Tim and Kesey were made of different stuff, quite literally, and the weather took its toll on Kesey’s aggregate constitution over the years. First, the dog’s head crumbled away after a freeze then, January 1st, I found him supine before the shed. Tim’s enamel has faded a bit and he has a small amount of rust on his left hand but he’s still gardening and guarding as he has for decades.
Now, the entire first month has already come and gone with runs approximately 120 miles, 3 new fish and chips sites, 3 kebabs, and a return to Rail Runs (with 6 ticked off the list).
It snowed again, several times, but nothing like last month. We finally recovered from the Christmas lurgy and got back onto the interior details of the house refurb.
Here’s the cartoon of the month (not necessarily a monthly feature):
Second kebab in a row from a fish & chip place and both were really good. This time it was the Brunswick Fish Bar which featured in one of my Rail Runs last week. Industrial chilli sauce but the veg was crisp and delicious and the lamb tasted like they had just slaughtered it that morning (except for the texture which was purely elephant-leg style kebab). Well worth a second visit for the fish, I reckon.
We went to Walsall to hit up a large Wilco but it had even less stock than the small ones near the house.
Fortunately the charity shops RULED except for some disappointing items we’ve already turned back around to other charity shops in West Brom (the donation being the wager we took on the — as it turned out — shit piece of merchandise, Short Record Review to follow). We had to skip one as a large area of town including one supporting an immigrants’ charity was cordoned off due to a murder investigation:
The best bit of the trip, though, besides the day out (of course) was the great deco and earlier architecture obscured and yet right out there in public.
Lions seemed to be a major theme (some detail snips below) and preservation of functional forms were another pleasant surprise:
The second best was the very much in public freak show that is put on, for free, by the Walsall community in its day to day, in public business. Absolutely golden entertainment . . . keep it up, weirdos.
Oh, and it seems to be a focus of missionaries. As we walked past the above mentioned crime scene we were serenaded by a middle-aged Korean couple with “How Great Thou Art” which was the only song they knew in (I’m guessing it was some broken version of) “English.” Later, we were preached at by some Geordie’s on the same spot that fire and brimstone was later spurted from a West African evangelist then, down the road, some street rappers harangued us and others about Jesus’ imminent return. We felt cleansed in the blood of the and rushed home to enjoy some of our purchases and talk about our adventures.
Later, we started watching a series called “Everyone Else Burns.” You should be able to predict the Short Review for it (if you are some sort of witch).
I like big docs an’ I cannot lie, all you other viewers need to testify…. Okay, I’ve only gotten as far as episode 2 of 4, but it is riveting. You should see it.
We’re not decorators so Maple Haze, the deep autumnal burnt orange we painted the dining room a year and a half ago, was a bold choice. Bold and ill-informed. Returning from a night out in summer or anytime after 4 pm in winter, the lights expose you to the fiery pits of Hades. It has been long overdue for replacement.
We went with Almond White which matches the beige in the fireplace tiles almost perfectly. The above photo shows the penultimate coat. It is definitely less oppressive than before.
Trinity Way Metro was the final existing Metro stop on the Rail Run project although two new ones are long overdue to open this spring in Woverhampton and a whole new line is coming soon, they promise, out through Dudley. For now, I’ll take the win.
I had just finished a first coat of paint over half the dining room and veranda walls and a little of the ceiling so went for this run to allow the paint to dry enough for round two. I took a map, this time, and stayed mostly on trails that haven’t previously featured in this saga with a goal of picking up a kebab and some hardware along the way (both successfully). A little rain, but a pleasant trot overall.
Very good fish and chips for under a fiver. Definitely worth risking a mugging for. Even worth hanging around the lonely, little feller at the counter (a customer) who just wanted to chat about everything.
For example, I asked for more vinegar as is my modus and he became almost inconsolably excited. “Oo! Oo! Also, where does vinegar even come from?” Dissatisfied with my answer, “Tesco,” he continued, “nooooo! I mean, plants or is it a chemical or what?”
“Okay, I see. Well, ultimately it comes from sugar or some other carbohydrate. The most likely pathway is via alcohol with a bacteria added during or after fermentation to convert the wine or cider or what have you to vinegar. But, you can go directly to vinegar with some bacteria which is preferable to some folks who have dietary restrictions against alcohol.”
I finally had him on the ropes and I took a moment to shove a fistful of fries into my face. “The irony is, the direct pathway tends to also produce some residual alcohol while the method where alcohol is converted is more complete.”
He looked confused. “It can all be purified by distillation, though. This involves…” and at this point he held up his hand in defeat. I am such a geek.
It’s a 15 minute train journey from work to Duddeston station and takes about 45 minutes to run back (55 with a stop for fish and chips at the Midland Takeaway, or 1:05 with getting lost in Balsall Heath). So, I made this Rail Run my lunch run on this last day before a wee holiday to work on the dining room and kitchen trim.
The area is pretty bleak but I ran past a house we considered buying and was impressed that the neighbourhood seemed to have improved — albeit only to about the level our West Bromwich buurt was at upon our arrival there. Still, I’m a real fan of industrial decay and the run back to work was absolutely rammed with it.
Cold out but hardly any breeze and the sun was glorious if still at a low, wintery angle and thus in my eyes most of the way. I would blame that for my serpentine route if it wasn’t so obviously my shit sense of direction. But, it turned out alright in the end.
Miserable cold, still, but the ice was mostly gone from the pavements and the migraine I tried to run away from on Friday’s rail run was a distant bad memory so I covered up and headed out to pick up some leeks at the Aldi, a copy of The Observer over at the Clay Pit Lane store, and a reasonably effortless run down the canals to Kenrick Park, one of the last two Metro stops on the Rail Run Project (although the Authority is threatening to open the last two Wolverhampton stands this spring).
The canal was frozen over and, after the above photo, I spotted loads of waterfowl enjoying a saunter around the surface. Only about a third of this trail was new territory but these (Kenrick Park and Trinity Way) were always going to be the hardest ones to do.
The obits are fast and furious this month. Another Athens icon has slipped the coil: William Orten Carlton has passed at the age of 73.
Our first day as residents in Athens, me and the the missus were waiting to get a document from a teller at Wells Fargo Bank and were next in line after Ort who without introduction, hesitation, or prelude of any sort started telling us about some records he found stashed at the bottom of the pile of clothes (fill a garbage bag for a dollar) at the Potters House Thrift Store (that’s what they call charity shops in the States, brits). When he took a breath, we both pointed at the unoccupied teller window and noticed the teller wince as he headed toward her and tried, unsuccessfully, to cash a check (cheque) for $1.37 which was declined because he had an account that required a minimum balance of $5. The negotiation went on for at least a half hour.
You’d run into Ort everywhere, though. At the Globe, in the library, or parked in front of the records or old magazines in another thrift shop near the 40 Watt when it was on Clayton (or Washington? long time ago, now). You could never be sure if he was a customer or employee at any of these because he always acted like he owned the place.
Endless British Pub Crawl (Part 3) 