Le weekend

As you might imagine I have been spending a fair bit of time lately thinking about my own school days, which I lumped in with my ‘uneventful’ childhood in my first entry. Of course, school is never uneventful and neither is childhood but I think I’m a bit bashful to start delving into those awkward years just yet.

I do remember from school that my first French teacher told me that the French government had tried to stop the people of France using ‘Le weekend’ and to get them to stick to the proper French version. Since we were never taught the proper French version, presumably something along the lines of ‘fin de semaine’, I must assume that their gallant efforts were met with the gallic indifference we have all come to know and love from our nearest neighbours.

By this point you may not be shocked when I tell you that this is a whole weekend entry as I am leaving for Stoke tomorrow with most of my furniture to stay at my dad’s and do my Primary School placement. This should mean that by Monday I will have something more interesting to tell you than random facts about French etymology and the invasion of anglo-culture therein.

Since I am about to have my busiest fortnight for quite some time I have decided to use these last couple of days to enjoy myself and whilst still stuffing all of my random crap into boxes, to relax. With this in mind I accepted an invitation to go for tapas last night with my friend Tim who then moaned at me for not mentioning him in this blog, so there you go Tim!

Actually Tim, if you are reading this I should point out that Bill Bryson who I admire greatly always makes up pseudonyms for his friends when he writes about them so I’m just wondering what I should call you. Obviously Boom Ba! springs to mind but it seems to lack a certain amount of authenticity. Perhaps Windy Miller is more appropriate or Bob a Job which I think is funny. Anyway I will muse on this further and try to come up with a suitable Moniker for you.

As for today, well I’ve just spent a very diverting 20 minutes cleaning the stove top and doing the dishes I have also washed some towels and had a little explore under my bed to see what lurked beneath. Sadly, as I might have predicted it was just stuff I should have thrown away last time I moved. I guess everybody has some things which however advanced and grown up we become, remain comfort blankets and just have to follow us around wherever we might go.

So with these domestic concerns addressed and even more of my life consigned to boxes I am going out to eat again tonight with my chums Emma, Jo and Danny. I believe we are going for a curry, which for those of you who don’t live in Leicester is a real treat as the curry houses in Leicester are great and plentiful. For those of you that came down for my birthday I realise that we went for an Italian, which was a missed opportunity!

What I like about the Indian restaurants here is that there is such a diverse range of options; from modern and trendy looking to the classic flock-wallpaper and dodgy music style. My personal preference is ‘the-more-seventies-the-better’. I think a curry house should involve slightly dodgy décor and a soundtrack that sounds like it is being played backwards.

Sunday, the day of rest, will involve my dad bringing his Landrover and trailer and us trying to get all of my larger items of furniture in, on, under and generally tied to said vehicle for the journey to my dad’s place in Stoke and the associated unloading at the other end. I’m pretty sure that once we’re finished I’ll have the best-furnished (desk, sofa, double bed, chest of drawers, wardrobe etc) bedroom in North Staffordshire, just hope there’s room for me!

Of course the best thing about going home apart from seeing the folks, is seeing my lovely doggies. And so I’ll leave this week’s offerings with some pictures of them for your jealous indulgence.

Have a good weekend and be sure to have a read of Monday’s entry after day 1 of Primary School – perhaps entitled they may be small, but they’re dangerous…..