Brian went with them into Mwldan Dau while R8 and I saw Arthur Christmas in Mwldan Un. I really want to see War Horse but the trailer reduces me to such a sobbing mess* that I didn't want to embarrass myself or my children in public. Arthur Christmas was truly properly laugh out loud funny though and brought tears to the eyes for entirely different and much happier reasons.
Sunday was a day of doing catch-up jobs for Brian - a busy day from the darkness of dawn until well beyond sunset doing all the little jobs living on a smallholding (while holding down a full-time job with shifts) entails.
I meanwhile took my fledgling cold on a 10k run to frighten it away. The day was sunny but crisply cold with a frisky wind. Perfect for running.
I'd begun the day making wholemeal drop scones with maple syrup for breakfast. R8 arrived and took over part of the batter preparation.
"I'm not going to big school mummy," she announced, blending flour, milk and eggs.
"Aren't you?" I handed her the 50g of butter she had already weighed out and melted.
"No." She's emphatic on this point. Primary school is such utter perfection (despite the recent trauma of a broken nose she's deeply in love with every aspect of her school day). "No, I'm going to get a job instead."
"Oh?" Shall I tell her now that she has to go to big school? Perhaps not.
"I'll get a job as a..." she pauses to whisk the melted butter into the batter, "...as a chef."
 |
| Jamie. |
* Regarding War Horse. It's not so much the brave war scenes, although those would bring a big lump to the throat, it's the happy ending. I had a Joey of my own, called Jamie. A big conker brown bay thoroughbred.
I loved him like no other other horse (some of my fellow college students thought Jamie was human and my boyfriend and I didn't disabuse them).
Jamie was taken away for me not by war but by illness (he got navicular disease and had to be euthanased. It rather broke my heart.)
No schmaltzy reunion against the sunset for me. Hence the tears.
My brother felt the same about Cubs - to the point that he was allowed to stay in for an extra year before moving up to Scouts. Shame that doesn't happen with children and school......
ReplyDeleteI saw War Horse last week and as I was surrounded cheek by jowl with Other People I had to choke back the tears (though the worst bit for me was when they blew the whistle and went over the top. I thought of my husband's g. uncle and grandfather who never returned from the Somme . . . Some of the horsey bits annoyed me (Spielburg is amongst ALL those directors who think that horses whinny their way through difficult times!)
ReplyDeleteAs for Jamie - what a lovely lovely boy and I am sorry you lost him too soon . . .
I've been thinking about seeing War Horse, but it hasn't come yet. I certainly understand your potential for blubbering, having already lost Jamie (the love of your life).
ReplyDeleteSo, R8 thinks she wants to be a chef. Taking after her mom in terms of culinary matters. In her five-star dining room, "Dining is a game we can play" will likely be her motto. That's good.
Frigid day here on the Canadian; hope you see some sun.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteOh no tell her not to be a chef, long hours and hot sweaty places!
ReplyDeleteI had a Joey, a beautiful grey gelding, he kissed you if you stood by the door, great big wet tongue up and down my face, he too is departed, kidneys packed up at 22 years old no other will hold such a place in my heart.
I have seen War Horse the play 3 times cried each time a puppet died, I will go to the film if only to see Doug a friend who does most of Albert stunt riding, I cried at the book and the play and the very thought of it, so I am already on a roll. x