Saturday, January 28, 2012

Operation Greenhouse


I'm having a retro moment - it's all in my head of course - where I might add, the best sensations live. It's Saturday night, I've come in from the cold which has come to whoop our asses from the east; The Beast from the East to be exact and it ain't in a partying mood.   Bitterly cold winds from Siberia are menacingly whistling around the damp streets of West Hamstead; We're lucky to have made it home at all.   Hair still wettish from the swimming pool - where The Lish has turned a watery corner and is now able to jump into the pool without aid (Hooray!) -  we open the door to a roasty toasty home.  I stop to check I am actually at the right address.  Then I hear it: a supremely self-pitying sound of a sniffle.  The Silverback is unwell everybody.  Call an ambulance!  Call the BBC!  Get the editor of The Times to hold the front page!  And when he isn't well he turns into the polar opposite of his usual Tundra temperature-loving self.  No, tonight you can happily sit in a G-string and vest in any room of the house such is the average current inside temperature.  Under no other circumstances would I ever be allowed to have a house warm enough to grow pineapples in.  But hey, I am not complaining.  I'm in heaven.  It's shitty, dark and damp outside and I'm sitting tapping this drivel out in my shorts.

Adding to the lusciousness of it all is The Lish herself, come to join us in the humid tropics. Not one to waste the hot occasion, The Silverback has put on a load of washing which is now steaming in the heat. Since he isn't well - did I say? The Silverback is ill, he is too weak to fight his TV corner so Lish Losh gets to watch old school cartoons (Frosty The Snowman....how ironic!) while Sausage Fingers languishes on the couch as if just having awoken from a coma.  And all of a sudden, I'm transported to my own childhood when Saturdays were all about sitting around together each sort of doing our own thing but united in silent comfort and familiarity.

Many a weekend I have sat in my jim jams watching Tom & Jerry while mum ironed in the glow of the lights shooting out of the TV.  I didn't know it then but those evenings, it turns out, are some of the happiest days of my life!!  And tonight for 5 minutes - I'm transported back there. It feels nice.

I guess, in the simplest way, the best things in life really are (almost) free (electricity and gas bill aside).

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Make January stop please!

My god January is dragging isn't it?  I don't remember it being quite as drab last year but then I don't remember what I did this morning.  I think everyone is aware of how utterly loathesome this month has been so far with its shitty sideways rain and pus coloured sky.  What is the point of this month? I ask you?  Mind you, people are trying their best. Just today the management (of the place where I work) sent an email round announcing lunch would be on them until payday - that's 3 days away and it may not seem like much but it is better than a kick in the teeth no?.  We are to collect a five pound voucher from HR for each day whenever the fancy takes us.  I guess watching staff slowly wither away on a diet of toast and baked beans was too much.  This is in a company that provides free bread...so actually it would appear people are down to a budget of 23p per day; the price of a single portion sized tin.  Jesus!  Could it BE any more depressing? 

Well yes it could.  People continue to starve in Africa, others are being blown up in the Middle East and Asia and the number of homeless in Piccadilly alone has very visibly risen since last year.  Christ only knows what other suffering is going on.  So you know, it's worth still being aware of all the things we do have on our half of the hemisphere.  And be grateful.

I do have to keep going back to the value of the simple pleasure.  This evening for example I managed to get just the right measure of olive oil and lemon juice for a vinaigrette that I found so delicious I didn't bother with the salad - just simply mopped it up with a metre of bread (so the diet is coming along gloriously).  I also managed to hold a crow position (nightly yoga practice) for the longest time to date and higher than ever before.  The aim being to eventually be able to push up into a hand stand...sure...For those of you who don't know what a crow pose looks like - well it's looks like this:

And when you get really good, it can transition to this:

Until eventually you can get really cocky and do stuff like this:

 
Me?  I'm about here:
which is still better that sitting around eating pizza right?
On the subject of doing ok - I've managed to keep the weekly swimming ritual going since announcing I would be stepping the parenting up.   I am proud to say that The Lish has come a long way since that first Saturday where she practically severed my arms with her vice-like grip.  Now she doesn't want me anywhere near her (as long as she has her noodle and two floats) but this is progress indeed.  This week I'll be teaching her to put her head under water.  Wish me luck. 
Another wonderful side benefit of the whole swimming - active thing is - well actually two things are: 1. This whole thing of conquering fears etc...has caused a massive step change in Lish's overall levels of confidence which was at a cripplingly low level (hereditary I'm told...her father, yes The Silverback - if you can believe it - was the same) and 2. I'm just having so much fun with her and creating lasting memories. Even if I do have to consciously avoid thinking about the amount of child piss I'm wading through. 
See, I really don't think I ever did anything with my poor over worked mum (outside of watching telly) but to be fair she was always too tired to do anything at the weekend and I do totally understand.  Besides I can't miss what I never had and so I don't.  She gave me so much more in other ways.

So now, Lishy looks forward to our Saturday swimming mornings at Swiss Cottage and it's great too for me to know that I am relied on to make this happen.  It's nice to be wanted so obviously.
Even if it does involve other children's urine.


Saturday, January 7, 2012

Push to activate

So this is what responsible parenting feels like.  I took the Lish swimming today - well I say swimming, it was more flapping on a foam float.  See she doesn't know how to swim and isn't too keen on water generally (my fault entirely for relying on DVDs and TV too much).  But I decided that 2012 was the year to undo the damage of infant sloth.  I've been selfish.  In my pursuit of a "quiet" or "easy" life I shamefully allowed Lish Losh to notch up hours and hours of TV.  But it occurred to me recently, especially when school called to say she could do with extra coaching to get her reading up to scratch that I was in fact raising a "hoodie".  It's ironic because reading and writing are the other two passions of my life (after yoga) and actually truth be told reading and creative writing were my first loves and my best friends growing up an only child in a single parent family.  I'm making myself sound so cool right now it hurts to be me.  Her dad too (not the only child weirdo thing).  He's more of a book geek.

In the same way Jimi Hendrix's son is tone deaf I guess kids don't always inherit the bits you like about yourself.

Luckily punk music came along and saved me from myself and a life of total exclusion though I will admit to absolutely loving my own company still.  Lishy I doubt will be that lucky.  First off "music" and its related "scenes" have been replaced by reality TV and the cult of "celebrity". I can't allow Lishy to fall into that "something for nothing" culture. 

So it was swimming today and there will be skating next week.  I'll make an upright citizen of her yet.  That's two things, the very thought of which used to send her into a catatonic rage but now she can't get enough of.

This has also mobilised my mind too.  I get up with a purpose on a Saturday - none of this faffing around in a towelling robe until midday followed by aimless high street commercialism (the sales don't count; Sales are sensible).

As for Sunday - well now that's a different matter.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

I don't need to win, I just need to place

In stark contrast with the last couple of years where I have seemingly had nothing better to do than update my blog over Chrimbo and New Year's Eve, this year, I guess I had something better to do (either that or I'm clearly handling having nothing better to do ...better).  Which is good. Really good.  And another sign that I've been making good decisions lately.  Can that be true?  Time will tell I suppose.

And so we wave goodbye (or more likely give the finger to) 2011.  Personally I did very well last year- all things considered.  I managed to stay employed the whole year, I even won an award for it and if the dire forecasts about 2012 are to be believed - and they are truly vile - going by the past year's formula, I could be looking at my best year ever.  So roll on 2012.

This is the year I make director and if not, then I'll take the fork in the road and cut down to less time in the orifice and more time 'on the mat' and with The Lish.  All or nothing.  Make or break year. No (more) time to waste - think I achieved that goal in my 30s.  Anyhow, these are my professional goals for what they are worth.

In the meantime, life goes on. As it always does whether you like it or not.

On a personal level, I'm setting a very straightforward goal.  Aside from love and world peace I'll be laying groundwork for a future that does not involve weekly trips to the headmistress.  Let me explain.  It has become evident that I have a very headstrong daughter who will avoid anything that requires anything but the most minimal effort and even then, it's a struggle.  So this year will deliver a little motivational injection of self-drive (even if I have to administer it with a taser gun).  The Lish will shortly start weekly swimming , gymnastics and ice skating lessons in a bid to reverse the effects of 5 years of Nickleodeon.

By the same token, I'm also hoping to nurture a creative gene in The Silverback.  I got him a Ukelele for Christmas - cruel I know for someone with such large sausage fingers and so little natural rhythm.  Still, if Sid Vicious could do it.....you have to start somewhere.  Unbelievably he does seem to have fallen under its plinky plonky spell though that could be down to sheer post Christmas boredom.

Ok, enough cogitation for now - I have places to force people to go.

Happy New Year Y'all!