Cameron and I walked to school this morning. A bright autumn morning, with a heavy dew. All the leaves, which were stripped off the trees by the gales a couple of weeks ago, are now covering the ground in a kind of damp mulch - not much good for kicking around. We walked and chatted inconsequentially, and dawdled, and saw people we knew also going to school, and I was struck by a powerful nostalgia. This is exactly what walking to school has always felt like, I realised. Never mind that I was a foot taller than everyone; never mind that the chatter was about things which hadn't been invented when I was doing this every day; it is an eternal sensation. Children who are driven to school miss a hell of a lot. Oh, yes, there are plenty of children in large people carriers, even in our small village - you can't close Pandora's Box, you know.
The reason that Cam and I were doing the school run today was that Conor was in hospital having an orchidopexy (you could try Googling it, or I could just tell you it's a procedure to reposition an undescended testicle) - all is well, and he's back home now, exhausted and slightly resentful at having had a drip in his foot. He can't walk yet, having had a spinal block put in to deaden the pain, but a good night's sleep will resurrect him, I'm certain. I tell you what, though - I wouldn't care to go through a day like that too often... Beer. I need beer...
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