Chester; car repairs; misc constructive activity

Left MK blisteringly early on Thursday 23rd (0622 train – but it meant a return ticket for only £24) bound for a city break in Chester with Mum. Pictures here. We had, after some dithering (mainly on my part), ended up booking into a Premier Inn again, so after dumping bags we set off towards the city with the aim of locating a café for breakfast. After a pleasant stroll through Grosvenor Park and along the river, where we stopped to admire the weir and the Old Dee Bridge, we walked into the city centre and had a fine breakfast at a branch of Carluccio’s. Viewed the Town Hall and the cute baby elephant statue in Town Hall Square (though it was impossible to take a photo of it that didn’t also include man on bench eating pasty) and then went to visit Chester Cathedral. We paid the entrance charge with a certain bad grace – although Mum had toyed with the idea beforehand of claiming she was there for the purposes of worship (apparently you can get in free if that’s the case), in the event we didn’t think we’d manage to look devout enough, so paid the fee. Impressive building and the red sandstone is striking.

Chester weir and Old Dee Bridge

Disappointingly, we couldn’t get into the Cloister Garden as it was shut for safety reasons due to the paving slabs being wet (somewhat mysteriously, as it was a sunny day). Afterwards we had a wander along part of the Rows and called into the Mad Hatter’s Tearoom for an indulgent cupcake, before taking a late afternoon walk along part of the City Walls and stopping for a glass of wine at The Pelican. We ate dinner at Artichoke in the Steam Mill – lovely food though I left almost unable to move. Must practice that elegant small portions thing.

On the Friday we had a quick breakfast at the PI before setting out for Chester Zoo. My painstaking research beforehand had identified the bus we needed to take, so after a 15-minute bus journey we were deposited at the Zoo entrance along with a number of other people, when it promptly began pouring with rain. Luckily, I had stuffed into my rucksack the new Muji raincoat I had bought earlier in the week to replace the Pocket Coat, so was able to wear this, albeit it does look completely absurd (having seen this photo Ruth has asked me never to wear it in her company). I haven’t yet cut it to size as per the instructions, so that would probably help.

We had a pleasant, albeit damp, wander around the Zoo, though found the signposting a little vague so spent quite a while figuring out how to get to our chosen enclosures. Once back in Chester we went for tea at the Refectory Café in the Cathedral – splendid setting in the 13th century monks’ dining hall. We duly admired the large east window and the tapestry on the west wall. Later we had an evening walk around the ruins at the east side of the Church of St John the Baptist and had a look at the Roman Amphitheatre, before going for dinner at Ristorante Sergio, a traditional-style Italian complete with exuberant head waiter. In the morning Mum went off to get her train while I went for a walk along the river and over the Queen’s Park footbridge, opened in 1923 in front of sundry Aldermen, where I had a quick poke around the posh streets on the other side before walking along the river the other way past Chester Castle and the extravagant Propylaeum, before heading back for my train.

Took the car in to Anglos on the Monday morning and was told that the wheel rim (?) was split, not just bent, meaning that a quick bash back into shape wasn’t going to be possible. I had been assuming that one of the advantages of owning a Ford would be that parts would be readily available in the UK, but no, it turned out that the correct wheel had to be ordered from Germany and wouldn’t arrive until Thursday. Anglos reckon that the chap who had my car from new ordered non-standard wheels for it. How helpful. I duly took the car back on Thursday, and it now has a new wheel, at a cost of £220. I have apologised to it and am now driving extremely carefully.

Met at Ali's house in Tilehurst on Thursday evening for a small select Book Group gathering, though Ali's daughter stayed to pad out our numbers. Discussed Louise Stern's Chattering, an interesting collection of short stories written from the point of view of deaf people. Ali had announced beforehand that we were getting baked potatoes, which underrepresented the delicious twice-baked jobs with pancetta and cheese that were served up - very nice.


Ruth and I both booked Friday off and had a pleasantly domestic few days, starting with a trip to the tip on Friday morning to offload some rubble left over from the plastering, a couple of buckets of soot and other crap from digging Harley out of the chimney, and the top portion of the cordyline which Ruth trimmed the previous weekend to allow space for the new bamboo to (hopefully) grow and flourish. We then drove over to Dobbies Garden Centre on a bit of a whim and had lunch, followed by an unplanned purchase of a granite orb which is going to form a new water feature for the garden. Later we took the car along to Nisi Hand Car Wash on Cardiff Road, near the Cow Lane bridges, for a bit of a buffing by way of compensation for breaking its wheel. Ruth persuaded me to go for the Gold Service, but in fact the only extra with that appears to have been an extremely pungent air freshener which I may have to dispense with soon as the whole car now stinks of apples.

Noticed from an ad on the side of the KFC at Reading Retail Park that KFC now includes gravy among its offerings. I haven’t had a KFC for about 20 years, but this sounds particularly unpleasant – though, amazingly, there’s actually a Facebook page dedicated to it. Comparable perhaps to the new offering on the Domino’s Pizza menu of a stuffed crust with mozzarella and barbecue sauce – just not an appropriate combination.

Jacksons Lane looking south

On Saturday, continuing the constructiveness, we visited Rainbow Carpets on Caversham Road and actually chose a carpet for bedrooms 1 and 2 (though the actual decision-making may have been helped by my refusing to leave the shop until we’d chosen one). Very helpful chap who gave us a provisional estimate then and there and a couple of samples to take home, with an appointment to come and measure up next Saturday.


Made a particularly excellent asparagus and chive frittata on Saturday evening, which Ruth has suggested is worthy of blogging. Here it is.

On Sunday, despite the dire weather forecast, we went for a walk through Caversham Heights via Chazey Road and up Jacksons Lane, which bisects Caversham Heath golf course. The rain really set in at this point (no golfers in sight) but Ruth impressed me by remaining in reasonable spirits, though there were threats along the lines of my owing her a ruched blind or two in compensation. Then out on to the A4074 at Chazey Heath where I had originally thought of stopping for a pint at the Pack Saddle, but as it was only 11.10am and we looked like drowned rats, we passed on that and headed back into Caversham.

In an attempt to meet more people in MK I went for a pleasant dinner on Tuesday evening at the MK branch of Strada with members of the OU's LGBT Network. Bagged a lift with Jeannie, who I've met a couple of times, and met several new people including retired couple Maggie and Sylvia - Maggie, who retired from the OU last year after thirty years, is apparently a former European judo bronze medallist. There's constructive activity.

Outraged of Dorking; car maltreatment; big bamboos

Penned my first missive to the Milton Keynes Citizen last week in response to a ludicrously stupid headline adorning their weekly ‘Feedback’ slot, in which members of the MK public are asked for their views on a chosen question of the week. “Giving offence is a social faux pas” – yes, those days when it was quite acceptable were much better. Idiots. Bears out my long-held suspicion that people who rail against ‘political correctness’ (whatever that is) are just peeved they’re no longer allowed to beat their wives and stick signs saying ‘No Coloureds’ in shop windows. I Ask You.

Ruth and I went round to Ray’s on Friday evening for a pleasant dinner, if not strictly home-cooked – I had volunteered to bring the food and had done something resembling a supermarket trolley dash around Waitrose on the way. The evening started badly when I unaccountably drifted while driving along the private road leading to the marina and had to swerve sharply off the road to avoid an oncoming car, unfortunately into a deep pothole, flattening one of my tyres and bending the wheel rim. Drove more cautiously than usual back to MK on the spare on Monday morning, but car seemed to handle fine so hopefully there’s no damage to the suspension. It’s booked in at the garage next Monday so will find out the damage then.

On Saturday morning Ray drove us over to Riverside Nurseries in Bisham, a wholesale nursery from which he and Darren obtain a lot of their plants for work, to choose the new bamboo for the garden that he had offered us as a Christmas present out of some of his credit there (some unique footage here). Picked out a fine tall specimen with thick green stems, which we managed with a bit of manipulation to get into Ray’s van, though it looked initially as though we’d made a bit of an error of judgement. We got it back to the house and Ruth planted it up that afternoon, fairly nobly as a) it was raining by then and b) I asked her to replant it further forward as I didn’t like the position of the first hole she’d dug. It looks splendid. Hoping it will now grow like the blazes.

When I went outside to critique/admire the new installation, I decided to christen the Pocket Coat that Ruth had bought on holiday in New Zealand in 2008 but never worn. Didn’t realise it was quite as disposable as it evidently was – when I went to unfasten a couple of the poppers I’d done up, it tore clean across (though the poppers stayed resolutely done up). Consigned it to the bin. Disposable coats aren’t what they used to be. This young Korean couple modelling Pocket Coats on the packaging look very happy though.

Yellow peril

Made myself press on with some jobs in the house during the rest of the weekend, starting with applying MDF primer to the lengths of MDF that are hopefully destined to become a wall of shelving in the attic. After that, steeled myself to continue stripping wallpaper from the little cupboard in bedroom 1, a job I started on New Year’s Eve and abandoned when I removed the paper from the ceiling and, perhaps inevitably, a load of the plaster also fell down. We had been hoping to get away without having the cupboard plaster-skimmed but it was not to be, so the intention is to get that done as soon as I’ve finished removing the paper. The woodchip is coming off reasonably easily (though thank God for our Bosch steam stripper) but under it there lurks a cunning layer of a foul yellow wallpaper, such as one cannot believe people ever put on their walls, which is proving much trickier. Perseverance is going to be necessary.

Brunei Gallery

Accompanied Judith to a HESA seminar today on the new KIS return, thankfully not at their Cheltenham headquarters but at SOAS' Brunei Gallery, a shorter and easier journey. Judith had announced her intention the day before of taking as late a train as possible, but as that's completely against my personality type I took an earlier train and arrived with about an hour and a half to spare. Wandered down Tottenham Court Road and popped into Cilantro for a second breakfast. The experience just goes to show that looks aren't everything; civilised-looking place with quite posh decor, but was served one of the most watery cups of coffee I've ever had (and in a glass, which was slightly bizarre) and, though I'd ordered a pain au chocolat, what arrived was a croissant with chocolate sauce drizzled over the top. In fairness, the young waitress was polite and did come along to ask me how everything was, so I took the opportunity to say that the coffee was very weak; they took it away with no quibbling and produced a replacement cup which was indeed a great improvement. Just serve that in the first place? Formed an interesting contrast with the rather spit-and-sawdust Caffe Quattro near Waterloo that Ray and I breakfasted at in January, which nonetheless serves thoroughly excellent coffee.

Homemaking; other people's relatives; snow

Turns out that the rabbit show-jumping we saw at the London Pet Show last May was not a one-off, as Ruth has sent me this link reporting on a rabbit ‘grand national’ held in Yorkshire a week or so ago. The report originally included a video clip, but that appears to have been removed. Those Swedes are evidently crack jumpers though, as it was a team of Swedish bunnies who thrashed the Brits at the London event too.

Ray came up for the evening on Thursday and made me listen to an episode of Clare in the Community on Radio 4, which he has been suggesting that I would like. Indeed I did, and will seek out more of it. I cooked a really quite thrifty pork casserole with paprika, using (sshh) Sainsburys Basics pork. A two-hour cooking time, but I’d started it the previous evening. Am officially domestic goddess. Well, until it comes to dusting and hoovering things, as Ruth will testify. That stuff's just boring.

Spent several hours on Saturday in Hungerford and environs: started with a trip to Inklings to purchase a birthday card, as I have apparently hidden the stack of cards Ruth keeps in reserve for family birthdays, then eschewed the usual antiques arcade in favour of Great Grooms, opposite The Bear, as Ruth fancied a nose inside. We had a brief mooch and warmed our hands on the radiators (v. cold day) before bumping into Gail and Rob, apparently on the hunt for pieces of stained glass, though I didn’t quite gather what for. The four of us then decamped over the road to The Bear, where we met Ruth and Gail’s mother and aunt for a pleasant though pricey lunch. As a postscript: quite what the subtitle on Great Grooms’ website actually means is something of a mystery: ‘the finest antiques for period & contemporary lifestyles’ – what’s a ‘period lifestyle’? And who leads one?

Granny and Ruth

After lunch we drove up to Aldbourne Nursing Home for Ruth’s grandmother’s 104th birthday tea, where we met up with Mrs Millard’s cousin Mary, an excellently down-to-earth woman who kept everyone amused and took leave of me with a wink and instructions to “look after Bones” (excellent, a new nickname). We spent quite a pleasant hour or so before the conservatory, where we were, started getting cold and Mrs Box was wheeled off back to the lounge.

Wintry canal

Drove home in snow which had progressed to about two inches’ worth by Sunday morning. Returned to Milton Keynes that morning, partly in case conditions got worse over Sunday night as I wouldn’t have fancied untreated roads at 5.30am. The main roads were fine; the only slippery bits were the unmade road at the back of the house, and the little estate here in MK. Learned afterwards that there were major delays on ‘my’ section of the M40 on Saturday night – it is quite hilly in parts which can’t have helped. Spent Sunday grocery shopping, going for a brief walk in the snow to try out my new stretch-on shoe spikes (v.g.) and baking a batch of apple cupcakes to use up a slightly woolly apple and some past-the-date eggs. What thrift. Actually baked a second batch on Monday evening and took them into work, where I was Most Popular Girl in the Class for that morning. The canal here looked really quite frozen on Monday morning, though I don't think I'd have tried my weight on it.

At work I continue to be sucked into the world of writing data definitions and coding fields, which is new and no doubt valuable experience but a bit of a learning curve. Our HESA analyst is on leave this week but the spec he has left me to work from includes a number of notes in red saying ‘IGNORE (WELSH)’. An important message for all of us, no doubt.

Goon Squad; spa; marmalade

Met at Helen’s house on Thursday to discuss Jennifer Egan’s A Visit from the Goon Squad, winner of the 2011 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. Helen and I had liked it; the two Claires didn’t seem to have managed to read it; Alison, Sarah and Lesley seemed to have found it altogether too confusing, although Lesley had heroically finished it nonetheless. The Wikipedia entry reckons it’s being adapted into a television series, which sounds a bit puzzling. Helen had cooked a chicken curry, which we followed up with the usual array of cakes.

Horsey in situ

Had a day at Nirvana Spa on Friday to finally make use of the generous voucher Ruth had bought me for last year’s birthday present. My Day Spa Experience package was supposed to include an hour’s Floatation treatment in the Dead Sea Celestial Pool, but I scored ‘nul points’ on that as I couldn’t get the hang of the sensation. Should have known better really as I’ve never particularly enjoyed floating on the back – swimming, yes, but one is in control then … Did what anyone would do and went for an early lunch instead, followed by an hour or so’s reclining on the heated ceramic loungers, before having a shoulder and back massage from an earnest young man who rather overdid the crunching my shoulders, before having the cheek to tell me at the end that I was tense in that area and trying to sell me an expensive soothing gel.

Art wall

Marmalade

A quiet weekend but we re-installed Ruth's horse picture on the newly-plastered and painted chimney breast in bedroom 1, and I made a start on my planned wall of artwork in the attic by installing a small canvas I painted a year or so ago, henceforth 'A Study in Yellow'. What with all these magazines reckoning you can paint your own canvases, I thought I'd have a go. Ruth, surprisingly, decided to finally use the can of Ma Made that's been lurking in the understairs cupboard for a year or so and produced half a dozen or so jars of marmalade, one of which I bore proudly back to MK on Monday. Verdict: nice, though could probably get by with less sugar. I think she is undecided whether to go the whole hog and try making it with actual oranges, muslin etc.

Bassoons; junk food Olympics; Whitechapel

Went to another free lunchtime concert in the OU’s St Michael’s Church last week, by bassoon quartet 'Reed Rage'. They played a number of pieces, most of which I wasn’t familiar with, and gave a very slick performance all round. And a marvellous instrument. One of their number played a contrabassoon during some of the pieces, which is certainly big and bass-y. Here's a chap from the LSO apparently giving a contrabassoon lesson.

Caffe Quattro, York Road

Went up to London with Ray on Saturday, as he had an invitation to attend a GamesMaker recruitment day for the 2012 Olympics and wanted to make the most of the train ticket. He had apparently applied some time ago and thought nothing had come of it, but evidently they’re selecting around 100,000 Games Makers in a selection process that’s taken the best part of a year. We had a good coffee and bacon sandwich at Caffe Quattro near Waterloo station, a café I discovered a year or so ago, and then trekked out to the ExCeL, where I read my book for the hour or so he was inside.

When we reconvened afterwards he appeared to be having a moral crisis as to whether his conscience would allow him to assist with the Olympics, if chosen, due to the prominence at the recruitment session of Cadbury ('the Official Treat Provider of the London 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games') and free buckets of Heroes. Not sure what the decision will be on that one.

After leaving the ExCeL we made our way back to the Whitechapel area and found ourselves on Brick Lane, where we spent quite a while looking for a lunch spot given that Ray had said he didn’t fancy an Indian. By the time we had walked past about 50 curry houses, he had cracked and said he’d be OK with one, so we lunched at Sheba, apparently the Queen of Brick Lane Curries. After lunch we went to visit the Whitechapel Gallery. A large room on the ground floor contained the usual incomprehensible installation, but one of the rooms upstairs was given over to some memorabilia and photographs from the Mark Rothko exhibition (his British premiere) there in 1961, which was more interesting.

On Sunday morning I furiously glossed the areas of wood I’d primed the previous weekend. Have vowed not to use any more gloss paint – it’s sticky and it stinks.

Cholesterol; road tedium; lovely lovely whiteness

Discovered last week from my doctor’s surgery that my cholesterol levels are moderately high; news which was followed by an irritating appointment with a nurse (I am reminded of Little Britain’s Marjorie Dawes) and a slightly less irritating consultation with a GP. The upshot seems to be that they don’t put people on statins until their total level reaches 7, so I am to eat a lower fat diet for a year and then get tested again. Sulked for most of last week, but am moderately resigned to giving it a go (I say ‘moderately’).

Returned to Reading for the weekend but didn’t achieve much on Saturday, partly through continued sulking at unfairness of cholesterol levels. Perked up a bit on Sunday and Ruth and I took a load of stuff to the tip, including plastering leftovers, soot and other crap from the chimney rescue and some empty paint cans. Back home I primed various bits of wood in the attic before cooking a Jamie Oliver recipe for dinner involving tuna steaks (they count as oily fish, dontcha know) on a bed of pulses and herbs. With some Chardonnay. I don’t think wine is high in fat.

Am more or less into my routine of 5.30am starts from Reading to get back to my flat in time for breakfast before work, but Monday’s journey proved particularly trying. Arrived at the A404 Marlow-Bisham bypass around 6am to discover that it was blocked off by police; thanks to this horse, I discovered later. Reckless beast. That only necessitated a relatively minor detour through Marlow, but was distinctly peeved to discover half an hour later that junction 10 of the M40 was also closed. Continuing to junction 11 involves a major detour, so must explore possible alternative routes as this is not the first time junction 10 has been closed since I’ve been driving this route. This article seems to reckon that the junction is particularly awkwardly laid out, which there is some truth in.

Belated mention that painter Chris O'Toole did a fabulous job on bedrooms 1 and 2 and the upstairs hallway - walls now beautifully coated in Dulux Jasmine White, while we went for a satinwood rather than gloss on the woodwork as a couple of the painters I saw reckoned that gloss discolours in central heating. Never knew that. Chris even found and fitted a little piece of skirting to replace the piece that apparently popped out after Handyman Paul did some enthusiastic bashing in the next room. Top bloke.

Curry; car maintenance; local history

This month’s Book Group book was Rosie Thomas’ The Kashmir Shawl, which I had chosen in my usual scouting around at the last minute for good ideas sort of way, and also Mum had recommended Thomas as a decent author. Indeed, a damned good read, and it seemed to have proved a popular choice with everyone, which was gratifying. We met at the River Spice by Caversham Bridge, only newly become an Indian after having been a general ‘modern British’ type restaurant for some years. Great spot by the river; its previous incarnation as the Riverside probably suited the location better, but perhaps there’s more of a tendency these days for curry houses to want tasteful décor, river views etc. Slightly sad that the days of garish décor and loud twangy music may be numbered.

Most garish Indian restaurant of my experience is still a restaurant Ray and I once found ourselves in in an unassuming suburb of Leicester (no memory of why we were in Leicester in the first place, but we had driven around the city for some time without being able to find whatever it was we were looking for, and eventually parked in a huff on a side street and ended up in what was presumably the Indian restaurant equivalent of a local. I don’t remember the food, just bright colours.) For a garish Chinese, the Peking Palace in Caversham is good – lots of padded satin on the walls. Also love the fact that their homepage spells ‘Peking’ as ‘Peeking’.

Milton Keynes Central Library

Recently had to book my car in for a bit of attention, as Mum reckoned she could hear the brakes grinding when I drove her to Hay and back over Christmas. Used the terribly useful OU intranet noticeboard to find a garage recommendation, and ended up at Anglo Continental Cars (apparently ‘Anglo’s’ to locals) on the Mount Farm industrial estate. Unassuming-looking premises but they were very good and apparently checked the car out, phoned me to say they couldn’t find anything wrong with the brakes and didn’t charge me any money. Score.

Spent last weekend in MK to get my flat in order after the Christmas break. Took the bus into CMK on the Saturday morning and paid a visit to the monolithic public library, which I duly joined and spent a bit of time browsing around, before withdrawing a book called Memories of Milton Keynes, as I thought I should find out a bit more about the history of the city. Some really interesting reminiscences from people involved in the New Town’s development and from people who moved to MK in its early days. There are a number of quotes from people who evidently left London for a better life in the new city – was there a push, in the 1970s/early 1980s, to persuade people to relocate? Here’s the ‘Red Balloon’ ad for Milton Keynes, released in 1982.