Diamond, one of our two 18 month old gerbils, had been quite ill the past week or so.  The first thing we noticed was that she was licking the side of the cage.  At first we thought it was just funny, another oddity of her personality.  But as the days went past and she carried on acting strangely, we also noticed that she was losing weight.  Her breathing was becoming more laboured, she wasn’t eating or drinking as much, and she seemed quite lethargic.  Not the skittish little gerbil we knew and loved.

And that was the start of it.  We took Diamond into the vet to find out what the prognosis was.  Ellie was already very worried by that point, and shed a few tears at the thought of not bringing her home again.  It was a nervous drive into town, for both of us, and an even more nervous time sat in the waiting room, watching Pearl frantically running around the little travel cage exploring everything, while Diamond sat curled up in the bed most of the time not appearing to care about the change in scenery.

The vet was very friendly, and very honest.  She explained that it was always difficult providing healthcare for animals so small, partly because of the lack of medical research in comparison to animals such as cats or dogs, and partly because they are so small that anything invasive is almost impossible anyway.  She admitted that she couldn’t be sure if it was a growth in Diamond’s stomach or whether she was just nervous and tensing her muscles.  If it was a tumour, there wasn’t much that could be done.  If she just had a stomach infection, on the other hand, antibiotics might help clear that up.  So we went away with a little more hope, with both girls still with us, and with a tiny bottle of medicine that might save our gerbil.

The following days Ellie tended to Diamond diligently and consistently, squeezing the antibiotics into her mouth with the syringe twice a day and feeding her with baby food as often as she’d accept it.  Pearl loved the baby food, incidentally – couldn’t keep her away from it!  Diamond still took some persuasion though, and it was always with hesitation and perhaps reluctance that she ate anything.  She was still active, but it was infrequent and sporadic.  Many times she would come out of the nest to do something and fall asleep half way through in the middle of the cage, as if she’d simply run out of energy on the spot.  Pearl tried her best to help, in the only way she knew how, by trying to wash Diamond’s fur for her.  This was sometimes more of a hindrance than a help, though, as she didn’t always choose a convenient moment to lend her efforts – if a friend has ever tried to give you a shower when you were asleep in bed then you’ll know what that feels like.

There were good days and bad days really, with no obvious pattern or progression.  Some days she was lethargic as could be and had to be persuaded out of the nest.  Other times she was running around the cage as if nothing was wrong (if only for short periods of time).  The one observable trend we saw though was her weight.  As the days dragged on, her skin began to become less and less padded, as her fat reserves simply disappeared.  One day we could feel her spine all the way along.  A few days later we could feel her ribs.  It was frightening.  And still we had no idea what the outcome would be.  She didn’t seem ready to give up just yet, but her body was wasting away, in spite of the baby food, sunflower seeds, cheese and boiled egg we gave her.

So when I woke up that morning to find my wife in tears, I had a pretty good idea what the cause might be.  She explained how she’d gone downstairs to check on them, and Diamond seemed almost lifeless, making no attempt to respond to the gentle prods and strokes that would ordinarily have had her out and about in seconds.  It was as if she was giving up, having run out of energy to fight it.

We spent a while just laid in bed.  Ellie cried into her pillow, while I stared up at the ceiling.  It had come at last.  We had both hoped and prayed that it wouldn’t come to this, that it would just be an infection and she’d recover to her normal cheeky self in time.  But apparently that was no longer a likelihood.

In the end I had to get up.  I knew I wouldn’t get back to sleep, and I was beginning to feel hungry, but above all else I wanted to see her.  Just in case she wasn’t going to last much longer.  I had to see her.  I had to be able to say good bye.  So we got up.  Down in the lounge, in the hollowed-out coconut that was their nest, two little bundles of fur slept together.  When I reached in and woke them, both heads instantly popped out to see what was going on, which I thought was a good sign.  Pearl got out to enquire further as to the interruption, but Diamond slinked back into her bed.  I put my finger in to stroke her (something that shouldn’t be possible with a gerbil, they’re too inquisitive to stay still long enough).  She was nothing but skin and bones.  It felt so wrong, being able to feel her ribs like that without even trying.

Ellie and I sat there for several minutes, watching her curled up in the nest, not doing anything.  Tears were shed.  It wasn’t a feeling I’ve had before, and wasn’t one I was particularly comfortable with.  It was a feeling of dread, a feeling of loss, a feeling of sadness, and an overwhelming feeling of helplessness.  I didn’t know what to do.  Diamond was slipping away.  And I didn’t know what to do.

In silence we watched as nothing happened.

After breakfast I called the vets.  I told them of how we’d been giving her the antibiotics, and that she’d had her ups and downs all week, and that she’d taken a turn for the worse overnight.  The receptionist booked us in for that morning.  I said thank you and put the phone down.  Again we both sat in silence for a while.  I took comfort in a cup of tea.  Ellie continued her attack on the tissue box.

I’ve never really experienced death before.  I have had the enormous privilege of being able to live in a bubble almost all my life, with none of my family members passing away, none of my close friends being taken away from me.  Even our household pet, our black cat Lucy, was put to sleep when I was far away.  She wasn’t ill, she was just old, and my parents were moving house and didn’t think she’d survive the move, so chose to have her put to sleep instead.  It all happened when I was at uni, so there was nothing I could do.  In fact, I wasn’t even told it was happening until it had already happened.  Admittedly I wasn’t particularly close to Lucy, but I never really mourned for her.  I missed her, or rather, I missed having a cat, on brief occasions.  If anything I mourned more when my Dad dug up the apple tree at the end of the garden.  I loved that tree.  But on the whole I have never had to deal with loss.

Ellie was absolutely right.  It was this in-between time that was the worst.  Knowing that the end was nigh, that there was nothing more we could do.  It was crushing.

In the end I had to take my cup of tea upstairs and distract myself with work, ploughing into something mundane and mind-numbingly tedious, as an escape from the emotion that had welled up inside me and was drowning my usually positive nature.  I had about an hour before we had to go out.  I used my time immersing myself in a laborious copy-and-paste chore, shutting out everything else.  The impending doom was but an echo, a dull throb off in the semi-distance, which reared its head occasionally as an urge to drink more tea.

The journey in the car began with a musical accompaniment.  As I turned the key the radio came on, and Classic FM was playing Wagner’s Prelude to Tannhauser, a rousing and regal orchestral waterfall of beauty and power.  An appropriate send off, I thought to myself as we drove off.  I had to hold back the tears though, if only so that I could see the road.

Other than the radio, we sat in silence.  It wasn’t a long journey, not more than 15 minutes.  The sky was grey, but not particularly oppressive or intimidating.  Just calm and respectful.  We finally pulled into the vets (or “the Bad Place” as it is referred to in a certain story about pets) and went and sat in the waiting room.  There was a young boy sat opposite playing on a red Nintendo DS.  Every now and then he would glance up at us.  I tried to avoid eye contact.  I wondered what he must have thought of us, two grown adults with a little gerbil, both probably looking thoroughly miserable.  Should we put on a brave face for his sake?  Would he have guessed that the gerbil was going to be put down in the next room in a matter of moments?  What effect would it all have on him?  And, more to the point, why on earth was I worrying about the feelings and psychological state of a boy I’d never met before?

My name was called, and we went through to the treatment room.  It was a different vet, I think, but she seemed to know what was going on.  She felt Diamond’s tummy, and her face said it all.  ”Yes,” she said, “there’s definitely something wrong there.”  It was confirmation of what we both knew, and were both expecting, but it still came with a hefty clout of finality.  I could feel the emotion welling up in us both, despite our efforts to keep it together.  Why not cry, I wondered?  Surely the vet is more than accustomed to this sort of thing?  She was very sensitive, though, in the way she explained it all to us.  Putting the gerbil to sleep was the best thing now.

Then she asked us whether we wanted to bury the body ourselves or whether we wanted it cremated.  I hadn’t even thought about that.  It was probably obvious in my face.  She said she would give us a moment to think about it, with the excuse that she had to go and find a consent form out back.  On reflection, I’m sure those forms would have been somewhere easy to find and wouldn’t have taken more than a couple of seconds to dig out, but it was a kind gesture that allowed us a minute or two to think about it.  Ellie said it was up to me.  I’m still not sure whether that was because she wanted to allow me to have my way, or whether she just wasn’t up to making the decision herself.  I didn’t really have a preference either way, and said as much.  Ellie told me that the decision was mine, because I would be the one doing the digging.  That pretty much clinched it.  The thought of taking a lifeless gerbil home and burying it was almost more than I could bear at that moment, and cremation suddenly sounded a much more attractive option.

And so it was that we said our silent goodbyes to Diamond, giving her a gentle and loving stroke behind the ears, and looking for the last time into her fathomless black eyes, before lowering her into a plastic box.  It would be painless, we were told.  Basically an overdose of gas.  The bill would be forwarded on to us later, we were told.  Another kind gesture.  I’m not sure I would have been able to remember my pin code at that point.

Ellie and I sat in the car for almost an eternity.  A large part of me wanted to rush back in there and reclaim our gerbil.  I wanted to go back and say goodbye again.  I wanted to hold her one more time.  I wanted it never to have happened.  I wanted to run away and hide somewhere.  I wanted a hug from my wife and my two best friends.  And I knew that the only one I could have was my wife.

And then we went home.  And I had another cup of tea.

I do feel much better about it now.  As I sit, writing this all down, I feel a sense of catharsis, of release.  Telling Diamond’s final story has allowed me to temporarily distance myself from it all, as if it had all happened to someone else, as if it was all a work of fiction.  If only that were true.  I’m sure we will both still feel those pangs of loss as we continue to look after Pearl, who will now be very lonely in the cage on her own.

So long, Diamond.  Maybe we’ll see you again one day, where the grass is greener and the sky is wider and the angels sing more loudly…

The white one is Pearl, and the brown one with the white diamond on her head is… well, you work it out.  Both female, by the way.  And very sweet.

This afternoon I took the opportunity to put work on hold briefly while I went outside and mowed the lawn.  It has needed doing for a while now, and I’ve been putting it off, but today I figured I ought to take advantage of the sunshine and get out there while I can.  Looking at the forecast, the weekend isn’t going to be too promising.  The lawn actually needs treating at some point, as one half of it looks to be more moss than grass.  We’ve got some moss-killer, it’s just a case of spraying it on and letting it do its job.  I didn’t get round to that today, but I did cut the grass and do the edges, so the garden is looking nice now.  I also noticed that the peas in our vegetable patch are beginning to grow too!  We’ve got carrots and parsnips in there too, but I only planted them last week so it’s no surprise they’re not topside yet.

This weekend is going to be pretty busy too.  Saturday I’m off to a friend’s stag do, which promises to be lots of fun, if somewhat energetic… I’m not giving any details, just in case the person in question doesn’t know about it all yet.  In fact, part 2 of the stag do is on the Sunday, so it’ll be a hefty weekend of fun and frolics, and a fair amount of driving too.

Also on Sunday I’m skipping church.  Doesn’t happen often, but occasionally I take a day off to go to a Mini event, pretty much all of which tend to be on Sundays.  This weekend it’s the Manningtree High School Vehicle Show, and Colchester Mini Club will have a stand there with several of our Minis on display, mine included.  Which means at some point I really ought to clean the car.  I’ve also got a couple of electrical items to install eventually, now that I’ve got all the required bits and pieces for it: I’ve got a rear brake light to go in the back window, some LED side repeaters, a cigarette lighter socket, and all the necessary wires and connectors for installing it.  All good fun.  But since I’m going to be out all Saturday I’m not sure I’ll have time to install them before the show.  Never mind.  It’s not a particularly big show, and apparently it’s going to rain anyway.  Ah well, there’s always next time.

On the computer front, I’m now testing out Firefox 3 beta 5.  It’s not quite finished yet, and isn’t even a Release Candidate, but it’s interesting seeing where they’re going with it and what improvements they’ve made.  For a start, it’s much quicker than FF2 was on the Mac, and significantly faster than previous betas too, which is good.  Speed and responsiveness was one of the main reasons I stopped using Firefox on the Mac in the first place and switched to Camino.  There are still some bugs to iron out before it goes live (I’ve seen some problems handling frames), but the big thing I don’t like at the moment is that it won’t work with UNO.  For those of you who don’t know, UNO is a cool little extra that straps itself (harmlessly) into Mac OS X Tiger and allows you to unify the messy interface, getting rid of the brushed metal windows and allowing me to make everything look consistent.  Unfortunately, FF3 seems to break UNO – it’s not dangerous or particularly problematic, just an annoying visual thing.  Basically, UNO is supposed to unify – join together – the top part of the window and the menu bar underneath.  As standard FF3 does this anyway, which is nice, but as soon as UNO is working, regardless of whether it’s actually supposed to be doing anything with Firefox, that unity is lost.  Curious.  Without UNO, FF3 displays unified, but nothing else does.  With UNO, everything displays unified except FF3.  Grrr.  As I say, not a huge problem, just a niggling frustration, but one I’m hoping will be sorted by the time FF3 is released properly.

Finally, on to this blog.  Astute blog readers will notice that I’ve changed the theme back to the way it was last week.  Sorry.  It just got to the stage where I was annoyed by enough of the new design to warrant just reverting back to the previous design.  I’m working on ideas for a refreshed theme, which I’ll be designing myself (rather than picking an off-the-shelf theme), and you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve found a way of testing themes without the general public seeing them, which should allow me to develop it and test it before actually letting it loose on you lot and letting you pick holes in it.  So, again, apologies for messing you around with visual styles, but hopefully the end result will be better.

Right, after all that, I need another cup of tea.  And maybe I’ll see if I can persuade the gerbils out – Ellie’s much better at it than I am, but she’s at work and the girls need the exercise.  Time to show the little furballs who’s boss…

On the work front, things have been exceptionally busy just of late.  A web designer friend of mine recently handed me all his clients, ahead of his year-out move to America (I think… something like that), and I’ve spent the last couple of days sorting myself out and getting to grips with the new web sites.  In particular I’ve had to think more carefully about my client management – storing passwords, contact information, billing and invoicing details, and anything critical to the project.  Before now I’ve done it fairly ad-hoc, writing down passwords in a text document where needed, and remembering most of the details myself.  With my client-base almost doubled, I realised I needed something more substantial.  I looked into creating a database using OpenOffice, but found their database app remarkably difficult to use and somewhat unstable – it got confused when I tried to enter some information, and I hadn’t even got as far as linking tables and doing complex queries!  So in the end I’ve reverted to something simpler, but more effective than what I had before, keeping a document of information for each client, with enough information that someone else could theoretically take over if something untoward happened to me overnight.  Which I hope won’t happen, but it’s good to plan for the unexpected anyway, just in case.

So that’s all kept me rather busy, and I’ve not really done much ‘real’ work – i.e. stuff I get paid for.  I guess that’s just part and parcel of running your own business, you have to do the boring administrative stuff as well as the fun designing bits!

Of course, then there’s all the time in between, which is where it gets more interesting.  As timewasters go, we have plenty in this house.  Not only do I have my computer, which is connected to the internet is thus an almost endless source of entertainment, we also have a lounge.  Lounges are good fun.  Especially considering all the toys we keep in it.

For my birthday my Auntie Julia gave me a special offer thing for LoveFilm.com, giving me free access to film rental for 90 days.  I’ve registered a whole load of films I haven’t yet seen, and they’ll send me an unlimited amount every month, with a limit of only having one film at home at a time (postage is free too).  Ellie already has a subscription to Amazon to do much the same thing, but this LoveFilm one means I can book the sort of films Ellie won’t be interested in – so lots of car chases and stuff blowing up!  I’ve already had 3 films come through, and they’ve all been fairly good so far.

And while we’re sat in front of the TV, why not switch on that black box underneath?  What black box?  You know, that big black box, with a PS2 logo on the front.  Yes, I finally succumbed and bought myself a games console.  I’ve been after one for a while, but waiting for the prices to come down.  With the recent release of the PS3 prices for the old PS2 have dropped substantially, both in the shops and online, and it’s finally become affordable.  In fact, my birthday money effectively covered the cost of the PS2 and 2 games, which is pretty neat.  I’ve been playing GTA San Andreas for a few days now, and thoroughly enjoying every moment.  I’ve also got GTA Vice City Stories, which was a follow-up game using the same engine, but from what I’ve seen isn’t anywhere near as good (despite being newer).  Essentially it’s a PSP game ported to the PS2, and a lot of the functionality in the San Andreas version has been lost.  In GTA VCS you can’t eat, you can’t go to the gym, you can’t get fat, you can’t build up your stamina and strength, you can’t change your clothes or your hairstyle, you can’t shoot using the old-school targeting system, there are fewer guns and cars available, and the map is significantly smaller.  VCS is certainly a good game, but pales in comparison to the original.

In addition to all that (as if three major timewasters weren’t enough) we also have gerbils.  Eventually (and by that I mean within the next few years) we’ll undoubtedly be getting a dog (Golden Retriever, on Ellie’s insistence).  But in the meantime we’ve got gerbils.  Two of them.  And they’re so much fun.  I could sit and watch them for hours.  Except they sleep a lot, so there are times when there wouldn’t be much to see.  Nonetheless, we’ve bought them several toys, and get them out to play regularly.  They’ve even been up and played on my desk when I was supposed to be working – they look so cute hopping around on my keyboard and running around in my in-tray!

Oh, and then there are the usual suspects: multiple musical instruments, a Mini to tinker with, a garden to plant stuff in, friends to hang out with.  It’s a wonder really that I get anything done at all…

So, first of all, a general introduction.  Many things have happened since my last blog post, including (but not exclusively): two trips to theatres, some significant developments on the business front, a somewhat extended birthday, Neddy going to the garage a couple of times, a couple of additions to the Dawkins household, an above-average number of requests to lead worship, and a general realisation that Ellie and I are taking over our church.  That’s quite a lot to write about.  I’ll try to keep some of it brief.  Just to demonstrate that, you’ll notice the lack of information in the spaces between words.  Every little helps.

Glass Menagerie

This is a show Ellie has been working on in Ipswich, which finished last week.  She managed to get a couple of tickets for the penultimate show, and I quite enjoyed it.  A little random in places, but that’s all good and familiar.  Some fairly convincing American accents, plenty of imagery, clever lighting, and rather eerie music.  Not much to report really, but it was a good evening out.  Ellie and I joined the cast and crew afterwards for drinks, so that was a good opportunity to meet people and put faces to names.  And if I was lucky I got the right name with the right face.

Keeping busy with business

A couple of Saturdays ago I met up with a group of Christians in Colchester working in internet business, whether that be hosting, web design, SEO or general management.  It was a good meeting, lots was discussed, and it looks like I’ll be getting a little more work out of it.  One of the other guys is trying to get rid of all his clients (in the nicest possible way), and it looks likely that he’ll pass them on to me to look after.  Not a lot of work involved really, just annual billing for hosting and the occasional request for updates.

The major development, though, is a business link I’ve made with another web design company based in Hornchurch.  It’s run by a Christian chap, and his company deals mainly with high-flying businesses, so quite a different clientele to me.  He’s been rushed off his feet recently, and is really looking to find someone he can employ full-time.  Clearly I can’t give up my current commitments to my existing clients, so that wasn’t really something I could consider, but he’s now outsourcing to me and passing a fair amount of work my way.  It’s nice to have some variation in my work, and doing business web sites involves a very different approach – whereas churches spend forever thinking about things and passing everything through PCCs and committees and suchlike, businesses want it all done yesterday and are prepared to pay for the privilege.  It’s been quite exciting, and I’ve been doing a fair amount of PHP as a result.  All good stuff.  And it pays well too.

I’ve got a brand new combine harvester

Sadly I never did manage to find that song on the internet for free.  Ah well, never mind.  I had plenty of other folk music to satisfy my taste and provide a background ambience to my birthday party.  Yes, for those of you who didn’t hear (and therefore weren’t invited – sorry), my 25th birthday was celebrated this year with a fancy dress party (no surprise there) on the theme of ‘farmers and country folk’.  It was a good laugh, with people dressed up in chequered shirts and flat caps, eating home-made cakes (courtesy of my lovely wife) and kettle chips, drinking tea and cloudy lemonade (not at the same time), with Devonshire folk music in the background and a dog curled up in front of a roaring fire.  Yes, you read that right.  It was cheating a little, perhaps, in that the dog was a toy and the roaring fire was a screensaver on my computer, but the effect worked well.  Photos are up on Facebook.

Present-wise, the highlight was most definitely the radio-controlled Mini I got from three of my friends who clubbed together.  So much fun!!  I’ve driven it round the lounge more than a few times already, and had fun doing handbrake turns and powerslides and all sorts of things you’re not really supposed to be doing with radio controlled cars.  I also got some chocolate and another guitar strap.  Ellie’s present to me didn’t arrive in the post though, so I had to wait for that.

Gee up, Neddy

Neddy, my Mini Sidewalk, has been feeling considerably under the weather just of late.  Acceleration has been rather sluggish and uneven, he’s been leaking oil, and the fan belt has been slipping very conspicuously.  I had every intention of getting the work done myself, as none of it is particularly difficult.  But, as the lateness of this blog entry testifies to, I just never got round to it.  In the end I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to have to pay someone else to do it for me, and ended up taking my Mini to Wivenhoe Garage.  Last week they replaced the top engine steady bushes, replaced the oil and filter, and fitted a new rocker cover and gasket (which should stop the oil leak).  Yesterday Neddy went in for stage two, which involved replacing the alternator (bearings were gone, and it turned out to be cheaper to buy a new one than get the bearings replaced) and flushing the coolant.  Neddy is also lined up to be given a closer inspection by a tuning garage next week, which will involve interrogating the ECU to find out just how happy it is, and may involve putting it on a rolling road to get it properly set up – the new alternator has certainly helped a lot, but I’m fairly sure more power can be eked from the 1275cc block yet.

Diamond and Pearl

No, we haven’t been splashing out on fancy jewellery.  Ellie and I went to a pet shop on Saturday to buy some bird food, and ended up going back on Monday to buy some gerbils.  A little spontaneous, perhaps, but definitely worth it.  Expensive too, given that we had to buy everything in one go, but they’re apparently very cheap to keep after that.  We’ve got a fantastic cage, with a plastic bottom which gives them plenty of room to dig around in the bottom without sending sawdust flying out into the lounge, and a barred cage on top giving them two further levels to explore.  They’re so much fun!  And very cute, too.  I really must take some photos of the girls soon.  They’ve settled in really well already, and we’re beginning to introduce our hands to them and encouraging them out so they can play.  All good fun.

I have not forgotten you

Leading worship is one of my many passions, as my friends and family will know.  I’ve been a keen musician for years, and it’s been a natural progression from there to leading worship.  I led worship at the CU, I led worship at the Anglican Chaplaincy, I led worship at Orchard Baptist Church.  Pretty much everywhere I went, that was my focus, my responsibility, my blessing to the Body of Christ.  Until I came to St Margaret’s, that is.  Apparently they have a policy of not letting anyone ‘new’ lead worship, at least until they’ve been observed and checked out for at least a year.  It’s been over six months now, and I was beginning to think that maybe God didn’t want me leading worship any more.  Then, within about a week, I had two requests to lead worship.  One was a Christian event organised by a friend from the CYFA camp Ellie I go to in the summer, which sadly I was unable to agree to since the event fell on the same weekend as my birthday.  The second I did agree to, though, and that was leading a short worship slot for the Lent Course on Tuesday evening.  It was only 10 minutes or so, so only three songs, but it was still the first time I had led worship at the church, and despite what Christians generally say I’m pretty sure they were all judging me.  The response was good though, which is reassuring – I’ve been learning to lean on God a lot recently, and it was so wonderful to be given the chance to serve again.  So it sounds like they might ask me to lead again.  God apparently does still want me leading worship after all.  So much for the year of waiting!

The Great Dawkins Takeover Bid

In addition to being told that I wouldn’t be asked to lead worship for at least a year, when Ellie and I first started coming to St Margaret’s the vicar was quite insistent that we wouldn’t be asked to do anything in the church at all in the first year of our marriage, telling us to focus on our marriage first.  As we expected, and as I think our vicar is beginning to understand now too, that was never going to happen.  Ellie and I are both the sort of people who like to be active in the church community, always happy to be doing things.  Very soon after joining the congregation Ellie found herself leading one of the youth groups, and I quickly got myself into the worship band playing guitar and bass.  Ellie also does sidesman every now and then, and we’ve also done teas and coffees after the service.  Ellie has been asked to work the projector in a few weeks’ time, I’m down to MC an evening service next month, and both of us are on the rota to preach in the near future.  We’re not complaining, it’s what we love doing, but it just seems funny how little of the church is left for us to get involved in!  Not bad for being at the church for almost seven months.

Birthday part 2

Remember I said that Ellie’s present to me was delayed by the post?  Apparently that was a rouse.  The postal service wasn’t involved at all.  Ellie wasn’t going to work yesterday at all, despite what she’d said.  About lunchtime yesterday I got a text message informing me of the treasure trail she had planned, and told me where to find the first clue.  In the middle of a book in our bookcase I found the first clue and some instructions, and before I knew it I was hopping on a train to London with no idea where I was going or what I was going to do when I got there.  Once I got to London I followed a set of cryptic clues, sent by text message, which led me from one location to another on a route from Westminster tube station, along a whole load of roads I’ve never been down, through China Town, and eventually found my wife at the end of the trail, who took me round a corner and revealed my birthday present – there, a little way down the road, was the theatre showing Les Miserables.  It’s a show I’ve wanted to see for a while, and I really enjoyed it.  The treasure trail was superb though – a little random, but lots of fun.  I did feel a little conspicuous running through London looking all around for random objects, then stopping and texting on my phone, and then waiting for the next clue to come back before setting off again.  It was like being a secret agent, following some obscure set of clues.  Les Mis was superb – very sad, but very good.  Especially given the main part was being played by the understudy that night.  I won’t give the story away for those of you who haven’t seen it, but I would encourage you to go and see it if you’ve not already – some fantastic music, a very dense plot, some heart-rending moments, some funny bits, and quite a powerful resolution.

So thank you, Ellie, for a wonderful birthday present.  Suitably random.