Category: Ramble Page 34 of 57

I get up to another bastard cold morning. I still manage a 30-minute morning shift; which is good, considering that winter all but killed my writing efforts last year. I have a busy morning ahead, not least because I have yet to make lunches for the kinderbesten.

This is how the morning goes … I drop the Kinderbeast at school, then drive the Elderbeast to his PEAC class. I have a meeting to get to first thing at work, which I already know I’m going to be late to. The meeting is in another part of campus to my usual office. I manage to get a reasonably close parking place and arrive just a few minutes late. Remarkably I’m not the last person to turn up. This one lasts half an hour, giving me another half hour before a second meeting in exactly the same room. It’s not worth heading back to my office, so I grab a coffee check some emails and take a walk, with a call from my mortgage broker conveniently arriving in the middle. My second meeting more or less wraps up in time for me to leave and collec the Elderbeast from PEAC. The teacher tells me he’s not been feeling well all morning (though he has managed two bowls of goulash that one of the other kids has brought in). I decide to take him home to rest for the afternoon and then it’s back to work.

I have some lunch, reply to some emails, then it’s time for another meeting–it’s in the same place as my first two meetings of the day, so there’s a bit of a stroll. It’s sunny on the way there, and then pouring with rain on the way back. I field some more emails and then I have to leave early as I have an appointment with the bank to sign my new mortgage papers (this is the bit where I refinance the house and have it all transferred to my name only – it’s exactly as much fun as it sounds). I’m expecting this meeting to last less than half an hour (go in, sign papers, go out again). Instead it takes over 90 minutes. At the end of it my head is swimming and my stomach is groaning.

I head home, finally, and make a vat of cauliflower curry. It’s delicious. The Elderbeast, still feeling sorry for himself, does not eat. I strongly suspect he will not be going to school in the morning.

The Kinderbeast comes in during the night claiming he can’t sleep. I check my clock: it’s 6am. It’s touch and go whether he’ll go back to sleep, but I suggest he climbs into my bed; which he does and promptly nods off. I take the opportunity to nip out of bed and flick the heater on as the morning has achieved Utter Bastard levels of cold. My alarm goes off at 6:29am and the Kinderbeast decides it’s time to get up and watch TV. I get up for a slightly earlier than normal morning shift.

At the back of my mind is the knowledge that I have to get three children ready for school this morning instead of the usual two Kinderbesten. For once I’m grateful that it’s late start at school, which gives me an extra 20 minutes to play with. I successfully get the Elderbeast in the shower (he seems oblivious to the arctic chill) while his friend gets himself ready. They decide they want to walk to school, so I boot them out of the house at 8:30am and, feeling overwhelmed with generosity, give them $2.50 to spend at the canteen. A moment later the Elderbeast knocks on the door and asks for another 30c each so they can buy an Up’n’Go in Coles. I oblige and they are gone.

I drive the Kinderbeast to school at 8:50am and, being a responsible, make a point to look out for the Elderbeast and his friend. They are not in their class, and they are not lurking in the vicinity either. This is not altogether surprising, but I don’t want to have to tell the Elderbeast’s friend’s Mum that I mislaid her son so I decide to go looking for them, First, and most obvious port of call is Coles. I don’t see them at first, but then spot them sauntering away from the checkout, each with a bottle of coffee milk in their hand.

Now, the one thing that the Elderbeast is not allowed before school is … coffee milk. And he knows this. So I confiscate the milk, which displeases the Elderbeast greatly. He complains that they had to ‘borrow’ money off someone so they could afford to buy the coffee milk–all of which, to my mind, makes it even funnier that I swoop in at the last minute and steal the fruits of their hard-earned victory. I walk them both to their class, and then stash the coffee milk in my lunch bag so they can have them later.

Shortly before I head home Rachel messages me to let me know that not only does the Elderbeast have his friend over (as expected) but that the Kinderbeast has somehow managed to conjure up two friends to visit too. Fortunately by the time I get home the two additional friends have gone, but the house is a long way from being peaceful. I’ve offered to keep the Elderbeast’s friend for dinner, as his mother still can’t face the thought of cooking, but he decides he’s ready to head home after that.

Peace, more or less, descends on the house again.

Later, I finish volume 5 of Locke & Key. This is the point I reached last time. This is exciting. Tomorrow I get to read all new Locke & Key!

It’s a viciously cold Tuesday. My working day is enlivened somewhat by a midday workshop which features a free Subway lunch, so things aren’t too bad. I head home for what I think is going to be a typical evening.

Shortly after the Kinderbesten have settled, my phone rings. It’s the Elderbeast’s best friend’s Mum–which almost certainly means it’s the Elderbeast’s best friend. Which it is. He apologises for calling so late, then explains that his Mum has been puking her guts up all evening and wonders if he can come over and stay at ours. Being able to imagine all too well what it’s like to be incapably sick *and* have children to watch out for, I don’t hesitate to say yes. Naturally the Elderbeast is terrifically excited at the prospect of a sleepover.

I go and collect his friend, who is already in his pajamas, and bring him home, with strict instructions for both children that it is bedtime and sleep is expected (I don’t really expect sleep: I’m not completely stupid, but I have to keep up appearances here). I end up having to go in to keep the peace, literally, on several occasions, but otherwise the sleepover ends up not being too traumatic.

I do, however, observe that the Elderbeast smells particularly rank and vow to hose him down in the morning.

I am woken in the night by some lower back pain. I guess there’s a first time for everything. I manage to get back to sleep. The pain is still there in the morning, but eventually fades. I get up and start work on a new draft of When The Stars Go Out, the first story I wrote after my marriage imploded. I’ve been tackling how to represent what happens to my main character, and have decided I can leave most of it to the end and leave the reader guessing (alongside the rest of the characters).

We enjoy some heavy rain and startling thunder at work, which enlivens the average Monday. The Elderbeast has asked for risotto one night this week; it’s one of Rachel’s specialities so I ask if she’ll cook us some up after picking up the kids from school. This gives me enough time to sit down and play some board games with the kinderbesten before dinner. We choose Machi Koro again, which has quickly established itself as a family favourite

After that I finally consign the kinderbesten to sleep, and settle down for my traditional Monday night’s viewing of Watch Game Of Thrones.

I get up at 8am for my Sunday morning shift and finish the second draft of my creepy lighthouse story. I have time for a bit of breakfast and to get some pulled pork cooking in the slow cooker before I need to leave.

The Elderbeast has a party to go to, and his best friend is also going. The Elderbeast’s best friend’s Mum is going on a lunch date, so she has asked if I can take her son to the party–which I can. This clearly my penance for having a bonus #childfree night: I go from zero children to an excess of of them. I pick him up on the way to collect the kinderbesten from their Nan’s house. He talks at me at great length about Zelda on the way, which makes him an almost exact clone of the Elderbeast. I then have to stop by the shops to pick up a gift card (for the birthday boy) which I’d forgotten to pick up yesterday. Doh.

We get to the party a few minutes early and lurk suspiciously in the car until we see other people turning up. I drop the Elderbeast and his friend off, and have to summon the Kinderbeast back as he has automatically wandered in to join the party. The two of us head home and watch Jurassic World, or at least a bit of it until the Kinderbeast gets bored.

A few hours later it’s time to pick up the Elderbeast and his friend. I get to the party and there are a couple of parents relaxing in the driveway. There’s no noise. No sign of kids. They’ve hired the ‘Game Vault’ for the party: basically a truck which has been fitted out with a bunch of games consoles, and all the kids are inside. As the father says: “It’s the quietest party ever!”

We get home and the Elderbeast asks if his friend can stay for a few more hours, which I agree to. I manage to shut out the incessant noise of their play until the friend eventually gets taken home. Then it’s time for dinner and bed.

I invite the Elderbeast to watch 10 Cloverfield Lane with me, and he accepts. I’m glad I’ve managed to avoid reading too much about the film, as it keeps me guessing right to the end. The Elderbeast is almost literally on the edge of his seat, asking: “Why is this so tense?!”

Needless to say we both enjoy it. I’m particularly impressed by the way the script navigates the is he/isn’t he conundrum. Afterwards the Elderbeast capitalises on the movie, complaining he’s too unsettled to sleep in his own bed, and scores a night in mine.

It’s Saturday, which means it’s weekly shop day. The kinderbesten are most excellent and we make it to the shops by 9:30am. For Saturday Morning Cinema Club I get a random urge for something John Hughesy, and realise that Ferris Bueller’s Day Off would probably be a fine choice for us all to watch. I don’t own a copy–shocking!–but luckily it’s on Netflix. The Kinderbeast gets bored early on, but the Elderbeast thoroughly enjoys it, as do I.

The kinderbesten have requested a sleepover at their Nan’s for the evening, granting me a bonus #childfree night. I tuck into the usual steak dinner, and then decide to watch Midnight Special. I’ve had a friend’s copy for some weeks now, and figure it might satisfy the mild Stranger Things craving I’ve had since watching the season 2 trailer last night.

It’s pretty good, but not as solidly satisfying as I’d hoped. It seems underdeveloped in parts, and when I later find out that one of the original plans for the script was for it to lead into a TV series, it all makes sense

It’s leftover chicken soup for dinner, which is kinda boring for a Friday, so I head to Coles on the way home to pick up some interesting bread rolls to go on the side. And maybe some cookies. However, I find Coles has only stocked up on disappointment. I come away with no cookies and bread rolls of merely passable interest. The kinderbesten don’t complain, anyway.

For Fridate Horror we’re a bit stuck, until I review my Plex library and find all sorts of long-forgotten downloads. We pick an old british anthology movie called Vault Of Horror. It’s splendid, the sort of horror film that would be impossible to make nowadays without turning it into a parody, or removing all of the slightly intentional humour.

I’ve made plans to go and see Dunkirk with a friend. The Elderbeast has also expressed interest in seeing the movie, so he gets to tag along. I want to see it properly, which means either ‘Xtreme Screen’ or IMAX, and there’s an IMAX screening at 7pm.

This requires some logistical effort. I need to leave work, get home to pick up the Elderbeast, drive over to collect my friend, and then get to the cinema by 7pm. I also want to eat before the movie, and parking is currently a shambles at the particular shopping centre we’re heading to, so I need to allow time for that.

In the end we arrive ridiculously early. We buy our tickets, tuck into some sushi, and still have an hour to kill before the movie starts. Naturally we spend the time looking at toys and blurays. Eventually it’s time to go and find our seats. The Elderbeast has been given some cash by his Nan, so he gets to buy himself some outrageously overpriced coke. The first thing I like about IMAX is that we get no adverts; only trailers. That alone may make it work buying IMAX tickets in future. I realise that this is my first experience of IMAX since leaving London. Consequently I’m used to the extravagant dimensions of the BFI IMAX which, I am told, is six times larger than the screen we are currently looking at.

In the end, it doesn’t matter. Dunkirk is outstanding. Easily the loudest film I’ve seen in a long time, and one of those rare films where the sound is as much a part of the experience as the visuals. It’s also unusual in its almost complete lack of character development: the characters are constructed entirely in terms of how they react to the events we see on screen, and yet, against all laws of screenwriting, it works perfectly.

I’m especially pleased that the Elderbeast comes away with nothing but praise for the movie. As an added bonus we’re home not long after 10pm: an awesome night out *and* a relatively early night. Win!

The Kinderbeast comes into my room during the night telling me he can’t sleep. I think it’s almost morning and tell him to get into my bed. He does and promptly falls back to sleep, as do I. Then he wakes up again, this time needing the toilet. I check my clock and it’s only 4am. Regardless, I wake up feeling surprisingly refreshed and plough through a second draft of my flash fiction piece.

We get stranded in the car outside the school: the rain has started hammering down in the short drive from our house. We wait for it to stop, but it only gets heavier. I see plenty of parents dropping their kids at the gates and ejecting them from the car, leaving them to take their chances against the elements. Finally it stops and we get out. I walk the Kinderbeast to his class and find at least two of his classmates dripping from their encounter with the rain.

After that I get the exact same routine when I get to work.

Later on I tell the Elderbeast he won’t be staying up tonight to watch The Bachelor, on the basis that it’s a school night and The Bachelor doesn’t exactly provide the best example for him. This triggers an extended rant focusing largely on school, and I realise we’re already back in the same boat we only just got out of.

It’s gonna be a bumpy ride …

Tuesday. I get up and finish the first draft of my new story. It’s come in at flash fiction length, just a whisper over 1,000 words, which is a new realm for me. I’m pretty excited about this, and pleased with how the story is shaping up.

At work we have to tolerate Christmas In July (for which I have made banana bread). It turns out to be relatively pleasant, and I enjoy a couple of platefuls of damn decent food. I’m also impressed that the winner in the ‘best dressed’ category has shown up with a jumper stating “Now I have a machine gun, ho ho ho”. Brilliant.

After all that I spend the afternoon feeling like I need a Christmas Day nap. I get home very tired, and have one of those evenings where any and all noise unreasonably stresses me out. It is, of course, one of the those evenings in which the Kinderbeast talks at me incessantly, and the Elderbeast unleashes any random noise that escapes his brain cavity. It doesn’t help that both the rates and my water bill choose today to arrive on my doorstep as well.

I figure I’m probably coming down with something and retreat to bed at the earliest opportunity for more Locke & Key.