I’ve updated my rogues’ gallery and five smiling faces beam down on me as I sit at my cluttered desk. Despite having a reasonably tidy and fairly minimalist house, when it comes to my study, there’s a lot of stuff about the place. You know what it’s like: you tidy, then can’t find anything.
My famous five grandchildren are very good at tidying. Toys and games are put away at the end of their visit, bedrooms left looking as if nobody has been in them and, apart from the odd bit of Lego or a marble or dice that may be found under a sofa (days or even weeks later), plus a near empty fridge, there’s little evidence of the children having been here.
Anyway, they grin at me from the photo frames and their pictures remind me of how precious they are – to each other, to their parents, to their aunties and uncles, to their grandparents, and to God. I marvel at the innocent joy of childhood and the simple pleasures of life: finding huge sticks to walk with (our front garden has quite a collection); opening a spiky shell and marvelling at the shiny brown conker inside; hanging over a bridge playing Pooh sticks… I look at the photos and pray for the children as I ponder their lives at school, in their homes, in their interests, and the fact that they’re all growing up very fast.
And when I’ve finished pondering and praying, I’ll follow their example and do some tidying… Yes. Right now. Without moaning tomorrow that I can’t find stuff.