Banging heads with Louis

Up by half past six and breakfast on kippers and toast, outside the spring like weather of sunshine and showers continues, the cool winds the most noticeable feature. We collect Dolly and Teddy for their walk on the common by a quarter past nine, I wear a light cagoule and carry an umbrella and a cap against the chance of a heavier shower and sure enough, just as I have swapped Dolly for Teddy on the lead, an ominous black cloud starts to sprint towards us from Burton Bushes, to our Northwest. We pause for a moment, the wind strengthens and then squally rain begins to whip across the open ground towards Black Mill. We retrace our steps and retreat into the shelter of the woods of Newbegin Pits, other dog owners are also sheltering there and we meet Poppy, the red setter bitch, who always comes and says hello, her owner is a young woman whose name I can't recall, who is a primatologist at York University. When we return to Two Riggs, I spread some lawn treatment powder by hand, another squally shower helping to water it in and then drive back to Tickton. The rain has now blown over and the sun has emerged again from behind the clouds, so I take advantage of the sunshine and hang out my washing, before driving to the Leisure Centre for my swim. The pool is not too busy, a group of mentally incapacitated young people and their carers are splashing happily in an area near the changing rooms. The far double lane has only one swimmer, so I secure a space by the lane rope and then reprise the programme I swam twice last week, 3 x 400m and then 4 x 200m individual medley and a 400m easy warm down. After my swim, I buy a pot of tea and a scone in the cafe and chat to Tania, who has returned from a "decorating holiday", she and her husband have repapered and painted the house. Tania pays me the £10 sponsorship, that I had already sent to Marie Curie yesterday. She tells me her generosity was prompted by multiple losses in her family to cancer. At a quarter past two I drive to the Library and return my books, which will become due during my holiday. I had not intended to take any books out, but am tempted by a book by Geza Vermes, "Christian Beginnings", a history of the early Christian Church, from the life and crucifixion of Jesus, to the treaty of Nicea, 300 years later. The resolve broken, I also pick up a tourist guide for Austria, a Philip Roth novel and "Wool", a new science fiction novel set in a nightmare Malthusian future. It is now time to collect Louis from Saint Mary's Primary School. The weather has dried up quite a lot and it is pleasant sitting on the seats with the other parents and grandparents until Mrs Wildbore and the children emerge from their classroom. She calls me over and firmly but politely requests that we persuade Louis to leave his football and goalkeeping gloves at home in future. She tells me this is the third consecutive day that he has brought them, despite being warned not to do so. I promise her to resolve the problem. It transpires later that it is peer group pressure, from the boys in year two, that is driving his misbehaviour. Louis is much bigger than his five year old classmates and tends to play football at playtime with the boys in a class above him. Apparently he is only allowed to play with them if he brings his leather football. After driving home and refreshing himself on Grandad Pop, we make our way to Tickton playing fields to play football. There are a few boys around and we manage to get a game going, we play three a side, Louis in one goal and I, gratefully, in the other. Unfortunately, because of the lack of numbers, we are playing a danger goalie system. This means the goalie also plays as an outfield player, but can handle the ball in his own goal area. There is great disparity in the relative sizes of the boys, the smallest is called Elliot, who is six and the largest, Connor, who is ten. As a consequence, I end up receiving a pass from Elliot and then tripping and falling, as I run towards Louis goal, unfortunately our heads collide as he dives to grab the ball and I hit the ground. I manage to turn my head at the last minute and cushion the collision with my right ear. Louis cries and I am momentarily winded, but we both climb to our feet, he with a bump on his forehead and me with a numbed and stinging ear and then carry on with our game. Around a quarter to five, two mums approach and take most of our players off to tea, so Louis and I play for another ten minutes, before returning home for tea. He plays a game called Temple Run on my iPad while I cook. We are having lamb burgers, with Haloumi cheese, salad, pitta bread and chips for dinner, which Louis demolishes with an appetite befitting his status as a small giant. After dinner we walk Norman down to the little bridge down Carr Lane and then "praise and pat", with him all the way home. At seven o'clock, we drive to North Bar and take Louis home, I have given him a large bottle of Grandad Pop, cream soda, and a tick chart, with which to record Norman's walks, while I am on holiday and he is staying with Sarah. When I return home, I try to read the Vermes Book, but I am too tired, not helped by the fact that the first chapter covers the ground of his earlier books, which I have recently read. At nine o'clock, I give in and go to bed.