I am sure John Wesley was a very laudable person. History paints him an iconic man of the people.
He rose at four every morning and admitted to travelling four or five thousand miles a year. But he said of himself: “Though I am always in haste, I am never in a hurry.”
Wesley put his inner peace down to the time he spent travelling: ” I…never undertake any more work than I can go through with perfect calmness of spirit,” he said.
“I generally travel alone in my carriage, and am as retired ten hours a day as if I were in a wilderness. On other days, I never spend less than three hours, and frequently ten or twelve, alone.’
His life was full indeed, and has rendered him an icon unto successive centuries. But it should be noted that Mr I Am Never In A Hurry Wesley never had any children.
Were there two kids in the back of his carriage asking Are we nearly there yet?
There were not.
I woke at 5:30am on Thursday. Somewhere inside my head there was a crack NASA team readying for launch.
A letter had come home the night before: Dear Parent, it said, please dress your son up in his posh suit tomorrow for a special mass in school. You can send his school uniform in a bag and he can change after mass. Thanks awfully, yours, The Head Teacher.
A couple of weeks ago, Felix made his first holy communion. He wore a small but perfectly formed grey suit. All the other boys wore suits too. All the girls wore long white dresses and looked like brides.
There were follow-up events and communion breakfasts and so forth, and finally the children were allowed to wear their special clothes into school for a celebration with their peers.
Which means all the mothers were scurrying around at unearthly hours trying to track down the location of the smallest tie – or tiara- in the house.
Felix dressed in his school clothes while I put together the required ensemble.
I have many flaws: they are varied and keep us all entertained; one such flaw is that I have never learnt to tie a tie. Phil, I entreated my husband, don’t go until you have put a tie on our son.
He acquiesced.
The morning progressed; we had breakfast, and welcomed my niece the princess who would be wearing her pretty white dress.
Right, Felix, I said, get your kit on; and promptly realised that Phil had gone without doing Felix’s tie.
His collar sat over his lapels, devoid of tie. It spoke volumes. He looked for all the world as if he was a very small mod: all he needed was a fag in his hand and a decent Lambretta scooter to complete the look.
I took a sharp intake of breath; and phoned his father on his mobile.
The importance of concise, calm airplane cockpit communication has long been held as an ideal when discussing the transfer of vital knowledge under pressure.
I was as far away from achieving that as a silent-order Benedictine nun from a Vegas slot machine.
“Phil!” I bawled down the speaker,”You’ve got to teach me how to tie a tie over the phone!”
My husband was clearly in one of those quiet carriages on the railways, the ones where you don’t carry out brash work conversations and annoy everyone else. Brash tying-tie conversations would be doubly disturbing; so he got up and shuffled out into an adjacent unstable drafty compartment. I haven’t asked him if someone nicked his place.
I put him on speaker and laid the phone on the duvet. He went through clear, concise instructions once with disastrous results. The second time my heart sank: because I knew I had grasped the technique, but would never be able to get it straight. The knot bulged uncomfortably and the two ends stuck jauntily out at a 45 degree angle.
“There must be someone,” I ventured desperately, “who can tie ties at school.”
My son the mod pottered happily out of the room to get into the car. As we walked the path into school, he hitched his rucksack over the jacket, rumpling it in a way I am certain Marks and Spencer’s never intended.
The car alarm went off. I knew it was mine, and I knew why it was sounding: the dog was in the car and had been doing his own brand of barking and aerobics. “You guys go in”, I said with increasing agitation, “and I’ll shut it off and follow later.”
So much haste, and so little speed. I pictured someone like John Wesley having to run back for a coach alarm set off by some 18th century family mutt while his kids shot off in Sunday best in the opposite direction. I longed for ten hours in a quiet coach rattling off to somewhere new.
The mass was nice with lots of singing and the kids felt special. Afterwards they filed out to the playground for a group shot. the girls looked like princesses. And the boys? They were having a blast, and looked for all the world like a band of mods with a bank of lambrettas lined up nearby.
My son, naturally, was not wearing a tie.
Kate Shrewsday 
Oh, dear Kate.. certainly not something to be learned over the phone. Made me smile though.
I can do an ordinary tie, as long as I pretend it is my own tie: we had to wear ties on high days at school. So tto accomplish the task I have to stand behind the subject and tie it from behind, in the mirror.
Ackershally you should google Youtube, ‘how to tie a tie’ and you’ll be surprised how many knots there are.
The one I have never mastered is bow tie. And nor- in truth – has Cyclo. Causes big stresses, just when we don’t need them.
Pseu, your knowledge of what’s out there in the cyberworld never ceases to amaze me. YouTube! Why didn’t I think of that?
Re:bow ties- I’ve always wanted to dress up in one of those bow ties which whizzes round and round.
My kids are 17 and nearly 15… that’s the difference!
Once when Scout was finding a concept difficult to read about and assimilate we looked it up on YouTube. It was marvellous: I can’t remember which philosopher was being discussed, but he watched an 8 minute mini-lecture on him and came away with an ‘I get it now’ smile. I suppose it depends on learning style… but he’s an auditory learner I guess.
From now on I shall have YouTube in the front line of operations, Pseu 🙂
Rev Wesley brought hundreds of thousands of souls to Christ.
Indeed, a very great man indeed, Carl. 🙂
some men do not look at all right wearing a tie. maybe he’s one of them and has recognised this fact already
Good point, Sidey. I think he looks good in a tie, but then, I’m his mother….
Lol! We had a couple brides running through our neighbourhood last weekend….playing in the sprinkler of course! …somehow hula hoops got involved too….. 🙂
Hi Jen! What a lovely comment 😀 Would have loved to see those little brides in all their finery hula-hoooping away…
I can tie a tie and only mitigate my smugness by telling you that this was your funniest and lovliest post yet.
I am envious, Tilly. I am still practising and have not managed to tie a creditable tie yet. Thanks for those words…you may now be as smug as you wish 😀
Oh, Kate, if it makes you feel any better (which it probably won’t) I once stapled all of our younger daughter’s girl scout badges onto her sash because I’m not much of a seamstress and couldn’t find the needle and thread anyways. I think she has finally forgiven me now that she has a child of her own.
😀 Ah the things we do for our darlings, Penny…
I used to tie my own ties, on occasion, as an attorney.
One of my favorite outfits . . . black skirt, black top, white tie (left at a jaunty angle to let passersby know that I wasn’t serious about formality just because I had tied a loose noose around my neck). 😉
Lovely post. Pseu beat me to it . . . next time, youtube.
I would have loved, just once, to be a fly on the wall in that courtroom, Nancy 🙂
My parents had a chance to see my last trial ~ a medical malpractice case. They were in the courtroom when the jury returned a verdict for the nurses I represented. 😀
BFF also got to see me “in action” a few times.
If we ever sit down over tea and scones, or jam and bread, I’ll regale you with a few war stories. Black tie optional. 😀
I shall look forward to that immensely, Nancy 🙂
Fab post, Kate, I picture your lad as a young Jude Law. BTW, for future reference (and if YouTube hasn’t helped) I get Old Spouse to put O Bunn’s school tie on the night before. Then we carefully loosen it, keeping the knot intact, so she can slip it over her head. Voila!
I’ve just read this out to Phil, Cindy, and we are clapping heads to foreheads….of course…
I know how to tie, only if I’m wearing it. 🙂 I like the comparison between you and John Wesley, it’s like comparing all the moms to John because I can relate so much.
We listen to so many wise words from people who are not in our situation, don’t we, Mommygems? I’ve revered those words of Wesley’s for years, and I suddenly realised they don’t work for me because the context is completely different! Only took me 44 years to work out….
Wonderful! As I race about at high speed, seemingly going nowhere, I have to laugh about the cool and composed John Wesley. As for ties, I’ve never learned despite such sage advice as, “The bunny comes out of the hole, the bunny goes around the tree…”
Never heard that one, Elizabeth. I shall google it immediately. The parents at the school gate will have a whale of a time listening to me repeating it to myself as I grapple with Felix’s tie….
I had a tie as part of school uniform many moons ago. Soon Girl1 will need one and I won’t have a clue. Is it not cool to wear the wee ones on elastic any more?
Clip ons exist at junior school level, this I know; but by the time they reach 11 they’re on their own, Speccy…I had better spend the Summer practising, my daughter is in the same boat!