Blow, Blow Thou Winter Wind

Like most people I have a severe dislike of the winter months and feel sure that human beans were designed for hibernation like hamsters and frogs and bears and hedgehogs.

As soon as the leaves start falling I know the long cold trek begins and it will be three or four months before I dare to look forward to the smell of freshly-cut grass or the sound of the dawn chorus.

Of course there are always sporadic bouts of winter activity to break up the tedium and temporarily ignite the burgeoning passions but for me it is a war of attrition until I see that first snowdrop.

I booked myself on a St John Ambulance life-saving course last week and my certificate arrived today. I am now officially competent to perform CardioPulmonary Resuscitation (CPR) to gold standard i.e. compression-ventilation ratio (30:2). To the layman this means if I come across someone who is not breathing I can try to stimulate them back to life by compressing their chest 30 times (in approximately 18 seconds) followed promptly by two goes at artificial respiration, and then repeating this process continually. One might imagine that the silver standard described a less competent student but amusingly it merely suggests the secondary option of cardiocerebral resuscitation (CCR). This technique is simply chest compressions without artificial respiration. My rather camp instructor at St John described certain situations where one might struggle with mouth-to-mouth, for instance if the lifeless person was abhorrent to the eye or smelt!
Actually, although I am being a little facetious here I suspect that we would all have to search our consciences if put on the spot. The good news is that research has shown that both the gold and silver standards are equally effective in almost all cases except for incidences of drowning or drug overdoses where mouth-to-mouth is essential.

On Sunday morning I braved the elements and rode to Horsham to join my team-mates at AD Cycles for a training session. It was quite a ride. In all, between the nine of us, we managed to conjure up seven different mechanical breakdowns i.e. four of us punctured at various times (yes I was one of them), one of us had a saddle problem, one had a loose front mech and another suffered a broken chain. Being experienced cyclists we all relied on each other to have Alan keys and chain tools and such like but to a man none of us had anything!

On Tuesday I attended a quiz at The Guildhall in London as a guest of Grahame Harding, the Chairman of First City Care. Grahame is a splendid fellow and founded Children in Crisis in 1993 with Sarah, Duchess of York and Paul Szkiler. The charity is an investment in the future of our world and every pound raised sees 98p go directly to the various projects. If you would like to support a child or buy Christmas Cards etc please phone 020 7627 1040.
Anyway, last year Grahame and I had our mutual friend Jeremy Beadle on board for this most prestigious quiz but despite our valiant efforts we narrowly missed victory but ended a gallant fourth. We vowed then that we would win the quiz this year in Jeremy’s honour. We had a terrific team and everyone contributed from Steve, the chief accountant to Paula, Grahame’s good lady wife, and especially the three young glamorous ladies who were indispensable in the pop culture area. We led all the way and were eight points clear going into the last round, in which we scored a maximum 10 points. But alas we managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory as the second-placed team of Smith and Williamson scored a magnificent 10 also but had their score doubled by playing their joker! Drat and double drat!
Well we all trundled back to The Ritz, oh yes I forgot to tell you that Grahame very generously puts us up at the world’s most famous hotel, and sipped the manager’s complimentary champagne whilst conducting the usual post-mortem.
Quite honestly we really were quite awesome and I defy even my friends, the celebrated Eggheads, having much of a chance against us that evening – it can only have been Jeremy’s little joke that we lost : )

The seemingly never-ending grind of researching my books becomes a far more lovingly undertaken exercise during the dark winter nights. Although I had the disappointment of having my A to Z of Britain and Ireland put back a year it has been a joy to update and review and now at least I have the prospect of looking forward to its publication next Autumn.

And so December beckons and the Christmas furore begins. I’ve never really been a fan. My mum died on Christmas Day and this brought home more than ever that it is a time for family togetherness. This year, for the first time in many, I have hope of something approaching a family Christmas. My dear brother Kevin is home from Ibiza and with him comes hope that other members of the family might get together as in days gone by.