Sitting watching Sherlock, a modern take on Arthur Conan Doyle's sleuth made me realise I had opened a blog and not written a word. As it was the first day of the year I decided that perhaps it was time to actually sit and write 'Something.'
My name is Mike, fifty and struggling to act my age. I have three grown up (I use the term loosely) kids, two girls and a boy. The girls I'll call Natsa and Charlie, whilst my son will be eternally Chutchie. Natsa is twenty two, Charlie twenty and Chutchie is nineteen. Charlie took the plunge along with her boyfriend and left home to go and live in Winersh near Reading. Natsa and Chutchie are still here to give me and my wife, Deb a very interesting and varied life as all our offspring have inherited our strange sense of humour. But I shall talk more of them later as the year progresses.
What I do need to mention is that last year was not my best year as my Mother, who I will try to describe at a later date, died of a very aggressive form of cancer two months ago, leaving my poor father to fend for himself whilst suffering from vascular dementia. But I will remember last year not only as the year my Mother died, but also the year which ended quite spectacularly. I work as a Security Officer at Newcastle University, where the campus stands on the outskirts of the city centre and across the road from the Civic Centre, the large and imposing council offices topped with a modern, German style glockenspiel from which copper clad seahorses look down on the surrounding city. It was at this junction between university and Civic Centre, where last night, the city's end of year firework display took place. It was actually very spectacular considering the council hasn't got the money to empty bins or employ care workers. Watching the sparks bouncing off the roof of the building was a little worrying as I quite expected the building to burst into flames at any moment. But alas, it didn't.
My last journey home of the year wasn't quite so uneventful though. At this point I ought to inform you, the reader, that my commute to work and back is 36 miles of usually good, uninterrupted dual carriageway. However after 32 of those miles, my poor old Citroen, which had very rarely let me down, started to slow from its 70 (ish) cruising speed. It was only then I realised the car I had just overtaken in the darkness was starting to disappear. What I didn't realise, was it that it was disappearing into a cloud of smoke belching from my car. I managed to get as far as the Alnwick turning and I left the A1 and cruised into the town. After finding a well lit built up area, I pulled up at the roadside. It was only when I got out did I realise the car was full of smoke inside the cabin. A young family were passing by on the footpath where I looked up at them and said, "Well I think that's dead." How they laughed as I opened the passenger side door to see the smoke billowing out into the night air. I didn't laugh when it dawned upon me how I could have died from carbon monoxide poisoning. I wished the car a happy new year, knowing that within the next week or so, it would be recycled.
01 Jan 12
Shopping for a new car.
Happy New Year everyone!
