Swimming and a haircut on a cold winter's day

I feel better after a night's sleep and Norman's wagging tail in anticipation of breakfast always cheers me up, so I let him into the garden in the grey light before dawn, before putting on the coffee machine and preparing breakfast. We use up the last of the black pudding, sausage and bacon for breakfast, it is not worth buying more before Lent starts on Wednesday, but we have also eaten the last of the extra large pullet eggs from Walkington Manor farm shop, so I shall restock after walking the dogs this morning. After breakfast, I call Leslie's daughter and relay my conversation with her father, she agrees that convalescence in the Grange is probably the best option for him, provided the doctors think he is fit to be discharged and agrees to call the hospital before lunch to ascertain the state of play. I agree to visit Leslie on Tuesday and Thursday, if he is still in Hull Royal, to give her and her husband some respite. She realises that her father is getting towards the end. Norman and I collect the terriers from Cherry Burton and arrive down Newbald Road shortly after ten thirty. It is a bitterly cold morning, with a harrowing wind from the east, curiously the clouds are progressing from the northwest, so the air close to the ground and higher up are travelling in opposite directions. Dolly and Teddy are glad to see me and Normy again and we set off happily into the woods, where I let the boys off their leads. A large group of snowdrops beneath some elders and brambles are just starting to flower, they are quite late, perhaps because of their shaded location. We only walk a little further than Black Mill this morning, just taking in the woods of Newbald Pits, as I intend to swim today and will need to be at the pool no later than twelve thirty, as the pool closes at half past one, so that the staff can install the inflatables for the kids to play on during half term. On our way back to Cherry, I buy another dozen giant eggs, before dropping the dogs off and returning to Tickton for ten past twelve. I have just time to feed Norman and change out of my walking gear, before driving to the Leisure Centre, where I change and arrive in the pool around a twenty to one. There are quite a few people in the pool, but a friend of mine, Terry, has a lane next to the dividing rope and is just finishing off, so I inherit his prized spot. I have only swum once in the last couple of weeks, so decide to take things easily and limit myself to 4 x 400m today, starting with backstroke, then breastroke, followed by freestyle and finishing off with 4 X 100m individual medleys. The swim feels good, my muscles are fully rested, not having been used for a while, but the effect will be noticeable tomorrow. Ideally I would like to swim every day this week in order to rebuild the fitness platform for the Swimathon medley training, which I intend to restart next week. After showering and changing, I treat myself to tea and a scone with butter, in the cafe, I ate the last of my sultana oaties yesterday. The cafe staff are glad to see me again and the Leisure Centre has also implemented free WiFi access while I have been away, so I take advantage of this and check my email, mostly spam and a reminder of Facebook activity by Jackie and co. After my snack, I return Leslie's large print Library books, which are due back tomorrow, pick a couple of new books for myself and then make my way to the barbers for my monthly trim. Paul, who cuts my hair, tells me he has been there twenty years, ever since leaving school. He now runs the place, the owner, Tim, has virtually retired and only comes in on Monday mornings to see to a few old regulars and occasionally providing emergency cover if someone is ill. The cold easterly wind seems even colder when I emerge, but I am not out for long and pop in to see Felicity in Albert Terrace, which is quite close by. Tracy, one of her team of dog walkers, is just leaving as I arrive, so I say hello, before sitting down to tea and biscuits with the old girl. She asks after Leslie, but seems distressed when I tell her, perhaps his situation is a little close to home for her, so we move on to talk about more pleasant things and agree that she might go to hear Barbara's talk about the history of the commons of Beverley tomorrow evening at Saint Mary's if it isn't too cold. I leave around half past four and drive home to find Norman impatient for dinner. After feeding him, I make a fresh batch of oaties and then bake the Parmagiana while the oven is hot, serving it with freshly grated Parmesan and a glass of red wine. I eat dinner whilst listening to the six o' clock news on radio four. Pope Benedict has resigned due to ill health and we shall have a new Pope before Easter. He in particular and the rest of the Vatican Council, must have been aware of the impending crisis of child abuse when he was first elected, so he may have only ever been intended as an interim appointment. Nevertheless he has conducted himself with dignity in the post, whatever one thinks of his conservative position. The problem the church faces, is that its position on women and gays appears to liberals and most of the younger generation as plain mysoginy and homophobia. It will take an exceptional Pope to carry out reforms, without suffering the fate of the Church of England, which is hopelessly divided on the same issues. Around eight o'clock Margaret phones to update me about Leslie, there isn't much good news, he has become incontinent and is being referred for treatment after being moved to Castle Hill hospital later in the week. East Riding Council also provide intensive nursing support for up to six weeks after discharge, so it seems that Leslie may be able to go home without needing to stay at the Grange. I have promised Margaret not to mention the incontinence unless Leslie tells me of his own accord when I visit tomorrow. I hope I am wrong, but the incontinence seems part of a pattern of his old body starting to give up, although I mustn't let him see this when I visit tomorrow.