Emptier house; fuller year

Some New Years Eve party this is - sitting on my own with a ginger beer and some Pringles wondering what to watch on telly. Everyone left at 6. Sophie has to work an early shift tomorrow, while Nathan and Hannah have a family party to go to. Philippa can’t handle late nights anymore so she’s turned in early, so here I am. A lone Chesworth, ploughing a furrow through the last few hours of 2016. It’s been a good year, as far as I remember. Our first full calendar year as a married couple. Switching from long-term house-sitters to one-year tenants with an option to buy from the owners. Lots of other stuff too, that frankly speaking I can’t be bothered to write about now. 31st December is just another day isn’t it? It starts, it’s light for a while, then it’s dark, then it ends. Why do we have to spend it reflecting on the past 12 months and beating ourselves up if we haven’t advanced? Why do we have to sit and wait for midnight so we can say ‘Happy New Year’ and have a quick snog with someone? Why do we have to have our screens filled with shitty lookbacks in which no-mark celebrities read scripted links about ‘The 10 Most Shocking Wheelspins Of The Year’ while staring at an imaginary person just to the side of the camera?
Damn - I wanted to end the year with a positive blog and here I am back in my old ranty persona. I think I should go to bed. I can always watch the fireworks on iPlayer.
See you tomorrow.

RC 31-12-16
2205 GMT

Houseful of Chesworths

I’m the first person up and about, which surprises me a bit as I was the last one to crash into bed and get some sleep. Last night, by recent standards, was actually pretty tame. I think my family is starting to calm down a little when it comes to parties. Or maybe we were just enjoying the conversations and interactions so much that we didn’t want to taint it with alcohol. Oh, who am I kidding -we were pretty hammered. Tamara came along in the end, but she and Sophie travelled in separate cars. I guess T wanted a way out if it all got awkward and unpleasant. There was a bit of  a frosty atmosphere at first but it’s obvious they love each other and want to sort stuff out, and I’m pretty sure they’ll be fine. Mind you, who am I to make judgements concerning relationships? 

I had planned to make everyone a huge breakfast, but the thought of cooking bacon and sausages is fuelling my nausea considerably, so I may just throw out a huge pile of toast and hope everyone is ok with that. We haven’t really made a plan for today but I might suggest a gentle walk later if we’re all up to it. Fresh air is good for a hangover, they tell me, and I think a stroll in the fog with my wife and sisters would be a nice way to end the year. Mind you - it’s so quiet in the house I’m not sure anyone else will surface before 2017... 

RC 31-12-16

musings from my desktop

This is the last day I have to work in 2016! I have absolutely loads of stuff to get done before 5pm tonight, but it’ll be worth it when I leave and know that I don’t have to come back until Monday. I wouldn’t be so busy today if I hadn’t spent most of the past two days fannying about in the office eating sweets and catching up on Xmas TV. But sod it - they can’t keep a business open 364 days a year and expect the staff to stay dedicated 24/7 can they? Especially when we know that our workload increases at the end of January when we’ll be open overnight as well. But let’s not dwell on that now…
I have to remember to pick some bits up from the supermarket when I leave off tonight. Normally when we have my sisters round we just get a takeaway in or have grub in a pub, but this year Philippa has decided to cook something. So I have a list of strange ingredients to get in for tomorrows Christmas-Chesworth-Reunion-Extravaganza. I think I might accidentally drop some wine in the trolley as well. I know we’ve got plenty of alcohol in the house already, but when we siblings get together we tend to annihilate a fair amount of Hangover Juice between us, so it’s better to be safe than sorry. 

RC 29-12-16

Post-Xmas haiku re: fog

A blanket of cloud
Hanging low over the Earth
Making the air damp

It’s lovely to see
But if you’re driving somewhere
This fog is a bitch

Misty and moisty
Water droplets abounding
Wintry atmosphere

Thick, wet, annoying
A description of the fog
And of Tess Daly

Visibility
Non-existent here today
Like I’m in a sponge

RC 28-12-16

Yule (b)log: (have I made that joke before?)

And so another Christmas Day is consigned to the history books and the memory banks. The recycling bin is full of wrapping paper, the kitchen bin is full of turkey bones and my stomach is full of just about everything edible ever invented by man. I have been enjoying this season of over-indulgence to its limits. Been a bit of a downer being at work today, after spending three days locked away on that wonderful island called ’Christmas,‘ but it’s been quite quiet and everyone’s been in a pleasant mood so the time has passed fairly quickly. It’s much nicer being on the garage side of the business than it was when I was over on the floor of the store. People seem to lose their minds shopping after Christmas just as much as they lose it in the run-up. It makes it less painful to come to work over festive days when I’m not in the middle of that maelstrom. I also have access to iPlayer on my office computer so I’ve managed to catch up with a few Christmas specials that I’d missed by being busy putting things in my mouth.  Doctor Who was a bit disappointing and I have to say the Mrs Browns Boys joke has worn a bit thin now, but I thoroughly enjoyed ‘Witness for the Prosecution’ and I look forward to seeing Part 2 tomorrow. I’m only at work til lunchtime so I’ll have to fit it in somewhere between opening up the forecourt pumps and nipping over to the supermarket café for breakfast….

RC 27-12-16

IT'S HERE!!! AAARRRGGGHHH!!!

I’m up and I’m excited!

It’s Christmas Eve!

I’m off work, my presents are wrapped, our plans are made, the house is full of food, and I’m about to get cracking on a surprise Big Anniversary Breakfast for Philiipa, complete with decorated candlelit table and a bottle of Bucks Fizz. I love her, and I’m proud she’s my wife, and this is a small way of showing the big feelings I have.

It’s nice for me to be excited about Christmas. I never felt this way when I was a child. The main feeling of anticipation wasn’t to do with what presents Santa would bring, it was to do with what room my mum might have passed out in. My sleep was never disturbed by the sound of sleigh bells or sellotape, I was more likely to wake up to the sound of clinking glass as my older sister got rid of all the bottles. We’d probably have half the drinkers in the area round our house from midnight til 4am, as mum insisted on bringing the party home so they could go on boozing after the pub shut. Then she’d surface from bed about 2pm, mumble “Habby Chrispmas” while getting a glass of orange juice, and turn the house upside down looking for clean underwear while the rest of us tried to have a nice time. 

I’m not feeling bitter or angry or sad or damaged as I type all that. I’m just glad it’s all in the past. I love Christmas now and I throw myself into it. I don’t let the bad experiences I had when I was younger ruin what is undoubtedly The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year. I have an incredible wife, a fairly-paid (if sometimes highly stressful job), a nice house, some good friends, and a great relationship with my siblings. Things are ok. And ok is good enough for me.

I guess the moral of this story is - no matter how your life starts, you can turn it into something worth living; no matter where you’ve been before, you can end up somewhere pleasant and peaceful.

I wish you an enjoyable, safe, joyous, calm, loving, fun-filled Christmas, and I thank you for reading my blog.  

xxx

RC 24-12-16

Christmas Special Fri-ku

In twenty four hours
‘Twill be almost Christmas Day
We’re nearly there folks!

I like most music
But Beach Boys’ “Little Saint Nick”
Is a pile of shit

Christmas Eve to you
But to us tomorrow means
ANNIVERSARY!

Christmas will be great 
Even though I have to work
Boxing Day morning

Married for a year
And still Christmas makes me feel
Giddy as a child

RC 23-12-16

Nearly there

I think I may be about to have a bout of insomnia. Anyone who ever struggles with sleepless nights will tell you the worst thing about it is knowing it’s about to happen. You lay in bed, get the thought in your head that you’re going to stay awake, then you start to worry about it which starts your mind whirring and your pulse rate increasing and then it becomes a self-fulfilling whatsit-thingy and you’re doomed to a night of awakedness. 
Bloody nightmare.
Is it possible (I wonder, in a brief aside) for something that keeps you awake to be called a nightmare? Is that oxymoronic? Or paradoxical? See - it’s started already - that kind of shitty thought pattern could keep me going until 3am at least. Then I’ll start to think about work tomorrow, knowing I only have a maximum of four hours sleep available, and by the time I’ve worked out whether I can survive a day at work on the back of four hours sleep, and whether I’ll be able to make up the lost snoozing tomorrow night, another 20 minutes has gone by and I’m that much closer to dawn.
It’s a pain in the arse.
I don’t know where it’s come from. It’s been a long time since this has happened to me. Probably this time last year. What with a wedding, and Christmas, and work stuff, I’m amazed I was able to get to sleep at all last December. At least this year I only have Christmas and work worries to contend with….
Maybe it’s a culmination of busy things that have gone on recently. The band, the threat of overnight opening, the postponement of overnight opening, the confirmation of overnight opening after all, Sophie’s domestic woes. All stuff that’s taken up my time and not been dealt with completely. Maybe now they’re taking advantage of Christmas Craziness to jump to the forefront of my mind and torment me.
There is also the possibility, of course, that had I laid my head down and closed my eyes instead of typing these past few paragraphs of shit I might have fallen asleep by now and all this would be irrelevant…..

RC 23-12-16 
0052 GMT

5 days to go, boys and girls!

I am thoroughly sick of forcing chocolate representations of endangered animal species down my gullet. What seemed like a fun, worthwhile daily chore back on December 1st is beginning to become a lot like a systematic form of self-induced torture. What happened to the days when an advent calendar was just a cute display of the Nativity, with little doors that were opened to reveal a different yuletide picture? And you never knew whether the big double-door on Christmas Eve was going to unveil Santa’s face or the baby Jesus? When did calendars become less about crimbletime and more about calories? When did Santa lose out to sugar? When did thought provocation lose out to treat ingestion? When? Why? And what’s next? Will our other annual December delights be pushed aside for confection-based indulgence? Will you take your traditional turkey roast and replace it with a pile of Ferrero Rocher? Forego the Christmas pudding for the sake of a Toblerone triangle? Where will this madness end????
I may have gone on a bit there, and asked a lot of questions. 
Happy Christmas. 

RC 20-12-16

Acquirement over; let wrapping commence!

I had a mad burst of online shopping today and I think I’ve finished Christmas. It got a bit frenzied, manic and indulgent at one point. I got click-happy and chased the rush of the purchase by chucking any old shit into my virtual basket thinking “Buy! Buy! Buy! You can decide who to give it to later, but buy it now, NOW, NOW!!!”
I daren’t tell you what the final bill came to, but sod it, it’s only once a year. I may have blown a months wages on items that no-one who receives them will be interested in, but sod it, it’s only once a year. I may have gone against all my beliefs and fallen into the annual trap that engulfs lesser, more materialistic mortals, but sod it, it’s only once a year.
And thank God it is only once a year, or I’d be bankrupt, homeless and destitute. 

RC 19-12-16
2040 GMT

Sneaky blog from work...

Sophie spent the day with us yesterday. It was great to see her, even though she wasn’t on top form. Things really are quite bad between her and Tamara, so much so that Tamara has been to stay with her parents for a few days. 
“It might just be work pressures,” Sophie said, “but the same things have been going on for over a year and we’re both sick of them.“
We got Hannah on the phone and managed to pin down some family Christmas celebrations. We’re gonna have a big late-Xmas, early-New Year piss-up at ours on Dec 30th. It’s the only day over the next two weeks that Philippa and I, Hannah and Nathan and Sophie are all off work and available. 
It’s yet to be seen whether Tamara will be joining us…

RC 19-12-16

All About (Christmas) Eve

A week today will be the 24th of December. It’s my favourite day of the year, it’s my last day of work before Xmas, it’s my wedding anniversary and it’s the date that Philippa and I first got together. Do you think we’ve piled too much onto it?

RC 17-12-16

Haiku that isn't haiku

Bought some Christmas presents today.
Finally.  
Still got about 30 more to purchase, but at least I’m out of the starting blocks. 

RC 16-12-16

And the winner is...

Mid-December and I thought it might be time to hand out a few ‘Rory Awards for 2016.‘ I know the year isn’t quite nearly over yet, but the BBC are throwing out awards ceremonies left, right and centre at the moment, so who’s to stop me getting in early as well? It’s my blog and they’re my awards, so shut up and read on….
Favourite Fruit of the Year:   Seedless red grapes
This one surprised me, but I’ve had some wonderful times with these fellows this year. I’m also going against my own traditions, too. Normally I plum (nice pun) for something I’ve never tried before or get swayed by a seasonal specialty that blew me away having not had it for months. This year I’m rewarding something that is available so often that it normally flies under your radar. For sheer consistency and for versatility (2016 is the first time I’ve put grapes into salads…) these guys are worthy winners.
Best Song: 
Not a great year for music, in my opinion, but “Live” by Billie Martin takes some beating.
Most Enjoyed (and Re-Watched online) Film Trailer of the Year:  Suicide Squad
(and if you’re a male aged between 15 and 85 you’ll know exactly why)
Worst Moment at Work:
That appraisal I never told you about where someone who had never been to the garage before asked me questions about things that weren’t even applicable to our place of work and then criticised me for not understanding what he was talking about. 
Best Day of the Year: Bonfire Night 
(although I expect that to be overtaken by Christmas Eve/our anniversary)

RC 15-12-16

reflections on a performance

With a few days separation and with the adrenaline finally out of my system, I thought it might be time to look back on my work at the weekend and see how I really feel about it.
I have to say it was good fun and I’m really rather missing it.  I normally hate being around people and spend as much time alone as possible, but it was so enjoyable I’m considering changing my ways. God, it’s like I’m writing ‘Rory’s Christmas Carol’ or something…
As a bizarre encore, I might be playing in a pub with the band! We were asked by someone in the audience if we fancied providing some Christmas Eve entertainment and we all said we fancy doing it. Whether a group who played a few songs for a theatre show could stretch themselves to keep a rowdy pub going for an evening is a question none of us considered at the time. Anyway, I haven’t heard from anyone since so maybe everyone concerned has seen sense and decided to leave it alone.
This whole experience has certainly stirred my interest in playing other gigs, though.
It’s also brought back thoughts about popping into teaching. Remember I looked at the possibility of schoolwork when I was desperate to get out of the supermarket? 
Hannah gave me a big hug after the show and said how impressed she was with the way I spoke to the children, and ever since then I’ve had a little snippet of an idea rolling repeatedly around my head. I think I’ve still got the info pack I was sent somewhere. Maybe I’ll take another look in the New Year.  
So in conclusion - this was an event I was talked into by my sister, and was really unenthusiastic about; and it’s given me the most satisfying weekend of the year, and led me to consider two separate possible career moves for the future!
Quite an amazing thing, really.

RC 14-12-16

December distractions

I love Christmas, I love December, and I love buying stuff for people, but every year I go through a little spell where it all feels like too much and I feel like I can’t be arsed. I’ll be honest with you and say that today I am firmly locked in that mindset. 
I’ve gone online to try and get some gift buying sorted and so far I’ve read a detailed report of every NFL game that was played at the weekend and watched a Ryan Adams concert on youtube. It’s fair to say my mind is not fully focussed on the task at hand. 

RC 13-12-16

a weekend of wonders

This morning I ate a chocolate hippo. It was a good way to start the week, and lessened the blow of having to return to work after three days off having musical fun and yuletide lovings. 
I’m still buzzing about the Christmas show. It wasn’t great, and my playing was below average at best, but who cares? We were all amateurs, it was all for raising funds, and it was more about camaraderie and teamwork than it was about precision and professionalism. We had a laugh and the audience seemed to enjoy themselves, which his great. And the youngsters involved - some of whom were doing this sort of thing for the first time ever - were fearless, fabulous and inspirational. And as much as it might pain me a little to say it - most of that is down to Hannah. She led them, coached them, coaxed them, directed them, helped them, pushed them and mentored them, and to each of them she’s a hero. 
To me, she’s still the little sister who was a pain the arse through my childhood, but I have to say I’m proud of her, and I’m grateful she got me involved. 

RC 12-12-16

WE DID IT!!!

Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, I have now officially made my debut as a drummer! My first public performance is done, sorted and over.
What a relief!
When we had to start playing the opening number my hands were shaking so much I couldn’t control the drumsticks. Thankfully the bass player was sitting beside me and said “Just close your eyes and pretend you’re playing at home.” I followed his advice, and it helped. It’s hard to get freaked out by the presence of an audience when you can’t see them. 
The kids on stage were 300 times better than they’d been at any rehearsal, and it became very clear very quickly that the people watching were behind them all the way and couldn’t care less if everything wasn’t perfect. That took the pressure off and helped me relax, and I’m convinced my drumming improved as a result. By the time we got to the finale, I would go so far as to say I was enjoying it! 
The headmaster got on stage at the end and thanked the kids for all their hard work (cue rapturous cheering), Hannah for putting the show together (cue ’whoops’ from the children), the staff and friends of the school for attending and sorting refreshments (cue enthusiastic clapping) and then us in the band for providing musical backing (cue polite ripple of applause)
But hey - we didn’t do it for the accolades, we did it for the fun of it.
That’s the ‘school’ performance sorted, now we just have to turn up tomorrow for the two ‘community’ shows and then it’s done. Should be a good day really. People from the local area can come in and pay a quid to watch and it all goes into the funds for the theatre group. The local scouts and brownies and beavers and cubs etc are coming, and a crowd from a couple of old folks homes. Be nice for the kids if it’s well supported. But we’ll make it a fun day anyway. We’re all taking food and drink to have between shows, and they’re lighting up the Christmas tree in the evening. All very festive. And hopefully, now I’ve ‘popped my cherry’ I won’t be so nervous when we do it again. It’s hard to sit comfortably on a drum stool when you’ve spent an hour in the toilet with your arse turning inside out. 

RC 9-12-16

Roll on Saturday....

Tomorrow is the school play thing and I am really rather nervous. The rehearsals this week have gone really well, and I’ve been praised by the rest of the ‘band’ for my efforts and my ability to keep the rhythm of the songs going even when they’re being massacred by people on stage singing in the wrong time and the wrong key, but I’m still suffering some pre-gig nerves. I haven’t been drumming all that long really, and it’s not as if I’ve diligently practised day-in, day-out since I got my kit, and I’ve never performed in public before, and tomorrow there could be 200 parents in the audience. The only thought in my head is AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!
Part of me is hoping I’ll be ill overnight and therefore unable to turn up. I think it’s the same part of me that hoped I’d die on the night before my GCSEs, even though I wanted to do them, and do them well, so I could go off to university. Nervous energy does strange things to you. I think it gets created by your body from all the adrenaline, then it floats around your body looking for a place to latch onto, eventually settling for your mind, where it expends itself by making you visualise horrible, terrible, soul-destroying outcomes, like playing the damn song backwards or accidentally stabbing someone’s eye out with a drumstick.
I’m hoping this is a “day before is worse than the day itself” scenario, but I’m not sure. I’m hoping I’ll wake up tomorrow feeling confident and full of excitement, but I’m also preparing myself for the fact that I’ll wake up tomorrow feeling EVEN WORSE THAN TODAY.
Anyway, in cheerier news, I have to say the supermarket have been fantastically supportive about this. They’re giving me the whole of tomorrow off unpaid so I can get there in good time, and even though the school is in a different County they’ve donated lots of raffle prizes to help them raise more funds. When they put their minds to it, they’re a damn good company to work for.
(Until January, when they’ll be forcing us to open overnight and expecting me to change my hours accordingly. But let’s not dwell on that now - let’s highlight the good stuff and continue the Christmas positivity.)
For my advent treat this morning I had a tiger. But I’d left the calendar leaning against a radiator, so the tiger looked more like an ant foetus.

RC 8-12-16

Step away from the tinsel...

We had a call from Ted this morning: “Beryl is having her annual ‘try out new food concoctions so you’ve practised them before Christmas’ day, so why don’t you come over and get fed for free?”
We didn’t need asking twice! We paused in mid-decorating and hotfooted it up to their house. Beryl gets more adventurous every year. She can’t move too well because she’s still waiting for her knee op, but you can’t keep a good woman down, and she’s not gonna let a little thing like a knackered knee joint stop her from creating heavenly things in the kitchen. She convinces herself every November that ’this year might be my last’ so she goes bigger and better and madder and sweeter, to make sure her last Christmas as a hostess and cook is a good one. So today I’ve tried home-made parsnip crisps with a spicy berry dip, turkey and ham tajine with added ginger and cinnamon, and chocolate-coated rum mince pies with a saffron sugar coating.
Every dish a triumph! But of course Beryl wasn’t happy with herself and has spent the evening thinking of ways to tweak everything to make it even nicer.
And you know what the funniest thing is? They’re not even at home for Christmas - all the family are renting a cottage in Devon for the week so they can all be together down there. So these ’Christmas Specials’ aren’t even for Christmas - they’re going to be used on New Year’s Day when everyone is back at theirs.  But she’s still plotting and planning as if she’s doing a Christmas Day feast for the County.  
Amazing woman, Beryl. 

RC 4-12-16

Excited little 9-year-old me

This is the last Saturday I’ll be working before Christmas, and Philippa and I have pencilled in tomorrow to put some decorations up. 
You can’t tell this from simply reading my typing, but I have a smile on my face so big that it’s threatening to rip my cheeks apart. I’m like a watermelon with teeth.

RC 3-12-16

A poem about December

It fills my soul with plentiful light
It makes me feels close to God, even though I question his existence
It reminds me of the sanctity of friendship
It forces upon me appreciation of the plentiful bounties of life
It guides me to ignore the clouded temptation of pointless material offerings 
It makes me smile

It teaches me the truths of giving over receiving
It is colourful, wonderful, joyful
It is hope, fun, love and peace
It is all things to all, yet a different thing to each of us
It is the time of Christ, of Christmas, of carols and of caring
It is here!

RC 2-12-16

December 1, postscript

I should maybe point out, by way of explanation, that I have a special £5 calendar from a charity that rescues animals in Africa, and they’ve tailored their chocolates to suit. Every day an adventure! (or a safari, if you will….)

RC 1-12-16
2035 GMT

December 1 !!

Would you like me to update you daily on my advent calendar chocolates? Would you?? Go on then - this morning I had a giraffe. 

RC 1-12-16

Chocolate tomorrow!

Wouldn’t it be nice if I carried on writing long blog postings, even though I’m no longer limited to how often I post them? If I kept up this rate of wordage on a daily basis and became almost an obsessional writer who churns out thousands of words a day, like Enid Blyton did, but online.
It’s very unlikely, but wouldn’t it be nice?

Today I am content to be going to bed, knowing that tomorrow morning I can turn over the RSPB calendar and see a lovely picture of a robin resting on a fencepost in a snowy garden, underneath the word ‘December.’ It’s the most wonderful time of the year, even though I’m not really into it yet. I have not bought one present, nor had one thought about what the presents I haven’t bought yet might eventually be, nor compiled my usual annual CD-of-Christmas-stuff-to-listen-to-in-the-car, nor thought about new decorations, or where we might have stored the old ones, and yet somehow there is a twinkle in my minds eye that wasn’t there this morning.
We are on the cusp of Christmas, my friends. Joy to us all!

In other news, Sophie and Tamara aren’t speaking to each other. My sister has asked if she can come and spend all Christmas with us because (and this is a direct quote) “If I have to be with that selfish bitch much longer I’ll be strangling her with tinsel and shoving a mince pie up her craphole. In that order….”
There is often trouble in that particular corner of paradise, so I’m not surprised the seas of Sophieland are choppy once more. I shall offer a disinterested ear and wait until it all blows over and they lock themselves away in a hotel room somewhere to make up for all the unpleasantness. Until that day comes, I can refuse to let it upset my impending yuletide enjoyments by mostly ignoring it. Being selfish, misanthropic and with a total lack of empathy may not make me a nice person, but it makes life easier for me, and that’s the most important thing.

SEE YOU IN CHRISTMAS MONTH!!!!!!

RC 30-11-16

Advent Eve Eve

Time for another one of my long updates….
I have badly missed the discipline and routine of more regular blogging.  I’m so glad it’s nearly the end of this month so I can go back to limitless amounts of postings. I may go mad in December and over-do it a bit and end up putting up 37 blogs in 10 days, but we’ll see. I like my little challenges, but in future I shall shy away from any that stifle my creativity as much as this one.

We had our first full rehearsal at the school today. I was looking forward to it, especially after Friday night when the band really tightened things up. We weren’t perfect, but we’d made good progress and we were ready to get things going with the cast. Then today, shortly after arriving at the school, I got called back to the garage for an ‘emergency’ which actually turned out to be a ‘minor incident’ that I wasn’t needed for, and by the time I’d got back to the classroom everyone had started without me. Not a good first impression, and I didn’t feel like I fully recovered. I hadn’t expected great things from the students, but even I was surprised by the lack of talent on display! This show needs a looooootttttttt of work and unfortunately we only have two more rehearsals with them before curtain up! Oh well - the parents in the audience will be concentrating on the kids rather than us, and as long as we’re halfway acceptable I think we’ll be ok. If the kids feck the songs up, it ain’t my fault. 

I thought getting involved in the show might push me over the edge as far as yuletide festivities goes. I’ve been having it rammed down my throat in messages from Head Office since September, and I’ve been secretly longing for the first week of January, but playing the Xmas songs with the band has managed to pull my head back into the ‘fun’ aspects of December, and these lovely, cold, frosty mornings are ramping up the cosy Winter feelings as well.
36 hours til my first Advent chocolate!!!

RC 29-11-16

11 done (including this one), only 2 to go....

My occasional obsession with numbers may be sabotaging my determination to blog frequently. I’m on target to achieve something I haven’t done since 2010 - posting a different number of blogs in each calendar month of a given year.  So far in 2016 I’ve totalled every number from 14 to 23 inclusive. I wasn’t confident I’d be able to hit the mid-twenties in November and December, so I decided to limit myself to 13 postings this month, so I’ve allowed myself to be a bit lazy. Even the little writings I’ve done have been barely more than a paragraph. It’s not like I haven’t got anything to write about - Christmas imminent, band rehearsals, plans to change the garage, Movember, Philippa’s ongoing one-woman crusade to reach Motherhood - I’m just choosing not to write about it, for fear of over-running the blog count and failing to achieve some silly little unimportant goal that is absolutely meaningless to everyone in the world except me.  But then again - it’s my blog and it’s up to me how I run it, so maybe I should give myself a break.
Either way, there’s a week left in November and I’ve only got 3 remaining postings to play with, so I may as well make this one worthwhile and run on a bit and let you catch up with the things I’ve been failing to tell you:

I’ve been calling Philippa ‘Pippa’ and it turns out she doesn’t like it very much. I don’t know how I got into the habit, I just used it once and it felt nice and it felt personal, so I’ve been using it on-and-off since. But, like most things connected with my wife at the moment, it turns out I was doing something wrong. I got the hint when she said “If you keep calling me Pippa I’m going to start calling you Ches.”

We had a band rehearsal for the Christmas do last weekend. If I had to sum it up in three words those words would be ‘clumsy’, ‘disjointed’ and ‘embarrassing.’ But they’re all nice people and we’re all enthusiastic, and we’re all as bad as each other, so hopefully I won’t stand out as being particularly untalented. Plus, not being nasty but let’s be honest, it’s a school production so it’s not as if the acting on-stage is going to be mind-blowingly good, so we should fit right in. We’re getting together again tomorrow night, then we have an after-school rehearsal with the kiddiewinks next Tuesday. That’ll be nerve-wracking and chaotic, but gives me a nice excuse for an afternoon off. Head Office are very keen on the idea of fostering links between the supermarket and the local community, so they’re letting me work a half-day without it counting as taking holiday. Good stuff. If I work this right and expand this ‘drumming in schools’ malarkey maybe I can end up spending three days a week in local schools, while being paid a managers wage by the supermarket….

I think that’ll do for now. I’ve just written over 500 words for Christ’s sake, what the Hell do you want from me????

RC 24-11-16

Queens face

There was a programme on last night about the life of Freddie Mercury, the lead singer of Queen. About five minutes into it Philippa shifted her gaze from the screen to my face, then back to the television again, then back to my face. Then she said “I knew your moustache reminded me of someone” and started singing “Oh, how I want to break freeeeeee…”
God, I hate her.
Three weeks into Movember, and here’s the complete list (as far as I can remember) of names that people have called me:

Fuzzface
Ferret-kisser
Ned Flanders 
Freddie Mercury
Generic 70s porn star
Saddam Hussein
Fanny-face
C**t-lips
Arkwright from Open All Hours
Mingemouth

RC 21-11-16

Five weeks today = Xmas Day

I’ve been spending most of this evening watching Andy Murray win the World Tennis thing, while drinking. Then I immediately switched over to watch “Planet Earth II” which is simply miles clear at the top of the table when it comes to the category ‘TV programme of the year.’
Two more points before I drift off to the fridge for another can of Guinness. 1 - isn’t it nice of Andy to finish his match just in time for the start of Planet Earth? And 2 - How, how, how can anyone, anywhere, ever moan about the BBC when it serves up stuff like it has done today?

I’m back from the fridge now. Two points I’d like to make for anyone who, like me, has discovered in their thirties just how great a drink stout is, but who might be considering Movember next year. The two things do not mix well. The frothy head just clings to your moustache, which acts like a weird kind of strainer, and the whole experience is weird and distracts you from the pleasantness of the drink.

I desperately want to go and visit the Guinness factory in Dublin, but I’d have to do it after shaving, so I’m trying to persuade Philippa to let me book us a weekend in Ireland before Christmas. So far she’s not agreeing……

RC 20-11-16

'Tachepoint

I asked Philippa for a kiss tonight and she said “You’ll get a snog when you get a shave.”  I pointed out I was doing this for charity and to raise awareness of men’s health issues and maybe that should be celebrated and she said “I agree. It’s great, and I fully support you. But I signed up to kiss Rory, not Ned Flanders. Come and see me in December.”

RC 17-11-16

more fuzz, less fun

Philippa hasn’t kissed me since Friday. She blames the ‘cookie duster’ but I think that’s just an excuse. She’s been cooling towards me for a while now and this is just the latest stage in a gradual ceasing of physical activities. I was warned before our wedding that agreeing to a marriage was a sure-fire way to attain celibacy and I laughed, but maybe there was some truth in it. So many people that I know lost the spark in their sex life when they became Mr and Mrs. There must be some deep psychological change that is instigated within a woman’s body when you place a band of gold upon her finger, or maybe women just give it up to you until they’ve snared you, and then they give it up. Who knows? All I know for sure is, I’m getting hairier and hornier by the day. 

RC 16-11-16

Top lip top dog

My moustache is growing quicker than anyone elses… Evidently I am, quite frankly, the manliest man in the garage. Maybe my previous attempts at beard growth have instilled an understanding in my face of what is needed to keep hair sprouting quickly. Or maybe I’m just a REAL MAN…

RC 15-11-16

each in our own way

It may be disrespectful even typing this, but I want to share with you the most bizarre comment I heard over Remembrance weekend:
“Giving a random soldier a blow job is not the same as wearing a poppy”

Facial hair; and a faeces with hair

Ten days into Movember and my moustache is starting to itch. Every time I kiss Philippa now she pulls back with a repulsed look on her face. That’s got nothing to do with Movember, by the way, it’s just the state of our marriage. 
I suppose I should mention the US election. It is, after all, the big news story of the week. Possibly the biggest news story of the year. Depends on what other strange turns of events we’re yet to face in this weirdest, most unpredictable of all years. I did sit up on Tuesday night and watch a bit of the election coverage. I was hoping that Hillary would sweep the first few states and I could go to bed happy, but no. When I turned in most of the results were pending, meaning it was closer than anticipated, so I quickly wrote this as a possible blog post for Weds morning:
“Sadly, the election is too close to call, so here we go with months of legal bollocks and bitchiness til we finally find out who won sometime in the New Year, and in the meantime we’ll be bored to death by yet more wrangling and accusations. I think they should just put them in a locked room together and the last one standing is the winner. I’m confident she could kick his arse. (Sorry, we’re talking about Americans - I mean she could kick his ASS.)”
I was hoping to wake up and hear about a Donald Trump landslide. By which I mean - that he’d been buried underneath one.
But as the Rolling Stones once said “You can’t always get what you want.”
Now let’s never speak of it again.
Let’s ignore it, and pretend it never happened.

RC 10-11-16

D (for Donald?)-Day

And so we reach the night of another US election.
We have a regular customer at the garage called Brad (could he have a more American name?) He’s originally from Wisconsin and I asked him today how he wanted the vote to go. He said “Put it this way - I’ll be sitting up tonight with a pot of coffee and a kitchen knife and if Donald Trump wins I’m going to kill myself.”
Couldn’t have put it better myself.

RC 8-11-16

Beer bravado?

Despite it being just above freezing I decided to bike to work today. Not entirely sure why. Maybe it was the weekends alcohol still coursing through my system and making me feel braver and more able than I am. We’re all adults, right? I’m sure you’re familiar with that strange effect on your confidence (and misunderstanding of your own abilities) that comes about when you’ve sucked a few sherbets. Women who would normally seem out of your reach suddenly seem approachable; men who would normally scare you to death become people you’re prepared to stand up to. It’s all a
lie, and it’s dangerous, but I guess it accounts for about 80% of the decisions that are made on Friday and Saturday nights in the UK.
So I biked to work. And it was fine. But then the alcohol slowly left my system, and it got dark, and it got cold, and I had to bike home. And at that point I remembered I don’t have lights on my bike. So there were two choices – go to the cycling section of the supermarket and blow twenty quid on something I’d only be using for ten minutes, or take my life in my hands and head home without them and hope for the best.
I’m not proud of what I did, but I’m posting this now so I guess I got away with it. And I can only apologise to the drivers that were disturbed by my decision, and forced to swerve to avoid my barely-noticeable velociped as it careered up the dark roads of Suffolk…..

RC 7-11-16

Whizz! Bang! Woooooooo!

Is there anything better than a weekend of overindulgence?
In the past three days we have been to THREE different fireworks events. One was a big, public, town centre, council organised event that we had to pay to attend; one was a small village gathering with hot soup and hot dogs and some simple entertainment, and one was a private party held in someone’s garden. All, in their own way, were wonderful. Guy Fawkes Night may well be my favourite occasion of the year now. Philippa enjoyed the events, but not my enthusiastic intake of ‘warming whiskey.’ My attitude these day is “What is a bonfire without a hip flask?” but she seems to not agree. Her parting sentence to me as she retired to bed tonight was “You’ll never get me pregnant if you keep drowning your sperm in alcohol.”

RC 6-11-16

Hellowe'en Dream

I had an awful dream last night.
I had biked to attend what I thought was a fireworks display, only to discover that it was actually Donald Trump’s Presidential Election Victory Celebration. It turned out that on the eve of the vote, Hillary Clinton had decided to leave her husband and shack up with Trump to form what she called ‘The Ultimate Sex-Led Power-Party in American Political History’ She looked strangely younger and thinner than in real life, but I guess that’s what happens when you sell your soul to the devil.
I tried to bike away from it all but my wheels were stuck in mud and no matter how hard I pedalled I couldn’t get anywhere. Then a guy came over dressed like Ronald McDonald and said “I’d stay where you are mate. Why race off? The blast from a hydrogen bomb travels 20 miles so it’s not as if you’ll escape with your life intact.”
I knew I shouldn’t have watched that late night documentary. It put strange worries in my head that my subconscious obviously tried to eviscerate in the dreamsphere. 
Sometimes I wish I was thicker, so I’d only dream about things like chocolate and midgets wrestling. 

RC 31-10-16

Book review

Done it. Completed one of my challenges. This weekend. I’ve read the first Harry Potter book.
I found it a bit childish.

RC 30/31-10-16

blah, blah, blah

What a beautiful day to go cycling. 
Perfect for it really - still, no rain, dry roads, no wind, no blinding low sun. Perfect. So it’s a shame I missed out by having to go into work this morning. So many people are down with this shitty flu bug that we’re all working extra and still sitting short-staffed. So when I got a call at 5.45 am telling me Bethan was unable to make her shift I wasn’t in the least bit surprised. I wasn’t in the least bit suspicious, either. All my employees have their faults as people, but as members of a team I have nothing to complain about. No-one takes an unjust sicky, no-one drops us in it at short notice and no-one craps on one of their workmates to make life better for themselves. They’re all stars. I give myself a bit of credit for this and say that a lot of their attitude is the consequence of my skills as a leader. I treat them with respect, I have their backs at all times and I never ask them to do anything that a) I wouldn’t be prepared to do myself and b) they won’t benefit from in some way. But it does hack me off a bit when I have to travel in to cover one of them on the last day of BST and miss the last chance this year for me to take myself cycling and not have to worry about being back before teatime. 
Mind you, I’ve been home 15 minutes and there’s still 3 hours of daylight left, but instead of getting my bike out and saving as much of the day as I can and enjoying it I’ve now wasted several minutes sitting here moaning about it, so who is really to blame? 

RC 29-10-16

"Event TV" drives me to suicide

I lost Philippa for two hours last night to the final of the Great British Bake-Off. I didn’t even know she was interested in it, but apparently she’s been watching all the episodes on iPlayer at work and was determined to see the final ‘live.’ 
I had two choices - sit beside her and watch this drivel unfold or get the Hell out of there and hide myself in the garage. So I picked up my sticks and practised my Christmas drumming. I wasn’t happy about it. Why should I be ousted from my own home just so my wife can waste her life watching something with no intellectual value whatsoever; just so she can keep up with the thing that everyone else is keeping up with, not because they enjoy it, but because they don’t want to be the only person at work who didn’t see it and therefore can’t feel part of the masses by joining in with the banal conversations about who should have won and who shouldn’t have?
See - I don’t even watch it, and my intelligence and ability to write short, coherent sentences has been severely dumbed-down anyway, simply by my knowledge of it’s existence. 
I know different people have different viewing tastes, but why waste time on something that teaches you nothing, expands you not one little bit, and just adds to the mindless mire of modern mankind, when you could be reading a well-written book or watching Carl Sagan’s “Cosmos” on youtube? I used to enjoy programmes like “Ready, Steady, Cook” because there were fun interviews involved in it, and it actually taught you how to cook stuff you might not have thought of trying before. That shit last night was just up-themselves inept presenters walking around a tent while fame-hungry, desperate nobodies threw together a plateful of sugar, which was then tasted and rated by a dead woman and a man from a ‘Just For Men’ advert.
Is this really what British TV has come to?
It’s people rolling pastry, for feck’s sake. 

RC 28-10-16

Same marriage, different obsessions

I’ve decided I’m going to buy some fish. I don’t know if this is some kind of midlife crisis, or a paternal instinct kicking in, or yet another one of my little short-lived random choices of hobby appearing out of nowhere, but I’m going to go ahead with it anyway. We have a lovely space in the hallway that would be perfect for a large tank. 

Philippa has decided we should reduce our meat intake. I have a horrible feeling this is something to do with conceiving. She’s probably read somewhere that too much bacon cuts down your sperm count so she’s going to change my diet accordingly. So it’s out with the burgers and sausages and in with the haddock and soya. Doesn’t bother me - I can get a breakfast in the staff canteen every morning and keep up my transfats that way.

RC 26-10-16

Over-reaction?

It is the worst thing imaginable to crunch down on a piece of egg shell. Especially when it’s unexpected. You make yourself a fry-up, or a boiled egg sandwich, and you are convinced you’ve peeled off the shell completely, and you take a big bite, ready to enjoy the succulent juiciness of protein-rich liquid squirted into your mouth…. only to feel that horrible broken-glass sensation as you find a bit of shell that had somehow hidden itself in plain view, (being as it is a dark, hard substance surrounded by a light-coloured yolk/albumen.) It can ruin the meal, your day, and your feelings about the world in general.
Hate it.

RC 25-10-16

list (revisited)

I remembered today that I had set myself a challenge back in early September to achieve a certain number of things before the end of the year. Now we’re suddenly approaching the end of October (and almost halfway through my allotted time) I thought I’d look at it again and update you on my progress:
Have a holiday abroad. Still undone. Still unbooked.
Do a 50-mile-in-one-day cycle ride. Unlikely……
Shave my head. Not done. Not planning to be done.
Read a Harry Potter book. Most likely to occur, but not yet started.
Spend a weekend in London with Philippa. Still hopeful….
Not going so well, then. Mind you, I have committed to Movember and agreed to play the drums for Hannah, so my list has gone to shit but I will be growing a moustache and taking part in a Christmas show. So the rest of the year won’t be wasted.
While we’re discussing the passing of time, can I just share this scary quote with you, from one of my staff members (a lady with two children):
“Can you believe it’s half-term? That past seven weeks has just pissed by. And you know what this means? In another seven weeks they’ll be breaking up for Christmas…..”

RC 24-10-16

MDCC

This is my 1700th blog. Yes - 1700. Wow. I’ve done so many now that it almost seems meaningless to keep count, but I’ve always liked statistics and I like to mention milestones of note, so forgive me for mentioning it one more time - after I finish typing this and hit the button marked “publish” I will have posted on this blog for the 1700th time…
To celebrate, here are some facts about the year 1700 (followed by some crap I made up) See if you can work out at which point the truth becomes sidelined for the lies:

1. The year 1700AD started on a Friday. 
2. Pope Clement XI succeeded Pope Innocent XII, becoming the 243rd Pope. 
3. The world population is estimated to have been 600-700 million.
4. Japan was hit by a tsunami, caused by an earthquake.
5. Most of central Edinburgh was destroyed by a fire.
6. Lions became extinct in Libya (estimated date)
7. Abraham Lincoln patented the flushing toilet.
8. The 1st Annual Mah-Jongg World Championship was held in Helsinki. It was won by a Russian gymnast called Olga Karmyolenko (who was 12)
9. Due to a clerical error at NASA, the month of October happened twice.
10. A homesick bear was elected Member of Parliament for Tewkesbury.
11. The King of Bolivia banned the importing of Rubiks cubes and Dairylea slices. 
12. In Penzance, Cornwall, 12 feet of rain fell every day for the entire year.

RC 23-10-16

Just call me 'Sticks'

For better or worse I’ve said I’ll do the drumming for Hannah’s Christmas thing. Why would I say no? I’ve been saying for years I’d like to play with other musicians and this is an opportunity. The shows are about what’s happening on stage rather than what’s happening in the orchestra pit so there won’t be too much pressure on us. It’s not like people are paying twenty quid each to come and see us in a stadium is it? Plus we’re being put together just for this show, so once the three performances are over we can go our separate ways and never work again if we choose not to. That suits me fine. I can deal with people for a couple of months as long as I know it’s a temporary arrangement, even if they’re complete arseholes. This is going to provoke me to practice more, as well. I love drumming and I love to try and get better at it, but I’m also a lazy sod so by the time I’ve got in from work and had some food I find it hard to drag myself out into the garage. I’d rather cuddle up with Philippa and have her repel my sexual advances. Now the nights are getting rapidly darker and longer it’ll give me something to do in the evenings besides sitting around moaning about the fact that I can’t go cycling. (I may not have mentioned this before, but I struggle somewhat through Winter….)

RC 21-10-16

damned with faint praise?

Hannah has asked if I’ll play the drums for her youth theatre group. They’re doing a Christmas show with a few musical numbers in it and they’re trying to put a band together. I told her I’m not good enough to be in a professional group and she said “Oh, don’t worry. Everyone is amateur. You’ll all be as shit as each other.”

RC 20-10-16

a gentle warning (in haiku)

Soon be Hallowe’en
You dress like a clown near me
and I’ll snap your neck

RC 18-10-16

Sod's law?

The weekend was great. Relaxing, energising, sexy. Just what I needed after a week of annoyance and lethargy. I went back into work this morning half expecting some kind of conflict or corporate meltdown, so I had my defences on alert and my cynicism on stand-by, and was ready to throw some barbed retorts at anyone and everything in my way. And of course it turned out to be a perfectly normal, nice, manageable Monday. No awkward customers, no staff problems, no moronic dictatorial changes foisted down from Head Office. Just a calm, pleasant, bright Autumnal day resplendent with the changing colours of the season and a gentle breeze.
Tomorrow I’ll probably feel tired and unprepared and walk headlong into a maelstrom of apocalyptic carnage that will leave me battered and shivering. 

RC 17-10-16

feelgood

I’m so glad it’s Friday night I could boil my own blood and drink it by way of celebration. Admittedly, a pinot noir would taste nicer, but I hope you see what I mean. I’m incredibly pleased the week’s over and I’m trying to express that to you in the strongest terms possible. Nothing particularly bad has happened, I’m just feeling tired and run down and fed up with work and really looking forward to two days at home with the missus. I may suggest a meal out tomorrow and a nice evening walk somewhere. Because it’s only two weeks til we return to GMT and it’ll be too dark to do anything after 5 except mug old women or watch fireworks. 

RC 14-10-16

big breakthrough

Have you ever used a shoe-horn?
I ask because I have one in my possession for the first time ever. We were trying out the new supermarket brand cheap-and-nasty Christmas crackers, as we’ll be stocking them in the garage from Nov 1st (why wait til after Bonfire Night like tasteful human beings would, right Head Office?)
There are shitty presents in them like a bag with 3 marbles, a magic trick that doesn’t work, and a mirror that’s too small to see anything more in reflection than your eyebrow.
But I got a shoe-horn.
I didn’t even know what it was at first, I had to ask someone else what this curved piece of plastic was. For those of you, like me, unfamiliar with them - you put it in the back of your shoe, then you slide your heel down it, and it forces your foot into your shoe even if it’s too tight for you. IT’S INCREDIBLE!!!!
I am never, ever untying my shoelaces again.

RC 13-10-16

Midweek moans, and a little something to look forward to...

Rained today. A lot. But you probably know that, as we all inhabit the same part of the country, and even if we don’t, the chances are that if you’re in Britain it was raining at times today, and even if you’re not in Britain you’ll know what Britain’s like, and most of the time it rains. ‘Permanently Overcast’ should be our national motto.

Two of my staff members were off sick today, so I was back behind the counter at various times. It made a nice change from being on my own in my office, but it never ceases to amaze me just how thick some people are nowadays. We had a lady today who explained to her child that the numbers ‘95’ and ‘98’ on the unleaded pumps referred to the year the petrol was taken from the ground. Children are naturally inquisitive but they understand that parents aren’t blessed with unlimited knowledge. I’m sure they’d be happy if you said “I don’t know the answer to that, but we can look it up together when we get home.” Wouldn’t that be better than giving them any old bullshit that pops into the top of your head? 

I’m refusing to turn any heating on, even though my fingertips are almost too cold to type.

Three weeks from Saturday will be Bonfire Night. Time to start researching which fireworks display we’ll be making our way to this year….

RC 12-10-16

as ever was; so ever shall be

I walked across to the store at lunchtime today and the Sun was so warm it felt like August. I took off my jumper and let my arms feel the joy of the freedom of wearing a short-sleeved shirt.
By the time I finished my meeting and made the return journey it was overcast and ten degrees colder. A Hell of a change in ninety minutes, and doesn’t that sum up the British climate? While the sky is clear it’s delightful; as soon as cloud strikes it’s unbearably dull and cool.

RC 10-10-16

Triple whammy

We spent the day indoors today and watched three different movies. Count ‘em! THREE different movies! What a way to spend a Sunday! Philippa was exhausted after her busy day of buying shoes yesterday, and my thighs were aching like an old woman’s hips after all my cycling, so we settled down on the sofa and indulged in some Home Cinema Heaven.  I have to admit that “The Fault In Our Stars” wouldn’t have been my first choice, but Philippa was very keen, and it turned out to be much better than I expected. Shailene Woodley is such a terrific actress. If she doesn’t win an Oscar within the next 5 years I’ll shave my eyeballs and never watch films again. (I’m confident everyone will forget this pledge and I’ll never be held to it in the future…) Next we took a look at “Edge of Tomorrow” which was a bit of silly fun and very well plotted indeed for a mindless action sci-fi. And we ended our trifecta with a classic - the Woody Allen film “Annie Hall.” (I know a trifecta is a betting term and not applicable to film-watching, but it’s a nice sounding word and deserves more use, so bite me…) I’m really tempted to put something else on now and make it Four-In-One-Day, but I fear I’d fall asleep before the end of the first half-hour. It’s amazing how tiring it is watching seven hours worth of films!

RC 9-10-16

Waffle

Philippa wanted to do some girly shopping shit today so I took myself off for a bike ride. It was a chilly start to the day but once the sun cleared the clouds it was a lovely, Autumnal, October day. A slight headwind dampened my spirits for the first ten miles or so, but I had picked my route deliberately so that I would have the wind behind me on the return trip, and that was the thought that kept me plugging away at the pedals when the unpleasantness of the air rushing into my nostrils was matched only by the burning in my thighs. I stopped to eat my pack-up in a churchyard next to a sheep field and enjoyed my corned beef sandwiches as I watched the animals going about their business. My body felt good and my mind felt clear and it was wonderful to just sit there surrounded by nature and to feel connected to it on a real, tangible level. The journey home was like an effortless flight on a bike-shaped cloud, as my legs kept moving as if controlled automatically and my breathing remained regular and energising. Thoughts drifted in and out of my consciousness like feathers floating on a river, and I neither gave them the time of day nor ignored them nonchalantly. Arriving back at home felt like a huge disappointment, and such was my determination to keep the carefree feelings flowing that I cycled straight past our drive and took in another circuit of paths that added a good six extra miles to an already satisfyingly long voyage.

The end result of all this is that my knees feel like condoms full of gravel.
  

RC 8-10-16

Haiku. Friday. October.

Another week gone
Five more days of work hassles
And chilly weather

Nights are darkening….
But I don’t want to bore you
With my Winter woes

I like to cycle
But soon it will be too dark
To bike after work

RC 7-10-16

Work woes and wallys

I’m pretty sure that anyone who is a manager will sympathise with this, but I really think that if my superiors just left me and my team to get on with it, our garage would run perfectly well, thank you very much. The trouble with our company is that there’s an entire level of rushed-in graduate management that has nothing to do with its time but find ways to justify its wages. (Hence the ridiculous yes-you-are, no-you’re-not, you-will-be-at-some-point farce about staying open overnight.) 
The latest ill-thought-through Idea From Above is to do with Hallowe’en. They’ve decided to force us to have a whole section of the booth devoted to costumes, merchandise, paraphernalia and sweets associated with October 31st. Plus to ‘cash in on the rolling Public Holiday market’ they want us to have a section of Christmas stuff up and running at the same time. They think people might actually come in and think “Oh my, with Hallowe’en approaching, Xmas must be just round the corner. While I’m here buying diesel and a Daily Mail I may as well stock up on candy canes and shitty chocolate liqueurs that I can hang on my dashboard Christmas tree.”
Head Office can quote facts and figures and trends and studies that show this would be financially worthwhile, but what they can’t show me is A WAY TO MAKE THE BOOTH BIG ENOUGH TO FIT ALL THIS SHIT IN, WHILE ALSO HAVING ROOM FOR THE BREAD AND MILK AND NEWSPAPERS AND SUNDRIES THAT WE STOCK EVERYDAY, AT EXORBITANTLY HIGHER PRICES THAN IN THE SUPERMARKET ACROSS THE CAR PARK.”
Anyway, I shan’t go on……

RC 6-10-16

Too many 'by the way's

I have a cold. Don’t know if it’s a result of falling asleep outside the other night, but I can’t imagine that helped. I actually think I may have got it from one of the many middle-aged women-with-children who sneezed at me in the garage at the end of last week. Why do so many people find it impossible to put their hand in front of their faces before sneezing? And why do so many of them feel the need to say something afterwards like “there’s so many bugs around now the kids are back at school.” My life would be so much easier without customers. 
I may also have picked something up during the crowded Ryder Cup-a-thon at Ted and Beryls I suppose, although I think the gestation period for a cold is longer than 48 hours. I checked in with Ted today, by the way. He was still moaning about the result and refusing to buy anything American. 
Don’t feel too sorry for me, by the way. It’s really nothing more than a mild, annoying sniffle. 

RC 5-10-16

Stars and Stripes and stars and stars

Monday is a terrible day to have a hangover.
I blame The Ryder Cup.
Ted and Beryl threw a huge party yesterday and let all their family and friends come round ‘to enjoy and celebrate another glorious win.’ That was the theory, anyway. But for some reason they had failed to consider the possibility that Europe might actually lose, and therefore failed to prepare for the onslaught of anti-American abuse from a rather drunk and disappointed Ted. Once he gets going he’s hard to rein in, and everyone runs for the hills rather than have to sit there and listen to him. Last night his house emptied quicker than a swimming pool that someone’s just shit in. 

The result didn’t bother me too much. I like watching some sports but I never invest my emotions in them, so my mental wellbeing for the next few days isn’t ever hanging on the outcome of a silly game. For me it was more about the drink than the golf, and I certainly wasn’t going to slow down just because Europe were ‘playing like a bunch of pansies.’ That was one of Ted’s more quotable mentionings of the evening. Here are a couple more, just to show you what we all had to put up with for about three hours:
“McIlroy needs shooting. No wonder that tennis player dumped him. If he uses his dick as badly as he uses his putter she must have been constantly wanting.”
“Arnold Palmer died last week, and he’s still playing better golf than Willett.”

When we got home I realised it was a beautiful, still, starry evening. It struck me that a good idea would be to spend ten minutes or so sitting in the back garden gazing up at the heavens. Philippa called me a drunken twat and went off to bed, leaving me to fight my way past my drumkit and the lawnmower to get a sun-lounger out from the back of the garage. I put it up (eventually), climbed into it, and lay back, wondering to myself why Ursa Major had three times as many stars as it normally does. I woke up two hours later, freezing cold and covered in dew, and with a headache and a stiff neck. Today has been, to say the least, a bit of a struggle. 
I’m going to have a quick, hot shower then crawl into bed.

RC 3-10-16

Best thing I've ever said

My spirits were lifted today by a confidence-boosting moment of self-appraisal.
I had the misfortune to be sitting in the canteen at lunchtime with one of the new ‘graduate fast-track management trainee specialists’ - a pumped-up, pompous pig of a woman called Rebecca. This was only an hour after I had finished my ‘attitude review’ meeting with three people from HR.  Our company policy is that all internal investigations are kept strictly and totally confidential, so obviously every other employee on site knew about the complaint against me. Rebecca looked down her nose at me and asked me how it went; betraying for not one second any real concern for my professional wellbeing, but showing a delivery-truck-sized portion of nosiness and gossip-gathering intent. I offered a reply that gave her as little information as possible, only for her to sneer and say “I’m surprised you didn’t make more of an effort to look good. I’d have thought you’d have wanted to make the best impression possible.”
I took a deep breath, resisted the urge to cave her face in with a pepper grinder, and said something along the lines of: “That’s because you’ve fallen into the stereotypical Western trap of equating looking smart with being smart. You’re conditioned to expect a scruffy person to have a scatty mind. But just because you’re better dressed than me, doesn’t mean you’re better suited to management. And just because I was too busy to pick up a razor this morning, doesn’t mean I’m unable to do my job. Being clean-shaven is not a sign of being clear-headed. While you spent an hour on your appearance this morning, I spent an hour inventing ways to increase our revenue. Don’t ever judge my abilities by my appearance.”
And I left.

The meeting went fine, by the way. No further action to be taken, and apologies for any upset it might have caused me.  

RC 30-9-16

Charitable/Uncharitable

I’ve used the word ‘maybe’ far too much in recent blog postings, so I’m hereby pledging to not type that word again, at least until the end of this month. If you spot it anywhere in my writings before 1st October I will give £100 to the charity of your choice. As long as it’s not Age Concern UK, as I’m sick of them stopping me in the street for donations every time I go to a city. I’m not giving them bastards a penny. 

RC 27-9-16

End in sight?

I’ve had lots of support over this ridiculous ‘investigation’ thing.  Mac - the Welshman who originally did my management training - called today and asked for the gory details. I said “I’m embarrassed to say nothing happened. She asked me my opinion on the new flavour of Doritos and completely misheard my reply.”
He sighed and said “God, that’s boring. I was hoping you might have punched her or called her a pissy old hag or something.”
I said “Believe me mate, I wish I had.”
Anyway, the HR department seem more perturbed than concerned, and it looks likely she’ll get a letter from Head Office and that will be that. But it’s likely to leave a sour taste in the mouth. I’ve done really well for this company since I’ve been here and the second some old harrigan calls me an arsehole they jump to attention and start assuming it’s true. 
Maybe, yet again, it’s time to think about making better use of myself and my degree.
(And maybe, yet again, I’ll look around for a few days and then realise I’m too lazy to step out of this comfort zone)

RC 26-9-16