The only thing worse than hearing “Oops”

The only thing worse than hearing “Oops” is hearing the following:



“… Nothing!”

This weekend we should have been at Greenbelt festival in Northamptonshire. We were all packed and ready to go Thursday night, and set off a little after eight on Friday morning aiming to arrive about ten.

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We arrived at the end of the queue at half ten, having spent a little time in service stations ensuring small boys who needed to relieve themselves could do so.

We weren’t on site until midday, and parked up around quarter past. It’s not the fault of the Greenbelt planners or staff that things weren’t ideal but then there was a wait for help to get our kit on site and the weather at the end of the weekend wasn’t looking good, and for one additional reason and another we decided to bail.

I’m gutted we weren’t around to see all the fun and frivolity, and we’re already planning how to be able to attend next year with minimum fuss and foul ups, but it kind of set the tone for the weekend.

We got home and ordered pizza. Failing to reach Buddy’s, (IMHO the finest establishment in Aldridge), we had to settle for Dominos. No sooner had I confirmed my intent to collect and save money on a special offer, Buddy’s phoned back to apologise for missing the call. Gutted again.

Sunday was spent partly putting all the camping gear back into storage.

Monday hailed a Bank Holiday’s traditional weather – but all the libraries and art galleries we fancied the look of were closed.

Today I had already booked a day off so Son 1 and I set out for the joys of the Library of Birmingham.

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The 997 was as slow and relaxing as usual, but at least we didn’t have to drive around a Birmingham still partly locked up with closed ring road tunnels.

We saw the old Library in all its greyness. Demolition is due shortly, so I understand, and I confess I’ll miss the place.

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…and then the batteries in the camera died before we could do anything interesting or take shots of the remarkable panorama from the secret garden on the library roof.

Gutted again.

Son 1 had some tasks to do before the start of term. We sat side by side in the Music Library listening to Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto in A and following a study score to help him get a feel for the shape of the music.

Then a quick look around a bit of the Museum and Art Gallery, and back home.

On our return, having acquired new batteries and stowed the camera safely, we took the whole family swimming. Guess who wore his swimming shorts under his regular shorts, then forgot to take the regular ones off before dunking himself in the pool? The only note of positivity in the whole endeavour was I’d removed my phone from the pockets before embarrassing myself.

And the final indignity was scraping the tank (people carrier) on a pillar in a car park.

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Bank Holidays? You can keep them.

Update: Then I ran out of fuel tonight giving a mate a lift home. Standard.


One Response to The only thing worse than hearing “Oops”

  1. It was wonderful, and we got to share war-stories about shivering in the early hours- coldest night recorded in August, someone said. Um. Constant rain on Monday made the grass all slidy mud very quickly, but the conversation was wonderful.

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