A few minutes after my mobile woke me this morning there was a knock on the bedroom door, and my Dad shouted “time to get up”. I squinted at the clock, and wondered what was going on - we weren’t supposed to be going anywhere today. He then knocked on the door again, and shouted “Doesn’t matter - I forgot what day it was”.
I will admit to grinning as I rolled out of bed. After a shower, brushing my teeth, and getting dressed I wandered into the kitchen to put the kettle on, finding my Dad already waiting for the kettle.
“I forgot what day it was!”
“Idiot”
We both grinned.
The rest of the day has been pretty relaxed. After watching the sun come up from the kitchen, my Mum appeared and asked if I wanted any breakfast.
“No thankyou”
She brought me a plate full of crumpets regardless. This is what parents do, isn’t it.
A little while later I looked out at the rolling clouds and sunshine, and took my chance to wander down to the sea. There is a winding road that snakes past a monastery and between farmers fields for a couple of miles - we’ve walked it numerous times over the years. Along the way I met perhaps three cars, and a couple of people on foot.
Turning the final corner towards Talland, and the beach, I was surprised to see the beach cafe open so dropped in grab a hot chocolate. The girl behind the counter asked “regular, or deluxe?”
I smiled.
“What’s deluxe?”
She smiled. “Cream and marshmallows on top”.
“Oh, I’ll have a deluxe then please”
I would normally go for the basic version (I’m the same way with coffee), but thought “I should help support this place - because it’s wonderful”. The shop has been there in one guise or another since I was little - I remember scraping pocket money together for countless fishing lines, ice creams, and cornish pasties.
I finished the hot chocolate, took my mug back, and set off across the sands left behind by the retreating tide - smiling as a lady threw a stick into the surf for her dog.
Half an hour later I arrived back at the house, put the kettle on, and responded to a shout from my Dad to watch something on his computer.
Tomorrow we’re headed to my Dad’s flight simulator club. They meet just the other side of Plymouth in a village hall. Apparently my appearance has been foretold - let’s hope this visit isn’t too awkward. Since starting my YouTube channel a couple of years ago I’ve somehow amassed over twenty thousand subscribers who look to me for guidance and tuition (huge mistake) - the struggle to stay a page or two ahead of at least a few of them is real.
This evening - after calling for Chinese food - the house has been taken over by “Strictly” (the UK incarnation of the celebrity ballroom dancing show). I’m making myself scarce, and writing this instead of railing against the scores of the judges.
On about writing, I had a bit of a wobble today about where I host my writing - edging back out towards Substack, which crucially isn’t a walled garden - unlike Wordpress and Tumblr, which only attract readers within the community of each platform. Since quietly resurrecting the substack reincarnation of the blog, it’s been picking up readers organically. For the moment I’m sitting on my hands, and cross-posting. We’ll see where it all goes.
Anyway.
Time to go pour a glass of wine and avoid Strictly for a bit longer. I hear the All Blacks are playing against Ireland tonight. Perhaps I’ll watch that instead. Yes, my middle-daughter has re-programmed me. I’ll be watching the rugby, and wishing I was at home to see her shouting at the television and arguing with the referee.