Hot Enough Yet?

A pale three quarter moon presides over a still, stifling evening. Night is drawing in on what has been the hottest September day since 1911. That is a very long time. It was a day for Pimm's at the beach and paddling not sitting in an office. My travels took me out and I cooked as I walked. What a day.

I'm back in my reality. A little like the phoney war of 1939 where very little happened we are quietly waiting for the explosion that will be in a fortnight. I got a little bit done but it was hard. Not many people about today so quite laid back. When will it change?

All is not so well in my sporting world. Harlequins and West Ham both lost, the latter in a dismal arrogant disaster. Worse still the newly reformed Los Angeles Rams were truly embarrassed by their hated rivals in San Francisco. I'm still making my way through the 1st quarter and I shudder to think what I will see later. Not a good start.

Despite these setbacks I remain more upbeat than a year ago. I will sit on an interview panel on Thursday that will bring reinforcements. Will it be enough? Any extra helps. A brave new world may be ahead with processes and offerings radically changed. Such changes inevitably take time so maybe when I write next September we will know more.

In the mean time a day at a time. Today brought new boots and simple chicken marinated in thyme, Dijon mustard, honey and rapeseed oil. Good things must be appreciated and each helps me along.

Keep going out there in this heat. See you soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Twice Cooked Pork.

Hello on this lovely Sunday afternoon. How are you all? Hoping those who can are having a day of rest, of fine food and general goodness as the weekend progresses.

And me? I'm home listening to Handel and slow roasting shoulder of pork. My love of pork is well known on this blog but pork roasted 2 days in a row is unusual even for me. The wonderful Szechuan dish twice cooked pork is an all time favourite of mine but today's twice cooked does not refer to that this weekend.

Rather having sublime loin of pork with roast cauliflower yesterday at The Hole in the Wall. For those not in the know it is owned and run by former Masterchef finalist Alex Rushmer and is truly magnificent. Check it out http://www.holeinthewallcambridge.com/ .

Following on in a slightly more amateur way is my own effort at a lovely Sunday dinner. Just seasoned with salt and pepper it will roast for 4 hours on a low heat and be served with roast potatoes and 3 different vegetables which have yet to be selected. I always eat well on a Sunday.

This is a particularly important Sunday though in the sense that after several months break the NFL returns to our screens and each week I'm consumed by 4-5 games to feast my eyes on. I enjoyed Thursday night's efforts from Denver. Of more interest though will be my beloved Rams on late tomorrow night against the hated 49ers. History will be made as the storied Rams franchise plays their first game based back where they belong in Los Angeles.

I'm not too worried about the other reality tomorrow. The alarm as noted yesterday will be a severe test. That is always a given. I haven't looked at any e mails for days so that will be the first task to wade through. I guess the rest we will find out when I get there.

Back to Handel now and more reading.

I Heard a Voice.

Sepia Fades Too.

There are not too many Cambridge Colleges that I have not been in. Some of the graduate colleges like Wolfson, St Edmund's and Hughes Hall have not been on my journey. If I were to have my time again I would have applied to Hughes Hall for the PGCE.

Of the undergraduate colleges only Christ's, possibly Peterhouse-my memory is hazy on that one-and Magdalene are unvisited by me. On Thursday afternoon I strayed in Magdalene territory with a visit to The Pickerel Inn. Magdalene was the last bastion of pure testosterone in Cambridge as it only admitted women in my time there. It was a rugger buggers college in those days full of public school toffs who mourned the passing and the fall of masculinity in their college.

The Pickerel as I suspected is adorned with Magdalene sporting photos from the 1990s. Not long after I was there yet before most of my students were actually born. All those pictures, I hold similar ones of my time rowing, on the rugby pitch and captaining the university at American football back at dad's, seemed so important then. We favoured sepia in our arrogance. And so as I looked at these pieces of history I realised that sepia like us in the pictures fades to obscurity.

In years to come will I be recalled as piece of Cambridge history fading away on a pub wall? Maybe. It shows the transient nature of life, education, and eventual responsibility.

Back home now after 2 colleges, various friends, the aforementioned Pickerel, Jayne's house, The Boot, The Red Lion and The Rose and Crown in Histon, and lunch at the acclaimed Hole in the Wall at Little Wilbraham today, my holiday is almost complete.

I think I feel better than this time a year ago. The anxiety seems less. But I'm not looking forward to that alarm calling to muster on Monday morning that will be the prelude to the charge of the heavy brigade when the students arrive in 2 weeks.

And so on a drizzly autumn day, having passed the fields of stubble in the black earth of East Anglia, time has past and will now move on. Take care out there.

I Heard a Voice

Is It Finally Working?

The air is heavy and still. The sun finally burst through just as I was leaving a country pub. Is this what we call an Indian Summer? I don't know what constitutes such an event but I sure as hell am glad I'm not in the at times stifling office at work.

After another night of bad dreams I woke up very anxious. I really struggled to get out of bed as well as chastising myself for not doing so. Why has the anxiety returned? I'm on holiday so what is there to worry about?

I suspect part of it is the ongoing saga of that wretched phone. When I saw Kiwi Sarah she commented on needing an upgrade. It was a year overdue. But I certainly wouldn't have bothered had I known it would be this much trouble. After my fourth trip to the shop the early signs are that it is finally working. A test text to Jayne elicited a response. Nothing back yet from Dory but I know she went back to work this week.

My trip to town was not wasted. I spent on a couple of vouchers that I was given, one by dad and one by work. Both have a few pounds and pence left over but not worth anything. My gleaming prize though is Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's mighty new book. I struggled to lift it let alone read it. But I looks forward to it. The other voucher from dad paid for a jumper in the sale at John Lewis. Once winter arrives that will be useful.

After shopping as I'm wont to do it was a country pub. This time The Goat at Codicote. Lovely village, can't understand why I haven't been back for 4-5 years.

Home now in time for Choral Evensong on Radio 3 and a glass of Pimm's. Yes I know it out of season but it is like summer's day out there and I want to cool down.

You won't hear from me until I'm back from Cambridge now. Until then, take care and I'll see you soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Found the Culprit?

Another week, any time off session. I'm entering the second week of my leave and the bad dreams continue. Funnily enough the same thing happened last year. But I will move on.

Intent on trying to find out what is wrong with my new phone I set off comparatively early for town. Went back to the shop and they told me it has something to do with iCloud which I didn't even know I had on my old phone. Being the idiot that I am I'm not capable of sorting it out myself but will have to go back yet again with both phones. Let us hope that is the culprit. How did we ever get so dependent on such gadgets?

Life used to be simpler but alas no more. I didn't tarry long in town and popped by the butcher on my way home. So tonight there is liver and tomorrow a Thai chicken curry. Back at home I have Mendelssohn's Paulus playing and have been making a soup from Sam and Sam Clark's first Moro book. Just about to try it. Excellent! Peas, Iberico Jamon and mint. Hugely refreshing.

After soup is anyone's guess. Probably a little reading. But what? Do I turn once again to Ernest Hemingway? Or to my submarine book? Or more preparation for the NFL season that starts on Thursday? That off season certainly went fast.

Hope you're all having a good day? Greetings again to our French cousins who are currently outranking Brits in viewing my mumblings. Talking of which I've just gone over 39,000 hits. Pleased with that.

I Heard a Voice.

Sodden Pitches and Slippery Balls.

The last time I set foot on a rugby pitch to actually play was around the autumn of 1990. Yes that fateful year where my life plummeted into despair. Rugby had been a huge part of my life from aged 8 when I first stepped onto a muddy field at The Downs School near Bristol in 1977. A career of limited success, much mud, cold and rain ended with a torn leg muscle that fateful autumn 13 years later.

Yesterday I took a trip down memory lane and braved pouring rain and generally meteorological mayhem to watch Harlequins at Twickenham. Lovely but cold day out, wet but not too miserable and after much effort the Quins emerged victorious.

So another outing on what has proved to be a pleasant and in the main relaxing escape from the world. That said feeling in danger of once again taking on too much I have postponed a couple of catch ups with friends.

I now have 4 clear days of very little, just to chill. Then on Thursday I will be Cambridge bound. Another trip back into my past. For today I'm doing the usual reading, listening and cooking. Tonight's menu brings a joint of smoked gammon. I did invite my friend Mike but he is very much a creature of habit who only ventures out twice a week so I think it will be an invitation that will go unaccepted.

Perhaps a walk might be plan after the opera, could probably do with the exercise. See you later in the week.

I Heard a Voice.

The Ebbing Tide of Change.

Welcome to September. A month that I'm very fond of. The tide of summer is ebbing away, cooler days await, beautiful leaf falls, the NFL, and my annual 2 week break from the madness. Although still warm out there the overcast skies show certain change.

Having spent way too much on shopping, a small amount on lunch with Yang and a gentle drive home I'm now back with my opera and planning an afternoon of reading.

Plans for next week have finally emerged. Feeling slightly overwhelmed I've cancelled a couple of thing to simplify my life. Now it just lies with my first visit to Twickenham in over 25 years to watch Harlequins then catching the train next Thursday to Cambridge to visit Jayne and finally meet up with my former colleague Richard who now works up there.

Cambridge has defined so many sections my life. But sadly not recently despite my efforts. That said on the day that marks the 9th anniversary of my move to Hertfordshire I could live in worse counties. Okay so work at times derails me and sometimes the pressure gets too much but in the main I am settled in my adoptive county.

And few places in this county are finer that St Alban's where I met up with my friend Kevin yesterday. Such a good day, fine lunch at Little Marrakech, and visits to The Boot, The White Swan and The Lower Red Lion. St Alban's has some wonderful hostelries.

Thus I leave you on a quiet Friday afternoon at the beginning of another autumn, may it be good for all of you.

I Heard a Voice.