The sun won't come out tomorrow

Something really strange happened today and it's thrown all of us into a state of confusion.

The sun came out.

This is not a holiday experience we can recall and we're not really sure what to do next.  

As luck would have it, we did pack shorts but only because we've heard of other families having gone on holiday and the sun's come out.  We're grateful to them for encouraging us to pack for all weathers.   

It rained pretty much all day yesterday, as it did on Monday.  It is due to rain again tomorrow too.

However, today has been, well, nice.

Yesterday Jamie took us on a big walk.  

(He also bought a new snazzy hat.

And Charlotte bought an equally swish Dick Turpin mask).

Jamie took us on another walk today.  But walks are very much his thing rather than hers and younger sister protests have resulted. 

For example, she refused to look over this big stone wall to admire the view.

She also refused to climb this hill, unlike Vanessa and Jamie (who you can just about see).

Here's a kind of close-up.

We're planning to get our bikes out tomorrow, which Charlotte (who I fear may actually be allergic to forward motion) is also dreading.

But, for now, it's chillax time.  And we're all good with that.

Putting the wind into Windermere

The Whites are back on tour, this time in the Lake District where it rained all day yesterday apart from a brief intermission to allow this picture to be taken.

(We were supposed to be in Greece but that was cancelled after the island we were going to ran out of Corona. Or something like that).

Our trip here started off with a bang.

I attached the bike carrier thingy on to the car the wrong way. The result was that it bounced off the road a couple of miles after departure, forcing us to return home to stick one set of brake lights and the registration plate back on with white gaffer tape. Here you can see Vanessa reassuring the kids that our luck was sure to improve.

Sadly mine didn’t. I watched the first half of Coleraine’s Irish Cup Semi-Final on my phone on the journey across. The Bannsiders were leading 1-0 until the 97th minute. They eventually lost to bitter local rivals Ballymena Utd on penalties. Gutted.

Whilst I sobbed uncontrollably, Jamie took himself off for an introductory tour of the holiday park where we’re staying for the next week. His main aim was to make a guest appearance on the CCTV feed which is piped into everyone’s lodge. He succeeded - see below.

We ended the evening by introducing the kids to the joys of Gavin & Stacey. Other than the incident with the bog brush and one filthy comment from Doris, the first episode wasn’t too racy and we might let them see a few more.

As for today, we’re planning a walk into Windermere where showers and high winds are expected.

Further updates to follow.

Ghost train

Before today, I hadn't travelled into Leeds city centre for more than four months.  The purpose of this morning's journey was a trip to the dentist after a crown became loose a few weeks ago.  I was surprised when  she agreed to see me. 

I donned a mask for the first time and boarded a train with barely anyone on it.   That was eerie, as was Leeds station itself was which also deserted.  With the odd exception of several members of train staff, everyone else had their faces covered as I trudged through.

When I reached the dentist's door, I had to wait outside for a few minutes until a lady with face shield, apron and gloves greeted me cheerily and asked me to cleanse my hands with sanitiser before coming inside.  

Next, she asked if she could take my temperature.

I said yes and opened my mouth nice and wide.

She laughed and pointed a gun at my head and pulled the trigger.

Five seconds later: "You're fine."

I wasn't, I felt like a right idiot.  I'd not had my temperature taken that way before.  I reckon I would have blushed less if she'd shoved a thermometer up my bum.  

And then I was invited to go upstairs to be welcomed by my dentist and her nurse, both in full PPE.

They did a great job, despite not being able to use a drill or that squirty water thingy.  My dentist explained that they can use those tools in afternoon appointments when they have to wear even more protective gear.   A bit like those scientists in ET.  Possibly. Those appointments are scheduled for an hour to allow time for a deep clean afterwards.  Mine was in the diary for 30 minutes, despite only being in the chair for five of those. 

My dentist added that my six-month check-up, which was due this month, will now take place at some point next year - in theory. 

And then I left, walked back through the quiet streets of Leeds, into the station, mask on and back onto another empty train to Guiseley.

I am actually due back in the city centre in a couple of weeks for a meeting, possibly followed by some socialising.  I'm not really sure how I feel about that. 

It's not a fear of contracting coronavirus that puts me off, it's the "new normal" factor; even more irritating than the X Factor and set to last a heck of a lot longer than a run of Simon Cowell and co.      

Flip and dale

With wind and rain forecast and campsites reopened, the time was right for us Whites to get soaked and cold inside and outside a tent.  

We chose the little village of Muker in the heart of the dales.

That was on Friday but, for the next two days, the weather actually picked up and the beauty of North Yorkshire was revealed.  

We met some of the locals.

And even had our first lockdown pint. 

Thankfully it was. 

Back at the campsite, Jamie saw an opportunity to earn a Scout badge for being helpful. 

He grabbed it with both marigolds.

We're due to spend next week in the Lake District where steady rain is predicted by the weather folk.

This has not come as a surprise. 

Half-cut

Jamie and I had our long-awaited post-lockdown haircuts today and, in my case, it did not go as planned.   

The barber cut the sides but, for some reason, seemed to forget to cut the top - and I forgot to notice.

The result was that I came home looking not unlike Michael Portillo.

Worse still, Charlotte took one glance and announced that I resemble a hammerhead shark.

A bit harsh, surely.

This was us yesterday when we put gel in our hair and combed it back for a laugh. 

But I'm not sure I look that different (other than the hangover face I was wearing after a well-hydrated weekend).

In need of some form of comfort,  I'm reminded of that well-worn quip: 

Q. "What's the difference between a good haircut and a bad haircut?"

A, "About a fortnight."

So I'll go back soon.      

I hope you have better luck when it's your turn to face a scissoring.