Palm Sunday

The trend of waking earlier continues, and I get up shortly after six, leaving Norman asleep in his basket, until he smells coffee and toast and saunters into the kitchen for breakfast. I have visitors today, so kippers are on hold until tomorrow and I am having smoked salmon and cream cheese on rye toast again. Normy has Bakers, but I slip him some salmon trimmings, so that he doesn't feel left out. After breakfast, I put on a load of white towels and then shower, dress and give Norman a quick walk as far as the end of the cul de sac, until I come back from church. The North east wind is still blowing at almost gale force and the wind chill is punishing, but the dog does his stuff and then runs back to the house. I am attending early mass at nine o'clock this morning as I want to clear up before John Chapman comes to measure the hall for some parquet flooring. The carpet long being past its best. It is Palm Sunday today and today's mass recalls the Lord's Passion, we are all given Palm fronds to wave as the procession approaches the altar. I always find this ceremony ineffable moving and sad, as a father it is almost unbearable to think of looking on as your gentle son is tortured to death. I sing the hymns but leave speechless. Back home the towels have finished washing and I hang them on the line, the east wind might be vicious, but at least it can dry my washing, although each item has to be double pegged to stop it blowing away. Norman is waiting by the door, wagging his tail, so after wrapping him in his warm coat and putting on two woolly hats we venture out. He changes his mind when the reality of the cold wind hits him, but I insist we continue and we make our way through the snicket onto Carr Lane and head down to the little bridge over the drain. A young woman catches up with us leading a golden retreiver and a Bassett Hound puppy, who we have met before, his name is Bowie as he has two different coloured eyes, like the pop star. Bowie wants to play, but Norman is having none of it, and so he runs after his owner, his long ears bouncing out to the side as he runs. The farmer has grubbed out part of the hedge and the wind screams through gap, almost knocking me off my feet. When we get to the bridge we decide to explore "almost straight wood", as it is sheltered in there and Normy can have a good sniff and root about. He spends a happy half hour doing just that, before we turn tail and head for home. When we return indoors, I give him some biscuits and make a pot of tea for myself. Today is a fast day, I have settled on Sundays and Thursdays now and will keep this up until after the Swimathon, as I have to confess, I am feeling the benefits, although the unseasonable cold weather isn't doing my joints any favours. John arrives around one o'clock and soon measures up, there is still tea in the pot, so I pour him a cup and we chat for a while before he leaves. Later in the afternoon I drive to Molescroft Court to visit Felicity, taking Norman with me as she likes to see him. We seem to wait an age until the door is eventually answered and when I ask for her room, the attendant tells me she was re admitted to hospital yesterday. I expect Melissa had enough on her plate and forgot to tell me, so we turn tail and drive home, and once indoors, I keep busy continuing my ongoing spring cleaning. Not that the activity is any representation of the weather. Tomorrow I have a doctors appointment at nine twenty for a blood test and then taxi duty, taking Louis for his football training during the holidays, to the KC Stadium. I will renew our season tickets whilst I am there. I spend the evening cracking a fiendishly difficult killer sudoku, as I don't feel up to the bleakness of Roth's "American Pastoral", tonight. To bed at ten after a bowl of hot porridge with sweetener.