Mental rambles

My youngest daughter was practically bouncing as we walked the short distance to the piano teacher’s house.
We were greeted at the door and escorted into the music room.
Looking tiny, she sat down at the enormous grand piano.
A piano that took up the entire space.
The lesson was simple.
Timing, rolls and scales.
My little girl grinned throughout the entire half an hour. Her eyes as big as I’ve ever seen them.
I was allowed to stay and watch and truly enjoyed the end of the lesson where they actually played ‘Fur Elise’ together.
My little girl wasn’t the only one bouncing on the walk home.

My entire family is going away in about a month for a foreign holiday.
The only problem is that it’ll be the first time that our three-year-old dog can’t come with us.
My wife’s mother and brother are unable/incapable of looking after her but I’m loath to put her into a kennel.
A local woman was recommended to me and I arranged to meet her very early on Saturday morning at the rugby club.
She turned up with four dogs but I was surprised to see her limping while we walked.
I was privately concerned but she managed an hours walk without complaint.
I asked her what had happened to her knee and she simply gestured to the dogs.
Apparently a large dog had charged into her, smashing her knee and breaking her other foot.
I was quite impressed with the surgeons who’d somehow managed to replace her entire knee joint while retaining her original kneecap.
More importantly, she was a woman who obviously loved dogs and had chosen her job to suit her nature.
I’ll walk with her a few more times to let my dog get to know her, but as far as I’m concerned, the jobs hers.

I made my eldest daughter learn the piano. She wasn’t that interested but I made the classic mistake of forcing my child to do what I regretted not doing.
My youngest daughter however really wanted to learn.
I suppose it’s because there is a (really dodgy) piano in the house already.
She taught herself a few tunes and begged me to take her to lessons.
I told her that she could once she reached six.
She reached that milestone ten months ago.
I had a moment on Sunday afternoon where everyone was feeling ill and I could feel time slipping away from us.
Taking my daughter by the hand I walked her to a local piano teachers house.
She starts on Friday.

I’m not a particularly big man. 6ft tall and just over 12st but I can’t stand seeing food wasted.
I’ll hoover up any leftovers on the children’s plates and eat any food that is just past its ‘sell-by-date’.
This morning I noticed two packs of sandwich ham and a family pack of Italian salami.
They had both expired the previous day.
My wife is a vegetarian and won’t feed anything past the package date to my children, so I shared what felt like half a pound of processed meat with my dog for breakfast.
My dog was extremely happy but I feel a bit sluggish this morning.

My wife is ill, as are my youngest two children.
My six-year-old daughter pulled the bedcovers over her head and my five-year-old boy didn’t want to go to school.
Considering my constant truanting as a boy, my attitude towards them missing school may seem unfair, but I made the boy go to school this morning.
“Are you really ill?” I asked.
Head down and eyes averted he mumbled back, “A bit.”
“Don’t worry then. I’ll drive you to school and I’ll ask your teacher to call home if you do start to feel worse.”
“How will Mummy come if she’s sick?”
“Mummy will always come for you no matter what.”
After dropping him, I got home to my daughter bouncing on the sofa!
It’s funny how a day off school can make you feel instantly better.

My two smallest children went back to gymnastics after the summer break.
My boy does 10am – 11am; my daughter does 12 noon –1pm.
It’s annoying that it takes up my entire Saturday morning but the children really enjoy it.
More importantly, it keeps them away from the TV.

All three of my children go to amazing schools. My only regret is that they all go to different ones and none of them are an easy walk.
My eldest walks about a mile to her coach stop. My wife drives my boy and I take my six-year-old girl on the bus.
This seems to work fine, but on Wednesday I decided to walk and let my daughter take her scooter.
Although it’s a long way for a small child, it’s mostly downhill and over half of the journey is relatively safe and away from the main roads. Only one section gave me concern.
Door to door, it took us about 45 minutes.
My daughter didn’t seem to worry though. In fact she loved it.

My five-year-old son started year 1 this week.
He looked very smart in his new school uniform.
Grey trousers, grey shirt, grey socks, black shoes, black blazer and…
a pink tie!
Weird choice for a boys school.
Frankly I’d prefer him in jeans and trainers.

At 10am on Sunday morning, I decide that we should do something as a family.
‘What?’ asks my wife.
‘Why don’t we all go bowling?’ I say.
I phone up the nearest bowling alley and book a lane for 11am.
We all rush to get ready and are out the door by 10.30am.
Even my teenage daughter!
We get there in time and everyone looks natty in their bowling shoes.
Everyone gets a ball for themselves while I go off to organise a pitcher of coke and bowls of chips for everyone.
Interestingly, our personalities where made obvious by our bowling techniques.
My wife and eldest daughter both tried their hardest to win.
My youngest daughter shrugged off any attempt to help her and did it her way.
My little boy insisted on using the ‘ball roller’. This is a device for making bowling easier. (He’s no fool.)
And I tried very hard to let my two youngest children beat me. (This was very difficult as the bowling lanes had the child rails up to prevent gutter balls.)
My eldest daughter won followed closely by my wife. My little ones came equal third and I came last.

Honest!

I went for a run in the fields behnd my house this morning.
I say ‘run’ but it was a staggered affair.
I ran the first quarter and staggered the rest.

I noticed that I now seem to be working on another spare tire.
I could live with one but two's ridiculous.
So I've given up white bread and started to exercise.

I met a few old friends yesterday. One couldn’t make it and one had to leave early.
The remaining four of us enjoyed several beers in a pub before strolling down to China town for some food.
Ignoring all peril, we let the waiter choose for us.
The food was lovely but expensive.
We also had a few more beers.
Then we went to an ‘Urban golf’ centre.
These are effectively a combination of Golf, a computer game, a squash court and a swanky bar.
More beers followed by the golf.
Two of our group knew how to play; two of us didn’t.
I was soundly beaten but I was pleased that I was even able to hit the ball.
The other novice entertained us all with his ability to swish madly and repeatedly. Several times he was driven to picking up the ball and throwing it at the canvas screen.
I left my friends at around 11pm when they went on looking for a pub or bar still open.
Home by midnight and wife not too disapproving.

The first thing I do in the morning is make my wife a coffee and myself a tea.
After making sure she’s awake to rouse the children, I take my tea with me while I walk the dog.
(My back garden leads directly into the fields behind my house.)
The tea usually lasts me about a third of the way around the fields but rather than carry the empty cup with me, I tend to hang it on a branch of a tree that I’ll pass on the way back.
Trouble is, I often forget to collect it.
The best/worst it’s been has resulted in seven mismatched mugs dangling from the branches of this particular, peculiar looking tree.
You’d think that my wife would notice the missing crockery, but we’ve got more mugs than cupboard space.
What really surprises me is that no-one steals them.

Driving back from dropping my eldest to her school this morning, I heard the DJ on the radio announce that today (09/09/09) the world was prophesised to end at 9 minutes past 9am.
Although I didn’t really believe it, when I got home I told my wife that I loved her. I hugged my youngest two children and told them that they were more important than the world to me and then I called my parents.
It was just a silly conversation; Just an excuse to tell them how much they mean to me.
Then I took my middle child to school.
I was back in time to sit in the kitchen with my wife and son and listen to the countdown on the radio.
The DJ played ‘The final countdown’ by the 80’s soft-metal rock band ‘Europe’ before the traditional 10… 9… 8…
I looked out of the window, to make sure that the sunny, blue sky wouldn’t suddenly darken and crack…

Nothing happened…

Obviously.

My youngest daughter entered year 2 this week.
This time last year, she clung to me and begged not to have to go.
This year she practically skipped in without a backward glance.
Is it wrong to feel sad that she’s growing up?

The alarm went off at 6.15am. I hadn’t slept very well as both my smallest children had trouble settling and spent the night in my bed. (My wife had escaped into one of theirs.)
Dressing in yesterdays clothes, I wandered downstairs to the kitchen, where I put on the kettle and fed the cats. Then I let the dog out into the garden and fed her too.
I came back into the house and made two cups of tea and a coffee. (The tea for my eldest and me; the coffee for my wife.)
After waking them both, I emptied the box of food scraps into the composter and took the dog out for her morning walk. (In the fields behind our house.)
After a brisk half an hour, I got back home.
My eldest was waiting for me to drive her to her coach stop as she had too many bags to carry. (It was her first day back to school after the Summer holiday.)
After I took her (waiting for a few minutes to chat) and made it home, I made myself another cup of tea. I drank it while going through my post and writing a few cheques for my wife.
Then I drove my middle child to school. (Again I waited with her before she went in, as I like the time I get alone with her to laugh and joke about nothing.)
When I got home from this trip, the skip that comes twice a year was again outside my neighbour’s house.
In went an old wardrobe and two broken footstools.
My wife then told me she needed a bit extra cash today so I had to walk down to the bank. My youngest doesn’t go back to school until Thursday, so I took him with me. ‘Can you get some brown bread while you’re out?’ called my wife.
Why not?
So we walk to the High street, letting my boy climb on walls and run where I know it’s safe.
He helps me in the bank and orders the bread himself. As he was so polite I buy him a chocolate cookie. He’s very proud of himself as we walk back home.
I give my wife both types of bread she was expecting and she makes me some toast accompanied by another cup of tea,
Then I trudge back upstairs to brush my teeth and change my clothes before I finally leave for work.
I walk to the station; change trains once and then walk from the station to the office.
It’s a small thing, but I always walk up the station escalators and the office stairs.
I make it in at 10.45am to be greeted by the usual disapproving looks.
Oh well.

I took two of my children to the park recently and we were throwing balls at the basketball hoop.
Despite being only six, my youngest daughter can get the ball through the hoop!
After they finished I attempted to jump and grab the hoop.
I used to do it all the time when I was showing off at school.
Could I reach it?
I couldn’t even get close to it!

I wouldn’t call 6.30pm late, but when I got up to leave I discovered I was the last one here.
Worse, my realisation was accompanied by the wailing of the office alarm!
Strangely calm, I rifled through the reception to find important contact numbers and found one of the bosses’.
He gave me the key-code but by then it was too late.
I got a call from the security company…
‘Who’s this?’ they said.
As if a burglar would answer the phone!
I explained my situation, which probably accounts for 90% of their calls and now I have to wait for their technical advice department to phone me back.
‘It shouldn’t be much more than an hour’ they said.
Oh well, no-ones fault but mine really.
I should have been paying more attention.

I took the majority of the family down to the Cotswolds for a short break.
We’ve not been for a while as my parent's cottage is undergoing some serious work.
The little ones had a great time, the dog had a mad time and my wife had a relaxing time.
We didn’t do that much, Swimming, shopping and walking in the woods, but it was brilliant.
I love that place.

My Mother doesn’t really need or want anything, so presents are always redundant.
Instead I always try to just ‘Hang-out’ with her on the day.
This year we snuck off to the cinema to see ‘GI Joe’ and eat junk food.
Surprisingly the movie wasn’t terrible.
Granted it was a two-hour-toy-advert, but it was good fun and we both laughed through it.
I always enjoy time with my Mum.

Not just my eldest daughter generally, but her result in her French GSCE. (Which she took a year early!)
Very proud.