Monday morning at 5 a.m.

I think the song is actually called Wednesday morning at 5 a.m. But who cares? It is very, very early in the morning here in Bovinia. I have given up trying to go back to sleep. It is bucketing down with rain outside. In one hour my family will be awake and the whole machine of school, work, kindergarten and everything that this entails will crank into action. Imagine the pistons moving really slowly on a giant steam locomotive. You think it will never get started, but then momentum is gathered and off it puffs. So it will be here, too.

Titus is starting a skiing course today. I only hope it isn't rained off. On Saturday we bought him a ski helmet, which he proceeded to wear for the whole afternoon as we ambled round a beautiful town called Bad Tölz. This was a welcome decision as it meant nobody had to carry it, but we did attract a few curious glances, I have to admit. We must have looked like really, really neurotic parents as we stood at the playground watching our helmeted son cavorting around with - I want to say gay abandon, but I'm not sure one can use that expression any more??

I'll leave you with a last impression from my weekend. Saturday afternoon, on the way home, we stop at the ATM for Uncle T to get some cash. On the wall outside a lady is sitting, picking at the sole of her hiking boot with a stick in a futile attempt to remove some kind of turd (presumably dog). She and I exchanged glances. Hers rueful and resigned, mine sympathetic. A very old lady was waiting for her in the car. We drove off. She was still scraping away, shoulders bowed, as I looked out of the rear window.