You might remember that, prior to YoungB’s leaving the country, I had to replace a zipper in a pencil-case I’d made for his new digital recorder because the one I’d originally used had been too flimsy and broken on the first day. The case sat on the sewing table with the zipper and sat a bit longer and then sat a bit more. For various reasons, I couldn’t get to the sewing machine. I could barely get to the sewing room! But eventually, the day before YoungB was due to leave the country, I managed to clear a big enough space to do the necessary. And that’s it there below. Done. Useful and necessary but, you know, I can’t wear it or anything, so how useful is it, really?
Monthly Archives: July 2014
The suitcase still wasn’t packed and there were problems finding the electrical adaptors and the sleeping bag was forgotten and we had a lovely, long lunch with Nonna who accepts the idea that YoungB is going to be away for a year without too many qualms and we hope she’ll be here to share his tales when he returns and then after lunch we struggled a bit more with the suitcase and at the eleventh hour were thinning the ranks of the clothing in order to fit critical bits of technology and finally we said that what was done was it: we were ready to leave for the airport. Which we did. And nobody cried at all (though I can tell you that it is now remarkably QUIET in these parts). And lots of YoungB’s mates from school (with some of whom he’s now sharing university studies) came to wave him goodbye and they had the sense to give him a collective gift of a neck pillow because they said he couldn’t possibly endure such a long flight without one and I think that’s probably right.
As you can see from Dr C’s photo above, Life is pretty good! YoungB has seen a few of the sights from a hop-on, hop-off bus tour and cycled hither and yon with Dr C and managed to enjoy a run with her the evening he arrived and coped well with London’s rail and underground systems and met up with friends new and old and had lunches and a lovely holiday in a city that, at its summer best, can be quite beautiful. Now he’s off to Paris for a couple of days, for what will be almost the last of the holiday before the intensive language course begins. Paris will be beautiful, too, but entirely different. And then Rome will be beautiful but different again. And you know why I like that photo, apart from the fading light and the warm, late-in-the-day colours? That’s my baby in London (gasp!) and, guess what? He’s wearing a shirt that once belonged to my Dad. I’m hoping that YoungB has had a beer or two at the very least, if not a Guinness (can’t help it; that’s the Irish side of the family, right?), and toasted his grandpa’s memory. That would be perfectly appropriate, don’t you think?
YoungB is allergic to some nuts. I think I’m allergic to how nuts it’s been here for for the past few weeks (and it’s not over yet).
Amidst all the chaos of the family lunch – no photos; I’m having trouble with the camera – and YoungB’s final fortnight in the country, I’ve been trying to settle back into the workforce because, yes, I have a new job. That’s good. It will bring in some income and keep me occupied and off the streets while YoungB is away (if it doesn’t kill me first, having to use my brain again after more than a year of unemployment). The timing could hardly be worse; but what the heck? There are other bad things about the job. It’s on the other side of town and, realistically, in order to ensure that I’ll be there for a 9 o’clock start, I’m having to leave home about an hour earlier than I used to leave to ensure getting to town by that time because I have to change buses. Some days I get good connections, other days I don’t; and standing about in the cold, wet weather we’ve been having is most unpleasant. The shortest bus route would require three buses and take more time, though it’s an option I might consider for when the weather is kinder because it involves a steady bit of walking at the end and I’m missing my exercise routines. Sitting at a desk all day in a ridiculously chilly airconditioned office is ruinous for your blood pressure and waistline.
There aren’t any good coffee shops or cafes or friendly eateries near my – otherwise salubriously located – new workplace, at least not within lunch-break walking distance. There’s a Hit and Run store (as Dr B once wrongly called it and I’m sure you’ll appreciate why the name stuck), not far away and the coffee there is acceptable; but there’s nowhere to sit down. I’m told there’s a wonderful organic coffee shop “up the road” but it’s too far up the road to be useful because it’s too far to walk at lunchtime (see previous comment). You’d think that must mean I’ll save money? I’m not so sure. I’m also not sure about whether it’s good or bad or even more nuts that there’s this fabric shop just a few doors away!