9th December 2007 

Monday night saw Sarah and me off to De Montfort Hall in Leicester for the ‘Chairman’s Concert’. Our school choir performed, and once again, they were brilliant. It’s just a shame they can’t see or hear themselves in action; if they could, they’d realise just how good they are. Sue, still nobly juggling full-time work and lesson plans, couldn’t join us (though that joy awaits me after Christmas… lucky me).

Jamie spent a few days in Birmingham, working on another Fashion Show at the NEC. He appears to enjoy it, but as he’s a man of very few words, it’s hard to tell if he’s living the dream or just doing a compelling impression of someone who is.

Nan is in good spirits and already getting into the Christmas mood. She’s even volunteered to look after Lucas on Christmas Eve so the rest of us can continue our family tradition of ten-pin bowling. Brave woman.

On Friday, Sarah cooked a salmon dish at school and got another well-deserved ‘A’. She refuses to eat fish because it’s “disgusting”, so Sue and I happily disposed of it for her. Very tasty it was too, clearly an ‘A’ dish all round.

Saturday took us to Newark for Lucas’s first birthday party. The weather was absolutely dreadful, wet, windy, and cold. In other words, a perfect recreation of the day he was born. Lucas is now firmly out of babyhood and into full toddler mode, walking, exploring, and flashing the kind of smile that would get him out of trouble with Interpol.

Predictably, the presents were ignored in favour of the cardboard boxes they came in. While Lucas clambered in and out of packaging like a curious cat, the adults busied themselves with that proud British tradition: attempting to assemble things without reading the instructions. Charlotte took charge of the food (there was enough to cater for Newark and possibly parts of Lincolnshire), and Suraj took care of the drinks; judging by the amount of Asti available, he was either expecting a toast or a flotilla. Fortunately, Sue and one of the neighbours nobly stepped in to reduce the stockpile.

Lucas and his mate Hamish (who will sadly develop a strong Scottish accent thanks to his dad) showed great maturity by letting the adults run the show. We headed home after Lucas went to bed around 8 pm. I suspected the party would roll on well into Sunday morning, regardless of the guest of honour being asleep. The drive home was “challenging”, according to Sue, who reported the car behaving like it had a mind of its own. She made it to bed with all the elegance of a sailor on shore leave.

Cracking party. Lovely people. And while Lucas may not yet have mastered the art of party etiquette, throwing up at least once shows real promise.