1996: A year of first and lasts

Thursday 5th December 1996

Diary

dec-5-snow

The view from Hunters Reach December 5th 1996

Woke up to a decent covering of snow. Both our schools were closed to pupils as too  was our local one so there was nothing left to do but make the most of a rare day off. Fiona of course decided it would be a good idea to finish off some preparations for the school concert and shamed me into doing some marking and report writing. The good thing about the pupils at Wendover is they don’t create a lot of marking. The bad thing is there are always some reports to write or records to complete.

I was bored silly by 11 so persuaded Fiona that we should go for a nice long walk in the snow. We set out around 12 and arrived in Stony for 1. The route took us through Bancroft, New Bradwell then Wolverton and along the canal and river to Stony. It was only right that we should drop in the Vaults to check that everyone was o.k. in this weather. It was like an old school reunion of Denbigh folk so we were able to catch up with Roger Siewert and Tim Hawkins over a pint.

We walked back through Galley Hill and Two Mile Ash, getting home at around 4. A good walk and well worth it. A night of watching the T.V. Third rock from the Sun, Crocodile Shoes and Question Time. Snowing again, looks like tomorrow may be off work wise as well.

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1994: A Bradwell village life?

Wednesday 23rd November 1994

When I was down, I went inwards and people rightly ignored me. Fiona didn’t have that luxury and eventually she found a way to let me know that all the Richard and Fiona stuff was getting to her and if I didn’t change, then she would. This Richard and Fiona stuff was evident in friends saying just how much they liked our life style and how lucky we were to be so much a couple. Our lifestyle was out of consequence, not planned. Every time we looked to do something we wanted, fate seemed to be chucking stuff back at us. Our response to this mini crisis? Believe me, it was just a mini crisis; was to look to try and move away, change jobs, avoid the problem. How it came out is partly described by the poem below. This poem was never read by her. That’s because I wrote it yesterday. There was a contemporary version, thrown away as soon as I lost the courage to show her.

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1993: Football losses, hotels and weekends away

Sunday 14th November 1993

My diary for that day plus some photos from our trips of the time.

wycombe-programme

It was a different Sunday as we went to Bath for the F.A. Cup game against Wycombe Wanderers. The match was all ticket and we were lucky to get two in the family enclosure. We stopped off on our way at the Crown in Marshfield for a Sunday roast. The beer was just about o.k. and the food similarly underwhelming. The pub is convenient because you don’t have to battle with the traffic and queues near the ground or in central Bath. We took the usual back route over Lansdown and down through Weston village, parking in the car park at the end of the Lower Bath Road. We couldn’t get tickets for next week’s game at Stockport as they only gave us 300 or so. The programme says no fans should travel to the game without one. It is a good job we have two seats in the main stand among the home fans then isn’t it? It’s not as if we would make a nuisance of ourselves should Rovers score. The Wycombe fans were full of themselves. They are a very happy-clappy set of fans, all scarves and bobble hats and decidedly non-league in attitude. All very nice and no doubt things will change as they get used to life in the league. No doubt also they would have brought more fans if the game wasn’t designated as all ticket. I am also sure Rovers would have nearer a 10 000 crowd if they could have sorted out a better arrangement of fans for the game. We should have won. Archie smacked one in from 30 yards but Parkin really gifted them a goal near the end. He cleared a routine back pass straight to their player who passed it to the back of the net in acres of space.

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1992: Change, very much not by design.

Sunday 1st November 1992

Sunday evening Last day of a fairly typical half term holiday. Not particularly enamoured with life at the moment. We have moved in to Denbigh’s new site but I am getting more and more disgruntled with my life within it. The change has meant we no longer have the Lord Grey pupils supporting our sixth form groups and Scrivener’s carpings are endless and in my mind pretty pointless. There is only so much research in to the transfer market of the last ten years can do to give me another outlet. Jon is doing a good job in getting our team to work together and I hope I am being as supportive as possible and not just groaning on about the job.

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1985: Honeymoon, Hertford Hospital and Housing.

Monday 26th August 1985

A Bank Holiday spent at home is quite a rarity. We decided that, as MIL is away, we would do something local. The Vic had a band playing in the garden in the afternoon and we went along to listen and sit in there rather than walk too far. We are off to RTW in the morning if Fiona is up to it. The appendix relieved love of my life says she is recovering well but she would wouldn’t she? I will pick up the photographs from the honeymoon in the morning and we will set off around 10, only if she is up to the journey. The band was o.k. a bit too much playing of popular standards to be worth watching again. We chatted with a bloke called Les, or Smiler Smith, for a while about his cows and the toot. We came home and I had made a beef in orange casserole for us to have after a G and T in the garden. The walk was just about far enough for Fi. She would like to move to a bigger house. In reality what she  wants is for us to move to a house that is ours rather than just mine. That is fine by me and we will look at estate agents in the next few days. Another alternative is to buy out the share in my house. I will talk to the bank when we get back from Tunbridge Wells. Rovers lost 3-2 at Reading.

stedders

Stedders, 1985 version

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