30th May 2012

Since the last blog, the mercury has shot up into the high twenties, and the sky has been obligingly cloud-free, practically Mediterranean, only without the sangria.

On Tuesday, Lee popped over for a visit. Charlotte and Ellis joined us, and we all headed to Dingley Woods to admire the bluebells and test the swings (for purely scientific purposes, of course). To my amusement, and Charlotte’s utter horror, Ellis, under my careful supervision, decided to demonstrate his acrobatic prowess by tumbling head over heels down a slope. He briefly considered crying, but concluded that fun outweighed the points of sympathy. He emerged scraped, bruised, and looking rather pleased with himself, a proper little warrior!

The bluebells, though past their best, still put on a decent show, and the swings proved timelessly entertaining. Leaving the woods was another adventure altogether: Lee and I, dressed optimistically in shorts, were forced into a hasty detour to avoid a gauntlet of nettles. “Character building,” we told ourselves… while hopping about saying “ouch!”

As we wandered through the woods, we spotted a cow in the neighbouring field who had just welcomed a calf into the world. The little one was wobbling about on its brand-new legs, looking rather like Bambi on ice. We stood and admired the touching scene, while the mother cow stared at us with that classic bovine expression that says, “Yes, I’ve just done all the hard work, and no, you’re not invited to the christening.”

On the way back, we sensibly stopped at the Cherry Tree for some much-needed refreshment and to give Ellis a chance to run wild in the beer garden, which he did with considerable enthusiasm.

Fast-forward to last Wednesday, when Sarah celebrated her nineteenth birthday (how on earth did that happen so quickly?). We gathered the clan for a barbecue, with Lee staying a couple of days for good measure. I’d scrubbed and chlorinated the pool, which turned out to be the ultimate crowd-pleaser in the afternoon heat.

Sura turned up armed with water balloons, which instantly transformed the garden into a war zone. The younger ones chased each other around, shrieking with glee as they launched their soggy ammunition. Sarah, showing no mercy, landed a direct hit on Jamie’s shoulder. What she didn’t anticipate was the half-hour pursuit that followed, with Jamie tearing around the garden like a man possessed in a vain attempt at revenge. Eventually, he conceded defeat, soaked, breathless, and forced to admit that his little sister was simply too quick and cunning. Victory to Sarah!

The following day, Sarah and Lee wisely headed to a water park near Stoke-on-Trent, an inspired choice given the heatwave. They returned home suitably soggy and sun-kissed, rounded the day off with a meal out, and then Lee dutifully drove home.

Jamie, meanwhile, seems to be thriving in his new job, zipping up and down the country between warehouses and offices. Every so often, he arrives home with mystery meat for Sue, which is either tucked safely into the freezer or served up for dinner before anyone asks too many questions. He and Harley have just marked their third anniversary with a meal out. Harley casually mentioned that her parents might be relocating to Norfolk next year, and possibly something about her moving to Cardiff… though I may have imagined that bit.

Last Saturday, I joined friends for the Tigers v. Harlequins match at Twickenham. Sadly, the Tigers played like pussy cats and were soundly beaten. Still, the weather was glorious, the company excellent, and the pre-match fish and chips with drinks at the Lord Blucher kept spirits high. We sat in the shade, which was just as well, as the rugby itself provided little to cheer about.

Back on the home front, I’ve been helping Charlotte with her new decking project. We bought the timber in Harborough and transported it back to Rothwell, balanced rather precariously on my car roof. Work began one evening with Peter Cooper, my Kiwi mate from the rugby club, and then continued on Sunday with Suraj’s assistance. The job’s been part DIY project, part family endurance test.

On Sunday, Sarah took the train to London for a couple of days with Lee. With the weather so glorious, they certainly timed it well.

Monday saw me off to Yorkshire to chauffeur Nan and Aunt Josie to Manchester Airport for their Spanish adventure. We sensibly popped to the pub the night before, then rose at the ungodly hour of 4 a.m. for the drive over the moors. The journey up was blissfully clear, and by 6 a.m. I’d waved them off at the terminal. The return, however, was less smooth; the roadworks were out in force, and every traffic jam in England seemed to have conspired against me. I arrived back in Harborough around 10 am, inhaled a coffee, collapsed into bed, resurfaced at half twelve, grabbed some food, and then collected Peter for another three hours of decking duty in Rothwell.

To round off the day, Suraj’s car was the unfortunate recipient of a Tesco car-park mishap courtesy of a reversing woman (not catastrophic, but irritating all the same).  Later, Charlotte turned up briefly to retrieve her car from the garage after its MOT and a service, so at least someone left in better spirits.

This morning we awoke to yet another scorcher, and the welcome sight of Sarah back from London.