Author: peterb51

 18th March Wednesday 

Another glorious day, an early morning walk to awaken the senses.

I have really enjoyed these past few days.

Having the freedom to walk the dogs and just run their hearts out is not something I cannot do in America. There is nothing close to let our dogs off the leash and letting them run. There are parks a short car journey away, but even then people are reluctant to let their animals loose.

Early morning walks are not something we do, Kelli has her morning rituals, taking an hour to look natural, but she can’t be rushed, just selecting suitable clothing for the day is a complex process, requiring input from the weather channel.

But I guess the main reason for coming back to England is the change of routine that is important, it’s about seeing my friends and family, the cottage doesn’t feel like my home, even though it’s full with my possessions. I’m a transatlantic gipsy trying to integrate with American culture, and maintain the one of my homeland, I need, and always will keep my Britishness.

The day was made perfect by yet another custard slice courtesy of my sister Nicola.

This one had to be savoured as it is likely the last for a while. The excess custard dropped on the plate, I hadn’t perfected the correct eating protocol, nearly, but some of the filling got away from me. This requires “ the finger scoop” which I conducted perfectly.

I continued to wade through the video tapes, finding the one Bob Wood conducted tests on glass doors from back in July 2002, I think it was all about customer confidence, although it did highlight the product vulnerability, not that we didn’t already know that.

18th March 2025

It was a beautiful morning, a time I feel that’s it’s great to be alive. I see how the sun has been called the life giver, I opened my eyes wide and took a deep breath, it was going to be a good day.

As the dogs were exploring and sniffing at everything, I contemplated my life, as I do regularly. I found some video tapes, from an old format that I had forgotten about. Fortunately I still had the player that worked, so I slipped in a tape and waited to see what was on it.

The screen flickered into life, I saw images of my visit to Hong Kong from December 1999. It reminded me of all the great opportunities given to me working for Herman Miller. 

I went there with Tim Wallace, where we were developing a desk solution for China.

I think we spent ten day travelling around, the industrial areas of China looking at venders who could manufacture product, little did we know years later that we would have a manufacturing plant there.

It was fun watching all the scenes that I had captured, I expect the landscape has changed drastically since then.

I reminded me of things that we have lost, and didn’t realise it. The paper boy deliveries, the milkman making his deliveries at seven in the morning, this was part of the world when “making a living” was more important that making vast profits, or so it seemed.

It was a time when deliveries were made without charge, unlike now when that charge cost more than the item you want delivered.

But we accept the changes, moan about them, but carry on our lives.

My friend Dave from the studio days came over, almost immediately he starts talking. Like my time with Martin forgetting names was the common thread. We spent a lot of time Googling to complete our conversation. 

We talked about humour, and how it’s used to defuse situations, we both shared the belief that there is humour in every situation, including grief. He was alway accused of being insensitive, like the time he told the joke about two men in a pub, one said “My wife told her father to go into the garden and pick some peas for dinner. Whilst he was doing it, he had a heart attack”

The other man replied “ That is terrible, what did you do?”, the first man replied, “open a tin”.

Unfortunately he was telling it to a person whose father had just died of a heart attack.

It was like the time when Kelli’s dad, Dave, died. I was one of the pole bearers. When the casket was slid out of the hurst and I took the full weight, which was considerable, I asked the question, “ Did he have to be buried with all his tools?” I thought it was funny.

I hope that when I go, someone will make a joke about me, lord knows there must be a lot to choose from.

17th March 2025

There is something satisfying about clearing brambles. The cutting of the stalks, the excitement of filling the bags give an unbelievable sense of achievement.

“Well that’s sad” I hear you say “is that the best use of your time?” The answer is, for me, it’s a job that needs to be done, and I’m prepared to do it. I have to be busy, if I’m not, I feel I am wasting my time. There have been instances when it’s raining, curtailing any outside work, I am desperate for something to do, it’s a nightmare. So the hours mindlessly clipping is my therapy, but part of me wants to get back to Kelli and work on the pieces of shit that she has acquired. She has done a brilliant job keeping the business going. I have listened to her frustration, trying to give advice, but it’s not the same as getting your hands on a problem.

Recently the mornings start with the dog walk, they know the moment I pick up the leads. Bobby, starts barking, and jumping, his lead has to go over his head, easier said than done. There is a technique that I have learned, after endless attempts, firstly he tries to eat it, but it’s down to distraction. Once he has been harnessed he continues to bark loudly, in my ear, as I turn my attention to Dexter.

His lead is a lot more simple, but finding the buckle in amongst his long hair is the hardest part. I swear, when his kicks the bucket I want a wig made from his long flowing locks, I would look like Tina Turner.

When all that rigmarole is finished, it off on the walk. Both pull me along, Bobby, although short and low to the ground, is immensely strong, and could pull a battleship.

As soon as reach the old golf course, I let them loose, it is that “Born Free” moment.

It’s an exhilarating stroll, colder than I thought, but they are a lot more docile after their work out, then it’s back to the cottage for breakfast and more bramble cutting.

16th March 2025

After a brisk walk with the dogs around the old golf course, I drove back to the cottage for breakfast. Staying in someone else’s house is fine, but getting back to familiar territory is best for me. I also had food that I need to get rid of.

My main task was to start tidying the garden, ready for the new growth that has started to emerge. I’m always surprised how long it takes to clip and trim, but I look forward to the burn. This has alway interested, or rather fascinated me from an early age. Building a camp fire, or bonfire is right up there with climbing trees. If I hadn’t been in engineering I could have been an arsonist, although not in a destructive sense, I just liked burning stuff.

As the smoke billowed from my incinerator I was expecting a visit from the local Green Party representative blaming me for global warming, but I didn’t, which was just as well because I wouldn’t be very cooperative.

As it happened, the fire didn’t last long, not because I didn’t have things to burn, more likely I wasn’t quick enough to re-feed it.

I finished early because I was meeting up with Amilie and her boyfriend Luke.

It’s so refreshing to see sensible young people, without any odd beliefs that are often fuelled by social media trends. We must have spoken more in this meeting than we ever have before. It was wonderful, and it is testament to Ryan and Louise that they raised a very level headed daughter. We covered all kinds of subjects, fuelled by a slice of Victoria sandwich, yum!

Once they left, it was feeding time at the zoo.

The rest of the evening was calm, with only the occasional barking outburst, that serves as a deterrent for falling asleep.

15th March 2025

I’m starting a few days of dog sitting for Ryan and Louise whilst they are in Barcelona.

However the main portion of the day was making a small repair to my flat roof. I went to Wickes to buy materials, avoiding the food truck.

Once I had completed that task I spent time in my neighbours garden tackling the brambles. As I hacked my way deeper into the heart of the beast, I expected to find some lost civilisation, it was that dense.  I carried my Sainsbury’s shopping bag with me, clipping the brambles into short lengths. It was very calming, taking each shoot and cutting it from the body inching my way along. There was a thrill as I turned ninety degrees and started clipping my way out.

There must have been an effort to clear the bushes  before, because there were dead branches all around, the needles as deadly as the live ones, thank god for thick leather gloves.

Then it was time to see the dogs.

They know the sound of the truck even before I get out and walk to the front door. I can hear, and see Bobby jumping up and down in the glass. Getting in through the door is a challenge, I have to open it just wide enough for me to squeeze through, but not let the boys out. 

Once the cacophony of barking has died down, they wait in turn to be made a fuss of, then there is peace.

When dinner time comes around the madness starts again.

I have a quiet evening, Dexter lays on the floor, but is forever changing position, you never know where he will be. Bobby, on the other hand sits on the sofa next to me.

Periodically I have to let them out into the back garden, Dexter then barks at the moon like a werewolf until he’s horse, and Bobby turns straight around and wants to be let back in. 

It is bedlam, but they are fun animals, and I talk to them as if they understand, now, either they think I’m crazy, or I really am, it makes for an easy time.

14th March 2025

It was my pilgrimage to see my friend Martin down in Whitney on Wye.

It was an emotional reunion, on my various visits I never know how he will be. I was happy to see him on his feet, high as a kite with his medical “weed”.

His long running battle with the NHS who he believes have “blackballed” him. He struggles to get the treatment he needs, and is in constant pain.

In between cups of coffee, and his two Newfoundlands showering me in slobber, we talked and talked and talked. No subject is ever off the table. There is constant laughter, this seems to be the best way to avoid the concerns of his condition. I am not very good at showing that outwardly. I don’t know how I will face the inevitable, one part will feel happy for him, for at last there will be no more pain, but the other part would mourn the loss of a true friend. In some ways he was the brother I never had.

We spent time listening to music, so loud it made the hairs in my nose vibrate. It reminded me that I don’t listen to music that way anymore, but prompted me to do it again.

As I left, the sky on the horizon was orange, the dappled clouds looking ominous.

I hugged my friend, and Liz, his wife, for a few hours we had forgotten the drudge of our normal  routine for one full day, each time I drive away there is the thought that it might be the last, but knowing Martin, he will deny the grim reaper his soul, and probably they will both have a good laugh over it.

13th March 2025

Smoke hung in the valley like a white angel’s cloak, but it wasn’t a supernatural phenomenon, it was from my incinerator.

I had gone next door to tackle the uncontrolled brambles that have taken over the neighbours garden, and spilled over into mine.

I had filled a carrier bag with small pieces of brambles, a very small attempt at a very big problem.

I prepared the incinerator with combustible materials, making sure it was burning well before I added the bramble cuttings.

The moment I did, the smoke cloud engulfed me and everything around.

Soon the houses around, disappeared from view, it looked like a scene from a vampire movie, it just needed a heavy metal soundtrack to make it perfect.

I kept an eye out just in case it got out of control, no, I didn’t burn the fence down.

This was a fitting end to an interesting day.

I met up with Nicola, Colin and my other sister, Heidi, at the Sally Lunn cafe. It had been a long time since I had been there, I think Sally must have been still at school at the time.

I had forgotten what a Sally Lunn was, so the item that was presented to me on a plate was a pleasant surprise.

I had chosen black currant jam for my topping, and was intrigued at two Asian girls who had ordered two full English breakfasts as their topping, plus one plain version.

Obviously they didn’t know what they had ordered, the size, or consistency. When it was served, they giggled, maybe at the realisation.

“That will be a challenge” I whispered, Colin looked round, I could see he would willingly offer to help them.

They struggled through, taking a break before attempting the heavy laden full English.

They were still eating when we left, I nearly offered congratulations, but thought better of it.

12th March 2025 

The temptation was too great, I had to have a bacon roll. I sat in the beast, gnawing at my prize. I ate it slowly, I didn’t want to suffer indigestion. It tasted divine, all the evil was exciting my taste buds, I was happy in that I hadn’t indulged on every visit, this was a treat, but also I had run out of food in the fridge, and I was hungry.

I picked out a solitary strip of feather board and carried it to the checkout. I made sure to tell the cashier that I was one piece short, not that she could have cared less, but I needed to hide my embarrassment of purchasing something that cost a couple of quid.

I rushed home with my tummy fully laden, I had to prepare for my next event of the day.

I was due to meet Bob Wood, one of my many bosses at Herman Miller, for lunch at the Hop Pole in Limply Stoke. At the last moment he called to change the venue, we agreed on the Tollgate Inn at Holt.

I arrived ten minutes early, he was already there trying to call me.

It was good to see him again, he did look good for his age.

There was a different feeling, over the years he had thrown me under the bus so many times I should have had a season ticket, this time, we were both pensioners so the greetings were warm and sincere.

In his professional role he could be intimidating, filling me with dread, but not this time, the playing field was level.

I gave him a shortened version of my life so far, and the things I do in America.

Two hours flew by, I didn’t say half the things I wanted to say, but that would have to wait till another time.

I meant to ask him if he missed the cut and thrust of the furniture business, but with his passion for gardening, and his two major holidays, I guess he didn’t have time.

Once I was back, I was able to complete the cladding, another job off the list.

I spent a bit of time cutting out the brambles that had spread into my garden from next door.

That is something I have to deal with.

11th March 2025

I had set my goal for completing the house facing side of the shed. 

I need extra pieces of cladding, so back to Wickes.

I again didn’t succumb to the aromatic smell of the breakfast rolls, there were the usual collection of tradesmen standing in line to purchase their food and beverages.

I had calculated the amount of material I would need, and grabbing a trolley made my way to the outside area where the feather board was stored.

Normally these are stocked in bundles of ten, but I didn’t need those, so I was hoping of a split pack, luckily there was. 

I have been caught out many times trying to remove the plastic bands holding the bundles together, I’ve tried using car keys to cut them to no avail.

I counted out the number of strips that I had calculated,  and made my way to the checkout.

It didn’t take long to do the easy bit, the top section with the angled roof was a little more difficult, and involved a lot of hand sawing.

As I was reaching the last portion I realised that I was short by one strip.

Bloody typical, the last piece I thought would work was short by a couple of inches, but the thought of driving back was not one I was prepared to do, I will leave it till tomorrow.

10th March 2025

Charles Fox was waiting outside Nero’s cafe opposite the Guildhall. I knew it was him, he hadn’t changed much since I last saw him in 2002.

He left Herman Miller to join the MoD at Abbey Wood.

We had a lot to talk about, well, HE had a lot to talk about. It was difficult to get a word in edgewise.

With all his Navy exploits, it’s a wonder that Britain had any ships left. I’m sure he probably managed to find a scrap dealer who could take a frigate or two.

It was said that any unwanted equipment or materials would mysteriously find its way to a local scrapyard.

Every now and then he interrupted himself with riotous laughter, sometimes difficult for me to hear what he was talking about.

But his actions didn’t get anyone killed, to his knowledge, but I did wonder what the technical competence of his bosses were.  I know what Charles was like, I certainly wouldn’t go into a dangerous area with him.