NotSheep

We’ve been holed up, looking out the window at seemingly-endless rain and doing lots of skool. Yes, I know it’s August – but the weather doesn’t seem to be aware of it, and with a French child arriving in only three weeks, we’re trying to get as much done as possible so we can take more time off when he gets here. In the meantime, we have been asked by the exchange organisation if Freddy would be ready and willing to go to France at the beginning of September, if another match is found for him. My immediate response to that idea was somewhat…guttural. I know we sent his application off months ago, but it still all seems a bit too fast. At any rate, I’ve talked it over with him and he’s not sure – and if he’s not sure, it’s a definite no. Even if he’s happy to go so quickly, it’s probably still a no. We shall sleep on it.

Since it’s been a week since my last post, I’m having my usual difficulty in remembering – although I don’t think there has been very much to remember in the last few days. George and Freddy finished their second week of sailing courses last Friday, which means they have both achieved the RYA Level 2 in…something or other. They have both been back to Sea Cadets too – they’re still going to the junior section, and although George should, apparently, be moving up to the seniors now that he’s 12, I’m hoping we can convince them to let him stay on in the juniors for a while. We still haven’t made any decisions about how to work it all around Cubs and Scouts; there just aren’t enough week-nights for all the things they want to do!

Barney is back from Air Cadet Camp, having had “air experience” in a variety of aircraft, and with a paper-plate award for “best pyjamas”. At least he didn’t get the paper-plate award for “grumpiest cadet”, which is the one he’d have been awarded if he’d acted the way he has since his return. He really has not been helping the atmosphere in the house this week, and has been told in fairly forceful terms that he needs to sort himself out. Now if someone asked if he could go to France at the beginning of September, I’d be asking if it wasn’t possible to bring it forward…

Still haven’t sold my car. Still haven’t found a nine-seater. Still doing my treadmill thing (although at a slower pace than the programme says). Still trying to get the house organised. Still can’t see the end of my to-do list.

But I remember exactly what I was doing four years ago: I was wondering if these contractions were another false alarm, or if, at 42+4, we were finally seeing the beginning of the Real Thing. They turned out to be the latter. How many of you remember reading my blog four years ago then?