We had a very long overdue trip to Chesterfield today. Believe it or not Linda has so far avoided meeting my parents. This wasn’t a deliberate decision on anyone’s part, living in Walsall, having a hectic, fun-filled life and recent events just conspired against us. The first port of call was to pick up my daughter who had been to college and give Linda a lightning fast drive-thru (I know how to spell through) tour of Chesterfield, pointing out interesting things like old buildings and dangerous places.
I wouldn’t normally blog stuff like this but visiting my parents (and sister) used to have comedic value. By a bizarre twist of fate, involving failed businesses, failed relationships and asset realising council decisions my Mother, Father and Sister all lived in top floor flats in the same courtyard all overlooking each other. To visit one and not the other would rarely go unnoticed and choosing the wrong order of visitation would have dire consequence. My Mother who was a keen gardener had a variety of potted plants on the balcony walls, strategically placed to fall on the unwary three floors below. My Father was always careful of his route when taking Ben, a dog the size of a horse, for a walk but the sound of a rattling choker would always raise the alarm. I could probably write a good sitcom on the material gained from flying visits. Of recent times my Father was given the opportunity to get a ground floor flat but by going in with my sister and the boychild Josh, they secured a semi in a rural but not particularly salubrious location. However she (they) have made a pretty good fist of what they have been given but I wonder if this has left my mother a little isolated in their absence.
My Father is in full training for his yearly role of Father Christmas, which means growing his beard and eating food but he was in fine form and looking a lot better than recent times, my sister was also in fine form as was Josh the wonder baby. Josh is now three and a half and is actually pretty amazing, he is also quite a charmer when not using a toy chainsaw to decapitate close family members. All in all it was very good to see them again.
A quick dash across town and we arrived unannounced at my Mother’s flat. Unannounced as the phone had been left off the hook all morning so we couldn’t let her know we were coming. Again she was looking better than the last time I had seen her, perhaps the common denominator was me staying away in the Black Country. We chatted for a while on this and that, sort of put the world to rights and then headed off to collect the Jafro boy for the weekend and retrieve my camera from Kayleigh. She had been test driving it to see if it was worth spending the money she got for her 21st birthday on one. I think she liked it but maybe the jury is still out on committing her prezzie cash on one.
Whilst we were at Chez ExWife, I borrowed Connor’s bow and tried out something that had been bouncing around in my head. By shooting the bow right handed I can set my knackered elbow at the reference point and push the bow away from my face. In effect drawing the exact opposite to how you would normally draw, putting your bow arm out and the pulling the string back. His bow is set to 30lb which is half what I used to shoot but far better to smack myself in the face with a lower poundage bow than a higher poundage one. Anyway, it worked surprisingly well, well enough to give it a try in anger. However this doesn’t discount the reasons why I swapped to crossbow which were the worsening back problems caused by my failed stunt monkey spine breaking impression a few years back. However it may be worth giving this an extended test down the practise ground. All I need is a donated right handed compound bow. Any offers will be kindly accepted.
Tomorrow Jafro and I are travelling to London on a secret mission, the details of which cannot be revealed at this time but as we have an early start I had better get this published, night all.