Graduation Day

Today was graduation day. Well, actually it wasn't graduation day at all. The graduation ceremony for the MA I finished in September actually took place before Christmas, but I didn't bother going because, frankly, the one graduation ceremony I've already been to in my life was more than enough. All that poncing around in silly robes and listening to dull speeches just isn't for me.

So we finally got round to having a subdued celebration this lunchtime. Mrs J took me out to the Marble Arch on Rochdale Road for a pint of their lovely homebrew beer and some lunch (I had a tasty bowl of game stew). There hasn't been any snow for three days but it's still all over the ground, and today was another beautifully clear and cold day. The winter sunshine was so pretty it almost took my mind off the struggle of heaving G's pram through and over all the ice and slush. Not that all the jiggling about bothered her, she lay quietly and dozed on and off the whole time. I don't know about an MA, but, and I realise this is tempting fate outrageously, G certainly deserves a prize for being so well-behaved lately.

Whitworth Art Gallery

Continuing our patronage of the Manchester arts scene, I took G down to the Whitworth Art Gallery today. Shamefully, during the whole year I studied at the university (which is basically next door) I never actually got round to going to the gallery, so thought I'd better put that right. And besides, people kept telling me the café was brilliant, which is enough reason to visit anywhere.

It's been a cold day in Manchester so I wrapped both G and myself up in plenty of layers and set off for the walk down Oxford Road. I'd arranged to meet a friend for lunch and made sure I turned up in plenty of time so I could have a quick walk around the gallery with G. When it comes to museums I usually prefer looking at stuff rather than art, but I enjoyed an interesting exhibition on American prints of the 20th century. There was also an exhibition about art as it relates to trees, and I have to say that lost me a bit. True to form, G was fast asleep throughout.

We both perked up when it was time to go to the café to meet my friend for a coffee and some food (I had a tasty Indian parsnip soup, who knew the Indians liked their parsnips?). Well I say we both perked up, I certainly did, although as you can see, G remained oblivious to everything until I got her out of her pram so my friend could have a hold. Even then G stayed snoozy, and not even the occasional groups of bored-looking students disrupted her. I tried telling my friend that G isn't always so angelic, but I don't think she believed me.

On The Radio

I was on the radio today talking about G. My friend Sam is covering the lunchtime show on BBC Radio Manchester this week (Andy Crane who usually does the programme is away somewhere, presumably with Edd the Duck), and was doing a phone-in about paternity leave. Apparently lots of new dads are too worried about losing their jobs to even take the two weeks off that they're entitled to. So I talked a bit about deciding to stay at home and suchlike. You can hear it all again here for the next week (I'm on about 21 minutes in).

I took G down to university this afternoon to meet some friends from the MA course I finished last month. They've all begun PhDs so were happy to take the opportunity for a break so they could have a coffee and coo over the little one. I suppose if we hadn't had G, I'd probably be doing the same as them now, spending my days reading journal articles and hanging around the mustier parts of the library. G certainly gave them the impression that my life is easier than theirs, as she snoozed happily the whole time I was there.

I took the picture on the walk back to the flat, as I briefly sheltered from the rain on Sackville Street. It was one of those typically dark and drizzly Manchester days, but G was warm and sleepy under her rain cover. One of my uni friends was impressed by the cocoon-like pram, and reckoned it would be good to have one for adults, complete with a giant person (possibly Brian Blessed) to put you in there and wake you up again later. I think it's brilliant. In fact the only flaw I can see in the plan would be what would happen if the machines rose up and seized power. Being run by an army of 15-foot Brian Blesseds is an alarming thought, to say the least.