I finished my week’s stint in the shop today. I found it quite tiring, and it was hard to get going this morning. It wasn’t helped by my wakefulness at 4 am, wondering if it had been wise not to order peaches and nectarines – they are past their best and losing a juicy texture, although they taste good, and I had decided the leftover trays from yesterday were enough. I was happy about it at midnight when I went to bed, so why did it dwell on my mind when it was too late to do anything about it?
Anyway, I got up and did whatever you do at 4.45 when you can’t sleep. I can’t remember. I do remember picking spinach at 7.30.
Today is Pugsley’s first birthday. They arrived home just before 5 (pm) and Al wondered if he should come and help me pack up. His father, rightly, said no. He’s on holiday until tomorrow night when he phones in his orders.
When Squiffany was one, we bought her a train set. For Pugsley, we bought … wait for it … a train set. Unimaginative? Us? I Think Not. It is the same sort, so they can build a big track or each build their own. Our own children waited until they were a little older and then received 50s clockwork trains.
When I was a child, I’d have loved to have received boys’ toys. I didn’t like dolls and things and mostly read, played board games and did jigsaws. I did a lot outdoors too, in case you are dismissing me as a complete dull thing, just so long as it wasn’t labelled Sport. I’m afraid that team games and other hearty things were seen, by the lofty and appallingly arrogant Z, as things done by unappealingly hearty people who sucked up to Games mistresses. Anyway, I never had a train set, so I had to rectify matters with my own daughter. I didn’t encourage any Sindy or Barbie nonsense either, although proper dolls would have been permitted if El had shown any interest.
Anyway, I still maintain that boys’ toys are more fun than girls’ toys.