Goodbye To All That

It was good while it lasted. For those of you who don't know, I start work on Monday as the constituency officer of our local MP and, yes, it is a proper, full-time job with an office and ties and pay and everything, just like I used to have and many of you still do.

I think it will be fun, and interesting as well, but I will miss my carefree existence. Well, I won't miss cleaning the house every week which is just as boring even if you try doing it the other way round. And not, obviously, spraying the eaves and window frames with noxious chemicals to reduce the herds of spiders hanging around, some poisonous, we think. Dealing with the invading mice, on the other hand, wasn't too bad. I found that the Australian equivalent of the Little Nipper mousetrap (proudly made in Bedwas) was a big improvement: it doesn't decapitate its victims so clearing up after a night of slaughter was relatively easy.

Ironically, I've only just discovered what seems to be an old codgers' surfing session on Sandy Beach which takes place after breakfast, if it's nice. I joined them this morning and it was all very sedate in contrast to going down after school when the air (and I do mean "the air") above the waves is full of youths on impossibly short and pointy boards. Something about 8ft long and rounded is de rigeur for the morning sessions. Ideally, any design on the board should be almost invisible under ancient layers of wax or faded to a mere suggestion from decades in the sun. Oh well, there's always the weekends.