Bits and pieces

Dot writes: driving the children to Fun Fitness this morning, I passed a big sign that said “Ever drink? Never drive!” And I thought: right, so licenses from now on will only be issued to teetotallers. I wish they’d think about this stuff before blazoning it in big letters over the M50.

House news: we are still waiting for our loan pack, because before we get our loan pack we have to have life insurance, and the insurers wanted reports from our GPs. I contacted the GP’s surgery and was told our doctor was away but the locum would do it. I hope s/he did (even though it’s a bit ridiculous as s/he has never met either of us): there are going to be more mortgage rate rises in July (Ulster Bank have just announced theirs) and once more time feels short. We had our original offer on the house accepted in March and we haven’t even signed a contract yet.

I am loving my bike, rather to my surprise. I don’t cycle every day – this week, for instance, there have been very strong winds and I haven’t fancied it most mornings – but I think it is already making me feel that little bit fitter. And instead of finding it an ordeal of traffic-dodging I am enjoying the speed and freedom of my little trips to slightly more distant DART stations. My feelings may change when we move as I may have to start navigating busier roads; but for the moment it is a small but reliable pleasure. It even makes my commute a bit quicker.

Frank has officially started to like television. “Beebies! Beebies!” he exclaims. He is watching Waybuloo right now, which would be the most annoying children’s programme of all time had it not the saving grace of being fairly quiet. Hugh on the other hand announced this morning that “CBeebies is not telly.” Bob the Builder is telly, apparently, and so is Kung Foo Panda, which is what he wanted to watch. I think he feels that we fob him off with the children’s channel – especially in the evening, when we like it because it stops at 7pm. Hugh has a bewildering habit of flatly denying what we tell him when he has decided for whatever reason that he doesn’t like it. “I have to drive because I’m the adult.” “No you’re not.” “Yes I am! Look, I have a driving license and everything.” “No you’re not! You’re not an adult. That’s silly.” “But – but – [splutter].” Maybe it’s because I sometimes have a spot of Ken’s homebrew.

Talking of drink, I was doing some reckoning, and I think the last time I had a hangover was probably early 2007. Possibly 2006. It depends how ill you have to feel before it counts; but it’s been a while. Ken, on the other hand, went out with his friend Niall last night, and is unavailable for Dad duties today; which is why we went to Fun Fitness.


3 thoughts on “Bits and pieces

  1. Katimum

    I’ve always thought these ‘nil alcohol’ laws slightly ridiculous – at what point does any given intake of alcohol completely clear the system and how is an individual to know? Does eating fresh baked bread infringe the ban? Can a mincepie on Christmas afternoon put you at risk on Boxing Day morning?

    I trust Andrew’s alcohol level has now cleared his system and he is fully functioning again for Paternal Duties – and does his son consider he is adult enough to drive? Are we allowed to admit he is a son? Or do we have to keep that dark in case we stereotype him/her?
    Poor little Storm – he is stuck with his sex which ever he is so might as well get used to it. Even ‘sexual realignment’ would happen much later in life and I always have a suspicion that it is part of a general culture of ‘if I don’t like a fact I have the right to change it.’ Difficult if you want the world to be flat or you want to be the adult rather than your Mummy.

    1. Dot

      Storm? Who? Not sure what you’re talking about, which probably means it has been on the front page of all the newspapers:)

      1. Dot

        OK, I googled it, and realised I had heard about it though I don’t remember where. My position and prejudices are sufficiently indicated by saying I have no sympathy for anyone who could call their first child Jazz.

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