First lunch al fresco 2013.

Norman and I lie in until a quarter to eight and then have a leisurely breakfast of kippers, toast and black Italian coffee. BBC journalists are on strike, so consequently the today programme is replaced by recorded material, the one over breakfast is about a Nobel prize winning Italian geneticist, whose mother was sent to a concentration camp when he was just four years old and consequently he lived rough on the streets from the age of five until eight. His mother miraculously survives the war, finds the boy and emigrates to America, where he manages to learn English, catch up on five years lost education and still get into Harvard. If it was fiction it wouldn't be credible. Despite an early night, I still feel tired and I have a small mouth ulcer at the root of my tongue, a sure sign for me that I have overdone things. Perhaps not physically, but the nervous energy expended looking after a wonderfully curious and energetic five year old, is enormous. I determine to take things slowly today, although I have Louis from after school until six and have undertaken to visit Leslie tonight in Hull. After showering and dressing, we drive to Cherry for ten, collect Dolly and Teddy and arrive on Newbald Road by half past. The two terriers are a bit hyped up, as they haven't had a run off the lead since last Wednesday and consequently Teddy rockets off into the woods after rabbits, as soon as he is released and then dawdles for ten minutes when it is Dolly's turn to be let off the lead. On our way to Black Mill, we fall in with Pat, who is walking two Labradors that belong to her daughter and her new four month old black Labrador bitch, Ivy. She is with a very friendly Bulgarian woman, whose husband works at the university and she has a large golden retriever, so together we constitute quite a pack. Ivy takes a shine to Dolly and Teddy and just wants to play, Teddy tries to bully her, but she just thinks it is part of the fun. We walk round the common together chatting about our dogs, until we peel off as we draw level with my car and say goodbye. On our way back to Two Riggs, we call at the farm shop, where I buy another dozen of the giant pullet eggs, before dropping off the terriers and driving back to Tickton, arriving shortly before noon. It is a little colder than yesterday, but still dry and with no wind, so I decide that I will mow the lawns after lunch, but first put the oven on and make another batch of oaties. I can do this in my sleep by now, and fifteen minutes later they are baking and I am enjoying a pot of strong tea and a slice of Madeira cake, while listening to another recording on radio four, this time about Government health advice and whether it is any good. I intend eating the balance of the vegetable chile that I made for Louis and Alice tonight for dinner and wonder if the packet of tortillas, which we opened on Friday and have since dried out, could be turned into nachos, without frying them. As the oven is on, I try brushing them with olive oil, sprinkling with salt and pepper and then cutting into triangular shapes with scissors, before laying them on a non-stick baking tray. When the oaties are finished and set to cool, I put the "nachos" on the top shelf of the oven and set the timer for fifteen minutes. They emerge a quarter of an hour later, not quite cooked, so are put back in for a further five minutes and when they finally come out, they are a lovely golden brown, crisp and the salt and pepper has given them a tangy, spicy flavour. Necessity is the mother of invention. It is now one o'clock and the sun has broken through the clouds to suffuse the garden in pale yellow light, the bench, the garden table and chairs, are all stacked on the path under my bedroom window, stray bits of Norman's "treasure" removed from the lawn and the the mower taken out of its hibernation from the shed. We have had no rain for five days, so the grass has dried out and cuts easily, so once the rear lawn is done, I move to the front and cut that as well, before clearing away. It is now two o'clock, so I make a cheese sandwich, some more tea and then sit in my garden and have my first meal outside this year, whilstmreading an article about the possibility of an African or South American Pope from yesterday's Observer. I notice a missed call on my phone and a voice mail, when I check it is Leslie's daughter asking me to ring her, which I do immediately. Leslie has developed a chest infection and is very ill, he is being moved back to ward 70 and may be placed in the high dependency unit, I ask if it is still OK to visit but am told not to. I tell Margaret to wish her father well, if he is awake when they return to the hospital, but fear this might be the end of my old friend, who was already so frail and weak. I say a prayer for Leslie and then make Louis his ante pasta and pack it in a Tupperware box, along with a little bottle of grandad pop, then load this and Norman into the car and drive to Sam's, where we park up, before walking to Saint Mary's to collect my grandson. He comes out of school in his shirt sleeves again and has to be taken back to the classroom to be properly dressed again, before we make our way back to Sam's. Laura doesn't need collecting this afternoon, as she has been off school today and is waiting for us when we get back. She had been suffering from a migraine and a cough, but is much better now. Sam makes me a pot of tea and Louis sits in the playroom and eats his ante pasta and pop, before playing computer games with Laura. Rebecca arrives back from her special school, in Goole, at half past four and we chat to her for ten minutes and then it is time to put Louis and Normy in the car and drive to the Leisure Centre for Louis' swimming lessons. There isn't a parking space to be had when we arrive, but someone pulls out of a space, on the road next to the railway line, which is being used as an overflow car park and I just manage to squeeze the Chrysler in. Louis is quickly changed in a cubicle and arrives just on time for his lesson and make my way to the cafe where I purchase yet another pot of tea and then return to watch him swim through the large plate glass window by reception for the remaining half hour of his lesson, giving him a thumbs up when he completes his drills correctly. After his lesson, he is changed and returned to Sarah's house for six O'clock and then it is time for me to drive home, feed Norman and meditate for an hour. Around seven thirty, I reheat the chile in the microwave and then eat it with my nachos, accompanied by some grated Mozarella, sour cream, guacamole and salsa. Margaret phones again at half past eight, she has just got back from the hospital, Leslie is on oxygen and intravenous antibiotics, but is conscious and alert. So far he has not needed the high dependency unit, I ask if she would like me to go tomorrow, and it is agreed that I will go in the afternoon. To bed for ten.