The Elder and the Cricket

Miss me?

Didn’t think so! Seeing as you are here now, you may as well find out what I have been up to. I have not been at work so for the first time in a long time I have been busy doing something.
Last Sunday I gathered some personal belongings, dug out my passport and went to the doctors to get my jabs. I was off to the land where the vowel is king.

The North of England! Cheshire to be precise. It’s an interesting place. The language can be a bit difficult at first and the natives can get a bit muddled, however after visiting the north for many years now, I can make myself understood (for some interesting reason they call 'dinner', 'Tea' up t'north).

I was going up to visit my family, especially "The Elder" or Granny as she is more commonly known. It may shock you to learn that all my mothers side of the family are from the North, but it’s not their fault. My granny was actually from Coventry working on the north/south Border controls, but 1940 was not a good year for Coventry. The football league was suspended, and Mr Goerings’ half time air show and firework display raised the city to the ground. After being bombed out twice they decided it might be safer to move.

My Granny is not the soft, genteel, nurturing woman you may imagine. In fact, as I was growing up, she makes no secret of the fact that she didn’t like children…. Especially southerners.
Sadly, she now resides in a home after loosing her leg. Her condition had deteriorated rapidly and her body has all but given up on her. She suffers form paralysis and can now only make minimal movement with her head. She’s also going blind.

Now, for ordinary people this would be too much to cope with. Not Granny! Her slightly spiteful nature and her cast iron will to live until she's a 100 means she’s determined to carry on fighting. She’s fighting for fighting’s sake because realistically she cannot got any better, and THAT is why my friends I feel very privileged to call her my Granny.

I said goodbye to my aunts, uncles and cousins, as it unlikely I will be up again before I go to Canada (4 weeks today), But I said a special goodbye to Granny, because medical opinion would indicate that she is unlikely to still be around when I get back. I hope she hangs around long enough for me to write and tell her what things are like in Vancouver. She managed a little smile as I left room 45 of the nursing home, which suggests to me that she may just surprise us all.

As I drove back to the safety and comfort of the south (the temperature went up 9 degrees along the M6), I got a text from my Dad. He was inviting me on a corporate jolly to watch Essex V’s Australia cricket match. Corporate jolly really equates to huge piss up with some cricket thrown in for good measure. I was given an extra ticket so I though I’d take Ian along as well.

It was a beautiful sunny day in Chelmsford, the box was lovely and the cricket spectacular. Now I’m not sure how much I should admit to in this post. Mainly, because I can’t remember anything after 5pm. I don’t really remember trying to unsuccessfully chat up our barmaid. Luckily for me, Ian was earwigging so he was able to remind me if all the horrifying details the next day. I really really loathe myself sometimes. What Ian didn’t know is that I didn’t have any of my business cards on me at the time, so I gave the barmaid one of his instead. As yet he hasn’t heard anything.

I also remember going to the pub afterwards, going on about work to these kind people that funded my inebriation and playing bad darts with my Dad. My Father then abandoned me and left me to my fate. I was very drunk and I answered to no man! Lord knows what happened next!

I do remember smoking a cigar (Why O lord? Why? You know it gives me a headrush that I really could have done without), then being bundled in the back of a people carrier and driven home.

I awoke to be not very well at some ungodly hour in the morning. I was starting to wish the grim reaper had taken me in the night, rather than suffers the morning after the day before hangover. I made a decision that if I thought I could get to work without throwing up on the underground, I would make the Herculean effort to make it in.

I did! Dad called me on my mobile thinking that I wouldn’t have made it to work. He asked if I was still alive? After I said I was, he didn’t try to kill me. So I couldn’t have done too much damage! He had a quick laugh about the day and said he’d see me tomorrow. I may have got away with it.

For gods sake kids.... Drink responsibly. Don't go through the day after paranoia that is suffocating me. I'm weak but I am trying to be a better man.

(Pictures to follow when I can work out how to get the photos from my camera to my sisters laptop)

P.S. I found out that Keira Knightly is a West Ham Fan. It was MEANT to be.