First and Four-most

It's been a week marked by a number of 'firsts' in one way or another.

About nine years ago, I picked up once more a habit I dropped at the age of about fourteen, that of watching live football.  Not until recently, however, have I adopted what seems to be a universal trait of  footie-following males (I'm not being sexist; I simply have no experience of this behaviour in females), in that there is one team that each refers to in conversation in the first person, e.g. "We thrashed So-and-so United this week," when, as individuals, they may have been tens, perhaps hundreds, of miles from the ground, let alone one of the team.

"My team" in this regard is the one of which my former boss is joint manager, Biggleswade FC.  They weren't founded until 2016 so, in one achievement after another, they can legitimately claim the occasion to be their first.  This Sunday to my delight - and that of about half of a record crowd of 527 - they achieved perhaps their greatest first so far in their short existence.  For the first time, they reached the fifth round of the FA Vase competition.  Last season they reached the fourth round, when they succumbed to the team that eventually lifted the trophy.  This year, as a result of an 87th minute goal, they have gone one stage further, making it to the last sixteen teams in this national contest.  To be fair, this would have been a first time honour  for whichever team had won the match but, considering that their opponents, Stowmarket Town, have had since 1883 to make their mark, this has to have been of greater value to 'my' team.

Early next morning, came the next 'first-time' shock of the week.  For three years and more a handful of us have been gathering at church on Monday mornings for a simple breakfast, Bible-reading and prayer.  One of our number has difficulty getting up, and often arrives just as we're getting under way.  We all value his company and are grateful for his efforts, and he joins in the amusement, often joking about his late arrival as coffee is poured for him and a plate is passed.  This Monday, to our surprise and pleasure - and possibly to his as well - he arrived before we began!

On Wednesday, it could well have been me who was the embarrassed one.  Our church home group meets alternately at my home and another one.  This week saw the first gathering of the new year, and as I planned my week, I remembered that I should need to get my room ready as usual after lunch on Wednesday.  At 2.0, therefore, with the scene set in readiness, I was patiently reading a book when, glancing at the clock, I had a moment's panic and, upon research, discovered that I should by then be knocking on a door on the other side of town.  It wasn't a 'diary malfunction'; the diary hadn't even been consulted!  For whatever reason, I was absolutely certain that the meeting was at mine ... but it wasn't.  One thing we decided later was that, in a few weeks' time, we shall experiment with a video-assisted study, following a suggestion from our vicar of a particular course we might like to follow.  This will be a first for us all.

This morning at breakfast, I fumed, "I've had enough!"  I've lost count of the times I've had to explore the innards of my toaster with a narrow knife to recover the remains of a slice that has not managed to navigate its way out of the top of the 'operation zone'.  Some years ago, when I had a motorhome, I obtained a toaster on freecycle to put in it and discovered, to my great pleasure, that it was big enough to take a full-size slice of bread. 

Sadly, I had it only a short while before it decided it had toasted its last slice and it passed to that eternal kitchen cupboard from which there is no return (aka the council tip).  I replaced it with a cheap one from the local supermarket and ever since then I've been scouring the shelves of Morrisons in a suspicious manner, looking for the loaf with the lowest profile, in an effort to make sure that this cheap toaster will accommodate my breakfast slice.

Now the worm has turned.  After prolonged investigation on line, I have gained fluency in toaster-speak, learned the euphemisms used to disguise the fact that particular models - despite having 'wide slots, so you can toast crumpets' - will only accept 'square' bread, and also discovered one particular model whose unique selling point is that it will 'toast the whole slice'.  Sadly this one is also priced in line with the rarity of its qualification.  At last, I've settled for one with a 248mm slot to take four slices or four buns!  It's cheaper than the 'toast the whole slice' luxury but, with that capacity, it ought to be able to meet my limited requirements with room to spare!

Watch this space ...!