A better place to play

We had no plans, no place to be and with the weather intent on continuing its damp, grey monotony the children snuggled up to me as we chatted about the week ahead.

Hearing Noel Gallagher yesterday had taken me back to one night in the nineties where a few of us, who had remained after a house party, were crashed out on sofas after a great night and listening to ‘(What’s the Story) Morning Glory’ on repeat. Whilst I was always partial to Champagne Supernova, the opening lines to Don’t Look Back in Anger are a great way to begin a rock song:

“Slip inside the eye of your mind
Don't you know you might find
A better place to play”

The children put up with me singing the opening verse, before The Youngest gave us a nice blast of ‘Mary’s Boy Child’ in return as she’ll be singing this as part of her carol concert later this week, which I hope I am able to get to.

The weather was rotten, so aside from a quick drizzly trip into town for some Christmas shopping (see extra - bleurgh), we didn’t do much save for put the indoor wreath my mother had made up (main) and the wee ones helped me make an apple crumble (also extra).

We watched the bizarre farcical end to the F1 season and marvelled at Hamilton’s dignity in defeat - I can’t say that I would have been as cool headed in that moment, but then again these drivers are aware that the world is watching.

There was the briefest of magic moments this afternoon as I pottered about getting dinner sorted when I realised that the house was quiet despite the presence of the offspring. The Youngest was sat in a large cardboard box (spaceship) scribbling away whilst m’boy and The Eldest were up in her room drawing. I left them to it, stifling a sneeze so as not to remind them of my presence.

I’m shattered and basically running on fumes at the minute, but every time I start to feel sorry for myself, I think of those poor souls working in the NHS who have had no let up and precious little support over the last two years and I’m spurred on once more.

Context is a wonderful thing.