Last Saturday was windy and overcast but work went ahead on the track with the enhanced team at the ready. In addition to Dave, Mark, Big Al's younger daughter, Punch, Gerald, Mick Hunt and myself we welcomed back our Ern, Ernie Poole, who had just returned from the land of Aus after watching the Australian Championships with his wife and a couple of hundred other British speedway fans.

It must have been something of a contrast - temperatures in the 30's and full sun replaced by temperatures approaching 8 degrees and a wind speed of 30mph!

Our task, given to us by our "beloved" leader, was to get as much of the air fence back up in place on turns 1 and 2 as possible. While Punch and Gerald concentrated on the track, the fence team set about their business.

We worked well as a team - while I drove the tractor with an exceptionally brave (or foolhardy) Mick Hunt clinging on for dear life and our new low loader trailer on the back, Ernie, Dave and Mark set about laying out the air panels and joining them together.

Our aim was to get 10 panels out, starting from the exit of turn 2 and working back towards turn 1. In actual fact we got all 22 panels necessary out on track and inflated before we ventured back for a warming cup of coffee.

Those who have read the blog for a long time will know that you can sit anywhere in number 96 (our rest room) providing that you don't sit in the seats traditionally allocated to Gerald and Punch. But while the cat's away ... and so it was that I found a slightly nervous Mick Hunt and Dave Whiting occupying those two hallowed seats, Dave even having the temerity to drink from Punch's coffee cup.

Back on track we held a short planning meeting before Ernie demonstrated his new ideas for team bonding this year with a traumatised Mick. "Put him down Ern; you don't know where he's been!"

With our best, and only reliable air pump, we inflated the panels, attached the bottom clips to the safety fence and then stood back and admired out handy work - for the first time in living memory the air fence actually went up evenly and sat up straight - remarkable. Job done.

But the wind was getting up and we decided to quit while we were ahead - turns 3 and 4 could wait.

But the weather was about to change for the worse. By Thursday we were in for a real soaking and a howling, biting wind. Winter has arrived at Blunsdon.

I arrived at just after 9am to find Punch and Gerald tyre packing as if their lives depended on it. The rain hadn't arrived yet but the clouds were looming away over the back of the pits. It was vital that the surface be packed as hard as possible, especially since so much new shale had been put down in the last week. A hard surface enables the rain to run straight off and not rut the surface.

As can be seen, when it did start to hammer down the water on the track was even and running towards the white line and the drains in just the way we wanted it to do.

With the wind now picking up, and the electronic scoreboard groaning in the gale, Mick Hunt, Roy Hicks and I set to tidying up the pits as best we could. My handiwork in removing what was left of the plasterboard ceiling in the reserve away pits had to be tidied up.

It was as I swept up a pile of water sodden sand that Roy turned around and uttered that quintessentially English phrase, "It's a tad unpleasant out here." And so it was. As the rain increased and bits of old hoarding were whipped around the pits, leaving us ducking and diving for cover we decided that outside work would have to wait.

And so back to No. 96. I have a feeling that we're fast becoming fixated with house improvements. I can almost see a time when we 'll be featured on a TV programme like "Grand Designs" soon. We've not only acquired a new set of lockable lockers but we've now got three kitchen cabinets for the walls and more carpet on the way.

Right on time, Karen (known to all and sundry as "Flo") arrived, this week with hot non alcoholic mulled wine and a box of hot scones liberally laced with butter and jam.

I'm not sure that she was convinced of our skills as kitchen fitters, but she couldn't fault the sheer enthusiasm with which improvements were carried out. The tele still can't pick up a decent picture but the video recorder works a treat - we watched part of the 2002 Polish GP, a meeting where God (Rune Holta) did particularly well, I might add!

Karen disappeared before Roy and I set about cremating 6 beautiful hand made beef burgers on the Bar B Que. While we watched the burgers Punch and Gerald set to putting up batons for the cabinets. Punch's somewhat overzealous use of a long drill bit and a powerful electric drill soon "punched" holes straight through the wall and into the riders' tea room next door.

With eyes still smarting from smoke, I investigated what was going on out on the track. Brian Cox was painting in the changing rooms and eschewed the chance of partaking of a lump of charcoal with us - at least no one can complain about undercooked meat on my bar b que!

Back at number 96 the cabinets were being fixed to the wall. In the end it took three of us to hang the blasted things, while Roy giggled and laughed at our efforts.

While Punch guided the clasps into place and Gerald tightened them, I was left holding the cabinets. Talk about "Do you know the cabinet's on my head? No, son; you sing it and I'll play it!"