Well, it’s taken almost three weeks but I finally have my bike back. After messing around with the electronics for a while and finding nothing wrong, the mechanics simply opened up the gearbox and manually put it back into neutral. Having reassembled it and taken it for a test ride everything seemed fine so they pronounced it sorted. Let’s just hope they’re right.
I can’t even begin to describe the relief that today’s rain and lower temperatures have brought. It’s easier to sleep, easier to concentrate and easier just to be comfortable. The overcast sky means that I don’t get blinded every time I step outside, too. Bliss.
I just got back from taking Max to play in the park. While out we popped into the William Penn Leisure Centre, as is our custom, for a snack in the cafe there. I had a coffee which tasted fine but smelt like the bottom of an ashtray. Absolutely vile. Now I feel sick.
This tweet had me literally crying with laughter last night.
Roses are redde
Rhymes kan be hard
Thei are takinge the hobbits
— Chaucer Doth Tweet (@LeVostreGC) 14 February 2018
My mother, I know, would have loved it too.
I came upstairs for a few minutes so that I could spend a little time alone. So, naturally, Max followed me.
It’s Christmas Day today and, for some unfathomable reason, I agreed with work that I’d keep my laptop with me today, “just in case.” It’s therefore absolutely guaranteed that something horrible will go wrong and need my immediate attention.
On a happier note, merry Christmas, everybody!
Last night there was a small moth in the house, which had alighted on the wall in the hall. On his way up to bed I showed it to Max, who took one look at it and declared, “I don’t like moths.”
So Juliet and I explained a bit about what moths are and how pretty their wings can be (“a bit like a small butterfly,” we said, which Max really latched on to). I touched it gently to make it move and flutter its wings. All this clearly had the desired effect, because Max then turned and said, “I like moths.”
Gosh, at this rate I might become a half decent parent.
This morning Max was eating a bowl of Coco Pops and had chocolate stains all around his mouth and on his hands, in the usual manner of small children. He asked me for a sweet and I told him he could have one if he’d let me wipe him clean. He agreed and by the time I’d fetched the sweets so he could choose one he’d found the wet wipes, got one out and done a pretty reasonable job of cleaning himself up.
I know it may not sound like much to some people but I felt like such a proud father. Every little step he takes as he grows up has the same effect on me. Now, if we can just crack potty training…
I’m staying at my in-laws’ place for a few days and I couldn’t help but notice that the airing cupboard in the spare room has a handle on the inside of the door. Maybe it used to be a room for a goblin.