Paul Davidson
Weeknotes 075: I’m going to use the rowing spoon
We’re on holiday. Our first fortnight away since maternity leave. It was less of a Herculean effort this time, but still ended with a dozen crucial tasks on Friday and both of us on our work laptops in the living room at 10 pm.
Worthwhile for the tranquil Saturday waking without whirring on unfinished jobs.
Piglet sailed off to Lǎolao and Lǎoyé’s to sing Row, Row, Row your Boat on Morpeth lake while we went to a sunny wedding. A relatively small ones where we only knew the happy couple, but excellent craic from all the guests.
Part of a chain of sunny adventures for Piglet this week, which started with throwing sand at people’s bums on a beach trip before having a restaurant meltdown in the evening. Afterwards, she turned to tell me, “I was hangry daddy. I’m not hangry now.” She even let The Chef leave her before she fell asleep that night. All in a day’s growing up.
Part of this growing up includes eating playdoh? And running. Everything is running these days. It’s tiring.
Another part is murdering me. For reasons I forget, Piglet’s books double-up as pretend drinks for her dolls. I was given what I thought was an “apple juice” to drink, only to get a withering, “That’s a book daddy. You can’t drink books.” I dead.
The final part was getting accepted to preschool.
One tiny lockdown benefit is having a mask in my pocket when it’s time to decant white pepper.
Wednesday felt like the little summer before inevitable Easter sleet. I got to procrastinate in the garden at lunch. Piglet went to the zoo. The Chef got to go to a conference call.
Capturing the ephemeral is even harder with this crappy AI predictive keyboard. Reviewing is frequently nonsense. Recommendations for working Android keyboards are welcome.
Hangover and toddler free on Sunday, we could happily pack. Something we’ll have to arrange for future holidays. There was time to seed the lawn and head round the houses to drop off Mother’s Day flowers, eat wild garlic dumplings and watch Piglet ride her bike with stabilisers. Steal my hour? We’ll fill it anyway. Right up to the point I need a cheeky nap because work and caffeine are out of my system and my body realises it’s shattered. The Chef’s turn to rest tonight. We’re aiming to be on the road before 10 am. Wish us luck.
27 March 2022