I pondered whether to write my usual word of the week post. My week has been pretty mundane. You know the kind of week. Lots done, but nothing really to show for it, except plenty of lists and plans, but then it hit me. These next few weeks are actually anything but mundane. They are the run up to my eldest child leaving home. After 19 years of being here, she is about to take her next step. That is spectacular. Slow burn spectacular, but none the less, impressive.
The opposite to mundane.
I’m excited for her but at the same time dreading it, which is strange for me. Moving on and starting something new is a concept I embrace. It’s in my blood. I moved a lot as a child and was sent to boarding school from the age of 11, so I’m used to being independent and starting afresh in a new place. I’m always the person in the office excited to hear about a colleague’s next adventure, when they hand in their notice. Living vicariously through their plans, because I love the possibilities that a new start provides.
This is different. This is my child. Not me. A whole different experience.
I know we’ve prepared her. Given her the tools. She’ll be fine. No, scrub that. She’ll thrive and be home before I know it. Modern technology means we’re only a text, phone call or video meeting away. I am so excited for her.
(A far cry from the once a week airmail letters I’d send home to my parents at the age of 11. Not even phone calls were possible.)
So this week, we started the kit buying. I had to smile at the kitchen equipment. She’s cooking for one, maybe two, so everything is small. Frying pans, colanders look like they are made for a toddler’s play kitchen. More robust and heatproof, but still dinky compared to the ones in my kitchen.
Working out banks and other paperwork has had its challenges. We’ll get there. I insist on smiling through it all and not getting stressed out. I always have a plan B.
In between, I’m organising school uniform for Youngest. He’s the last one requiring one. Middle Teen is still going to school, but they don’t wear uniform in the sixth form. Youngest, needlessly to say, is growing. He now takes a size 7 in shoes, which seems to mean he’s too big for footwear that shops class as school shoes. He needs men’s shoes which are about a zillion times more expensive – ok twice as expensive.
Also took Middle Teen down to Cheddar to a drop in vaccination clinic, before school starts. It was the nearest place without driving through Bath. I thought it was a cool move. I could avoid the tourists clogging up the roads. Wrong. Why do I always blank out that Cheddar, famous for its cheese and Gorge, is a tourist attraction too? Driving up the Gorge, which is steep and bendy, behind a line of tourists while they look for a place to park, is not fun. Somehow, the spectacular view of the Gorge, along with my sense of humour, vanishes somewhere between 3rd and 2nd gear.
Anyway, I survived and Middle Teen is now jabbed. It was a different experience to the bookable adult sessions. Parents stayed with offspring. Small groups of teenagers went into the cubicles together. One gleefully squealed and ran in, dragging her friends behind her. I guess it may have been more to do with finally being at the front of the queue rather than the jab itself, but who knows. It was a long queue.
There were others who weren’t so keen. They wanted the vaccine but not the needle. I admired their determination. They jumped the queue and the staff were so reassuring. Out in the car park, I saw them relieved and smiling happily.
And finally the Moon. We went to Bristol Cathedral to see the Museum of the Moon. It is a seven metre wide sphere displaying the Moon surface. Each centimetre represents 5k of the Moon’s surface. The sphere is travelling around the country and there are duplicates touring the world.
We booked to see it in the evening, when the number of visitors was limited and it was illuminated. It was spectacular to see in the Cathedral.
Joining in Anne’s Word of the Week link up. Better late than never!