Fifteen years ago today we landed at Heathrow with two cats and started this Great British adventure. Since then both cats have died, we’ve lived in 7 houses then bought the 8th one, I’ve had jobs at 3 universities (Cambridge, Oxford, Birmingham), Jackie has become a medical librarian, we’ve got another cat, and I’ve run a little over 25,000 miles in this country stopping at 2676 pubs along the way. It can’t go on forever, but 15 more would be nice.
We had her just over 5 years but she was neglected and deserves better. I first test rode the Gazelle a week after putting in my notice at Oxford and, still a bit of hard work, I took her for one last spin the Friday after Thanksgiving whilst delivering her to a charity that fixes them up for refugees who need sturdy transport.
Along the canal journey, I worked out a few weather related hitches (the gear shift chain was a little rusty) and spotted some sites like the horse on the canal with the weird tower looming in the background. At home, I remembered to locate it and can kick myself for not going to inspect (I have another bike to drop off, so maybe then).
There was beer involved (of course) but the pub I most wanted to hit, the Staffordshire Knot, wasn’t open despite it being after published opening time. Still, I made it to the New Junction before and the Crown after so the holiday weekend ride wasn’t just for duty and honour.
I use pennies because they are the right size for the job.
The one on the left is the one we were using with Debra, the one on the right is the one I started during the Women’s World Cup Final.
If you don’t know about Paul Gustings Day (6th August), then you are somehow living a dull and inconsequential existence. You may be doing so, anyway, but there’s the test with a criterium (sufficient but not necessary).
I won’t make any more of it than I treat it as a version of one of the annual ‘Buy A Stranger A Drink Day’ except that I act as an even more miserable sod than normal to my beneficiary.
Pontificating on water, Mr Gustings apparently said, “I don’t drink that shit.” Happy Birthday, sir.
My grandmother’s birthday was a few days ago. She would have been 134 had she not been taken from us at the tender age of 95 back in 1984. A 134 year old grandmother is not what makes me feel old.
Grandma’s favourite song that I knew of was “Only The Good Die Young” by Billy Joel.
I’ve gotten a new cap so I’m getting rid of two old ones.
I made a carrot cake from Molly Katzen’s recipe. Happy Birthday.
The longest I have gone without an alcoholic beverage since I was 15 years old (barring the six weeks of ‘Total Control’ during Basic Combat Training in 1983, and even then one guy in my platoon managed to get some acid smuggled in on a letter during that period), has been about 5 days — when I was in a thoracic ward with a collapsed lung.
So, this year instead of mocking Jackie’s bid to do Dry January we put aside the liquor, beer, and wine at bedtime on January 2 when our Christmas break ended (late, sure but hey, we’re not the Taliban) and I haven’t touched a drop until the dram in today’s morning coffee. {She’s been a little looser with the taps but generally kept to the spirit of the whole thing.}
I’ve gained weight (but, my stomach looks like I’ve lost a bit due to the reduced alcohol bloat). I don’t feel any better, I haven’t noticeably slept better, my exercise performance is more-or-less static, and I don’t seem to think any clearer. I still sweat profusely upon any exertion and I still pee like I bear the kidneys of a much older man than I am.
I think this abstinence thing is a scam. Cin cin!
The Queen’s party was what we expected. American press will have shown Americans videos of a selection of Royalist twats and made it sound like everyone here feels happy and, frankly, blessed that we have a monarch. Here’s what you actually see on the ground.
West Brom went all out by actually cleaning up the empty beer cans, half eaten kebabs, and puke Wednesday night. Not a sign of any celebratory decorations from the council were anywhere to be seen.
First ones I found were the flags in the Hop Pole. Later, we spotted the betting shop across the way all tarted up.
The backwards N and the missing second E made the healthy fast food place festive:
Decoron, where we get most of our paint, went with wallpapered corgis:
No one really begrudges the old lady her party — you know she drove a lorry during the war, right? But, the idea of royalty in a modern republic or even in our four tenuously bound countries is both grating and embarrassing. A ragged union flag and some litter are a fitting metaphor:
If this review were like the Short Reviews, it would read, “Well, that sucked.”
But, it isn’t so it doesn’t. Bear in mind that it did so it could.
Running: at just under 1100 miles for the year (1083, precisely), a combination of injuries and sloth conspired to keep the distances down. The longest run of the year was a scant 15.6 miles a couple of weeks ago, more than the weekly average through much of March and April:
The Rail Run Project continues but most of the low hanging fruit is depleted with longer runs and rides involved from here on in. I still expect this effort to continue throughout 2022.
Drink: it must be taking a toll on my health but as I look back on my health this year and compare it to the Fines and Fees data I feel as if I am immune to the deleterious effects of alcohol.
With pubs closed much of the year, I only visited 19 new gaffs and quaffed a mere 56 beers (mostly at home) but made up for it with 154 bottles of wine (that’s my intake, or 308 bottles for the household) and the equivalent of 76 bottles of hard liquor (152 for the house). That’s about 3.5 times the average consumption in the UK (and, for the shock value, Russia). I should get a grip on this (the amount seemed typical to low compared to years past).
| Wine (bottles) | Beers | Booze (litres) | |
| January | 13.4 | 2 | 4.3 |
| February | 6.8 | 1 | 4.4 |
| March | 10.9 | 2 | 4.8 |
| April | 13.9 | 4 | 4.7 |
| May | 20.3 | 1 | 1.1 |
| June | 12.0 | 1 | 4.0 |
| July | 12.0 | 5 | 5.4 |
| August | 11.5 | 4 | 4.4 |
| September | 11.4 | 7 | 4.0 |
| October | 12.5 | 2 | 4.5 |
| November | 14.4 | 15 | 4.3 |
| December | 14.7 | 12 | 7.6 |
| daily (mL): | 316 mL | 77 mL | 145 mL |
The year ahead: more Short reviews, at least monthly chippy and kebab meals, try to stay healthy for the big run at the end of Summer, do serious damage to the Rail Run Project, keep hitting pubs albeit at an attenuated pace, and just continue to try.
Goals on January the 1st, 2020 (completed):
DNF for the year:
Somewhere on the Harborne rail trail July 17 during the commuter run into work, I logged my 20,000th mile since moving to Britain. A few hundred of those have been in Italy, Germany, The Netherlands, Belgium, Ireland, and the USA but a milestone nonetheless.
Obits in these pages:
There was COVID. There were lockdowns. I continued to work — harder than usual in a lot of ways — at the labs throughout and, with the minimised human contact, I’ve sustained the longest continuous period without any symptoms of physical illness that I can remember.
Most years suck in retrospect. 2020 sucked as it was happening almost every minute of the year so it is hard to apply normal benchmarks. Looking back, it sucked no more over the background noise than most other years; but the background noise includes 1 in every 1000 Americans AND Brits dying of the virus just since March; it includes Donald Trump getting almost 75 million votes; the background shit is piled so high you barely can make out the death of Democracy or the flailing ineptitude of the current UK government or actual Crimes Against Humanity (such as, Taylor Swift continues to put out records).
So, here’s to 2021. No plans, this year. I have a fines-and-fees structure for the period from now until Thanksgiving that should pay for a nice holiday when one is possible again…more on F&F with the monthly reports in a few weeks.
Six full months into the bastard year 2020 and I am taking stock of my New Year goals when things looked a lot different than now. It is day 182 so the real midpoint of this leap year is tomorrow, but 6 months seems a nice demarcation.
I planned on 52 commuter runs either to or from work. So far, I’m at 48 and feel on track to go into surplus in two weeks. 24 of each, right now, but TO is easier than FROM in the darkness of Autumn and Winter. Of this year’s miles so far, 468 are from commutes.
Malaise, illness, other priorities, and just plain laziness had really seemed to doom the 2020 miles goal for 2020. But, I ran 63 out of 72 days of the Total Lockdown and have run every day since May 2 (in large part due to the Great Virtual Run Across Tennessee). My mileage at 31 March was only 355 but today stands at 1042, well past the 1010 halfway point. Monthly, it looked like this:
| January | 120 |
| February | 89 |
| March | 146 |
| April | 151 |
| May | 251 |
| June | 285 |
An ultra is probably off the books for this year; I really can’t consider the GVRAT counting as one since it isn’t all in one go. I had planned on the Liverpool-Leeds Canal Race at the August Bank Holiday but despite their hopes of holding it, I can’t count on the pubs along the way being open so my nutrition strategy from The Ridgeway would have to be completely retooled (as of today, the pubs have been closed 102 days and will almost certainly go down again the way everyone is behaving). An alternative in November, a 24 hour ‘race’ tracked by GPS to see how far from the Centre of England you can get by any route, is sold out for this year.
The planned Weekly World Tour of Local Shop Bevvies didn’t even get started until Lockdown but now stands at 37 (all beers, now, although I have made it through a dizzying array of Russian and Polish white liquors, too):
Poland: 20
Lithuania: 8
Russia: 5
Latvia: 2
Slovakia: 1
Czechia:1
Refurbs continue on the new home, but the supply line disruptions put kinks in the overly ambitious original plans. We have yet to start on the major electrical work or the wood floor refinishing (both being coupled). The 2nd fireplace is still intact and the 1st one still awaits an insert. But, the upstairs bath is done, the garden has come along, and the WC/laundry is nearly finished. We won’t be finished with the full list by Christmas but could easily be by this time next year.
Finally, though not part of the original goals I started mapping Canal Furniture and other interesting waterway items. The map has categories for Bridges (and Aqueducts and Tunnels), Locks, Gauging Stations, Graffiti, and Misc Points of Interest — each of which can be toggled on or off. The project should continue to grow although there are some tow paths I tread with dull regularity (see “commuting”).
Endless British Pub Crawl (Part 3) 