Weeknotes 084: One is a sticker and one is a tooth
I wrote last week’s vibe check while The Chef slept and Piglet bounced on her bed singing every song in her repertoire. It was after 10 pm at this point. It’s time. We’re going to drop the nap.
Not that the late night did her much harm. She spent the morning carting a stick—nay, a log—around forest school before visiting her hero for princess dress-up. Admittedly, she crashed on the journey home. She walked into the house, pink and wobbly, with visible cheek stains and turned to The Chef to apologise and say, “Sorry about crying, I felt sad because I couldn’t help with the Metro card.”
Chugging through deployment at work gives me some mental downtime while I cook up relevant examples for every team. They get a useful classroom training and outsourced data entry. I get to test all the flows. And it’s going to take the time it takes with my boss is happy for me to do it. Wins all round. It’s sound-tracked it to a tune discovered by algorithm.
As Covid recedes further, the travel budget is back. I don’t want to miss out and I’ve bought tickets for UX London. It’s brimming with speakers that I follow on RSS and I already own books by four of them. With a sense of pregret, I’ve booked my bike on to the train to get about London. I hope it goes better than Sarah Berry’s experience.
Should we buy shares in a wind farm. The risk to reward feels right?
Related to grids, after an afternoon back on it, my friend is back off. So it was time to cosplay 1996 and take the metro south of the river to knock on his door unannounced for a pub quiz. I’ve got the landline this time to make the next check-in before Laura Veirs easier. Albeit in a still very 1996 way.
After nearly two weeks collecting more dust than usual, the car left the drive. Disappointing, but we’re not cycling uphill into a 40 mph headwind.
We’ve let nursery know about the end of naps. They’re amenable. Piglet looked beyond exhausted when we collected her.
I’ve never had a better entertainment-to-effort ratio than Piglet bringing a feather home, dropping it down the stairwell and running to get it back. 20 minutes of the easiest non-TV parenting I’ve done.
The Chef is catching up with buddies in the deep South1. We fitted in a Slice Wars at Wylam beforehand, but the queues have nixed out future attendance unless we can drag friends along. An afternoon spent apart and stomachs not full enough for the effort.
After getting Piglet to bed, I finished the football, followed by I may Destroy You. The lazy cricket review is to compare it to Fleabag. And it’s at least as good. I don’t watch much TV, but I’ve got a high hit-rate with the BBC. Fleabag, Wolf Hall and this are all excellent and unqualified recommendations.
Flying solo, I took Piglet to her favourite place on the planet—the top floor of Fenwicks. In a leaf out of her mam’s book, she settled on the most expensive cuddly toy in the shop. She didn’t get it.
We left to go to Broad Chare for Sunday dinner. Eventually. Worth the wait. Piglet fell asleep during her meal, much to everyone’s delight bar hers. It leaves us one restaurant to complete the Michelin Guide for Newcastle.