Friday, November 27, 2009

Some Days Just Go Wrong From The Outset

I love the weather we've got today. It's cool, and dark, and rainy. I was awoken at 0630 by the rain intensifying, and the rumble of distant thunder. Since then, it's been thunder on and off all morning. Not the colossal, brutalizing sort of storms that Brisbane gets, but an almost gentle sort of thing -- blue-white flashes at the corner of your eye turn the world outside your window brilliant green for an instant, and then, a few moments later, the biggest, most basso profundo voice in the whole world chuckles for a minute or two. Lovely.

Mornings like that, especially on a Saturday when one can anticipate at least a little bit of a lie-in, are pure gold. And indeed, I was just in the process of demonstrating to Natalie the best way to celebrate such a marvellous opportunity when the sound of smashing glass intervened from downstairs. Whereupon Natalie instantly put on her 'Mum' hat and got out of bed.

Ah, well.

I decided to lie in and read a book for a bit. Even without company, it's still a fine thing to be in a warm bed at seven in the morning, enjoying a book while the rain and the lightning and thunder do the rounds outside. At least, that's what I thought until I heard the second round of smashing glass, and of course, the bout of recriminations that followed.

Still, I was dilatory in getting up and dressed, so I missed out on seeing what event caused the gales of helpless laughter from the breakfast zone. In fact, by the time I got down there, they'd nearly finished cleaning up the entire box of "Crunchy Nut Cornflakes" that Younger Son had inadvertently poured over the Mau-Mau's head. And yes, it was an entire giant economy-size type box, purchased only yesterday and opened this morning for breakfasting purposes. That's a lot of cereal for a small girl to wear.

The count so far: one drinking glass, dropped and smashed in the bathroom. One ceramic cereal bowl, dropped and smashed in the sun-room dining area. One box of breakfast cereal, liberally distributed over one bemused daughter. And of course, one beatific Saturday-morning thunderstorm lie-in, shot to shit.

You get that, I suppose.

This afternoon is dedicated to more orchestra crap. We have to be in Launceston for a practise, and then there's a three-hour gap before the actual recital. And of course, it'll be pissing down, so we can't take the kids to a park or anything. I've checked the papers: looks like we'll be seeing Cloudy, With A Chance Of Meatballs at the cinema.

Meanwhile, I've got a few hours to finish a story which is very nearly overdue. Hopefully I can do it before the kids get tired of the Wii and go berserk...