Socks

I don't think I'd be wrong in saying that for most people with school age children, mornings can be anything from a rabble to a nightmare. In our house, as soon as we peel our weary selves out of bed, its all systems go. Showering, making lunches, finding school clothes, threatening the kids who won't get out of bed, etc etc etc.

This morning, I got up a fraction early, feeling a little more ready than usual. I ironed Roy's clothes and was pleased with myself for getting a few loads of washing done the night before, so I could actually find something for myself to wear.

I was happily having my shower, when Roy poked his head in and asked if I had washed any of his socks. I replied that I had only done darks, but that I think he had several pair in his underwear basket (a new system I am using to sort everyone's easy to lose undergarments). He informed me that they were sport socks, not the long socks he wanted.

Now, I dare say, MOST men would just deal with this situation. They would wear a dirtied pair or wear the sports socks, but NOT Roy. The next thing, I feel the shower go cold. I said, "Have you got water on?" Reply: "Yes, I am washing a pair of socks." Now Roy has a tendency to exaggerate, so I laughed and asked if he'd put anything else in the load. "NO." I was still giggling because I didn't believe him.

So, I hop out of the shower and went to investigate. I open the lid to the washer and sure enough... there is one pair of socks swishing away in half a tank of water. Even the laundry softener liquid has been added. "ROY!!!"

"What, they will wash quicker with less stuff in the machine."

"No they won't."

So, being the kind that cannot waste that much water, I scramble around for a small load of 'other' socks that HE might want for tomorrow and a few other whites that would fit in the load. In the end, the socks got cleaned and dried, well sort of. I think there was a slight wetness in his shoes this morning. I am still laughing about it. :P

Nothing Funny or Light

I suppose having a baby, bringing new life into the world gets me thinking about numbers. Ages in particular. I work out that when I’m 70 the baby will still be in their late 20’s. I do worry about things like that, although I do feel very young at heart and having had a string of medical tests, which came back with good results, I feel confident that I won’t just keel over. Problem is you just don’t know what’s coming ‘round the bend.

Honestly, I’m not that concerned about mortality or aging. What this does get me thinking about is family or more so the dwindling numbers of my family. How Heather and the baby haven’t met certain family members who helped make me who I am. Heather says that she can see bits of my dad, uncles and even my mum in me but it’s not the full picture. It’s just I wish she could have met the people who have died and who had the greatest influence on me.

My Uncle Jeffery was a man who loved sport, gambling, laughing with three wild sons, stirred up constantly by him and a loving wife whom he was devoted to. He died five years ago from cancer. He was only in his late 50’s. I always wanted to have a marriage like theirs. They didn’t hide their love and joy for each other from anyone. Of course they had bad times but their love was stronger then any disagreement. I feel Heather and I have that. I just wish that both Heather and Jeffery could have met as she could see a little of what she was getting into and I’m sure she'd want to be a part of it.

My Da died during first term of 2008. About a month or so later Heather and I were together. The thought of them never meeting really chokes me up. We have both visited his graveside and I get overcome with emotion with Heather by my side while visiting him. Heather would have laughed at his sense of humour, or his perceived sense humour. Da loved his family and put up with everyone’s egos and tempers with a smile. He held the family together with his love and understanding of us all and a quite inner strength that made us all feel safe. He showed enormous strength when fighting cancer and an aortic aneurism. He proved a hard man to kill. He loved his family coming together for all occasions especially Christmas. He loved getting presents. Da gave so much I don’t think anyone objected to him enjoying receiving presents. Even then the enjoyment and gratitude he showed when getting presents would give the giver such satisfaction and joy. It was his gift to us all.

I can keep Uncle Jeffery and Da alive by showing Heather and the baby the lessons and gifts these two great men gave men.

I love you Heather.