Oops, dropped off the edge of the weekend there, didn't I? I had a lovely long sleep on Friday night to make up for the week. Answered the doorbell in my nightshirt on Saturday morning to receive a delivery of a dozen beautiful red roses from husband*. We don't celebrate our wedding anniversary (seems like an arbitrary date to us as we had been together for 5 years or so by then, living together for much of it) but we do kind of celebrate the anniversary of when we started going out. Sweet, aren't we? And for all but one of those *gulp* 21 years, I have had roses from husband on the day. Guess which year he missed? 1998, the year our first child was born. Said first child was born only a couple of weeks or so before The Anniversary and accordingly neither of us were coherent or conscious enough to remember such trivialities. If I recall correctly, I think we were having trouble remembering to eat and comb our hair at that point. I think we can both be forgiven for that one.
Saturday was the usual pleasant potter about. On Sunday I took First Born to karate and went for a run on the treadmill. I had not, it goes without saying, run at all last week and I am increasingly aware that 4 May, the day when I have committed to run 6 miles in public, is looming large. I therefore knew that I needed to run but I also wanted to run - I miss it when I don't and I NEVER thought I would say that!! I managed to run for 45 minutes on the dreadmill, with a brisk 5 minute cool down walk. I covered 6km in that time so I only have to run...half as far again......and then some.....and I'm there! No problem!
Sunday evening was unusually eventful for us. Sister in law and her partner agreed to shepherd our offspring for a few hours and Husband and I drove to Glasgow (didn't get asked for our passports or anything!) to go to a concert. A Gary Numan concert. That last sentence will have divided the readership into 3 unequal parts. One part saying "Who?" (I'm looking at you, Isabelle!), one part saying "Oh good grief, you must be joking!" and one saying "Cool!" The last group is probably quite small, judging by the reactions of the real-life people I have told.
But it was a great night, honestly. Mr Numan is touring his 1978 album "Replicas" which was great at the time (I was 13 in 1978. Sigh) and he has updated it for its 30th anniversary and taken it on the road. It was terrific - loud and guitar-y and sing-along-y in parts, and it made me feel at least 5 years younger. No chance it could make me feel 13 again. It's only music after all, not magic. And the support band were young enough to be my children, which doesn't help, frankly.
The crowd was interesting: four parts forty-somethings along for the nostalgia trip (including several bored wives obviously dragged along by their husbands) and one part young teen or early twenty-something Goth types. Everybody bounced around and sang in unison.
And if you want an illustration of how I am nowhere near 13 years old any more, how about this: the gig was standing only, no seats. We were there quite early so got into the venue at a time when we could pick our spot. Did we (a) run straight down to the front to be at the edge of the stage, where we could almost reach out and touch GN, or (b) notice that towards the back was a little bar with high bar stools in front of it, running the width of the hall, so you could be further back but get to SIT DOWN during the concert? Answers in the comments but I think you all know what we did!
Oh, and the office was broken into again over the weekend but they didn't hang around and there was nothing easy and worth stealing left. My laptop was at home with me, although I would not have been heartbroken to lose this one - it is nowhere near as funky and cool as my old Vaio. Oooh, and I must send heartfelt thanks to Hannah for the iPod tip - I am managing to get the music off the iPod and back into iTunes without too much hassle. I owe you a drink!
*Husband didn't get flowers but I did make him a big batch of home-made rum truffles!