The trees may be starting to show signs autumn is on the way, the mornings may have a bit more nip, and even some mist and fog, the evenings may be losing their light… but the surest sign that summer is coming to an end, is that Ellie has gone back to school, and Nikki has returned to Hatfield for her final year. Ellie was back to school on Thursday. She is a now a ‘year 6’ and in her final year of primary school. Which means in a few weeks she will be going round looking at secondary schools, and we will have to submit a form for her with her school selection on it, and she will be doing her 11+. We want her to go to the school where Nikki and Robbie went, and where I am a governor, it isn’t a grammar school so she doesn’t need to pass her 11+). It isn’t a certainty, because we are not in catchment. The school is a ‘faith’ school, and as long as the vicar signs the form to say we are regular church goers she should get in. But it will be an anxious wait.

Along with the return to school, all the school term time pursuits start, so Ellie will be going back to Guides, dancing classes and Crusaders. Tricia will be going back to Brownies, and the regular pattern of life will resume. Of course the return to school sometimes means replenishment of uniform and school shoes…  and for Ellie the chief item was new school shoes. So Tricia took her off to get measured up.. she is now a size 6. Good grief.

Nikki went into her new house today. Tricia took her down to Hatfield, and moved her in. She is in with a load of mates, and was looking forward to getting moved in. She is cooking them all a roast dinner this evening. Having said that I am picking her up on Thursday evening, as she is off to Bath for the weekend for the GB Bobsleigh trials. The weekend after that she will be in Latvia with the GB team.

Robbie has been working hard this week, he has sanded down the patio furniture, and oiled it… and done a smashing job, the table looks as good as new. I cut the grass yesterday and finished oiling the patio chairs. I was intending to do some creosoting on the fence panels today, but it rained, so that looks like a job for next weekend.  Robbie played cricket for the village team today, he took 3 wickets, but they lost a close game. Rob goes off to uni in a fortnight.

Having had a week to recover from the previous weeks ailments, Tricia was just about up to competing for Aylesbury AC, in a competition at Watford. She did 100m, High Jump and Shot putt. She was pleased to have just competed, as she had been struggling all week with a bruised hip. On Thursday Tricia was due to go down to Chatham to pick up a load of jars – the only place that she can find to supply the quantities of jars she uses. Nikki ended up driving her there and back as the bruised hip would have mad for uncomfortable driving. So, she did well to compete yesterday. Now she is restocked with with jars Tricia will be back into chutney production tomorrow.

Now for the saga of my shoes. For many years, I have purchased Loakes. A good quality shoe that I get resoled and reheeled when required, and I often get many years wear out of them. For years I used a small independant shoe repairers in Buckingham. About 18 months ago the chap retired and sold out to Timpsons. Well, the first time I needed my shoes to be resoled I took them in. The bloke that served me did at least speak English (not Polish, or any of the other eastern european languages that seem more commonplace in England these days than English itself). However, it would seem that his competence in talking seemed to be the limit of his abilities, and he had no abilities in repairing shoes… when I went there to pick up my resoled shoes I was told about the mishap with the stitching machine, which according to this bloke seemed to have a life of its own, and the machine had mangled and ruined my shoes.

Well, I of course was somewhat irate at this, and probably had look of murderous intent on my face because the bloke immediately offered to replace the shoes… well, I was fine with this as they were a good few years old, and I would come out with new shoes at no cost. And a week later I had new shoes.

A month back I noticed that the sole on the bottom of the new shoes was now thin and would need replacing. I was reluctant to take them back to the idiot that killed my previous pair, and looked for an independant and competent shoe repairer. However, it would seem Timpsons has spread like wild fire in the last few years and are the Tesco of the shoe repair industry. I went into one in Watford, but immediately judged the guy behind the counter to have less intelligence than our cat Pickles. Similarly the same in Chalfont, and I had already read a poor review of the one in Aylesbaury… so, a fortnight ago, keen to get the shoes resoled before autumn weather arrived, and believeing that surely they couldn’t do it to me twice I went off to Buckingham.

I was intially cheered to see the bloke behind the counter was a different one (the other one must have been sacked for killing too many shoes), and he spoke in a very pleasant Brummie accent. He informed me that the shoes would take a week as the stitching machine had a problem (alarm bells and klaxons immediately sounded in my head) and it was being fixed in the week… So, last Saturday I called, and asked if my shoes were ready.. and spoke to a different bloke (seems the other one was now on holiday)…. Nah mate, I was told, stitching machine is still broken they are going to Milton Keynes. They should be ready Tuesday… So come Tuesday I phoned… no mate I was told, they will be back Thursday. Which was convenient as I was going to a governors meeting on Thursday… I thought I would pick the shoes up on the way. So I called Thursday morning.. and was told they would be in by Noon. Damn… the meeting was due to start at 11. But no problem I thought, I will pick them up after the meeting. I arrived at the shoe shop, with about a minute to spare before it closed. The bloke behind the counter took my ticket, disappeared out the back…. and, well was gone a long time. I thought he might have done a runner. But no, he eventually emerged… with no shoes. Sorry mate, he said, I got confused, these shoes have gone to Manchester. Well, my heart sank, and for a few moments I was simply lost for words. I mean, where do you start… after nearly two weeks, and with all the various delays but assurances I was now told something completely different. I had to sit in the car for about ten minutes for the anger to subside, before I could trust myself  to drive sensibly. I was convinced I had seen the last of my shoes. Timpsons had killed another pair.

On Friday morning at work, I was sat in a meeting, when the phone rang… ‘Allo Mate, your shoes are in… Realy I said… Yup, was the answer. And so yesterday, I went to Buckingham, convinced that it would all go pear shape, and the bloke would try and convince me that the pair of ladies shoes with stiletto heels in a bag were mine.

Well… imagine my surprise. Not only were they my shoes, but they had done an exceptionally good job. I suppose all was well in the end. My 10 year old shoes have now been returned to ’emergency status’ and relocated back to the cupboard.

In other news, Ninja is still missing. I have replaced the stylus on my record player, and also replaced the cd-rewriter on the computer.

A 4 day week ahead for me (woohoo), as I have Friday off. Tricia is going away to the west country with her lady friends from the village on Friday, so I intend to enjoy a lazy day, and long weekend myself.