Wicked Great Uncle, David!

We are up for seven and eat breakfast in the garden, the sun is shining and it is a lovely morning, but to the West clouds are gathering on the horizon again, so we could have showers later. TheTai Chi beginners class starts at nine twenty, and as the weather is fine, I decide to go on my bike, leaving the house at ten to nine and arriving at the Memorial Hall, where the classes are held, at a quarter past. I pay my £3 joining fee and then make my way to the class, there are about twenty, mostly retired women, but there is also one other man, whom I recognise, his name is Crispin and he is also a swimmer. Crispin is very tall, at least 6' 6"", he says hello and asks me why I have come. I explain about the arthritis and the recent research recommending Tai Chi. Janet, the instructor calls me over, vaguely remembers me from last week and gives me hurried instructions, "don't try to do too much", she says, and then we are into the warm up. She zips through it at a very brisk pace, about ten times as fast as my previous Tai Chi classes, but slows down when we start the exercises properly. It emerges that she is also somewhat of a comedienne and has a kind of dual personality, one half, calm, graceful martial artist, the other more Dawn French, doing her Vicar of Dibley thing. After the class, I cycle back to Tickton, down past Beverley Beck and alongside the River Hull, using the single track road, there are hundreds of horses and ponies on Swinemoor now and several are stood on top of the opposite bank, watching me as I pedal by. Norman is waiting patiently for his morning walk when I return and we make our way down Carr Lane, as far as the little bridge, people are taking advantage of the fine weather and working in their gardens as we approach the snickett. The sun is not too hot, being mostly screened by a thin veil of high cloud, but this suits Normy, as it can get hot close to the ground. We get back by noon and I give the old boy some fresh water and a few biscuits, before grabbing my swimming things and climbing back on my bike in order to ride to the leisure centre. It is a quarter to one when I emerge into the pool, which is fortunately quiet, and I share a double lane with Terry, who is a regular. After a 400m mixed medley warm up, I am feeling strong and well, so repeat last week's  6 x 200 Individual Medley session, trying to stay relaxed and fluent, and gratifyingly the times are ten seconds faster than Friday, so warm down with a very relaxed 400m mixed medley and then enjoy a tea and scone in the cafe. As I leave, Sam waves, she is sat in some sort of conference meeting with a group of women, about her age, she tells me that Andrew is taking the girls swimming on Wednesday and so they won't be able to come for tea. I tell her to text me to arrange another convenient day, as I can see she is busy, and then make my way back to my bike and cycle back up the riverside again to Tickton. It is three o'clock when I arrive home and I am due at Irene and David's house at half past four, so after hanging out my towel and costume in the garden, I quickly pack some overnight things and then load Norman and his basket in the car. We skirt round Beverley to the York Road, driving through the village of Etton and emerging on the top of the Wolds, the Vale of York spread before us, as we descend the hill towards Market Weighton. The drive takes exactly an hour, Irene is having an afternoon sleep and David also working in his garden, when we arrive in Copmanthorpe, Normy greets him enthusiastically, as he remembers that David always seems to have meat somewhere. He isn't disappointed, a piece of boiled ham is found from the fridge. While David showers and wakes Irene, to get ready, I give Normy his dog tin and then take him for his toilet walk, as far as the village centre, about half a mile away. He does his duty and when we get back Irene is up and dressed and presents me with a coffee and some shortbread fingers, which I accept gratefully, as it could be eight o'clock before we eat dinner. We leave at half past five, Norman remains in Irene's kitchen, in his basket, a fresh bowl of water at his side. The drive to Birkenshaw, where my sister, Jackie, lives, only takes half an hour and is mostly on Motorways, the M1 and M62. Although it is rush hour, the traffic isn't too bad and the notorious roundabout, where the M62 and the M1 meet, has mercifully now been replaced with a flyover, so we encounter no hold ups. Gino and Jackie have never met Irene and David, as they are part of the Oldroyd side of my family, Irene is my mother's sister's daughter and Jackie's mum, Mary, was my stepmum. Introductions are made, then Gino and David compare notes on form masters, as they both attended St Bede's Grammar school in Bradford, David ten years before Gino. Jackie and Gino are collecting my youngest brother, Andrew, before meeting my niece, Melanie and her family for dinner at Aldo's, an Italian Restaurant in Cleckheaton, about a mile away, so we arrange to meet them there. We drive through Gomersal and when we get to the Town Hall car park in Cleckheaton, arrive simultaneously with Gino, and Melanie. I haven't seen my niece since her wedding day, sixteen years ago, and consequently have never met her two girls, Alex and Hannah. After an initial hug with her and a handshake with her husband, David, she introduces them, Alex, is thirteen, slim, tall and athletic and already a young woman. Her sister, Hannah, is ten, stick thin and slightly gawky, she is also very shy and hides behind her mum, but laughs when I adopt a pretend, evil, Russian accent and tell her, " You do good to hide! Wicked great uncle, likes to eat leetle girrrls!" After this, the ice is broken and we become great friends, playing with her iPhone, which has an app that allows you to take photos and then manipulate them, too alter the eyes, nose, mouth and hair. Taking photos of each other and then turning them into suitable scary monsters. Aldo's is packed, unusual for a Monday evening, until Gino says the restaurant does "early bird", specials to drum up trade. It Is run on similar lines to Florio's in Scarborough, where my cousin Beverley's 60th birthday was held. Italians have a genius for relaxed, friendly, family orientated restaurants. My other brother Chris is already there, with his wife Michelle and their children, Danny, who is about twenty two, Emily, who is sixteen and Lorna, who is Michelle's daughter and about the same age. I introduce Irene and David to everyone and quip that it is a bit like, (Meet the Fockers!) Soon we are absorbed with the business of ordering and eating and exchanging family news. Hannah shows me the pictures of her house in Vancouver, that her dad built himself, it is large by English standards, about six bedrooms, but normal for North America. She has pictures of it emerging through blueprints to foundations to roofing and then completion. In the summer and deep in snow. Although Alex tells me they only had one day of snow this winter, thanks to global warming. Hannah also has a picture of Alex receiving a prize for skating, the athletic physique presumably a result of hours of practice on the ice. I expect that the next time I see Hannah, she will also have metamorphosized into elegant womanhood. After half an hour, I notice Irene and David are a bit isolated, they are sat opposite Chris, who is naturally very quiet, so I change places with Jackie and go to sit next to them. Danny is sat next to his dad and tells me that he is flying to Paris in the morning from Manchester and that Chris is running him to the station for half past five, in order to catch the train to the airport. Danny is a lovely young man, openly and happily gay, with a degree in theatrical make up and a current job on Harvey Nick's makeup department, in Leeds. Between us we get the conversation going at this end of the table and soon I am joined again by Hannah, who wants to play some more. It seems I have another friend. Kids and dogs seem to like me. The party breaks up at a quarter to ten, Aldo giving us his Frank Sinatra routine, singing along to the background music and then we are all outside making our way to the car park to say our goodbyes. Hannah wants to be carried, so I lift her onto my shoulders and pretend to be a horse. Gino tells her that she can steer me by pulling on my ears on the side she wishes me to go, so I am steered back to the car park, where we all hug and kiss and wish them well. Melanie. David and the girls, are flying over to Amsterdam, later in the week and being met by her dad, my brother Graham, who will drive them to his house in Rotterdam for a few days, before returning to England and then flying back to Vancouver. It has been a long, happy and eventful day, I drop Irene and David back in Copmanthorpe, collect Norman and then decide to return home, as I don't feel too tired and the roads are now quiet. We get back around half past eleven and by midnight, are both fast asleep.