a blessing and setbacks

How are you? I gather the rugby was not that brilliant. J2 said England played really badly and it was a boring game. However, he had a nice time in the pub for 4 hours before hand – a former theatre – and enjoyed getting his face painted.

Rosie the lodger is turning out to be a blessing. Last week she cooked us all a curry. This had a real twang to it that according to FP was probably cumin and ginger. Then she made this giant pot of rice pudding that looked like concrete and all of us politely declined for being too full. Luckily she went out to some girlfriends’ house the night afterwards and took it with her. I hate rice pudding.

One of the interesting things she told us is that she has borrowed over £100,000 so far for her studies. I was just gobsmacked, but the difference is, her starting salary once she qualifies will be £120k, which I guess means she will be in a position to pay it back. She says this is standard in the US and hers is particularly high because she has had a lot of private education. I’m not sure whether this is because she hasn’t got the grades and therefore has to pay more for it or because she prefers private. She seems to have befriended a lot of obscure foreign potentates’ offspring – as you do. Rosie says it’s still quite normal for people to still be paying off study loans in their 50s. I am also, for some reason, avidly reading the save and spend section of the Independent where lots of people write in for financial advice and so many of them have debts in 5-6 areas – house, car, study, 3-4 credit cards –it’s phenomenal. My mum would turn in her grave.

J2 got his report which is quite good although it says he should try to look smarter and not get so easily distracted. I went to the options evening with Mr Fenton’s (headmaster son of Alvin Stardust) master plan for fast tracking this and that and the other so young people end up with 2/3 A/S levels before they even get in to the VIth form. J2 is already doing GCSE ICT and RE. I don’t agree with all this hothouse stuff. J2 is doing mainly ‘easier’ subjects, but he does want to do triple science. I am not sure they think he is good enough. J2 makes me smile. He is SO sorted about what he wants to do and exactly where he is going to Uni – Cardiff – and living year 2 with his dad to save money! I don’t think he will change his mind, but you never know.

I went for lunch in Ashwell (a lovely old pub opposite the beautiful church) with James (for Scarman supervision). He told me all about the Da Vinci Code (the second person who has explained the plot to me recently) and the latest stages, or at least the non-secret bits of becoming a mason. We are working on our Testbed Learning Communities project – £58k a year – this is not my salary for doing it! I have to identify and then support Learning Organisers in the 6 counties. I think James is beginning to enjoy it and may not go back to HMS Excise in June after all, but stay another year.

The tree snipper came and did a good job. It was quite funny because our neighbour came out when he was cutting down our side of the willow and asked him if he would cut the top off. When he said he would, but would charge him for it and not me he got all sniffy. Early last year when I had to get the guttering done out the front a similar thing happened. He asked the guy to repair something on his side of the house too and then got very bolshy when the workman tried to get some money out of him! I am pleased with his garden pruning and he was very cheap.

My building project sems to have snowballed. I have been up at the crack of dawn half way across town to an industrial estate loading up the car with floor tiles for the kitchen. The house is awash upstairs with fine white powder from regrouting the bathroom and downstairs with grey dust from the kitchen floor tiles.

I saw Siobhan on Thursday. She was about to go off to Lowestoft for a ‘Tamla’ adults only week-end at some holiday camp. Her new partner is skiing, her son is heading for a nervous breakdown dealing with his ex-live-in love who is taking him to the cleaners and she is up and down, but not on the pills.

I’ve made a decision about the holiday and much to A*’s disgust who thinks I have totally compromised myself, I’ve booked to go with FP and a coming and going stream of his children, my children and their friends to a large farmhouse in Sicily that sleeps 9. I blew Sao Tome out the window by spending a more glamourous holiday deposit on my building projects and even abandoned China for the comfort of FP, his chilling ability (who else other than me would cope with external equanimity with hordes of irate, whingy adolescents?), his cooking skills, the fact he likes getting a sun tan and doesn’t do moody in hot climates. Actually it will be nice, because we can get very cheap air tickets for the older ones and they can come for a few days until they get bored and it will ensure that the dynamics between the 3 younger ones don’t settle into world war 3. I can also practice my Italian which used to be fairly fluent and subsume myself in the culture, go horse riding solo or with Ali and drink a lot. FP’s ex-wife has got her way with them not going anywhere too exotic, FP has me for company and to do the direct talking with his kids when they start feuding and I’ll go to China next year. FP is teaching me not to be a NOW person.

Nothing is simple. I got back home last night to find they have laid half the kitchen floor tiles a totally different colour from the other half. The builders are blaming the tile suppliers and say they didn’t notice the difference because of the dust on them!

Thank goodness I am me and know where to seek advice on these things. I rang up the Citizen’s Advice Bureau who informed me that under the Sale of Goods Act 1979 the retailer should not have given me the wrong colour tiles and the fitter should have paid proper care and attention. Anyway, I’ve rung the tile people who will reimburse me for the tiles and I haven’t paid the fitter – so watch this space. Unfortunately it’s grief and hassle I could do without.

Tomorrow I am taking J2 to the hospital for his annual ‘why am I not growing?’ check-up. Some years he does grow – other years – last year – he didn’t. He has got some complicated growth deficiency.
The rest of the week I have various evening meetings, my tile issue to address and J1 is off skiing on Friday. I forgot to tell you that he has been driven in to twice now. On Friday night a Thai bloke crashed in to him, same place as previous bents, in his audi. He wants to pay for repairs off the record so the car goes in to the garage on Friday too.