Never Doubted Him

I wake up with a sore and bruised shoulder. They do says guns are dangerous don't they and that was just the kick back.

I cycle in and discover that my shoulder isn’t too bad but I think I also might have done my neck in. Swimming tonight could be interesting.

We have everything crossed today, as it’s A level results day. L meets Son at the Nottingham Arena which is where they are handing out the results and the sympathy. Son is doing cartwheels. Well, he’s smiling and grinning, which is almost the same thing. He’s done really well. L says he was stunned how good his results were. L says she was stunned how good they were. So we're all stunned. Never doubted him. He’s now retrieved the wreckage of this first attempt at A Levels and got one full A Level out that and now has a good set of AS’s to take forward to next year.

He's having a 'small scale party' at our place this evening to celebrate the results. The festivities are due to start at around 8pm but apparently they have started already. I’m just having my lunch...

L sends me the beautiful Hoppipola to relax me whilst I’m have my Oggy oggy pasty.

If I may correct her, I’m having an Oggy Oggy chicken salad brown bread sandwich not a pasty but I agree, it’s good sandwich music. Thought I'd keep off the processed meats like ham for a few days re: another health scare in the news. This is proper chicken, I think. If it’s not, then it’s very very good fake chicken. Chicken isn't bad for you at the moment.

Hoppipola is by Sigur Rós by the way. Don’t try and sing along, the words are in Icelandic. That's not a very Sigur Rós title, their tracks are usually called something like 'Við spilum endalaust' which comes from their best selling album 'Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust'. See what I mean?

I'm dreading them touring and coming to Nottingham because L will want to go and I'll have to research all their albums. We'll have to be front row because I’ll definitely need to pinch a set list, there’s no way I’m compiling that from memory.



It's the moment we've all been dreading, the deciding Ashes test, and in the office, we need something to take our minds off Ian Bell's batting. Hoppipola might have to do. There are continued shouts across the office of 'he's still there' as he makes a very tentative start. Several hours later he is out but for a useful 72, never doubted him.



I go for my swim, following L’s advice to stay out as long as I can, in view of the ‘small scale party’ going on at home. Then when we get home we retire to the bedsit with a bottle of wine, well L does. I'm collecting Daughter later who is out at a gay club, which is an odd location to hire for a 16+ post exam results party but there you go, particularly as GCSE results aren’t out until next week.

She is back in time to check out the dregs of the party with a few mates in tow. Unfortunately by then the party has moved up into Son’s room but I’m sure the A Level students weren’t trying to avoid the GCSE students.