Christmas

It's passed midnight so it must be Christmas! Well have a good one wherever you are. If all goes to plan, the kids will get up at 7am (bets on that Isabelle who normally doesn't surface until 11am will forget she is a cool 12 year old and be first out of bed waiting to open the pressies).
7.15am after a cup of something hot and wet open a few and take the dog out and make a start on the dinner. We have go 20 coming for lunch, although some are minors and never eat what you give them anyway. They would be better off with a packet of crisps, a bottle of coke and a Fab lolly than eating proper food.
9am read all the manual for the latest gadgets and test my knowledge of the Korean language.
10am Off to Spott Church for the Christmas service. Yes Spott is a place and it is a nice spot. Truth be known, this sister church of Belhaven where we worship starts earlier, which fits better for the rest of the days activities. Plus it has a choir that does a few carols to make it feel like Christmas has arrived!
11am Emma's mum and dads for coffee with all the relatives. I say coffee...that usually follows various other drinks on offer. Most of which have some levels of alcohol.
1pm head home by foot or motor (depending on what tipples we have had) and start the dinner.
3pm Family arrive, more drinks, more food and eventually sit down and eat. I nicked a couple of tables from church to fit us all in. i also picked up a bale of hay for the guniea pigs. It had been used fo rthe nativity and was going to waste. Bargain!
5pm Washing up or recline to the back room with the men, but it depends on whether they bore me to death with credit crunch conversation or not. I have been known to wash things in alphabetical order to kill time whilst the 'what about these immigrants' conversation passes.
6pm Around about now it's the Dr Who special. Hopefully silence and even a snooze.
9pm and any time thereafter everyone goes and leaves us to it.

That's the plan, but anything can happen.

Happy Christmas!

Vicar of Dibley

I had one of those Vicar of Dibley Christmas Special moments today. You know the one where she ends up having several Christmas dinners. Having just finished a fairly large sunday roast lunch at 4pm, I was at the Methodist Church at 6.30pm for a Christmas supper. I was expecting a few egg sarnies and sausage rolls, but on arrival it became clear this was going to be a full sit down meal of steak pie. However, as an invited guest i could hardly turn it down. I felt like one of those geese that are farmed to produce foie gras as yet anothe rmince pie was pushed down my throat, washed down with a glass of tangerine fizz!
After the feast, it was into the church for the carol service and nativity play. The play was written by one of the kids and involved all the local kids who did well in front of the packed church. The highlight had to be the band. 3 old blokes in black shirts, one strumming a bass, one strumming the drums, and one pressing the 'play' button on his midi file playing keyboard. The sound was as cheesy as my socks, and they kept putting the wrong one) one. At one point we were trying to sing 'Away in a Manger' to the tune of the Calypso carol ('See Him Lying on a Bed of Straw'). Yet, this informality made for a great service with lots of laughs and a different way to mark the festivities.

He's behind you!

Just got back from the annual sunday school trip to the panto in Musselbugh. It's a good local show, not like these big name things they have in big venues. The cast has been more or less the same for the last 5 years. I always like to read the programme to see what these actors do all year round. Under the section 'tv work' they all read "Take the High Road', 'River City' 'Taggart' and extra's in Chewing the Fat. But who cares, they put a good show on. We had really good seats, just 2 rows from the front. Good, that is, until the bit in the panto where they are looking for a victim to go on stage. Guess who was sat on the end of the row and effectively easy pickings for drag queen on stage? Guess no further, it was me, and before I knew it, I was on stage doing a fitness routine that involved me bending over in front of the queen. The phrase, 'he's behind you' had a new meaning for me. I then had to kiss her/him....heshe...all in front of my sunday school and minister...no tongues you understand!

Of course in days of old, the shoe was on the other foot. I don't mean I had sexuality issues, but I performed in at least 2 panto's, including one where I was playing an ugly sister. Love them or hate them I am glad to see they are still going strong. I think the most memorable one I went to was with Jonny Wooldridge, when we went to the Mormon Church Panto. He was on the pull and she was the lead role, and at one point he ended up singing 'Careless Whisper' to her on stage. The Mormons don't drink caffine, and but how was I to know when I asked for a cuppa at the interval!

For the record

Photo: You would never guess they are mother and daughter would you?


Here's some other stuff we have been up to..

Andrew had a good game of footy against Celtic Boys. Although Dunbar colts lost 7-2, Andrew scored and got man of the match for it. It's good to see him on form again after being dropped by Aberdeen FC. The next day Isabelle & Emma did the first cross country race of the season. It was really muddy and they both did well. I had to miss it because I did not want to risk my back injury flaring up. So I did a video of it instead.
Me and Emma headed off to the Rotary Club ball the other night. The 'whose who' of Dunbar were out in force for a meal and a dance. Isabelle turned 12. Our Sarah has had a baby and Emma's sister Claire has had a baby, by natural methods after spending loads of £'s on unsuccessful IVF. We will look forward to them all coming to for Christmas lunch with the other 19. Talking of Christmas, I have been asked to give the address at the Episcopal Church Service on Christmas Eve. That is a big job as it genuinely is the one time of year people go to the church...and more specifically to that service. Finally I went on the most expensive shopping trip I have had in a while today. We bought a new car...delivery due Tuesday.

Let there be light

Photo: My picture on the BBC News website last week.



I made a decision early on that I would try and get involved in the community here whenever I could. Dunbar is the kind of place that still holds on to that community spirit that many towns have lost and if people don't work at it then it is in danger of losing what can be good about it. Last week a sign appeared on the high street asking for volunteers with the Christmas Lights. The lights are a big thing here...the best for miles! I turned up at the old Corn Exchange at 8.30am, and there as already a hive of activity going on. It was quite surreal seeing all the decorations laid out ready for transfer to the top of a lamp post. The snowmen were lined up by the door as if they were trying to escape. The chimney, with Santa stuck up it was there along side the slightly dated looking 'Dunbar Lights' sign. Within the week they would be transforming the dull looking high street into a festive treat.
The community spirit was caught in the range of volunteers helping put. The lifeboat crew, the Rotary Club, the green grocer, the spud farmer, cops, fishermen...and a youthworker! Before the lights went out there was testing to be done. As many were slightly damp having been kept in storage all year, a few went snap, crackle and pop! I had every confidence in the farmers wife doing the testing, until I learnt she knows 'the basics' of electronics. Outside, a fleet of vehicles called 'cherry pickers' were in use hoisting up volunteers to the roof tops to put up the lights. With 'cherry picking' having another meaning I was slightly amused to see the Angel Gabriel and Rudolph both being 'cherry picked'. Fortunately it wasn't Mary as that could have ruined the story of the virgin birth.
Then at around 10am, everyone downed tools and headed for the local Central Cafe, where free bacon rolls and tea were on offer. I managed to get a few snaps of it all, and I sent one in to the BBC news website. To my delight it got selected and used for the photo of the day. The big switch on is Sunday night, and I expect a few thousand will come out for it. I just hope that lot I put up work.

Nicole is dumped

Photo: Kristin, my new friend


The back trouble I have been having has brought some new women into my life. First there was Judith the physio who had me down to my undies within 10 minutes of meeting her. When she told me to get undressed she did check that I had undies on as some of her clients have been known to go commando. Her advice was to do a bit of pilates. She and several other people gave me the names of good instructors, and I had several invites to join some classes. I just could not bring myself to do it. The thought of lying on the floor alongside lots of misshapen women was not one to savour. Also, pilates is a fine way of releasing any trumps you have brewing. I don't have much trouble releasing them in normal conditions, so it would be unfair to gas all these poor souls. Instead i opted for videos.
What better place to find videos than Youtube. Some people were giving me funny looks when I told them that i had found some pilates classes on Youtube, as they wrongly thought it is a website dedicated to filth and dodgy videos. I could see nothing wrong with my video, I am sure it is perfectly normal to do pilates in the buff! Anyway the main benefit of it is that you can stay at home and enjoy the company of Nicole . Nicole's little moves really hit the spot and within a few weeks my back was getting much better. But the relationship was beginning to get a bit stale. She just kept doing the same old stuff and I felt it was about time to part company. So I dumped her for a better model, Kristin. Kristin is the new woman in my life. I found her on a dusty old DVD that we had acquired from somewhere...i don't know where. Anyway she is MTV's pilates instructor and is really putting me through the paces. I can't keep up with her, and my legs won't bend like hers, but she is getting results, although I am not sure I can meet her demand to meet with her 3-5 times a week.

The good news is that all these women have helped me get back into to reasonable health. I managed the town run tonight (6-7 miles) without any discomfort, so I am going to build it up slowly. I've opted out of the cross country for now, as it starts on Sunday.

Mad weekend

Photo: Whoooo! Not the Adams family, just mine.

Some weekends are just too busy. It all started on friday with Halloween. After last years nightmare experience of 'guising' I could not bring myself to do it again. Fortunately it was chucking it down and really cold and windy so only Isabelle wanted to do it and there was no way she wanted one of us with her. Off she went with all her friends looking not much different to what they do first thing in the morning when they have rushed out of the house with brushing their hair. Stuart & Andrew were at a disco and a sleep over...not the same one as that would make my life too easy. Isabelle returned armed with a big bag of sweets which we all helped her eat.

Saturday is now taken up with Andrew playing footy and Isabelle playing hockey usually at the same time. I went to the footy and it as a good result 5-3 against Musselburgh. The hockey didn't go quite as well but Isabelle is enjoying it regardless. Then it was more footy as Dunbar United were playing a cup game that had already been rescheduled 3 times. It's the original football experience, pie, raffle ticket, horrible tea and lots of abusive fans. There's two old gits who really raise the level for shouting abuse at the ref. Then to add to the action a minor scuffle broke out with the two managers and other hanger-onners, with the ref having to intervene. Dunbar lost the game in the last minute of injury time which was very disappointing. After the game there was more fireworks....real ones this time. The annual Round Table display brought in the crowds to the football ground. I only go to see who is there as fireworks are pretty boring...apart from the last big one they always have. This years was even more spectacular because it failed to take off, and exploded leaving a small crater on the pitch and showering the crowd with hot embers. Surpisingly...miraculously there were no injuries except some skater boy whose hair got singed. He needed it cutting anyway as he looked like a big girl with that long hair! Then it was back home to wind down watching Casualty.

Sunday was the leaving service for one of our ministers Paddy. Whilst I was there on business, I would have gone anyway as she's been a good minister and very supportive of my work. The service also included communion and a baptism and an AGM. it was a long haul but we were rewarded by one of those church meals. It sounds horrible but fish lasagne is very nice and so is lime and kiwi cheesecake. After the service it was a rush to Prestonpans for a youth event that lasted all day. Back in desperate need of a drink to sign off the weekend, but only Baily's was available so that's what I got..on the rocks!

Nutter on the Bus

We had a family day out to Tynecastle on Saturday to watch Hearts play Aberdeen. This was the second fixture I had seen of these two teams this year, only this the players were Lithuanian men, rather than under 11 year old lads. A couple of people at church had season tickets and couldn't make the game themselves so we got to go.

We decided to get the park and ride bus. It's ages since I have been on a bus because I never need to go anywhere, and if I do it's usually in the car. Bus journeys are a great place to watch people, and they are also sanctuary's for nutters. Jasper Carrot once did a really good sketch called the Nutter on the Bus. It has always stuck in my memory that sketch because it is true, and here we are on the 44 from Wallyford to Gorgie when one gets on. As he got on you could see him hunting out his prey. I was sat at the back with Stuart but Emma was on her own and may has well have put a big sign on her head saying 'nutter lover'. Sure enough Ronald made a bee line for her and that was her stuck with him until one of his carers who was off duty got on the bus. She then became a distraction and we were able to rescue Emma.

Because of the tram works it took ages to get to Tynecastle and we were late. Not knowing the ground we went through the turnstiles and realised we were in the wrong end. I asked a Pole for directions but I just got a blank look. Then the senior steward ( I knew that because he spoke English) came over and started tutting because he sussed out they were not our tickets. There was no pulling the wool over his eyes that I was 'Miriam Black'. He proceeded to tell us how we could be in trouble with Lothian & Borders police...blah blah blah, but obviously realised we were actually nice people and escorted us to our seats. The game was as blustery as the weather. Lots of rowdy Aberdeen fans on the receiving end of taunts and songs about sheep! I really didn't care who won, and the 1-1 result, including a disallowed penalty made for a good game.

Back on the bus I was reminded of the other regular travellers of buses...drunks! 2 blokes absolutely steaming got on and sat at the back of the bus drinking and chatting up some poor girl who had made the mistake of sitting at the back of the bus upstairs. She might as well of put a big sign up on her head saying 'I love getting into dangerous situations that are hard to get out of'. But modern bus travel has a new feature that adds to the experience. CCTV and screens to watch what everyone else on the bus is doing. It's great, you can watch drunks without having to actually make eye contact with them and risk being drawn into inane conversation about people they hate. We finally made it back to Wallyford, our feet stinking of ale as the drunks had spilt theirs, and it was flowing up and down the bus..(at least I think it was ale...a sort of brownie yellow liquid that had a pungent smell!).

Pond Life

The old back was beginning to ease off..80% right I felt until Sunday when I went and helped out clean up the community lily pond. This involved chopping off loads of branches and trees and reclaiming a huge area that was once a pond, but has been left to ruin. There was a great sense of satisfaction in doing the clearing but all along I was ignoring the alarm bells that this might actually set my recovery back. Sure enough...'just one more log and I'm gone'. It was one log too many and now it's agony again. That said, the pilates has made a big difference and my core stability is improving slowly so I reckon I could be fit soon. I need to get fit as Emma is now running better than I am. She is looking forward to taking part in the cross country season, whereas I will be holding the coats this time. Boo!

I hate maths

Picture: O Level Pottery was really a lot of fun but completely useless to me.


I knew this would happen. Isabelle goes to secondary school and suddenly accelerates her learning and brings homework back for us to help her with. There's a fault in the system though, parents don't know how to do it. Emma has bought some books but I am already lost and feeling pretty helpless on her maths. In fact the boys are also bringing home work that I really have to scratch my head over to work out. I tried to point out to them how bad it was. At school there were O levels and below that CSE's. I got a 3 at CSE maths. 'What other subjects did you get then?' asks Andrew. 'Err well Art & English...but I went to college and got more.' 'What in?" "Art & English....and pottery". The expression of pity said it all.

What was I thinking of doing pottery? All my work was accidental as I was rubbish at it and made it up as I went along. But because the art teacher was mad, I managed to blag her that they were intentional expressions of my inner self. I also recall that the women, no matter how hard they tried not to, they kept making pots that looked like big knobs. Very expressive indeed. I had my excuses for a poor education. The teachers strike and race riots of the 1980's had a big impact on my school and academic education played second fiddle to them. I did learn how to manufacture a petrol bomb although this knowledge has yet to be used for anything useful. With the price of petrol these days I am unlikely to either.

East as much as you like

Photo: The Flying Fox

In the excitement of the marathon weekend I forgot to mention I had been away for the previous week with all the P7's in Dunbar. 133 In total. Oversized plates of energy food every 3 hours or so and hot chocolate on tap, I was glad I wasn't running on the sunday. The camp is a really good idea. All the P7's are leaving primary school and mostly going to the same secondary school. There are quite few 'wee' schools out in the villages. Schools with small gene pools but schools where the kids benefit from meeting others kids before they make the big move. So stick them all together for a week of outdoor activities and Bobs your uncle (or your dad is your uncle and grandmother as is the case in some of these villages). It works a treat and I've yet to see a better model.
My back injury prevented me from doing my early morning jogs with the hard men and indeed most of the other things I wanted to do. However, I did manage a couple of shots on the flying fox as I rightly believed the sensation of hanging in mid air might stretch my crooked back. It also earnt points with the kids who dared me to do it backwards and blindfolded and I pretended to be scared for effect. What's scary about jumping off a 30 ft platform?
On the return journey the kid in front was travel sick. Being helpful I handed him my ADSA plastic bag. ADSA being helpful put air holes in it to help your food breathe. The outcome was a small fountain of red, sour cheese smelling vomit pouring out all over the coach and the 2 kids sat wither side of the ill one. It gave me great pleasure to hand him over to his rightful owners at the end of the journey. Next year Andrew's lot go...i can't wait for that.

Bye George!

My mum and dad were up visiting with their pet lab George. He is the brother of Frank and Harold who went up to the big kennel in the sky a couple of years ago. George was on his last legs..well front ones as the back ones didn't work. He was nearly blind and miserable so it was time to let him go. Much thought went into the decision to have him put down on holiday, but one thing affirmed their plan. IT"S CHEAPER IN DUNBAR THAN MANCHESTER TO HAVE YOUR DOG BUNKED OFF!
At the vets, they explained they were on holiday. The vet said, "you must be the with that man who had his 2 labs put down last year!". How did she know? Have we got a reputation as some sort of canine serial killers? Who knows?

Anyway, not all was lost. My dad managed to fit a chair in the boot, in the space george normally occupied, and Trefor has gained a new bed, lead and a box of dog food. We had seen a taxidermist in Inverness that we had thought about contacting as I could do with a new foot stool to rest this sore leg on!

The Family Ness

Photos:
1. Our hotel room where there was pay 4 view tv!
2. The Baxters Pasta Party the night before the big one.
3. Emma glides through the finishing line under 4 hours
4. My marshaling duties
5. Trying to entice Nessies out of hiding


Well we both made it to the marathon but only Emma ran it. The old back trouble (now the left leg and groin) ruled me out. Emma however got to soak up the excitement of the pre race pasta party and expo, whilst I felt like a fraud and joined in. There was a big sign up asking for volunteers so rather than pass the next day by doing nothing but feeling sorry for myself, I put my name forward. Early night Saturday at our nice hotel...not before trying out the sauna swim jaccuzzi! Then it was a 7.00am continental breakfast for the marathoners at the hotel. Quite good really but I felt for marathon marshals like me, the full English would be more useful. Sadly that wasn't on until 7.30am so I had to over indulge on Danish pastries to get my moneys worth.

8.00am saw around 50+ buses leave in convoy to take all 2200 runners to the middle of nowhere to start the race. An impressive sight it was too. Meanwhile I reported for duty and was given my orange 'race crew' t-shirt and started off taking bookings for the 5km race. Then it was a tea break, followed by light duties of moving goody bags. This earnt me promotion to marshaling status, where I was deployed to mile 24 of the route. 'Always a lot of conflict here' said the chief marshal. It was at a junction, one of the few on route, and on a road used by those church going folk who coudn't give a toss about the marathon and insist on parking on the main route. Miserable sods, unlike those at Musselburgh who when it's the Edinburgh marathon, offer tea and coffee to spectators, runners and marshals. I had a couple of hours before the first runners would reach me, so I went for a quick 12 mile bike ride to see what was happening further up the route.

Back in position the first of the 10km runners flew past, followed an hour later by the first marathoners. Then the first conflict of the day arose when an old git wanted to park on the road I was patrolling. 'Why?' I asked. 'Because I park there every year'. Despite my newly found authority of a yellow bib, he proceeded to park there. Then arrives a coach load of Spaniards with a non English speaking driver who also wanted to park there, shortly followed by some other foreigners on a bus too big to get down that road. People trust marshals. One woman came to check when her husband was likely to pass, so that she knew how much time she had to run up a huge bill on his credit card. Others shared their medical problems, and some asked for directions. I didn't even know there was a castle in Inverness.

Steve from Dunbar came over after completing the 10km, and we went up to mile 23 and a half to see our wives pass through. Both looked good and on target for a sub 4 hour run. Then we dashed across the river via bridges to catch them at 25. I then used my power bib to get me into the VIP area and snap them both coming through the finishing line. Emma did an impressive 3:56 for her first marathon. I really did feel like a fraud as I was now limping badly. The toll of standing all day was being paid, my back was killing me. i just pretended to be one of the runners for sympathy. Then it was in for a massage and a complimentary meal, and back to the hotel. A great day was had by all and I really hope I can make it next year. Come and join us if you can.

Needing some stability

Picture: What my spine should look like...not all squashed and crushing nerves.

I did my trip to the physio yesterday (with clean undies on!). The news was not good. Basically I have been lacking in what they call 'core stability', which is the area around your abs and sides that holds all your body in place, especially your back. In short when I have been on my long runs my back starts to arch because the core stability is weak. The arching has then squashed the disc things together, thus causing inflamation around the nerves...which in turn is quite genuinely a pain in the arse! Not just there, but lower back and legs too. The cure is doing lots of work on building it up. This could mean pilates classes which looks like the most boring and slow exercise. I just can't see myself doing it but then I might have to don my leoard and head band and get down to the gym. The other is to use an exercise ball and do lots of balance work. I opted for this as its slightly more fun and does seems to bring a bit of relief fairly quickly.
This all means that the marathon is now slipping away and months of training will be lost to the wind. Now that I look at running web sites and guides, I can see there is a lot out there about this core stability thing, but I have never really paid much attention to it as the market is flooded with as many useless tips as there are good ones. It makes sense to do it, but for me its all a bit late in the day. Learn from my error if you plan to do any serious running.

That's Going to Hurt

The back has not improved, other than it's shifted into my leg and now I have various levels of pain and pins 'n' needles in it. The most painful bit is I have been forced to go and see a physio. Her name is Judith and for £45 I get to drop my trousers and she does a fairly invasive search for what's wrong. Mmm! I'd better take my mums advice as a kid and ensure I have clean undies on. 'If you were to get knocked down by a car and you had dirty underpants on, what would they say' was her motivational talk for our personal hygiene. I can see the paramedics doing all the checks...pulse..(fine)....breathing (fine).....grubby undies (filthy...call for back up and protective clothing)
My aim now is to walk, never mind run. My leg weighs a good few pounds more than my other (or it feels like it does). My application for a blue parking permit is already in the post, as is my bid for a place in the 2012 Para olympics.

Farewell to the Dons

'They think it's all over, well it is now' is the footballing phrase to sum up Andrew's career prospects with Aberdeen FC. Sadly it came to an end for now on Monday. The coach had to let 4 or 5 of them go, and Andrew was one of them. He rightly said he is just a bit slower in pace than the others. At that level of footy, being the best in school is not enough, because so are all the others. You need extra fitness and he has never really had to work on that. He's taken it well and I am hoping it will inspire him to have a crack at the fitness thing.

There was a slight sense of relief that it has ended. Whilst its a big disappointment too, the traveling was hard for us all. We had another trip up to Aberdeen to play Hearts. It was a much better day out and Andrew scored...one to tell his grandchildren! Most of the team are Glaswegians, and the coach journey was lightened up with a DVD player. They showed 'Chewin the Fat' and Soccer FM' on the way there, but on the return one of the parents offered some from his own pirate collection. I'm not sure what it was called but the first one opened with a scene of blood and guts. It was an 18 so not exactly appropriate for under 11's. Then we had the offer of the new Mummy film. I am not even sure it's out at the cinema yet. I will miss that aspect of it.

So today it was back to regular community footy with the Dunbar Colts. Hearts last week....Haddington today. There could not have been a greater contrast, with Andrew's team winning 12-2 on a water logged field, the ref using a whistle he got out of a cracker and a total blind spot to anything his own team did wrong. Come on Dunbar!

Back Trouble

My marathon training has taken a severe knock back. I've done my back in! I woke up with it feeling a bit sore a week ago, and its gone downhill ever since. In the end I couldn't sleep or stand or lie down. Agony! People with back trouble say 'it's like having a cold screw driver stuck into your back', or 'the bite of a snake and the venom surging through your body'. How would they know that? They'd be dead, but I sympathise with what they are trying to say. Why stop there? It's like having an 18 stone woman jumping up and down on your arse wearing a pair of stilletto's (Tory MP and probably numerous Anglican bishops) or It's like having a StingRay stick it's pointy thing in you (Steve Irwin). I have discovered that there are 2 things that bring it relief. Swimming and cycling but I struggle getting up stairs with both. Back ache is one of those things people use to bunk off work. How does the doc prove you don't have it? It's so over used it's taken away the genuine sympathy sufferers of it deserve. With 2 weeks to go until the marathon I can see the expressions of doubt on people's faces, thinking 'lightweight'. But I am told this 'muscle spasm' could go as quick as it came, so hopefully I can still give it a go. If not, then it's a weekend in Inverness supporting Emma and eating pies and indulging in all the other luxuries I've held back on throughout training.

Looks like rain dear!

Photos: Stuart gyroscoping and zorbing. Our water feature and the mud

Last weekend I made my return to camping after a 2 year break. We were away with the church youth group to a big event called Spree. It happened to collide with the worst weather we have had all summer and there was heavy rain, constantly for the whole weekend. Our tents were already for us on arrival and I did wonder if they had picked the wrong field for a campsite when I noticed reed beds all over it. Our luxury 3 man tent was dry enough in the sleeping chamber, but the foyer had a water feature running through it. Still, it survived the strong winds, unlike others in our swamp who were evacuated to the sports hall. Namby pamby's, don't they know that this is what camping is like in Scotland?

The event was really good. packed to the rafters with activities. The organisers were brave enough to not cancel anything, which just meant getting wet all day and night if you wanted to do them. Stuart was with us and had the choice of going to the under 8's cabin to do craft and stuff like that, or join the teenagers doing paintballing, rock climbing, bouncing on the inflatables, zorbing, gyroscoping, archery, power kiting, go karting, swimming, Wii, mountain biking and kayaking. A tough choice to make for a 7 year old but somehow the Under 8's programme had little appeal to him. So he did most of those things, including zorbing which had the longest queue, but 10 out of 10 for novelty value. Zorbing is climbing inside a huge inflatable ball and running around a giant paddling pool. It is fun, but very tiring. I can imagine Stuart had great difficulty explaining to his teacher exactly how he had spent his weekend. I am expecting a phone call from social services concerned that Stuart's imagination is getting overworked. All in all a good weekend and we bumped into a few old friends from various other camps, including Rich Townend who used to come to Criccieth so lots of reminiscence going on there. Despite the mud and suffering (Emma packed wellies 2 sizes too small) it was a welcome return to camping!

Man the lifeboats

Photo: The fireworks at the harbour

We all turned out to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the lifeboat in Dunbar. In fact loads of people did and it was one of those nights where the complete social range of people living in Dunbar end up together. The fireworks are always a big pull, so is the beer tent. Despite a few brawls over a bottle of Bucky, things went well.

Day Trip to Aberdeen

Photo: Not the Son of Rambo but of me taking on Celtic's defence


The football season has kicked off. Andrew is still trialling with Aberdeen FC and had his first taste of what signing with them is going to involve. They had a home game against Celtic. 'Home' is Aberdeen, but they have a team based in Hamilton which is who Andrew trains with, so they put a bus on to get them all (and parents) up there. So off we set at 7.30am to make the MacDonald's pick up in Edinburgh at 8.30am. Time for an Egg & Sausage McMuffin before the 3 and half hour trip. On the bus, the coach does a motivational talk and one all about diet and eating the right stuff before a game. With the grease still on my lips from my Egg McMuffin, we could not hide our guilt. It was a long journey but I managed to switch off, read the paper and ignore the foul mouthed kids behind me. Within 15 minutes of arrival the game started and it was quite a sight to see 4 Aberdeen vs Celtic games going on at once. All the age ranges play so its a big event with a good crowd. Sadly Aberdeen were outclassed by a very tidy Celtic team. They lost 3-1 and 5-0, which included a penalty and an own goal in the results. Never mind, Andrew of course played well! He's a bit hesitant and nervous but he did play as good as the rest. With the games over it was back to the Aberdeen FC Academy lounge for a few sarnies and a cup of tea. Then back on the bus for 3 and a half hours of hell. Fortunately I had my mini dvd player so i got to watch Son of Rambo. I had to put subtitles on though because the noise of the kids was too loud.
So there we have it, as top flight as football can get in Scotland for a 10 year old. No glamour, just football in the park and huge commitment which is wearing. Watch this space to see what happens next...lots of mmm's, maybe's, well's, err's and possibly's to work out.

Olympic Bid for some everyday people

That's it for another 4 years. The olympics is over and it actually turned out to be very good. Of course it was good to see Team GB get a load of medals, but if I have any complaints it is that they seemed to do well in sports that are elite and really for those who have a financial start in life. Who do you know who has a yacht, or a rowing boat? I've got an inflatable dinghy... will that do? The cycling and the swimming were perhaps the more accessible sports. Swimming saw lots of Stockport Metro's do well and I got the impression that the winners were from fairly humble origins...one of them even came from Mansfield, poor child. In Scotland Chris Hoy is getting a big pat on the back, and for a while I was under the impression he was an every day bloke who done well in a sport. But then I discovered Chris Hoy was educated at George Watsons.. a big private school in Edinburgh. Boo! He's not normal, he's elite...how disappointing. Not as disappointed as Emma was when she discovered Mark Foster is rumoured to be Colin Jacksons 'partner'. I had to laugh at Matthew Mitcham, the Australian diver who got gold. Watch this video of him and there is no clues he is gay until right at the end of the clip when he gives a really gay wave to the camera. He may as well have shouted 'I'm free!'.

As for the athletics. I help out with the junior section of our running club. Some kids have talent, but what do you do with it? The opportunities to develop it are not there and it is left to people like me who don't even know how to do the sports we are supposed to teach. If there were medals to be won for doing Basil Fawlty impressions in the 100m, or getting as close to the marshall with the javelin, then we would be clear winners.

Athletic Support Needed

Back from Cambuslang with mixed fortunes in my results.

100 meters = 3rd place in my category but 5th out of 6 in the race. Midway through the race I looked ahead at the winners whose thighs were twice as wide as mine and thought to myself 'this is not my strong distance'.

Long Jump = 1st place...out of 2 competitors. Only one foul jump too. The eye of the tiger was beginning to open!

400 meters = 5th place out of 6. Once the gun went off, and all the runners whizzed passed me, I thought to myself 'this is not my strong distance'. However I did manage to beat the Cambuslang runner who looked like one of those circus strong men, you know the sort with bald heads and twirly moustaches.

Javelin = 2nd place out of 3 in my category. However having never thrown a javelin it was only when I got half way through the run run up that it crossed my mind I was holding a lethal weapon and there were two marshals in the line of my fire. I threw it but forgot to stop running and ran on to the grass. For the second one I decided to slow down and use my dart throwing skill over speed. 26 meters, but then only to be disappointed to discover the record there is 64 meters. The 3rd one never happened. Because i was in the 400 m race, that was started late because the organisers were the biggest bunch of anally retentive knobs ever had fussed over trivial details, I missed the first round. The official refused to budge and I pointed out to her that it was her inefficiency and that her tone was not in the spirit of the games, but the old bag would not back down. I wish I had got her earlier with my missthrow.

High Jump = To qualify you have to clear 1 meter 50. Having never done high jump before this was a tall order as by now my legs were feeling very heavy, and I had no idea what technique you are supposed to use. I was all fro running up and doing a forward dive, but that's not allowed. You have to take off on one foot...but which one I don't know. Needless to say I only cleared 1m 30 and did not qualify.

4 x 100 meters relay = I don't know what position we came but I was delighted to have exchanged the baton without any hiccups and run a good race leaving the strong man and his team far behind.

Unfortunately we did not win promotion. For me the half marathon the day before was taking its toll as was the lack of any idea of how to do half the events I was in hindered my performance. Andrew & Isabelle did well, with him winning long jump and Isabelle getting 3rd in shot put and long jump. Today my legs are stiff as a board, I think I will have a rest.

Olympics

Daly Thompson, a true Olympian


The Olympics are here. I never intended to watch them but I enjoy the fact that for many of the athletes, getting there is reward enough and they get a few weeks off work, get the chance of becoming a local hero and get to go on a jolly. I also find myself watching sport I would never normally look at, like the equestrian event I am watching now. I have even gone one step further and actually started to participate in events new to me. Tomorrow I head off to Cambuslang with the kids and the running club for the final day of the athletics season, with promotion to division 2 to be played for. Because we are equal to the Cambuslang, we need to field as many athletes as possible in as many events to notch up extra points and win the promotion place. Just by entering an event, we get a point for the club. So guess who is doing the 100m, 400 m, 800m, javelin, shot put, long jump and 110m hurdles tomorrow? I've Googled how to do them so I will be fine (except all the instructions are for right handed people and I'm a lefty). I'm working on my grip and thrust and I have grown a bushy moustache so I can look like Daly Thompson

Flood Alert

Things are desperate when all we can write about is the weather, but unusual waether gets a mention. It rained for 36 hours on Wed/Thursday and there was some localised flooding here in Dunbar. The road was closed as it flooded under the railway bridge, in another incident my car was stranded in the car park that also flooded and required wading through...well paddling through 2 inches of water. But the main crisis was in the guinea pig hutch. Several inches (and rising) was dangerously close to swamping out the little critters. Since the execution...(sorry accidental death of Splat) we are all very protective of the others. I'm sure one was called Splash, and so concerned was Isabelle, that she actually got out of her bed before 11am. Not only that, she rescued them from the rising flood waters.

Today was the Haddington Half Marathon. The torrential rain was back and for me good running conditions. We decided an hour before to do it, which was a mistake as neither of us were in the zone, or really prepared. But then the rain stopped and the sun put his hat on and it went all humid. Crap running conditions. I pulled up at 11.5 miles with cramp, again at 12.5 miles, not enough fluid taken on and the price you pay for a staple diet of banoffee pie whilst at Wensleydale. Worst still we both have red sun burn in the pattern of our running vests. Emma showed hers off at the churches pool and pizza party tonight. More rain forecast tomorrow, and we are hoping for more flooding so we can get the dinghy out on park.

Herriot Country

20 minutes earlier thou were up that big t'hill behind thee.


We've just got back from 9 days in Wensleydale, home of Wallace & Gromitts Wensleydale Cheese, and the location for the books and tv series 'All Creatures Great & Small'. It's a nice place to visit and quite traditional and unspoilt given its close proximity to Newcastle.
Whilst there I managed to get a race in. TheHerriot Country Trail Run 14 km . It started at Castle Bolton in Redmire where we stayed, the same location for a pirate reinactment group. The day before I actually bumped into Captain Jack Sparrow who kindly offered to come and talk to the 30 kids we had with us from camp. Stuart talked to him for 30 minutes about his sword. A strange mix of swashbuckling blokes in pirates outfits, and bollock swishing athletes wearing running shorts!
The race clashed with the hottest day so far, and it got hotter as we climbed. Not a breeze to be found and at 8 miles I was feeling a little peculiar and broke my own rule of walking on a flat bit during a hill run. I managed to press on and got a respectable 67 minutes,putting me 35th out of 267. As far as I know I was the only Scottish Club runner, but overshadowed by someone from Dubai (i bet the heat didn't bother them) I can't complain at that as I have been eating yet more cakes and seconds and third helpings of everything on the camp and feeling a little bit clogged up.
Anyway, if you are ever hungry in the Dales, then you can only go to one place for fast food. Check it out for yourself. click here

Return to York

Acomb is No1 for charity shops and pies!

Our tour of Northern England included a couple of days in York staying with our pregnant and showing Sarah and Rob. Having wandered around York with a class of 30 kids earlier in the year, I was quite eager to get back there and look around without having to count heads all day.

I decided to go for a run. The last 2 weeks have been away and have involved eating lots of food, mainly junk and plenty of it. But I have had very few runs. Getting motivated to get out of bed and run in traffic in Manchester was hard so I didn't bother. York however has a couple of rivers running through it so I headed down one into the city centre where I had planned to run the circuit of the city walls. However the city walls are not complete and at 2 points they run and you have to find your way to the next section. I found myself right in the heart of the shopping centre in my skimpy vest and shorts, looking slightly out of place and lost. York is a city but it has a small town feel about it. I noticed this when I happened to see Anna Woodcock an old friend of ours and relative through marriage sat in her office window. It would be rude not to go and wave, and she politely came out to say hello to me. Eventually I managed to pick up the walls again and found my way to Acomb, the village where we were staying. Then I bumped into another person I knew. Derek Wooldridge used to run the camps in Criccieth before I did. He is a legend and someone I always associate with York. There he was walking in the rain. it was nice to stop and have a chat, although it must have been a bit strange for him to see me on his street on a friday morning.

The rest of the visit included a trip to the York Dungeon. Stuart was terrified enough to give a genuine gasp of horror, but not enough to be scarred for life. It's a bit pricey but worth a look if you get the chance. These actors come out and tell you tales and explain it all. The price was scarier than the horrors in there. We also visited Acomb. Acomb is a hidden gem. There are 6-or 7 really good charity shops, a Peacocks, loads of bakers, and other cheap and cheerful shops. We managed to stock up on Action Men, books and a few other bits you can only get in charity shops. There's everything a man needs in Acomb, I look forward to a return visit.

City Life - Church

Whilst staying in the hood of Burnage, we went to our old church St Margarets. The services there was quite a bit longer than the 45 minutes we get in Dunbar. 45 minutes in and Emma needed the loo and knew that the sharing of peace was coming up. Everyone gets up and shakes hands, whilst Emma gets up and shakes her lettuce!

Anyway we were only 3 shakes into the peace when a bit of a doo was going on in the central aisle. One of the old ladies had passed out. In fact her heart had stopped and right in the middle of the service those around her had to do CPR. The service could not go on until Greater Manchester Ambulance Service had come to attend. 20 minutes later they were there, and whisked her off to the MRI. The sermon hadn't been that bad! In fact there was a time when the service would have gone on, pretending nothing had happened, so it was good to see a bit of impro taking place.

This slightly sombre moment was broken when an old mate pointed out one of the notices to me. Sheila is the old Guide leader and faithfully does an annual afternoon teas thing for the women. However the notice read
- Wednesday: Sheila's p.m. teas

Now I am not sure what we were supposed to do with that information. Maybe give her a wide berth, say nice things to her, I'm not sure.

The visit was rounded off with one of St Margaret's legendary parish lunches. Basically everyone brings a pile of food and swaps it. Everyone gets well fed and you get to mix your meals. Curry and quiche, lasagne and egg rolls, rissotto and diced cheddar and cubed pinapple. Then for pudding, trifle and penguins, tunnocks and jelly, and cheese cake and curry (there was still some left so it seemed a shame to waste it).

City Life

We have just returned from our summer holiday city break. Living by the coast and in the countryside we now find a trip to the city is a welcomed change for us. You can't help have the small town mentality, when you live in a small town. In Dunbar you do know other people's business, people are related and not much happens. So off we went to Manchester to see the family and friends down there. It was a good journey, travelling under 70mph to save on fuel. At the service station in the Lakes a coach full of Asian people in posh traditional dress came in. They had obviously been to a wedding or something and looked very colourful. In contrast to Manchester, Dunbar has a tiny population of black people. I think there are no more than 15 black people that I can think of in Dunbar (adults included). So the sight of this crowd caused Andrew to point at them in amazement, causing us to cringe. 'Why aren't there any Muslims in Dunbar?' was asked and a brief history lesson commenced. Only 3 years ago he had been at a school where 30-40% of the class were Muslim. In fact much to the disappointment of the head, the kids organised their own football matches, the Muslims vs the Christians! How could he forget?

We had a trip into the city centre and the Trafford Centre. You could see Isabelle thinking 'why did we move away from this?' Even I was taken in for a few moments by the size and range of shops on offer. It lasted for 5 minutes and then I realised that these shops are only any good if you have some cash and part of the brain that tells you that wandering around aimlessly is fun. I used to hang around the Arndale Centre quite a bit in my teens. In those days very little other than the large escalators with tubes of flowing water down the sides of them were in place to entertain you. Wimpy was there long before MacD's, KFC and all the other fast food places cashed in on our desire for junk. These days the new entertainment is coffee. Yes it seems that you can't walk more than 2 feet without having to stop and have a coffee. Fortunately our Beck offered a staff discount at Starbucks where the kids enjoyed their frappachinos (cold milk shakes with a fancy name so you can pay £3 for the joy). Me and Emma had a cappuccino (only because it was one of the few items I had actually heard of). In fact we actually had a bucket of cappuccino each as they came in those oversized mugs they do. This led to an afternoon of visiting most of the public toilets in town for my own expresso's (no froth thanks). In a time of a credit crunch where do people find the time or money to sit drinking coffee. The good thing about it is people watching and most memorable was the tranny goth with 5 o clock shadow...it was there I realsied where Andrew got his pointing trait.

We did a few other things like go to Urbis, the Manchester Eye and went for curry. Very enriching and worth going to. They also have a Primark, so we were able to kit out the whole family for under £5. The city centre is changing rapidly with more and more high rise offices, hotels and apartments popping up. However there is little point to it all unless you have some cash in your pocket. I can't help but wonder if it is all going to come to a sudden end.

More about the trip later.

They're not young for long you know!

Photo: Isabelle on her way to the prom with her M8s!



Today marks the end of an era. Our oldest child left primary school. How old does that make a man feel?

It was a great day for them, and I managed to get along to the leavers assembly to soak up the occasion. The highlight is them all leaving the school for the last time, where they have to walk through a huge line up of all the other classes and waiting parents. Pretty impressive and a great celebration. They also had a prom, where lots of frocks and kilts were being worn and a load of 11 year olds arrived in stretched limo's and Hummer's. Pretty cool, all I remember about leaving school was having to do a line up and give Mrs Rudolph a kiss. I escaped via the fire exit!

We have worked out that the next time Isabelle, Andrew and Stuart will be at the same school together will be when Isabelle is in the 6th form. Now I will feel very old then.

Life's a Snore!

Check out this extra loud snoring. The image of the culprit is masked as she didn't have her teeth in!

Splat!

Photo: Splat in happier times, crapping on ELC's Single Status contracts

Have you ever considered that the name you give somebody could turn out to be a self fulfilling prophecy? Careful thought goes into choosing a name because it defines who you are and could even set you up, or let you down for the future. You know from your school days that certain kids with certain names, and simply because they have that name, will turn out to be either a complete nerd, a tearaway or pregnant with their 4th child by the time they are 13. I will leave you to work out the names in case one of them takes offence.

But names have a meaning and it goes for pets too. Trefor is named after a Welsh coach firm I am fond of (which is also a little Welsh village), Frank was named after my Uncle...so was Harold. And some animals live up to their names, such as pit bull terriers called Tyson, that really do bite your ears off. So when we got 3 Guinea Pigs at Christmas, the choice of name was also important. Spike for the long haired one whose hair stood on end, and Splat for the white one with a black face that looked like a splat of paint. But of course splat is also the noise you get if you drop a heavy on something soft and furry...something like a rabbit hutch on top of a stray Guinea Pig!

On Friday we noticed Splat was missing. They are out in their pen a lot so quite possibly a fox or the near by nesting buzzards might have had him. But a thought crossed my mind that perhaps he had got under the hutch. Sure enough, poking out from underneath it was a little paw. I lifted it up and there he was, Splat! If you have ever watched Tom & Jerry and seen how Tom ends up flat when an anvil lands on him, well then you will appreciate how flat Splat was. As a pancake! Legs spread out either side and wafer thin. Whilst not wanting to downplay the tragedy, it was very funny to see.

The guilty pet murderer was Emma. It seems she had lifted it up whilst cleaning it out, and thought Splat was inside with the others. Instead he was under their feet doing the Guinea Pig version of flower pressing. Poor Splat.

The World of Sport

Have you ever found yourself entering the world of the unknown? We are in the middle of doing so right now...entering the secret world of sport! Not the classic ITV sports programme (you can see that here)World of Sport but the world of football.

Andrew went along to play his first trial game for Aberdeen on Friday...in Glasgow! They have a West Coast training base there in Hamilton, so it's an hours drive as opposed to 3 and half to Aberdeen itself. The way it works is that the lads get a game and asked to come back if they are worth another look. Andrew and his mate Jack played well and did get asked back. The coach seemed an nice enough bloke but you like to check them out just in case. Also because i know little about the beautiful game, and even less so about the Scottish version of it. A quick Google search reveals Bobby McDonald was himself a Premier League player for Villa, Man City, Leeds and Oxford. The result was Cumbernauld United 3, Aberdeen 3. 'Come back on Monday' he said.

So last night we went back and met the staff before they played East Kilbride YC. Have you ever felt like a fish out of water. Well I felt like one floundering as these footy blokes talked footy. I just stood there nodding and shaking my head. Then another 2 appeared. "That's Peter Weir" said one of the scouts with a definate tone of reverence. The blank look on mine and Nick's (Jack's dad) prompted him to add "He played for Aberdeen and St Mirren and Scotland, and he is the head of youth for Aberdeen". So there I was stood amongst some proper footballers discussing my sons future with the club.

The game went well and Andrew scored. Both lads played hard but stood out. they have been asked back again on Saturday for a friendly, and then if that goes well they get a 4 week trial in the summer, including some games against the big clubs like Celtic, Rangers and Hibs. Then they get the offer to sign. It really is another world and there's loads for us to weigh up and think through. Of course it could come to nothing but we don't want to be caught like a rabbit in headlights if an offer does come through. Watch this space!

Ginger Twists

One of the things about ginners is that they get noticed. I reported on Andrew's hair dyeing disaster, which has turned out in his favour. Recently Andrew's team played a friendly against the mighty Aberdeen FC Youth Team. Unknown to us a scout from there had his eye on a few of our lads, including Andrew. But at first the our coaches were unsure who they meant when they described him as a the 'ginger kid on the wing'. Then it twigged, and sure enough he was asked to go for a game last week. So there we are, a big point scored for the gingers of the world...'ginners are winners'!

Wet One

Sunday was my first real taste of hill running. I've done a few short ones but none that require a map, whistle and compass and waterproofs. It was a 12km route that quite literally runs along the edge of the Scottish Border (only a wire fence to seperate us) and a route that takes in the end of the Pennine Way. You also need a small bag to carry them in. I searched high and low for one in the house and found the perfect solution, one of the kids England rucksacks. It might be child sized, but it did the trick. It also infuriated the Scottish nationalists who were behind me in the race. The alternative was a Spiderman rucksack, but that might have annoyed any baddies on the run!

Now having a map and compass is one thing, but knowing how to use them is another. I've been shown numerous times how to use them but I just can't retain the information. But then who would need a map and compass on a well defined route like that? Well it appears everybody doing the race. Cloud level was around about 2 minutes into the race. From there onwards you could only see 20 feet in front of you and nothing more. Knowing my weakness in navigation skills, I decided to follow the man in front. That of meant having to keep up with him, and at times I lost him in the mist which was scary. The mist also hid how high the hills were. I think I counted 5 hills, up and down them all, but number 4 was a bugger. It just went on and on. Also it was now cold and raining hard. The border fence I was following never seemed to end. Eventually I caught up with the bloke on the desecent and even passed him at one point, but then my laces came undone. Ever tried to lace your shoes with cold hands? I was still following him when suddenly he stopped! 'I'm sorry, I've gone the wrong way." Out came the map and sure enough we had. "We will just have to traverse". The diversion cost us at least 1/2 a mile but eventually our destination of Yetholm the end of the Pennine Way was in sight. So without further a do I finished the race (one second ahead of him) but in a poor 47th place. At the end it emerged that most of these hill runners don't actually know how to map read either, as nearly half of them had got lost too. Whilst I enjoyed the change, I think I will stick to roads and paths in the future.

Girl Guiding at ADSA

The Girl Guides are off to Switzerland on some expensive trip next summer. This means loads of fund raising to bring the price down and it also means parents getting involved. So when Isabelle and her squad of Guides headed off to ADSA for a bag pack they were looking for parents to help out. Reluctantly I got roped in. However it turned out to be a top afternoon of people watching. I spent the whole afternoon not only talking to people I knew, but seeing what goes into their shopping bags. Of course I realised that some items might be a bit embarrassing if I were to pack them. I'm sure the librarian wouldn't want me to ask her if i should put her Anusol in with her kippers, or ask the milkman if he wanted all 4 bottles of Gin putting in the same bag as his Smirnoff...I wouldn't need to as he could probably carry them in one hand like they do with the milk.(These are of course fictional scenarios in case anyone thought of offering the librarian a rubber ring next time they were in). Isabelle was trying to ignore me and sent me to another till, so I had thought of anding over a basket full of embarrassing items for her to pack, like lingerie, 10 packets of condoms and a box of feminine wipes. Anyway the day was a success with £1300 being raised and one or two eyebrows. I can't wait for the next one.

Now had we done it the following Saturday we would have been treated to a sighting of Gok Wan. Yes the celebrity flab fiddling dandy was in Dunbar's ADSA on his way back from Edinburgh. I hope so anyway, as it would just be awful if someone we knew appeared on that 'How to Look Fat Naked' programme....I think that's the name of it.
Picture: (Top) Isabelle packs another bag of shopping
(Bottom...as in the location of it not the content) Gok with the ADSA girls!

Pipe Band Day

Ever wondered what a swarm of giant wasps sounds like? Then head to Dunbar's Pipe Band day next year. Bus loads of pipers descend on Dunbar's Winterfield for a day of piping. The sound is really quite amazing. Amazingly bad but certainly one to remember. It's not that they can't play the pipes, but when you get 30 bands trying to play a different tune at the same time it sounds pretty bad. think a giant with a severe case of asthmah! Pipe Band Day is one of those things that has gone on for years and yet half the locals know nothing about it which is a shame. It is a good day out, with many people just enjoying the atmosphere, the beer tent, the bottles of Buckfast, the WKD, etc. There is also a spot of highland dancing for the kids and a new one on me...baton twirling! So if you fancy swinging your baton with a Gay Gordon then head this way!

Pictures:
Some Pipers had a crash landing on their magic carpet.
The pipers head into the arena for some ear drum piercing devil's music.
Some kid wearing some silly trousers.

Church of Scotland knees up!

A couple of weeks or so ago I got myself along to the Church of Scotland's National Gathering. Because everyone is so spread out thinly in Scotland someone had the idea of bringing them all together in a tented village. The highlight for me was seeing the Archbishop of York speak as he seems to be one of the few remaining Church of England clergy who has a believable faith and who seems to understand that there is a world beyond the 4 walls of his church/minster/palace! Through a distant relative (through marriage) I managed to get my account of the event on the Archbishop's website. Check it out for yourself

The report

It was a good event. It got a bit boring after a couple of hours, and the music was a bit tree hugging in style, and the venue was far to big. As someone said, 'it was like a size 8 foot in a size 10 shoe'. All that said, it was a unique opportunity to meet some of the Christians from around Scotland and actually support each other. When you go to these kind of gathering in England they are a bit competitive and you find that they are just full of people selling their wares...their latest book or resource that promises to change your church, another CD of 'Now That's What I Call Plinky Plonky Praise on those electric Piano's', 'Graham Kendrick: The Reggae years' and a new course that is slightly similar to the last one..in fact so close it's just an anagram of it 'Halpa'. Of course few of them deliver on their promises, and you come home fleeced of your pennies and annoyed at yourself for believing that some 'quick fix' answers to the problems of the church were out there. Without wanting to get into this idea of 'our church is better than your's' I shall look forward to the next Church of Scotland event and hope that it grows from strength to strength.

Permission to drown

The waters around Dunbar are safe again. After losing one lifeboat to the elements, the RNLI have forked out £1.1 million for a new boat. It arrived last week from Poole so it safe to get those air beds out and float out as far as you want into busy shipping lanes. More importantly the boat has arrived in time for Lifeboat Day later this summer. It's one of the town biggest events and well worth a visit to Dunbar.

Picture: Courtesy of
grianghraif (Flickr) Neville (the boat) arrives.

Ginger Nuts

Andrew has taken to tinting his hair with blonde highlights. However the operation went all so wrong the other day when first it went all blonde. In an attempt to reverse the damage, another dye was applied only to make things worse...it became ginger. Ginger hair is cruel anyway, but when it is not even natural then your in trouble. Fortunately he has had a 3rd colour added to heal the wounds....and a severe trim at the barbers for good measure. Now he is a different colour...not sure which but one that has got him noticed. All week parents and teachers have been coming up to me to pass comment his golden/ginger look. Today though some cheeky little tow rag came up and commented on my streaks...they are grey! Almost as cheeky as the little snotball who pointed out to his class mates my varicaeus veins

The Big One

I recently completed the Edinburgh to North Berwick road race. It's a 22 mile run, taking you along the coast through several of East Lothian's little towns. It's the longest run I have ever done in my life, and I was not sure if I would actually cover the distance. It all starts at the Meadowbank Stadium. Built in the 60's it is now due to be pulled down, but it resembles something from the Eastern Block with these grey concrete walls, rusty girders and rows of faded plastic seats. There was 137 starters and after a lap and 3/4 of the stadium we hit the streets via the marathon gates.
Each town has it's own features...Prestonpans the waft of chip shops and bakers and annoying youths shouting less than encouraging comments, Cockenzie...a power station and then you reach the posher parts like Gullane where Ronnie Corbett has a pad and where most of the land seems to be posh golf courses. A few supporters came out to cheer us on which actually helps. I was doing fine until 20 miles when I got to the top of a gradual but long hill, when cramp kicked in. Is this the 'wall' you hear marathon runners talk about? I don't know, but i had to work hard on not doing any permanent damage. Then the only woman I had seen in the race passed me, along with 3 Hunters Bog Trotters (It's the name of the club which is basically a load of posh blokes who fail miserably to be rebels in the white middle class world of running. They believe that drinking lots of beer, wearing brown vests and shouting HBT at every opportunity qualifies you for being the 'bad boys' of the running world. The arses of the running world perhaps!). Anyway 3 of them passed at 21 miles. Gutted! However, the end was in sight and somehow I made it with a an unbelievable 2 hours 31 minutes, 44 seconds. I had at best hoped for a 2:40 so I was very pleased. I also came 23rd! So I am hooked on the long distance stuff now....well whilst my body can cope that is.

Picture: Me at the finish. Emma reckons I lost 3 stone in that run alone!

Victory at last

I've been working with the PE teacher training up the school cross country team. Yesterday was the finals and we were the hosts so the heat was on. However our strict training regime seemed to pay off as we had runners win both the girls and boys race. In fact all our girls came in the top 20, and the lads top 21. This meant that we also scooped the team prize thanks to the efforts of the kids who really did try hard. I've now been roped in to coaching the athletics team. I don't actually know anything about coaching, so I will be blagging my way through it. I thought Fred Dibnah was the world number 1 steeplechaser! All that is needed is a bag full of motivational phrases....'beleive in yourself' 'that trophy has got your name written all over it'...you know the kind of stuff that you will find on some USA education website. Then sit them down and watch some motivational films like the Karate Kid, Fame (fame costs and here's where you start paying) and Cool Runnings. Well I suppose I had better go now and brush up on my javelin technique before someone loses an eye!

I Love Old York!

Aside to the luggage difficulties in York, the trip was a gooden! The main purpose for me going is to help the school out and to get to know the kids that I will be working with over the next few years. I did it 2 years ago and I enjoy the best response to my work with that group because they have got to see beyond the 'bloke from the church' veneer.

We stayed at the Race Course Centre, which is where the stable hands stay when it's the York races. We were sharing it with another primary school and a 6th form college from Colwyn Bay. How disappointed the 6th formers looked when they arrived for a wild living field trip, only to discover they were sharing a corridor with 30 primary school kids. No late night parties for them, or we'd set the kids on them.

I really like York. I've visited it for years for camp reunions and planning days, but normally I got no further than St Paul's Church or the Micklegate Bar. So it was good having the free benefits of open top tours, guided walks, a visit to every museum and even Castle Howard (quite boring really...wow it's a big house showing off the wealth of local posh people who exploited the poor...are we supposed to be impressed?). The downside was having to shepherd 30 kids around with me. Also the tedious routine of having to go around gift shops looking at crap replica Viking coins and genuine Roman snowstorms and pencil cases. I did get a nice surprise in Jorvik, the Viking Centre. My photo taken 2 years ago, is up on the wall as part of the display boards. Another part of the entertainment was a visit form one of those Viking reinactment people. 'Danelaw Dave' lives and breathes the Viking life and scared the pants off the kids. He was good but I wish he would use the toilet and not crap out of the window on to the streets below!

I know a lot of people in York and it was inevitable that I would see one of them. Rob & Sarah met up with us at the bowling, but apart from that I didn't see anyone until the last hour of the trip where I saw Beth Tew (Criccieth Camps) on the York Eye. Sadly we were just getting on and had to rush off afterwards to get the train so I didn't have chance to chat. Tom our bus driver was up for an award for best ambassador for the city. If you get a chance to visit then I'd recommend the open top tour bus as a way of understanding the history and geography and social background to York. we even got to see the York Ness Monster!

Carrying a lot of baggage

I'm just back from the Primary 5 week in York. 30 kids and a load of staff jumped on the 9.30am train to York and spent 4 days there sight seeing. More on that in later blogs perhaps. Anyway, there's one thing that seems to have defined this trip for me, and that is luggage.
Being the only bloke in the team, it was left to me to load the train with all 33 suitcases. Getting them on is ok, but getting them off when the train is itching to get on its way to London is slightly more stressful. The train pulls up and its a case of chucking the bags off as quick as possible. With seconds to spare it was all off, but it never crossed my mind that other people might have put their luggage in there with ours too. It was only when an irate American chap retrieved his bag from the platform that I realised trouble was ahead! The kids all lined up, picked up their bags, and yet somehow there was still a bag spare! Oh dear someone was going to be arriving in London with slightly less luggage than they set off with.

That was the first luggage incident. The second was outside the Minster in York. The climb up the 275 Minster steps was made
easier by leaving our rucksacks with 2 of the teachers. However this put temptation in the way of the local crooks, and one of them sneaked up on his bike and pinched a bag, emptied out the money and put it back and swapped it for another. It was like a scene form Oliver as 3 kids got their cash nicked, before some good samaritan intervened. The culprit is locally known as Nigel Flynn...so if you are ever in York and near the Minster and bump into a bloke called Nigel...check your wallet.

That night we were on a guided tour around York and some of the group needed a pee. I pointed them in the direction of some bushes, only to discover that there was a rucksack lying amongst them. I jumped in and grabbed it and hoped it might be the missing bag. After talking to colleagues, we opened it up only to discover it was full of sheets, a towel and some other bits that clearly belonged to one of York's vagrant community. Realising our mistake we went back to try and dispose o fit quietly. Unfortunately a large crowd of tourists had gathered, the alarm of the solicitors( whose gardens the bushes lay) had gone off and so we just had to dump it and run. How ironic it would have been if that was Nigel's bag!

The final incident was getting on the train back. On arrival at the platform, the guard tells me that the luggage needs to go in Coach 'F'. 'What end is that on then?' I ask. "Well it depends on what end First Class is...either the front or the back. 'F' is at the opposite end to 1st" replied JO.B.Sworth of National Express Trains. Sure enough as the laws of Murphy go, we were stood on the platform with all the cases, and First Class rolls up along side us. It was a mad dash to get them from one end to the other, but with the help of some locals (not Nigel) we got them in on time and delivered safely back to Dunbar where the guards were very helpful...and the fact the train was running late had nothing to do with their enthusiasm!