Football and fracture

Louis sidles into my bed in the middle of the night, cuddles up and then goes off to sleep again, once the effect of the central heating has worn off and it starts to feel cold, I begin to cough, my old nemesis, bronchial catarrh, has returned. A glass of water and an extra pillow to raise my head helps, the spasm passes and I manage to sleep until seven thirty. Breakfast is easier this morning, as I now know where everything is and I took some frozen sausages out of the freezer to defrost last night. Breakfast is ready for eight fifteen and we persuade Alice to get out of her coffin, even though the sun has risen. She will be sixteen years old in April, naturally blonde and quite beautiful, although as her grandfather I might be a little biased. Louis and I bathe and dress, before walking Normy the other way round Seven Corners Lane, while Alice uses the bathroom. It is a clear sunny morning, although slightly colder than yesterday, but still warm for the time of year. Seven corners lane is walled with hand made, red bricks, that have weathered with age, and all kinds of wildflowers, ferns and mosses have made a home in the nooks and crevices, nature has created a masterpiece out of the built environment using only the slow magic of wind, rain and time. Periwinkle cottage, which is a recent addition, despite the name, is for sale. It's rear looks on to the courts of Beverley Tennis club and it's front across the Westwood to Beverley Racecourse and the Hurn, it won't be cheap!  Louis suggests I buy it, but it exceeds my means and I am happy where i am in Tickton. We return home for ten fifteen, I deliver Louis to Alice's care and then walk the twenty yards or so, to Saint John's church for ten thirty mass. Today is the 6th of January and therefore the epiphany of The Lord, I settle into my usual pew, compose myself and then pray for those I love, with special prayers for Leslie and Felicity. The ten thirty mass is sung and we have a lovely soprano and a majestic baritone in our choir, who help lead the congregation. Amongst the hymns for Epiphany is "The First Nowell", which the congregation really gets a hold of and delivers with passion. Father David gives thesermon this  morning, which is short and pithy, he says we have the choice, whether to act with loving kindness and compassion like Jesus, or to seek and defend selfish privilege, like Herod. Ajhan Sumedho, my erstwhile Therevadan Buddhist mentor, used to make a more subtle, but similar point, "he said that everyone has both good and evil thoughts, but we also have the freedom to choose which to act upon." Of course Buddhism teaches one not to confuse thoughts with self, but this is only possible with a level of consciousness developed in prayer/meditation. A thought returned to me after communion, that God's work, of making the world a kinder, better place, can only be done by humans, and that work is always close to hand. It starts with the people that we meet in the everyday, friends, enemies, families. For me practice is what counts, there is no need to travel to Africa or China to be an instrument of The Lord, our own families are a tough enough starting point and if we pass that test, we can then move on to greater challenges. After church, I change into my old cords and take Louis and Rebecca to the playing fields on Manor Road, opposite the doctor's surgery. Louis is so excited that he ignores my warning and rushes straight onto the playing field, which is still soggy and muddy from the recent rain, and promptly slips flat on his back. His clean track suit has to be seen to be believed, just plastered in mud, we manage to peel it off him, and fortunately he is wearing his red football strip, that I bought him for Christmas, underneath.  We then  adjourn to the five a side pitch that has a man made surface and warm up by jogging round the perimeter, then do star jumps and shuttle runs before beginning skill drills, passing the ball with the inside and outside of both feet. Rebecca is wearing a pair of fashion boots, but makes a noble attempt, Louis, as ever, just wants to go fast. We progress to dribbling and shooting and then, mercifully, some other parents and kids arrive and there is enough for a kick about. The other dads turn out to be much better at football than me and also about thirty years younger, so I volunteer to play in goal, which is popular with everyone, as I don't have to run anymore and am easy to score against. One of the mums used to look after Louis in the leisure centre crèche and she has a small, white, West Highland terrier with her, so Rebecca substitutes herself and plays with the dog. Sarah is due back from Harrogate around two thirty, so at two fifteen we call it a day and drive back to Sam's, where she makes drinks and cakes for us,  before I drop Louis off with his mum and apologise about the mud. It is now three o'clock and my low fuel lamp has come on, so I drive to Morrison's, where I buy a cooked chicken, fresh salad and a baguette for dinner and a packet of scones to take to Felicity. I fill up with petrol but have trouble with my Visa card, the chip and pin seems to be on the blink, so I have to sign a slip manually, before driving to Albert Terrace, where I give Normy a quick walk before knocking on Felicity's door. Her Grandson, Barney, is there, his mum and sister are shopping in town and the old girl is resting on her day bed, she is pleased with the scones and we share the, with a pot of tea and chat for ten minutes before Melissa and Ruby return and join the tea party. Norman, who hasn't eaten since breakfast, complains noisily when he doesn't get a share and is only partially consoled with the odd crumb. We leave around four thirty and drive back to Tickton to a cold house, I turned the heating off before we left, but it will only take half an hour to warm up. The weekend bag and the shopping are soon unpacked and then I make a tossed salad, carve some slices of chicken for Norman and I and serve it with crusty baguette and butter. As we finish a text comes in from Sarah to say Louis has a suspected fracture in his foot, fearing that he may have sustained it playing football, I phone her, but it appears he went over on his ankle later in the afternoon. The doctor has referred him for an X-ray in the morning, so Sarah is taking the morning off, but wants me to look after him from noon, and of course I agree. Although it would be highly unusual for a five year old to break a bone that way, as their bones are still so flexible. Time will tell!