Tuesday, 1 February 2011

Times they are a changing

It's tumultuous times around the globe, and even in the world of Nota Bene very many things are changing. At home it's all for the good, although the challenge of getting where we want to is quite daunting. Of this more soon. At work, it's all for the bad, but then that is the state of the nation isn't it?

The Boy and The Cat have done their mocks, with, in most cases, fabulous results. And where they're not what the could be, they at least know where to focus their attention. The next challenge is to decide which 'A' levels to take, but that decision seems to be more about which degree they want to do, so things have to be done a bit arse about face. At the start of the process it all seemed quite easy, but as the day of reckoning looms, the picture gets ever less clear. The Cat's Mother and I can only offer so much guidance...and I knew I was way out of my depth when I suggested the boy got the Uni's to send him a prospectus...of course all these things are available on their web sites. the one thing that seems certain is that he won't become a marine biologist as predicted by a soothe sayer before he was born. Clearly she didn't realise that you needed two sciences at 'A' level to do that.

It was quite a peculiar start to the month today. I managed to punch a hole in the wing of my beloved Jeep...I thought I was being careful in reversing round the edge of a truck, but all I was doing was quietly gouging the metal. Ouch.



Then I had to run the gauntlet of the paparazzi...I know I'm a legend in my own lunch hour, but in this case it wasn't me they were snapping. I had to go to the municipal tip (yep, I was playing hooky from the office) which is situated by the Spurs practice pitch. It's not very salubrious, but there were TV and press photographers everywhere, so I can only assume in amongst all the Lamborghini's and Ferrari's was Mr Beckham.

I was a good boy scout when I left Waitrose - there was a dear old lady pushing a trolley up the hill looking quite distraught. She'd lost her car and thought it might be at the top of the hill, or round the corner. I jumped out of my car, and in my most patronising way asked what colour it was. "It's red, Japanese, a Nissan and the registration begins S997" I walked up the hill and round the corner, but it wasn't there, so I walked back to the supermarket. There it was right outside, so I helped her with her trolley back down the hill, and loaded the shopping in, I have a feeling she shouldn't have been driving, but that's for the authorities to decide. And she at least didn't have a hole in the nearside wing of her car.