Cold Winds Blow

Wednesday, 2nd January

Today was back to work day after a decent spell off over xmas. The boys came in with fresh diseases acquired over the holidays and promptly began to cough and sneeze their way through the day. The students were still off (as were most self-respecting academics).

It was also very dark and cold today. There's a load of cold winds coming over from Russia over the next few days they say and they've (the experts) predicted snow. Hope it snows really severely and they close Chesterfield train station again. It was such a terrible, terrible shame when they closed it during June's mega-floods and I had to turn around and go back home (not before getting a refund for the ticket I'd bought).

I drew an illustration of a fat patient being called in to a consultation room by a thin carer for use in a learning object we're making for use in an obesity project. I'm being paid to do the rest hopefully so that could be nice little bonus.

Met Tom for lunch. The food on offer at the canteen at 'The heart of the Campus' was very limited, probably due to the fact that they weren't expecting much custom. Me and Tom had baked potatoes with tuna mayo on. Yum. Charlotte was out looking at prospective new houses for them to rent come February.

Lisa had a busy day walking around, buying things and tidying up and was proud describe to me how she'd walked across the nursery floor several times using just her bottom. I saw a demonstration when I got home

Dad emailed us to say that Vally is apparently poorly so he's not sure if they'll be up at the weekend. He then went on to say she was a tough old bird so not to write off our engagement quite yet. The snow may also have a say in it I suppose if it does arrive.

Ali rang. She's coming up with Daisy tomorrow to see Lisa

They are apparently more scared of you than you are of them

How great it is to wake up without a hangover on New Year's Day. Unfortunately this means that my holidays are almost over and work beckons for me tomorrow.

Whilst feeding the ducks today, we noticed there WAS a sign (albeit a small one) which said please don't feed the ducks etc. I think this may be a case of what Billy Connolly refers to as 'beigeism'. Anyway, we fed them anyway. It said that the bread was bad for the ducks. Surely not??

Did two boring, but satisfying jobs today. One was tidying out the cellar and throwing away all the junk which had been living there. The cellar, incidentally, is very small and the ceiling's not very high so you have to stoop and there's cobwebs and stuff dangling down into your hair and it's also a little spider sanctuary too.

After I'd finished enjoying the arachnotherapy, I moved onto my second job, tidying my wardrobe. Another ominous task. I managed to throw away lots of clothes which I simply don't wear. Me and Lisa have really perfected this decluttering malarkey and I think I owe a lot to crap tv programmes for teaching me how.

Mum and Graham popped in for a cup of tea on the way home from birdwatching somewhere. They were apparently on the trail of some rare bird that they'd been tipped off had been seen frequenting somewhere local. Not a nice day for birdwatching, or being outside at all really.
Mum's wondering how to kick-start her pilates business now she is a qualified pilates tutor and Graham's going to be maintaining her website.

We watched Casino Royale tonight. I hadn't seen a Bond film for years after boycotting Pierce Brosnan and his annoyingness. I have to say it was quite good although it's a shame the whole film couldn't have been more like the opening 10 minute chase. Ah well. It was also good to see the Daniel Craig “trunks scene” I'd heard so much about from the ladies in my office. I overheard one of them boasting to a colleague that their husband had the same body as him. I now doubt the accuracy of her statement. It was the wine talking I think. Anyway, just for the record, I don't fancy Daniel Craig. Or any of the James Bond actors. Or any men for that matter.

Man cannot live on curries alone. Or can he?

Last night I dreamed that I was living in some shared, rented accommodation and one of my house mates said “Oh Luke, you've got some post” and it was a cheque from Sky Sports for £328. I wonder what it all means? Does it mean I'm about to come into some money perhaps? Or maybe I'm just subconsciously mourning the recent loss of our sky sports subscription. Lisa cancelled it along with other so-called “non-essential direct debits” whilst ruthlessly streamlining our outgoings

Lazy bones didn't go for a run (again).

In Tesco a woman in front of us in the dairy products aisle who was in her own little world turned around and put a tub of cream into our trolley. Her husband who was over the other side of the aisle said “No, not there, not there!” but he was too late. She turned around wondering what all the fuss was about and he sunk his ashamed face into his hand. We moved swiftly on.
Pineapples were half price in the supermarket (and they were huge) so we bought two which we have heard/read are good for naturally inducing labour.

For tea Lisa made ANOTHER curry. I'm not complaining. I could happily live on curry for the rest of my days. This one was another one from the ultimate curry bible – this time a Lamb Sag.
I devised a short walk route for myself and Lisa this afternoon which happened to be exactly 2 miles and just happened to take in a quick drink in the Royal Oak on the way back. Magic.

And so another year comes to an end. We watched the Billy Connolly DVD Lisa had bought me for xmas and then Noel and Claire called around and we watched the greatest 80's films which culminated in Back to the Future occupying the number one slot. Good film. Well deserved.
I didn't get too drunk:

• in case Lisa went into labour
• due to the fact that I didn't want a hangover on New Year's Day this year
• due to me planning to go running in the morning and being all smug whilst people looked out through the curtains on their alcohol inspired death-beds and wished they were me instead. Just for the record, it didn't happen. I had a lie in and no running happened whatsoever.

I found myself wondering what life would be like in 15 years' time. This baby would be getting very expensive by then I imagine and I laugh at scenes in Jack Dee's Lead Balloon each week where his daughter asks him for money in new inventive ways and he ends up forking out £50 each time. What kind of job am I going to have in 15 years? Am I even going to have a job? Am I going to be able to sustain effective financial support for the family to be? I just can't picture it. I shall have to make a concerted effort, to, hang on, I feel new year's resolutions coming on!

New Year's Resolutions...

1.Make a start on my picture book “I hate it when you make me late” for this will not simply write itself
2.Cut down on the wine drinking. This may require me to stop ordering nice crates of fancy wine
3.Continue to be frugal with my hard-earned cash (I know that's a bit vague, but I'm afraid it'll have to do)
4.Do more running
5.Not moan about the crappy moving irregular floorboards buried beneath the carpets all over this house

Where do you go to buy the perfect diary?

I had planned to go for a run this morning but didn't due to oversleeping. Ah, the joys of the holiday and no alarm clock. With no real plans for the day, we got up and had some breakfast then took off for the park with an entire unopened loaf of stale bread. Ducks don't seem to be that selective when it comes to best before dates. A mother and two kids came along to our normal feeding point so I offered them a couple of slices. The mother hesitated then accepted our offer. After throwing a slice's worth into the lake she said “Are we allowed to do this? I thought they'd stopped us?”. We felt like secret duck-feeding rebels raging against the system. Throwing it despite the severe consequences of being caught supplementing park-based birds' diets.

Afterwards, we proceeded into town to potter around. Suffering from mild caffeine withdrawal symptoms, I insisted we went into Cafe Nero which has taken the place of Chesterfield's old independent bookshop, 'Peak Bookshop'. I got a takeaway Latte and Lisa didn't have anything. She'd been in before with a girlfriend. And she boasted, they'd sat in for it too.

We scoured the shops for a suitable journal/diary which I could fill with the forthcoming year's ramblings. I had very specific criteria which we had great difficulty fulfilling. The diary purchased needed to:

• look nice
• be hard-wearing and thus, hard back
• be spiral bound so you could lie it flat whilst writing in it (I failed miserable on this front. The only spiral bound ones were either too girlie or they had playboy plastered all over them)
• have lines but not lines that were too close together because that wouldn't give you enough room to write properly

I ended up buying one (the one this is in!) in WHSmith in the sale. I am thinking that I might actually illustrate this diary with photos too to make it extra nice. Watch this space. You have been warned.
After we got back and had some food we popped to Tesco and I bought a printer having decided that I couldn't face looking back at a year's worth of ramblings in my crappy handwriting. Besides I may not even be able to decipher the code in a year's time anyway.

Lisa concocted another curry for tea. It was a really spicy number with lots of coriander and garlic and ginger and tomato. It was “green coriander chicken” from Madhur Jaffrey's ultimate curry bible. Lisa's thinking of making it for Dad and Vally when they come up on the 4th Jan.

This evening we watched a film which lots of people had recommended. My boss, Frances had said it was really good. I was sceptical since it seemed like another American Pie type film which was just about some American teenager trying 'to get laid'. Anyway, we put our prejudices aside and Lisa rejoined Blockbuster and we hired it. I can't remember the last time we HIRED A VIDEO FROM BLOCKBUSTER. Anyway, it was "Knocked Up"

...and it was pretty entertaining even though it took me most of the film to get over the crippling realisation that the main bloke in it totally reminded me of one of my lazy irresponsible students, Brett (Frances calls him 'Bratt') at work.