Tag Archives: new tyre

Punctures, Poetry and Police Procedurals

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Sorry, after the events of the day, which included quite a lot of activity in the shop, I went home, had a puncture, called Green Flag to change the wheel (after the debacle of a few years ago) and embarked on my usual routine of wasting time. I was napping by midnight, when I should have been blogging and am, as usual, slightly ashamed of myself. However, I will get over it. In fact, I have. When I checked my emails this morning I find I have had two poems accepted by the Frogmore Papers.

Contrast this with yesterday. Yesterday I told you about a magazine that said it would “aim to” get back to me in three months. The Frogmore Papers got back to me in fourteen days. They have been about for a while and get plenty of submissions (“over 350” this time, according to the note) so it must be hard work. I’m going to modify my words of yesterday slightly – I’m not developing an artistic temperament, I’m developing a loyalty to people who work hard and make things easy for me.

Later this morning I’m off for a new tyre – by the time I’d got off the ring road to a quiet place to change a tyre it was beyond repair. It didn’t have a lot of life left in it, so this isn’t too bad, not like the time I ruined a brand new tyre by having to run with it flat for half a mile until I could get off a busy main road.

In fact, by the magic of modern technology, I have been to have my tyre replaced, sitting outside in the sun reading a crime novel and keeping my social distance. I’m back on tartan noir. You can’t escape it these days. The books are OK, but it’s a silly name. Two languages and black tartan? Really?

Time to make lunch now, then I may try a spot of poetry and some literary criticism. Or quizzes and a nap. The course of the afternoon has not yet been decided.

Gannets

I thought I’d give you Gannets today – from Bempton Cliffs in May 2017, when the weather was better, and we were allowed to travel.

It also ties in with the tartan noir, as they have quite a lot of Gannets in Scotland, as Tootlepedal’s holidays over the years have demonstrated.

A Postscript and a Day of Disappointment

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I’m in the doghouse after yesterday’s post. Julia is not happy with me for revealing details of my abysmal standards of nasal etiquette – “letting the whole world know you’re full of unpleasant habits” as she put it.

This is a complete over-reaction because I have, at best, let a couple of dozen people know. And by the law of averages there are probably one or two who aren’t averse to a spot of clandestine nasal probing. It’s also likely, after reading several posts that those two dozen readers aren’t really under any illusions about my lack of social graces.

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Sutton on Sea

She’s definitely wrong about one thing though – I have plenty of room for new unpleasant habits.

I also have plenty of room in my wallet. The garage rang today – my deflating tyre is not merely unseated, the sidewall is damaged and I have to buy a new one. I haven’t had it that long, and was planning on it lasting a good while longer.

There is a small grey cloud hanging over my head as I write this.

We had a policeman call this morning. He was returning the flash drive we had let them have with CCTV footage of the robbery on. It was contained in three plastic bags – one for travel to the station and storage, one for travel back to the shop and one I’m not sure about. That’s a lot of plastic in a world which is generally trying to cut back.

They can, as we already knew, do nothing to catch the robbers. This isn’t CSI and the science does not quite work like it does on TV. And, to be honest, the police don’t work like they do on TV. Nobody, as far as I know, tried tracing the getaway car on traffic cameras, because robbery from a closed shop isn’t a priority.

A bit like filling in potholes in Lincolnshire.

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Dogs at Sutton on Sea

A Few Loose Ends

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We went to the garage this morning – Julia had a ride on the ramp and I watched as the car cost me another £65.

Julia bought breakfast at McDonalds – yes, I’m ashamed of myself – and I dropped her off at work before going to work myself.

We only had two questions to answer and three parcels to post so I’d finished by the time everryone else turned up.

We sold one of these today – less than 24 hours after putting it on. Judging from the poertraits it commemorates the marriage of a monkey to an unsuccessful professional pugilist.

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Royal Wedding medallion

Work went, as work does – a few customers, sorting some halfpennies, answering the phone, more things to put on eBay, then, as we were getting ready to go, two people bought things and we had two more parcels to do.

Back at home, I picked up my post, which informed me that I’d passed my blood test and have three weeks before the next one.

Eating tea and relaxing, I was distirbed by a text asking for a lift. Number Two son is on the way back from Manchester airport after returning from his German holiday.

And that, I think, is everything up to date.

Well, not quite. Just had a phone call to say No2 son is waiting in Sheffield after the Nottingham train was cancelled.

And while I think of it – I had an email from the farm (the venue for the original Quercus group). The ariel photo shows many changes, but the song remains the same. They have another community group running and are once again asking for cash. two years after getting rid of us they don’t seem much further forward. Maybe there will be a different outcome this time. Maybe…

I’ve blocked them from sending more emails.