Monday, March 21, 2011

jet pack men

Current work: new Riva
Listening to: Daughtry
Reading: Suzanne Collins, Mockingjay (enjoyed very much – worked well, she was brave in how she handled the love triangle rather than taking the easy way out, and the epilogue was definitely needed. Also noted the name of the special soldier squad – a nod to Ray Bradbury, methinks.)

The book is finally behaving now I’ve changed the hero’s name – and I am very relieved.

Had a yen to go to the seaside on Saturday, as the weather was glorious (aka I needed to fill the well, and we haven't been to the seaside for weeks and weeks). DH muttered a bit about the cost of petrol, but caved in, and we had a really lovely afternoon at Cromer.

The sea was like a millpond.

Son found what he was sure was an axe head (probably not, bless him), and daughter found a really interesting stone with a hole bored through the chalky bit (and questioned whether a stick or an antler would once have been pushed through said hole so it could be used as a tool – ha, you can tell they’re the children of a history aficionado, can’t you?).

We had a wander along the pier...

...and the sun was glittering on the water. (How I managed to get it looking like moonlight on night water, I have no idea - but this was about 3.30pm.)

And just when we stopped to buy ice cream (I might point out that I opted for a latte rather than a gelato), two men came roaring past just above our heads with jet pack thingies and parachutes.

I don’t know what they’re called, but it looked like enormous fun. Son pointed out that there are weight restrictions for these things and James May was too heavy to wear a jetpack, so – ‘no offence’ – his father and I might not be able to do it. Gotta love him for trying to be tactful, LOL.

On the way home, the late spring sunlight had a very elegiac quality to it. My mood’s a bit up and down at the moment; dealing with the FC meant that I didn’t have time to grieve properly for my father, so the grief’s coming out more now. It’s the little things that are upsetting me: Easter eggs in the shops, and not being able to choose one for him. A patch of aconites (he loved the ones he could see in the fields just outside the nursing home). Even whippy ice creams eaten on the seafront, because it brings back childhood memories. I know it’ll pass and the first year’s the hardest, but I think people might need to be a bit patient with me for a while. And I will apologise in advance for any ranting.


Anonymous said...

paraponting is the sport.A number of years ago 2nd youngest brother had a go at a local beach near Invercargill (how's your geography?). He ended up with bone sticking out of his leg and so badly concussed that the doctor at the Emergency Dept warned that one more severe knock to the head...
But then again,imagine the danger there can be had in just getting out of bed in the morning!!!

Kate Hardy said...

Anon - thank you for enlightening me. (We saw another one yesterday afternoon...)

My geography is rubbish. I assumed Scotland, looked it up, and realised I was in the wrong hemisphere ;o)

Ouch on your brother (who may just have inspired my next hero, so thank you very much for the lightbulb).