I don't know how it all worked out, but this seems to have been a week of firsts for me... first time standing in a queue for the midnight release of a book, first time being breathalysed, (first time I've ever actually written the word"breathalysed"!), first time in a simulator and the first time I've ever seen a dead kestrel. Wow, what a week!
Yes, I decided that at coming up to 30, I ought to have that devoted experience of going without sleep and sanity to wait in a queue full of fancy-dressed fans for the long-awaited final instalment of Mr Potter and his under-age adventures. The camera didn't really do justice to the length of the Asda queue, suffice it to say that it went all the way from the women's underwear, through the electrical department and halfway down the casserole dish aisle. After what seemed like not all that long really, a strangely dressed woman asked if I wanted the adult or child's edition, and fearing the former to include wizard-porn of some sort, I asked for the children's edition. (I later learned that the only difference is the more child-friendly cover painting, but you never can be too careful.....)
On my way there at 11:55pm (I wanted to stand in line, but not for long...) I was pulled over by the Police, who I assumed had clocked me doing 35 in the 30 zone. He informed that this being Friday night, they often find that people try to drive home after getting a skinful, so they were carrying out random breath-tests. Cool, I thought, but don't be long! The machine was clear and I even got to keep the straw as a souvenir, and I arrived at Asda at 11:59, ready to show my devotion to Mrs Rowling. Why Asda, when I'm a time-honoured Tesco shopper? Well, Asda were selling it for £5 and Tesco for £10. I might not be the best accountant in the world, but even I can spot the bargain in that one!
As you'll no doubt have read on the girl's blogs, we had a day out at Butlins in Skegness on Thursday. It was brilliant and well worth the £26 for a bulging family ticket. The girl's were in their element, and it looks like they're all going to become adrenaline junkies like their mother! Emily (the cheekster) calmly told me that simulator would be a gentle recreation for me, and that we could fly together through some nice countryside. Having refused to go on a variety of rides with names like "The Puke-o-meter", "Wall of Death" and "The Gut-slayer", I agreed that this one sounded more like it. Oh, how wrong I was! The simulator only moves about two feet in any one direction, but what a difference o0nce you're inside it! There was an emergency stop button right above my head in case you need to rush out and puke, and it took all of my strength not to push it after only a few seconds! By the time the ride finished, my gastric appreciation was on its way, and only the fact that the door opened quickly stopped me from chundering all over the screen (she also made me sit right at the front, the swine!)
On Wednesday teatime, I went out to the car and thought "Wo!".... there in front of me on the front lawn was a deceased kestrel... in Grimsby of all places! I couldn't help but think of that classic sketch complaining about the lack of vitality in a Norwegian Blue... my hypersensitive neighbour felt I should deal with it there and then, but with five minutes left before the tea burned and chips to buy from the village, there was no time to be squeamish: the bird would have to wait!
When tea was done and dusted, I phoned the Police, going on the theory that you have to report a dead dog, so why not a protected bird of prey? They told me to phone the RSPCA, who passed me around a few departments, before telling me to phone the Council, and they would come and collect it as a bio-hazard! The lady at the Council was slightly less dramatic, and calmly told me to chuck it in the wheelie-bin in the morning. From this, I think we can all learn two important lessons: 1) always eat your dinner before handling dead birds, and 2) never trust a grinning 7 year old who tells you a ride is stomach-friendly!
