James Proclaims!

I’m never a huge fan of the clocks going forward. I am now anticipating days, if not weeks, of it being an hour later than I think it is, which will inevitably mean I spend much of the foreseeable future feeling like I’m running late for everything. Which I almost certainly will be.

However, the changing of the clocks does now mean that it is officially ‘British Summer Time’. Which is not the oxymoron that it sounds like. British summers are often underwhelming affairs, but the weather is generally better than in the winter. This year, after a winter, which at times has seemed interminable, the weather has certainly been more spring-like of late. Not exactly warm, long sleeves still seem to be the norm, but the heaviest of my coats has been retired for the time-being, and the sun appears to have his metaphorical hat on today.

My garden, a mainstay for my daughters and I during the summer months, is in a little need of TLC. It has seen better days. I need to do some work (and quite a lot of work at that) in order to turn it into the haven I know it can be. The situation is the same every spring and I am currently in the procrastination stage of that annual project, so it is currently not an option for the outdoor entertainment of my two offspring.

As a consequence, today I find myself in a local park, writing this on my phone. There are two parks within walking distance of my house. We like to call them the big park and the small park. Mainly because one is quite big and the other is quite small.

The small park has recently been refurbished and is a state-of-the-art leisure space for young children. But it is quite small. The big park is a little more ‘pre-loved’. But it is quite big.

We alternate between the two. Largely directed by the whim of Little Proclaims. Mini Proclaims is generally happy to follow the guidance of her older sister with regards the choice of open-air amusement venues. It’s all swings and roundabouts to her.

Today we’re in the big park. It’s very busy. A lot of parents have decided to take advantage of the upturn in the weather and are presumably hoping. like me, to tire out excessively energetic sprogs. Little Proclaims is obliging with the plan, and is running around like a delighted puppy. She seems to have covered every blade of grass multiple times and is now digging a hole in the sandpit, for no discernible reason. Mini Proclaims is a touch more circumspect and has set up camp on a largish platform for which the exit is a slide. She is not keen on sharing the space and has loudly and somewhat rudely declared to the other children attempting to access the podium, that they need to leave and leave now.

Fortunately my youngest child only communicates in French and thus far has not offended any of her aspiring playmates. I hope that by the time she masters the English language that she will also have mastered some manners. Neither achievement seems especially imminent though.

We did actually encounter some French speaking children when we arrived, which blew the mind of Little Proclaims, who is entirely bilingual but has never really needed to speak French to anyone other than her younger sibling. I presume the other children were on holiday rather than the offspring of parents with the same linguistic pretension as my wife and I. Although Reading is a strange place for a holiday at any time of the year and, unlike Paris, is not well-known for being particularly pleasant in the spring.

Not that it is unpleasant in the spring. I do quite like living in Reading. There are no obvious reasons to love the place but there are also no obvious reasons to hate it. If nothing else, it has an array of parks in which one can entertain small children, which is fairly useful at this point in my life.

Next to the big park, flows the river Thames. I wouldn’t imagine it’s the loveliest body of water for swimming in but it’s pleasant to be near it on a spring day. In that sense I prefer the big park to the small park. Which is just near a road. The small park is also near a pub that I used to frequent before I had kids, so it’s a bit of an ‘insult and injury’ situation. Not that having kids is actually an injury. I wouldn’t want anyone to think that I don’t love spending time with my children in parks. But I did really like going to that pub. So on balance I’d rather be in the park that is close to the river and not close to the pub.

Of course I would rather be in the park with my children than in the pub. No-one should ever question that. However good the pub is. Although to be clear, it is a really good pub. With a fantastic beer garden that is perfect for days like this. But really and honestly, I would always much prefer being in the park with the girls than drinking a perfectly chilled craft IPA in the company of like-minded adults. That is just a fact, and beyond all debate. Indeed I so love taking them to the park, that even though it is Mother’s Day here in the UK, I insisted that it should be me, and not their mother, who spent this afternoon on playground duty.

Interestingly, their mother did not put up too much of a fight and has had to endure a Mother’s Day without her children for much of the day. I must make it up to her on Father’s Day. Maybe I’ll even have to endure the pub.