Designer Jackets for Clement and Ante Pasta for Louis.

I slept well again last night and woke refreshed to a wet morning, Norman braves the rain as he trots into the garden while I make breakfast. I have only whole meal pitta bread left, I should have shopped for bread yesterday, but somehow couldn't be bothered. I decide to grill the pitta bread and stuff them with some goats cheese and some marinated peppers and then place them in the sandwich grill, that Sarah bought me for Xmas. I pour Normy some Bakers dog food, while my Italian coffee percolates and fills the kitchen with its aroma, within ten minutes my pitta/panini are ready, but I have to wait for a few minutes before eating them as the cheese is molten and very hot. They taste OK, but because they lack the absorbent quality of real Panini, are a little greasy on the surface. After breakfast we listen to the news, it seems that the conservatives have decided to cooperate with labour and the lib dems on the Leveson report after all. Harriet Harman appears on radio four to say a deal has been done, the new press regulator will be established by Royal Charter, but with statutory underpinning. This way everyone can say they have won, but the reality is that Cameron blinked first, faced with the choice of alienating the press or losing a motion in the Commons to a Lib/Lab coalition, he chose the least worst option. He is damaged goods and no one is fooled by the charade and the poor sod still has an inevitably bleak budget to come on Wednesday, it is still two years until the election, can he survive that long? Can the coalition? We leave the house, around a quarter past nine and drive to Cherry Burton, where I intend just to walk the dogs round the village because of the rain, but the rain has eased by the time we arrive and as the terriers will not have been let off the lead over the weekend, I decide to take them to the Westwood and give them a run. The common is sodden when we get there, small and large ponds have formed on the lower ground and the path we usually take into the woods is a quagmire, so we climb higher up the hill and find a different way in. This path is still muddy, but less temp and lethally slippery as the ones lower down. The outside temperature gauge on the Chrysler was reading 2 degrees as we drove in, but it feels colder because of the damp and a steady wind from the Northeast. Nevertheless the birds are singing their hearts out in the woods, spring and nesting can't be cancelled just for a bit of rain. Dolly dashes about the woods, relishing her freedom and Teddy can hardly wait for his turn to be let off the lead. Meanwhile, Norman jogs along ten paces behind us, keeping out of trouble, but enjoying the walk and the company of his two friends. On the open ground, I switch the dogs off the lead and Teddy hares off and sprints for a quarter of a mile before looping round and hurtling back to us before charging off again at right angles. Dogs were born to enjoy freedom, and Norman and the terriers live for this hour in the fresh air, on the Westwood, each day. We head diagonally downhill from Black Mill towards the car, with all three dogs walking nicely on their leads, now that their excess energy has been expended. After dropping them back at Two Riggs, Norman and I return to Tickton, where I dry him and leave him some fresh water and some biscuits, before gathering my swimming gear and some Ian Rankin books for William and driving to Leslie's house. William and Margaret are already there and have made a start, sorting things out. I give William the books and pack the espresso maker that I had given to Leslie in a bag. Margaret shows me around the bungalow, which I had seen before, but not recently as most of my meetings with Leslie were held in the kitchen over coffee. Margaret has three jackets that she wants me to try, I know Leslie was a forty two chest and I am forty four, but try them anyway, the first two a navy Crombie blazer in black is too tight, as is the second a navy Armani blazer, but the third, a light wool sports jacket in oatmeal, fits perfectly, so Margaret insists I keep it. Although I have at least half a dozen similar coats in my wardrobe that only ever get worn for church on Sundays. Then I remember that Clement is coming back from UCL on Thursday for Huby Nana's funeral on Friday, and that he is a forty two chest, designer jackets worn over jeans are quite in, so I ask Margaret if I can take these for him. The valuer is coming out to value the house contents later in the week and I tell Margaret that I would like to buy some light wood bookshelves and a desk from the office and she says she will save them for me. I leave around half past twelve and drive to the leisure centre for a quarter to one, the pool is quite busy but someone leaves the end lane as I arrive and I am able to find enough space to practise my individual medley drills. I complete five sets of 400m, with each set interspersed with a minutes rest for water. By the last set I am starting to feel a little tired and the last three IM's are taking an extra stroke for each length. Still I am quite pleased at the progress, the five 400m sets, will need to become five 500m sets by the time of the Swimathon, but that is almost six weeks away, so health permitting, should not be a problem. After the swim, I have time for a pot of tea and some oaties in the cafe, before driving to Tesco to buy some more bread and milk and Louis' ante pasta. I collect Louis from school at a quarter past three, he emerges marginally more clothed than in previous weeks, his teacher, Mrs Wildbore, laughingly tells me he has made a special effort after PE, so that grandad doesn't have to dress him. After a minor adjustment to his winter jacket, we walk to the car, which I have parked in New Walk, and drive back to Tickton. The football obsession shows no sign of slacking, so when we return indoors, I find the BBC football web page for him on my iPad, and he reads all the weekend results to me, while I assemble his tea. He is having, Parma ham, Chorizo, smoked cheese, olives, tomato and cucumber and a buttered bread roll, as well as a glass of grandad pop, low sugar cream soda. There is nothing that beats motivation when it comes to learning, and Louis can read the names of every one of the ninety two clubs in the league, as well as work out their goal differences and points differentials. Not bad for a five year old. We sit and chat while he eats, I have also opened a tin for Norman. Louis has reconciled himself to missing the Watford game, while he is on holiday in Scotland, but tells me he will be back for the game against Middlesborough the following Saturday. We leave Tickton at twenty to five and drive to the leisure centre, where I change him into his shorts and deliver him at five o'clock to Debbie, his swimming instructor. After buying a drinking chocolate from the cafe, I settle down to watch Louis' lesson through the window, next to reception, behind me Tom is "beasting" a spinning class. At half past five, I collect Louis, dry him and dress him in the changing room and then drive him home for six o'clock. Alice lets us in and tells me my video will be ready by Friday, she is being driven to Nottingham on Wednesday to see a pop group, "One Direction", by Sarah and Richard, her friend is also going with her. I am baby sitting Louis and having him again on Friday, while everyone else attends the funeral. Next week he is on holiday and Sarah has to work, so she has booked football training with the outreach team from the Tigers for him. It runs from ten until three at the Grammar School and I am on taxi duty and baby sitting afterwards. We are very close, but I also need to spend some time with Andrew's girls, who I haven't seen for a couple of weeks now. When I get in, I fry the remaining asparagus in a little butter and olive oil and boil pasta in a pan, which, after draining, I toss in the wok and then plate and season with Gran Padano and black pepper. After dinner I start my new book, "American Pastoral", by Philip Roth. Turning in around ten. Tomorrow, I will visit Felicity in Hull Royal, if she is still in hospital.