There’s Life In The Old Goat Yet

Storm Connor has elbowed Storm Barbara out of the way bringing cold, windy but dry weather.

Today it’s the Aston on Trent village walk. Aston on Trent is where I was brought up so I’ve done this walk many times and now only return when my old friend from way back at nursery school is back in the area and doing it too. We really ought to meet up at other times of the year rather than rely on meeting up here, which only happens every other year or so when we’re both not working. Perhaps this year we will.

The full walk is just over four miles although there are four escape routes off it that offer short cuts. Having both dogs with me, one of which is the fifteen year old Doggo, I have my eye on these but Doggo impressively manages the full distance. There’s life in the old goat yet.

I have to rush off a bit afterwards as there is a match. The Boxing Day fixture arrives a day late as Derby face a Rowett-less Birmingham City. I think everyone will be pleased that we scraped a 1-0 win leaving new manager Gianfranco Zola still searching for his first point.

(Tuesday 27^th December)

Perfect Sense

On the bike today while L rushes off to Manchester. I’m owed sex apparently which is obviously the best kind of debt to be owed. I really must update the Standing Order or perhaps consider starting a Direct Debit.

My colleague and I try to get lunch in the Brunswick but it is rammed and they are not taking any food orders that haven’t been pre-booked. I do love the way they don’t look after their regulars. The backup option, and always a very poor one, is the Waterfall. Their only beer is very poor quality Doom Bar, which is a very poor ale anyway even before they get their hands on it. Lunch is a toasted sandwich.

L rubs it in my texting from Manchester where she is having lunch with Daughter and drinking Lees Christmas Plum Porter.

Birmingham City sack Gary Rowett, the best manager they’ve had in a very long time and who currently has them one point outside the play off zone. Makes perfect sense. At least that’s one less rival for promotion that we have to worry.

Then it’s dogging but, as L is in Manchester, it’s dogging without a beer at the end of it.

(Wednesday 14^th December)

The Wheels Are Clearly Off

A slightly different Parkrun to chuck balls at today as L does Beeston for a change. I don’t participate as I am saving my legs for tomorrow's half marathon. L, evidently being so much fitter than me, has no such worries.

Derby lose 3-0 at home to Birmingham City. The wheels are clearly off.

My brother has invited us out for a meal for this birthday at the Engine Shed, which is the restaurant at the Roundhouse College in Derby where the students cook the meals. Tonight I think they are all former graduates doing the food, so it’s not cheese on toast all round.

It’s a decent AF option before the big race tomorrow but I do have a bottled Derby Brewery Beer and L’s on the go-faster prosecco. The meal is decent enough and outside it starts snowing...

(Saturday 16^th January) 

Richard III

Birmingham City don’t look like a side that lost 4-0 to Leeds last week. They come to us looking well organised and, well, tall. Very tall. They don’t give us much of a sniff and the game finishes 1-1. At least leaving Steve McClaren still unbeaten.

In the evening we visit Nottingham Playhouse to see Richard III. It's one of my favourite of Shakespeare's plays and also one of his best. Sadly it doesn’t seem to get performed as often as it should. So full credit to Nottingham Playhouse for taking advantage (hopefully) of Richard’s recently enhanced ‘media profile’ after the discovery of his remains and putting this production on.

 

Ian Bartholemew plays the scheming Richard, who murders his way to the throne, and plays him well. Evil b****rd that he is. Bartholemew adds humour to the role with a nice range of facial expressions to the audience, he has very active eyebrows, and a decent humpback. He also forgets his lines a couple of times and has to be prompted, which is a nice humanising touch. I can empathise with him. Despite knowing the story well, I still got lost in the Shakespearean mist a few times myself.

The set layout is interesting, providing a patio of gravestones for the cast to walk upon (or perhaps this signifies a Leicester car park) and full use is made of the auditorium, with the performance extending into both the stalls and up on to the balcony.

Richard of course dominates the play but the supporting cast are good too. It is staged with a modern, perhaps political, twist which mainly seems to revolve around the cast wearing updated clothing and I’m not sure that worked but it certainly didn’t distract from things.

There’s wit too or was it just me who thought that when Hastings's severed head was plonked upon the table it looked just like a bag of dirty washing.

Afterwards we have a few beers in the playhouse bar Cast where they are admirably promoting local breweries such as Magpie and Lincoln Green.

(Saturday 26^th October)