Taxi For The Old Folks

Back to work today and L is back into her 6am routine or she would have been had the alarm been moved back from its bank holiday mode.

Today is L birthday and I hand over the deckchair. She reckons today makes her middle aged. Which if she's correct is good news for me because I thought I became middle aged five years ago and I'm younger than she is.

I'm on the bus today because I'm on the beer and curry tonight. Yes I know it's L's birthday but I've been given special dispensation. At least I hope I have. Hope she meant it when she said ok. I did offer to reschedule and I should be back just after 9pm.

We meet the birthday girl and Doggo on our way to the bus stop. I get a good greeting from Doggo but I'm soon forgotten, as he continues with the job in hand, namely lots of weeing and sniffing.

Daughter's school is taking its SATS tests this week for its league table position; unfortunately they expect the children to help out by sitting the exam papers for them.

Daughter buys the DVD of a film called "The Holiday" for L. L describes it as lovely and cheesy. She says I'll hate it. Perhaps it’s a good job I'm out tonight.

Son will be delivering his present later on; he has this quirk where he likes to build the suspense and give out his presents at the end of the day. So L will have to wait to see what he's got for her.

Talking of Son. He has his last ever lesson at school this Friday before he starts his 'study leave' for his GCSE's. L warns me to expect an evening of 'My baby, I can remember him first starting school'. Perhaps it’s a good job I'm out tonight.

L's work colleagues have all signed and given her a Christmas card. She's chuffed; she doesn't like people going to a lot of trouble.

I meet some old school friends straight from work and it's a good night out. Two pints of Brunswick Triple Hop 4.0% and a Cobra in the Indian 5.0%. I have a healthy training-friendly Chicken Acharee curry, which is a dish with pickle in it, which I often cook at home.

It's good; it's almost as good as mine. Keema naan too. Well ok so perhaps it wasn't a healthy training-friendly meal after all but at least I got plenty of carbs.

I run for the 8.50 bus, not only because I'm worried it will leave early again but also because it's now chucking it down with rain.

I'm soaked by the time I get there and the bus is late. So at least I manage to catch it. One chap is complaining to the driver that the 8.20 didn't turned up. Ah another victim for Trent's indecipherable timetables. There is no 8.20, it's that confusing timetable, it catches everyone out, the 8.20 only runs on Fridays and Saturdays.

The chap should try working out what time the 07.35 bus out of Nottingham arrives at the QMC. Trent's bus times leaflet simply says that the bus stops at the QMC 7-10 mins after leaving Nottingham. A bit vague. The timetable on the bus stop is more decisive, saying it stops at 07.45, so you better hope it's not doing a 7 minuter or you'll miss it, it won't wait. However if you look at the councils new electronic timetable it has the bus down as 7.47, believe that and you're waiting for the next bus.

Text L. She offers to rescue me from the rain and pick me up from our wee spot. Treasure. She is there waiting for me when I alight the bus, although I feel a bit of a fraud because it's no longer raining.

In the end it's a good job that L's taxi service is in operation tonight as I'm not the old senior citizen who's in need of international rescue. A chap is struggling up Adams Hill, waving his umbrella as a distress signal. We take him to Farndon Green Post Office because he seems to think he lives somewhere around there but he's not sure, he can't remember the name of his road. Then he directs us down the wrong street, luckily a neighbour recognises him and guides him home. I have a lot of sympathy for him, that'll be me in a few years.

Get home. The deck chair has been constructed. Son has delivered his present, a Modest Mouse CD. L ventures into the loft to see if she can find any photos of Son's first day at school. Seems I've not missed the reminiscing after all. Unfortunately though we can't find any.

We have a glass of wine to toast L's birthday but she's a bit down. Seems Daughter has been the model Daughter and treated L to a DVD session and has cooked birthday cakes for her. Ah this is why we have a smokey kitchen, charred microwave and rock hard chocolate brownies. It'll be the job of Son and me to dispose of them, as L probably won't want any and Daughter shouldn't have any. To top it all it's a black week on the old hormonal calendar. So the birthday girl doesn't even get sex on her special day.