May the force go with you!

Monday morning is cool and overcast, a pleasant respite from yesterday's heat, but the low cloud, which has drifted in from the North Sea, ten miles away, is due to burn off by early afternoon. Betty and I have agreed to walk the dogs early again, in order to avoid the anticipated heat, so after a breakfast omelette for me and Bakers for Norman, we set off at a quarter to nine, just as the children are making their way to school. One of the little girls from Normy's fan club waves to us, as we head down to the snickett and onto Carr Lane. As it is so much cooler and fresher this morning, we walk the whole way round the fields and Norman handles it with aplomb. Already the wheat is starting to ripen and the farmers will be hoping the good weather holds, so that they can harvest it before the autumn rains arrive. It is late because of the exceptionally cold spring. When we get back, Betty invites me for a cup of tea, as she has written out her address and phone numbers for Sarah in order that she can be contacted when it is time for my daughter to deliver Normy, the day before she and the children fly to Portugal.. Betty's daughter is also called Sarah and is marrying for the second time in September. Betty tells me she ended up buying a wedding suit for her son, during the visit for Sunday Lunch, yesterday. Over tea she also shows me the brochures for the National Geographic, Antarctic expedition, that she is going on in January and tonight she has another kayaking lesson at Albert Avenue baths in Hull. I tell her about Jill's son from Australia and how he is also a keen canoeist. We arrange to walk the dogs together on Thursday morning at the same time, as I am away in Birkenshaw tomorrow and Betty is attending "The Great Yorkshire Show", in Harrogate on Wednesday. When we get home, I put on this week's washing and then iron a pair of chinos and a blue shirt to wear at the solicitors tomorrow, a little gravitas is in order for our first meeting. As it is Monday, I am due to collect Louis from Saint Mary's Primary School at 3:15, but I need to fill the car with diesel and wash and clean it before I go. Unfortunately there won't be time for a swim today, but I manage to vacuum clean the car before driving to Morrison's, where I buy a baguette and Grandad Pop for Louis and a pack of 480 tea bags to take to Holland for my brother, Graham. Whilst I am there, I fill up with diesel and then cheat by putting the car through the Polish, hand car wash, for £6 and even have time to drop a prescription at the doctor's on my way to collect Louis. We take the shopping home, let Norman into the garden and then walk to the play park by the village hall. The sun has now burnt off all the cloud and it is sunny and very hot. I have packed some pop and fruit for Louis, to keep him hydrated and fuelled until it is time for his dinner. He is having ante pasta again, what else! There are lots of children for him to play with and so I have an easy time, chatting  to other parents and grandparents, whilst sitting on a bench in the sun. After half an hour, a group of older boys arrive, their bus has just dropped them off, and they start a football match on the field. Louis leaves the toddlers and volunteers to play in goal for them, but they are between twelve and fourteen and he is only six, so they don't want him to play. Louis stages a sit in and squats in the middle of the pitch, telling them that they are mean, so I have to intervene and carry him, protesting, from the pitch, to the thanks of the teenagers. Fortunately two boys, about Louis' age, have arrived, who he knows. One is called Jack and the other Oliver and they agree to play football with him. Louis is in goal, as usual, and Olly and Jack take it in turns to shoot penalties against him. The only problem lies in the fact that Louis has chosen to use a section of the fence, that separates the playing field from the Village Hall, as a goal and inevitably the ball keeps going over. Fortunately Oliver is light enough for me to lift over the fence in order to retrieve it, but I also have to lift him back again afterwards, and as he weighs about the same as a sack of potatoes, by the fifth time, I am getting more than a little fed up. Fortunately Oliver and Jack's mums call them away for tea, it is five past five and we have to walk back home, eat tea and then pack Norman into my car, before driving to Jackie and Gino's. I planned to set off at six. In the event we eat our food in the garden and are on our way by a quarter past. I drop Louis with Alice, in North Bar and then continue through Bishop Burton, on the York Road towards the M62. I have told Gino to expect us around eight, so I have plenty of time, and repeat the experience of settling into the inside lane on the Motorway and putting the car in "cruise control" at around sixty miles an hour. I trundle along happily, keeping a hundred yards behind the lorry in front, adjusting my speed by nudging the cruise handle up or down a notch, as required. I arrive at my sister's house at a quarter to eight, feeling refreshed and having had time to think over the issues in Gino's tribunal appeal. He and Jackie looked tanned and relaxed and tell me the holiday has done them a world of good. We settle down with tea on their patio, the evening sun low in the sky, on a perfect summer's evening. Norman loves Gino, because he is usually cooking and always has food, so he deserts me and follows my brother in law around, like a little brown slave. After our tea, I take out my brief case and produce Gino's file and the three of us discuss the meeting tomorrow, what we want to achieve and how we will handle the lawyer. I watch Gino out of the corner of my eye, his leg is twitching up and down and his eyes are blinking rapidly, I can see he is becoming agitated. When you are forced out of a company that you have worked for for forty years, it is almost like a bereavement and as we discuss some of the key issues, I can see that he is reliving some of the more unpleasant experiences, it is akin to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder for him. It will be quite a while before he recovers from this and the meeting tomorrow will also be a challenge. We finish by half past nine and then round off the evening with some wine and cheese with crackers. Of course Norman gets his fair share, and then we all turn in around ten thirty. I am sleeping in my niece's, Rebecca's, bedroom, on the ground floor. She is living in Spain at the moment, near Gibraltar. Norman is in his bed on the floor, but unused to the strange house, he whines to come on my bed and rather than risk him wake the whole house, I give in and make him a bed on top of my dressing gown, which I have fortunately brought with me. He is asleep and snoring gently within seconds of having achieved his objective. I can almost see the thought bubble emerging from his head, "The Force has a strong effect on the weak minded".