Paul Davidson
Weeknotes 018: So many types of spoons.
I’m writing these after another double nana nap weekend. Not gonna lie, feeling pretty chill right now. The closest we’ve gotten to doing stuff was playing some Ticket to Ride on Saturday evening. Living the lockdown high-life.
That said, we are shovelling prosecco and cheesecake into our face after The Chef cooked up an awesome Kitchen God Festival feast. Definitely helping with the chill.
Despite Grandad’s sterling efforts, the roof is still leaking. We’ve reached the stage where we’ve needed to get a man in. He was due this weekend, but something about gale force winds and horizontal snow meant he took a pass.
Just one of the adult jobs this week. Our car has a safety recall on it and is off to the mechanics on Tuesday. And we cancelled our heat pump installation. That was bittersweet. I lost my smugness for getting to the front of the queue by following the council RSS, but they would only install the pump in the garden and not over the garage. And we weren’t to be misled by free.
Clarting on with three bits of admin in the same week, would normally be a chew. But I think spending at least 5 hours a day on video-calls has inured me to admin.
Getting to cuddle a rainbow in a den helps. It was everything I’d hoped parenting would be. Piglet must have enjoyed it too. because she’s relented from her recent poor form and slept through in 3 of the last 4 nights.
She’s spent the week doing a corking Don Logan impression and added some colourful mispronunciations to layer on the effect. “Want climb”, “one car” and “blue frog” do not sound nice. She’s also taken to expressing displeasure by asking why and then declaring, “naughty Daddy.” All in all, she’s an extremely cute tiny tyrant.
On the topic despots, it’s only been 2 weeks since the tangerine gibbon was evicted. It’s felt refreshingly longer. That Amanda Gorman speech is still, just.
7 February 2021