Tigers triumph again!

When the curtains are drawn back this morning, the fields are covered in a thick mist and there is a ground frost on the lawn. Norman runs outside to do his duty and then takes station next to the kitchen door by the hallway radiator, from whence he can both warm his bum and also watch me make breakfast. We are having kippers this morning, which he enjoys and I crumble up a slice of my rye toast and mix it in with his fish to fill him up. I still feel like my batteries need recharging, but after coffee and the radio four news, I shower and dress and then we leave for Cherry Burton to collect Dolly and Teddy. The broadband is defunct again, it went off last night around nine thirty and despite rebooting the router, it is still down this morning. By the time we arrive on the Westwood, the early morning mist has burned away and it is a glorious morning, blue skies, bright sun and very little wind. In the woods a magpie is gathering twigs probably with spring nesting in mind and in Telly Tubby Land, the north faces of the little hillocks are still covered in frost, while the southern sides are showing the bright green grass of new growth. We complete our walk by half past eleven and after dropping the terriers back at Pip's, Normy and I drive to Morrison's. I am visiting Leslie this afternoon and buy a box of grapes and a small string bag with mini Gouda cheeses in it for him, although I am unsure whether he will be well enough to eat them. We also buy more kippers, some smoked salmon, milk and stir fry vegetables, bean sprouts and Singapore noodles. When we arrive back in Tickton, after first unpacking the shopping, I make a pot of tea and cut a slice of Madeira cake and take this into the garden, where I sit in the warm sunshine and consume while watching Norman chew on one of the bones from last Friday's spare ribs, that I wrapped in foil and saved in the fridge for him. Later I trim some of the old growth off the plants in the flower beds, that should have been done in November, but somehow it never happened. The contrast between the sunny and shaded parts of the garden is extreme, and I am glad when the job is completed and the tools returned to the shed. Returning indoors I find Norman asleep in his basket in the Garden Room, after his lunch of dry dog food. At two o'clock, it is time to change out of my dog walking pants and boots, put Leslie's grapes and cheeses in a shopping bag and visit Leslie. As I make my way towards the door, Norman is waiting for me, with his little tail wagging furiously. Needless to say, he comes along for the ride, and I leave him asleep on the back seat of the car, after we have parked up in Linnaeus street, by Mark's flats. Margaret informed me yesterday that Leslie is back in ward 70, in Hull Royal Infirmary and when I arrive at the concourse, where the lifts are situated, there is a large queue, so I take the stairs up to the seventh floor, where I arrive a few minutes later, not much the worse for wear. There can't be too much wrong with me. Leslie is in a four bed room, on the opposite side of the corridor to where he was last week, and from this elevation there are splendid views of the river Humber and the south bank in Lincolnshire. Leslie is lying in the first bed inside the door, both his arms are covered in a light gauze bandage and an intravenous drip has been inserted, just below the elbow, into his left arm and he also has two plastic oxygen tubes, which are curled round his neck and clipped inside his nose, onto the septum. He is awake, but somewhat agitated, and tells me that he thinks he is in a pub in Beverley, waiting for Margaret, and has forgotten his wallet. He asks me to tell Margaret to bring some money, as he owes the landlady £5.40p. I fetch a chair from the hall, sit down beside his bed, holding his hand in mine and reassure him that he has just had a vivid dream. Then we recapitulate the events of the last three weeks and he remembers that he is in hospital, but tells me that he has just asked an auxiliary nurse to bring a phone and that he has left a voicemail for Margaret, regarding the £5.40p. I tell him not to worry and that I will sort things out with Margaret for him, and then we chat about the things he likes, mostly his thirty years in the USA, and all the different cars he used to own and he brightens up. In between frequent drinks, he manages to eat three or four grapes and tries, but fails, to eat a mini Gouda, which he says is too heavy for him. Outside the sun is starting to set towards the Humber Bridge, so we raise his head, using the electric motor on the bed, but have to give up before he is high enough to see out of the window, as he says his back hurts and so lower him back to his previous position. We talk about the possibility of him going home next week, once the infection has cleared and then visiting time is over and it is time to leave. I promise to visit again on Thursday and, as I turn towards the door, he calls me back and asks me to make sure to tell Margaret about the £5.40p for the landlady. I say that I will make sure to do this and then make my way down the stairwell again and walk back to the car, let Norman out for a pee and then drive back to Tickton via the rural, bendy road through the village of Wawne, in order to avoid the evening traffic. When we return indoors, Normy tells me it is time for dinner but I make him walk into the garden first, before feeding him with a tin of dog food. Afterwards I meditate for a while and then refreshed, make a seafood stir fry with some prawns, that I put into a chile, garlic and ginger marinade this morning. It is only just OK, as it is ages since I made a stir fry and I have forgotten to use the toasted sesame oil, that I have in the cupboard, and olive oil just doesn't seem to taste right. More than half of the bean sprouts, vegetables and noodles are left, so it looks like another stir fry tomorrow evening. After dinner, I ring Margaret and report on Leslie, she had received the confused phone call and had been worried by it. She and her husband are both in their late sixties and not in the best of health, but were intending to visit Leslie because of the phone call, I try to reassure her that there was no urgent need, as it is a three hour round trip, including visiting time and will be particularly difficult tonight, as Hull City are at home to Blackburn Rovers and the hospital is very close to the football ground. Later, I ring Felicity and arrange to see her and our other friends, at the Poppy Seed for coffee in the morning and then settle down to listen to the football on Radio Humberside. Blackburn knocked Arsenal out of the FA cup on Saturday and they are one of the in form sides in our division, the Championship, only having been relegated from the top division last year. The commentary by David Burns, (Burnsy), and Peter Swan, an ex Tigers forward, (Swanny), is famous amongst Hull fans because of their spontaneous, irreverent humour, and worth listening to, even if you don't support Hull or even like football. The BBC have given Burnsy a morning show, from nine to twelve, on the back of this popularity, where, in between playing tracks and showcasing local bands, he hosts a phone in on local issues. Local Radio at its best, three cheers for the BBC! The first half proceeds with the Tigers dominating but although going close a couple of times, failing to score and ends goalless. In the second half Gedo scores and then ten minutes later his Egyptian compatriot, El Mohamedy, makes it two and Hull City end up easy winners 2:0. They have now won the last three games, with the two Egyptians scoring all the goals. Cardiff, who top the league, have lost tonight and we are now only five points behind them, in second place, and with a dozen games still left to play, winning the league is a distinct possibility. The broadband has at last, come back from the dead, but I am tired and need to be up early in the morning, so turn in at ten thirty.