Here I am at the in-laws’ for a bit. It’s the school summer vacation so Joe can stay up until late. Tearing him away from the TV or the DS is a good plan, teaching him the rudiments of cooking, with his gran Carol, an even better one. He can, at least, wield a Worcester sauce bottle with aplomb, as this proves.
Well, there went the first six months of 2012. So far we’ve had four nice weeks of weather (two at the end of March and two at the end of May) and the rest has been dreadful. The nostalgia freaks would have us believe that all children spent their youth frolicking in hayfields at this time of year but it’s hard to engage with that reality at the moment, when it’s raining most of the time. So here’s Joe doing long multiplication. He’s getting kinda good at it.
After the moody soft-focus shot of one member of my immediate family yesterday, another today, of the other member. If you’re in Hebden Bridge, do try the home-made jams from this place (‘Lovegrows’). Yum yum.
The non-democratic British government, and the private capitalists they get to do their dirty work with public services, are so inept they can’t even do the weather right. Last week we were all told that the country currently resides in a state of drought. Since then it’s hardly stopped raining.
It’s not a ‘drought’, anyway. What we are being told is that the private water companies have inefficient water capture systems and a lack of any real conservation strategy. But that’s an undesirable message as far as they’re concerned, and one easy to spin into ‘It’s the Weather. Honest guv. It’s out of our hands.’ No it isn’t. If the government just gave everyone a water butt for free we could sort out a lot of the ‘problems’ by tomorrow morning.
There is a very good judo club in Hebden Bridge – good enough to have produced members of the junior Great Britain team. Joe – that’s him to the right – is not at that standard yet, and probably never will be (though of course, who knows). But I am glad he does this because it’s the one main physical exercise he gets and also I think it’s good for mental discipline. Today he was going through the grading process and is now, I am proud to report, a yellow belt. Which is more than his old man has ever managed in 42.66 years on this planet.
Good Friday, and the 7th football match to feature on this blog since I began on 26/8/11. And of all the 7, this one was the worst. From Joe’s mood here you can tell the match hasn’t kicked off yet. (Result: Burnley 1, Brighton 0. Even completists might be bored by the information that the other six matches on here have ended Morecambe 2-3 Bristol Rovers, Brighton 2-0 Barnsley, Morecambe 1-2 Accrington Stanley, Leeds 1-2 Brighton [Yes!!], Liverpool 6-1 Brighton [er… not so good], Brighton 2-0 Portsmouth.)
Glorious day today, as warm as anywhere I’ve been since last August. Most of the population was out today enjoying it, whether in town, the woods, wherever. I took lots of good photos and the choice was a hard one today, but I picked this just because it’s different, and you’ve seen a lot of photos of town and woods before. Isn’t this beautiful? Like I said with the moss the other day, how much detail there sometimes is when you look closely enough. (Note that you can just see the lens of the camera reflected, almost centrally, in his pupil.)
Clare has been semi-bereaved lately by the slow death of her little netbook. It’s visible in the background, neglected and dying, because its shiny new replacement arrived today, and everyone at home was much happier. Kind of like when the puppy comes back from the vet’s.
As 200 days have now passed on this blog I have updated the Best of the Rest page with some more photos that didn’t quite make the ‘one a day’ cut.
It’s Joe’s birthday this weekend. For the first part of his treat, went into Manchester to see Oliver!, courtesy of my sister. But we had pictures from the theatre last weekend, so let’s vary the scenery. I like Albert Square, it’s about the only part of Manchester which is picturesque, at least, on the few days a year when there’s not a bunch of tents, market stalls, traffic cones or something else covering the cobbles.
I could say that we were here, with Joe, to see Rigoletto or something equally cultural but actually it was Spamalot, the Monty Python musical. More fun than an actual opera, anyway. I am very happy Joe likes Monty Python: it shows that the sense-of-humour genes have been passed on.
Being 42 