In these dog days of summer I find myself reaching for anniversary issues of the Bodhi Tree for inspiration and there, Friday 2nd August 2013, I found something that reminds me how little things have really changed and indeed what a dull old life I lead. Three years ago I was telling you about a trip to the Suffolk seaside, pony club camp and a night with the Kaiser Chiefs at Newmarket. Bingo. Good to go!
It so happens I’ve been struggling with a sore back this week legacy of a pathetic – albeit successful I might add – bit of showing off to Bob’s friends when we went down to the coast to water-ski on the River Alde near Orford. I popped, first time – this some seven years after I last skied - out of the water and carved rhythmic and decisive turns across the wake at 33mph. I have no photographic evidence alas, but if you could see me hobbling about and grimacing manfully you would be in little doubt it must have been an impressive performance.
Someone else was in pain last night. Lottie came back from Pony Club Camp predictably exhausted. So exhausted, and don’t tell her I told you this, she burst into tears when I gave away the ending to the latest film version of Cinderella which I found her watching when I got home from a hard day at the office. I was probably being quite annoying come to think of it.
And was it last weekend? Maybe it was the Friday before, but we went to Newmarket racecourse to watch a couple of moderate races followed by a concert with Busted….Has this ever happened to you? If so pray tell me what to do about it, but I’ve had their song “Sleeping with the Lights on” going round and round in my head ever since. Don’t tell me to switch them off. Something useful please.
Talking about getting Busted, I nearly didn’t see the concert actually. I was minding my own business over a bottle of rose in the Jockey Club Rooms when my phone rang. It was Lottie. “Can you come. We’re by the parade ring. There’s been an incident.” I slugged back my glass and was up there like a shot, my imagination running riot at what trouble they might be in given the number of drunken hoodlums about the race track. There she was, my little baby darling and three girl friends of hers, surrounded by a posse of men in high-viz jackets. Turned out that Bob had bought one of them half a cider from the bar. The fact that the girls were only 15 and were drinking alcohol in a public place was a big big sin for which, as the “responsible adult” in the absence of Bob, who it transpired was watching proceedings from behind a tree, I was blamed. Why hadn’t the girls just claimed it was an Appletiser was my first thought, but I stifled that, apologised profusely and we escaped with a rebuke and not the ejection which was being threatened. I’ve got mixed feelings about this though. I mean the law is the law. Got to be respected. Plus it would have meant I don’t have that cursed song ruining my life. Here….I can’t resist but don’t tell Sophie….
youtube link - getting busted=
bit of a quiet one……
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