Paul Davidson
Weeknotes 073: He’s the cooking man
Lads, the heating’s off.
The tantrums have continued. They arrive with the suddenness and fury of a summer storm. And depart with the same speed. By this point we can spot the signs and head most of them off. It’s tiring though. And the threat of rain remains.
Fortunately, our visitor was still here and The Chef glided off on Monday for a spa day to recharge. The masseuse offered the regular commentary on the state of her knots. I filled the day with admin and felt better for it being done than in the doing.
We setup the Disney+ anniversary present for my folks this week. In only one visit and one follow up phone call. They love it. As will we, now that I know their password.
Speaking of grandparents, this piece by Ian Martin on being a Grandpa is—to use the trite, clichéd and accurate adjective—lovely. Poignant without sentimentality. A style I’m striving for.
T’other grandparents brought freshly harvested wild garlic with them. It’s already the delightful and too-short early spring. The evening sunlight after nursery means we can run, jacket-less, around the turning circle while we wait for The Chef to finish faffing her way to the end of the workday. Piglet reciting the Gruffalo from start to end while she spirals.
I’d left my laptop at work for the first time in 2 years, forgetting The Chef had Friday off and needed the car. As good an excuse as any to repair my double puncture. The cycle in was surprisingly pleasant. I’m still on my Noname binge and when I got into the office, I was the only one in my section. As solo as the home office, but with a better chair.
Playing with Piglet and playdoh is a high-wire adventure. Nothing lasts more than a minute. We made a fruit bowl together when she stopped, smooshed it and declared, “It’s a plate now Daddy.” The playdoh itself is quality though. Much better than the dried grit I remember from when I were a lad and all this was fields.
I’ve spent the week addicted to nonograms. Not as viscerally satisfying as Picross 3D on Nintendo DS, but still more seductive of my attention than is comfortable.
We managed two trips out to the North of the Tyne festival. Top family fun. Piglet was asking after the bonny lights all week. As we left she was given a pinwheel and it became the greatest day of her life.
She’d also been asking after dried mangoes all week. A stock shortage led us to buy dried blueberries instead. Strong recommend.
We coupled both festival trips with 肉夹馍 (Xi’an burgers). First in a rated, but Western-catered restaurant. Then in a slightly shonky cafe where we had the best noodles in Newcastle by some distance. It’s been open for three years and we’ve only just found it. Covid and a child don’t lend themselves to culinary exploration.
The balance of weeknotes is trying to avoid missing moments to write down snippets. You’ll have to trust me when I say Piglet said something roaringly funny midweek and I can’t remember what. It was good though. Not that we can call her good.
13 March 2022