We took our granddaughter to watch the annual “Guy Fawkes Night” fireworks display at the local junior school last night – strapped to my front by perhaps the most elaborate baby carrying device ever constructed. It’s worth noting that I had no hand in buying it – it was dangled in front of me one night last week – “this is for you”. That sort of thing happens a lot around here.
We left early for the fireworks display – and were glad we did. In previous years we’ve arrived ahead of time, the fireworks have been late starting, and we’ve had time to grab a drink and something to eat from one of the many vendors on the school field before the show started. Not this year.
The show started at least fifteen minutes early – so anybody turning up at the advertised time would have missed the entire show. We also didn’t end up buying any food or drink because the queues were long, and the display started while we were in the queues. I imagine people that arrived at the advertised time would have been furious.
The nine month old charge strapped to my front was wrapped up like a polar explorer, and spent much of the display gazing up at the sky without much reaction. I think the rest of the family enjoyed watching her more than the actual firework display. Given that pretty much every experience of “the world” is a first time experience for her, it’s always interesting to see how she absorbs new sights and sounds.
Before long the display came to an end, and we all wandered home. Thankfully we only live around the corner. Along the way the house next door to us let rip with their own private firework display, which somehow sounded twice as loud as the commercial display. I did wonder if gunfire had erupted from their back garden for a moment before sparkling streaks shot into the sky overhead.
While wandering back up the driveway of our house I spotted the lady that lives next door and waved hello.
“The baby carrier suits you”
“It doesn’t suit my back!”
She laughed, and we made our way back indoors – back to the warm of the house – and set about untangling a certain little person from her harness, and then figuring out how to get me out of the harness too.
The rest of the evening – after eating a bowl of leftover stew – was filled with pretend aeroplane shenanigans – “flying” over three hundred pretend passengers from Seattle Tacoma to Calgary. After a couple of false starts (another story for another day), I looked up and it was 2am. Again.
I’m still not really sure how I got up at 8am this morning.
Actually – that’s not quite true – I do know. My other half appeared in the bedroom in a fluster – asking if I could ping the Air Tag on her car keys – she couldn’t find them anywhere. I ended up wandering downstairs with my phone leading the way – and was almost upon the keys when she found them – down the back of the cushions on the sofa – wedged perfectly such that the wailing Air Tag couldn’t be heard at all. It’s the first time I’ve ever had to track anything down with an Air Tag, and it worked far better than I thought it might. Very clever.
Anyway.
Today is Friday, and I’m looking forward to the weekend. Another week ticked off in the run towards January and the end to all things as I have known them for the last several decades. This morning – while sitting down in front of the laptop at 9am – switching it on, checking messages, emails, and so on – it struck me that this is all going to come to an end. No more timesheets. No more team meetings. I’ll be running to the beat of my own drum soon, rather than anybody elses.
I’m toying with joining the local gym. Certainly returning to running. Having the time to invest in myself will be a rare treat – let’s hope not too many nights ending at 2am in a virtual recreation of Calgary though.
I’m still undecided about how I’ll keep on top of the various plates I’ll be spinning next year – there’s a huge temptation to go back to a paper bullet journal. The thought of starting each day with a run, followed by a coffee, and half an hour noodling in a paper notebook is hugely appealing to me.
I smiled yesterday while scrolling LinkedIn – and wondered quite how my former colleagues will react when I announce my departure from the corporate treadmill.
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