So Bennie’s got through his second week of high school.
This has initiated major and not unwelcome changes in our home.
And a growing sense of independence for both son and father.
He’s handling the public transport and all that goes with it with aplomb.
He has his own phone, albeit a basic prepaid model.
And I’m happy for him to beat me home or be there, as was the case this week, while I am out and about on CTS-related business.
With the following ground rules – do your homework, read, chillax, no open flames and no TV until dad gets home.
It’s all going really well … except for the daily start routine.
Our longstanding 7am alarm has given way, for transport reasons, to 6am.
And it’s doing my head in.
By noon, it already seems a very long day indeed! By late afternoon, I’m cactus. I hit the hay the same time as he.
Before we know it, I’ll have him cooking our meals on a regular basis.
At the parent/staff gathering at his new school this week, one of the teachers spoke briefly about the looming challenge of puberty – his not, mine.
The gist of it was empowerment and involvement.
Truth is, I already rely on him very much for support and counsel … so I think we’re going to be fine.
There have been recent occasions on which I wished I had followed his wise advice to the letter.
I’ve mentioned the idea of me starting a sort-of father-of-a-teenage son blog.
He most adamantly thinks this is not a good idea.
One of the rarely mentioned downsides of us all – very much including myself these days – being connected, what with mobile devices and even our Foxtel remote control and so on: It’s impossible not to know, at any given time, exactly what time it IS.
So the days of “lost track of time” have entered the realms of nostalgia.
Consider The Sauce Feast No.5 will hopefully be unveiled in the coming week.
And there’ll be changes to the routine.
Bigger, better … but equally delicious and enjoyable.
As a result of my “gotta get out a bit” story, a longtime journo pal convinced me – via Facebook messages – to sign up with RSVP.
I had and have massive misgivings about this
But I did it anyway.
It feels truly weird and uncomfortable.
More than 20 souls have checked out my profile and pics, though I remain mostly clueless as to who or how they may be on account of the site requires me to pay for most such information.
And I am, so far, resisting that.
But yesterday someone who has the right attitude and the right kind of interests expressed definite interest in meeting me.
Oddly, the face and the smile are kind-of familiar.
I think she may live local – as in REALLY local.
A Footscray frolic, the Yarraville Festival and sleep.
Lots of sleep.
Some time in the next week or so pleasure bombs will arrive.
Namely, what will no doubt be a stupendously mindblowing and lavish box set of 1951-1983 gospel from the Nashboro label and long overdue reacquaintance with Freddie King, Little Milton, Junior Parker and Jimmy Reed.