One Man's Notes

Why do PRs still persist in sending me press releases on paper this far into the 21st Century. I look at my desk, and see umpteen items that could just as easily have come to me via e-mail, but no, they have to waste time, money and trees by doing it the old fashioned way.

I lose bits of paper. It’s a magazine office. There are bits of paper everywhere. THey can end up on the wrong desk or in the bin. This doesn’t happen with my arcane Outlook filing system. So PRs, if you want me to pay attention to you finest examples of fluff, send ‘em by e-mail.

Yes, I am back from the Lake District. Those keen to find out what happened in the latter part of the holiday would be best served by going here.

When you take a rural holiday in early February, you take risks. We lost. From the moment we arrived in Penrith it has been pouring with rain. It’s not just the normal, water-falling-from-the-sky variety. No, it’s the driving-soaks-you-to-the-skin-as-soon-as-you-step-outside variety. This explains a couple of things. It explains why Lorna and I had a romantic dinner in the Safeway supermarket just by the station yesterday. It also explains why we retired to the nearby pub afterwards.

My, what a drinking hole that was. We spent a few hours listening to the local youths listening to Nu Metal and desperately trying to chat up the only girl in the group. Once we got tired of that, we moved into the other bar where Lorna attracted the attention of a drunk old man who kept muttering about her “nice teeth”. After a while, he took to calling me a “lying northerner”.

“You don’t want to trust him. He’s lying. I can see it in his eyes,” he told Lorna, no doubt hoping to get her alone so he could remove her teeth and add them to the girlfriend he’s been building in his outhouse. Thankfully, three of the lads arrived before I had to fight for my life and the honour of Lorna’s teeth. We leapt in their car and made the slow journey up to the house.

Why slow? Remember that rain I talked about last night? It’s been pouring off the hills in rivers. Lake Ullswater, which sites right by the road, was doing its best to conquer it and launch an assault on the sheep fields above. It was doing a pretty damn good job, much to the consternation of the sheep and us in the car. Still, we made to the house, more-or-less dry and settled in quickly.

It’s a big old farmhouse, with a central living area and wings of bedrooms off to either side. It’s that rickety age of uneven floors, rough plaster and exposed beams, and is waterproof enough, as long as you don’t mid a bucket under the leak in the bathroom ceiling. Certainly enough to keep 11 people with enough booze to drown those sheep dry, anyway.

We all got up pretty late this morning. OK, we all got up this afternoon, and had a huge cooked breakfast. I really enjoyed it until Lorna and I settled down to wash up. I have never seen so much lard used to cook a meal in my life. Lorna washed the frying pans three times each. We discussed this with Nicki & Suzanne and decided to hide the lard before tomorrow morning.

We all decided to brave the weather and take a trip into Penrith proper. Overnight, the lake had risen high enough that is covered the road in several places. Between those and the places where the torrents of water falling off the hills were drenching the road, it was a slow, wet and slightly nerve-racking journey. Still, we made it and had a few good hours in Penrith, buying some odds and ends - including some waterproofs for me - and enjoying a drink in the pub.

On the way back, Steve suddenly had the bright idea of going on to Howtown, the next village along from the farmhouse where we’re staying. The water had receded a little in the time we’d been out, so this seemed like a good idea, right up until the moment his tyre burst. So, instead of finding out if we had a good local pub, we ended up shivering by the side of a tiny country lane while Steve and Lorna fixed the tyre.

Now I’m back in my room, warming up and looking forward to my dinner. Bliss.

Well, we’re not even out of the first month of 2002 and here I am on my first trip away. I’m writing this on a Virgin Train from London Euston to Penrith. So far, it’s been a surprisingly pleasant experience. It’s been a little while since I travelled by train regularly, as I used to when my job involved travel all over the UK. I’m not sure why, but the service seems to have improved a touch. For an hour I had the four seats around the table to myself, but I’ve now been joined by three ladies on their way home to Carlise.

It makes a really nice change to not be driving. I’ve spent so much time hammering up and down the A12 and M4 over the last year, the chance to travel with minimal effort to myself is really, really pleasant. I’ve got a good chance of arriving rested and refreshed, instead of fried by the idiots that drive on Britain’s road. The one disadvantage is the rather large rucksack I’m carrying. It’s January, and I’m heading for the lake district: it’s gonna be cold. That’s why I need a lot of bulky, warm clothing.

I’ve brought the iBook as an experiment more than anything. I probably won’t be able to e-mail Mum like I did when I was in Scotland late last year. However, given that there are 10 people on this trip, I should be able to have fun with the digital camera and iPhoto. The chance to edit the pics as I go is really appealing. I can just upload them when I get back on Monday night, and people will be able to see them on Tuesday. Roll on the digital lifestyle!

Oh, and it’s Lorna’s birthday. She’s 23. Again. She’s getting really good at being 23 - she’s had years of experience at it now. I’m meeting her at Penrith station (she’s coming from Bristol). Let’s hope she likes her present.

As you go through life, you discover pieces of wisdom that you never suspected you needed to know. The latest piece of wisdom that I’ve discovered is this:

Never go to a party full of people you haven’t seen in five years.

Let me explain. Allie and Simon, friends of mine, have got engaged. After much hassling from Karl & I, they eventually caved in and held a celebratory drinks in a pub in the City. Lorna and I dutifully trooped along last Thursday. Given that I’ve known Allie for 10 years, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that there were mutual friends there that I haven’t seen in half a decade.

Why is this a problem? Well, because a few of them commented that I’d put on weight. Now, from my perspective I’ve lost a lot of weight. When I was in an unhappy relationship a few years back I ballooned. In the three years since I’ve been steadily shedding that weight. Still, from their perspective, I probably am bigger.

Ah well, I’m fitter and stronger than I was back them. If a little bulk comes with it - who cares?

Well, as I mentioned in my last entry today - well, yesterday now given that it’s after midnight, marked two years of Lorna and I being together. We spent the evening several hundred miles apart. Did I mind? No, not really.

For one, she didn’t really have much choice but to be in Bristol. I can’t go into details, because it’s not really fair on her family for me to spill their private affairs all over the web, but suffice it to say that there is a situation that needs sorting and she has gone to make sure it gets sorted. The timing was out of her hands.

For another, well, this has been our life for those two years. Between my Dad’s illness and death and the on-going problems affecting Lorna’s family, we’ve had far less time for each other than we might have liked. Yet, despite that, we’ve always been there for each other, tried to have as much fun and we can and generally held back from hissy fits and drama queen moments when things have been rough. I’ve had relationships fragment under much lesser pressure than this. Let’s hope that we’ve proved the strength of what we’ve got in the last year, and that we get more chances to enjoy it in the year ahead.

Celebrations will commence in full on Thursday. I can’t wait.

Just back from Midnight Mass, and what a lovely service it was. Andrew gave a fantastic (and brief) sermon on fear - “The first thing you learn at Angel school is four words: Don’t be afraid” - that was wonderfully appropriate for us as a family this year. We sang, smiled and cried a little, but it was an uplifting experience. Fiona from next door joined us, and was a great source of support to us all.

After the service, we went to Dad’s graveside for a little while, and cried. I think though, that we all came away with a little more hope, happiness and joy that we’ve all felt for a long time. And that’s not just the Communion wine talking, honest.

Merry Christmas to you all.

This is going to be a strange old Christmas, for all the obvious reasons. There’s an underlying tension in the air at home, as the void in all our lives makes its presence felt.

Still, we’ve had beautiful snow already, everything is done and we’re all prepared to face the big day. Dinner and Midnight Mass are on the agenda for tonight, although I may try to get some writing done in amongst all of that. In a way, this may turn out to be a better Christmas than we’ve had in a little while. Last year was hard because Mark stayed in London with his then-fiancee and Dad was in a lot of pain. Mum’s expectation for the festive season have rarely been met since we passed through puberty.

Perhaps we’ll find something more to celebrate this year, despite our loss.