Fathers’ Day

TODAY is Father’s Day….and, boy, is it easy to spot all the usual signs.

For a start off it’s raining, or it is here in Weymouth.

Having set a nice drippy, overcast theme, the day began in total silence broken only by my solitary footsteps downstairs to prepare my breakfast. Wife, son and daughter were all still upstairs asleep.

The gloomy theme continued with police clashing with protestors in Istanbul and the world’s entire supply of security fencing being put up for the G8 summit in Northern Ireland…where it was also raining.

One of the few rays of sunshine in the entire day was the fact I’d squeezed out enough spare time the previous day to mow all the lawns in the dry.

Cheered by the news that I was not the only one in the world having a less than perfect start to the day, I put on traditional English summer garb – a thick all-weather anorak – grabbed my umbrella and went out to cover a few jobs for my newspaper.

I still had enough time to do that and return home in the rain to the same silence. Everyone else was still in bed.

By the time I’d finished writing up my jobs my wife had surfaced…in time to request a swede from the supermarket “as you’re going there anyway”, so it was off out again to collect a few items from Asda in the rain before going to visit my father in the rain to deliver his presents and card which all went down very well.

It was still raining when I finally got home….by which time we had to get things together for daughter’s return trip to Nottingham University because we had to drive her to the railway station…in the rain.

Lunch followed indoors so it was dry and, incredibly, it was also dry outdoors, so as soon as we’d finished eating we all piled into the car and went out to the Lookout Cafe at Bowleaze Cove overlooking the Lodmoor nature reserve and the sweep of the Preston sea wall on to the Pavilion in the west and round the other way along towards Lulworth in the east.

More clouds initially but the sun slowly peeped through and we managed a nice cup of tea albeit firmly indoors away from a cold breeze which was sending clouds scudding overhead.

Better and better, England were playing a crucial cricket match against New Zealand and we won…it took six pints for them to win but a win is a win no matter how in or out of focus it ish!

So I’m sat here now, a nice pork steak evening meal comfortably inside me, and all I have to worry about is, will my daughter get home safe? She’s just texted us to say the white slavers haven’t got her, so perhaps I’ll enjoy a nice Calvados before kissing goodbye to another Father’s Day celebration where nearest and dearest do their best to give you a good time.

Oi, son! You sure the bar bill was that much?!

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