Now, to make my excuses first, I didn’t remember it was DiTL day until mid-afternoon when I checked in with Twitter and saw the reminders, so this will be a bit sketchy and have no photos….
So, on with the day
I wake up at around 9 – hurrah, what a brilliant lie-in! – woken by 4yo telling me to go downstairs and have a cup of tea with Grandma. Yes, we are not at home, we’re on Scotland’s Paradise Island, staying at my mum’s house. So because I am nice, I leave Mr Rhubarb to continue sleeping and go for the cup of tea.
The next bit of the morning is taken up with tea, toast and Roses Lime Marmalade, settling arguments over who gets what from the mini cereal multipack, coffee, waking husband, tidying up breakfast, waking 9yo (who’d stayed up really late the previous night, partly due to her sister winding her up, but nevertheless had to get up eventually) and general mucking around.
By half ten, I’m wearing rollerblades. Oh yes.
I’m quite relieved there are no pictures of this section of the day. I have knee pads, elbow pads and wrist guards too – all in black, and I’m wearing head-to-toe black as well. I try to tell 9yo I’m a ninja rollerblader, but in reality, I’m a nearly middle-aged woman who’s mostly worried about breaking a bone. Me and 9yo go out to the promenade and skate up and down for a while. I’m surprised by how okay I get on – only one flailing arms around a bit moment, and total lack of grace when getting up from sitting on a bench admiring the view. The view is stunning. Little boats are bobbing around in the harbour, the sun is glinting on the sea and the mountains of Arran are clear in the distance.
Rollerblading’s quite hard work, so we don’t stay out too long. Mum and I are going to swap cars while I’m here so I can take her big jumbo car to go on our camping holiday, and she can use my much smaller and far less whizzy one. But it’s much cleaner! (only since I spent about an hour hoovering it before we came down to the Island – I think I had several kilos of sand in the back seats alone) So I take all the stuff out of my car and she takes all the stuff out of hers. We swap keys. She takes me a drive around the block while I explain how to put on lights/radio/windscreen wipers.
Lunchtime! Broccoli soup, toast, ham, cheese, avocado.
After lunch we head out for a walk – the dog is very excited to be at the seaside. He’s away and running as soon as the lead is unclipped, bouncing around in the long grass, paddling in the sea, hunting for dead seagulls to snack on, and meeting ‘n’ greeting everyone he passes. We walk around the bay, to the swingboats – the 4yo LOVES the swingboats. The sun is hot, the ticket booth radio’s playing decent music, and me, Mr Rhubarb and the dog sit in the sun watching the girls swing merrily for about a quarter of an hour. Not bad for £1.50.
Finally we lure them away with the promise of ice-cream. But first we go to buy a stripy beach windbreak. We choose a large one to take camping, so we can make a wee entryway into our tent. We’re so middle class, even our tent has a vestibule…
Next stop – the Ritz café. I choose a Turkish Delight 99, it is every bit as good as you’d think – even if 4yo suggests it tastes like soap. Philistine. We eat our ice-creams as we stroll along the front, me with the dog, Mr R with the enormous beach windbreak. We stop in at the island’s museum, in the Garrison, as 9yo has been asking about Wee Cumbrae, in the hopes she can find out who owns it and we can go camping there. (note to self: restrict access to famous five books for foreseeable future…) I let the others go in and find a shady tree stump to sit on and keep the dog company.
The rest of the family come back, we stop at the newsagent and buy The Beano and two bottles of water. Frankly, this is now resembling Crackerjack (pre-Stuart Francis, obviously, as he was the final nail in the Crackerjack coffin) and all we need is a savoy cabbage to complete the image.
I leave Mr R, the dog and the girls at the beach and go back to Mum’s to pack up the car. In addition to our overnight bag, we are taking home a large easel, some cardboard boxes, a metal bookcase, several carrier bags of general junk and the dog’s crate. Oh yeah, and the enormous beach windbreak, which turns out to be wider than the jumbo car, so has to be wedged between the front seats and extends all the way back.
Ferry, car journey, finally home. Oh shit. No milk. Mr R does mercy run, children watch TV, I hoover.
Children are palmed off with pizza for tea, we adults will eat later. Mr R suggests goat’s cheese salad, and I agree, full in the knowledge that it will actually be curry from a takeaway. This way we can all feel good.
I stick the number on the door frame. We bought it in Jerusalem about three years ago but have never quite got round to attaching it. Funnily enough, people can’t really find the house without it…
6.20 my new baritone teacher arrives! Hence the timely application of the door number. I played baritone horn *cough*30*cough* years ago, before going over to the dark side (flute) but have had a real desire to play again. So I hired a horn and found a teacher on the internet and here she is! She’s lovely, and although it’s slightly awkward, I think we do okay. After about 30 minutes of playing, my lips are all numb and tingly but I’m pleased with how it’s gone. I have lots of practice to do, I’m sure my family/neighbours are pleased to know.
The girls and Mr R are playing wii sports resort, so I go and join in for a while, then start to pack the kids off to bed. This bit takes SO LONG I am going to skip over it. If you’re still reading this far, you’re probably grateful for this decision.
So, current state of affairs: It’s 9.55. Mr R has gone to clear some more stuff from his Mum’s house and will get the curry on his way home. The kids are in bed. I’m going to go and look in the fridge to see if there’s any wine left in the bottle in there. We’ll probably watch Murder She Wrote (I have a boxset!!) and do a bit of computer-y work each before heading off to bed too late.
And that’s my Day in the Life!!! Thanks to Mooosh for organising it, and all the twittering people who reminded me to join in