An unusual sound

Every time I go outside the house here in Cornwall, I notice it. The unusual sound that is. It is the sound of a combine harvester being driven relentlessly up and down (or is it round and round?) the neighbouring fields, together with its attendant tractors and trailers which relieve it of its precious cargo. My uncle (who knows about these things) tells me that the harvest is usually gathered in during July, but following the appalling wet weather, the last few glorious days have dried the crop to the point at which it can be gathered in. Winter wheat is planted in October, and so no sooner with the harvest be complete than the tractors and ploughs will be deployed to prepare for the sowing of next years crop.

We have much to be thankful for, not least the supply of food, which for all but a few unfortunate souls is pretty plentiful. It is only when you see one of these amazing machines hard at work that you realise the technology that is built into it. Much of the cereal crop has been beaten more or less horizontal by the wind and the rain, but a skilled operator can get the combine to lift, cut and thresh just about all of the crop in a way that would have been impossible in the days of doing it all by hand. It all happens so quickly too. In a bygone age the work would have taken familes some weeks to complete with each stage depending on the weather.

If I ruled the world, all children from urban schools would spend a day watching the harvest so that there is a little more appreciation of what goes into producing our daily bread.

Friday

I have not posted for a few days, which is rather remiss of me. I am in Cornwall where the weather is beautiful. It is warm, sunny and nearly all the holidaymakers have gone home.

My mother gets weaker and more immobile every time I visit and I get increasingly depressed about it. I know in my heart of hearts that there is nothing more I can do, but the heartache remains.

The picture is another one from the party and shows no. 2 son, Thomas, being served with roast pork, stuffing and apple sauce in a bun while his sister, Robin salivates while waiting her turn. The crowd of young people, some of whom can be seen in the background, made heroic attempts to eat all of the pork, but admitted defeat in the end. We shall be eating it for a while yet.

The whole pig roast, which was I hasten to add was my beloved wife's idea, was a brilliant one. I recommend it to anyone, but before you chose, ensure the pig is roasted from cold on site. If it is pre-cooked, it tends to sit in its own fat while being transported. It will cost you slightly more, but it is well worth it.

Party - Some Pictures

Thanks to the technical wizardry of Brother-in-law Paul, I am now able to put some pictures from our party on Saturday.

The first gives an overall impression of the scene towards the end. I know it is towards the end, because the canopy covering the pig roast has gone. I will search pictures for a picture of the pig roast, if only because it was one of the highlights of the day.





The second picture show my James (one of the twins) wearing his new fez that someone brought and gave him

Photos - or the lack of...

The photos of our party are still in the hands (camera?) of our official photographer my esteemed brother-in-law. He has obviously been too busy going to Hethel to see the Lotus factory to upload the photos from the party, at least one of which will be highly unflattering.

The Party's over....

The day we have been fretting about is over. It has been brilliant. Our guests seem to have had a wonderful time, the weather was fine - as good as it has been for weeks - the food was brilliant and it all went perfectly.

Thanks are due to so many, Tim, Paul, Sharon and Hayley for the delicious spit roast pork, Robin, Paul and our sons for their work, our guests for their gifts and company, and most of all to Jini, my lovely wife for her organising efforts and all the remaining food. Tomorrow, I will start to put some photos onto this blog so that people can see what a good time we had.

Now, I'm completely exhausted so it is off to bed.

Party Time

Preparations for The Party are well advanced. The male members of the family reach significant Birthdays this year that total 120 (I'm 60, the twins are 21 and Chris is 18). My Beloved has organised this do and invited everyone. The Pig Roast is organised and paid for (and arrives at 08:00 to morrow morning!), so it will be up and about with a mission tomorrow. Quite who is coming, I am pretty much in the dark. All I hope is that the weather is kind to us. It doesn't have to be sunny, but please, please let it be dry.

Pleasure and Heartache

The Large Hadron Collider seems to have started operating without the feared Black Hole appearing yet. Son-in-law Paul has written here that the world was very unlikely to come to an end this week and experience bears this out. I get seriously concerned by people whose level of understanding is such that they think we mere mortals are going to create Black Holes of the magnitude that will consume the planet on which we all live. Somewhere the education system is failing (and not just in the UK, I suspect)...

Much has appeared in the press about the effect of Mrs Sarah Palin and the article here from todays Independent is another such. My beloved wife voiced her feelings that she would not vote for John McCain knowing that if anything happened, this uniquely American lady would assume the reins of power, so I know I am not alone. Frankly, she frightens the crap out of me.

While mentioning my beloved, she has a significant birthday in 2010. She has suggested that she would like a holiday to which all the family could come for all or part of the time and I have to say that the idea appeals to me and those members of the family I have canvassed. A large Gite in France and a largish boat on the French canals have occurred as possibilities so far but I'm open to other ideas. Please add yours in the form of a comment...

The England football team finally got their act together last evening and thumped Croatia 4 - 1. The delight for me is that a 19 year old has finally shown all those overpaid wassocks how the job should be done. He even seems to have caused Wayne the Pain to show some life in an England shirt. And why does the England management keep persevering with one F Lampard? It beats me.

Another milestone

As a result of getting up a little earlier and thus getting to the pool a little earlier, I managed 50 lengths this morning. Something of a milestone achieved. Now I have to work out how many lengths make up a mile..... Hmmm my beloved has just come in and told me it is 64. How does she know that?

I got distinctly wet riding my bike to the pool, and I got rather wetter walking it home again. I must conduct an inquiry into who has nabbed my cycling waterproofs.

Swimming - more progress

On the 7th August I posted about my progress at swimming to improve my fitness. In that post, I reported that I'd managed to swim 30 lengths and was recovering more quickly. After a week in Cornwall, my improvement plateaued and any more than 30 lengths was beyond me. This week I have found myself able to swim lengths continuously, so in the time available, I've managed 40 or 42 lengths on several mornings. This is more than a kilometre. When I started, I thought that swimming a kilometre was something I would take several months to achieve and privately I had targeted Christmas to have achieved this milestone. As I only started swimming at the beginning of July I am well pleased and not a little surprised that I have got there so quickly.

Give him the job and he'll finish the tools..

So runs a famous school report from our metalwork master on a school friend of mine. To be fair it was a pretty fair summary of my friends practical skills. However the thought came back to me today as I decided to shorten the bike stand that has been standing idle in the garage and bolt it to the drive under our overhang, so that James and I can stand our bikes in the dry and lock them to something secured to the ground. It was a day for the BIG tools. The mains power drill got an outing (the battery powered hand drill just was not up to drilling holes in the paving blocks), and to shorten the bike rack, I resorted to the angle grinder in cutting mode. This is an amazing tool. I started with a hacksaw and while it would have done the job eventually, the grinder, armed with a metal cutting disc, went through the bike rack like the proverbial hot knife through butter. The shower of sparks the accompanies the cutting also adds a sense of drama. Pedestrians walking past the house paused to watch the show. It has to be used with some respect, I've no doubt that one could have a very nasty accident with it, but used properly, it was exactly the tool for the job.

Once the job was complete, I realised that I am forever grateful to Mr Jones, the splendid Welsh metalwork master at school, who patiently helped me master the techniques in using such tools.

Oh and as it has rained since my last post, I can confirm that the drip, drip, drip on the conservatory roof has ceased. Success!

Two finds in one day.

This morning, a man knocked on the door and offered to clean the windows. He looked round and then asked a reasonable price, so he got the job. During the course of his efforts I made him tea and then while we drank our tea I moaned about the leaking gutter. By now, I'd found out that his name is Charlie, and on hearing my moan, he immediately offered to help fix it.

Between us we spent an hour and a half confirming that the rubber seals on the union joining the two long runs of gutter had perished. Charlie recommended a supplier of the part needed and then I had to depart for a blood test and he went off to drum up some more trade. After my blood test, I set off to find the roofing supply company he recommended. It was in the back of beyond in the scruffiest part of Tyesley and took a while to find. They had the bit (it set me back £1.14, less than a third of what it would have cost in B&Q), and they made sure I had the right bit. I was impressed with them. They will get more of my custom.

Fitting the new union was simply and Charlie re-appeared at 5:30 to see that it had all gone satisfactorily. For all his efforts on the guttering, he was happy with £10 cash. What a bargain. Fortunately, I have his phone number if I need him again before he returns to clean the windows again in about 6 weeks.

It is to be assumed that Charlie's exist all over the land, but I feel fortunate to have bumped into my Birmingham Charlie today.

Ends and beginnings

The Beijing Olympics are over. the BBC coverage was brilliant and the best bit for me was the coverage of the final race in the 49er class sailing - high winds and the best sailors in the world trying (and generally failing) to keep their boats upright. The Danes triumphing in a borrowed boat as their mast broke just before the start. Absolutely brilliant television.

The long run-up to the London Olympics now starts and let us hope that the doubters and sceptics will keep their concerns to themselves and let those charged with delivering this greatest of spectacles get on with their mammoth task unhindered.

Chris has finished his schooling but decided that he can (and must) do better that the grades he achieved at A level. Somehow, I can't bring myself to agree with his analysis, but he must be supported, so whatever he chooses, he deserves my support. Good Luck, son.

Not much, really....

I see I have not posted for a week. My beloved will give up looking, or make some pointed comment (like she does on James's Blog) if I don't so here goes....

At long last it has stopped raining here in Cornwall. The place is packed with holidaymakers and , unlike the locals, none of them say "hello" or "Good morning" as you pass. Can't wait for them to go home.

I have done a fair bit of clearing up and tidying and I'm now awaiting Chris and Katie's arrival tomorrow. Let's hope the weather stays fine.

It's hard when you're young.

Results are out. Chris got what he needed to go to Sheffield, and yet he feels disappointed. He is disappointed that he did not do better and feels that he has somehow not fulfilled his potential. It may be true that he got the work/play balance slightly wrong but the grades he obtained are jolly good ones. He has the opportunity to learn a valuable lesson. Whether he will or not, is down to him.

As I write this, he is immersed in a long conversation with his sister. This I regard as a good sign. He has proved a good listener all day, starting with his teachers, I bought him coffee and he has thought about things. Secondly, his sister is Sensible with a capital S. She has been there, done that (when we're talking about going to University and getting a good degree), and Chris has great respect for her opinions. I am sure that whatever he decides to do at the end of all the deliberations will be the right thing for him.

Bless you son, and well done.

It isn't the plan that counts, it's the planning.

Tomorrow is A Levels result day. Chris, who will be getting his results, has a plan for his future that has me a little baffled, but it is his plan, and he seems to understand what he has to do to execute it. He explained it to me and I understood. What I don't quite understand are his motives. Still, there is some time for me to explore these once he has decided what to do.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

My daughter in her blog here admits to having Olympic fever. I haven't caught the fever yet, but I have started watching. Using the BBC web site, I watched a replay of the GB heavyweight eight row their heat to get into the final. I love watching a GB team crush the opposition. If you haven't seen it, it can be seen here. Immense superiority with minimum effort. Plenty of effort, but no more than was necessary. It must have done wonders for their confidence.

I'm not sure that Blake Aldridge will have won many friends by publicly blaming Tom Daley for their failure in the synchronised diving. Tom may or may not have had a bad day, but if you're a team, stick together.

The commentator on the swimming action when Rebecca Adlington had a brain/mouth interface failure during her Gold medal swim. Surely the BBC should send him off for some remedial training.