I'm so sorry, So so sorry, I'm sorry I led you astray, tiddly bum bum, tiddly bum ...

Dear Blog,

          Sorry, sorry, sorry!!! I am big enough to admit that occasionally, very occasionally I make a mistake. It has been known to happen but I must admit that I cannot recall when. So. Yesterday, I sent you a picture in the Photograph Quiz of the wrong pub – clearly a case of one too many??? No wonder you could not answer the question!!!! The pub picture I sent you was at number 152, the one I should have sent is at number 4 on the city side of the railway bridge you can see in the photograph …. Now to untangle. All the questions still apply except that there is a now a DOUBLE connection to Godiva. A clue for you Blog => mid 1920s and early 1970s, think publican, think runner, think Godiva Harrier!!!! And there is still that ‘snickers’ to play for remember!!

                                                     Colin 
   
P.S. And who was Mrs. So Sorry?????? 

Colin can you hepl? Yes I can, yes I can.

Photograph Quiz:

Photo no. 145:- Read the caption Blog. What is the connection to Godiva?

What is the connection to this pub on the left? And amazingly, what is the connection to the Olympic Games Marathon.? 

And if you get that lot correct Blog, I will reward you with a Snickers Bar!!!!!

    

Well Blog, This morning refreshed by the old morning trudge around the block and with the threat of rather bad weather during the course of the day making the Estate administrative chores like weeding, weeding and cutting the grass a pleasure to be avoided even more, I settled down to a day of structuring the way I will set up display for the National Heritage Weekend in the Godiva clubhouse, featuring ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and Other Clubs in the City during the last 140 years’. This is hard to believe, b ut would I lie to you Blog? I posted my last little message to you less than 72 hours ago  …. Now I don’t know who you know Blog, but I am impressed with a capital ‘I’. During the time between my licking the stamp on the letter to you the day before yesterday and my coffee break at 9:30 am this morning, I had enquiries about two ‘Godiva Athletes’ of yesteryear and three scrap books of Godiva members who I had not seen for years and years!!!! Co-incidence? Pre-ordination? Chance? The work of the Devil? Or you Blog, you little tease?

     One of the enquiries was most interesting, I must confess. Yes I had information about the father …. probably about the grandfather which was a surprise to the enquirer that his grandfather ran. Then about his great grandfather who also ran for Godiva and about whom he knew completely nothing. Zilch!!! Reminds me of a similar scenario about a decade ago when I was able to reveal a new uncle, a grandfather, and the exploits of the father as a starter and as a renown cyclist of considerable standing; all of which came as a complete surprise to that enquirer. Makes getting up for an early morning trudge that more worthwhile, methinks.

                                                     Colin

National Heritage Weekend, September 2013

Dear Blog,

               I wrote to you some time ago mentioning that about a decade ago, I put on a display for the Godiva Festival. The Festival takes the form of a very impressive parade through the streets of Coventry (worth visiting Blog) which terminates in the Coventry War Memorial Park where there is a Fun Fair and a free two day music event with two or three different stages. Also included are several tents, one dealing with comedy, one for children and also a ‘History Tent’ for any organisation with an historical perspective to exhibit. I put on a display about the ‘History of Coventry Godiva Harriers’ since it’s foundation in 1879. I won first prize as Best Display!!

              I wanted to repeat the exercise this year, but expand to include other Clubs in the City and change the focus onto the root causes as to why Godiva survived when many other clubs around the country foundered. As I required a large amount of space because of the way I wanted to do the presentation, it was not convenient to take part. I refocused onto the National Heritage Weekend in September and now hope to stage a display in the Coventry Godiva Clubhouse on the Warwick University Campus …. So come along Blog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 .........

             If an athlete is found guilty of a drugs offence, he / she is banned for a time period with the very real fears that when the athlete has served the time ban and returns to competition, there is still a residual effect remaining in the body which will continue to give a competitive advantage. The person / coach supplying the offending substance really is named and similarly is very really banned or taken to a court of law for breaking the rules of the sport. Now think Blog. We are having an on-going investigation into the Godolphin Stables of horse racing where many horses have tested positive for a banned drug. It is the trainer who supplied the drugs to the horses who is banned leaving the horses free to carry on with the possibility that there is still a residual effect remaining in the body which will continue give a competitive advantage to the guilty horses.  Ney, this can’t be right? Are four legs better than two, I ask?

                                                                              Colin



Midland Track and Field League at Telford, Saturday May 18th RESULTS

Dear Blog,

                Here are the league positions and club points scores of TOMORROW’S Midland Track League at Telford. There aren’t any!!!!!!!!!!!! And there won’t be!!!!!!! Yet again we have an event which has been cancelled!!!!! Very late notice, very, very late notice that the track hasn’t got a certificate from UKA so we cannot have a League Meeting there as there would be no insurance cover.

              Now besides the obvious consequences about points for clubs with promotion and demotion at stake in the League set up and the difficulty in re-scheduling a meeting in a very crowded calendar, we have an illustration about how the sport is operating at two levels. We have the established clubs promoting road, country and track events who operate under all the safety rules and regulations of the sport and on the other hand we have an increasing number of events put on and organised by commercial ventures who are driving a coach and horses through the regulations. Example:- not a million miles away from Coventry, not a million years ago, a race was held …. Where was the first aid??? What happened to cause a cock up in the timing??? Why did the recording of the position of the runners break down?? Why was no Event Licence displayed??? Why was there no redress for the competitors who paid many quids to participate?? If the Midland League Meeting had gone ahead at Telford, questions would have been asked of the clubs. Many questions. But the commercial races just carry on regardless with no concern about the possibility of sanctions. Not that the athletic authorities have either bothered to pursue this flagrant breach in our sport or troubled to impose any kind of penalty. Until a tragedy happens at one of these micky mouse events, the great and good who run our sport will continue to look the other way.

      So it seems that one part of the Olympic Legacy for the club runner seems to be to cancel events ….. four and counting. Sad.

                              Colin

P.S. Tomorrow, it is going to rain anyway, so it means we will not get wet. So there is a ray of bright sunshine afterall?

Joe O'Brien

Blog,

    At 6am this morning I nearly froze to death on my trudge. Frost. Freezing frost in nearly June. Frost Blog, I kid you not. And the noise from the poor swallows sat on the telegraph wires complaining about their package holiday which had promised sunshine and an abundance of insects. They have flown all this way and what do they get? Frost!

Hello. Hello. Hello Plod. Wot is this ‘ere then?

I woz proceeding along the path in the Park at 1:12pm this afternoon with a black sack on my back. Blog I kid you not.

You woz droppin litter.

Oh no I wasn’t.

Oh yes you woz.

I woz proceeding along the top path in the War Memorial Park in Coventry this afternoon at 1:26pm with a black plastic bag on my back, and every 50 yards (43 metres to you Blog) I took a large hand full of sawdust from my sack and placed it carefully on the ground.

There you just gon an done it agen. I saw you, plain as day. You dun dropped some more litter.

Officer, I am not dropping litter.

Yes you did, I dun just seen ya.

A further 50 yards (43 metres Blog), I took another large handful of saw dust from my sack and put it at the side of the path in the Coventry War Memorial Park. As it was just before the path turned left, I took a lump of plaster board from my pocket which I used as a chalk substitute and drew a set of large arrows on the tarmac path to indicate a left turn for the runners.

There you dun it agen and you are now graffettiing in a public place. I must warn you that is you go and do it agen I will caution you as to your rights with a view to an arrest if you continue to act in such a unsociable manner. Graffettiing is a serious offence you can Banksie on it.

Officer, I am not dropping litter and I am not graffettiing. I am trying to mark out the running course around the Park for the Police Cross Country Race which will start in about 45 minutes.

A likely story my lad. I feel it is my duty under section 42 of the Common Criminal Act 1937, part B, paragraph 4ii, sub section 37, page 14, that I must remove that black plastic bag from your back which appears to contain items of a suspisious nature.

Now look wot you gon and dun, you hav spilt all that sawdust on my nice clean uniform. I feel it is my duty under section 44 of the Common Criminal Act 1937, part B, paragraph 6iii, sub section 37, page 15 that I arrest you for damaging police property, namely, the uniform of a serving police officer who at the time of the offence was acting in the course of his duty. The police property was damage with a substance which could cause damage by fire if ignited.

Officer. It is saw dust. Have you ever tried setting fire to sawdust?

Now then lad, we’ll have less of this ‘ere cheek. You are in a serious position as to regards your liberty. Just watch your lip.

Officer it is now 30 minutes to the start of the race. If you arrest me, I will not get the course marked out in time for the start of the Police Race.

Wot is this you say. 30 minutes ‘til the afore mentioned race is about to start? Cor blimey. I had better get a shift on and get changed out of my police uniform and into my running kit. Don’t you think you have got away with this litter charge my lad; you may not have heard the last of this.

                                           Colin

 Thursday May 16^th. Annual Memorial Race in Memory of P.C. O’Brien who was killed while on duty supervising traffic at a Fun Run in Willenhall, Coventry. Joe O’Brien was a member of the Walking Section of Coventry Godiva harriers and a community police officer in Willenhall.

(I had been volunteered to help organise the race.)

The National Health Service is not sick.

Dear Blog,

              Funny couple of days …. Yesterday when I trudged the sky was clear and blue without a cloud in sight. And so quiet! Out for nearly an hour, I think I saw three cars. Mind you it was before six o’clock. My body clock is still locked into all those early morning runs either before work or to and from work. It was always the case that in summer, with light it was no problem to get up bright and early with the dickie birds; but in the dark, in winter it was always a struggle. The dickie birds were still fast asleep and they didn’t half take some shifting out of their nests … Back to yesterday => 6am a wonderful day to look forward too. Then fast forward the clock, twelve hours to 6pm. Freezing cold and blanket rain. To trudge or not to trudge, that was the question ….again!!! 

               Today ... a story. Would I lie to you Blog? Well today, I might have met someone I knew as a kid and who now might be a very, very important person in the Health Service. I don’t think there are too many people in a higher position than the very,very important person I met; I could be wrong, Blog. Let me embroider the story some more. A close relative of this very, very important person in the Health Service could be quite poorly, very poorly in fact (fiction?) Anyway, said person might have confided that in the past few weeks, much time and vast amounts of energy had been spent trying to arrange a care package; and much time and vast amounts of energy had been spent trying to get doctors to talk to each other about the poorly relative. Trying to sort the health care out might have proved to be very frustrating for the very important person. And, WAIT FOR IT, he might not have realised that the Health Service was like this at the point of delivery. Blog, do I kid you????  And the question has to be asked that if one person in a high place was so out of touch with a reality for which he might or might not have been responsible, how many others who operate the various delivery departments of government wear similar rose tinted spectacles? Makes you think. Might have made all that up though. Who knows?

                                Colin

Steeplechasing tips

At last Blog, the steeplechase story I promised you last week …. The reason I remembered is because a seminal work about the ‘History of the Steeplechase’ is about to hit the bookstalls. Remember Blog, you heard it first here!!!!  

   

        First the little tale I promised a few letters ago, then a comment or two about the history of the ‘chase. In case you are not aware Blog, the steeplechase on the track is a distance of 3000m (nearly two miles to you Colin) with several very solid barriers which have to be jumped during the course of the race. How an athlete gets over does not matter, although hurdling is the most efficient way. On each lap there is a water jump, usually on the top bend. To my story …. At the British Universities Championships in Cardiff a half century ago, I ran in the steeplechase for the Pink Panther University. If you look back at our correspondence Blog, you will recall that I sent you a cutting from the News of the World of me doing a steeplechase in the Championships of God’s Own County; can you recall?? Look it up to refresh you about my style! Anyways, back to Cardiff. In the steeplechase I have just told you that on each of the seven laps there is a water jump to negotiate. On most tracks, the jump is on the top bend and the approach apron is made of the same material as the track. But at Cardiff, the arrangements were different … very different. Amazingly different considering that at the time, the track in Cardiff was the Principality’s main Arena. To get to the water jump barrier, you had to jump up from the cinder track onto the grass infield which was considerably higher than the cinder track surface; then there was the approach to the jump which was a grass run up (luckily it was dry … refer to that News of the World photograph for the consequences when a grass approach is wet!!). The water pit was earth lined which got deeper, slipperier and muddier as the race progressed. Then after the jump, athletes had to continue on the grass infield and jump down off the apron back onto the track. As if this was not bad enough, two wooden boxes on the side of the track on the jump run up and two wooden boxes on the side of the track after the water jump had also to be negotiated. The boxes were coverings for the water hydrants used to water the cinder track when it got too hard in dry weather. The whole thing was a farce!! Steeplechasers were regarded as second class track athletes by many athletes and officials anyway. But to have a major Championship with such poor facilities was really taking the Pee big time. Running in a group, the inevitable happened. On the third or fourth lap the boxes were hidden from my view by the pack of runners and I clouted one at speed. Suffice to say that the A. and E. Department at Cardiff Hospital was rather a pleasant place to spend a Saturday afternoon. But my Pink Panther University colleagues were non-too happy having to wait around at the track for my return before we started the 300 odd mile trip back to the North East!!!!  As a postscript, I think that was probably my last but one steeplechase race as I had some time to reflect while recovering from my injury on whether my destiny really did lie with the ‘chase or not.

    Anyways, back to this book written by as athlete whose forte is statistics; I believe he has never raced a steeplechase. During his preparation and consultation period, I tried to persuade him that there should be several set of steeplechase records rather than the one set which is currently ratified by the IAAF (International Association of Athletics Federations). My argument went along the lines that different arrangements of barriers, approaches to the jump and positioning of the jump made nonsense of comparing all performances!!! He disagreed!!! Bear Blog, Bear with me…. Some track have the water jump outside the track on the top bend (e.g. Birchfield, Birmingham), some have the water jump on the inside of the track at the top bend(e.g. Leicester); both hold Championship races!. Each arrangement requires the barriers to be differently spaced necessitating on the track requiring a completely different distribution of energy in each circumstance from the athletes racing. To make matters worse, some tracks have been modified or newly built, with a tight turn off the track onto the apron, a sharp right angle, giving the athlete a straight run at the jump, therefore quicker, replacing the usual curved approach (e.g. Doha). And some have the steeplechase water jump slightly off the track straight not on the top bend, but at the top of the back straight, providing a far quicker and easier clearance (e.g. Oregon); often the home of the USA trails. I am not party to his manuscript, but from our last conversation, I do not think he addresses the situation in any great detail because his forte is statistics; I believe he has never raced a steeplechase. We shall see on publication day!!!

          Oh Colin, you can be such a bore at times………………………..

          Thanks Blog.

                                    Colin

P.S. Did you know Blog that the steeplechase was introduced into track programmes as a summer substitute for cross country running where, in years gone by, a cross country runner had to negotiate, ditched, hedges, fences and the like. Often the harriers did not run in summer as it was regarded as a winter sport. So to keep their interest in the summer months, various types of steeplechases were introduced into the handicap meetings. Also, the promoters found that the paying punters liked to see all the fun of the ‘chase with athletes taking a soaking at the water jump, or tripping and falling at the hurdles

… see my letter about when I ran a steeplechase in the Midland Track League at Rugby for my club about five years ago!!! Nothing changes. Spectators today still tend to congregate around the water jump area waiting and hoping for a mishap!! Often the best prizes were given at handicap meeting for hurdles races. One Godiva Harrier won a piano when winning a race in Liverpool at the turn of the century (1900). He bought it back to Coventry on the train with some degree of difficulty!!!! Blog, I kid you not!!

To Mod or to Rock, that is the question

Dear Blog,

       You wait all winter … nothing. Then along comes two twice!!!! Saturday saw the arrival of two swifts, the first of the summer; a whole colony nest in the few houses nearby my mansion. Then yesterday along come two, well three actually, swallows. Last year we had a nest in the eves so I wonder if any of these three are the youngsters from that nest; kept my younger daughter awake for weeks as they chose her window eve in which to build their muddy nest. Early twittering and tweeting did no amour her to the hobby of ornithology; taxidermy perhaps, ornithology no with a capital ‘N’.

     My note to you about the BUSF steeplechase will have to wait until my next letter as I am having serious problems at the moment; problems of the mind; psychological problems; deep disturbed confused psychological problems. Blog, I kid you not. I do not know where my loyalties lie and I do not know how to resolve my dilemma. Can you help perhaps???

    A bit of background first of all, to help you come up with a possible diagnosis followed by a probable cure or at least some remedial action which might provide me with a crumb of comfort. It was about fifty years ago today plus a week or so that I bought my ‘motor bike’. The use of inverted comas is intentional as I feel that they are an essential requirement because the ‘motor bike’ (inverted commas again note) was a Raleigh Runabout; basically a sewing machine with pedals which had to be employed whenever the ‘motor bike’ (commas again) had to negotiate a slope!!! I still have the shell of the bike propped against one of the garden sheds. Blog I kid you not!! Anyways. I used to have a Parka three quarter length jacket and fancied myself as something of a Mod fellow traveller. That is until one day I was returning home on said bike in the rain one evening after training down at Bingley Harriers. Approaching a T-junction at which I had to give right of way to the traffic on the main road, which I was approaching rather quickly, I squeezed my brakes. Both brakes. Squeezed them hard. Very hard. Now at this point I feel I must explain some of the technical wizardry of the Raleigh Runabout. It did have a 49cc engine I must admit. And it did have a brake attached to the rim of each of the two wheels. But the design team at the Raleigh factory in Nottingham, for reason best known to themselves, incorporated simple bicycle brakes to the Raleigh Runabout ‘motor bike’ with its 49cc engine. And in the rain, anyone who has ridden a bicycle knows that the efficiency of brakes on a bicycle leave a lot to be desired. And if you stick a 49cc engine onto the bicycle, those brakes in the rain leave an awful lot to be desired. So, in the rain in my Parka jacket playing the Mod, at night, approaching a junction rather too quickly at which the traffic law of the land obliged me to give way, the brakes were applied and not a lot happened. Now the brain is a funny part of the body. Encased as it is in a bony protective case, it is not too clever a staying in one piece when smashed into by a lorry or car travelling fast. And remember dear Blog, helmets were not worn in those far off days, nay, I doubt if they had been invented. With the prospect of an oncoming headache of mega proportions, some kind on immediate counter measure was being called for. Straight on and I would probably be the cause of some local traffic inconvenience. Stopping had been ruled out by my brain and the designers at the Raleigh Bicycle factory in Nottingham and whoever was responsible for the downpour of rain. I had no option but to crash my ‘motor bike’. I did hit the parked car with all the force a 49cc engine could muster with brakes fully squeezed!!! But, I am glad to report that I didn’t die in the accident. But my beloved Mod jacket was ruined; and it afforded little protection to a slide along the tarmac even if the coefficient of friction had been reduced by the presence of lying water. So it was out with the Mods and on with the Rocker; A  Rocker I shall be. The leather jacket cost very little from the second hand shop. In reality it was an airman’s leather flying jacket. But leather is leather, and who argues with a tooled-up Rocker? And so I became a Rockering fellow traveller.

    Now the distance to the Pink Panther University from my home was in a three figures, with hills en route and a long stretch of straight road approaching Scotch Corner alongside Leeming Bar and Catterick camp into the wind. Always a windy stretch. Yes as a latterday Rocker I used to travel up and down at the beginning and end of term between Uni, as the modern palance has it, and home on my ‘motor bike’. Most of the way I had to peddle furiously as the 49ccs under my aching bum could not cope with God’s Own County’s country!!!!

   So a Mod then a Rocker. No problem. A Damascus moment long ago.

THEN …………..

  Trundling along on my trudge three weeks ago, a whole bunch of scooters past me by in Meriden on their way, no doubt, to some Scooter Rally. I drooled. Memories came flooding back. The old feelings. I was awoken from my reverie by a Scooterist who was off the back and had lost the bunch; which way did they go he enquired. I pointed and a little tear trickled down my cheek. Once a Mod, always a MOD.

 THEN …………..

  Trundling along on my trudge on Sunday morning in the sunshine, a whole bunch of big bikes roared past me in Corley on their way, no doubt, to some Big Bike Rally. I drooled. Memories came flooding back. The old feelings. I was awoken from my reverie by a Rocker who was off the back and had lost the bunch; which way did they go he enquired. I pointed and a little tear trickled down my cheek. Once a Rocker, always a Rocker.

That night I couldn’t sleep. Nor have I since …. You can see my problem can’t you Blog. Am I one of Them or one of Them? I am all mixed up inside with these feelings of conflict. I am cracking up……

HHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP.

                                                         Colin

This little piggie went to market

Dear Blog,

       A very quick note for you, I shall write again tonight …

      Now, although this is a serious note it should provide you with a little smile in Passing. I have said before that it is rather sad that once a ‘fact’ appears in the press, it becomes FACT with a capital ‘F’ no matter what. Corrections … retractions … further explainations … all a complete waste of time. For example, someone wrote in a publication about my acting ability citing two classical performances in particular. And so it is. Impossible to change; so my prowess in Shakespeare and my performance in a classic play about the Spanish occupation of the Americas are now just part of my extensive repertoire for you to research Blog!! Back to my quick note …and Blog I kid you not. The facts are there for you to check. Two weeks ago, a news item about pollution in one of the cities in China was corrected the following day with an apology about the incorrect facts. The item was even carried with the apology on Radio 4. So the record was put straight then? Oh no it wasn’t. Oh yes it was. Oh no it wasn’t. Because the same original ‘fact’ was carried in an article in the ‘Guardian’ on Saturday May 4^th. As part of a reasoned argument about food contamination and adulteration … I refer to the article on Page 3 by Jonathan Kaiman reporting from Beijing. I quote ‘….Chinese consumers eat four times as much meeat today as they did 20 years ago but pork sales collapsed in March after about 16,000 pig carcasses wre  dredged from a river in Shanghai, an incident authorities have yet to explain.’ Check it out Blog. Would I lie to you?

   O.K. Blog ‘16,000 pig carcasses were dredged from a river’ and the apology was ‘we apologise for the error in yesterday’s article, it should have read “16 sows and pigs were dredged from the river.”’  The big question now is whether there will be an apology in Tomorrow’s Guardian?????????????????????????? Or next Saturday’s????????????????

                        Colin

British University Sports Federation Athletic Championships 2013

Photograph Quiz:

Photo no. 150: This is the Unwin Cup. Which club does it belong to and why did it concern Godiva? What were the profound consequences for another Coventry Club of one of the train journeys to compete for the cup??

Dear Blog,

             Done it again this morning Blog! Not a bad fall mind you, more of a sliding tumble, if you know what I mean. That was the bad news. The good news is that, no sooner had I got through the servants side entrance and made myself a cup of very strong black coffee to help heal my damaged ego, than the telephone rang. Not mine, but the one in the servant’s quarters. Being mid-morning, most of the staff were out on the skive so I had to answer the telephone myself. It was ever such a nice man on the other end; well-spoken and well mannered. He asked me ever so politely if I was having a nice day and then enquired if I had an accident or an injury recently. Now I must confess that when I fell over I was out in the country on a quiet lane. I was not aware that there was anyone about in the immediate vicinity. Clearly the pleasant gentleman on the telephone must have been somewhere close and had witnessed my misfortune. I suspected that he must have felt guilty about not offering to help me when my fall occurred and was making the telephone call to not only see if I was not too shaken up but also to ease his own conscience. I told him he was a little tease and that he must have known that I had just had a nasty fall. Of course it was not a bad tumble but I thought I would prick his feelings of guilt so that next time he should witness someone toppling over, he would help at once and not wait an hour to make an enquiry as to the state of their wellbeing. He seemed sympathetic and asked if I thought it was my fault and I said certainly not. I blamed the Coventry City Council for not filling in the pot holes in the road. Well its fashionable to blame them isn’t it Blog? I didn’t like to confess that I had probably tripped myself up as he seemed so worried about the seriousness of the fall and the state of the road. It seemed churlish of me not to salve his pangs of guilt. He asked if the injury was likely to keep me off work and would I lose my wage? I said it certainly would incapacitate me somewhat and that I would probably be confined to a chair for some time. I will use any excuse to avoid Mrs. Kirkham extensive list of chores she gives me to do each day; but I didn’t tell him that. Why should I make public the little tensions in my marriage? He did seem lonely though and I felt that he was trying to keep me on the phone for a little bit of friendly comfort for himself. Bless. But, I had to get rid of him as my coffee was getting cold and I was getting quite chilled after my trudge. In the end I told him I was feeling rather faint from the blood gushing out of my wound. He started to panic and said was I insured and did I want a private ambulance to take me to a private clinic he could recommend. Bless. He did sound upset. I said to him that I thought that was very considerate of him to be so concerned. I thanked him for calling and he said he would ring me back when he felt I had had time to recover a little from my ordeal. My coffee was cold. I made myself another as there was still no sign of any of the servants. My wife was at the Bingo by the way Blog. Regular as clockwork she goes, every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday morning, Saturday afternoon and Sunday evening. Gets her out the mansion and the exercise she gets doing the two mile walk to the bus stop in the village keeps her fit. As does the two mile walk back although on a Wednesday, it is three miles back as the local omnibus company has had to stop the afternoon return service as part of that nice Mr Cameroon’s cut backs. I blame his mate Vince actually for all these cuts. I put the phone down. It was only while I was bathing in the tin tub in front of the range that I realised that I did not know the nice gentleman’s name. I was thinking that a little thank you card from me would not come amiss as he had been so concerned about me and my welfare. It would have been a nice gesture on my part after all the trouble he had gone to in telephoning me. It was the least I could have done in the circumstances, I feel.

    It is the British Universities Championships this weekend Blog. I shall write to you tomorrow to tell you all about my experiences at the British Universities Championships in Cardiff, fifty years ago, Blog. Something for you to look forward to???

                                               Colin