For a reason I cannot quite discern, I have the knack of waking up literally one or two minutes before the hour and this facility has not deserted me because I awoke at 5.59 yesterday morning – I allowed myself to stay in bed for an extra half hour before getting up to start my day in which I need to pack up and then get started on my journey home back to Bromsgrove. When I returned back to my hotel bedroom after the Christmas meal with my family, I stumbled into the film ‘Oppenheimer’ the once so-called ‘father of the atomic bomb’ Here I performed my usual trick of watching most of the very long film which was nearly three hours long and, after climbing into bed, falling asleep in the last quarter of an hour. As it was broadcast on BBC I can always get it on catch-up should I feel so inclined. This morning as I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror I muttered to my myself as my fair was all uncombed that I looked like the ‘Wild man of Borneo’. This was the caption to an illustration to which I must have been exposed as a young child in the conservative 1950’s and must have ben derived from an implicit racism in the encylopaedias that I may have read which themselves were probably written in the 1930’s but I have not managed as yet to track down the origins of the expression. In the evening before yesteday, I realise that I needed to get the correct QR codes loaded onto my phone ready for my journey during the day. I used the laptop to locate the relevant file from ‘The Trainline’ which contained the QR code for the journey home and then forwarded it again to myself on my email thus ensuring it was the first item to be found in the email and thus accessible easily on my phone and also when I need it. So many people now use this system that to actually see cardboard tickets being produced is quite rare as every man ad his dog seems to be using smart phones these days.Contemplating the next few days before Christmas, I realise there is quite a lot to be done if I do not wish to leave everything to Christmas Eve. So I am minded to go for my Christmas shopping in the late afternoon of Monday after I have returned home. Then I need to ensure that I have some supplies of damson gin, which will need some bottling to be done, ready for my Pilates class on Tuesday and my annual performance as ‘Sant Claus’ for the benefit of my class mate. This involved waiting until the last five minutes of the class when we traditionally have a period of ‘relaxation’ and then creeping out into the nearby toilets so I can perform a quick change before I make my entrance. I might forego the normal little ditty that I used to sing (‘A variation on the Christmas song of ‘I saw Mummy kissing Santa Claus’) to which I used to supply my own words) Fortunately, there is the minimum of Christmas presents to be wrapped up this year as my son and I have come to an understanding not to give each other Christmas presents this year) One little tradition which my Yorkshire family has evidently engaged for years is for family members to buy (or more likely make) little cloth creatures which can be animals, birds, angels or what-have-you which are then hung on the tree but preserved as tree decorations from one year to the next. As some of these deoration can be decades old, then they act as a remindder of both the gift donor as well as the gift recipient. Of course, every family has its own little traditions and rituals – one of mine used to make an exceptionally ‘stiff’ dry martini which was drunk in the late morning and meant that the final preparations for Christmas dinner were always performed under the influence of some happy alcohol-induced euphoria. This year, I have been detailed to supply the starters and sweets for the Christmas dinner but my Yorkshire family had prepared a huge sherry-enriched trifle which was highly appreciated.
So now I started my train journey back home. I caught an express train from Harrogate to Leeds but was only allowed about 12 minutes to find the new connection. This involved a long walk along the platform, rapid consultation of the departures board where it detailed the 11.15 as going to Exeter and then I had a walk, a ride in a lift, a walk along the bridge and down again so I got to my connection with only 3 minutes to spare. I did not have time to examination the list of intermediate stations on the departure board but reasoned that this was the only departure and surely a train. going cross country would have to make a call at Birmingham New Street. But the train manager who was evidently a bit overwhelmed failed to mention Birmingham New Street when she read out a list of visiting stations and it was only when we got to Tamworth that we were informed that Birmingham New Street would be our next port of call. So I was in a state of some anxiety that I was actually on the right train and the train being so crowded, it took way beyond the allocated time to get passengers on and off the train and so we were eventuakly running about 10 minutes. This gave me about three or four minutes to catch the Bromsgrove connection so I made a dash to the platform from which the Bromsgrove usually departs. It was one minute late, I was thirty seconds late but I did catch my allocated drain with 30 seconds to spare. My son and I had made a prior arrangement to pick me up and I was very pleased to see him and he had even brought over a bit of spare food which just needed a quick burst in the microwave. After I had eaten, I visited ny local groceery store and go the ‘Christmas’ shopping done quite quickly and as I was unpacking got a welcome call from my Droitwich friend. She popped over so that we could spend a pleasant evening together which we did and we are both contemplating exercise classes, yoga in the case of my friend and my regular Pilates (plus a quick flash of Santa Claus) for myself.