Dreading Dread Zeppelin and other Saturday morning nonsense


I slept in today, trying to rest my neck as much as possible, and when at last my wife could no longer deal with the high volume yelling of the children, I hauled myself out of bed, took a painkiller and we went out to our closest café for extra breakfast. Or rather, breakfast for me and the wife, and babycinno for our daughters, in between their constant gambolling and squeaking.
In my fifth decade, there’s nobody to tell me breakfast can’t be chocolate cookies and scones, or at least none of the women in my life that were in the café were giving me good advice. We went home again, the kids gibbered for a while and got upset when I tried to make them watch a Dread Zeppelin video from 25 years ago. Isn’t that a mad thing? Our distance from Dread Zeppelin, the ridiculous rehash of Led Zeppelin with Elvis and reggae, is now further away from us than Led Zeppelin was when Dread Zeppelin was first a thing.

The girls napped and I futzed around with Lightroom, trying to find some photos of the kids to print out. My computer is beginning to lose the ability to cope with Lightroom, but as the software manufacturer, Adobe, wants everyone to move from buying software to paying a monthly subscription, I can’t buy a newer computer to run Lightroom on, because then I’d be paying $13 every month, as opposed to $100 every three years (you can’t buy perpetual licenses of Lightroom any more). So now I have to find an alternative (although luckily, such things do seem to exist, exploiting the market need Adobe has artificially created).

But yeah, that was fun.

After the girls woke up, I went climbing. I’d been worried about doing thia, given my neck, but I’d been cajoling a friend to join us and I figured I’d just take it easy, not do anything taxing. We spent 90 minutes doing lots of stuff (some easy, some hard) and I solved a few problems I’d not managed in the past, even if there was more grunting than necessary. Happily, that seems to have helped my neck rather than make it worse. I came home bearing coffee and cheese as penance for abandoning my wife with four kids (ours, plus my climbing partner’s).

Bedtime was fun. After bathing them, I told my wife to go and have a break while I dealt with both kids. That was an hour of screaming about how I never looked after them, or how I had to read more of Fantastic Mr Fox, or fetch their water, or that they couldn’t sleep, or I needed to apply embrocation, or, or, or… Just a lot of yelling. Once they were both down, I was a broken man, ready and useful only for sleep.

But the day is survived. Onwards, upwards.


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