Happy Midwinter Festival

From a cold and Snowy Buxton The Birdwatchers wish you a very happy Winters break. Good luck in 2010.

Kitchens, Doors Windows and Flu

I have been off with man flu all week. Its been odd. I keep on trying to do things and end up having to lie down again. Its been a difficult time to be off as Birdwatcher towers has been under going restoration and the upgrading of some of the basic facilities. So we now have a new kitchen, new doors and windows (at the back of the house anyway) and a very pissed off bank manager. Its all come together quite well. Of course Lilly our border collie has had a whale of a time barking at the procession of different people coming into the house to ply their trades. Makes a nice change from the postman, the milkman and the window cleaner.

Mrs BW has project managed it all of course. And a very good job she has done. I have kept a low profile coughing and sneezing with the flu and the extra dust. Still, it will all be ready for Christmas, and judging by by the weather at the moment it may even be a white one. Hey Ho, jolly times and no rugger for me tomorrow!

Paranoid or what?

We have an little devise from Scottish power that shows you how much electricity you are using. You're meant to be able to use it to save energy and money. Its getting on my nerves. If I am the last person to leave the house I check it make sure that I have turned everything off. I had to go back and check it fourteen times one day last week, just to make sure. Actually I was happy the thirteenth time but popped back once more because thirteen is unlucky for some.

Pointless things that I have said - No 275

"Is it okay if I borrow the laptop Dad?"

"Yes, as long as you bring it back."

What a stupid thing to say. What sort of answer did I expect.

"Okay I won't bother then as I was going to sell it later on ebay"

Actually what she said was "Ok, yes I will."

We do say stupid things sometimes.

SAD

Mrs BW thinks that the weather may be making me depressed. I don't want to disappoint her but I am a miserable old git all the year round.

Out in the wind and rain

The rain trickles down the back of my neck. I should have had my hood up. But hoods irritate me and make me look even scarier. Quite why that worries me when I am walking the dog in the Goyt, I don’t know. Apart from the occasional runner and dog walker hunched and hunkered down against the rain, there will be very few people out and about today.

I have my new walking boots on and they make a big difference. Lilly strains at the long lead. The rain and the wind don’t seem to bother her. She sniffs and scampers around the undergrowth scaring the grouse and putting them to flight, and then trying to chase after them when they fly across the valley.

I lose myself to my thoughts. I have a lot to think about. Its hard being a dad and its hard being the Weasel and only 17 but wanting so much to have the freedom to go out at weekends, to stay up all night and then chill on someone’s floor or with a boyfriend or whatever. Harder still when your friends, some of them at least, seem to have the freedom to do what they want and go where they want. We had agreed that she could stay out last night, we agreed where she would be staying and we agreed that she would be back by mid day, though this last bit went down like a lead balloon. I tried to explain that as far as I was concerned it was about knowing that she was safe and wanting to see her, to have some family time together. (At least she wasn’t sick on the spot).

I feel sad. I don’t know why. I did not sleep well last night. I lay in bed and thought about her and hoped that she was okay. It’s hard to let go, hard to get the balance right. But it’s more important that we talk and that she comes home and knows that she will be safe and welcome there. I know she needs to discover who she is and to make mistakes and of course to quote “to have fun”.

The wind and the rain intensify and I slip and slide down the hill side. Lilly has found some interesting smell and is hell bend on pulling me with her or over in her effort to get to whatever it is she has scented.

Time to head for home.

Alls Well that Ends Well....I suppose

4.00pm the Kitchen of Birdwatcher Towers on Sunday afternoon. The Weasel leans against the wall, twisting her hands and biting her lower lip. She is pale, and looks very tired. Mrs BW stands by the sink arms folded across her chest staring intently at the Weasel. I just stand there trying to look like the past eight hours have all been just part of a normal Sunday.

"You could have left a note" I say gently.

The Weasel looks at me and a slight smile crosses her face. She dares to believe that she might not be told off.

"I'm sorry " she says simply. I think she means it. She doesn't always. Sometimes she says sorry and injects a slight Amercian twang into the pronunciation. But not this time.

"Why the confusing texts? We thought you might be in trouble?"

She looks at me and then her mum and shrugs her shoulders. "No! Why would you think that?"

I start to explain, but feel to weary.

"Well you're home now and safe. You must be hungry?" The Weasel nods. "I'll make you some toast and then you can go and have a bath and a sleep before tea." Mrs BW pops a couple of slices of bread in the toaster and starts to make cups of tea. The inquest can wait.