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The end of May always seems to get here so quickly. I guess we lose ourselves in the lighter evenings and spend more time looking out at the world, rather than just at the calendar.
We’re into that time of year now when everyone gets a little weird. Only having five hours of darkness affects everyone’s biorhythms, and we all go through it every year, but everyone else apart from me seems to forget from one year to the next and they start moaning about not sleeping well and having head aches. I got bored of explaining circadian rhythms when I was about 12, so I just let people get on with it now and I try not to let their ignorance annoy me.
Personally I love the extra energy we get in Summer. I get so much done. (Apart from on days when it’s raining, then I don’t get anything done and that extra energy gets converted into extra bad-moodiness and I end up ratty and snappy.) Still - Summer is better than Winter, right? I’d rather be overexerted than languishing in a life where daylight ends at 3:30.
I hope this blog is making sense - my legs still ache from cycling and I don’t think I’ve drunk enough alcohol today. But one of those things can be easily rectified so excuse me while I reach for a corkscrew….
RC 31-5-15
It was much nicer today, but that sodding wind we’ve been plagued with for what feels like eternity was still cutting a path through the County. I can’t remember Norfolk being this windy in May, but maybe this is just a freak year and it’s the whole of East Anglia that’s being ravaged by gales, not just here in Suffolk.
I decided to say ‘sod it’ to the breeze and take my bike out anyway. I’m sick of having meteorological excuses for being unfit so I packed a lunch and a big bottle of squash and put in twenty miles on the Velociped. It was tough going at times (cycling uphill into a gusting headwind is never fun) but I feel so much better for doing it. I saw some beautiful sights, I got some fresh air, and I broke my recent habit of sitting on my arse just moaning about the weather.
Then I fell asleep for most of the afternoon, which shows you how un-used my body is to the exercise!
Tonight Philippa and I ate our tea in the garden and had a thoroughly wonderful evening.
Life is good.
Well, it’s better than it was yesterday anyway, and that’s good enough for me for now.
RC 30-5-15
It rained lots today
With unbroken dull grey clouds.
And I am PISSED OFF
RC 29-5-15
The sun came out today, and my recently-hidden good mood came out with it.
I got to sit in my office with the sun streaming through the window (as much as it can when it’s a small window high up on a wall) and I got to go cycling tonight and enjoy the lovely countryside. It was still windy, but I’m starting to get used to the fact that it’s going to be windy every bloody day for the rest of my life. It’s the downside of living on an island that is stuck between a huge body of water and a large land mass I guess. (Geography and geology not being my strong points, of course.)
Or, as one of our customers put it today, “Wishing for a day without wind is like wishing for a wife like Katy Perry”
Indeed.
RC 28-5-15
I got a moany e-mail today telling me I should have ordered more BBQ stuff in before the weekend as it’s ‘disappointing that the stock was sold out before lunchtime on Monday.’
What do they want from me?
I shan’t go on, so let’s change the subject…
I want to book a holiday somewhere over the Summer but Philippa wants to wait until our honeymoon. Are we not allowed more than one break a year? This bloody wedding seems to be the reason (or the excuse) for all my plans to be shot down, at least until January next year. If it’s not relevant to our ‘big day’ I should shut the Hell up and keep things to myself, it seems.
Maybe I’ll just go camping on my own somewhere.
RC 26-5-15
We’d sold out of barbecue coals by quarter past eleven this morning. Bloody British people with their clichés and their conformity. ‘Whit Bank Holiday… slightly nice weather… so lets mow the lawn then have the year’s first barbecue..’ I suppose I should look on the bright side and be grateful that I don’t work in a Garden Centre.
RC 25-5-15
Rained again today. But I’m not going to go on about that, as I want to be positive and upbeat, even though I yet again have to work a Bank Holiday Monday. I thought being a manager would mean I could completely control when I work and when I don’t and guarantee myself holidays off, but it hasn’t worked out that way. I’m just too good to my staff, I really am. I’m such a martyr. A hero, some would say….
RC 24-5-15
I had a frustrating day at work today so I spent an hour bashing the Hell out of my drum kit when I got home. I can’t pretend it was musically brilliant, but it sure got rid of the stress and anguish I was feeling, which was kind of the point.
Then I came in and watched ‘The Silence of the Lambs’ while drinking some lager. Now I am off to bed alone, as Philippa is out playing badminton or trying on wedding socks or something.
A strange day, if I’m honest.
RC 22-5-15
Yesterday’s correspondence with the Bannermans brought a frightening realisation to my mind - it’s NEARLY A YEAR since we moved here! Can you believe that?
In other news - it rained again today. I don’t deal with rain very well. I am now starting to assume that we’re destined for one of those pissy, irritating, shitty Summers where it’s cloudy all the time and rains for at least an hour a day. The anticipation of that is driving me towards suicidal thoughts already, and we’ve only had four days rain in seven. It’s not even proper rain, either, it’s that pissy, irritating, shitty rain that just dribbles out of the sky and hangs in the air like misery, so even though it’s not heavy, the slightest wind can drive it into your eyes and leave you dripping.
God, sometimes living in this country is depressing.
RC 20-5-15
We had an unexpected e-mail from the Bannermans today! Technically speaking, they’re not supposed to correspond with us directly, they’re supposed to go via the agency but I think they, like we, have realised that it’s best to bypass the agency completely.
They just wanted to give us an update and say they’re really enjoying it now and even though they’re heading into Australian winter they are having a blast and have no regrets whatsoever. They don’t want to decide too early, but it seems highly unlikely, or “almost impossible to conceive” as they put it, that they will ever be moving back to England. They also told us how delighted they are with us being in their home, and reiterated their desire for US to have first refusal on it “when, not if” they decide to sell up.
I hadn’t really been thinking about it, but it’s fantastic to know they won’t be coming back anytime soon! I don’t think I could have handled Philippa having to be in Moving Mode when she’s also locked fully into Wedding-Prep Mode. That would have been too much to bear. Now, it looks like we can forget about all things housey for at least another year, and then look to buy it when they’ve made their final decision.
Good stuff.
RC 19-5-15
Glad we had our walk yesterday because it absolutely trashed it down today. It rained and rained and rained. I haven’t seen that much water since I went to see “Titanic”
(I tried really hard to come up with a funny line there, and ended up giving you a cultural reference almost 20 years old. Sorry, but my background is in science, not comedy)
RC 18-5-15
Been lovely today.
I mowed; we had lunch in the garden; we had a walk this evening. All lovely, simple stuff that I would have called boring, middle-aged shite a few years ago, but now I enjoy immensely.
We sat outside a pleasant country pub for a quick cold one and then made our way home as the clouds rolled in and the temperature started to drop. I have to say there is something wonderful about kissing outside while birds are tweeting around you.
Now I plan to end a great day with a celebratory viewing of “The Hangover”
RC 17-5-15
I will cheer up a bit later and post more cheerful blogs, but I wanted to share something with you that I think basically sums up Everything That Is Wrong With England And The English People….
On Tuesday this week I got to work early to treat myself to a fried breakfast in the supermarket café. It was raining, and as I made my way across the wet car park, I saw an elderly woman get in trouble with her trolley. She had her head down trying to avoid the driving rain and failed to spot a big hole in the tarmac as she made her way to Section B. The hole was just the right size for one of the front wheels to jam in, so the front left side of her trolley came to an instant stop, and the momentum of the trolley tipped the whole thing over and dumped her bags of shopping into a puddle. She managed to stop herself falling over, but she’d jolted her wrist when the handle was wrenched from her hand, and being in her late seventies (at a guess) she was obviously not able to bend down to pick everything up. A lad named Jamie, who spends most of his time tidying up the trolley parks and retrieving abandoned trolleys, ran over to her, and between us we were able to right the trolley again and load the poor woman’s shopping back in for her. Jamie offered to call a first-aider for her but she insisted she was ok and just asked for help putting stuff in her car.
Now I’ll admit it did look very funny when the incident happened, and I’m sure if it was captured on camera it would become a very popular clip on ‘calamity’ shows and be shared ad infinitum on social media, but there is a deeper, more sober point.
There were probably upwards of a hundred people milling about the car park that morning, and only two of us bothered to offer help in any way. Most of the others pretended not to have seen, or suddenly found something in their pockets that required their urgent attention, or simply rushed past her to get into the shop.
After the appalling earthquake in Nepal last week, I saw clips on the news of people risking their own lives by running into collapsing buildings to try and save people they didn’t even know. Here in England, when an old woman is struggling with her shopping, people look the other way because they’re more concerned about getting in out of the rain.
Disgrace.
RC 16-5-15
Is it really May?
Thankfully the rain has stopped
But it’s still windy
A dancing flower
Blown by the breath of the Gods
Sways to life’s rhythm
A pair of glasses
Have changed my life completely
Now I see the truth!
Set myself a task:
No alcohol throughout June,
and lots of cycling
Election over
Democracy sleeps again
To dream for five years
Wet May in Suffolk
Still more enjoyable than
living with my mum
I’m not prejudiced
But I have concluded this:
Football fans are thick
Thank God for pollen
Hay fever medications
Flying of the shelves
Old girls and trolleys
are a bad combination
but funny to watch
June is on the way
Soon be strawberry season
Yum, yummy, yum, yum.
RC 10-5-15
We went out for lunch today and found ourselves in the midst of something called “The Old Farm Derby”
I don’t follow football, so the fact that the clubs from Ipswich and Norwich were playing each other in an apparently important match had escaped me completely until we walked into a pub that was showing the match live on their big screen.
We asked for a table for two, and then spent twenty-five minutes having to explain to various punters why we weren’t wearing football shirts or drinking strong lager. When we informed them we actually used to live just north of Norwich and only moved south of the border last year they seemed to get very unsettled, as if the very air in the pub was being polluted by people who may or may not carry some kind of infection. I thought the comment “We don’t support anyone, we’re not interested in football at all” might explain things, but actually it just seemed to confuse them. In the end, we asked to be moved into the conservatory area and then we were able to have a very pleasant time indeed, thank you.
The real ale was excellent, the food was a joy, and there wasn’t one mention of anything to do with weddings.
Marvellous.
RC 9-5-15
Philippa asked me tonight - “If I let you stay out of the wedding planning entirely, will you promise to stop moaning and criticising everything, and just show up on the day and go along with it?”
I said “Absolutely, baby, without a shadow of a doubt.”
She said “Well, you won’t be able to complain if there’s anything you don’t like, because if I’m doing all the work, I’m making all the decisions, and that’s final.”
I said “Baby, as far as I’m concerned you can book Take That to be the choir, as long as I don’t have to make the phone calls.”
She looked hurt and disappointed but I think she’s just fed up with my attitude and would rather cut me out of the build-up altogether.
Which I’m delighted about.
I think.
RC 8-5-15
Had a nice long chat with Hannah tonight. She tells me her and Nathan (or should it be ‘Nathan and she?’) have talked about marriage again. Feels weird to hear my younger sister talking about dedicating her life to one man, but it feels good to know I won’t be the only member of the family suffering through married life. I did try to persuade her to rush plans through and join us for a Christmas Eve ceremony, but she wouldn’t bite. “I’m not going to gatecrash Philippa’s special day” she said. I tried very hard to convince her otherwise but she refused to accept my assurances that it would be ok, and then the phone call ended rather abruptly.
I will not give up though.
I think it would be lovely if all three of us siblings got married on the same day, for many reasons. Mainly because it would deflect attention from me, but that’s not the only positive aspect. It would be romantic. Sharing our special day together with each other would make it all the more memorable and emotional, and I might be able to hide behind Sophie in the photos.
And we could share the costs, which seem to be escalating exponentially as the weeks go by. We spoke to a photographer today and he quoted us £2000 for the photos and a DVD!! Bastard. Philippa’s PHONE only cost £200 and that can take video footage nice and clearly, so what exactly is Mr A.Bastard-Photographer going to do for us?? Photoshop it all so it looks like I’m marrying Katy Perry?
And while I’m having a little whinge about weddings - what the Hell are ‘banns’ and why do they have to be read?????????
RC 7-5-15
Had to buy flowers
To make up for last night’s row
All my fault again
Frosty breakfast time
Silent treatment over toast
Girls can be so cold
To break the silence
Offered to cancel wedding
Which didn’t help much
Speaking again now
Only took me grovelling
From six until nine
In fights with women
The thing I must remember:
I am always wrong
RC 5-5-15
Glorious weather after yesterdays downpour and I spent the day stuck at work after stupidly volunteering to cover the 8 - 6 shift. I don’t even get extra pay like the other staff coz I’m on a management contract. What a fool.
My mood was not good. As more and more people came in to buy barbecue coals along with their petrol I got more and more unhappy and unsettled. Then, to cap it all, Philippa sent me a selfie of her lying in the garden in her shorts and vest enjoying a glass of wine in the sun. Teasing bitch.
I was so worked up when I got home I said things I shouldn’t have and ended up alone in the living room.
Thank God the snooker’s on or I’d really be feeling pissed off right now.
RC 4-5-14
Well it’s been slashing down all day today, so no cycling, walking or outside lovemaking for me today. Instead I indulged in some Wii playing, drank a lot of tea, and watched all 17 frames of the World Snooker Championship Final. I must be getting middle-aged. Or maybe Ted’s years of persuasion have finally hit home and I’m appreciating what used to strike me as the most boring excuse for a sport anywhere on God’s Earth.
One thing I did notice (but only after the first 12 frames) - the colours on our TV are a bit knackered. Philippa walked in and looked at the screen for 30 seconds and then said “Aren’t those 15 orange balls supposed to be red?”
I spent the next hour adjusting the contrast, brightness and sharpness and only made things worse. We ended up with the green ball looking blue and Stuart Bingham’s head resembling a watermelon. At which point Philippa said “Shame those new glasses don’t treat you for colour blindness.” I responded rationally by throwing the remote control at her and folding my arms indignantly. She managed to reset things back to where they were before (bloody show-off) so it still looked weird and wrong but at least my mistakes had been corrected. Now I guess we’ll have to think about a new telly, or just stop watching snooker.
A quick warning, by the way - if you walk into the garage tomorrow and say “Happy Star Wars Day” I will punch you repeatedly in the face.
RC 3-5-15
