Errol Flynn, The Theramin and The Saw

Well that’s nearly half of February done, anyone else counting the days? 

2020 was a bit of a bummer, but goodness the opening skirmishes of 2021 have proved to be a bit grim. 

All mirrors in our house have been reversed as Errol Flynn, prancing rapier in hand I ain’t. 

My glasses are broken, hearing’s as bad as it’s been, more drink is flowing through my system than Cock Hanmatt (Presented "What Not To Wear"  in the 90s if memory serves), would like and my coiffure would qualify for a place in the Jackson Five, 

I have attained peak Jack Duckworth, 

Google him kids, he was very much the Errol Flynn of his day…..wait a minute 

In river news, Spring Bottom gives forth gloriously and the river level slowly creeps up which is a sure sign of significant groundwater recharge. I’ve a bridge to build but am currently holding off, as in these strange times with a head full of fug and an increasing requirement for "les frisson" it could end up looking something like this.

 These kids are crossing the Po on their way to school. 

They’re perfectly safe as the photo predates the stocking off Wels catfish by some Teutonic anglers back in the day. The cats grow to an enormous size now and have impacted considerably upon the biodiversity of the river. Some rods present a bait not far off the size of a small boy in their pursuit of il pesce gatto. 

While we’re on school, Madam is in full attendance at the local primary in her twenty first year as a HLTA (Don’t know what it stands for I just nod knowingly and afford the title the reverence it deserves) Half of her charges are in school, half are at home. The half at home receive three hours of online education a day via something called “Teams” Don’t ask me what Teams is because I work outside with my hands and have no requirement for Teams.

Anyway, a few weeks in, it became apparent that security protocols on the Teams meetings had been compromised and one of the eight year olds had somehow managed to set up her own Teams network on the school account for the rest of the class. 

While paying lip service to the education placed before them, the class were talking behind teacher’s back and mucking about in a separate online playground. They kept it up for a few weeks before they were rumbled. 

All very innocent, but away from the webcam all adults raised a smile at the ingenuity and ability of children to adapt to whatever situation is presented. 

I may have been telling tales in class there, so please forget you read the last hundred words or so, 

or at the very least print them off and eat/burn the paper. 

I believe this is how social media works. 

This is social media, right?

It’s been at or below freezing for much of the week but we have missed out on much of the snow. A dusting at best ,the wind has been wicked which has made it feel many degrees colder. 

At which point I’ll return once more to school, where Madam must work in a classroom with all the windows and doors open and no heating. The thermometer in the classroom has hovered around zero degrees all week. Madam teaches in clobber that we bought for a February trip to Vienna and Salzburg a few years back and the fifty percent of the class who attend each day are wrapped up with blankets on their knees. 

Schools are not closed 

Fortunately when it gets this cold I can keep out of the river and head for the workshop. The place has never been so tidy and everything from pencils through drill bits to chainsaws is pin sharp. The little trailer with wide wheels has been cleaned out, tractor buffed up, chainsaw trousers ironed and waders polished. Outside a few snipe have turned up along with a few geese on the top water meadow although not as many as previous winters. There are at least two great egret about and at the weekend the war on willow moves to the Itchen before returning to the Dever next week with some troublesome withies on the mill stream. 

Thank you to everyone who got in touch following the last chunk of guff. 

Mostly Mark Nicholas based but also a significant number of washboard fans. 

In cricket news this week, we can report that Kevin Pietersen was brilliant with William at Lords. He still has the signed bat and photo taken as he made his way back to the pavilion, 

William has the bat signed on the way back to the pavilion, not Kevin.....although 

Bunking off school back in the eighties, five of us caught the train to Old Trafford to take in Lancashire against Northants in the County Championship. It rained for much of the morning and the start was delayed until 5pm. For most of the afternoon we hung around the nets where, despite being on opposing sides, Kapil Dev bowled to Clive Lloyd and Graham Fowler faced up to Neil Mallendar. I have the photos somewhere. We saw five minutes of play before we had to head off home. 

Ian Botham didn't want to have his photo taken, Mike Atherton is a nice guy and Graham Thorpe doesn’t like being a little fella. 

On arrival at one Lords Test with William I read the match programme over coffee and noticed in the player statistics that Thorpe had listed his height as five feet eleven inches which caused an eyebrow to rise.  Ambling around the ground before the start of play, we paused by the half constructed media centre as the players made their way back from the nets to the pavilion. Thorpe passed a few feet in front of William and I inexplicably blurted out, 

“You’re not five foot eleven. I’m nearly five feet nine and you’re a few inches shorter than me” 

The brilliant left hand bat, whose place was under threat from the up and coming and much taller Kevin Pietersen shot me a very old fashioned look before heading off to get changed. 

A few years later when he was between jobs I stood next to him during the lunch interval near the Harris Gardens. I managed to keep my mouth shut on that occasion and I don’t think he remembered our previous encounter.

This week’s musical contribution comes from Craig and Charlie Reid’s formative years. 

Pre Proclaimers the Scottish pop combo had a more “Indie, underground” feel and went by the name of Extreme Tinnitus. 

Here they are on the theramin and saw. 

 

Pretty good eh? 

I am often asked, 

“Chris, what’s it like to suddenly lose eighty percent of your hearing in one ear” 

Complicated tunes on the theramin and saw constantly played in the affected ear, comes swiftly to mind.