Paul Davidson
Weeknotes 148: This dog’s ready for Zog
More Mondays should start at half ten. I’d taken the day off for my birthday and my first present was a lie-in. When I woke the house was empty (they’d gone for pastries), so I made a pot of coffee and stuck on The Bear1.
We spent the afternoon on the beach. I’d re-sited the tent three times, searching for a good spot for the Wee Free Man to nap without becoming a sand dune, and we were debating taking it down when the black clouds started rolling over the hills. We spent 10 of the most British minutes sat as a family, happily sheltering in it, while the rain teemed down. Gone as quickly as it arrived, we were treated to the resplendent golden light that soaks the coast after a shower and a freshly emptied beach to roar around on. Obligatory fish and chips for tea. Highlight of the day was saved till the end; a solo rendition of Happy Birthday by a contented Piglet as we settled in for bedtime stories. I’ve had worse days.
I’m going to blame Piglet—it was equally likely to be us—for the unintentional sowing of Jerusalem Artichoke. Reading up on it, we can harvest them in the winter and still get flowers next summer as long as I leave a couple of tubers in the ground. #AccidentalAllotment
The consensus is to hate on them, but eScooter hire fills in a missing bit of public transport for me. The journey to the metro is 8 minutes instead of 30, which means 20 extra minutes in bed for The Chef before a work day. Bit of Curse of Lono and job’s a good un.
Since hearing her first cousin once removed2 on Spotify, Piglet’s new obsession is to record songs into our phones. The two main themes are [Mythical Creature]+Vision or Pyschedelic+[Mumbling].
Lǎolao took her for a sleepout midweek and I joined The Chef for a cheeky park lunch in the sun3. The Wee Free Man drinking in the scenery from his propped up position in the pram. Later, he experienced his first bath without his sister helping to clean his head and trialled lying down in the water. As an aside, seeing his heartbeat in his Fontanelle remains unnerving. An unexpected and visceral sign of life. We found a glass spelk in his foot during drying and realised he must be as nails as his sister because it hadn’t bothered him at any point before I started fumbling about with tweezers. He’s got a cracking habit of laughing in his sleep these days which may be even more adorable than his awake chuckle.
Piglet spent the weekend caravaning with Grandma and Granddad and we took the chance to decorate the nursery and do the school uniform wash. Meep. The school WhatsApp groups4 have been put on mute for a week till they calm down. Lǎolao popped round to play with the Wee Free Man and to be disgusted by our kitchen cupboards. The Wee dude, fresh from his pram proppage, was introduced to the high chair and intentional solids.
The nursery decorating finished early and I had time to stick a wire behind a cupboard while The Chef shampooed the carpet. That was all too much rock and roll for one day, so we spent a quiet evening playing computer games (The Chef) and watching movies (me). Dune’s decent. Villeneuve does ponderous philosophising cinema beautifully.
Capped the week off by making Sunday dinner for everyone to say thank you for all the child-rearing they’re doing. Piglet proudly introducing her build-a-bear creation and had a full, ugly meltdown the first time she heard no from me. I don’t think she’s heard it once with her grandparents this week. Gone as quickly as it arrived, we were treated to her resplendent mood and story-telling. I’ve had worse weeks.