Friends, a college girl, and a snowball in the eye.

We are up early and out by ten past nine, after the usual full English and a shower. The grey weather persists and the outside temperature reads plus one degree Celsius, as we drive to Cherry and collect the terriers, before parking along Newbald Road again. The overnight frost has made the snow crisp and it hasn't had time to thaw and soften yet, so the going underfoot is good, and there is no wind, as high pressure is still in charge of the weather, the uniform grey sky probably just low cloud. This suspicion is confirmed later, when faint streaks of blue appear overhead, as we approach Black Mill, but to our east, the cloud is a darker, thicker grey and small flecks of snow drift down, as we make our way back to the car. I have arranged to drive Felicity to the Poppy Seed, so after returning Dolly and Teddy to Pip's, Normy and I make our way to Albert Terrace. There is nowhere to park, so I stop on four way flashers in the road and help the old girl into the car, the irate motorists behind me suddenly comprehending the nature and cause of their inconvenience and becoming more understanding. It is less than a two hundred yards drive to the Poppy Seed, but impossible in these icy conditions for her to walk and when we arrive there, I use the flashers again, until she is safely indoors, and then miraculously find a parking space outside the Beverley Arms Hotel, a few yards further on. Hanne and Thelma are already in residence with Fliss, at our usual table, when I enter with Normy and urged to try some hot chocolate that "The Great Dane", is drinking. It has a little extra something in it, namely a large shot of whiskey, from a little bottle that Hanne has secreted in her handbag. Felicity hasn't been out for several days and is delighted to see her friends again, around half past eleven, Barbara comes in and reports progress on the "Save our Setts" campaign, the civic society informed the archeology department about their removal and an archeologist has been sent along to monitor the work, apparently, in medieval times, the bishop's palace used to stand where the setts are laid in Saturday Market and if anything turns up, the work could be halted for months until it has been carefully excavated. For an elderly history professor, Barbara certainly knows how to fight dirty! A little later, John Geekie, the artist who drew Norman, comes in with his wife and gives Normy a pat, before moving further along and settling down for lunch. The new Spielberg film, Lincoln, with Daniel Day Lewis in the lead role, opens on Friday and we decide to form a party to go to see it next Wednesday afternoon and then, perhaps, have tea at Harper's fish and chip cafe afterwards, taking advantage of their "two for a tenner", deal. Felicity is delivered safely home, after first bidding goodbye to her friends and then Norman and I drive back to Tickton. As I get out of the car, I realise that she has left her walking stick in the back, so I will need to drop it off when I collect Alice later for her interview at Wyke College later. Indoors Normy is demanding lunch, so I give him a small portion of Baker's and a bowl of fresh water, before making tomato soup for myself, which I eat with the last of yesterday's baguette. Alice and I are eating out after her appointment, so I don't want to stuff myself at lunchtime. The bedding I put on to wash before leaving this morning, is done, so I take it out of the washer and lay the duvet cover to dry on the long radiator in the lounge and the pillowcases on the one in my bedroom. Next it is time to book the FA cup tickets for the match against Barnsley on Saturday, they are remarkably cheap, £8 for me and only £1 for Louis, unfortunately it is too late to have them posted, so I will either have to drive into Hull, or collect them with Louis, before the game. Having made a donation of oaties to Lesley yesterday, I find they are running low again, so decide to make another batch, but find there isn't enough oatmeal! So undeterred, substitute whole meal flour with a dash of rye instead, and find there seems to be rather more dough than I had planned, but no problem, I just cut thicker biscuits and then place them in the oven, for the usual 35 minutes. While they bake, I read more of Stephen Fry's autobiography, which is amusing enough, but I have to fight my institutional prejudice against posh folks, and can't help but think that a working class kid who had experienced the same problems as he, namely; addiction, lying, cheating and thieving, would almost certainly have ended up in jail, rather than becoming a national treasure. The oven pings and my biscuits are underdone, so they are returned for a further five minutes, which is insufficient, and then a further ten, until eventually, they are cooked through. By now it is a quarter to four and time to drive to Beverley, but first I feed Norman and then let him into the garden. Felicity's walking stick is dropped off en route and Alice collected and delivered to Wyke College, down Bricknall Avenue in Hull, for five o'clock. Her interview isn't until quarter past, so the receptionist points us towards some transparent orange seats and tables further down the Hall and asks us to wait. The sixth form college is fairly new and quite impressive, it is very clean and the architecture gives it a light and airy feel. A young blond man, in his mid thirties, dressed in jeans, a green sweater and red checked shirt and tie, collects us and takes us into the Library for the interview. He is very pleasant, but also brisk and business like and guides Alice skilfully through her interview, before offering her a place. She has opted to take history, geography, sociology, and French at A level and is clearly looking forward to the transition from school to college. During the last three years, she has had to take up a large portion of the burden of looking after Louis, while her mum completed her podiatry degree, so I hope she can enjoy college, make some friends and also work hard and do well. Afterwards we adjourn to the West Bulls Pub, at the top end of Bricknall Avenue, and treat ourselves to a carvery dinner. Alice is delivered home, full and happy, for half past six. Sarah is making dinner for Louis, who is sporting a slight black eye and a scratched face, apparently he snowballed one of the bigger kids, he tends to play with at school, and got one back in response. He is undeterred, and when I ask him why he doesn't play with the other five year olds, he replies that they are too soft and don't like to wrestle. As I am leaving, Andrew phones me on my mobile, so I sit in Sarah's lounge and bring him up to speed on my PSA situation, although there isn't much to tell until I have seen Mr. Cooksey, the consultant urologist and I haven't even received an appointment yet. Andrew is in Hemel Hempstead on business and won't be back until tomorrow night, so I promise to keep him up to speed, as soon as I have any further information. Norman is waiting for me when I arrive home, wagging his tail and barking furiously, he has forgotten that he has had dinner and just has to make do with a pat instead. Later I read some more Stephen Fry and then fold and pack way my clean bed linen before climbing into bed.