Dalek, The Bath Inn, Sneinton, Nottingham
I know that Sunday is, theoretically, the start of the week, and that Monday morning is not the beginning, but deep down I have never believed this. Traditionally, even when I as a small boy, Sunday often seemed the pinnacle of the week, as if we’d spent all week building up to it, and Sunday night seemed like the edge of a depressing precipice as i teetered on the edge of what seemed like the horror of a headlong descent into Monday morning.
Part of this was caused by going to a village school that was in the grip of a bullying sexual deviant. I can say this, because he eventually ended up in jail for some of his activities, so it isn’t defamatory, or exaggerated. I was once shaken violently and thrown to the floor for making a mistake whilst reciting my tables. I can’t say that it left any lasting scars, but at the time it used to make Sunday night a time of special torment.
So, as I sit here pottering away at the laptop, I am reflecting on the end of another week, and looking forward to the next one. The next one, I always think, will be better. Experience dictates that it will be much the same. That’s the tragedy of life, as I am starting to see it. I don’t mind that I wasted my life, or even that I find myself dwelling on it so much, I just regret that having wasted part of my life I didn’t learn from it and do better in the next part. In the end I just lurched, well, oozed really (lurching is too active a word and indicates some sense of direction) from one disappointment to another.
Ah well, it’s time to add the title, tags and photos and then pack Julia’s sandwiches for tomorrow. Then bed. Time to pack away the past and face the false dawn of future optimism.
They say you are more likely to die on your way to buy a lottery ticket than you are to win the top prize. I do hope this isn’t true, as all I do to buy a ticket is walk from the living room to the dining room, where I tap away at my computer, squander several pounds and then spend several days or hours hoping that I have won, and planning the spending that will follow my win.
You can tell how my life has moved on over the years. I used to want a Ford Mustang, a property overseas and a life of adventure. Now I want a practical electric car, a reclining armchair and a housekeeper. That is a true measure of how I have declined.
However, a corner of my mind still burns with ambition. And that is where I take my title from.
Tardis and Dr Who themed wheelie bin, The Bath Inn, Sneinton, Nottingham
Photos are from Julia. While we were running the Quercus project she worked at the Sneinton Leisure Centre to keep groceries on the table. It is just across the way from The Bath Inn, a handsome old pub. It is now even more handsome, having had a change of landlord who, with a magnificent display of flower baskets, is attempting to make it into The Hanging Gardens of Sneinton. He is called Piers Baker, and the reason for the Doctor Who murals is that he is the son of Tom Baker, one (in my opinion) of the better Doctors.
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Is there actually a bath related to the inn?
It is across the road from Sneinton Leisure Centre and swimming pool, which used to be a bath house and have Turkish Baths, so I assume it is connected to that. The pub has a number of Egyptian design motifs on the outside and is a fascinating place.
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:The_Bath_Inn,_Nottingham#/media/File:The_Bath_Inn,_Nottingham_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1518705.jpg/2
You will soon find that it doesn’t matter what day it is. During Tom Baker’s time kids used to call Dr Who out to me
Yes on both counts. It won’t matter at all once Julia finishes work, as long as we get there for doctors and coin clubs. 🙂
I can see the resemblance. I start getting “Santa” at the end of November every year.
I’d love to write something brilliant but I won’t have time – I have to duck down town to buy a lottery ticket. You have inspired me. If I win I’ll let you know and you can be pleased for me.
Yes, I will definitely congratulate you. Both on your win and on avoiding death on the way. Sincerity may be a little harder . . .
The Daleks are my favorite motorized salt and pepper shakers. So The Bath Inn’s owner is the son of Tom Baker? I only saw the series up through Colin Baker, I think he was Doctor #6. I would have a hard time picking a favorite Doctor. They were all so different!
My favorite Doctors are generally the earlier ones. Apart from Pertwee. Not enough space travel. A lot of this, to be fair, is to do with my age rather than the quality of Doctor.
Oh gosh, I’m so with you on this – I 100% believe that Sunday is a day of rest at the END of the week – Monday is 100% the start of the work week, so the start of the week. I tend to choose my calendars to make sure that they are labelled Mon-Sun I am so adamant about this, and go mad when the weekend is split across the page!! Thanks for the confirmation! Linda xx
(PS I still walk to get my lottery ticket – and have neither won nor died!)
When I first read that statistic I was still buying them from shops, and did start to wonder if I should risk it. Then you realise you will never win and it all feels a lot safer. 🙂