Problem. I have no new photo's to post. Quick solution, pop through to Luca's bedroom and disturb his slumber for the instant gratification of a new picture. As above.
Alternately, I could instead post a picture previously taken, yet considered so uninteresting it's inclusion in a previous entry was considered unwarranted. So here it is. Luca and Yoda.
Yoda, the canine equivalent of a tremble machine. So nervous that the sound of a car backfiring 3 streets away causes her to involuntarily soil herself. She's never truly recovered from the infamous firework experience, where she bolted at the sound of the bangs, got herself lost and lived wild for 3 days.
Isis, gratefully, is a much bolder hound. Several times larger than her younger brethren, and many years older too, the prospect of a firework causing such mental scarring is unimaginable. That said, she's not without her quirks. Most notable is her ability to communicate via a fart.
I wish I was kidding. She wanders through to the living room, lets one go, then promptly turns around leaving the rooms incumbents to truly appreciate her gift. Every day she does this, every day. Why? I wish I knew. I think she hates us.
A quiet weekend has just ended. Saturday began with a health check and fitness guide for me at Bannatynes Health Club. An unique experience for sure, akin at times to being at a doctors surgery. My results were printed out for me at the end, and rather surprisingly determined my blood pressure to be below average, my lung capacity great and my resting heart rate low as well. These, amongst other results, concluded (according to the chap) that I'm actually rather fit.
Consciously withholding from the instructor that fact I spend 60-70 hours a week sat at a desk, and had irresponsibly munched on a doughnut and a half on route to the club, I decided it would perhaps be inappropriate to query with him as to whether I should continue with my membership, if indeed I am already fit.
I am aware these results allow me great scope for self delusion. I am both aware, and comfortable with that fact.
I wandered down to wallow in the jacuzzi after that, inwardly gloating at my supreme physical condition, while actively avoiding examining my distinct lack of a 6 pack and anorexic arms.
During my delusions, 20 miles away Carole and Luca attended (another) birthday party. I can't remember the child's name. That said, neither, likely, can Luca. But he had fun, it seems
On Sunday, while I slumbered, Carole drove Luca to Aberdeen to visit her friend Annie (or "Aunty Aunty" as Luca peculiarly refers to her). Annie's dad died this week, which, as you'd suspect and understand, leaves a huge gaping hole and a feeling of dispiriting emptiness.
Luca had discussed the plans with me the night before, as I put him to bed. "I'm going to see Aunty Aunty tomorrow" he smiled. "Her Daddy is dead" he continued. His smile turned into a frown. "Who will be her Daddy now?". Following brief contemplation I explained that no-one would, that you only get one Daddy. He seemed surprised and looked away, briefly looking up at me intermittently as he digested the information. Eventually he smiled. "I'll share you with her, you can be her Dad too"
Sometimes they're worth it
**Useless fact of the day - Thomas Edison's son, as well as taking a cast of his dying Father's face, also caught his Dad's last breath in a bottle**
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