David informed us that Conkers are NOT banned at his school last week and could he have some…
There is a Chestnut tree in the car park at Karen’s work so she harvested a few. But, what is the best way to treat them? We tried the BBC method- soak briefly in vinegar, then bake in a very hot oven for a very short time.
So, after stringing them, we took them outside for a practise. I haven’t played conkers for forty years and David has never done it, but my vague recollection was that you thrashed your opponent’s one until it smashed, then tied an extra knot in the string. If you missed, however, it gave the opponent a chance to smash yours. When I thought about it a bit more, I remembered you could have three goes, the hit it till it smahes was the school bully version! (The official rules are online.)
So, how did we do? We were both rubbish! David eventually managed to knock mine off the string (via snagging) so I conceded victory to him.
It turns out that at school though, the craze for Conkers is waning, no-one else brought one in yesterday and it has been indoor playtime today because of the rain.
This morning, David went to sit the practice entrance exam at Heckmondwike Grammar. He did very well- but he certainly should have done, as it was the same paper he had been practising since their open evening!
It wasn’t totally wasted, as it gave him the opportunity to do it under exam conditions whilst we did the shopping. We nearly spoilt it all by giving him beans on toast made on mouldy bread (he had a dicky tummy earlier in the week and we suspect it was some past its best Weetabix).
We then nipped into Morley for the big book swap, an advance literacy festival event. (We will be going to three shows during the week).
For the afternoon, we visited a Circus who had set up their tent in nearby Tingley. Circus Mondao is in its third year and brings back animals to the big top- horses, shetland ponies, camels, llamas, goats, zebras, doves, a dog and a very furry rabbit. This went down very well with the children and the 50p visit to the stables afterwards was very popular. The show was rather good although the generator tripped at one point during the show.
Having animals in the Circus upsets the righteous (indeed Blackpool Tower and Yarmouth gave up animal acts under pressure many years ago) but they seemed to be well looked after in the ring and well cared for behind the scenes (& DEFRA seem to agree).
If you’ve ever wanted to watch a big top being erected in three minutes, here is their video.
In our IT (Information Technology) Department at work, there is a tradition of going out to the Pub on pay day Friday. I have no idea how popular it is as I have never been on it, but IT is a young (wo)man’s game and when I was young free and single I was certainly up for this sort of thing in my twenties.
It seems that some of the participants want more Pubs on the itinerary and this list popped into my inbox today:
Pub
Time in
Time to move on
The Fighting Cock
16:30
17:45
The Lord Clyde
18:00
18:45
Lloyds No1 bar
18:50
19:35
The Old Bank
19:40
20:25
Goose (changed to The Lord ?)
20:30
21:15
Sir Titus Salts
21:20
22:00
Curry (Omars)
22:00
Hmm. That looks quite a night out and I’d be sozzled by the time I got to the Goose.
I’d like to suggest a couple more-
00:30 Casualty, Bradford Royal Infirmary
02:30 Stomach pumped
5th August 2012 8:00 Liver transplant
Oh, yo have that stamina, it would be more of an ordeal than a pleasure. They say that youth is wasted on the young…
It is easy to feel sympathy for my Dad’s Brother who has outlived all his siblings and now lives alone in Canada. His arrival, however, makes it dissipate rapidly…
He lets us know roughly when he’ll be coming over in advance but not his itinerary. He rings the night before and tells us what time his train will be arriving in Leeds for an overnight stopover. (He is too old to rent hire cars now). The long retired tend to forget that the rest of us work for a living! The consequence of this is that he ends up having to sit in the station for several hours waiting for one of us to turn up. He likes to take us out for a meal, but is invariably rude to the staff. He assumes that everyone else is fascinated in railway modelling. He repeats himself and tells us stories we have heard before, sometimes earlier on. He discusses all of his latest illnesses at length. He rambles on about dull people we don’t know or particularly care about. He laments that he is going to die soon and brings us old photos & bric-a-brac in maudlin moments. (We now have a lot of them). He assures us that he isn’t racist, just zero tolerance. Despite not being racist, his conversations are littered with bigoted references to “blacks & coolies”. He is a grumpy old man.
Did he really have to tell us that when he went to Sunday School in the 1930s he was given a tiny coin envelope to bring back next week, printed with “The White Man’s Burden” on it, for starving children in Africa?
I still feel a little sad for him, but only between visits.
