Glorious weekend in Wellington. The Orongorongos a developing sea of yellow across the harbour as the gorse buds ripen…
Calm, cloudless weather. Cool, extremely still evening; the sort where you can almost touch the dew as it settles on you. The dull regular thud of the trampoline across the gully and the yells of the kids as they play on it.
Someone (can’t recall who) once pointed out that the sound of children playing sounds delightful when you’re far enough away not to hear what they are actually saying.
Mowed the lawn for the first time since June. Ours is a classic Wellington lawn – i.e . you need to have successfully completed a rock climbing course before you mow it.
Spent a great deal of time pulling the weedeater to bits and calling into question its parentage and its lifestyle choices.
We are now getting a new weed eater and the skin on my knuckles should grow back in a week or so. The children who were playing on the trampoline now have some interesting new words to try out.
Also took the two and a half year old to swimming school. This is at 9am on Saturday and the pool is full of dads giving their other halves a lie in.
I could comment on the sexual politics of all this but screw it.
The two and half year old is – for medical reasons – a bit behind the others but she still loves swimming. Went down the mini- slide with a dubious expression but surfaced with a big, exuberant grin on her face. Marvellous to see.
However the classes also involve singing. So you have a bunch of Kiwi dads in the water with their kids, all mumbling along to ‘the wheels on the bus’.
The only way this is really going to work is if we all have a couple of beers beforehand and pretend it is karaoke.
I can though see a few drawbacks with this plan.