The House Husband

I was sitting in the Victoria Embankment Gardens, happily reading about the Medici family, waiting for Mirinda, when two guys in flouro tops approached, wielding big blowers. There was a lot of fallen leaves. I say ‘was’ because these guys were really moving them on. At one stage I looked back to where they’d been and wondered what they’d done with them all. Then I saw this and realised they were returning them to the soil.

Blowing leaves around

Once they’d moved passed me, it was rather nice sitting in the gardens. The sun was out and the day was unseasonably warm. This helped the fact that I was feeling a trifle seedy after last night/this morning. Eventually, Mirinda joined me and we went to the cafe in the garden for a lovely lunch and financial discussion.

Before going back to the office, we took our usual stroll. Today it took us the length of the Victoria Embankment Gardens and to a memorial I’d not seen before. It is to commemorate the airmen who served and died in the service of the Fleet Air Arm – naval as opposed to Air Force planes.

The statue sits atop a very tall plinth, inscribed with wars and the names of those who fell in the two world wars. It stands proud with wings outstretched, a cyborg looking creation. It is Daedalus, the legendary Greek craftsman who created a set of wings in order to escape King Minos of Crete.

James Butler's 2000 memorial statue to the Fleet Air Arm

It’s quite striking so I’m amazed I’ve never noticed it before. You can read more about it here.

Sadly, as I journeyed home, the weather grew increasingly worse. About half an hour after getting home – about the time the poodles calmed down – the rain started. When the sun went down, the temperature plummeted as well.

At least it was nice for lunch. This is how it looked earlier:

Embankment on a lovely autumn day

So lovely.

I had a Talking Newspaper date today (12-4). We were reading the Haslemere papers and what a dire lot of news stories we had! Peter, the presenter, claimed it was the dullest newspaper he had EVER read. He wasn’t wrong. I found it difficult to get any laughs at all. But, of course, I did manage a few.

After the recording, Peter said to all and sundry that he likes recording with me because I always make him laugh. One of the pieces that Maureen read was about people needing to laugh at least 81 times a day (I have no idea where the figure comes from) so I told Peter that I was helping him towards his 81 for today. Which made him laugh. To which I said “And there’s another!” At which he laughed again. I thought it best to stop then as I didn’t want to use them all up.

It reminded me of the time that Simon at Telewest said that he liked to live every moment as if it was his last. The conversation went something like this:

SIMON: I like to live every moment as if it was my last!
GARY: What about this one?
SIMON: What?
GARY: That moment. Just gone.
SIMON: [LAUGHING]
GARY: And this one? Quick, get living, dude!
SIMON: [LAUGHING MORE]
GARY: [AFTER A NICE LONG PAUSE] This is a good one. Do it now!

See how silly I am? But, it does the job. I think life is for laughing. Evolution gave us an amazing ability – laughter – and we need to exercise it as much as we can.

Mirinda accuses me of not taking things seriously enough (which is true) particularly when I echo David Brent by saying “I am an entertainer first and a [whatever job I'm doing] second!” but I figure it’s my greatest skill.

To that end, I wish to change what is to be written on my grave. It was going to be ‘Why act when you can pause?’ which harks back to my days in theatre and my ability to inject very long pauses into pieces I directed (my record was around 10 minutes at the beginning of Salome, a feat I am somewhat proud of). I have decided, however, to change it to ‘Here lies Gary Cook, an entertainer first and a corpse second.’ I think that just about sums me up.

An odd day today. First of all I had to take the puppies to Frensham Kennels. It had occurred to me to walk there. It’s only 5.5 miles but the first 2 miles is along busy roads which I wasn’t that keen on. So, instead, I ordered a taxi to take us all to Frensham Little Pond. The taxi driver told me how he’s been given leave to live and work in Australia but is waiting for the dollar to pound exchange rate to improve. His dog died in January but it had lived to 16 and had a lovely life running all over Frensham.

It was lovely today. The sky so blue, the temperature warm. The puppies loved it. It’s the first time I’ve been there alone as Mirinda usually drives. I walked around the pond and up to the bronze age burial mounds. Took some photos then kept walking along the ridge.

Frensham Kennels is by the big pond so I was heading, roughly, in that direction. Halfway down the hill I found a memorial I’d never seen before. It’s sat alone on the hill side, over looking the big pond. It reads:

“Frensham Common was bequeathed to the National Trust by WA Robertson in memory of his brothers Norman Cairns Robertson, Cptn, 2nd Batt, Hampshire Regiment who died 20th June 1917 at Hanover, Germany and of Laurance Grant Robertson, 2nd Lieut, 2nd Battalion, King’s Own Scottish Borderers, who was killed in action in France during the battle of the Somme, in or near Delville Wood on 30th July 1916.”

I didn’t know that. I thought Frensham Ponds was always owned by the Bishop of Winchester. Maybe it was sold off by the crown after the dissolution. Anyway, it’s a striking monument, all lychen covered and stark.

From the memorial, it’s just a short stroll down to the main road, across it and along the rim of the big pond. I arrived at the kennel and the puppies were not happy about being fooled. They enjoyed the walk so much, I don’t think they knew where we were going until it was too late. Day-z was happy enough to go but Carmen kept looking at me as if to say “Don’t leave me here. Please?”

Too bad, Carmy, I said, and left. I had decided to get a bus back so I walked back to the middle of the road between the ponds and waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually a bus appeared and I made my way back into Farnham.

I forgot to mention that the other day I was in Starbucks and one of the Baristas knew my name. I don’t know how. She said, as she started to prepare my usual “Are you drinking in today, Gary?” I just said yes, automatically. A little later it struck me that she knew my name. Freaky.

And finally back to a very quiet house. It’s odd when the puppies aren’t here. I keep expecting them to bark or jump on me or lick me and it never happens. I miss them. Though I did get to have all the roast beef on my rolls for lunch rather than sharing with them.

After lunch, I mowed the lawn…again. Damned thing. Just keeps growing. It’s always that first mow. Once you start…

I had an email from mum this morning asking if I could strip the sound off a video she’d sent me of dad (and others) singing and burn it onto a CD. It took me most of the afternoon and evening but I managed it. I amaze myself sometimes.

I haven’t heard from my dear wife today so I have to assume she’s having too good a time without me. I’ll see her tomorrow and give her a piece of my mind!