Question Time.

Photograph Quiz:

                             

Photo no. 103:- So who’s the handsome fella blowing his own trumpet, sounding off his horn??? Why is he blowing off?? What for??

Dear Blog,

          Like question time it is, question time big time. Because my back is still so bad, a shuffle out of the estate gate and a few hundred yards (metres to you Blog) down the Lane and back …. I noticed that all the flowers on the hawthorn in the hedge rows are pink, with a capital ‘P’, this year. Usually the flowers on the bushes and trees have a suggestion of pink, and I know there is a pink variety, but, take a look Blog. PINK. All the bushes with very few exceptions are distinctly pink. Pink Blog, I kid you not. So question number one Blog, is Why? Fukushoma?????????? Chernobyl????????? Blog you may laugh. Until about five years ago I used to trudge with sweat adripping in the sand dunes of Harlech in North Wales until those conservation wallahs moved in and stuck up wire fencing to prevent erosion. I went there regularly. To Harlech. To sweat. If I had a hot marathon coming up, I used to run in the dunes in a thin wet suit and sweat buckets and buckets …. But I used the procedure successfully to adapt to the feeling of dehydration in a race. I’ll say a lot more about adaptation in my next letter or two and tell you what I did, if you are slightly interested Blog. Anyway, back to my tale of Wales, Jonah. I used to train in Harlech ‘til the dunes were declared fragile. As part of the routine, I used to also do long runs into the hills behind the village, or for a fast long flat run, I used to fight the traffic into Ffestineogogagogogo and back. Now Chernobyl, if you didn’t know Blog, happened in 1986. The whole lot went up in April, with a great big mushroom cloud. Well not exactly. But a cloud did drift to the UK and plonked a great deal of glowy sparkly stuff on the hills. In Harlech the sheep used to glow in the dark. The farmers were not supposed to allow the lamb and mutton to enter the food chain, the government paying compensation for the loss of income incurred. Over the next few years, one of the local farmers told me that the flocks of sheep in the area mushroomed in size … for obvious reasons. Compensation, Blog, Compensation. And was any of the sheep sent to market via the fields of winter grazing in the Midlands. Not allowed??? As the farmer said, the sheep had to come down off the high hills for the winter and needed feeding during the cold months. And when did the government give the all clear that the radiation had dropped to an insignificant level, Blog???  As far as the press was concerned, interest in the topic soon waned. This tale of Wales was no longer of importance, not even to Ahab. No one asked the government for information about radiation levels, or the safety of the meat in the area. I say nothing because I DO NOT KNOW, but some of the farmers in the area still have large flocks for some reason?????  Must get myself a half life.

Onto question number two Blog ….Why has the local newspaper gone into Purdah with athletics’ reporting in the area??? The Midland Men’s Track League has come and gone and not a dickie bird. Not a peep. The Women’s Midland Track league has come and gone and not a dickie bird. Not a peep. The Young Athlete’s Track League has come and gone and not a dickie bird. Not a peep. The club won the Kenilworth Festival Relay but not a dickie bird. Not a peep. Our first club member has been selected for the athletics at the 2012 Olympic Games in London and not a dickie bird. Not a peep. Coventry Godiva’s 2012 Olympic representative and not a dickie bird. Not a peep. What’s the expression Blog, ‘Hot off the press’? Suggest for ‘e’  read ‘i’!! The irony is that the athlete would have had a half page write up with photos if he had dressed up as Mickey Mouse and beaten Mini by one place in finishing in thirteen thousand five hundred and seventy ninth place in the Canary Isle Half Marathon Off Road Fun Run raising funds for distressed budgies. Don’t get me wrong Blog, I personally have nothing against Budgies. Not very tasty in a sandwich mind. The ratio of feathers to meat is too big in my humble opinion. And the beak tends to be very chewy.

And finally Blog. Question number three … the biggie with a capital ‘B’. What am I to do about my back. Eight days without a serious trudge. EIGHT. 8. In the last 50 years I don’t think I have ever been trudgeless for so long and that includes my various operations and confinements in hospital. ‘To trudge or not to trudge?’ that is the question. ‘Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the aches and pains of the physio’s bills or cross the palm of an acupuncturist with silver. I tell you Blog, my mortal coil has just about had it, just about had it Blog ….’

                        But say la vie Blog, say la vie. Colin