Blood and Football

Norman wakes me around ten past six, needing to go outside, it is a brighter day and the cold east wind isn't blowing quite as strongly. Nevertheless, the old boy doesn't dawdle outside and soon runs in and settles by the warm radiator, whilst I fry the kippers for our breakfast. Normy eats his over crumbled rye toast. After breakfast and a shower, I dress, with a layer of thermals underneath and then walk Norman down as far as the little bridge, before driving to Molescroft for my blood test. Sally, the nurse, who I have known for over twenty years, takes my blood pressure while I am there and it is perfect 134/78, and then draws blood from the vein inside my elbow. The result should be back for Thursday, after that the surgery is closed until the following Tuesday for Easter. I collect Louis from Sarah's house and drive him to the KC stadium for his football coaching. The people at the office at the stadium redirect me to the sports arena, where the training has been moved indoors because of the cold. Louis is taken by a young woman to his class and immediately joins in, I am told to collect him at three. Before driving back to Beverley, I call at the KC stadium ticket office, to see if there are any better seats than the ones we have got. Ideally I would like some on the lower, rather than the upper West Stand, in case my health deteriorates during treatment for the prostate cancer and climbing to the highest point in the stadium becomes more of an issue. Unfortunately we already have very good seats, on the half way line and there is nothing as good anywhere else, so I keep the ones we have for next season. I drive straight to the Leisure Centre for my swim, arriving at eleven O'clock, all the car parks are full and the road behind the pool is also full, so I am reduced to parking on double yellow lines, next to the football pitch, where we sometimes have to park when Louis has swimming classes. The pool is fairly busy, but the fast lane is a double with only two other swimmers in it, so I insert myself between them and manage to swim two sets of 500m in 100m individual medleys, before three more swimmers join the double lane. We have been swimming a rotation, up one lane and down the other, using the centre to overtake when necessary, but the extra swimmers mean I won't be able to swim fly or backstroke safely. Fortunately a couple using the next lane decide to leave, so I duck under the rope and manage a further two 500m sets in there, before warming down on 100m each, of easy freestyle and backstroke. Moving up from 400m sets to the 500m that I will need to do for the Swimathon, doesn't sound much, but it takes extra effort as a minutes rest and water break has been removed from the session. As it is school holidays, the pool will be busier than during term time, but I hope to be able to fit in three more sessions this week. I don't go to the cafe because of my parking situation and just return to the car and drive home. Norman is waiting for me and follows me into the garden, while I peg out a wash load of shirts in the cold, cold wind. The only thing it is any good for is drying washing, but there are flakes of snow in the wind as I peg out shirts. Normy has some Bakers and I make Panini and salad again for my lunch. At a quarter past two, I drive back to the sports arena to collect Louis, who is practising penalty shoot outs as I arrive. We kick about for ten minutes with two other kids and then drive back to Beverley, calling at Tesco for some washing up liquid, salad and some more kippers en route. Louis is starving, so I buy him some cheese and grapes in the a , feteria, which he says he wants, but then have to top these up with a chocolate muffin, even though he had a pile of sandwiches and fruit in his lunch box, which he says he has eaten. By the time we get back to Beverley it is almost five o'clock, Sarah is back from work, so I stop and chat for a minute or two, before driving back to Tickton, where I recover my shirts, before opening a tin of dog food for Norman. I put the oven on and set the timer for an hour and then place my Parmagiana on the middle shelf. While that is cooking I mix up a batch of oaties and slide these below the Parmagiana, both should be ready by a quarter past six. David Cameron is on the radio, talking about being nasty to immigrants, it is part of his response to the UKIP threat to the right wing of the Tory Party. His problem is, the tougher he tries to talk, the weaker his position is revealed to be. He is beginning to sound like a PR/Marketing bullshitter, and God knows I have met more than my fair share of those. Boris Johnson, the other great white hope of the Tory party, has been taken apart in an interview by Eddie Mair, on the Andrew Marr Sunday programme. They played a section on the radio tonight, it was devastating, with Johnson revealed to be a serial liar and cheat, which despite his usual blustering bonhomie, he couldn't manage to repudiate. My Parmagiana is very good and I follow it with some Black Forest Fruits and Yogurt for dessert afterwards. Hanne sends a text to say that she visited Felicity, who has been moved to Castle Hill, and reports that she was delirious and not making much sense. I have arranged to visit her tomorrow lunchtime, around 1:30 and stay for an hour, before collecting Louis from the arena again. John phones to say they want to fit the new parquet flooring in the hall on April 12th, I tell him that is fine. Later I read Philip Roth until bedtime, with Norman snuggled on my lap. To bed for ten.