I Wouldn’t Even Know Where To Start

We had a bit more snow last night. I had to scrape it off the car. Nothing too exciting though.

Pardew? Well that’s that then. All bets are off. I won't be able to get any decent odds on Newcastle’s relegation now.



At lunchtime I start my Christmas shopping. Click, click, click, click. Done. Gosh that was stressful.

After work I finally bite the bullet and go to the leisure centre. My intention is to attempt both a gym and a swim session but with my track record the pool will be probably shut and the gym full. Amazingly though, neither is the case. I pedal an uncomfortable 15km on the bike, their bikes are the most uncomfortable ever devised. Then I run 2km on the dreadmill, which was all I had time for before heading into the pool for a brisk 750 metres (30 lengths).

I can proudly report that I trounced absolutely everybody in the gym. Macho blokes, Lycra girlies, the whole lot of 'em and especially the Chinese girl doing a workout in jeans and a woolly jumper. She was unsurprisingly sweating buckets. Maybe that was the idea.

Then... everybody trounced me in the pool. Especially one girl who dived into my lane and opened with two lengths of butterfly. We all go 'wow'. A chap says to me, ‘I used to be able to do that’. Brag. I wouldn’t even know where to start. After that though she just poddles up and down doing breaststroke and backstroke. Presumably creased after those first two lengths.

I get home, expecting to have half an hour to relax but L tells me I’ve had a call and dog training has been brought forward half an hour to 8:30. So I head off again. At least with the earlier start I should be back earlier.

Hmmm. So much for finishing early. Got an extended session but not a very good one. We did an hour and a half of start line waits. Which basically means a lot of standing, both for dogs and humans. On one of the coldest evenings of the year (-6 it was). We could have done with doing a lot of running around but no. Absolutely frozen. I can’t feel my hands. What’s worst was this was Doggo’s once a month session and he can do ‘waits’ for England. If it had been MD’s night it might have been more useful.

(Wednesday 8th December)

What Breed This Time?

-10 this morning, even I was cold and not helped by the fact that there was no heating on the bus today. Usually it’s too hot on there. I get off the bus in Derby and skate the rest of the way into work.

There’s plenty of snow in Langdale where we are supposed to be running this weekend.



They’re not hopeful of the race being on though. L’s not hopeful of getting the tent pegs in the ground.



Perhaps I best look for a B&B.

Part of L’s Christmas list is a predictable as ever, the only variant each year is what breed it is this time. I was going to put a photo up of the dog concerned which was from the RSPCA Animal Shelter at Radcliffe but Pip has already gone. To a good home I trust.

Good news for some folk, perhaps. Heavy snow has forced an eight-day lock-in for seven people at one of Britain’s highest pubs, The Lion Inn near Kirkbymoorside. Suppose it depends what the beer was.

Another gig tonight. Our last before Christmas. We’re at the excellent Venue in Derby again. Three bands tonight. First up, Control. Who from their accent must have come down from Scotland with The View. They’re ok, although their lead singer seems to have a bit of a chip on his shoulder and seems a bit miffed about the lack of feedback from the small crowd. It’s early and they’re third band on the bill, what does he expect. Their indie-verging-on-punk sound is good though and their cover of ‘20th Century Boy’ is more than competent.



‘Love In The Asylum’ was, as I recall, a poem by Dylan Thomas. Whether this has any bearing on the name of the next band I have no idea but I think we can safely say it hasn’t influenced their sound. They too are good and better than Control, more accessible too. Almost at once the crowd seems into them, as everyone mutters ‘Kings of Leon clones’. Yep there’s a definite resemblance but on closer listen it’s not their actual sound, just Dan Dunne’s vocals. He could easily pass himself off as Caleb Fallowill in a very dark room, there is no physical resemblance. Their music though makes for a pleasant half hour.



After they’ve finished and the roadies have done their stuff, I check my watch and it’s already 9.45. Oh dear. Now we're worried. The later The View come on the drunker Kyle Falconer is likely to be. Then we watch the roadies load up the stage up with alcohol. Not looking good.

When they appear, the band are upright and looking 'up for it' in a sober looking sort of way. As they open with the ska-punk of ‘Wasteland’ they’re sounding good too. After which they launch in to what appears to be a love song, a new track called ‘Grace’ I believe. Blimey, sober times indeed.



The ante is upped by the excellent ‘5 Rebeccas’ with the band exhibiting far more energy than a strangely restrained crowd and it takes the following ‘Wasted Little DJs’ to get the audience fired up. The fire though soon goes out and newbie ‘Tragic Magic’ is met with muted applause and ‘Realisation’ off ‘Which Bitch?’ doesn’t seem to get any recognition at all.

Kyle and Kieren have by now swapped places and instruments, staying that way for ‘One Off Pretender’, played for the first time on this tour, and then sharing vocals on the oddly popular ‘Skag Trendy’.



The crowd meanwhile remain very subdued, not much dancing, hardly any beer throwing and certainly no crowd surfing. Has the View’s bubble burst or is it just a poor crowd? The band perhaps don’t help by playing no less than six new numbers and the unfamiliar songs stall the momentum when it does threaten to get going. If that’s the reason, it would be a shame, because I for one like hearing bands play new material and the View’s new stuff seems to be pretty inspired, decent songs with big choruses. In fact I would take them in preference to some of their odder older moments.

The band themselves seem to have moved on a touch. They are a tighter unit tonight, so much less ramshackle than of old. More mature perhaps. You simply don't feel it's going to fall apart any second. Perhaps that’s to the detriment... They’re note perfect most of the time and what’s this? Keyboards? When did that happen? And they’re definitely going a bit soft, ‘this is another one about a girl’ I think he tells us, although translation from Scottish to English often isn’t easy, and I think it’s called ‘Girl’. So it does what it says on the tin.



As Kyle announces that their new album is due in March, he doesn’t seem happy with the crowd, assuming he can see them through his fringe. He attempts to get a bit of banter going but it doesn't happen. This isn’t a banter friendly crowd, it's not really an anything crowd but also we can't decipher his Dundee accent. In fact we can barely catch more than a word at a time. So it doesn't happen. He's not happy about that. Cue a very inappropriate new song called 'Happy'. Which rather ironically turns out to be an infectious, corker of a track.

The crowd are so muted you forgot what is still to come and when ‘Superstar Tradesman’ arrives it’s almost a shock and it finally stokes the crowd a bit.



Then they’re bravely straight into a couple more new tracks. Although one of them, ‘Sunday’, is available for nothing from their website and it sounds excellent live. Then perhaps to emphasize their new found maturity Kyle reaches for a mug rather than a bottle. A mug? Get that. It could be coffee, although I suppose just as easily it could be full of a spirit. Who knows? Either way he’s still not enamoured with one of the least appreciative crowds I’ve seen in some time.

Despite finishing off with a storming ‘Shock Horror’ and the brief ‘Typical Time’, the band seem to have no intention of returning for an encore.

Finally there are cries of 'The View, The View, The View are on fire' but it’s too late. Bet they won’t be rushing back to play for us again in Derby. Tonight the View, whilst perhaps not totally aflame were certainly smouldering away nicely, unfortunately Derby wasn’t.

(Tuesday 7th December)

Shopping Challenge Number 56

I arrive into work to be met by a virus warning on my computer. Nice, and I’ve not even been downloading anything dodgy. Well, not for ages. Turns out to be not serious for once. Phew.

Shopping challenge number 56. OMG. What does a fennel look like? L says a fennel bulb is green and ugly like stumpy celery with hairy bits on the end. So that’s crystal clear then.



What a brain meltingly stupid decision by Newcastle United Football Club to sack Chris Hughton. A man who has earned the admiration of football supporters country wide by reviving Newcastle, getting them promoted and up to the dizzy height of 11th in the Premier League when everyone thought they’d be bottom six if they were lucky. The guy deserves a medal as big as a frying pan.



I’m just off down the bookies to put some money on them to go down. They’ll sink without trace now he’s gone.

Guess what... Tonight’s council run coaching course is off. Bet that shocked you. What a surprise. Two out of my three coaching nights have now been cancelled. The tutor is ill apparently. My next scheduled one isn’t until January 11th.

No dog training tonight either but that was planned. Our trainer is away and it had fitted in nicely with my coaching course. Now they'll rescheduled the course nights I’ve missed presumably when I have other things on.

Instead I spend the evening trying to construct a working computer for Daughter out of her old deceased one and a second hand one I bought on ebay. I’m thwarted by one missing cable. Typical.

So I put the Christmas tree up instead and then when I've done it, realise that it's actually a bit early for such festive gestures. I must be sickening for something.

What Have I Let Myself In For?

With our scheduled race at Edwinstowe cancelled we brave the snow which after yesterdays rain has now mainly turned to sheet ice, to travel over to Stoke or more precisely Newcastle under Lyme for this morning Newcastle Dales Dash 10k. There are no ‘dales’ in Newcastle under Lyme by the way. ‘Dales’ is the name of the organiser.

We’re in the Apedale Valley area of Chesterton for the seventh running of the 10k which is an off road race within Apedale Community Country Park which is on the site of an old mine. Past years apparently have been very very muddy. No chance of that this year, the ground is frozen solid.

We park up and skate up the road to registration. Oh dear. What have I let myself in for? I hope it really is all off road and there aren’t any stretches of iced up tarmac like this to negotiate.

The start is actually on the road, so I take the first stretch easy before we enter the park itself and up the first of many inclines. I would describe the route as undulating. That's putting it mildly. This was no jog in the park.



Actually I take the whole thing easy, not worth breaking my neck for a fast time. Despite people with ponytails and/or zimmer frames passing me. This would not be a PB friendly course in any weather.

I have to give the organisers credit for putting this race on. We needed a run and they provided it, with (sleigh) bells on. I love the snow but it’s just been too icy to run or cycle. I've even seriously considered going to the gym. Only considered mind. So far.



There was snow and ice everywhere but it was generally grippy enough even in the normal trainers that I wore. Where the ice was too bad there were marshals making sure you stayed away from the worse bits.

The final stretch was back along the entrance road, which had defrosted a bit by then. Unfortunately we had to run past our car which meant Doggo cheered me nosily all the way along the home straight. I could hear MD joining in, although he was in his ‘box’ and couldn’t see what he was barking at, not that that seems to deter him.

All in all a friendly race, a challenging course, hilly but rewarding and not a bad T-shirt at the end. Although they did run out of the smaller sizes much to L’s frustration.



(More photos available from www.racephotos.org.uk)

My time was awful, over 48 minutes, but I blame the conditions and I’ve no idea if the course was an accurate 10k or not. I suspect it was long and there weren’t any mile or km markers to break it down. The absence of which would have really annoyed me had I been after a decent time.

Afterwards I warm myself up with coffee in the car whilst L goes in search of something to accompany it and returns with two huge chunks of chocolate cake.

Then we head home where after quickly dropping L off I head back out to the dog club AGM. I have agreed to go on the committee next year, for my sins. I may be regretting it already as there was a three way argument between two existing committee members and a third who wished to rejoin. A very juvenile 'I can’t work with them' argument ensued. Children please. What have I let myself in for?

(Sunday 5th December)

Eighties Night

I take the dogs on the park this morning for a frolic through the virgin snow. Well it’s not actually much of a frolic; it’s a bit heavy going for a game of football. It wears me out more than the dogs.

Meanwhile L is down at our post office depot picking up a parcel and she is stunned when they hand her a pile of our post, which they hadn’t been delivering. We hadn’t noticed they hadn’t delivered, because our deliveries are terribly hit and miss anyway but if the post has reached the depot, why aren’t they delivering it? We’ve not had much snow at all in Nottingham; even most of the schools are open and postmen deliver on foot, so the snow’s not going to bother them is it.

Then as I get the bus over to Derby for the match it starts to rain. Great. The typical British winter has arrived at last. Well at least that'll shut the moaners, who don’t like the snow, up. However, looking at the forecast I'm hopeful the nice white stuff will be back with us soon.

I get the same bus driver who went the wrong way the other week and he does it again. Unbelievable. We sit in traffic getting nowhere. At 2.30 I attempt to jump off explaining that I would like to be at the match for kick off at 3.00 and at the rate he’s moving (or not moving) we won’t even be in the bus station by then. Reluctantly he lets me off.

Derby’s bubble has somewhat burst and they are totally outplayed by Norwich City, losing 2-1. I’m actually happy with that. I don’t want us to flirt with promotion this season.

Afterwards L drives over and we head over to Wolverhampton for a bit of an 80’s night. The Human League at the Civic Hall.

Support comes from ‘(We Are) Performance’, a three piece from Manchester, who make a great sound. Although I keep looking around for their fourth member, the one who is bashing out all the amazing synth tunes. This is because they consist only of a suave looking singer, who’s good; a girl with a guitar who only strums about three notes (not that that’s a criticism, many a successful career has been founded on less) and an electronics whizz complete his MacBook but even he only seems to play a few electric drum gadgets. That's it. Music is so easy-peasy. When you have it all taped or sequenced.



Still, as I said, they’re very good, well they sound good. They’re also very in keeping with The Human League, who have pulled a sizeable crowd tonight. Rather worryingly though, I might be the youngest one here. Possibly. The combined age of the front row is terrifying. No crowd surfing please gents, not with those walking sticks.

The League take the stage and open with a new track from their forthcoming album ‘Credo’. The track ‘Electric Shock’ seems very well received. Perhaps it’s the hooded monk on vocals that swings it for them. Then the monk removes his hood and blimey, it’s Phil Oakey. The winner of the prize for the most dubious outfit worn on stage at a Human League gig and it’s not an easy one to win, competition is fierce.



Then we’re straight into a run of classics. I can happily report that Phil still can’t hit those high notes in ‘Open Your Heart’ but he never has been able to and it's never bothered him or us. ‘Mirror Man’ follows and then ‘Heart Like A Wheel’ introduced as one of former member Jo Callis’s anti-war songs and that is aptly followed by something in a similar refrain, ‘The Lebanon’. Which brings their frustrated guitarist, Nic Burke, to the fore. It’s good to see he’s still with them and hasn't jumped ship to AC-DC, where I think possibly his heart lies.

As the hits keep coming, ‘Louise’ followed by a couple from Dare, ‘Love Action’ and ‘Sound Of The Crowd’, it’s all very good but I do feel a bit duped. I was intrigued to come because this tour was supposed to be in support of their new album but that is not now out until March. So again tonight we generally get a greatest hits set, which is obviously what the masses want to hear but I wanted to hear what they’d been up to in the studio. Their last album ‘Secrets’ was very good indeed and hugely underrated.



Then came two old oldies. No disrespect to the girls, who went for a breather at this point (we're all getting to that sort of age), but ‘Being Boiled’ was absolutely ace, it sounded great and had the best light show of the night. ‘Empire State Human’, which followed, wasn’t too far behind either, with Phil playing a guitar strap keyboard.



The girls returned after a wardrobe change for the new single ‘Night People’ with its incredibly cheesy lyrics. The song isn’t bad but it seemed a lot of the crowd were perplexed by it and what it was doing ruining their night of nostalgia.

Then another one they probably didn’t know, ‘All I Ever Wanted’, from 'Secrets'. There was no doubting that everyone knew the closing threesome of ‘(Keep Feeling) Fascination’, ‘Tell Me When’ and ‘Don't You Want Me’ though.



‘Seconds’ was a bit of a surprise as the encore with Phil back in monk mode and again no girls. It was also stupendously good. No offence girls. Then they’re back, with another outfit for the closing ‘cover’ of ‘Together In Electric Dreams’.

All good stuff. I would have preferred to hear more songs from ‘Credo’, but that would have upset the masses. Maybe next time.

(Saturday 4th December)

Dominoes

I ought to get up early and run in along the river. I bet the snow is great along there. It’s minus eight. I change my mind.

Sunday’s 10km race at Edwinstowe is off and has been re-arranged for January 9th. Ugh. Picking up a t-shirt with a Christmas tree on it on January, that won’t be pleasant. I was looking forward to it as well, a race in the snow, particularly after my training run in the white stuff on Tuesday.

I check the race calendar for a replacement and there are some races that are hopeful of going ahead. It boils down to a choice between the RNLI’s Reindeer Run at Dudley Zoo or Newcastle Dales Dash 10K, that’s in Newcastle under Lyme. I email both and the organiser of the Dales Dash assures me the race will be on and even brags of the ten centimetres of snow lying on the course. So that gets my vote. L reckons it’ll take a couple of Leffes to talk her into it. Only two? So she’s in as well then.

I worry that I might be delayed getting home, we have a gig tonight, as they’ve had to evacuate part of Derby city centre due to a car on fire in one of the multi story car parks but thankfully it all seems sorted by the time I get there.

Then five minutes after departing on bus, the driver pulls over, stops the bus, gets off and starts throwing snowballs at his own windscreen. What the... then I realise that his screen wash has obviously frozen up.

I make it home in enough time and then head down to Rock City. As I walk across town, a taxi pulls up outside Cast and two girls, inappropriately attired for the Arctic conditions get out. The skimpy dresses are one thing; the high heels another and predictably... whoops, down they both go on the ice. One dominoing into the other and taking her down as well. I stop laughing long enough to offer assistance. They’re not very grateful.

I meet up with L, who is appropriately attired for the conditions. She’s taking no chances and says she’s wearing practically all she possesses. She’ll be taking up more than her fair share of space on the front row.

Rock City haven’t got the stage times up for tonight’s concert but their website indicates three bands tonight so by getting there around 7.30 we expect to miss Dark Horses but we should be in time for the Duke Spirit, who I’m keen to see.

Not so. Leila Moss is just finishing up with their last track as we arrive. Only two bands tonight and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club on at 8.00. Oh well, at least not long to wait. Thankfully the band have made it up from last night’s show in Portsmouth. I had a feeling a bit of weather wouldn’t stop them.

The gig is billed as part of Rock City's 30th Anniversary Celebrations, not that this means much. Most of their gigs this month seem to be. It’s still something worth celebrating though.

It’s also landmark time for BRMC. They will be performing their 1000th live concert at the Brixton Academy on December 11th, which makes this their 994th.

They are indeed on at 8.00 and play through for a full two hours. The sound isn’t great tonight and the band are beset by a few technical problems. After the opening ‘666 Conducer’, Peter Hayes’s amp appears to pack up. As they sort it. Robert Been picks up an acoustic guitar and breaks into an unscheduled rendition of ‘Sympathetic Noose’ off their acoustic diversion album ‘Howl’. Hayes’ meanwhile lights up a cigarette. Naughty.

Been doesn’t quite finish ‘Sympathetic Noose’ before the amp is sorted and the boys are back to full volume and power with ‘Stop’. About time. They never play that for me, until now.



When I say ‘the boys’, that is slightly incorrect. Shock Horror. Black Rebel now have a girl drummer. It was their drummer, Nick Jago, who kept drifting in and out of the band. Seems he’s currently out and his place has been taken by Leah Shapiro, who has worked with the Raveonettes. Being replaced by a girl must almost be as bad as being over taken by one in a 10k. He has my sympathy. Of course, it's the done thing these days. It used to be bass players, and still is to a certain extent, but now its drummers.

Overall it’s a good solid show with a nice selection of old stuff blended with the new from this year’s ‘Beat the Devil's Tattoo’ album, which sounds much better live than on record, with 'Bad Blood' and ‘Half-State’ as good as anything they've done.



BRMC could easily survive on their no frills roof rattling numbers but instead, they deliver a good mix of slow and fast numbers. An old classic, ‘Whatever Happened to My Rock 'n' Roll (Punk Song)’, probably as old as Hayes’ shirt which has seen better days, gives way to an acoustic segment in the middle of the set.

At least Hayes’ shirt is black. Been takes off his leather jacket to reveal a very unusual site at BRMC gig, a white t-shirt. All his black ones must be in the wash.



The slow numbers include an unexpected cover of The Pogues ‘Dirty Old Town’ done solo by Been. An interesting choice to say the least. Then Hayes takes up the acoustic baton with ‘Complicated Situation’ and ‘The Toll’. It’s quite striking that a band known mainly for their wall of sound are still lifting a lot of stuff off ‘Howl’, showing how good that album actually was. Perhaps not everyone agrees though. Some of the crowd talk through the acoustic numbers; in fact it’s probably the most chattering I’ve ever heard at a gig. Shame on those people.

Later Been even sits at the piano for another mellow moment, ‘Long Way Down’, before they return to the heavier stuff with Baby 81's awesome ‘Berlin’ and ‘Conscience Killer’ off the new record before they end by giving us a right pummelling with an oldie, ‘Six Barrel Shotgun’.



The amp seemed to go again at start of the encore during ‘Spread Your Love’. Time for another smoke eh Peter? Soon sorted though, which leads us into a fairly slow and moody finish with a double header of the brooding extravagance of ‘Shadows Keeper’ and finally ‘Open Invitation’.

L deserts me for the encore, fed up with a dodgy element around her spoiling the gig. I meet her in the Ropewalk where she has a Leffe in hand. I have to fight my way through a couple of inches of fresh white stuff to get there and it's still snowing.



There are no buses running, so later we walk, well totter, home.

(Friday 3rd December)

No Complaints From Me About The Weather

My bus is on time again, the roads are clear and there's hardly any traffic about so I arrive at work earlier than usual! The added bonus is that all the women on my bus who are usually in power suits are now donning woolly black stockings and walking boots. Which is far sexier. I have no complaints about this Arctic weather at all.



I think L is getting a bit fed up with our wimpy dog. Collies are supposed to be outdoor beasts, used to combing the hills in all weathers looking for lost sheep. Ours prefer a comfy duvet and a hot water bottle.

Doggo has had a bit of a rough time of it these past few mornings. L’s had to repeatedly defrost his paws. MD doesn’t have the same problem as his paws barely touch the ground when he's out walking. Yesterday a load of snow slid off the lid of one of the wheelie bins on the park and unfortunately onto Doggo's head. He was absolutely mortified. You would have thought he would have shaken it off, but no, he just sat there petrified and had to be revived with a full body rub down. Tempted to try that one myself.

She vows she’s not walking him again unless he wears socks and perhaps gets a coat for Christmas. This is a bit of a turnaround, it’s usually MD she swears she’s not ever walking again.

Apparently the old man even helped himself to a bundle of socks off the bedroom radiator, so perhaps that’s a hint... or perhaps he just wanted to play.

I can’t imagine getting him into a coat. He’d be petrified. He’d think we were trying to murder him or something.

It’s been gently flaking down with snow all day long and I quite fancied a lunch time stroll and a pint but my colleague declined to venture out. Personally I thought it was a good opportunity for a long liquid lunch.

L's suggested technique for getting home is to sit at the top of Ilkeston Road and simply slide home down the hill. Which sounds great, I might get the bus straight into Nottingham and join her.

At work, we’re all kind of gripped, in a morbid expecting the inevitable defeat sort of way, to the World Cup bid decision. The verdict comes forty minutes late after the stuffing of twenty pound notes into brown envelopes took longer than expected.

Latest score. 1-0 to the Mafia. Which continues FIFA policy of taking the tournament around the world's most dangerous countries. This year South Africa, four years time Brazil and now Russia. I wonder if Afghanistan will bid for 2026.

And it’s Qatar for 2012. What a surprise. That's four in a row for Mr Blatter. His favoured bids have both won, just like in 2010 and 2014.

So everyone else has wasted a lot of money bidding for these two cups and they’ve simply gone where the head of FIFA wanted them to go. If the strategy is to take the cup to countries that don’t have any stadiums, infrastructure or much of a football tradition then they should just say so. Then countries with everything already in place like England and Spain won’t waste their time and money bidding.

I’m not totally opposed to Russia getting it, they do after all like their football there and they do usually qualify for the tournament, which should be a condition of bidding in my opinion, but really they should have been given a smaller tournament first, such as the Euros. Qatar though is just an out and out joke.

We only got two votes, one of them our own, despite having received the best FIFA evaluation report. Bit of a stitch up there. Same thing happened to Australia, who I favoured purely because the other candidates USA, Japan and South Korea have all hosted the tournament recently. They received the best evaluation report for 2022 and they only got one vote. Not sure who their media upset. Whilst the two countries with the worst evaluation report have both won. Work that one out.

Squash tonight is interesting. I lose 3-2 which means my opponent is well unhappy but not as unhappy as his racquet.



(Thursday 2nd December)