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I had a lovely day out with my family at Kew Gardens. It’s a real treat to get a weekend to ourselves (though I think I will have to work tomorrow), but it’s also, unusually a big long stretch of time without a stand up gig. My last one was the 30th July and I am not back on stage until the 9th September when I attempt to stumble my way through Happy Now? one last time in Stratford-upon-Avon (hopefully it will come back to me on the night,but when I tried to recall the routine about the voice in my head so I could use a bit of the idea in the new AIOTM script, I had no clue of how it began or what happened in it. Luckily I have some recordings to listen to, but I am a bit nervous!) It’s always a terrible night mare getting on stage after so much time away. Luckily for me my second gig back is a load of new material in AIOTM. Great!
Anyway, days out with Phoebe are becoming more and more fun and more frustrating as she interacts with the world around her. As always she wanted to stop to investigate bits of bark and fallen leaves. There are quite a few of these in Kew as you might imagine. Yet some of the bit of plant junk were deemed better than others (though I don’t know on what basis, there were some real scrag ends amongst her choices) were placed into the seat of her pram - treasure for her to take home. Or for me to try and lose on our walk.
This was what it was all about, of course, to help nurture our child’s relationship with nature, but it made it hard to make any progress and her choices were all odd. She’d stop by a bed of flowers with shimmering colours that popped out at you and almost burned into your retina, but she’d be more interested in poking her finger into the soil underneath them. Sometimes she’d throw a mini-tantrum if we took her away from a twig that she liked, but you could usually distract her with another twig. But not always. Because she loved the first twig and knew she’d never find a better twig. Oooh look at that twig.
Again her dare-devil nature came out. She took some chances on big slides in the playground and crossed a little rope bridge affair, which I’d have been a bit nervous about going on. Her mum climbed up a tree in the grounds and Phoebe was desperate to do the same. I am delighted that she hasn’t inherited my cowardly genes. I would never take risks or do anything very boisterous and was scared of nearly everything. It held me back in life and in love. So I am glad Phoebe is like her adventurous mum. Though as I am still a coward it makes things tough for, as I now have to be scared for two people.
And though it’s not as bad as it was in those days when I worried about stalactites of urine falling from plane toilets and spearing her through the chest, I am still nervous about everything and create danger where there is none. As we wheeled her pram over Kew Bridge on the way there, I envisaged a situation where I took her out of the pram and stood her on the edge of the bridge to look at the water beneath. And then, in my mind, Phoebe decided to jump off the bridge into the water and somehow I didn’t stop her. I knew that I would then have to jump into the shallow water after her and definitely die and she’d probably die too. I shuddered and let out an involuntary groan at this highly avoidable and unlikely scenario and so had to tell my wife why I’d made this strange noise. She, of course, does similar things. It’s part of being a parent and a person. Why is my brain so intent to make me not enjoy the brief life I have by imagining myself and the people I love in danger that will probably never happen. I’d prefer it if I just had to cope with it if it did happen. Cos if it does happen I’d look back at the days I had and they’d be full of me worrying about something happening, rather than enjoying the time I had at the time.
Ah well.
Anyway, I love seeing nature again through the eyes of my baby (not literally, that’s be horrible) and I also like having the excuse to play again (not that I really ever stopped) but without anyone being able to chastise me. There’s a good indoor play area at Kew with slides and gizmos and what it’s like in a mouse hole (not very accurate representation but still fun). I just wanted to go on all the stuff myself. And because I have a kid I am now allowed to. Have a baby, man child nerds. You can hang around playgrounds without people calling the police (but not if you look through your baby’s eyes). Playing is the best.
We checked out The Hive which is a really interesting piece of modern art, but I was actually more taken with the meadow conditions around it. Or at least the juxtaposition between the two. Which you know, I am sure is part of the artist’s intention. Those wild plants all growing together, with long grasses and thistles and flowers, with bees flying around and pollinating it like crazy. Idyllic, evocative of a time and a landscape that has passed and just supremely natural. The hive full of its glowing lights and sound is alien and metallic and robotic and out of place and yet representative of something supremely natural too. Sprouting up out of all the greenery of Kew though. Really impressive.
We got yearly membership of Kew so we can go back any time. I think that, for once, we might actually go enough times to make that worthwhile. That play area is worth taking a bus ride for on its own to be honest.
We walked back though Kew Green where men played cricket and there were some lovely old houses and pubs. I played the game that I play everywhere of “what kind of house could I live in in this place?” It turned out not a bit enough house that the rest of my family could realistically come with me. So I’ve dumped them so I can watch some men play cricket on a Saturday, near a big fuck off garden.
