Friday 30 December 2011

Olympic Year 2012

Photograph Quiz:
Photos no. 73:- Why, when and where were these people walking?
Hippy New Year Blog,
                                  Do you hate those round robins you get from your relatives at this time of year, Blog? Not only can’t they be arsed to make the effort to see you for twelve months at a time, but they can’t even be bothered to put pen to paper when they do trouble to get in touch. I never read them myself; put them straight in the waste bin. If the round robin contained anything of importance, the relative would have let me know at the time it happened. Do you read them Blog? When I retired fifteen years ago, because I knew money was going to be tight, I wrote the enclosed round robin for my relatives and used the firm’s photo copier to run off a couple of thousand. I send the same round robin to everyone every single year. If my relatives do read it, then twelve months later they will have forgotten its content and think they have received a fresh yearly missive from me. And if, like me they never bother to read the round robin I send them, they will think that they have received a fresh missive from me because they didn’t know what the previous year’s round robin contained. Is that clever Blog, or is that clever?? I said I photocopied a couple of thousand on my retirement at my firm’s expense. Well Blog, I only have to live another thirty nine years and I will have used them all up. I suppose I will then have to think how I will be able to afford to run off some more copies. A bit worrying if you think about it. It might make a difference to the number of bottles of wine I order that Christmas. I really should have photocopied five thousand when I had the chance.
                        Since you only became my dear friend in January, Blog, I feel it incumbent upon me to include you amongst my family and friends at this special time of the year. I therefore enclose a copy of this year’s round robin, as fresh as it was when it was first written fifteen years ago, I kid you not!
Dear all,
Knowing that you look so forward so much to hearing about the family members and our newly found exciting lifestyle, I thought I would pop a few notes down for your perusal. I know it is slightly later than usual, but now that the festive season is drawing to a close, Santa and his little helpers have departed for their eleven month’s vacation on the Costa del Santa and all those bright sparkling decorations have been consigned once more to the dusty loft, I thought it might be appropriate to let you know about the wonderful year that has just ended. And what a wonderful year it was.
Admittedly, it didn’t start on the best of notes. Ann’s broken arm took several weeks to heal after she had fallen off the ladder dismantling the Christmas tree which we have in the garden. I am glad to report that the tree was not damaged and still towers over the house in arboreal splendour. It was unfortunate however that Ann did grab the T.V. aerial as she fell off the roof, causing the aerial to snap off the chimney stack and smash one of the bedroom windows on the way down. The broken pieces of glass caused some nasty cuts on Ann’s legs, which did turn a trifle septic. I am glad to say that she was able to wash the blood away from the front path and sweep up the glass after she had refreshed herself with a cup of tea. It could have been much worse as the path could have been permanently stained. Luckily, with the use of some new crutches Ann was able to continue with her cleaning and cooking chores. It was a couple of weeks however, before she was fit enough to clamber back onto the roof to replace the broken aerial. Having to trail round to my other daughter’s house every time I wanted to watch the TV, did prove an inconvenience and quite tiresome at times, and I did say as much to Ann. I said that if she had been a little more diligent, I would not have been forced to use all that petrol just to watch the television set causing my carbon footprint to be unnecessarily large. She dared to suggest that I had always had big feet anyway. Luckily she said it while I was dosing off after a particularly heavy lunch so I was not one hundred per cent sure that she had said it, or it was the result of me was entering the first stage of the seven stages of unconsciousness. To avoid an uncertain confrontation, I decided to give her the benefit of any doubt.
     When Ann fell on the ice in February, she adapted quite quickly to the use of the wheel chair. By June she was up and about again. I do think she quite misses trying to get up the front steps in her wheel chair. During this trying time, she never complained about me insisting that I bring the milk in or collect the post from the front door mat. I did feel that I should take my share of such duties. She didn’t even comment adversely when I had to get out of my easy chair to tell the Jehovah Witnesses that she couldn’t come to the door just then because of her indisposition. They were generous in their understanding of my predicament and promised to come back once she was up and about again. It is nice to see people being kind.
    As you might have guessed, my younger daughter continues her lodging arrangements. She has designed some really thoughtful assault courses in her bedroom making it impossible to reach her bed without sustaining some serious form of physical personal damage. In July she achieved the ultimate when against all the odds, she managed to submerge the whole of her room under 3 feet e-bayed camouflage clothing (that is 97 cm if you are familiar with the metric system of measurement which was introduced by the Conservative government around about the year of 1971). At one point however about this time, we became quite concerned when her niece, on visiting my younger daughter in her bedroom, went missing for three days. The rescue services finally located her using a heat sensitive device after the search and rescue Alsatians had refused to go into my younger daughter’s bedroom as their handler had deemed it too dangerous for his dogs to enter such a potential unstable environment. The dogs themselves did bark that they regarded the task as a health and safety issue. The fire service and the mountain rescue people did thank me for allowing them to experience such an unusual rescue; it would have cost the ratepayers considerable expense to have done a mock-up of such a situation for a training exercise. The real thing is always better than simulation, they said.
    I am pleased to report that in October I attained my 67th birthday without too much fuss or bother. In fact I think the day passed very quietly without anyone noticing. I think the paucity of presents was a satisfying reflection on my lack of desire for materialistic possessions and was rather joyful that almost everyone I knew was able to restrain themselves from wasting their hard earned money on buying me gifts.
   I mentioned earlier about Ann’s total recovery by June and I think it only fair to report that she did a reasonable job of decorating all the downstairs’ rooms but I was slightly worried when she fell off the step ladders before she had quite finished painting the outside. After the episode with the ladder at Christmas, I did feel that I was most responsible in not pointing out to her that she should really have been aware of the inherent dangers involved in the use of such decorating aids. How ever, I must say that, unless you are looking very closely in the exact direction, you can hardly see up that the little bit that she missed by the front apex. On reflection, it would have been better if I had had the fore thought to advise her to have painted the front of the house first which meant that the unpainted part of the property would have been to the rear. As the sun shines strongly in the rear garden, it would have not been quite so irritating for me while I was sun bathing having to look up at the unpainted part.
     I can report that Ann was soon out of hospital and tackled the weeks of unwashed crockery, the piles of dirty clothes and the untidy state of the living room with little or no complaint. I did offer to help her to shift all the empty wine bottles to the car to enable her to take them down to the bottle bank, but she had quite completed the task before I had fully woken from my 11 o’clock mid-morning snooze. I do believe that it was the repeated clink of the bottles being moved that woke me. I was not resentful however and showed no displeasure at my early arousal.
    I did feel a little aggrieved on the next day, when she asked me none too politely, to move my sun bed so that she could mow the grass where I was sunbathing. I felt her attitude was reflected in the finished job because the edges of the lawn were not quite as straight as I would have liked. Certainly the standard of her weeding left a lot to be desired and was not up to the standard to which I have become accustomed.
I do feel that she is beginning to show her age a little; when the coalman dropped the bags of coal off at the bottom of the driveway, Ann was a great deal slower than usual when she shifted them. She was getting quite red in the face in the hot sun. She might have done a great deal better if she had left shifting the tonne of coal until the evening when it was a lot cooler. With hindsight I should have been far more assertive and insisted that she have a rest after moving all the rockery stones before she started on the coal bags.
            As you know, we had a very wet year which fortunately meant that Ann did not need to clean the car more often than is the case normally during the summer months. For this she was most grateful because bending is always difficult with a bad back, but as I said to her, the continual bending would act as a sort of lubricant to aid recovery. Because of the wet weather, Ann had to get up very early to check for flood damage. I must say that I did find the alarm going off at 6am most disturbing and I found that getting back to sleep again a bit difficult. On one occasion I did think that I did detect a murmur of discontent from her when the autumn digging of the garden was interrupted by having to relay the concrete slabs on the driveway which had become uneven in the sudden wet spell towards the end of August. Coincidentally, I do think the timing of that wet spell fully justified my decision to maintain the family tradition on not going on holiday. If we had gone away, Ann would only have worried about the state of the garden, missing the washing and cleaning and all her other jobs. I know she doesn’t like her routine being disturbed.
             I do think my younger daughter might have been a little more considerate. I am sure that having her mother washing her new car every day was completely over the top … asking her mother to do it every other day would have shown far more consideration. A daily vacuuming was also unnecessary as it sometime meant that my mid morning coffee arrived as late as 11.15 on some occasions. The hum from the vacuum tended to be quite irritating. I did not hold Ann totally responsible for this situation however. My younger daughter also showed her less considerate side when she purchased that sports car. She did not give any thought about how difficult it would be for me to get in and out of the car. I am sure that Ann finds sitting on the roof rack most uncomfortable, besides me worrying about her having to hold tight onto my kit bag, there being no room inside the car for it. Every journey is a worry in case she drops it and possibly damages my kit.
I think my young daughter showed a streak of envy when she continued to use her crutches far longer than necessary when she saw that I also had to use a set of sticks in September. I think she was most envious at the amount of attention I was receiving from concerned friends and relations .. I do now have to wonder if her injury was quite as serious as she made out at the time. I do hold her responsible for my discomfort following my bicycling accident however. She should have check the brakes with the person from whom the bike was purchased before asking me to pick the bike up.
             Replacing the carpet with chip board seems to have proved a boon to Ann; it does not seem to take her quite as long to sweep the boarding as it did to vacuum the carpet. The small reduction in our electrical supply usage has meant a slight saving in our quarterly electric utilities bill. I made it known to Ann that I was most pleased about this and am now considering other ways in which small savings can be made. I did suggest that using her tea bag three times instead of twice would be a small start. I am wondering if using the stream at the bottom of the garden to wash the clothes instead of using the washing machine might prove cost effective, because Ann thinks she will have to use a lot more soap powder to achieve the same fresh, clean clothing. She thinks the slurry tank leakage into the stream from the farm further up the Lane might be detrimental. I said that I didn’t think it would be too much of a problem if she checked the colour of the water a few hours before she intended to do a load of washing
              The bird feeders we have got are proving a little trying. I do feel that I should not have to keep on reminding Ann when the feeders are getting low. It is just not fair when the birds are so dependant on them in the cold weather. Ann would not feel the cold each time she fills the feeders if she wore more clothes to keep a little warmer. At this time of year, following the Christmas clear out, there are many bargains to be picked up at the charity shops. And with so much stock, I have told Ann that the shops would probably accept a little less than their asking price. She might even find a few summer clothes at a greatly reduced price, but I have told her that she should think most carefully before spending too much as the weather might be cool again and buying summer clothing in such circumstance this time last year would have proved a false economy. I think she seems to have accepted the reasonableness of my argument but just in case, I shall restrict the amount of unaccounted money she has access to. I shall not demand a fully detailed account of how much she has spent on what items, instead I have told her I will be happy with her giving me a handwritten list rather than the computer printout to which I have become accustomed. Using a pencilled list will, pleasingly, also result in a further small saving in our electrical utilities bill.
             I will of course be in touch next year about this time with further news of the hectic life style we live. May I convey good wishes from my wife .. she would have done it herself but I assured her that if she concentrated on my next cup of coffee, you would understand.
                                                        The Kirkham Household                                                                                                        

Having got soggy feet this morning on my trudge in the mud, I hope my trainers have dried for the New Year Five on January 2nd, organised by Coventry Godiva Harriers otherwise I shall offer to help the race organisers.
                            Colin  

Wednesday 28 December 2011

Feet in the Clouds

Photograph Quiz:



Photos no. 69, 70, 71 and 72 …. Well it is Christmas Blog.
I was fortunate to see this unusual cloud formation as I travelled up to Yorkshire last week ….. as I went over the moors towards Haworth …. It was there in the sky. AMAZING. Was I on cloud nine or was I on cloud nine? Did you see the fuss it caused on the national t.v. channels, Blog, with all those spurious explanations about inversion levels? The clouds looked the right way up to me from where I was standing. It is the same formation you see on hard packed windblown sand, and you don’t not get no inversion level there? Any way, it was most impressive. Never seen anything like it before except on hard packed windblown sand. No wonder the ancients would think something mystical was occurring. Even today, in the age of enlightenment, you see something like this in Yorkshire and what happens, I hear you ask Blog. I’ll tell you what happens when you see something like this happen in Yorkshire …. everyone sits round a chopped down fir tree in their living rooms and get sizzled. Slard ti belief intit Blog???? Yud not foool pimple lick that nowsa daysie. Pimple int dift are they, blig???
On boxing day, I went over to Kenilworth to see the annual cyclo cross race. When I got to the Kenilworth Common, the weather was so pleasant, I couldn’t resist going for a trudge instead of watching a load of bikes being wrecked by people who couldn’t stay in the saddle. Thinking I’d get back before the end of the cycle race I mentally mapped out a 6 mile trudge along the cycle way, across the fields and back to where I had dumped my car in time to slip on a few extra clothes so as not to get a chill. Can’t be too careful at my age, Blog. Like Mr Blobby, Bloggie, I trudge along the new Sustrans cycle way to the cyclo cross course in all my extra kit. The race lasts an hour; after 60 minutes the result of the race is determined by the position held by the riders at that point. Now the best laid plans of mice and men …. I planned to get back to the finish area in good time which would have happened in every year since I can remember. Unfortunately, some wise guy official decided that this year the race would only last for 45 minutes and the said official forgot to tell me!!!!! Ta mate, I am on the telephone, you know. So I arrive in plenty of time to see the finish but I didn’t arrive in plenty of time to see the finish. Ta mate, the postman passes my front door most days, you know. Well I briefly saw my grandchildren there, so that was OK.
 I do find it hard to equate honest endeavour of honest athletes who rely on their own honest training with those athletic types who have assistance. Cyclo cross for example. A few quids and you can buy a better bike than the bloke next to you on the start line. A better machine must make a difference. If it doesn’t, how come the motor racing sport is just a procession, year in year out since Adam was first turned on by his ignition. Mike Buttons was great this year in that machine but was hopeless last year in that other machine. Manchester City have a few quids to buy the odd player or two and what happens? Need I go on? If I could afford to live and train at altitude I should be better at trudging than I am now, surely? If I could afford to buy one of those special altitude tents to sleep in, I should be better at trudging than I am now, surely? Any spare quids for me Blog, so I can investigate whether my proposition is valid or not??? ‘Give blood’ certainly does make a difference, especially when you make a withdrawal from the Bank at a time convenient to yourself.
After lunch today, watching my wife slice the small piece of Christmas cake I allowed her to have, I was reminded of a relation.(Cannot remember which one, possibly granddad) Alongside his Christmas cake which he used to slice thinly, he had a lump of cheese which he also used to slice thinly. He would then proceed to eat a slice of each together. I asked my wife if she knew of the practice. She mumbled something about strange things happening up north. When she goes into one of her moods there is no getting any sense out of her … she can say good bye to tomorrow’s slice of Christmas cake, cheese or no cheese, I’ll tell you that now, Blog. No pleasing some people; I am glad I ate the marzipan and icing myself now, before I gave her the slice of cake. I suppose I must blame myself for marrying a foreigner, marrying outside the faith. I have to admit that I was told. I was warned what it would be like. ‘A good Yorkshire lass’, is what my granddaddy told me. ‘You can love a rich one just as easy as a poor one’ he added. So I blew it on both accounts, Blog.
As I was showering after my morning blowout, I listened to a scientific investigation on the morning radio about the Yeti. Radio Four. Now I am sorry Blog, but there was no way that the investigation was serious. I reckon it was written by Alan Partridge. The Radio Times asserted it was a genuine programme and the newspaper critic dismissed any claim that it was not a piece of serious journalism as phooey. I reckon the journalist was in on the joke. Pull the other one Blog. Am I not the only one in the entire country who recognises an Alan Partridge when I see one, whether it’s in a pear tree or not? Come clean BBC. Tell the nation how intelligent I am, being the only one to crack the code. Yeti today, enigma tomorrow and Da Vinci the day after. Is there no end to my hindsight?
Now the sad news Blog. I ainta gonna trudge in the London marathon this year. I was 4 minutes too slow last year to gain a guaranteed entry. Unless my mate Dave Bradford fiddles me a wild card entry  …………………………………………………HHHHHHHHHHHHeeeeeeeeellllllp.
                                             Colin

Sunday 25 December 2011

A Christmas story

HO, HO, HO. Full to bustin Blog?
   Christmas Day so it must be THE Day of the Christmas Day Run in Warwick!
Interesting how circumstances force changes to races. This year’s event was four laps on the park tarmac paths around St. Nicholas Park giving a distance of around 3.75 miles. One of the lady organisers who stepped in at the last minute to help get the race on the road (of the ground?) was fretting about the lack of slick organisation. To my mind, if a group of officials from Leamington AC take the trouble to get out of bed on Christmas Day to promote a race for 50 plus runners, then they are to be congratulated. It is always the club stalwarts who step into the breach. Roll up their sleeves, get on and do the job. As in this case. The important officials save themselves for important events …. NO comment, please Blog.
So it’s Christmas Day it must be THE Day of the Christmas Day Run in Warwick. The pub which acted as race HQ opened solely for the purpose of providing runners and officials with a base before and after the event. The landlord of the Millwright Arms, in Warwick, has to be thanked wholeheartedly as he won’t have made a fortune big enough to retire on from a bunch of tight fisted athletes on Christmas Day! The run was four laps of the park … my prerace tactics were to avoid being lapped which changed after 1½ laps to avoid being lapped more than once when Leeds AC international James Walsh came screaming past. My revised tactic, I am glad to report, was most successful … JUST!!! I remember James as an under 11 running in the Rowheath AC’s  Easter Bunny Race, just beating one of my daughters in the run in! I remember one of the club officials I knew, telling me how good James was going to be. A ten year old?? Give over matey. A little lad like that. No chance!!! So was I right or was I right, Blog?? Is the Pope Jewish, Blog??? I am also glad to report that I did beat my wife, despite having a bad knee which makes even walking painful. At times the leg has to be rested. She really should get it seen to. A nice touch was that after the race everyone put their race number in a hat. The numbers were drawn at the presentation, in the bar, for spot prizes. So you want to know what I won, Blog. What do I always win, Blog? It was big and round with a hole in the middle and occurs in the number system immediately before the first digit! But my wife won a prize!!! That is so unfair Blog. SO UNFAIR. I beat her fair and square and I win nowt, with a capital ‘N’. Is there no justice in this world? I must say however that my wife and I are now talking to each other again. She said I could share with the prize with her, which I thought was very generous of me, allowing her to keep half of the prize when I had beaten her by such a wide margin.
I don’t know if you are interested in my magnum opus, Blog, but the history of the race I find fascinating. For a detailed account you must refer to my historical work on ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and other athletic clubs around the city’; here is a synopsis. Potted version. Very potted. In exactly 200 words. Go on Blog, count them  …. Would I lie to you? In 1908, Coventry Godiva Harriers were in serious financial difficulties. [For a detailed account you must refer to my historical work on ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and other athletic clubs around the city’] They were bailed out by Bettman, the Triumph motor bike and motor car manufacturer, who donated cash and a silver cup, named after his wife, Annie, which was competed for annually … the silver cup, not his wife. [For a detailed account you must refer to my historical work on ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and other athletic clubs around the city’] The competition was only for paid up club members and was awarded after a series of races during the winter. [For a detailed account you must refer to my historical work on ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and other athletic clubs around the city’] The format has changed over the years. [For a detailed account you must refer to my historical work on ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and other athletic clubs around the city’] One handicap race was held on Christmas Day. [For a detailed account you must refer to my historical work on ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and other athletic clubs around the city’] In the 60s, the race on the 25th December was dropped. [For a detailed account you must refer to my historical work on ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and other athletic clubs around the city’] One old member thought this a shame and organised a fun event for any club or fun runner from the Emscote Tavern in Warwick over one lap of Leamington and Warwick. [For a detailed account you must refer to my historical work on ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and other athletic clubs around the city’] Initially it was pub regulars versus athletes! [For a detailed account you must refer to my historical work on ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and other athletic clubs around the city’] The same course was kept when the race moved to a nearby pub after the Emscote Tavern was demolished to make way for a Tesco store. Heard that ever before Blog? Has a familiar ring to it?? [For a detailed account you must refer to my historical work on ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and other athletic clubs around the city’]  Last year’s appalling weather meant a shift to the St. Nicholas Park for safety reasons, retained this year because the entrance to the said supermarket was proving to be too dangerous for the runners. [For a detailed account you must refer to my historical work on ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and other athletic clubs around the city’]
                                                      Colin
PS I am not going to tell you Blog, how I got on … if you are desperate to know, go to the Leamington AC and CC web site.
PPS Now that is interesting Blog, that Leamington still retain the ‘CC’ in their club title following the 1952 events which Godiva had to deal with …. [For a detailed account you must refer to my historical work on ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and other athletic clubs around the city’]

Saturday 24 December 2011

Santa Claus is coming

Greeeeeeeetings Blog.
Two days before Christmas, I attended the nicest funeral. I was in God’s own country. Prior to the service at the crematorium, it was feared that there would be a family confrontation which would have spoiled the memory of the deceased. Fortunately, common sense prevailed. The service and commitment were moving. The humanist service was conducted by David Jennings who coincidentally attended university at the same time as me and became a member of the same running club, Bingley Harriers. He told me after the service when we had a chat, that he had an English Schools Cross Country programmes from 1963 in which both of us were entered, him for Gloucestershire, and me for Yorkshire. Interesting Blog. In fact I did not run. I was entered but did not run. I must have been entered as a reserve for the county team. I never made the team for either the school’s track or the school’s cross country championships. It was in the season that I started running. It was also the season of the BIG FREEZE. And I do mean BIG, with a capital ‘B’. I must have told you before Blog, the I went out for a run on Boxing Day as it was starting to snow. There was a strong wind. Two miles into the run climbing up into the hills the snow drifts were becoming so deep that it was becoming dangerous to continue in the worsening conditions. I rarely quit a training session. I quit this training session. I turned back. 26th December … and the next time I saw grass and was able to run over the same said grass was at the National Cross Country Championships at Cambridge in March. Twere a bugger ova winter. Anyway, back to the school’s event. The Yorkshire Schools Championships were held at a Mexborough School in South Yorkshire. Laps around the flat school fields which had steep terraces between the football pitches. I did not own a pair of spikes in those days; I have told you before Blog that my family were not quite as well off as the Windsor family. I ran in pumps with rubber treds that I had glued on myself. Of course there was no grip in the solid ice conditions under foot. Weeks of sub-zero temperatures had turned the school fields into a skating rink, made worse by the school pupils tramping over the hard impacted snow. Trying to run up the slopes was impossible and I fell, literally at times, further and further behind the leaders to finish about 9th and so outside the selected team. I cried myself to sleep at night for weeks, such was my devastation. To make matters worse, a fellow sixth former from my school did qualify for the county team and thereby receive all the plaudits in assembly in the week that followed the county race and the week after the National Championships. I was not a happy bunny rabbit, not happy at all. I did not make the same mistake again about footwear. A hard lesson learned. So my school athletic career in athletics ended before it began!!!!
Whilst in Yorkshire, I trudged around the darkened streets to inspect the Christmas decorations. Many and more and superior to the Coventry citizens attempts at festive display. I am not kidding you Blog, that I saw one large outdoor tree which was festooned with more lights than Coventry city council used in the whole of the city precinct. The effect was enhanced because the conifer was growing on the edge of Cowling reservoir, the display being reflected in the darkened waters. Oh and did I tell you last week about the HGV getting stuck in one of the very narrow country lanes. Of course I did!!!
Despite the rain recently, the moors are still unseasonably dry, very runnable. They were also very trudgeable. I stayed in the luxury of a ‘megapod’ which over looked the aerodrome on the moors above Oxenhope. The windsock was horizontal for the days I stayed! I was horizontal when I went out for a trudge, the wind was so strong.
 On Christmas eve, I travelled south down the M1 motorway. My young granddaughter was in the car with me, so was her aunt, my daughter. She, my granddaughter not her aunt, was watching Santa’s progress around the world on an I thingie. He had just left Papua New Guinea and was on his way to Japan, when I noticed two santas on two motor bikes bearing down on us. I had noticed them at the last service station as we had passed. PROBLEM. MEGABIG PROBLEM. How to explain TWO santas to a young child?? How do you explain TWO santas on motorbikes on the M1 to a young child when he was supposed to be in his sled being pulled by reindeer about to land in Japan?? She would be confused. She would be heart broken. So would be my small granddaughter. As we approached the slip road for Chesterfield, the two santas  were just behind me but signalled to go off. SAVED??? As they went off up the slip road, both took the hand off the handle bar of their respective machines, waved and stuck their leg out behind them. They made her day. What a Christmas present. She was ecstatic with excitement, waving and screaming, becoming apoplectic when the santas waved back. My granddaughter wasn’t too interested though.
                                Happy Christmas Blog.

Wednesday 21 December 2011

av a laf Blog.

Photograph Quiz:
Photo no. 69:- Searching through a pile of old stuff this weekend I found this certificate. Now Blog, for what event was it awarded?
Blog …. So I found the above certificate. Surprisingly this was not my first competition. That was at my dad’s works sports when I was about seven years old. The significant part of the proceedings that I remember are 1:- the lanes in the sprint races were separated by a long length of string supported by stakes … of course I later learned that that was the way actual races were set up! The second memory was watching the slow bicycle race. This was really upsetting. Really. I am not joking Blog. Why you ask? Well firstly all these kids of my age actually could afford to have bikes. And the bikes were all new and shiny.
Now Blog, I would hate you to think that I was not one to enter into the festive spirit, so here I go  …. You’ve got to laugh, haven’t you? HAVEN’T YOU????????
So
       Sudoku ….. the sprint





















1






























































       Sudoku ….. the marathon

2




1














1














1


















1














1





1







And now a crossword for you to try on Boxing Day
                                            B*G***
Six questions to pass the party time …..
1.      When you’ve had too much to drink on Christmas Eve, what do you hear ringing in your ears?  B****
2.      What jingle do you hear on Christmas Day when Father Christmas is delivering his presents?
3.      On Christmas morning a peel of *e*** is not uncommon?
4.      Complete the saying ‘Hell’s    *   *   *   *   *’
5.      The name of a well-known whisky. ‘Whisky **l***’
6.      When the brandy sauce on the Christmas pudding catches fire and the conflagration spreads to the Christmas decorations and then to the Christmas tree before the curtains and the furniture are consumed, what sound do you hear as the fire engines get closer and closer?
Answers
1.      Bells of course. Obviously, Bells.
2.      The sound of tills ringing in the supermarkets.
3.      Peel of LEMON .. as in what you put in the Christmas cake.
4.      ‘Hell is it Christmas Day already?’
5.      Whisky Galore
6.      You hear the sound of ‘I told you to not put so much bloody brandy on the Christmas pudding.’
If you score more than two correct answers Blog, you badly need to get a life!!
                         Colin