Keep Washing Your Hands

They tell us to keep thoroughly washing our hands to avoid contracting the Coronavirus, now given the name COVID-19 by the WHO, which is all good advice and what we should be doing anyway. They also tell us not to touch our faces which isn’t so easy. I mean, have you tried putting in contact lenses without touching your face. Suddenly it takes far longer to get ready for work in the mornings.

Sainsbury's are late sending out my new visa card and have blocked my old card before the new one has arrived meaning I have to pay for today’s shopping on a different card. This loses me about 90 Nectar points or meagre 45p. I ring them up more to ask where the new card is rather than to complain about the lost points, although I do have a small whinge, and they credit my account with 18,000 points. That's about £90. So, it does pay to complain...massively.

I manage to cycle on Tuesday and it was hard work in the still strong winds but then I am so unfit at the moment.

L skips running club saying that she doesn’t want to be faffing around with doing intervals at the club now she’s a proper athlete and running from home will give her more hoover time even when it turns out to be 10k in the rain. I’ve never known anyone get so excited about a new hoover.

She's looking forward to a night on her own with her new gadget while the boys and I are at dog training. She's never this keen to get alone with me...

On Wednesday she is London for work, which is another icy morning. A day in London with her boss probably means another day of crap eating. He’s the one who bought her four crème eggs and a bar of dairy milk for lunch the other day. There’s none of your five a day in there and most of it makes its way home to me where it goes in my not-so-secret secret drawer. 

In the evening I meet up with a friend of mine after work. Instead of going to the pub, we meet at the Derby Winter Beer Festival at the Roundhouse.

On Thursday L does go to her club while I run from 14 miles from work. 

(Thursday 20^th February)

Self-Deprecating Humour

L responds to my query about whether she enjoyed herself at the gym on Friday morning by saying she did but she felt less gym bunny and more gym bag. Ha ha. I do love the self-deprecating humour.

In the evening I offer her a run. Yes, with me! Like the old days, a retro one around our old loop. The Derby Road loop circa 1997. She says she's happy to take the dogs. I say I’m happy to not take the dogs...

We go dog free and it seems to go well. Just like the old days we end up in bed afterwards where we finally break open the bottle of Grey Goose from Christmas.

On Saturday we head over and do Leamington parkrun. L’s done it a few times but it’s the first time Daughter and I have done it. The off road course isn’t as bad as I feared because the ground is very firm. Afterwards we meet Son and his gf for breakfast in the delightfully named Fat Birds Café.

In the evening we do our second Beer Festival in eight days as we head over to the Derby Beer Festival for a ‘moderate’ session. I do have a sixteen and a half mile run tomorrow but this strategy seemed to work quite well at Prestwold last weekend. 

My beers - Brass Castle Saltwater Taffy Brown Bitter 4.5% (N. Yorks), Yeovil Night Train Porter 6.0% (Somerset), Downlands Devils Dyke Porter 5.0% (West Sussex), Double Top Madhouse Porter 5.2% (Notts) and Harbour Puppy Porter 4.6% (Cornwall).

L’s beers - Brass Castle Quench Pale Ale 3.2% (N. Yorks), Black Storm Porter 5.2% (Tyne & Wear) and Brass Castle Saltwater Taffy Brown Bitter 4.5% (N. Yorks).

(Saturday 23^rd February)

My Own Personal Chauffeur

L’s spending a day working from home, entertaining the boiler repairman and of course the dogs. I think she’s already regretting it, dog wise. I'm sure they’ll be asleep soon.

I get the CityLink bus again, which is fine. It’s just me, again, and my own personal chauffeur.

The boiler man comes and goes. He hasn’t got the parts with him that he needs. I think we saw that one coming. He leaves us sort of working. I would hope so; it was sort of working before he arrived.

L suggests that after the beer festival tonight, we come home and have Chinese noodles and prawn crackers with the dogs. It was a good job she said that now, otherwise I would have dismissed it later as a drunken request.

We’re at Derby Winter Beer Festival, at the Roundhouse, and I meet L there after work. It seemed better this year, the beer seems more in order this time, whereas last year they seemed to have been racked in some top secret (or random) order. Apart from a few missing beers, which I assume have run out or not arrived, I find everything I’m looking for.

Then, late in the evening, I venture into the back room where the A’s and B’s are held, only to find another selection of ‘Championship’ beers including all the missing ones. They’ve done it to me again and now there’s not much time to catch up.

I think L only has 3 beers all night, partly because I end up drinking a few of hers she didn’t like. I'm good like that. Instead of the beers she has several glasses of mead.

Me

Thornbridge, Craft Union 5.0% (half)                 

Muirhouse, Drum Patientia Franco 6.0% (half)         

Peak Ales, Noggin Filler 5.0% (half)           

Hoggleys, Solstice Stout 5.0% (third)          

North Star, Polaris XB Winter Porter 5.2% (third)    

North Star, Devils Deadly Weapon 6.6% (third)  

By The Horns, Diamond Geezer Red 5.5% (half)   

Nobby's, Tow'd Navigation 6.1% (third)         

Grainstore, Rutland Beast 5.3% (half)          

Raw, Empire Ghost 5.9% (half)            

L

Worthington, White Shield 5.6% (third)         

Stocklinch, Black Smock 5.0% (third)                 

Grainstore, Rutland Beast 5.3% (third)         

Mead, Mead. Mead...

Now for those noodles.

(Friday 22^nd February)

At The Alter

It’s too packed in the Brunswick for lunch, we’re told there’s a 45 minute wait for food at least. This is because it’s the Derby Winter Beer festival, although I’ve never really understood why everyone hits the pub first. We decamp to the Waterfall which is completely empty, as usual, but the food is ok and swift.

Later, after an hour or more entertaining the boys, I head into town to meet L. We go for a drink first, in the Hand and Heart, before heading off to the Rescue Rooms. 

We arrive to find ‘Three Blind Wolves’ on stage, looking a bit hemmed in. Being the first of three bands, they don’t seem to have been left much space. They sound distinctly American and for a second I think they have Craig Finn of the Hold Steady playing with them but nope, that’s definitely a Scottish accent. They’re another band off the prolific Glasgow production line, albeit playing some, sort of messy, countrified rock complete with what appears to be the odd barbershop harmony. They’re a lively bunch though, with a very animated front man and some interesting tunes.

They’re also overrunning... as by consequence are Canada’s Wintersleep, all the way from Nova Scotia. Wintersleep have been around forever, or at least they appear to have been. I saw them back in 2009 playing with the Editors but I don't recall them leaving much of an impression.

They have an air about them that says ‘we’re been around forever and we know what we’re doing’ so their set is certainly competent, full of catchy boppy tunes. Perhaps their only crime is that they think they're headlining or at least wished they were, hence the later than expected start time. Not really their fault I guess. Anyhow I was really enjoying their short but sweet set until they ruined it with a rather self indulgent last track finale. 

 

When Frightened Rabbit take the stage, or is it an alter, it’s a very religiously inspired stage, it is to a big appreciative cheer. The F-Rabbit faithful are ready to worship at that alter/stage and appropriately the band open with the boisterous ‘Holy’. Now the Rabbits do religion, sort of.

Then with no messing, it’s into the classic ‘The Modern Leper’, followed by something to ‘dance’ to in ‘Old Old Fashioned’. Not one of my favourites, but it’s popular.

Then we’re back to the new album ‘Pedestrian Verse’ and ‘Late March, Death March’, which we’re told is about arguments during the walk home from the pub. So at least it’s not all religion then and it’s good to know we’re still having girl problems.

As you would expect, a lot of the set is taken from their rather excellent fourth album. Which is a slightly more upbeat selection of downbeat misery but then I suppose 2010’s ‘The Winter of Mixed Drinks’ was too. Only this time, the main man, Scott Hutchison is back to his poetic best and excels himself with the lyrical depth that he puts into the songs. It’s an album that has finally taken them into the top 10 and the recognition they’ve deserved for years. Those rabbits have finally emerged from the warren blinking into the sunlight, although I did have quite a soft spot for that warren.

The new material ‘December's Traditions’, ‘Backyard Skulls’, ‘Dead Now’ etc, sit well alongside the older material and the band are on fine form throughout, at times impressively using four guitars plus a bass guitar to fashion out their sound.

Hutchinson straight bats the many requests, saying we work to a setlist you know and letting the crowd play what he calls ‘setlist bingo’ e.g. keep shouting until you reach the song he was going to play anyway.

They didn't used to of course, have a setlist I mean. Back in the day, they used to make the setlist up as they went along. It was part of their charm. My favourite FR gig is still the first time I saw them at Leicester’s Musician, unplugged, and the setlist finished after about 6 songs, then they took requests.

They’re more polished these days, which is a little sad, as it was the rough edges and the cosy, shambolic feel that I used to like about them but there’s still the Hutchison humour, they still do the amazing ‘My Backwards Walk’ as well as now having some equally amazing new songs such as ‘State Hospital’, their single from last year.

We do get an acoustic moment. Standing alone on the stage, Hutchison plays a splendid ‘Poke’. Then Andy Monaghan rejoins for an impressive ‘Good Arms vs. Bad Arms’ and then two thirds through the rest of the band return to finish it off.

If anything there’s too much tonight from 'The Midnight Organ Fight’, sadly nothing is played from their debut ‘Sing the Greys’ and I would have said not much from their third either until two more surface in the encore, taking the compliment to a respectable four as ‘Living in Colour’ and ‘The Loneliness and the Scream’ bring to a close tonight’s service in the church of the Frightened Rabbit.

They were good, excellent in fact, but I’d still hark back to saying those disorganised, make it up as you go along nights were the best.

(Thursday 21^st February)

A Confusing Version Of The Alphabet

British Gas have talked us into fitting a filter to our hot water system, if we don’t, they have threatened (gently) to revoke the service contact for our boiler. Isn’t that called blackmail?

Therefore L works from home today, so that someone can come and fit said filter. The guy turns up but without the filter... which is really useful, as this is the only reason for him coming. He promises to be back in an hour, once he’s acquired it.

Only he isn’t. He telephones me to say he’s not coming back because he can't get the part. The part that was the reason for the appointment... So, that’s the second day of ours that British Gas has wasted this year and we’re only just into February. I ring to complain but get absolutely nowhere with their call centre, where the right hand clearly doesn’t know what the left hand is doing, let alone what the hands of it’s engineers aren't doing.

I daren't ask L to be in the next time they come, she'll do serious harm to the engineer with one of her knitting needles.

We both need a drink after that. So it’s a good job it’s the Derby Winter Beer Festival tonight. L comes over on the bus and I meet her there, at the Roundhouse, which is just a short crawl from where I work.

There is a good selection of beers, decent chilli con carne and some good cheeses as well. So a top night apart from a confusing use of the alphabet. The beers are supposed to be in alphabetical order but I think the organiser had had a few when he set them out.

Some beers seemed to be randomly inserted e.g. a Gloucester beer among the ‘B’s. We also found a lot of beers that were listing were missing but then found them on a ‘dark ales’ stall in another room or on the separate ‘Derbyshire’ stall and all the Marstons beers were amongst the T’s for some reason... We were confused, others were confused, even the staff seemed confused. Can we have a map next time please or else I might have to not drink so that I can unravel the system.

My favourite brew, Snecklifter (not that I had any but L had two pints!), was also listed as Marston’s from Staffordshire, that’s just plain wrong. It’s either Marston’s Jennings Brewery from Cumbria or Jennings Brewery (owned by Marston’s) from Cumbria.

Marstons to my knowledge, do not brew a drop of Snecklifter in Burton. Same goes for Ringwood’s Old Thumper, also listed as Staffordshire. It’s hard to criticise breweries for deceptive labelling when beer festivals are at it as well.

This is what we drank, although L cunningly mixed halves and thirds to stay more sober than me.

Me

1. Copthorne Black Beauty 4.6%
2. Elland 1872 Porter 6.5%
3. Raw Dark Peak Reserve 6.0%
4. Great Oakley Delapre Dark 4.6%
5. Nutbrook More 4.8%
6. Townes Pynot Porter 4.5%
7. Grainstore Nip 7.3%
8. Fulstow Sledgehammer Stout 7.4%
9. Steel City Dark Funeral 5.3%

L

1. Jennings Snecklifter 5.1%
2. Griffin Bmw 5.0%
3. Five Towns Winter Warmer 5.7%
4. Jennings Snecklifter 5.1%
5. Thornbridge St Petersberg Stout 7.4%
6. Jennings Snecklifter 5.1%
7. Nobbys T-owd Navigation 6.1%
8. Jennings Snecklifter 5.1%
9. Parish Bazs Bonce Blower 12%

(Thursday 16th February)

Sabotage?

I take the dogs out again this morning and L will be pleased to know one of them was a bit gobby. So he doesn’t just save it for her.

L was at the gym, where she is convinced that someone has been going around tightening the treadmills. Sabotage? I’m not sure that I understand what she means.

She says they’ve become harder to run on. Perhaps she’s just having a mini fitness crisis. Me too! I think we’re both still reeling from our Sleaford ‘training’ run. I did consider running myself this morning but I wasn't sure that the old legs would have been up for it. It must have been all that Lincolnshire mud.

It is Derby’s Winter Beer Festival tonight, which has been moved to the Roundhouse College from it's old home in the Darwin Suite of the Assembly Rooms.



I go straight from work and arrange to meet L inside. The Roundhouse is a good venue for a beer festival except for the fact that with it being round in shape there are no corners to slump in after you’ve had too many 8%ers.

According to the beer list there’s an 11%er from Burton Bridge. L likes to start with a good one, perhaps I’ll get her one in. Then again, perhaps we best leave that until last.

I’m 2-0 up by the time L arrives but she soon sets about reducing the deficit. Good job she eased herself back in with a glass of wine the other night after going temporarily teetotal after Scotland.

My father pops down to join us, except he can’t get in. It’s only just after 8.00 and the venue is full. Instead we talk through the iron railings. If you’ve ever been to the Roundhouse, it's a bit like a prison with its high fences and security controlled gates. Presumably its all to stop the students escaping. Good to see the college is taking education seriously. It’s a shame he can’t get in but good for his wallet. Its £5 to get in and no reduction for OAP’s, yet if you’re under 26 you get in free.

We leave just after 9.30 because the beer range is already starting to reduce alarmingly quickly. If you were planning to come down Saturday... sorry, we drank all the good stuff.

(Friday 25th February)