As both of my readers will know, I spend a lot of time writing risk assessments. Whether it's a community walk for a multitude of young children, a massive event for all ages, an international trip for teenagers, or anything else involving other people's offspring, considering the risks, mitigating then, multiplying likelihood by severity then considering impact is second nature to me. But having sole responsibility for two children to whom you are related - well, that is entirely another situation. I think on reflection perhaps the clipboard, hi-viz jackets, consent forms, sound-off and 2-way radios may have been a little too much, although I drew the line at organising a home contact procedure. Author's note - I'm aware that this opening paragraph won't mean a thing to readers not involved with a certain national voluntary organisation, but stay with me.
The children rode their bicycles and Auntie Helen walked hurriedly behind - my sister and brother-in-law went to a dance event this evening - the park is about two-hundred metres away from the house, via a straight path. My niece was more interested in climbing the surrounding trees than the play equipment, then we all three bounced up and down on the seesaw chatting about life and the world. There was great excitement when we saw an opossum - or it may have been a snake - we only saw the tail - unless it was a snake, and they are mainly tail. I have learnt this evening that an opossum is different from a possum, not just how one talks about a possum. Who knew.
Later, we had dinner, made root beer floats, then watched The Simpsons Movie - oh my goodness, what on earth was that? I have now watched three films in four days - this is unheard-of. I am also half-way through my Stacey Dooley book which is fascinating. Methinks saturating one's brain with all sorts of fact and fiction is a good thing; although watching Crazy Rich Asians (I went to school with Gemma Chan, you know) / Guardians of the Galaxy 3 / The Simpsons Movie / reading a book about Jesus then a book by Stacey Dooley does all seem to be causing very weird dreams.
This morning we headed to San Clemente. We parked ('What do you do if you see a spaceman? Park in it, man). We wandered around the shops then had bubble tea. I like bubble tea - I have had it three times now.
We then jumped onto a free trolley bus - it's more like a bus than a trolley. It trundles along the road, gathering passengers, much like other buses do. It took us all the way to the beach where thousands of locals like my family and tourists like me enjoyed the glorious sandy beach. I was transfixed by an incredible surfer who was effortlessly surfing wave after wave, doing incredible flips up in the air, again and again. After ten minutes of sheer intrigue, I realised that this surfer was remote controlled. I need to go to Specsavers.
Post paddling, we headed to an ice-cream parlour where my sister and I shared what was effectively a giant s'more wrapped around a frozen banana - quite possibly one of the best things I have ever tasted and I highly recommend that you try and make one, although it might be challenging around a campfire.
I love the road signs here; they are just so literal. 'Yield'; 'Traffic must turn right'; and my particular favourite, which I can't help thinking is a little too much after the event to be helpful - 'Wrong way'. Story of my life.
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