Ah, hear that? That's the sound of a long weekend and half-term starting. A whole week with no work! Just me, the Ever Lovely Mrs J and our two lovely nippers. Hopefully, we'll manage an hour before the squabbling starts... and maybe the kids will manage that too ;-)
In a spot of bad luck, I managed to pick up a cold, but being less than your typical guy, it means I don't qualify for man-flu, which is good ;-) Due to the sneezing and coughing, I was kipping downstairs on the sofa, so the Ever Lovely Mrs J - who gets up early for work - could get a good night's kip.
Anyhoo, with the weather warming up and my thoughts about not wearing opaques post-Easter, I decided to paint my toenails. We live out in the sticks, so a quiet spot, far from the crowds is easy to find and I rather enjoyed the would-be-summer weather, as the varnish dried.
Usually, if I do paint my toes, it's on the night and I don't do it very often, because it's a bit of a faff, when it comes to getting changed at the end of the night. There are those rare occasions were it's both summer and the Ever Lovely Mrs J is away. This time around, and sleeping downstairs, I had the opportunity and as Ol' Jack always says... what the hell? :-)
The funny thing is, it's rare, as a guy - well, for me at least - to see my toes. I don't do sandals as a rule and working in an office - despite our very laid back dress code, it's trainers or similar for work. Yet, knowing I had - and if you'll forgive me - a pretty colour on them (a rather nice black cherry, if you're curious), somehow put a spring in my step. A little something just for me.
Before going to Chams, I popped into the next village, to pick Wee Man up from his friend's house. Yes, the Dad Taxi Service runs here and there. I had put my bag for Chams in the back seat and as he got in, Wee Man asked what was in the bag? I said 'work stuff' and he shrugged and turned the radio up. "But you never take a bag to work", he observed.
I played the "yes and I am tomorrow," and that was that, as the conversation moved on. I dropped him off at home and off I went. As I drove to Chams, I wondered, how long before we need to have The Conversation? The one where he's sat on the end of the bed, and I'm explaining to him, that I'm still his dad, that I love him and I'm not going to change, nor turn up to school in femme mode, nor leave the Ever Lovely Mrs J. If I have to tell him, do I ask him to keep it from Little Miss, who is only wee (she's eight and a bit). Is it fair to ask someone to keep that secret? Does that add to the shame he may feel? Ah, questions, questions! I guess, like most parents - trans or otherwise - I have to walk that line about being myself and avoiding anything that would turn his life around.
It's not like I keep my trans stuff under lock and key. I mean, it's all in one of the built in wardrobes upstairs (we have a converted bungalow). I do wonder about getting a lock for the cupboard, but then, wouldn't that encourage curiosity? Is it better to respect each other's privacy? I mean, when we talked about Little Miss looking for Christmas presents, Mrs J pointed out that when you rummage through people's things, you don't always know what you'll find. Therein, lies the game.
Pat had been kind enough to organise a visit from M & Co. I can't say I've been in their shops, so whatever they were going to bring was a surprise. I did have a quick look on-line to see what dresses they had, and the two ladies who visited, were kind enough to bring one along for me. It was rather nice, but didn't quite sit well. I think the pockets on the thighs/tummy area didn't help. It would have been spot on for working in the office, but as that's not going to be me, I decided not to invest. Still, Pat tells me M & Co did very well that night and with 25% savings, so did the group. Always good to see a vendor put the effort in and be rewarded.
Tania popped in to collect the banners for Nottingham Pride and that's two sets: one for Nottingham Invasion and one for Chameleons. The banners and pop-up displays are all in tip-top condition, so good for another year. After a bit of a chat, the funds were totted up, and the Pride funds have hit their targets.
There was a chance for some photos (thanks Val!) and some home-made cake. Much as the latter isn't helping my 'get back to a 14' plans, it was very good for the soul.