7223/19743
I allowed myself to be carried along by the unpredictable tide of my children today. I was all set to let them watch a film, but they got bored and wanted to build forts and then they found a big bag of shells we’d brought back from Arran and they decided they wanted to paint them. It was chaos. It was messy. It was awesome. Without Catie's steadying hand on the rudder it’s very close to being a house of three under tens, though one of us has a little bit more responsibility when it comes to trying anything dangerous or that involves too many snacks. I think after another week or so all distinctions would disappear and we’d descend into all out anarchy, but for one weekend I just about kept it together. And no one got (seriously) hurt.
At 3pm we went round to see the grandparents for Papa’s birthday dinner. I have done very badly at keeping up with the running and I have two half marathons less than two months away, so I took the opportunity to go for a run and managed a steady 8kms which was basically 4km downhill followed by 4km uphill. It made me think that it was possible that I would be ready in time (though I don’t think I will be as speedy as last year). I haven’t really been pushing the justgiving page, mainly because if I haven’t raised so much then it will be easier to back out. So stop me backing out and donate to Movember here
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/monoball2
I listened to
Lucy Worsley talking about Agatha Christie as I ran I am not a huge Christie fan and I don’t think I’ve read any of her books, though have enjoyed the adaptations over the years, but it’s still an engaging story. Her first book was turned down by six or so publishers, but finally picked up by a guy who was a bit of a shark and gave her a very poor deal in the contract, which she excitedly and enthusiastically signed. As much as that would turn out to be a dumb move (in the long term) on his part, as obviously she would move on when she realised her eventual worth, without him there would be a good chance that she would never have been published. Life had overtaken her and she’d more or less given up on the idea of being a novelist. So whilst I can sympathise that it was crap to be ripped off, she did owe that man some thanks. Most stories of successful people start with some piece of luck (or incredible self-belief) and you can’t help wondering about all the Christies and Rowlings out there who got turned down by loads of publishers and then decided that it meant writing wasn’t for them.
I was stiff and sweaty after the run but the kids wanted to play football and cricket so I didn’t get a chance to rest. And I can’t complain. Having kids means you get to go back to playing again, even if it is sometimes in a supervisory capacity. As the youngest, by some distance, of three kids, I spent many weekends dreaming of having siblings to play with (but instead played games against myself) and so it’s great to finally get the chance to have a little gang of playmates, even if it is up to half a century too late. These next four or five years are the golden time, I am guessing. But hopefully good enough to make the painful first five years and the unpleasant subsequent however many years I am alive worth it.
