Awful news

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There was going to be a post about politics here, but i’ll do that another day. That’s not the awful news. In fact, you might think that not having to endure a post about politics here might actually be good news.

Sadly, the awful news is that there is awful news displacing that post about politics.

Fireman’s Arms burned down last night.

Usually, I’d find some sort of humour in the irony of the situation, but I’m just sad. Fireman’s is a great pub. Friendly people, amazing vibe, decent beer. And then last night at around 3am, this happened:

The good news is that it appears that while the beer garden may be no more, the rest of the building looks ok – given the situation. And apparently the pub cat survived unscathed. Thanks be to Bastet.

Conspiracy theories about insurance claims were quick to surface, but why, when the pub is going from strength the strength and business is booming? And if it was (which it wasn’t), why do it just before your busiest time of year? (Although that’s obviously exactly what they’d want you to think). And then there was this from yesterday afternoon:

…which may will point to as a likely cause of the blaze. (Although that’s obviously exactly what they’d want you to think).

I’m just sad. I hope that Kevin and Dean can get things sorted and get open again as soon as possible. I know that the regulars will do everything they can to make it work again.

 

UPDATE: Great News!

“Like”

Rugby Crossword

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In twisted celebration of the recent World Cup win, resident crosswordist SwordDevlin has come up with a rugby-themed crossword.

I don’t really understand rugby or crosswords, so this one clearly isn’t for me, but you can have some celebratory fun with it.

[crossword]

 

My favourite clues this month are the ones that don’t remind me of the score in the final. There aren’t many.

Hands in the ruck, Green 6.

Backing up

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I’m still not quite sure what happened to my back. I know what’s wrong with it and I know what I did that day, but I can’t quite put my finger on any given incident that caused it. It’s sore. I’m pissed off and tired. I can still do most things, but it just takes three times as long and leaves me exhausted by mid-afternoon. That said, I’m not able to do everything: I had plans to dump a quarter of a ton of topsoil on the lawn this week, but I’ve decided to give that a miss. I didn’t play football this evening.

My L5/S1 disc is prolapsed, but it’s not a bad one – just a really annoying one. This will be the billionth time it’s happened since I first damaged it when I was 16. I’ve got some wonderful MRI images from over the years.

I once used a physio who told me that it was me that knew best how to deal with my crappy back, and he was right. I’ve tried most things over the years to make it feel better. The best remedy I ever had was pethidine, but sadly, that’s not readily available right now, so I’m using my fallback (no pun intended) methods of gentle mobilisation, lying flat whenever possible, and heat. Nowhere near as much fun.

Recovery is happening, but at a very slow pace. But then, as I said earlier, everything is happening at a very slow pace right now.

Grr.

Back and foot

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It’s like foot and mouth, except more less serious.

Meh. I’ve hurt my back shifting furniture around. I’ve always had back problems, but I thought they were behind me (no pun intended), because I’ve been working really hard on my core muscles and I feel fitter and more protected than ever.

Not so, it seems.

Add to that the f****** bee sting from the weekend, which has now swelled up like a swollen thing on my foot. Itchy, hot. Irritating.

Have some Iggy Pop. His recent Maida Vale BBC Radio 6 Music session.

I love this, and I am dying to find it on Spotify.
Also, I hope I am still rocking at 72 years old.
Just being able to walk again in 72 hours would be a start.

And: Leron Thomas on trumpet. Beautifully understated, but hugely important.

Tramadol? I’m tempted…

Dispatches from (Uns)Table View

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I’ve headed North North East for today’s blog post, to the suburb of (Uns) Table View. The suburb looks across Table Bay and over towards Table Mountain, hence the name Table View. Everyone I’ve every met who lives here has been a little bit nuts, hence I added the (Uns).

Despite the wonderful view, it’s not generally somewhere I would normally come, but the boy has extra Dodgeball training ahead of next week’s African Cup.

So I’m indoors in a sports hall. The view’s not great, but there is security so the local residents are kept safely beyond the complex walls.

Later this afternoon – three hours later [wailing face emoji] – I’ll be heading home back to just 6000 miles from civilisation.

And then this evening? I dunno. Might stay up too late watching footy. Maybe a brandy. Maybe two.