Last Saturday and the scorching heat seems but a distant memory proving once again how fickle the English weather can be. Undaunted by the ominous grey clouds and overcoat weather we took a drive over to RAF Cosford to visit the museum. Now I have achieved an age where being a sad git doesn’t have an effect on me so I was actually excited at going there. I was a member of the air cadets as a child and I spent a lot of my free time as did many boys my age reading commando books and building airfix models. A lasting memory of my childhood was pure envy of Mark Watts’ perfect 1/24 Messerschmitt Bf109E, he had spent millions of hours building it proving to me that he was a bit anal (although we used to call it strange) and he was on the wrong side as any twelve year old worth his salt would have built the Supermarine Spitfire. My relationship with Mark dwindled after that, particularly when he got an air rifle and became even more strange. Although thirty five years have passed I still expect to see the Aryan features of Mark Watts appear on news bulletins with the epitaph “before turning the gun on himself”. 

RAF Cosford is my kind of museum, the only omissions are a Lister diesel engine and  a collection of pre-war lathes. The exhibits were very personal to me, visions from my childhood and reminders of the nuclear cloud we lived under. I was born the week the Bay of Pigs kicked off and to this day I was unaware that in my first week of life, all life could have been ended. Growing up in the Cold War made the “Four Minute Warning” a regular conversation piece and I often imagined sitting on the beach with my Mum as the world turned white. The positive legacy of the threat of war was the numerous varieties of warplanes and that I accepted matter of factly that flew overhead. With a relatively close proximity to the Peak District and Lincolnshire I often spotted the strange silhouettes of exotic machines of death and joining the Air Cadets was a natural thing to do. I loved my time in the Cadets and for the life of me I cannot understand why I didn’t choose a life working on aeroplanes, it was pretty much all I wanted to do. In my first week of owning a motorbike I rode over to RAF Binbrook to watch the Lightnings take off. Thinking back I remember feeling the total freedom of being 17 and having my own bike. I also remember riding back from Market Rasen side saddle for a laugh although Shaun Allen went one better and stood on the seat of his RS125, radical or what, until we got stopped. 

I appear to have digressed somewhat. The museum is worth a day out in anyone’s book. A wealth of exhibits and a wealth of information. The history of aviation and a marvellous account of the Cold War. To stand underneath the bomb doors of a Vulcan, the iconic sight of a Lightning in full climb and to marvel at the 1:1 airfix Spitfire built by James May, stick that in you pipe Mark Watts. With three halls, or rather hangers full of interesting stuff and with only a long lens for my camera, I was itching to take some shots so I know a repeat visit has to be on the cards.

Everything about the day was simply perfect and sort of retro, memories of picnics in cars because it was too uncomfortably unseasonal to sit outside. I had an unusual childhood but the family picnics under grey skies were one of the highlights and for a day I was 13 again.

After all the excitement of the last few days I didn’t expect to do anything earth shattering and as such my day lived up to expectations. We were expecting Connor, Tracy and Kayleigh to come over in the late afternoon and I had promised to cook tea, so in a way everything was geared up to that event. The morning started with the telephone ballot to get an appointment at the Doctors. It is a fun game, wait until 8am on the dot an dial the number and then keep pressing redial until you get put on hold. Getting put on hold is like getting through the elimination round on Pointless except the recorded message is a little less scripted but more amusing than the witty banter on the BBC popular quiz show. Finally I was through to the final, unfortunately I lost the 9am slot on a tie breaker but was reinstated on a technicality. 

Yet another appointment at the Doctors, I swear that the staff think I work there however this time it was as a result of an inflamed growth with a bulbous blood gourged head in my armpit. He was later declared a “mouse’s penis”. I took Mickey to meet Dr Bal who was wonderful and very female. Fortunately Mickey didn’t rise to the occasion, probably as a result of Dr Bal stating that he would probably drop off and if he didn’t she would organise a garotting for him. Based on a very uncertain future and the inordinate amount of pain Mickey was causing I ended our relationship with a good tug. 

I spent a while in the workshop, where I hoped to get some work done on the Saw fence. I had to construct the fence guides which proved way to heavy for me to hold. I spent a lot of time just trying to work out how to clamp the material to work on it, the piece later stalled due to the absence of a 19mm hole saw from my collection, so I resorted to fixing a sun lounger that had been destroyed by Baris last week. As time was getting on I grabbed a shower and got on with making Lasagne for our guests. Unfortunately I think I have totally overdone it today and feel very grim as a result, had it not been for a great programme on The Adverts ( new wave/punk beat combo) I would have buggered off to bed with only half a blog tonight as my arm feels worse than it has for ages. Hopefully a good night will help.

Oh my I thought I had it bad. Poor Runty the Nuthatch chick fought so bravely to remain on this mortal coil only to have the life squashed out of him. I know nature doesn’t always follow the script and only the fittest survive but come on, that was Runty media superstar. To make things worse, the Kingfisher chicks starving to death on nest cam. Then discover that Springwatch isn’t back on TV until next week all very upsetting. I hope to get a lift of spirit by ranting at Question Time in a few minutes from now.

I got very little sleep last night due to the things bouncing about in my head. The events from yesterday had a profound effect and I am very uncertain about almost everything. This confusion has affected me throughout the day, culminating in going to a hole in the wall to draw out my last £30 , removing my card and then walking away without the cash. To compound this, when I reported it to my bank I told them the wrong location for my error. Fortunately Linda was on hand to tie my shoelaces and put my bump cap on.

With the forecast not looking too good on the weather front and having spent a week trying to get the workshop dried out I was up early to get things moved about so that I could plug the holes with that expanding foam in a can stuff. To facilitate this I had to make some wall brackets to move my wood stock out the way, or rather, off the floor. The brackets were easily made but attaching them to the wall was not so easy as I just couldn’t get my right arm to do as I wanted. In the end I struggled but got them up. With this done I had my next problem as I wasn’t able to put the lengths of wood up on the brackets without taking the lights out as a parallel lift was required. I got round this by carrying the wood up the step ladders one handed until above the brackets and dropping it on from a height. I actually gained a lot of satisfaction from figuring it out. Then I got on to the main event, the squirty foam stuff. Oh what a bag of fun that was, attempting to work a can upside down into a gap I couldn’t see with no means of supporting my bodyweight. I did consider lying on my ample belly with my chin on the floor but this was one degradation too far so resorted to listening to the sound of the foam as a guide to how it was progressing. I even turned Kerrang down to make a good job of it. The downside was,  as the deluge started it became apparent that there is a leak from the other wall and this one has a stack of plywood tools and benches to move. I will get the place watertight, eventually.

I recently bought a very cheap (read old) table saw. It came without any safety guards of a saw fence but it was cheap and that counts. So after plugging the leak I started making the parts for the sawfence and as a modern male I went to the clamping cam, I mean who wouldn’t. This involved complex procedures such as welding, gluing and turning. I rather cleverly decided to use some of those little powerful neodymium magnets to hold the piece down so I could do it one handed. Now I have never shown any aptitude towards science but it appears welding near these magnets robs them of their magnetic powers, which in turn means the workpiece buggers off around the welding table, which is an arse. I haven’t tried woodturning before and I suppose bunging a handle in a pillar drill and shaping it with abrasive paper isn’t really woodturning but it was fun and in the end it came out ok

Tomorrow Connor is coming over for a few days. I have told him to bring his overalls as there is work to be done. i wonder how good he is at welding?

I see to be making a habit of shedding tears in front a a Police Officer of late. This time the reason came out of the blue  (no pun intended). We were visited by a Sergeant Wright who is part of the Continuous Improvement Team reviewing  West Midlands Police Road Traffic Collision Policy. He requested to see us because part of the remit of this group is to take a close look at how the Police assess and manage those first calls for help and up to the conclusion of the case including how collisions are investigated and communicated. As we had issues with pretty much every part of that process I suppose we were an ideal case study. Throughout my career, if you can call scraping by from month to month and not getting sacked, a career, one thing I have always enjoyed has been the debate about policy, whether it be Driver’s Restructuring, staffing levels, resource management or attending an accident. It fluffs my ego when someone asks my opinion in an other than forced situation. In days gone by and maybe three breakdowns ago this was what I wanted to do and then the realisation of how destructive this process can be struck home and I threw up the barricades and said that I no longer wanted to be part of any debate, I would just accept the findings and deal with them on a personal basis. This is how I have lived the last fifteen years.

Sergeant Wright, struck a personal chord with me. In many ways, it appears we have had similar experiences. He was remarkably candid and he managed by accident to hit upon exactly what was happening in my head. As he spoke about personal experience, he talked of emotions that I have shut away, festering inside me, the emotions and feelings that I wouldn’t admit to. I listened to his story and it was my story, the feeling I couldn’t put a finger on, pointed out for me. The next thing I was back on New Town Row, laid on the road wondering why I had been forced to endure living when by rights all my pain could have been ended legitimately by a careless driver. Even reading this back it sounds shit, immoral and self serving but that was the truth. There are thousands of reasons for not taking your own life that are perfectly avoided by someone else doing it for you.

So what do I do with this information? It is no longer locked away. It isn’t something that will fit back in the cupboard of my mind as the ironing board has dropped down blocking the hole off. I don’t know, I really don’t. Is this the admission that I am actually worse than I thought? If it is there are no answers jumping up and saying “pick me”. If this is the problem, then I can no longer blame the sacrificial issue I have been blaming. Then  what do I blame? 

Now that was a completely unexpected revelation. I expected to write about the meeting and how positive it was and how it put a lot of answers to questions I had. I understand Policy, I work with Policy, I have actually contributed to a few. I can easily divorce myself from personal experience and deal with the bigger issue. This ability, if that is what it is, have been a constant source of frustration for three decades. The parochial claptrap of We are against this motion because “I” had this experience has been a bug bear. I was elected on a number of occasions to serve as the democratic voice of a community. Often the community’s view differed from mine but under democracy the majority is heard and rightly so. So the opportunity to look at the lessons our experience provide but distanced from that experience was very therapeutic. 

Right back onto the original topic. It was enlightening to get a chance to understand how the law and how the policies dictate the response made. Whilst it is without doubt the Policy, misnamed Policy A1, is in need of revue and that there are recommendations already in place to deal with this, the biggest issue in our experience is that communication was the major contributory factor. As we listened to Sergeant Wright on the matter I realised what a poisoned chalice he had inherited. The policy is poor by today’s expectations but no matter how brilliant policy is, without equally brilliant communications it will be doomed to failure. My experience of control room situations and how we deal with incidents on the railway indicates that Network Rail has a better grip on incident management than the Police and this is a matter that the Continuous Improvement Team have to tackle. At Network Rail we have to be excellent at what we do but as a citizen I expect the Police to be better. We discussed expectations, what we would have expected prior to the accident and how our opinions changed after the accident. How the Policy served and how it failed. How the balance of expectation, legal requirements and resources were handled. A particularly interesting subject was why we expected the Police to attend and the juxtaposition of the legal reasons for attendance. I feel that the meeting was extremely helpful on a number of levels. It brought a new dimension into the equation aside from the purely physical ones that as laymen of the Parish we wouldn’t have considered and this experience appeared to be a two way street.  In the end If our experience helps this improvement then my loss can be everyone’s gain. 

And on that note and with midnight chiming I am off.

Experts say that you can judge a persons character within seconds of meeting them. Others that first impressions last. Either way since the dawn of time all animal life needs to make a split second judgement of whether the thing approaching is going to eat you or you eat it. Following on from this, we also develop a way of preventing unpleasant situations from occurring again. You may touch an electric fence, pick up a nettle or piss a wasp off but after the first occasion you will avoid a repeat. This keenly honed ability to assess a situation or a person was demonstrated today at Sandwell District Hospital. Firstly, a consultant who had met Linda on a single occasion ten weeks ago recalled that she was impatient and wanted answers… now. It did make me chuckle however when approaching the appointments desk one of the ladies remarked that she remembered Linda from her last visit. Considering it was six weeks ago and in that time she must have dealt with thousands of faces at her counter, to leave such a lasting impression is a testament to Linda’s unique character .

The forty five minutes wait to see the consultant confirmed that the recovery process is continuing well. I have gained a further 10 degrees of movement. I gave praise to my physiotherapist, as praise is very much deserved. I did inform the Consultant that I had gone private to get the treatment, his efforts and my arm deserved as the NHS was very lacking. He suggested I should complain as it is the only way to get things changed, Linda and I both exchanged glances with confused Mr Malik so we explained that we are still waiting for our current complaint to be processed nearly three months after it was raised, so the likelihood of complaining doing anything was doubtful and to be honest I am fed up of complaining about everything just to get the service I should receive.

I had my weekly appointment with Nathalie, my physio this morning and she gave my arm a proper going over and it has been very uncomfortable ever since. I guess a night’s sleep will sort it out. I hope so because I want to make a table saw fence tomorrow, although there is plenty of pottering to be done and I also have to conduct an investigation in CSI Aldridge style. I was refurbishing a orbital sander this morning and all was going well until I let a bearing hit the deck and disappear. This was without doubt a bit narking and with the coffers nearing empty I really don’t need to spend any more money this month.

On the subject of dosh, we got an email form the Solicitors this evening and it appears we are about to take Swift Insure to court to get an interim payment and to have the case handled by Solicitors rather than Swiftcover themselves. I can’t help thinking they are spending more money avoiding paying than they would pay by doing the decent thing.

I will never understand how these things work.

Somewhere in Ivory Towers Birmingham 1 my absence from work flagged up a “take Action notice. I have finally received a call from work on an official basis. After three months an offer of “Can we do something?” finally arrived. Now I am a little upset that the “Get Well Soon” card didn’t get here before it but any attention is good attention, that is the saying isn’t it?  Obviously the time we needed help has long since passed and we have dropped into a routine that serves our circumstances well. What can work do now? I have waited three months for the request and I didn’t have an answer prepared. That was a bit of an oversight on my behalf. I should have had my rider already constructed in readiness, M&M’s without the green ones. A copy of the Guardian freshly ironed maybe? Cucumber Sandwiches and Pimms. They are all flooding in now but the moment is lost. 

I got signed off work for another month today and without doubt I am not physically fit for work, at some point a line will be drawn under the recovery process and that is what I will be left with. At the moment I cannot see a future without pain and everything I do has a price to pay. I would go stir crazy without getting out or spending a bit of time down my half finished shed but all that is done  in the knowledge that when enough is enough I can put my feet up, fluff up the cushion my arm lies on and say “That’s me done for the day” At work someone may well have an objection to that statement.

It was my Dad’s birthday today, 75 years on this planet and he marked it by leaving our his hearing aids when I phoned him to celebrate his landmark birthday. So rather than entering into a conversation I just repeated the most simple of statements at ever increasing volumes until a suitable amount of time had been spent on the phone. As driving over to him is out of my ability at the moment I suppose it is the best I can do. Oh well, there is always Christmas.

I spent a very enjoyable time in the shed today finishing off the workmate like workbenches which have turned out pretty well in my opinion. The addition of extra clamps and in particular a speed clamp have been  wonderful revelation, allowing me to quickly get material held down, allowing me to be one handed. I did have a problem with my pillar drill as it is operated right handed. I may take a look to see if it can be converted to being left handed as my arm won’t work in the direction required which left me operating left handed whilst craning my neck to see what was occurring. In the end I used the depth gauge and guesswork to complete the task whist bracing the work-piece against my ample belly for rotational restraint whilst pushing down with my right arm to secure it. Not pretty but it worked. I need to design a jig to hold work-pieces more securely and more safely. I have an idea using a cam clamp design, which I will work on this week. It will be awesome and even make me a few bob selling it to one armed woodworkers. I can see me now on Dragon’s Den” clamping my bits, one handed in front of Deborah Meaden.

Tomorrow I intend to go skip diving. A house being renovated locally has thrown out a pine dining table which is perfect for my table saw project. I gained permission to collect it this evening. If I don’t get arrested I will be off to the hospital for my next appointment with the Consultant. So far these appointments have been a lot of waiting around to be told just about bugger all that I didn’t already know. I doubt very much that my next appointment will be any different but never mind they do a great coffee in the canteen.

Where did the day go? 2230 already. My day started at 0615 this morning for a trip to a car boot to hopefully buy every clamp on the market. I think I managed the task but it wasn’t easy work, with me unable to lift anything too heavy with my bad arm and with difficulty of keeping my hand on my badside to my mouth, I made a poor decision to buy a bacon sarnie after getting some sash clamps. I started holding the clamps in my right arm to devour said sandwich but that was never going to work, so I stopped swapped hands and soon found that wasn’t going to work either. So I took the decision to stop and consume my breakfast before continuing, see there are cognitive powers up there. However, a plane (Stanley No4), three clamps and 2 litres of wood glue solved revived the problem of not enough hands. Again I dug deep and decided, all on my own, to take the items back to my car. I call this adapting. I am proud of my adaptive powers. 

At the stroke of 0830 I set off home and took a couple of hours to relax and take some painkillers before setting off for Sandwell Valley RSPB for a gentle walk around. We spent some time in the Marsh Hide watching a juvenile Lapwing going about its business and as we were about to leave when a tiny bird came into view. Even though we hadn’t got a clue what it was, we were captivated as it skirted the shore of the lake. Armed with a memorised image and several photographs we headed out to the main hide. On such a warm day the hide gave pleasant respite from the heat and as usual there were plenty of volunteers on hand to help us with identification. The unknown bird turned out to be a Common Sandpiper, which was good to learn but also a disappointment to find out that it was a Common one. Having confused us for so long it should have at least been uncommon.

From the hide we were shown some Little Ringed Plover, the staff and Linda were very patient when I continued to not see it long after a sensible person would have. After spotting one I was quick to spot another, I may be slow but I am enthusiastic. We also had the privilege to see fledgling Oystercatchers and Lapwings. The Common Sandpiper also decided to pop up again to prove his name. I love going to Sandwell and this was the first time we had been since my accident. It was a real contrast to see how much had changed in three months. We spent a while watching a Crow stealing Goose eggs and watching Crows fighting off a persistent Buzzard. From villain to hero or perpetrator to victim. There was a juxtaposition that can only seem fair in nature. As we returned to the car passing one of the newer islands we watched a massive Pike, swim in and out of the channels, a fin lifting out of the water here and there. Graceful and yet deadly, like so much of the wild.

Being as tired as a tired thing that hadn’t slept well, we returned home, where I oddly decided to cook a curry, outdoors, on a camping stove. At one point this notion actually made sense. I think at that particular time I was due some Tramadol. However the idea was fundamentally flawed due to a malfunctioning camping stove. This is a wise lesson for all to take in. Always test your camping equipment before you need it. 

And on that top tip, I will leave you for the night, Goodnight.

While I wait for the votes to be cast in the Eurovision Song Contest I will try and get a blog uploaded. Wow what a day and for a change not a single negative thing is on the agenda, well apart from a minor detail.

I made a bid on a table saw which will form a large part of things that I will not be mentioning on an open forum. We took a drive through Longbridge  to collect it and for an area associated with rusting hulks and three day weeks, I was surprised at the green and rural landscapes. It is truly beautiful out there and we soaked up the sun and the views on the journey down. Being a little bit timid behind the wheel and not bothering to test the performance beyond 60mph we managed over 50 miles to the gallon which was a lesson we taught in deed.

The table saw was in very good condition, the patina of well used but well loved and the vintage of the parts mean that I am sure I will get many happy hours destroying wood with it. The sad part was that the owner didn’t want to part with it, unfortunately he departed this mortal coil making the saw a little redundant. I will continue the legacy of looking after it on his behalf.

We cruised over to Middleton RSPB with the windows down and the wind in Linda’s hair. My arm wasn’t that happy with driving but I felt the rewards outweighed the disadvantages. However, if this is an insight into driving for the future I will need an automatic as the tablets that do take the pain away aren’t suitable for operating machinery. After the last few weeks I have lost any affection for pain, not that I had any to start with.

The Hall wasn’t open and in a way that was a good thing. Having only one lens and that one being unsuitable for taking shots of buildings, I could have been a little disappointed. As the building is in a state of disrepair, I was allowed a view of middle age construction that wouldn’t be available in a restored building. The wattle and daub, the hand formed bricks, the pegged mortice and tenon joints with the carpenters assembly marks on them, all gave an insight I truly enjoyed as we waited for the chips to be cooked for our picnic.

After a lovely al fresco lunch we set off to walk around the reserve. Almost as soon as we left the car park, we came upon the Heronry, although the Herons were having an afternoon nap  the Lesser Spotted Woodpecker and the Greenfinches were working very hard to feed their young. Buoyed by this we headed to the lakes and after a fairly long walk we ended up at the edge of the former gravel pits. The lakes were alive with black headed gulls and quite a few Tufted Ducks. We decided on a clockwise loop and stopped numerous times and took in each individual lake. We were joined by an unfamiliar call, which finally gave away the location of a Reed Bunting. After giving himself up, he then hung around whilst I got my camera out and focussed up. Which was nice of him. 

If you decide to visit Middleton and take the Wetlands walk be prepared for a fairly long excursion as there are no facilities once you leave the car park and the circular walk is around two miles. We spent over three hours out in the wilds and enjoyed every minute of it. As a fairly new reserve there is a lot left to be developed but what has been done is done well and I will gladly go back on a regular basis. 

At the end of the day we caught sight of Lesser Spotted Woodpecker, Greenfinch, Reed Bunting, Black Headed Gulls, Tufted Duck, Coots, Mallards, Great Crested Grebe, Grasshopper Warbler, Lapwing and Ringed Plover, which isn’t a bad collection for a day. 

Before we returned home to char a steak or two, we had heard a vicious rumour, probably started by me, that the Manor Arms had closed. Fortunately a fact finding mission proved this allegation incorrect. A perfect end to a perfect day and more of the same tomorrow as we are off to Sandwell Valley. Result!

A day out at Middleton RSPB with my new camera. The place is #amazeballs. I cannot wait to go back, I may well take a brolly next time as my arms are a tad red. 

Middleton RSPB set 1