Friday, December 07, 2012
One of the things about being retired is that you often don't know the date. I don't mean that you're vague about the year. (Well, not usually.) Just - is it the 6th or the 7th or even maybe the 8th? This is odd for me after years of marking registers several times a day. However, I've just checked and today is definitely the 7th, so I don't know why Daughter 2 opened the above this morning. Presumably I put the wrong number on it. Anyway, I know she did open it because she texted: "Thanks for my cat highlighters! Very jolly. I'm taking them into work for that professional look."
She gave us this make-you-own-robot kit. It says ominously on it that if you need further instructions, you can look up their website. We haven't tried yet.
The castaway on Desert Island Discs this morning was Dustin Hoffman, who talked several times about needing therapy to find out who he was. He also had a theory that at the pearly gates, we would meet up with God, who would tell us that all our assumptions about ourselves were wrong. I remember that in the 60s and 70s people used to talk about "finding themselves" and I never did understand this. I feel I've always known who I was - the sole exception being that the moment I was handed Daughter 1, I immediately became besotted with babies in a way I had never been before - which was a slight surprise. But apart from that - I feel that I was born this way and am quite familiar with myself. I suppose that I've never had to discover whether I'd step back from the last place in the lifeboat or throw myself between a stranger and a raging lion. But I'm clear about my general likes and dislikes and abilities (and lack of same) and personality. At least I think so.