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Saturday 9th June 2018


A long drive to Devon today for the start of our week long holiday. I drove the first half and Catie did the second and I lucked because Ernie pretty much slept through the bit where I was a passenger and Phoebe watched Frozen on the iPad, so I got to see it again too. It’s an excellent, beautiful and funny film, with much more musical and visual detail than is required. Many parents told me that I’d be sick of my daughter singing “Let It Go!”and indeed she does that a lot (and i am not allowed to join in (because unlike her, I am no Elsa), but so far I am not tired of it and could do with hearing it a few hundred more times.
But the film is cute and funny and at times fucking harsh and tragic and it’s worth having a kid so that you can watch it without looking like a weirdo. And it’s a great lesson in parenting. If one of your kids is cursed and nearly kills the other one with icy magic, then don’t lock the magic kid in a room and refuse to tell the other one what happened.
Devon was looking lovely when we arrived and after I’d nearly killed myself lugging all our stuff up the steep steps to our holiday flat, we managed to get down to the beach for the briefest of visits to assuage our excited daughter, before going for some dinner and a couple of pints of Cornish lager. Somehow we fought through tiredness and mild drunkeness to get the kids safely to bed.
I woke with a start in the night, clutching my ring finger and realising with a start that my wedding ring wasn’t there. I very rarely take this ring off and have never forgotten to put it back on and was full of fear as I thought I might have absent-mindedly done so in the pub or on the beach and it was gone. My mum lost her wedding ring in a swimming pool in France when we were on holiday back in the eighties and we’d spent a heart-stopping hour or so searching for it on the bottom of the pool, before having to give it up as lost. It was horribly upsetting.
And I felt the same dread now, along with the weirdness that I’d woken up knowing it was gone. My subconscious had clearly been playing on this as I slept and had woken me to let me know the news. Presumably my subconscious also had some idea of when and where the ring had left my finger, but it wasn’t giving that up.
I stumbled around in the dark. My wife had also woken up and I told her what had happened and she told me not to worry and to wait til the morning. But I knew I wouldn’t sleep.
Luckily, though inexplicably, I had taken off the ring just before I went to bed and it was sitting on the table. I don’t know why I had done that. I expect the Cornish lager had something to do with it. It was a huge relief to find it though.

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