Sunday 15 March 2009




I feel like Dr Who. Not because I fight against peculiar and dangerous alien creatures in South Wales. (although I have done, but the less said about that pub the better) And not because I'm 900 years old. Far from it. And certainly not because young boys think I'm the coolest person ever. Even farther from it. But because every few years, (technically whenever the actor's contract runs out) the character regenerates. He becomes the next generation. I think that's what happened to me today. I moved on to my next generation.

My Sunday started off by driving in to town to do a bit of shopping, then pick up J from a sleep-over. Then we all had a nice bar lunch, followed by a pleasant walk in the country.
Back home again, I took the opportunity to get the hose reel out and wash the car in the driveway. 
Then it was time to dig the garden for a bit, before washing up, having tea and relaxing in front of the TV.
Which would have all been quite regular, ordinary and normal, for someone else, eg my own Dad. But not me, surely?
My Sundays should be spent stumbling home from a party then crashing out on the sofa with an overwhelming desire for starchy food and carbonated drinks. I should be craving solpadeine, not turtle wax. What happened?
But then I thought about it.
Yes, I did a bit of shopping. For games for my Playstation.
Yes I went for a bar lunch. Because I couldn't be bothered cooking, and had no food in anyway.
Yes, I washed the car. Because I just got a new hose which has an attachment you can fire like a gun, and my car was target practice.
Yes I dug the garden for a bit. I was looking for buried treasure and the world's biggest worm.

So, yes I still think I have regenerated. I may look different, may do things slightly differently. I am older. But, like the Doctor, I haven't actually grown up at all.