Action Barry

Well, it's all got a bit crap again, hasn't it?

As Leeds folk will be all too aware, the city has become one of the latest parts of the country to have new movement restrictions placed on its residents.

We can't have friends or family over, not even into our gardens, and the rule could be in place for many months to come.  

Leeds City Council have also gone a step further than Bozo Johnson by advising locals not to go to pubs and restaurants.  It's not backed up by any kind of legal enforcement, it's the Council trying to take a lead and people can make their own minds up.  Fair enough.

In the meantime, we've got to try to keep ourselves busy.  My two pieces of physical activity today have been to go to the supermarket.  And then go back to the supermarket.

This was not the plan.   This morning's visit was to get what we need for tonight's tea.  Exciting stuff indeed.

The second trip was to get what we need for tomorrow night's tea (Charlotte and I are cooking a two-courser). But I didn't really need to do that today.

In truth, the only reason I went was to avoid reseeding the lawn. 

I bought the soil and seeds the weekend before the last lockdown, almost precisely six months ago. And since then I haven't been arsed to do the job.

But I'm determined to enter the next phase of nothingness not doing nothing.  

Nope, its Action Barry from now on.

Starting tomorrow.  Or maybe Monday.    

By the way, I saw this sign outside Morrisons. 

Really?!

Belfast gorilla

As is my habit on a Sunday morning (I'm a dull and predictable animal), this morning I listened to a recording of yesterday's Pick of the Pops on Radio 2.

It was special episode with not two but three charts from this week in years gone by.   (Exciting, I know).

It began with 1978 (when Grease was the word), 1987 (when the streets had no name according to Bono and the boys) and 1998 (when the Corrs wanted to know what I could do to make me love them but needn't have worried).

This was all good until Vanessa pointed out that, despite feeling like yesterday, 1998 was 22 whole years ago.  And then I did some maths.  I'm currently 48 years old.  If you had 22 to that, I'll be 70. What a heartwarming thought that was on a hungover Sunday morning.        

More merrily, the kids returned to school this week which was a positive development for all involved.

Let's hope they get to keep going for a few more weeks at least.

Meanwhile, the increased coronavirus restrictions have not helped people's moods over the past few days, necessary though they appear to be.  And it means we've never been in more need of a laugh.

So thank you to my tiny friend Jason Kyle for sending me this short video which has made me chortle ever since.

 

Flying the flag for Northumberland

It's the night before the big return to school, for Charlotte at least.  Jamie goes back for a bit on Wednesday in advance of his first full day on Thursday.  

Charlotte is still mildly hesitant about the prospect, but will hopefully settle in well.  Meanwhile, her big brother got up early this morning for a "practice walk" before returning to try on his uniform for the first time in more than five months. 

Leeds schools are amongst the last in the country to go back, which has only served to increase anticipation levels.

But, with time to spare last week whilst other kids crept back into their classrooms, we headed to Northumberland.  Thankfully our tent stayed locked in the shed with a nice caravan our living receptacle of choice.

I do love Northumberland.  My three years as a student in Newcastle in the early 1990s left me with a huge love and admiration for the people of the North-East.   I was also fortunate to be chosen to represent Northumberland in the 1990 rugby union county championship, pulling on the famous green, red and yellow jersey five times.  That gave me the chance to meet fellow teammates from other parts of the county and to visit different places for training and games. 

The Yorkshire Dales are fab, as is the Lake District which we visited last month.  But most tourists are well aware of them. 

In contrast, I regard Northumberland as a well-kept secret. It obviously varies from place to place but, in general, Northumberland is not as crowded as some destinations a little further south and therefore feels a little more relaxed.  

The natives also have a wonderfully laid back but self-assured attitude to life and, of course, there is no shortage of wondrous sights.

We stayed in Cresswell with its golden sands...

...breaking waves...

...and spectacular sunsets.

We visited Warkworth Castle...

...and Newbiggin-by-the-Sea.

We conquered the stepping stones at Druridge Country Park...

...went to Alnmouth to celebrate National Fish and Chip Day...

...and popped into Ashington because I've never met anyone from that famous town who doesn't have an interesting story to tell.

Us being the Whites, we obviously didn't completely miss the rain which fell hardest in Amble. 

We hoped to go on a Puffin Cruise...

...but Dave was forced to disappoint.

To stay dry, the kids bought some snazzy clothes from Amble's array of charity shops.

Jamie looked the part.

And Charlotte did too.  It was only later that Vanessa mentioned her "crop top and hairband set" was actually a toddler's dress and belt. 

And with that, summer 2020 was officially done.

Good luck to all kids, mums, dads and teachers for the big return tomorrow.