Good evening Negative Soundbyters! I worked from home today. Nothing noteworthy in that per se but one dynamic that makes it possibly a less productive experience is a six- month old!
I like to get the day off to an early start – Rafe is of the same mind – so we left Mrs H to enjoy a lie in and we made our way downstairs at around six this morning. To be fair Rafe was “entertaining” Mrs H and I from four-thirty so it’s not like he was struggling or needed a splash of cold water on his face (like I did!) to get his day underway!
Rafe sat in his high chair and I prepared his Weetbix; we had the Winter Olympics on in the background. A mixed team curling event between two Norwegians and two no-name brand Russians (Russia being officially banned from the tournament) was in full flight. I am not sure curling aficionados would see the sport as the equivalent of lawn bowls on ice, but it seems to have some of the same characteristics. Bend knee. Deploy “ball” (or “disc”). Get it down to the other side of the “pitch”. If you hit other balls/discs out of your path, that’s good. Get it close to the white ball (bowls) or into the small circle (curling). The one clear difference is that while a bowler might follower his or her ball up the green with verbal encouragement, the curler might get his or her partner to “sweep” the ice in front of the disc with a special broom, no doubt to further smooth its passage on what is already an almost frictionless surface. And boy do they sweep. Mrs H is often looking to me to put my back into the odd clean down of the kitchen or lounge – it doesn’t come close to these guys and girls. This one woman was doing the curling equivalent of a Sharapova such was her vocal intensity; I couldn’t work out whether it was excitement that she had thrown the perfect “slide” (I made that up) or to tell her partner that his sweeping skills were below par; either way he responded with more vigorous sweeping. (I know when Mrs H is giving me a dressing down in this department!)
Before we carry on with this anecdote, I quick geopolitical note of some significance:
Tomorrow (or today if you are reading this tomorrow – er ok) could be a watershed moment for the beloved country. Apparently Jay-Zee or No 1 (as he prefers to be known in South Africa) is addressing the media. It could be to announce that he would like to clarify that there are not “one hundred point two million” members in the ANC (there are only 780 odd thousand and SA’s population is only about 55 million) but that he is to resign as Number One (and instead become possibly “Point One”. (if this has gone straight over your head then google “Zuma and messing up ANC membership” – the video went viral.) Ja, it could be another momentous day in the history of the motherland; one wonders though whether Point One will go “quietly into that good night”. I wouldn’t bet on it!
But let’s return to something less ominous, or it could be more so – read on.
Big Love
Hoddy XX
So....
Rafe slurped his milky Weetbix, I drank my cup of tea and the Norwegians and Russians swept like their lives depended on it. (In Russia they probably do…) Eventually Mrs H came to join us and that enabled me to begin the work day up in my office.
I had just got my favourite spreadsheet open, when I heard a knock on the door. Mrs H needed me to watch Rafe for 10 minutes while she had a shower. Sure no problem.
Rafe positioned himself squarely on my lap and began typing out his first email:
,; \ ;,l.l xjn ,////////////////XSGC 222222220033
5321;;
To be fair that probably made a lot more sense to him than my spreadsheet made to me. Eventually Rafe tired of flinging soggy bits of Weetbix onto my keyboard and decided that his next task was to make a phone call. This would be fine but the iPhone has yet to work out how to respond to baby gums covered in Weetbix. Finger recognition: Check. Retina recognition: Check. Baby eating phone: Fail. (I was pleased that I had a protective cover over my work phone; although babies have this uncanny ability to find their way into things that should be impossible to crack!)
Finished with the phone his beady eye spotted an empty Tupperware dish which he grabbed and began banging on my desk. It wasn’t an uncoordinated movement either; almost rhythmic like the sweepers one the ice. It was becoming a little too much for me to handle (I thought the spreadsheet was a challenge!) and thankfully Mrs H soon came to the rescue.
The rest of the day was relatively uneventful until purple hour arrived just in time to coincide with a conference call that I was on. Mrs H didn’t realise that I was on the phone; I didn’t have the phone on “mute” and Rafe didn’t give a crap any which way! Let’s just say my fellow conference callers got a taste of the air raid siren. Mrs H beat a hasty retreat with a very angry baby in tow and I resumed discussing how residential values might be impacted in a development that incorporates both industrial and residential uses! Um ja….(that’s exactly what Rafe thought!)
Eventually the call ended and I relieved Mrs H from bath-time duties so she could go and relax (and pour herself a stiff drink) while I attended to his worship!
Rafe certainly added another dimension to the work environment; possibly not one I would entertain every day but seeing that big gummy smile and the twinkly blue saucers at lunchtime – well that’s gotta make a sticky keyboard and a saliva encased iPhone well worth it!
Out :)
Pic of the Week
Spot Rafe, the keyboard and the Tupperware (Phone now well out of harms way!)
