It's Monday morning, I've at least 5 loads of non standard washing to do and my machine is broken. It has spent the last 8 hours on the final spin and I know deep down that it is broken. Smelly dripping wetsuits, towels and tennis gear are waiting to be renewed for the next adventure. Deep breath, open the secret hatch my mother once showed me, eyes closed and hand in. It turns out the filter is utterly and disgustingly clogged. Pleased that all the synchronised swimming training has not gone to waste as I hold my breath and shut my eyes whilst I clean the filter. Washing machine mended. Monday Morning Success.
A rare feeling. I'm rather more used to the Monday Morning Crash. I'm rather wondering whether I'm just an adrenaline junkie or that I find life a bit scarier than most.
This weekend was no exception. Although it was non sailing weekend for me. It was a big one for the boys. We were all off to Rutland Water. George and Simon were taking the 29er for their first big sail and William was off to Tera Boot Camp. There were plenty of things for me to worry about.
First off, we needed to leave by 6.50am. For those of you that know me well, I'm not a morning person and that itself was challenge enough. To top it off it began snowing. In April? At 6.30 in the morning? Rude.
We arrived safely and on time, the boys rigged, William skipped off to boot camp, Simon was straight out on the wire, massive grins all round. The boys had a brilliant morning, we stopped for lunch, thanked the coach and awaited the big moment of setting them free under only the general safety cover at Rutland. The winds picked up and the Tera kids stayed on shore. George and Simon set off under strict instructions to stay within the agreed area.
They had some fantastic runs with the kite up, going further and longer than they had gone before. we whooped and filmed until a monstrous squall came through. Bang over they went. Here was the moment of truth. We were helpless we had to sit and watch as they repeatedly capsized time and time again. Rain came with the squall which made visibility impossible. We had to trust them out there. We asked the shore team to radio for help our hearts raced. Kathryn and I stood helplessly, both terrified. I wiped the binoculars and saw the pair of them stood together on the dagger board. Sensible, boys well done. Safety reached them, George had to cut the main halyard with his knife as they were over powering the safety boat. They then brought them in.
Rich was messaging, how were they getting on? Watch out they might have an adrenaline crash. They might? I think we might... Kathryn and I hugged each other mightily relieved glad to see them safely back on shore.
Back at home, I drunk a gin and tonic faster than I ever had done. I fear Kathryn may have done the same.