Window shopping.I've been on my own now for 6 years, at first I think I was waiting for my wife to change her mind.
I never wanted a divorce, but I got one.
Then I started to like being on my own, I still do, but something is missing.
Anyway, recently I decided to do something about it. I've been hanging out at the Cumby and other quiet places where eligible women a bit thin on the ground. Richard and me have been going to places where we might have a better chance.
First of all we were going to a well know pub in Ponteland, loads of 40+ attractions. We got bored with that, so we have started going to Newcastle, party town of the north. It's knee deep in lovely 25+ girls all having a great time.
It's not working, we have a good time but nothing really comes from it.
So should I join a dating site, I did briefly join one about a year after I moved here. I sat down for a few weeks clicking away, no, no, no, no, no, NO. Eventually I forgot about it, having put my indicator onto 'Hide this profile' or some thing like that. About 10.5 months later I got a reminder, they charged me another years subscription.
I did get one date off it, she was nice, I was nice. We had a second date, Sunday Lunch, we never saw each other after that, except one night I was walking away from a folk singers night near the High Level Bridge and she was at the bus stop. We said hello and went our own ways.
I've got mixed feeling about dating. I do not really want to change my ways, I like my golf, football, skiing, singing and drinking.
I just wonder where a woman would fit in, on the 3 or 4 nights a week I stop in I'm singing, writing and generally wasting time (writing) or watching a bit of TV.
I'm going to leave this on the back burner for a while, say another 6 years.
The Great North Run.It starts at the top of my street, or a least the Central Motorway going into town from here. Most of my friends and drinking holes are in that direction from my house.
The road gets closed the night before and it stays shut until about 6 this evening. I'm cut off, it's not worth going out. All the side roads round town are full of people being diverted. Hell.
The race is run by Brendan Foster, a North of England athlete.
About 10 years ago I ended up doing a satellite job at his house. I did not know it was his house, just Mrs Foster.
She was difficult, her TV aerial was in very poor condition and when she started to compare my satellite picture with her aerial pictures she asked me why they were so poor. I told her the aerial was old, she said it was perfect before I came. At this point it started raining, hard. Her aerial pictures got worse, I told her she was getting water in somewhere on the roof, she said show me. 'What?'
It was at the point I looked round and Brendan was sitting there, he was eating something, just ignoring the fact that his wife and me were balling our heads off at each other.
The upshot was she made me go on the roof in rain that was bouncing 9'' off the ground and cut a piece of cable from the aerial.
The cable had rubbed on the tiles and was shot to pieces. She then looked at it and said 'Now you can fix it'. I did no such thing. The more they have the more they want.
Two years later I was booked out to go to her house to fit a TV, I phoned up and told her what time I would be there. 2 minutes later the department cancelled the job, it had written on the job sheet 'No outside contractors to sent', in other words 'Do not send Paul Fenlon'.