Waiting for snow

It is an early start this morning and we rise to the alarm on my iPad at a quarter to seven, I click on my bedside lamp, switch off the alarm and then check to see if the BT broadband is back, after crashing again last night. Surprise, surprise, it is still down! Breakfast is smoked salmon on cream cheese for me and Baker's dog food for Norman, as the cream cheese doesn't agree with him. Day breaks as I drink my coffee and it is a bright, but slightly clouded sky, with ominous looking snow clouds on the eastern horizon. The news is dominated by the Al Quieda massacre in Algeria and the very heavy snowfalls in the south west and Wales, apparently the snow will arrive here later today. I feel a little achey this morning, the sinutabs are keeping my nasal passages open, but the infection is taking a while to clear. We leave the house at ten past eight and drive to Sarah's house in North Bar Without, in order to collect Louis and then walk him to school. After first making sure that he is properly wrapped up against the cold, we set off, the air temperature has risen to minus one Celsius, but a bitterly cold wind is blowing from the south east, so it actually feels colder than yesterday. Nothing bothers Louis, he is full of talk about Rugby League, he was watching Rugby on TV last night with Sarah's boyfriend Richard, who is a big fan of Hull FC. One of the two Rugby League clubs in Hull, the other is Hull Kingston Rovers, the rivalry between the two clubs and their fans, is intense and the annual derby, that kicks off the season, takes place on Sunday. Perhaps Richard will take him? The Tigers, having scraped through the replay at Leyton Orient, are playing Barnsley at the KC stadium a week tomorrow, and Louis and I will be cheering them on. He is delivered, safe and happy, to Saint Mary's Primary School and Normy and I walk back to the car and then collect the terriers from Cherry, and set off for the Westwood. We park in our usual spot and as we set off into the woods, the sun comes out and it is a lovely winter's morning again. A young woman is throwing a ball for her spaniel in Telly Tubby Land, and of course Teddy pinches it and then waits for the spaniel to chase him, which is his real objective. The other dog is a bit of a wimp and complains to his owner about the theft, she is very nice about it, even though it takes ten minutes of patience and guile to persuade Teddy to give it up. I take this opportunity to put him back on the lead and let his sister, Dolly loose. She is less feisty and much more sensible, except when it comes to rabbits, when sense goes out of the window. She is also very popular on the Westwood, as everyone has known her since a pup, and she is very friendly, always saying hello to everyone she meets. We bump into Di Fairhurst and her Westie Rocky, she is talking to Angela Semple, who has Sophie, a fifteen year old spaniel, who remains remarkably fit. I often sit next to Angela if I attend Saturday evening Mass, and as she is also walking up to the Mill, I walk with her and chat. Like me, she has been to see the film version of Les Miserables and was blown away, so much so, that she is going again next week. Her husband, Bill, died a few years ago and he has a memorial bench underneath Black Mill. Angela walks up to see him every morning. I met Bill once on business, he was in charge of a computerised printing business in Hull and I discussed providing a fibre optic link to London for him. This would be twenty years ago. We walk back to the car from the Mill and then call in at Morrison's for some German rye bread, after first taking the terriers home. While I am there, I bump into Liz, the Sherpa, Felicities Australian care worker, she is shopping for Fliss, and I tell her that I am also heading to Albert Terrace for a cup of tea with the old girl, and am taking some Chelsea buns to accompany the drink. I fill up with petrol first and arrive bearing buns, about eleven fifteen. Felicity is feeling better, although her cold hasn't quite cleared and has decided that she is keeping her dogs and staying put in her house. She looks better for having made that decision, but I fear events and her declining health may intervene to the contrary, although it would be too unkind to point this out. Liz returns, deposits the shopping and then is off to her other appointments. She is shortly followed by the Gas Man, who has come to read the meter, and somehow the conversation moves on to another writer a Mrs DesForges, who used to live in South Cave, where the Gas Man used to run a pub, and knew her. This qualifies him as a literary gent in Fliss's eyes and he is bequeathed an anthology of her poetry. Norman and I leave at noon and then drive home, where I give him some more biscuits and water and then make lentil soup for me. Snow starts to fall as I eat the soup, and I am glad to be indoors, as I feel achey and tired. Definitely a bug of some sort, probably from the catarrh. The warmth and the soup make me drowsy and I catch forty winks in the arm chair. The broadband has resurfaced when I awake and an email arrives from my sister in law, Liliane, in Rotterdam, it is cold and snowy there too, she asks about the blood test I had on Monday, which reminds me to call the surgery for the results. My PSA level has risen from 0.08 parts per million to 0.16, and whilst it is still microscopic, it needs looking into, as it has doubled in 3 months, and as I no longer have a prostate gland, it should be unmeasurable. I ring Graeme Cooksey's secretary, to make sure they have the results, he is my consultant urologist, they do and she says they will arrange an appointment. It is either eight or nine years since I had a cancerous prostate removed, and while it is highly unusual for a relapse after such a long period, it is still possible and best dealt with promptly. Later I make fish fingers, chips and peas for dinner and Norman has a tin of gourmet dog food for seniors. I have arranged to have lunch with my sister Jackie and her husband, Gino, tomorrow in Morley, near Leeds, but it depends on the snow and how I feel. To bed early around ten.