The little tribesman

A bad night's sleep, woke in a sweat at 1:30, and tried to sleep under a cellular blanket but ended up tossing and turning all night. Finally got back to sleep around six and then the alarm got me up at half past. The culprit, it seems, is an infection of the middle ears, Otis media on both sides, so no swimming until it clears. Make a full English breakfast, with black coffee, which I eat in the garden room. Wash, dress and drive to Sarah's, parking in New Walk, opposite Norfolk Street, before collecting Louis and walking him to school past Bleach Yard Stables, where mucking out is in progress. I lift Louis, so that he can see the horses over the gate, and then we trek the last 100 metres to St. Mary's primary school. After dropping him off in class and sharing a kiss and a cuddle, he makes a big deal of showing me off to all his mates. Louis' dad is not around due to severe bipolar disorder, and I guess I am a kind of substitute for him. His dad and I were very close. After dropping him off, drive to Cherry to collect Dolly and Teddy, and as I am loading them in the car, get a call from my friend, Felicity, she has had a migraine yesterday and has to have checks to ensure that it isn't a flare up of temporal arteritis, to which she is prone and which can be fatal. She won't be at the Poppy Seed this morning, which is why she rang. It's a lovely morning on the Westwood again, and I notice several hawthorn trees on the common blossoming in blazing pinky red, it's not really crimson. I have an appointment at Lloyds/TSB with Yvette, my account manager, at eleven and no Poppy Seed obligation now, with Felicity ill, so the dogs and I do an extra loop around the gorse bushes at the western end of the common. We arrive back in Cherry for 10:20, I drop them off, and then head into town and park outside St John's in North Bar Without, by about 10:30, and with half an hour to kill before my appointment, walk through town and buy a French stick, apples, oranges and strawberries, for Louis tea. En route back to the bank, I see Hannah, (aka, the great Dane), Felicity's best friend, who says she is taking her for tests to the hospital this afternoon. Arrive at Lloyds two minutes before my appointment, wait for five and am then ushered into a consulting office where Yvette procures a strong tea for me before we sort out my accounts. I arrive home for 12:30, and don't run as I will need all my energy for Louis, who I am collecting at 3:15 and then looking after him until half past six. Make a ham salad sandwich and tea for lunch and eat this with a pot of tea in the garden, having first hung out a line of shorts and polo shirts. It is hot again and I take shade beneath the sun umbrella and read a book, the latest from James Lee Burke, before setting off to fetch Louis at three. He is delighted when he sees me, and we arrive at the swing park in Tickton at twenty to four, having been held up at the level crossing for five minutes. The park is full of kids around Louis' age and there are swings, roundabouts, seesaws and climbing frames in abundance, but the main attraction is a yew tree next to the churchyard wall of St Paul's, which forms part of the boundary of the park. The kids climb the wall to get access to the higher branches of the tree and climb up and down like little chimps. Louis won't be five for another week, but he's unusually big and strong and I approve of his natural inclination to explore, even though there is some risk involved. I did the same at his age and there is a modern tendency to protect kids out of their childhood. After ten minutes or so two girls come back to say that he's stuck up the tree. When I investigate he's stood on a branch only three feet from the ground, I guide his hands and feet and teach him three point movement, the basic principle of climbing. You only move one hand or one foot at a time. He learns quickly and is quickly scrambling about the branches with the other kids. He could fall, but fear builds caution and overcoming fear builds character and confidence. At the worst he might sprain an ankle or break a bone, better than having a crippled spirit. He plays until five and then we race to the end of the field, I let him win, just. Then we race back, I am running in Sandals and he does win. We get back to my house for quarter past five and I get his water colours out and the cards that stiffened my Egyption cotton duvet sets, and we paint in the garden for half an hour before serving tea. Louis favourite is ante pasta with crusty bread and olives, followed by strawberries with yoghourt. After tea we paint for a little longer and then it's time to go home. We arrive at Sarah's at twenty five to seven, held up by another train at the crossing. His mum is home and I hand him over, happy, tired and ready for bed. And that's just me, Louis is a force of nature, a little hunter gatherer, he has to be civilised, but not too much, I hope. Back home I meditate but then fall asleep and don't wake until nine. His mum is taking him to school tomorrow.