with me.