Friday’s practice visit with the team at Bow Lane Dental Group was an enormously enjoyable experience, working on their marketing plans (elevator speech for referral business card and lots of work on UAP’s) and holding personal progress interviews with some of the team members.
We had some spare time in the afternoon and I took the plunge and topped up my tooth whitening with 45-minutes of Zoom! I also have gel to administer for the next 5 days – very pleased with the results – laser whitening has clearly progressed since my last attempt about 3 years ago.
A very late supper and overnight at the Tower Hotel – where I cannot praise the customer service highly enough.
After a slow start this morning, I hurtled up to Manchester in the Pontiac GTO, where my apartment here will be a base for the next few days.
Tomorrow I plan some Christmas shopping with my daughters (as well as catching Liverpool versus Manchester United on TV) – Monday and Tuesday are practice visits in Leeds and Northern Ireland.
On the subject of football, I listen with interest as I drive to the comments on the appointment of Fabio Capelli as the new England coach. He seems a strange chap – quoted a saying that “a coach is someone who has to create wine with whatever grapes he is supplied with”. Hmmmm – not quite my definition of coaching – but the Football Association aren’t going to pay me £6m a year for the next 4 years to see how good I am at home-brewing.
I do, however, remember my late father’s attempts at creating his very own white wine – our home was invaded by slowly bubbling flagons of strange yellow liquid for months on end. All I can recall of the result was that it tasted lousy and rendered my parents unconcious in less then 2 hours.
Let’s hope that Snr. Capelli’s home brewing will be as potent without the bitter after taste of forced fermentation. At least he has 4 years to come up with a vintage.
I’ll manage my expectations.
I can’t help wondering how the England players will take to an Italian who is quoted as saying:

“When a gentleman crosses his legs and the trouser leg rides up to show hairy shins, it offends my eyes. It’s like watching women wearing their stockings rolled down around their ankles. Both would be a real turn-off”

Not quite Eric Cantona – but on the way.
I can see Wayne Rooney and Steven Gerrard really bonding with him as he arrives in the dressing room with Immac.

OK boys, firsta we gonna get rid of the chest hair – and then we gonna get rid of dosa hairy legsa.
Trust me, I getta you to de worlda cuppa. You do as I say or you not gonna see your muvver againa.

Back to reality…
The apartment here is a sanctuary – a place I feel immediately comfortable as soon as I walk through the door (thank goodness the central heating is working – it’s freezing weather).
It’s “my stuff” and not a hotel room. It’s minimilist and very much a bloke’s pad.
Such a pleasure to unpack my travel bags and hang clothes on real hangers in a real wardrobe.
I don’t have a television here – which can be spooky late at night – but there is a kind of enjoyment about being cut off from the media bombardment.
He wrote on his laptop! Oh well – sort of cut off anyway. At least it’s quiet.
I have just sipped a nice afternoon cup of tea with a dark chocolate Kit-Kat – and I’m going to settle down and read for a while before heading out to borrow a seat and watch Strictly Come Dancing (it’s the semi!) whilst I visit with my kids this evening.
You’ve guessed that this blog post is me keeping myself company – well my Facebook site is down!