A frantic Thursday

I wake at five, feeling cold, switch the central heating on and then go back to sleep until I am woken by the phone ringing at half past seven. It is Pip, she and Andrew are getting ready to drive to the hospital in York, to be with her mother, who is still clinging on to life and she wants me to come and collect Teddy straight away, as he can't be left alone with Dolly in the height of her season. I say I will be there within the half hour, quickly dress and let Normy into the garden, while I pour him some Bakers for breakfast and top up his water. I leave the house, unwashed and wearing yesterday's clothes, by a quarter to eight and arrive at Cherry Burton fifteen minutes later. Pip is in the bathroom and Andrew tells me that his grandmother isn't expected to last the day, Teddy is glad to see me, as he associates me with walkies, but poor Dolly starts to howl in a most piteous manner, when we leave without her. Pip's Micra is due in for its MOT and service this morning, so I load Teddy into the back and then move the car out of it's parking spot and drive the Chrysler in. We arrive back in Tickton for half past eight and driving in the morning rush hour, for the first time in years, is quite an eye opener, I had quite forgotten how hurried and aggressive the traffic can be, and that is out here in the sticks. God knows how bad it is in the city centres. Teddy dashes about the house and then decides to pee on the Garden room curtains, in order to claim ownership, we have a very firm chat about that and he is then put outside into the Garden, which is the proper place for patch marking, as he well knows. I reboot my day by making some strong, black, Italian coffee and frying up a couple of kipper filets, which I eat with the last few slices of my rye toast, and soon I feel more like an approximation of a human being again. Right car phones just after nine to tell me that a new front shock absorber for the Chrysler is going to set me back £285 pounds, so I tell them to hang fire on ordering the part, while I get some alternative quotes. While I am talking to them, I ask if someone can run me back to Tickton if I bring the Micra in early. One of the service guys, a chap called Mike, says he will do this and I tell him I will be there for ten. In between shaving and dressing, I call two other garages, and Jordan's, who have the Chrysler franchise in Hull, quote me just under £200, so I give them my business. It is only two miles from Tickton to Right Car, down a single track road that runs alongside the river Hull. After I have booked the Micra in, Mike promptly drives me back to Tickton and en route enquires about the Chrysler, I tell a lie and say I haven't got all the quotes yet, as I want to keep Right Car honest on the work on the Micra. (That's another one for confession on Saturday)! After he has left, I hang out a line of shirts and socks and then take Teddy and Norman for a walk around the fields. It is still cold, with a persistent easterly wind, but the clouds are thin and a pale, lemon sun occasionally breaks through. The paths are fairly dry, so we risk a trip through "Almost straight wood", but I have to carry Norman for the first twenty feet or so, because of the mud. Teddy is really enjoying his holiday, dashing about the wood chasing rabbits, with an occasional foray into the fields. On the southwesterly corner, the farmer has put out a bale of hay for the deer, presumably to dissuade them from stripping bark from the saplings in the plantation, as they search for winter forage. We return home for midday and I feed the dogs with some Bakers, before making a pot of tea and an oatie for myself. Afterwards I start to Spring clean the front room, which I hardly ever use, much preferring the Garden Room. Over the winter, Xmas cards, books, old mail and other detritus has accumulated on the shelves and a nice television table in light oak, that Alan Ralph gave me along with a couple of coffee tables, still waits to be properly sited. While I am performing triage on the shelves, deciding what I am keeping, what can be donated to charity and what is going in the bin, I have a think about giving the room a bit of a makeover. In the end it is logical, the coax for a television set lies in the corner by the window, and the TV table can go there, in case I ever feel the need for a telly in the future. At the moment my desk, with my laptop, my iPhone speaker, wifi hub and cordless phone charger, occupies the space. It is an unholy jumble of cables, so I decide to move the desk to the opposite corner, and site my laptop and printer with it, as they connect wirelessly via the hub anyway. In the midst of unplugging cables, dusting and polishing surfaces, the phone rings, it is the hospital notifying me of a bone scan next Tuesday, I have to be there for eleven thirty to swallow some radioactive dye and then have the scan a few hours later, once the dye has got into my bones, but I don't need to stay in the hospital in between these events. Graham Cooksie certainly didn't hang about! If they find anything, treatment may start before April, although I still have to wait for an MRI scan. To celebrate, I play Herbert Von Karajan conducting the Berlin Philharmonic on my iPhone speaker, which is now sitting on the resited TV table, along with the wifi hub and cordless phone. The work of moving things around is finished by three thirty, although I will need a white extension lead for the printer and laptop etc, if I am to avoid another unsightly display of cables. I am quite pleased with the result and a flat screen TV, in white, in the corner, would look rather nice, although I am not Inclined to spend several hundred pounds on what would, in effect, be little more than an ornament. At three thirty, I make lunch, a tossed salad with the last of the Parmagiana, which always tastes better cold. At four o'clock Tchaikovsky is interrupted, in the middle of Swan Lake, as Clement phones on my iphone and tells me that they are on their way back to Beverley and can collect Louis. I ask about his grandma and he says she is still hanging on, but very, very, ill. While I am waiting for a call from Right Car, I check the bank account I use for Pips bills at Two Riggs and find two monthly payments for car insurance, one to a company called Auto Direct, that I don't recognise, but before I can check my files, Mike from Right Car calls to say the Micra has passed its MOT and that, with a small service, the bill is only £90. He arrives ten minutes later and I run him back to the garage, where I settle my bill and when he asks about the Chrysler, I tell him Jordan's were over eighty pounds cheaper, so I have booked it in there. Whether my subterfuge was effective or not, I will never know. As I am out of bread, I drive to Morrisons, but they have no Greenhalghe's German Style Roggenbrot, so I have to buy a Polish light rye Bloomer instead and while I am in the store, I purchase some more salad, apples, raisins and Bon Maman, apricot conserve, that I quite like and which was on offer at half price. Unfortunately they have no extension leads, but the Pound Stretcher store next door has them for £4:99p. As I am driving home, it is reported in the news that Vicky Price has been found guilty of perverting the course of justice by taking speeding points for her then husband, the high flying Liberal Democrat, Chris Huhne. Both are likely to go to jail. Price took revenge on Huhne after he left her for a younger woman, a research assistant. This has all the makings of a Hollywood movie, sex, power, and revenge, a modern day Greek Tragedy, as Huhme's ex wife, Vicky, is in fact, Greek. Back home the boys are waiting for dinner and after clearing away the shopping, I open some dog tins for them. Pip usually provides me with some for Teddy or Dolly if they stay, but in the circumstances, she didn't have time, so Teddy has to have two of Normy's gourmet dog food for seniors. While they are eating, I check my files, but find nothing for Auto Direct, so I google them and the penny drops, they are also known as Aegis in the UK, and the Micra was insured with them last year. My broker, Swinton, hasn't notified them of a change of insurer and they have carried on collecting the direct debit. Tomorrow I will call at Swinton and sort it out and also stop the DD at the bank. There should be over a hundred pounds to be refunded, which will help to pay for the road tax, which is also due on both cars this month. Around seven thirty, I take the dogs for a walk round the village and then make a pot of tea and some Marmite on buttered, Polish, rye toast. Norman is snoring in Teddy's basket, which he prefers to his own and Teddy is curled up on a cushion in one of the cane chairs, his prominent lower canines, making him look like a mini Chewbacca from Star Wars. It is now a quarter past ten and I am tired after a busy day. I don't know if my recent surge of energy is a sign of returning health or simply psychological displacement activity in the face of so much grim news. Tomorrow morning Clement and I are walking Louis to school with the dogs and then afterwards taking them on the Westwood together. I have set the alarm for half past six.