Standing Tall

Day 136 - 07:22am, 16 May 2019

Below is a photo of one of the largest mobile cranes in the UK, which is currently situated in Leith Street. The road is due to be shut for three weeks to assemble, position and dismantle it. 

And it is certainly an impressive sight, as you can see from the fact that it dwarfs the Balmoral hotel in the background. Having not yet seen the crane in operation, however, the most impressive thing about it is that anyone should think that putting a short, covered walkway to the left of the crane is any sort of safety measure. If that crane is going down, we're all going down with it, a flimsy piece of metal is not going to protect anyone!

Fly the Flag

Day 137 - 5:18pm, 17 May 2019

When I get off the bus at the stop opposite Waverley Station, the bank has a rainbow flag draped in its front window. I wonder whether there is to be a Pride march at the weekend.

It later transpires that today is International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia and Biphobia. I know this because IKEA is selling rainbow bags - yay, I have one and it is fab! - but does so along with an explanation of the day and a positive statement regarding its views on diversity and inclusion. The proceeds are going to charity.

Barclays' offering, by contrast, looks tame. A solitary flag, new out the packet, with no explanation, no awareness-raising, just crease marks. I am torn between two scenarios. Either it is a flag sent by HQ to all branches to be placed in shop fronts rather last minute or, and I'd like this to be the case, it is a branch-initiated venture about a subject close to the heart of a member of staff, spoilt only by a lack of attention to detail.

Nine Pipers Piping

Day 135 - 09:14am, 15 May 2019

One of the first signals that summer is getting nearer is to see and/or hear the pipers at the barracks practising for the Edinburgh tattoo. Today, as we walk back from school, we both hear and then see them. 

I am of two minds as to what I think of pipe music, not just this minute, but in general. Perhaps as a result of having had to endure too many pipers mangling elevator music on Princes Street, my head says no to its brash warbling. Yet, it still needles at the heart: there is something very stirring about flecks of pipe music undulating across a landscape. When at a distance, it turns out I do like piping.

Release Your Inner Penguin

Day 134 - 10:06am, 14 May 2019

Today's course at work covered metaphor and clean language, and no, it's not what you think it is. Rather, it is a coaching technique which involves reflecting the individual's words back at them by using a series of set questions. This helps the person to deepen and flesh out their metaphor and thereby gain insight into a question or a problem, free from any influence that the coach's words might exert - i.e. without the coach muddying the waters, hence the clean language. The assumption is that the individual being coached has the answers already within them, they just have to illicit them, which this technique is designed to allow them to do.

One of the exercises involved drawing a picture to represent what we thought working at our best would look like. I drew a penguin. So I started off by suggesting that when I was working at my best, I was like a penguin swimming free in the ocean and then my colleague continued to question me using clean language. Before I knew it, my penguin was taking turns to go fishing, asking permission from the other penguins to do so, letting others go off to swim too and knowing that he (yes, I know, it surprised me that the penguin was a he too) and the others were doing so for a purpose. And that purpose was to look after the next generation. We ran out of time at this point, which I was quite thankful for, because I was beginning to wonder what I was about to reveal of myself.

Unsurprisingly, I didn't see any penguins looking after their young on the way home, but I did see Mummy and Daddy ducks leading their ducklings out on the water. It was a heartwarming sight and it made my inner penguin smile.

Green Leaves

Day 132 - 3:53pm, 12 May 2019

Bringing in the washing off the line, I notice something out of place on one of the pegs. A green caterpillar poking out of the round hole in the middle of the peg. It looks so incongruous. It is hard to imagine that it has climbed all the way there from one of the bushes, and even if it has, why has it chose that particular peg? It is all very random, particularly when I try to get it to go back onto a bush. It shows no interest in my proffered leaves and I end up gently having to nudge it onto one.

I worry for a moment that I have killed it until I see it move. While I am assuming that it has no knowledge of the Very Hungry Caterpillar, you would have thought that it would think, "mmm, horrible plastic green peg versus lovely green natural leaves. Yes, green leaf for me" But no, there is no natural intuition guiding him (her?) toward the food substance and away from certain death hanging on a washing line. 

I put the rest of the washing away and then come back outside to check on it. It is still okay. Good luck little caterpillar!

Growing Pains

Day 131 - 10:08am, 11 May 2019

A wider angle shot today in the hope of seeing some water instead of just trees. It also shows the Water of Leith Visitor Centre, which is holding its annual plant sale today. Having dropped off Little Miss at her dance class I return in the hope of having a quick look round the plant sale before picking her up. When I return, there is still a queue to get in. Worrying that I won't get into the building in time, let alone into the room with the plants, I change my mind and go for a walk instead. 

I return soon after with Little Miss in tow. There is now no queue and so we go straight in. And, almost come straight back out again. We can see why the crowds have dispersed. The room full of plants has been reduced to a mere handful. Still, we manage to get a cherry tree and a beech. We plant them in the front garden when we return home. It is going to take a while for them to grow to a size where they look like trees, but it will be fun watching them grow up, hand in hand with the kids.

Wet Through

Day 130 - 08:06am, 10 May 2019

Today is wet, the sort of weather that you feel you should be swimming through rather than walking. The water is literally running off us by the time we get to Cubs. 

There are some days when it is good to get home, strip off your wet clothes and get straight into your jammies and this is certainly one of them.

What a Difference a Night Makes

Day 129 - 07:54am, 9 May 2019

Having taken my peak flow yesterday evening, I was convinced I would be off sick today. Not so. I take my peak flow again this morning and it is back on the up, still a jump to get back to my normal reading, but not low enough to justify calling in. I know I should be pleased, but there's a little part of me that was rather looking forward to a lazy day.

My disappointment aside, it's amazing the body's ability to heal itself. All I did was close my eyes and go to sleep, it did all the rest.

A Cacophony of Green

Day 127 - 07:53am, 7 May 2019

The first sensation I am aware of this morning as I stand over the bridge is not the rushing water, but the waft of the wild garlic emanating from the island below. The floor of Craiglockhart Dell across the road has been carpeted with its white flowers and long green leaves for weeks, if not months. Yet here, seemingly overnight, it has overtaken the scrub, to add another dimension to my daily visit.

The Cutest Little Baby Face

Day 128 - 10:32am, 8 May 2019

The news story of the day is the world's first glimpse of baby Sussex, or Archie Harrison as he has been named. There's something very endearing about seeing the family unit gathered around a newborn, wrapped up in their bundle of joy, holding them as close as the blanket that they are swaddled in. 

They weren't the only new family unit out and about yesterday. Despite the miserable weather, and miserable it was, two proud swans and their nine offspring - you can only see in eight in the photo below, but I am pretty sure despite their constant weaving I counted nine - were to be seen posing for cameras on the Union canal. 

Of the two, I know which one impressed me more. Last year, eight out of the nine cygnets made it to through to adulthood. So let's hope by this time next year, all nine will be happy and healthy and ready to fly the nest.

Bound Together

Day 126 - 7:42am, 6 May 2019

https://theaspergian.com/2019/05/04/its-a-spectrum-doesnt-mean-what-you-think/

This post was inspired by C.L. Lynch’s fantastic explanation of the spectrum. Thank you for keeping your neurotypical cousins right and holding us to account. Please take the time to read her original post.

C.L. Lynch is an award-winning author and socially awkward autist living in Vancouver, B.C. with one husband, two children, several fuzzy animals, and uncountable unwashed dishes. She enjoys smashing tropes and hiding from adult responsibilities.

I hate social situations unless I am with people I know well and am about as co-ordinated as a politician appearing on Strictly. This doesn’t make me a little bit autistic.

So I try hard not to roll my eyes in disbelief when people say thinks like “he doesn’t look autistic” or “we’re all a little bit on the spectrum” because I realise they are trying to engage and show empathy. There are better ways of doing it though. You don’t have to assume someone’s identity to stand alongside them, you just have to love and accept them as they are, which you can do by listening to them and learning from them, not diminishing their disability or struggles. Little Master has taught me so much more than I have ever taught him. And I have as high hopes for him as I do for the other two, knowing that the paths that they each take may or may not be wildly different, depending on their interests and abilities over time. That’s okay, they are each unique human beings with a unique contribution to make. Our job as parents and as a society is to support them and make it possible for them to be the best version of them they were meant to be.

One of the things that stuck with me from last week was the charity’s CEO - himself blind - saying that while LGBTQ+ awareness is moving on, society’s attitude to disability is not moving at the same pace, they are still often left behind.

We won’t close the gap by diminishing the struggles of disabled people, even if we do so with the best intentions. I keep coming back to the Hawaiian concept of ‘ohana’ and with it the idea that nobody is left behind or forgotten. It’s not about blood relationships but encompasses those who are bound together by genuine compassion, support, loyalty and love for one another. That’s the sort of community I want to be part of, one which embraces people as they are, individuals, disabled or not.

Chrysalis

Day 125 - 8:05pm, 5 May 2019

I realise after my shower today that the ritual of wiping off the shower screen with the window squeegee is as satisfying and life-affirming as the shower itself. While I was in the shower, the steam has transformed the see-through screen into a steam-generated cocoon that encloses me when I am at my most vulnerable. Even should the en-suite door burst open, which it has been known to do on more than one occasion, my blushes will be spared.

Clean and refreshed, I am ready to begin the day for real, but before I do there is one last task to perform. The steady swish of the squeegee lunging down the toughened glass releases a slew of watery tears that quickly form into rivulets racing each other down to the shower-base valley below. I hastily step from the shower to the fuzzy-blue bath mat where I am within reaching distance of the safety and security of a bath-robe that has seen better days but which I am not ready to part with.

The next stage in my daily journey begins.

Nature's Confetti Kisses

Day 124 - 10:55am, 4 May 2019

No sooner does it come, then it is making plans to go. The blossom petals that a few short weeks ago brought colour to the avenues and gardens of Edinburgh are taking their leave. Many have already gone, wind-swept into magnolia puddles that are now littering the pavements. Walking home from school yesterday, Little Miss stopped to admire a tree that was manically throwing its confetti across an unseen bride and groom. Today, she hurtles along the street with such speed that she does not register the trees, let alone what has fallen from them. What a difference a day makes.

Lucky Me

Day 123 - 08:21am, 3 May 2019

Yuck!!! Anyone who says it is lucky to be half concussed by the 'smoke' from a seagull fly-past has probably never suffered the indignity of having to wear a green skull cap for the duration of their lunch break. Okay, I admit it, I didn't see the perpetrator, so the only proof I have off my attacker is the size of their deposit of mustard-green paste. And, of course, I made it worse by smearing it across my hair thinking I'd be able to give it a surreptitious wipe-off with my coat sleeve. Lesson learned, always wear a hat!

Lessons in Life from London

Day 122 - 11:47pm, 2 May 2019

Until today, I thought collaboration was just different people coming together to work on a specific task. As an avowed introvert, it wouldn't necessarily be my first choice of operational modes. Yet today, when I saw it in action I realised that it can foster a depth you cannot get from working on something alone. Having other people, with different views and perspectives, but all willing to listen, to stay focused and find the best solution, meant the sum of what we produced was far greater than any or all of the parts.

It was a long day, but worth it in more ways than I would have imagined. I think as humans we are meant to work together, to function in pack formation. And when we do, we create the friction and sparks that can light a fire that warms the soul.

Back on Track

Day 121 - 6:35am, 1 May 2019

Up early, not to wash my face in the early morning dew as is the tradition on May Day (do people actually still do it?), but to travel down to London for work. It's going to be the first of two long days, but for now its about sitting back on the train and enjoying the journey.

Step to It

Day 120 - 10:13am, 30 April 2019

Today, I walked and walked. I beat my personal best. I went to bed tired and sore, but not with the buzz I expected. It was all about hitting a number, rather than about how far I could go. After the first excitement of taking part in a global step challenge with a team from work, the fact that there are no let ups, that it is continuous, day after day, that is starting to get a little wearing. I am proud that I have achieved over half a million steps in thirty days (some of which are activity steps from my Bodybalance classes, rather than actual steps). But that means there is another 70 days to go and the thought of having to keep upping the numbers over the challenge and then sustaining it thereafter is frankly terrifying.

Finding Myself

Day 119 - 06:59am, 29 April 2019

I have taken my photo with my camera today. You cannot imagine how good this makes me feel. It's not the big things that throw you, but the little details that throw you off balance. The little thing that was blown out of all proportion was losing my camera.

While I was pretty certain it was in the house somewhere, I could not locate it and each day without it, it ate away at me more than was warranted. Your mind does the whole "what an idiot" routine and even though it hasn't stopped me taking my photo each day on the iPhone, writing the blog just reminded me of the camera's absence and all the blocking points in my life, particularly the clutter. Then, when I was beginning to think the way to move on was to buy a replacement, it turned up in the bureau of all places, when I was looking for the sellotape. And, as simple as that, the flow is back.

The River Flows Free

Day 118 - 3:33pm, 28 April 2019

Little Master returns to us from his first ever sleepover. I say returns, he might be here physically, but he certainly isn't with us mentally. He goes to trampolining, but once there is soon refusing to do it. Jenny comes up to get us and we remove him. He closes his eyes and lolls around the tub chair trying to make himself comfy. It turns out that he has had little sleep and nothing to eat while he was away. But this day has been coming with the trampolining for a very long time, and I am tired of fighting. So I give in. I cancel the direct debit, and for the now, all is well again.

The Time of the Trees

Day 117 - 11:43am, 27 April 2019

I wonder to myself how long I will be able to actually see the Water of Leith from my vantage point on the bridge. The trees are now either in bud or their leaves have unfurled and are obscuring my view. Once they are all out on full display, it may be a water-free image until the autumn winds whip them from their temporary home.

It's not something I thought of when I chose the spot in January. My main criteria was that it had to be practical for me to go there every day, whether I was on my way to work or not. A window to another world that I can peek through from the busy-busy of the street, without having to leave it. I consider shifting my position along the bridge to be closer to the Water of Leith building, but I decide that is cheating. Besides that, it seems only fair that the trees should have their chance to be centre spot.

Songbirds

Day 116 - 7:31am, 26 April 2019

Someone at work shares National Geographic's Webby-winning data visualisation of where migrating birds go. There is not just an interactive map, but has lots of other elements too, including buttons that you can press to hear the calls of the migrating birds. One of the buttons is for an innocuous little bird called Magnolia Warbler. Someone else comments that the name puts them in mind of a middle-aged Australian opera singer. I disagree, the thing that strikes me most about the name is how unrelated it is to the bird. You would be hard pushed to find a patch of magnolia on it, its chest is a bright yellow over which it looks as if an overturned black paint can has been spilled from its neck.  

The next songbird I encounter is one from my youth. As a late birthday treat, I go to see Eddi Reader at the Festival Theatre. She has a fantastic voice. As she trills "Find My Love" it takes me back to my teenage years when it seemed she voiced the leaden fears that lined my heart and made me wonder whether there would ever be anyone who thought and felt like me. But I found my Perfect, it just took time. 

There's a poem in that somewhere.

On the Same Wavelength

Day 115 - 7:58am, 25 April 2019

To the human eye, the sky and the ocean are blue. But colour doesn't exist, it's just the way our brains process wavelengths. It's funny, if not a little mind-blowing, to think that we probably will never know something as basic as what the sky looks like for the man's best friends I encounter on my walk.

Does Britannia Rule the Waves?

Day 114 - 9:09am, 24 April 2019

Radio 4 is talking about the Scottish Maritime Museum's decision to go gender neutral and stop referring to ships as 'she,' after the repeated vandalism of its signs. Ships have been "she" throughout maritime history, and while that in itself is not an argument for keeping it so, it does seem a rather extraordinary response to a single graffiti warrior. In the world as it is, I think you always have to assume that your words are going to offend someone and set this generation of keyboard warriors on edge. So how should you respond? You can roll over and give in, or you can fight your corner, as Britannia no doubt would do.

Home Sweet Home

Day 113 - 12:42pm, 23 April 2019

If I could start over, perhaps the one thing I would change would be to have less stuff. I've never been the tidiest, but the older I get, the more I find that the clutter overwhelms me. I have great plans for clearing out, but I find the more tidying I do, the more resistance it seems to create in my children, and even sometimes in me. A few weeks down the line and it's worse than ever. So I've resolved this time round, there will be no grand plans or gestures, just a gentle chipping away, bit by bit, until it feels like home again.

Step To It

Day 112 - 7:45am, 22 April 2019

I followed through on walking to work today; it's 3.3 miles from my photo spot. I wondered which way Google Maps would take me, as it's not my usual route. Surprisingly, there was no difference in the time needed - I thought this would take longer - but it turned out to be a fairly easy, albeit sweat-inducing walk to work. Definitely a task to be repeated during my step challenge.

The Winner Takes It All

Day 111 - 1:08pm, 21 April 2019

Given that "chaos" is the adjective that best describes how I feel about the state of the house at the moment, I am reading the book The 12 Rules for Life: an antidote to chaos. Peterson's first rule is to "stand up straight with your shoulders back." He illustrates this with a lesson on lobsters and dominance. If a lobster loses a fight with one of its kind, its brain dissolves and then it regrows as a more subordinate brain, in keeping with his lower status. As a result, a stable hierarchy of lobsters emerges and there's less need to jockey for position and so potentially mortally wound yourself in a fight. A lobster can trace its lineage back, in theory, to the time of the dinosaurs.

So then the author explains that each of us has "an unspeakably primordial calculator, deep within you [which] . . . monitors exactly where you are positioned in society." And it turns out that being lower status isn't good for us human critters either; we should all be aiming for the top lobster post if you want to be happy and successful. If you slouch around and look like a defeated lobster, then that primordial calculator inside us assigns us a lower dominance ranking, which means our brain produces less serotonin and we are less happy. 

The moral of the story is to be more lobster: stand up straight with your shoulders back and feel the happy chemical flowing.

Driving's Cool

Day 110 - 3:00pm, 20 April 2019

Be afraid, be very afraid. Little Mister is behind a wheel. Except, bless him, he's playing it cool and no danger to anyone. Which is just as well as we have declined to take out the insurance - costing as much as the junior driving experience - that they have offered us hand-in-hand with the threat of a £3,000 excess. Apparently, it was in the terms and conditions, which isn't even on the same page on the website, but tucked away elsewhere in the smallest font possible. I also now understand, however, why it says to allow two hours onsite for what is essentially a 15 minute driving slot. We hang around for an hour an a half before he gets to drive. My stress levels are sky high, but Little Mister is as cool as a cucumber. Or maybe not, the instructor says he holds on to the wheel too tightly, but I for one, would rather have it this way.

It's A Serious Business

Day 109 - 11:26am, 19 April 2019

It is Good Friday and the last episode of the BBC2 series Pilgrimage: the Road to Rome is showing. I've really enjoyed it. The basic premise is that eight celebrities, covering the whole TV arena from
light entertainers to an Olympian, of different faiths and none, and a range of ages, walk the Via Franigena and talk about their beliefs, or lack of them.

The comedian Stephen K. Amos is not religious and feels as a gay man that he is not accepted by the church. So when the programme concludes with an audience with the Pope, many (me too) would probably be expecting him not to attend, having already turned down a blessing en route. But he goes. And he speaks out, telling the Pope how he feels rejected by the church due to his sexuality. Whatever it was he was expecting to hear in response, it probably wasn't the reply he got, which was basically as a human being he was due his dignity and those who focus on the adjective "gay" are heartless. there was a beautiful dignity to both sides and I hope it marks a defrosting of relations all round. I wonder if he is free to sort out the Brexit negotiations . . .

Heron Lies a Tale

Day 108 - 3:05pm, 18 April 2019

Little Master and Little Miss come for a walk to the play park. They let me take a detour to take the photo of the Water of Leith and then we walk along the canal to the play park. It is a beautiful sunny day and, while I may be inclined to linger, they are not. Despite the fact that it is the first time I can ever claim to have seen a heron in the water. Indeed, we are rewarded with two separate sightings: the first on the Water of Leith and the second even closer to home on the canal. I say we, but the littlies don't feel the same love. There's no competition, the play park beckons.

Telling It Like It Is

Day 107 - 09:59am, 17 April 2019

We go to see a puppet show at the library, except it isn't a puppet show, it's two storytellers. They use a Kamishibai - a Japanese paper theatre - where the story is told with the help of a series of visual story boards, along with songs and musical accompaniments. It's a shame how few children there are, particularly when it is free, because the performance deserves a larger audience. I sit behind Little Master so that I can curtail his interruptions. He doesn't get rhetorical questions or intended silence, rather he feels he needs to answer them. And he also feels the need to bring anything and everything back to his Pokemon obsession, whether the topic deserves it or not.

So I have mixed emotions as I do this. It's great to see him engaged, but I don't want his over-engagement lead to under-engagement for others, particularly as in this instance he is probably the oldest child there. I don't want to feel like I am stifling him and not letting express himself, but I don't want him to become the centre of attention for the wrong reasons. Thankfully, the storytellers take it in their stride and even adapt their story as necessary to honour the views of all those who are present. And surely that is what storytelling is all about, giving a voice to the audience to express their greatest hopes and fears.

The Bell Tolls for Thee

Day 106 - 11:41am, 16 April 2019

Tonight, the world stands in respectful silence, looking helplessly on as Notre Dame burns. Thankfully, nobody is killed, but nonetheless we mourn the loss of the 850-years of accumulated history and heritage that was infused in its stone and wood. It also shows for all the technical advances and progress we have made in recent years, us humans - and the legacies we try to leave - are as vulnerable as we ever were. All it takes is the might of fire and the tyranny of four hours to devastate this iconic feature of the Parisian landscape and break the hearts of not just the 13 million visitors each year but people the world over. 

Flying High

Day 105 - 8:30pm, 15 April 2019

I am on holiday this week. Little Miss wants to go see the new Dumbo, but her brothers won't oblige, so she and I combine a trip to the opticians with a visit to the cinema after. And yes, I admit it, I cried. 

This is Disney at its best, a family movie where good always overcomes evil and the protagonist learns an important lesson about themselves. I quickly forget it's a CGI elephant and am completely absorbed in willing him to fly and rooting for him to find his freedom.

Pam Sunday

Day 104 - 3:24pm, 14 April 2019

It is Palm Sunday or Pam Sunday as Little Miss thought it was called. Inspired by some chalked street art on the way back from church, she decides to brighten our path similarly. Except that her and Little Master become a little carried away and are soon out on the pavement and then all the way up to the top of the road. Her handwriting is a little shaky which means that her "Happy Pam Sunday", looks less like someone's name and more like a four-letter word that begins po_ _. Of course, when the rain comes, everything else is washed away, with the exception of the porn reference. The mind boggles as to what the postman is going to think!  

Creme de la Creme

Day 103 - 4:17pm, 13 April 2019

Muriel Spark died on this day in 2006, aged 88. I vividly remember breathlessly reading The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie in high school. It was one of those few books which made such an impression on me that, as well as recalling the story, I can physically see the hardbook cover in my mind's eye all these years later. It was a very particular shade of mint green, unmistakable. It is also the first book that I can recall breathlessly reading, desperate to know how it ended. I really cared for each and everyone of the characters. Indeed, I secretly wanted to be one of Miss Brodie's set, to be special, to be marked out for great things by the attention of a charismatic leader. Thankfully, there was no such teacher at school, but there were some real characters who inspired us in their own special ways.

I Can See Through You

Day 102 - 9:25am, 12 April 2019

It's a guest water spot today - The Regent's Canal, next to the Guardian offices in York Way where my course is. It is the only course where I have been to where I am asked to put my bag and handbag through a scanner before I am given a pass to enter. I don't mind, but wonder what the security guard is thinking when his x-ray vision reveals a large wine-shaped bottle in my rucksack. I am not taking to early morning drinking, but rather there were promoters outside Kings Cross station when I passed this morning handing out free bottles of a non-alcoholic health drink. It seemed rude to pass it by, but by the time I have trekked with it all the way home to Edinburgh, I may yet regret it.

Which Way to London?

Day 101 - 08:17am, 11 April 2019

I am travelling to London for a course tomorrow, so leave work early to catch the train down. I am one part excited, one part anxious. Travelling, particularly on my own, makes me nervous. I think it's the fact that I have no sense of direction. I'm never sure where I am going to end up.

So thank goodness for Google Maps. Now, with a mobile phone in my hand, I don't have to have a sense of direction, just listen when my phone tells me to turn round and go the other way.  

Growing Pains

Day 100 - 09:18am, 10 April 2019

Little Mister is out at the cinema on his own. Not completely on his own, he is there with his friends, but no adults. They have gone to see a 12-rated film, Shazam, which is fine, because he is, but his friends aren't. There is no phone call so we know that he has made it there and from that point on, the waiting begins. 

We assume a couple of hours for the film to end, then allow another hour or so for him to walk home, even though he could do it in half that time. Then, the niggley-wiggleys begin. You try to ignore them but they are there, seeping into your consciousness, every time you brush them aside. Yet, we don't want to phone him, suggest that we don't trust him. So we sit on our worries for a little longer. Thankfully, my hubby gives in, meaning I don't have to. He sends boy-o a text and gets one back to say he is on his way. 

When he finally appears, he is late in coming back but not late late. Turns out they'd got themselves a drink in the coffee shop in the cinema before coming home, but did not think to share this info with us. I think the time has come to brush up on my "I'm not bothered" face, lest he knows what a worrier i am.

Blown Away

Day 99 - 09:48am, 9 April 2019

I walk from the kitchen to the adjoining sun room without bothering to switch the light on. The moon is low in a cloudless sky, a paper-thin slither of luminosity pinned to an ebony billboard. Because I am looking at it through the window, the glass plays tricks on the eyes. I clearly see a giant, celestial dandelion arcing from its base. It is breathtaking. Underneath, a star - or perhaps a planet, I do not know which - is a single white drawing pin left carelessly in the board at a jaunty angle. Or, just maybe, it could be a single dandelion seed that has parachuted there.

Pyjamarama

Day 98 - 8:02am, 8 April 2019

I get up and go off to work, leaving behind a still blackened house. Little Miss has dancing every morning this week and the boys are planning on spending as much of the day in pyjamas as they can get away with. 

It is amazing how quickly you can leave the house when you are only seeing to yourself and not having to marshal the hoards into some semblance of readiness for the day's activities. I had intended to make the most of the situation and leave the house earlier, that is until the siren call of a sleeping household keeps me in my bed and in my pyjamas right up to the last minute. Quite frankly, at this moment, I can see the appeal of staying in them for the rest of the day.  

It's All About the Bounce

Day 97 - 2:37pm, 7 April 2019

It's the last trampolining before the holidays, except it's not, because according to Little Master, they are already on holiday, thank you very much. School has finished, it finished on Friday. Therefore, he is on holiday. So why, oh why, should he have to go to trampolining in the holidays?

Explaining that the coaching week runs from Monday to Sunday is pure semantics as far as he is concerned. Still, with his sister in the same class, he is going. He adopts the shoulder hunched, woe is me look, as soon as he enters the gym hall. You just know it isn't going to end well.

The odd thing is that he loves trampolining. That boy can bounce and would bounce 24/7 if you would let him. The difference between him and his sister though is that she enjoys the discipline of moving her body in a set way, of making the straight lines, engages with the artistry and the anticipated applause. For him, it's about the sensory input, the being able to feel his body land with bump on the trampoline. It's like a full body stim, so telling him how to do it, where his arms and legs should be, is never going to be a motivator for him, particularly as those straight lines do not come naturally for him, as they do for his sister. 

I think his trampoline class days are numbered.