After 27 years, today was Barbara’s last day at work. She’s taken voluntary redundancy (she maintains it was a question of volunteering or, a little further down the line being given it anyway). It was a bit sad because no-one was at the office today because they had things to do elsewhere. This wasn’t on purpose, just bad luck.

They had cakes and card and present yesterday but who wants to be alone on their last day? When I left at 3:45, I felt a bit sad leaving her alone.

But enough of that. Today at lunchtime I went down to the basement. I’d seen a gallery on various maps throughout the museum showing a gallery in the basement as well as something called the Garden. The thing is, we’re in the basement so I wasn’t sure where the rumoured Garden actually was. Well, I figured it out and visited today.

Firstly, the Garden is a big play area for little kids. I’m not sure what’s in there but there were a lot of delighted shrieks when I walked passed.

Behind the Garden is The Secret Life of the Home, a gallery devoted to labour saving devices around the home. Actually, they say that but there’s also TVs, radios and phonographs which really only saved the labour of the servants who used to entertain us with their strange frolicking. But enough about the class struggle, these objects clearly had their own part in the destruction of this particular barrier.

Irons, washing machines, cookers, vacuum cleaners…you imagine it, it’s here in all its glorious evolutionary steps from the Mesolithic* to modernity.

Here’s a very cute little sewing machine.

1877 Weir chain stitch sewing machine

This was a cheap British version of an American model and sold for 55 shillings (£100 today). Apparently it wasn’t that good as a sewing machine but appealed to people because it looked good in the home. So design over substance started in the late 19th century then. And I thought it was a modern thing! Only goes to show…

Here’s a teas-maid from 1904. It works by the alarm releasing a plate which allows a match to strike and light the spirit stove. Once the water is boiled, the kettle tilts and pours the tea out. Presumably the tea leaves had been sitting in the water all night and the milk in the cup. Still, a good way to ensure a lie in on a Sunday.

1904 Teas-maid

And what has to be the most elaborate way to core and peel an apple I’ve ever seen! Mind you, it also pops the apple off afterwards so you can put another one on straight afterwards.

Apple corer and peeler

And, naturally, one of life’s real labour saving devices, courtesy of Mr Crapper.

Thomas Crapper's gift to humanity...his name

This cistern is from 1900 and, while it has Crapper’s name on it, it was actually patented by someone called Albert Giblin in 1898. Just imagine, rather than not giving a crap about something you could actually be not giving a gib!

The whole gallery is quite fun and imaginative. There’s lots of things to play with and turn and test – there’s an early burglar alarm that they dare you to try and outrun and an automatic door that isn’t.

It made for a nice lunchtime.

* Actually, not really back as far as the Mesolithic.

Mirinda wants to add a bit of colour to the Canary Wharf flat. Having been a corporate let in its past life, everything is very muted (there’s even a beige rug in the middle of the living room which has a beige carpet) so a bit of colour would be a welcome change to the endless sea of bland. To that end, we had the brainwave of enlarging some photographs onto canvas and hanging them in place of the cappuccino variation picture that dominated the living room wall.

In choosing the images, Mirinda decided she’d like some close-up shots of flowers from our garden. That way they would not just lend an air of brightness but also be personal to us in that I took them and we grew them.

After a long, painstaking selection process, we came up with three images that (we thought) complimented each other beautifully. I ordered them online and they arrived two days later. I use Photobox (LINK) for our calendars every year because, not only are their products first class but they delivery ridiculously fast. True to form, they all arrived and looked fantastic, though I left the plastic on them for any pre-hanging viewings in order to protect them.

The three white boxes have sat in the dining room ever since they arrived as I haven’t been up to London since we put the house on the market. Today I remedied that.

And what a magnificent day to visit London. Brilliant blue skies and 27°. According to Carol on Breakfast, we are having a true Indian summer and this should keep up all week and into the weekend. I was not the only one lapping it up. Hordes of tourists were doing the same. Clearly everyone is taking advantage of the summer we never had.

I arrived at the flat with an hour to hang the photos. Plenty of time, I thought. Until I found that, while the canvas prints had screws and fittings, they didn’t come with picture wire. While this wasn’t an insurmountable problem, it would make me late for my lunch date with Mirinda so I did as much as I could, intending to return afterwards.

We had a lovely lunch, sitting outside in Embankment Gardens with thousands of other London workers and then went for a walk before Mirinda had to return for a meeting.

As I walked back to the Tube I noticed a whole series of wonderful art deco statues carved into the corners of a building just down from her office.

Art Deco figure on the side of a building

I then had an interesting if somewhat circuitous trip back to the flat. Getting a District line train from Embankment, I decided to try Tower Gateway to change for the DLR. The first train I boarded decided it was going to terminate so I quickly left that and caught the next.

Getting off at Tower, I found out that Tower Gateway is a good ten minute walk away from the Tube. At least it wasn’t raining. Finally arriving at the DLR station, I soon realised that it was a different line which didn’t go to Canary Wharf! So I took it one stop to Shadwell and changed to one that did go to Canary Wharf.

The reason I took the DLR rather than the Jubilee Line was because the hardware store is closer to the DLR stop. It was all very easy to buy what I needed and then make my way to the flat.

For the second time today, I went to work hanging the photos only to find that the light fittings I was hanging them between are not at the same height! There is ten millimetres difference. While this isn’t much, it does look a bit odd when the pictures are level. The job then took on mammoth proportions as I made little adjustments here and there to try and make it look level with the ceiling AND the light fittings. Here’s the result.

A photo of photos

Finally it was just a matter of running the vacuum cleaner around the flat and then take my leave for the ferry. I had decided to treat myself to a river cruise back to Waterloo after Mirinda texted me this morning declaring how lovely the river was. And she didn’t exaggerate.

It was a gorgeous trip back and not as crowded as it can get during half term or school holidays. Mind you, in order to be outside, I had to stand up for most of the trip.

I overheard a woman on the train back talking to the guard. She was explaining that she had been in a rush to catch the train and accidentally bought the wrong ticket. At first he was confused, thinking she was on the wrong train but he quickly worked it out. She had wanted Farnham but had purchased Fareham. Easily done when you’re in a hurry but the fare is almost twice as much – I assume she used a card and didn’t even look at the price.

Anyway, she told the guard she was worried she’d be fined for having the wrong ticket. He laughed and said she’d actually paid too much rather than not enough so, in a sense, she’d been fined already. She smiled but didn’t laugh with him. She wanted to know about a refund. He scribbled something on the back of her ticket and told her to try at the ticket office in Farnham. He told her that, while South West Trains don’t generally refund people’s mistakes, they might be feeling generous because the day had been so lovely.

What an absolutely stunning day we had in Farnham today. The weather was perfect. The park looked perfect. It was all pretty much perfect.

Looking across the park

After shopping and then discussing the ghastly thing that is Yahoo 7 with Mum & Dad, I started my day’s work.

Back when I varnished the window sill in the stairwell, some of the stain managed to attack the gloss paint on the edge of the window. When I tried to remove it with a damp cloth (as instructed by the can) all I managed to do was strip away some of the gloss paint. It made little difference to the stain, which decided it liked the taste of the white paint. Strange but I guess that teaches me not to use masking tape.

Armed with sandpaper, I attacked the stain, stripping back the gloss paint in process. This time it was on purpose. It was then just a quick sand soap clean and thorough dry before giving it a quick coat of primer. An hour later, I finished it off with a coat of gloss. Six hours later I was able to close the window as it seems to be dry. This time I used masking tape and was very, very careful. Apart from the smell of paint, it looks much better.

The dogs had an appointment at the vet today. The second part of their usual yearly shots. Today it was to be the kennel cough spray up the nose, which they hate. For the first time since we’ve been visiting the vet up the road, the receptionist knew who I was without asking me and looking at her computer first. I was stunned.

The vet called us in and the poodles were (unusually) very well behaved. I don’t mean that they’re naughty or nasty but they do jump around a lot when the other one is on the examination table. Before giving her the spray, the vet looked Carmen over (Carmen is always first).

I mentioned that she had a strange scab on her neck. The vet looked at it and shook her head. She proclaimed that it requires a two week course of antibiotics to clear up any infection and regular salt water bathing. The kennel cough spray would have to wait. She told me that if they are administered together, they cancel each other out!

I wonder how they found that out. Did a dog have its kennel cough spray then take some antibiotics then go into a kennel and contract kennel cough?

So, after our (sort of) wasted trip to the vet, I rewarded the girls with a lovely walk right around the park where they managed to ignore every dog we saw while engaging in fox waste retrieval virtually every five minutes. They were wearing their coats so no need for a bath. Although this is not always a guarantee. As I was explaining to Mirinda on the weekend, Carmen still manages to get it on her front legs and neck sometimes. Rotten dog.

Back at home I returned to my garden work. A couple of weeks ago we bought some cyclamens to put in pots. Last weekend we bought some lovely roses which we don’t really want to put in the ground, given we’re trying to sell the house. Because of this, the roses get first dibs on the pots that were lined up for the cyclamens. So the cyclamens had to be planted.

I read up about their requirements and (hopefully) the new bed by the holly bush should be ideal. I spent a lovely hour preparing the soil and planting them in their new homes while good old Radio 4 kept me company. They looked very pretty in the afternoon light when I’d finished.

New cyclamens

Now for something I really have to share with as many people as I possibly can. My friend Lynden is in a Liva Tone shots ad. It’s all over Facebook…well, not really all over, more just among his friends. One of his relatives put it up on Youtube. I thought it only right and proper that I did the same here. It made me laugh a lot. You can view it below.

He reckons his Shakespearean career is now in tatters. Oh, Ross, what has happened to you?

I forgot to post this photo yesterday. It’s especially for Mum & Dad, knowing how much they love ginger.

A stall that Mum & Dad couldn't have resisted...

And, for the record, I LOVE Turkish delight. Rose is my favourite but I’m also quite keen on pistachio. Peppermint is my least favourite…but I still LOVE it. Sadly, there’s none left. I finished it off today. Did I mention that I LOVE Turkish delight? Well..I do.

Today I did some much needed work in the garden. The weeds have started taking over. I’ve been a bit involved in other things and they know when you’re not keeping an eye on them. They just go mad. It took me nearly all day just to clear a path from the back door steps.

Still, it all looks much nicer now. Though not from a weed’s point of view. Obviously.

I also cut down all the gladdies, which have died off – they don’t last very long! A bit sad but the beds look much nicer without droopy, dead flowers hanging over them.

I had a lovely day for it, though Mirinda tells me it poured in London today. We had a few threatening clouds every now and then but nothing wet.

Actually, the biggest news today was that my friend at Waitrose had a job interview and, fingers crossed, she’ll hear about it on Friday. She’s really not happy at Farnham so a change of store could be just what she needs. I hope so, anyway. I’m not going to mention her name because who knows, someone from Waitrose might read this!

Today the Surrey County Ploughing Match and Country Fair was held at Loseley Park, which isn’t very far from us. We try and go whenever it’s on (not always successfully) because it’s always great fun. Apart from the thrill of the ploughing (there was a steward’s enquiry today) there is things like terrier racing, dog agility, constant clay shoots and, this year, a vintage threshing display. Seriously, life doesn’t get much more exciting than this.

One of the great things about Loseley is that we can take the dogs. There are always lots of dogs and the poodles are treated to sensory overload. Their heads dart in every direction, on their guard for the entire time they’re there. Tails up, tails down, tails totally unsure of which way to go. They get completely manic. We look envious at the dogs who are lying by their owners, fast asleep. Our two wait until they get home, then collapse.

This year, we were treated to an aerobatic display by the Red Hawks Duo. Two small, single propeller planes performing almost balletic movements in the sky. The crowd thoroughly enjoyed them.

The Red Hawks Duo

When we arrived, Julian Ford was in the main ring giving a demonstration of falconry. His birds are magnificent. When not performing, they sit quietly on stumps under his canvas shelter, giving everyone the evil eye. Beautiful birds.

Tethered hawk of some description

Given that my lovely Australian hat was either stolen by the BT Engineer or hidden in the depths of the South East trains lost and found cave, I was on the look out for a new hat. Little did I know that Mirinda was after a deerstalker. Actually, I’m not sure she knew she was looking for one. She felt the combination of ear and head protection was a sure fire hit. Her ears are not that keen on icy cold winds and her Lord and Taylor ear muffs, for some reason, have grown inadequate.

Flaps up, flaps down

The deerstalker she bought is a bit like a racy convertible. The sides fold up for a day without wind but as soon as it starts up, a simple slip of the knot and, wham, down the flaps come, protecting the ears. And speaking of convertibles…we had a bit of a stroll around the vintage cars on display. They were mostly quite pretty.

Four pretty cars

We both rather liked the pink Figaro. Mirinda took a photo for her sister who loves all things pink. I actually quite liked the little delivery van. It looked exactly like the little Matchbox ones only slightly bigger.

We had delicious wild venison burgers for lunch and a pint of Hogs Back TEA for me. That’s the other reason for going to Loseley. It’s not very far from the Hogs Back brewery. During lunch we watched a bit of agility.

One competitor takes an interest in the poodles

Of course we also watched the ferret racing, (presented by the Surrey Ferret Rescue) which was quite funny because the ferrets had no idea what they were supposed to do and spent ages strolling through the pipes. We also watched the threshing machine for a bit. I marvelled at this.

Nowadays farmers use a couple of farm machines which first bail the hay and then wrap the bail in plastic before dumping it in the field, ready to be picked up by a third machine. It’s all very automatic and doesn’t take very long. it’s also quite fun to watch. However, these threshing machines bundle the hay into rectangles by forcing it into a long rectangular tube and compressing it.

Big thresher in action

I rather enjoy watching these big farm machines churning over and doing what they were designed for. Of course, I can also hear every agricultural labourer I’m descended from complaining that these machines took away their livelihoods and left them to move into the urban factories of the great cities. I still enjoy watching them, though.

The time eventually arrived where we’d had enough and we started heading back to the car, passing the clay shooting which the dogs absolutely hate. We retrieved dusty Sidney and headed into the long stream of departing traffic.

A perfect day (I even had some Turkish delight) topped off by my successful purchase of a new hat!

The new Gaz hat

Next door are having the pointing on the front of the house fixed up. This involves ripping out the old and replacing it with the new. Friday night, Dave came over and told me there may be a bit of dust so I should close the windows. He then visited his neighbours on the other side.

Saturday morning and the guy turned up and started work. He used some sort of grinder and created more dust than a sub-Saharan sandstorm. Poor old Sidney was changed from burgundy to dust coloured. As were quite a few other cars in the street. Here he is surrounded by dust.

Dusty Saturday

But, the most amazing thing that happened today was the Carling Cup draw for the fourth round. I never thought I’d ever see this:

Aldershot v Manchester United

Still haven’t a date yet but Nicktor & I will DEFINITELY be there.

I was on my way to the V&A at lunchtime today when I noticed that the Exhibition Road entrance to the Natural History Museum was empty of people. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before. This entrance leads into the Earth Story part of the museum and was once the headquarters of the Geological Society. As I was (again) researching geological type stuff this morning, I figured this was an omen. I went in.

Natural History Museum entrance

I’ve never been to this part of the NHM before. It’s fabulous. The entrance alone is worth seeing. A long, long escalator rises up, taking you through a massive globe of the earth, the constellations painted on the walls, the faint rumblings of tectonic plate movement heard every now and then.

Earth Hall, Natural History Museum

You step off the escalator at the top floor, the floor of the volcano! Each of the floors (there’s three) circle around the central escalator with a staircase taking you gradually back down. It’s a wonderful design and ensures you don’t miss a single rock.

Rather than bore you beyond all reason, I’m only going to mention the Kobe earthquake exhibit.

The earthquake struck Kobe on January 17, 1995 at 5:46 in the morning. And caused a horrendous amount of damage and killed over 6,000 people. The tremors only lasted 20 seconds but the damage was extraordinary with over 200,000 buildings destroyed alone.

To honour the people who lost their lives and to give people the smallest example of what it would have been like, the museum has created a Kobe supermarket complete with shelves of goods, shopping trolleys and closed circuit TV screens showing the actual moments of the quake.

Kobe supermarket waiting for the quake, Natural History Museum

Without realising it, I stepped into the shop and started looking around when the quake struck. For 20 seconds, the floor starts moving, things start rattling, the people on the small TV screens go flying. Clearly, it was not as powerful as the actual earthquake but it was enough to make you realise how awful it must have been. For me, the worst bit was when the lights went out and the screens just flickered black and white static. Quite sobering.

I spent the rest of my lunchtime, joyfully frolicking among display cases of rocks, fondling the 4.6 billion year old meteorite that fell on Victoria a while back (it’s older than the earth!) and generally being in heaven. It was with heavy heart that I returned to work. Sort of.

A lump of Chinese scheelite, Natural History Museum

Tonight I went to the Farnham Maltings and saw a band called Spikedrivers. I had intended to go and see some other guy, whose name has vanished from my mind, but, according to the promotions company that puts on the Thursday night shows, he’d moved to Sweden. Spikedrivers had played at the Maltings before and, again I had to take the word of the woman on the phone for it, were very popular.

As I generally do with these things, I listened to a few samples of their music and then, thinking they sounded pretty good, downloaded one of their earlier albums. They sounded like a bunch of hillbillies! That’s not a complaint. I happen to like hillbilly music – there’s nothing like a bit of that old Clampett spirit for fun and jollities, if you ask me. So I decided to go.

I’d asked Dawn if she fancied a bit of hillbilly music and, although unsure, she said she would. As it turned out she took to her bed with a cold and suffering from exhaustion. I guess that happens when you have twins and it’s their birthday week.

And so, I set off alone, stopping first at the Queen’s Head for a lovely pint. I noticed a band was setting up in the front area of the bar and was almost tempted to just stay and listen to them. While they had a poster in the window, it was quite difficult to read the name of the band, but, judging by the image and design, they had something to do with fairies and unicorns. Sated with a bit of lubricant, I then wandered down to the Maltings.

Apart from what sounded like a boxing lesson on the first floor, the place was deserted. The doors were open, the lights were on but there was no-one around. I looked at my watch. I was actually 20 minutes before the start time so I checked out where the venue was (the Cellar Bar) and settled down to read some more Hans Fallada.

It’s rather a good thing that the Maltings has comfortable lounge chairs because I was sitting there for quite a while. A few other people turned up and sort of milled around, near the door to the Cellar Bar. Well dressed (on the whole), my age and older – typical Farnham audience.

Everyone was confused as the start time had been and gone and I was wondering whether I should have stayed at the Queen’s Head. Finally a whole gang of people turned up carrying all manner of promotions type stuff (honestly, it felt like an army) and went and set up in the bar area. We were all told the venue was not open yet.

I looked at my watch and decided that if I didn’t get in by 8:30, I was going back to the Queen’s Head to listen to the fairy music. At 8:25, the doors opened and we started going in at last. This was incredibly annoying. If they want the show to start at 8:30, they should have it start at 8:30 and not advertise it as starting at 8pm. Call me picky but I am not really that keen on sitting around doing nothing when I could have easily stayed in the pub and had another beer. Anyway, I went in and took a seat near the front of the stage.

The room is a nice space. It seats about 100 and has round tables each with four chairs. There is also a bar selling beer (and all the other things you normally get in a bar). At first, this all seems very civilised and comfortable. Then, having sat down for about 15 minutes, you realise the chairs are ridiculously uncomfortable and start to wonder how you’re going to manage to sit through a band set. They are those silly wooden moulded things with slippy backs and seats – all design, little function, no concessions to comfort at all.

I sat with my beer and moved a lot, trying, unsuccessfully, to find a position I was happy with. In fact, I sat there till 9pm when the band decided to begin playing. Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with gigs that start at 9pm but I would rather have known that before I left home ridiculously early. I could have left at 8:30 and still had plenty of time to get a drink and find a seat. However, that is the end of my moaning.

Spikedrivers were fantastic! They weren’t hillbillies at all. They play Delta Blues (like Lee J Hooker & Muddy Waters) and almost took my mind off my aching bum. I’m fairly certain that Mirinda wouldn’t like them (too loud, too much electric guitar) but then, she’d never stay after testing the chairs.

There’s three of them in the band – Ben Tyzack on guitars (he has five on stage and uses them all), harmonica, vocals & strange kazoo thing, Constance Redgrave on bass guitar, vocals, triangle & corrugated iron vest and Maurice McElroy on percussion, drums and vocals. They’ve been together for over 11 years and you can tell. Something else you can tell is how much they love playing.

The opening number they sing acapella

As far as covers are concerned, highlights for me were their versions of That’s Alright (a song I only know from The Faces version of the 70s) and Little Red Rooster. But the best stuff was their own. The chicken song that drummer Maurice introduced so well (and wrote) was brilliant. Actually, chickens seemed to crop up a lot during the show.

Explaining the chicken song

So, all in all, a wonderful end to the night although I didn’t get home till 11:30 and had to stay up with the poodles for a bit before, finally, getting to sleep.

If you’d like to read more about them and listen to one of their tracks, there site is here.

Today was mostly spent…in the house. Apart from my usual shop and the walk in the park for the poodles, that is. I spent a little longer in Starbucks because I was more than a little engrossed in my new book.

I’m presently reading a book called The Drinker by Hans Fallander. I heard about him while listening to Radio 4. He has an amazing style and is very readable. It’s the first fiction I’ve read for a long time and I’m enjoying it thoroughly.

It’s quite amazing that he managed to write anything, let alone something readable. You see, he was a womanising, drunken, drug taking lunatic. Even so, he is regarded as the greatest German novelist from between the wars.

He grew up in a loveless home with a strict disciplinarian for a father and a mother who always demurred to him. Poor Hans (his real name was Rudolf Ditzen) had a sad and lonely childhood and, in high school, went as far as agreeing a suicide pact with a mate. They agreed to shoot each other but Hans survived and was institutionalised. He was cleared of murder for reasons of insanity. This was not a good start in life.

He managed to come to terms with life by working on a farm – a simple, hardworking life that eased his mind and gave him a sense of belonging. But then WWI came along and he served in an administrative post in supplies. At the end of the war, he had no job (agriculture was failing in Germany) and a morphine addiction. He wandered from job to job but never settled down.

He spent a few more times in prison (for stealing to feed his habits, having started down the road to alcoholism as well) but then met a woman who agreed to marry him. He managed to settle down and was working as a journalist when a publisher made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. He would pay him twice as much as the newspaper he worked for to just sit and write whatever he wanted. The results of this was a world famous novel called Little Man, What now?

This book made him a fortune and he started writing furiously, churning out heaps of books. Between each of them he started drinking and taking drugs again as a sort of break from the frenetic activity. Eventually this led him back to various mental asylums and prisons.

Then Goebbels wanted him to write a propaganda novel for the Nazis. He refused and his work was subsequently banned in Germany and he was blacklisted. He spent time in a Nazi mental asylum and lost his wife and family. During his time in this asylum, he wrote The Drinker.

Finally released, he fell in with the Soviets and started drinking with the ones that occupied the town of Feldberg. They made him the mayor and they all partied very hard. He was once more institutionalised but for the last time. He died, alone in 1947.

He was clearly incredibly messed up but, boy could he write! If The Drinker is anything to go by, he was an amazing talent. And I’m pretty sure I’ll want to read more of his work after this one.

I did manage to tear myself away from the book in order to do some shopping before going home and fixing a few things and reorganising the laundry – you can now see the sink that’s in there! I’d forgotten.

New, tidy, accessible laundry sink

Packing boxes in order to dump them at the storage facility is fantastic for clearing space!

We won at West Ham and then Carlisle came to visit us and we beat them. Tonight it was Rochdale. Instead of Sonam and Miquel, tonight we had birthday boy (tomorrow) James with us.

Given the previous two games of the Carling Cup, the crowd was very big. Queues stretching down the street as fans sensed a famous victory. Aldershot has never progressed to the 4th round of anything before so it would be one to savour. It also guarantees first dibs on tickets to the next round if you hang on to your ticket.

From the beginning we dominated them, sending shot after shot at their goal. We had everything except the one thing we needed: a goal. 3,300+ fans cheered the Shots on but it just wasn’t happening and then, with one minute to go in the first half, a mistake by one of our players put Rochdale through. With some deadly accurate passing, they moved down to the box and scored. It was heartbreaking.

Half-time was spent wondering, hope having taken a bit of a back seat. Although we dominated, they had looked very dangerous on the break. We had come from behind before; could we do it again? During the half-time team talk, manager Dean Holdsworth said “Have you got the ability to play the best 45 minutes of your lives, to write history for the football club?.” and then sent them back out to a rapturous and screaming crowd of supporters.

Rochdale kicked off and suddenly we had possession. We ran the ball down to the goal, players scrambling in the box. The ball went high and, in the middle of the crowd, Aldershot striker Michael Rankine flew into a bit of acrobatics and sent the ball into the back of the net.

He ran down to the corner flag and tried a back flip, landing on his back on the grass. The rest of the Aldershot team piled on top of him. The crowd was going insane – it was Upton Park all over again. The joy was immense, high fives and cheers were rampant.

The rest of the game was heart stoppingly exciting. Rochdale wanted the win as much as we did and they tried to beat through our defence but we managed to hold them back. There were a few scares but our back line held firm. When not defending, our attacks were full on, each looking promising only to end in nothing.

And then, with 12 minutes to go, another mad scramble in the box, the ball ricocheting in and out and Danny Hylton raised his boot and fired a wonderful volley into the back of the net. We were standing in the perfect position to watch the strike and flight of the ball. Nicktor claims he knew it was in before Danny touched it. It was a truly wonderful goal.

Shortly after the goal, we had another very good chance to make it 3-1 but it didn’t go in. Meanwhile Rochdale started attacking in earnest, pushing us back. It was desperation football. Had we been sitting down, we’d have been on the edge of our seats. What am I saying? If we’d been sitting, we’d have been standing up by now. Victory was so close.

The fourth official finally raised the board indicating there was an extra three minutes to play. We were counting the seconds as Rochdale continued fighting, cheering each time we regained possession and took the ball up the other end.

To give them their due, Rochdale didn’t stop playing. They looked like they could get the draw if the game went on much longer. Even tired legs couldn’t stop them as players fell over after kicking the ball too hard.

It was a terrifying three minutes but then, finally, the whistle blew. Aldershot had won. The crowd went crazy. It was unbelievable. It was historic. It was magnificent. This is what football is all about.

And so, Aldershot, for the first time in their history are in the fourth round. The guy on the radio as we drove home read out some of the teams for the last 16: “Arsenal, Man Utd, Stoke, Newcastle and Aldershot.” Unbelievable indeed.